Showing posts with label 2015. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2015. Show all posts

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Top 30 Albums of 2015

30. Los Kowalski - Sputnik EP



29. Aphex Twin - Computer Controlled Acoustic Instruments Pt2 EP


28. Buick 6 - Plays Well with Others

26. Metric - Pagans in Vegas

25. Deerhunter - Fading Frontier

24. Dana Falconberry - The Lowering Night EP

23. Custard - Come Back, All is Forgiven

22. Chvrches - Every Open Eye

21. jennylee - Right On!



20. METZ - Metz II

19. Motherfucker - Confetti

18. My Morning Jacket - The Waterfall

17. Tame Impala - Currents

16. Wire - Wire

15. Low - Ones and Sixes

14. Death Grips - The Powers That B

13. Richard Thompson - Still

12. Alela Diane & Ryan Francesconi - Cold Moon

11. Erase Errata - Lost Weekend

10. No Joy - More Faithful

9. Battles - La Di Da Di


8. Lower Dens - Escape from Evil

7. Viet Cong - Viet Cong

6. Le Butcherettes - A Raw Youth

5. Julia Holter - Have You in My Wilderness

4. Spectres - Dying

3. Pond - Man It Feels Like Space Again

2. Torres - Sprinter

1. Lady Lamb - After


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Custard - Come Back, All is Forgiven


Custard didn't announce Come Back, All is Forgiven until it was recorded and a few months away from release, which was smart; enough time to adjust to the reality that 2015 will see a new Custard album, but not enough to build up unreasonable expectations.

The first thing that struck me about Come Back, All is Forgiven was how much like Custard it sounds like, which wasn't a given after 16 years away from the studio. It's an older Custard, obviously, and sounds like it. While the familiar wit lingers in the lyrics, a certain world weariness has crept in, while musically, a lot of the immediacy has been traded in for a more slow burning approach. It's a trade-off, but a worthwhile one. A younger Custard simply couldn't have conceived "We Are the Parents (Our Parents Warned Us About") and "Get In Your Car" among others. More than one song on Come Back, All is Forgiven addresses 90s nostalgia, but the album is far from an exercise in it.

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Thursday, December 17, 2015

Kurt Cobain - Montage of Heck: The Home Recordings

Kurt Cobain - Montage of Heck: The Home Recordings

If you have to ask yourself if you need this, you don't.  What was I supposed to do, not buy it? Not bloody likely.

For only two more dollars than the regular version would have cost me, I bought the deluxe edition - that's 31 tracks instead of 13. With 8 minutes of running time left, it's a wonder they didn't include a recording of Cobain scraping the bottom of a barrel with a guitar pick. It's natural to want a window into Cobain's mind - the global audience Nevermind gave him, whether he wanted it or not, had only two and a half years to get to know him, and many of his lyrics, even under the inevitable intense scrutiny following his death, remain oblique and elliptical. Home Recordings, however, is no magic cipher that will suddenly cast everything in a whole new light. It will not, as the fictitious Blaine DeBeers of iZombie claimed, fill gaps between Fecal Matter and Nirvana you didn't even know existed. While some of it is of academic interest, to claim to be able to draw a straight line between it and even Bleach would be like watching heretofore unseen footage of Jackson Pollock squeeze sauce onto a hotdog and claim the pattern to be a precursor to Blue Poles.

A good percentage of the tracks on Home Recordings are montages (duh) and monologues that don't bear repeated listens. "Aberdeen" is an anecdote about an abortive sexual encounter, one that Buzz Osbourne insists is spurious, along with most of the rest of the Montage of Heck documentary. Presented out of context, there's nothing to suggest it purports to be true. Little of the actual music is especially portentous either. The oft-released "Been a Son" gets yet another go-round in a version that makes the With the Lights Out recording sound polished and meticulous by comparison. Surprisingly, there's no version of "Polly", the most ubiquitous song in the Nirvana catalogue, to be had here, although there are plenty of four chord wonders that could have become a "Drain You" or "Smells Like Teen Spirit" had Cobain revisited them. There are a couple that did grow into something more substantial - the aforementioned "Been a Son" and a similarly inauspicious-sounding "Sappy". The With the Lights Out curio "Clean Up Before She Comes" appears here - a demo of a demo. Minus the pithy lyrics, harmonies and counter-melodies that form the song's hooks (I think there are four Cobains duking it out in there at one point in the better known version), it just doesn't connect. Some of the more abstract sketches might have had potential as well, such as "She Only Lies", which is just Cobain and a surprisingly clear-sounding bass. Perhaps the phone call that interrupted the dirgey "Burn the Rain" robbed us of a classic. One of the few songs I've revisited so far is the instrumental "The Happy Guitar". Known erroneously on bootlegs as "Black and White Blues" for years, it may be a tribute to Leadbelly, but it's closer to Lonnie Johnson, whose name you normally wouldn't associate with Cobain - therein lies the appeal.

I won't be the only one to quote that prescient line from "Aero Zeppelin" (from the genuinely valuable odds and ends collection Incesticide). "all the kids will eat it up if it's packaged properly". Just don't expect them to keep it down.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Motherfucker - Confetti

Motherfucker - Confetti

It would have been enough for Motherfucker to merely wake you from the pathetic stupor that most music seems determined to keep you in. Hell, if it was just good for a giggle because its name is a naughty word, that would have been better than nothing. Motherfucker's name is not an exercise in puerility or superficiality, however, but a portent of Confetti's unrelenting post-whatever-noise-rock-something-something - think the blunt assault of METZ delivered with the laser focus of Erase Errata. Confetti packs a lot into its 30 minutes, but has no time for moroseness, self-indulgence or half-assed bullshit.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Blur - The Magic Whip


Blur flip-flopped on whether or not it would continue to exist and in what capacity enough times over the 12 years since Think Tank that The Magic Whip was anything but inevitable. However, there's reason to believe it isn't intended as a one off. The album was produced by Stephen Street, the band's longest serving producer who worked with them from their stately Britpop era through to 1997's transitional self-titled album, suggesting another ongoing partnership might be in the works. More significantly, though, The Magic Whip has neither a sense of urgency nor finality to it. It neither bolsters nor tarnishes their legacy, but opens the door for the band to do either or both in the future.

No Blur album ever sounded like another, but Damon Albarn has been exploring new sounds with Gorillaz and as a solo artist, so carving out a distinct identity for The Magic Whip was never going to be easy. It's happy enough to revisit the past, but it's frustrating when some of its attempts to move forward have antecedents in the Gorillaz canon. But of course Albarn's world-weary sensibility ensures that the throwbacks are not mere exercises in nostalgia, and the more forward-looking material really resonates when it does work. The MVP "There Are Too Many of Us" starts with minor synth chords over a marching beat and some subtle, ominous bass work from Alex James and was inspired by the Lindt hostage crisis in Sydney. It's about the muted, impersonal reaction often inspired by watching a tragedy on TV; Albarn wrote the lyrics while switching between watching it that way and directly from a hotel room.

Sitting somewhere above Faith No More's new album and far below Swans' recent output, The Magic Whip has plenty to like about it. Whether there's Blur in our future is impossible to know, but the evidence presented suggests it's not a foolish thing to want.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Torres- Sprinter


Torres' self-titled debut, released at the start of 2013, announced Mackenzie Scott as one of the breakout songwriters of the decade. The stock phrase is "confessional singer-songwriter", but the then 22 year-old's songs were sophisticated and three dimensional enough that she'd already outgrown that term.

Scott's improved songcraft and her experiences since Torres give Sprinter a character the first album didn't really hint at, and couldn't have, as it is the product of two years' worth of emotional upheaval that included personal betrayals and a redefinition of her religious faith. It starts at its most intense with "Strange Hellos", which recalls Nirvana, and I mean that reverently, not reductively; here, Scott channels Cobain better than anyone else I've ever heard as she excoriates a former friend. The song casts a shadow long enough to obscure the rest of the album, at least at first. Other highlights "Ferris Wheel" and "The Exchange" burn more slowly, but no less brightly than "Waterfall" from the first album. Sprinter doesn't hide its influences (90s rock in particular), yet defies easy categorisation throughout and presents multiple doors for Mackenzie Scott to kick down in the future.

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