melophobe - concert reviews and concert photos

Adam Arcuragi and the Lupine Chorale Society - PA’s Lounge (Somerville, MA; Feb. 3, 2012)

2012-02-07T03:21:50-05:00

It’s been a long, cold winter.

Although really, it hasn’t been a long, cold winter. Maybe it’s because it’s been about two months since I’ve been to a show. Welcome to winter in Boston. It felt good to shake off the cob webs and head out to PA’s lounge to see the much-heralded up-and-comers Adam Arcuragi and the Lupine Chorale Society last Friday night. It felt so good that I didn’t even question why they were playing PA’s Lounge.

Touring in support of the freshly-minted release “Like a fire that consumes all before it...” it was clear that Adam and his pack were prepared to take on PA’s Lounge. It was equally as clear that PA’s wasn’t ready for these fellas to come storming in (my guess is someone in the tour management department is going to get put in time out for this one.) Clearly the biggest issue for Adam & Co. was sound. Maybe the sound guy was having an off night, or maybe these guys just put a little more demand on the place than it was used to handling, but regardless of the reason, it was evident from the first notes that there would always be that unsettled feeling for the performers (and the attendees) as they wondered when the next round of feedback would be echoing through the intimate little venue.

Perhaps it was partially because of those difficulties, those struggles that bands who are trying to make it know all to well, that Arcuragi and friends’ remarkable set made me feel like I’d actually discovered something great despite the fact that all of Boston’s indie blogs were well represented that evening. It really seemed like we’d found that diamond in the rough we all live to unearth. Near perfect timing, foot-stomping rhythms, soaring vocals, family-style instrumentation and harmonies to spare. That’s what if feels like to be present when a band makes it’s first big wave. I fear I may not get to see that band play in a venue that small ever again.

Adam Arcuragi and the Lupine Chorale: Twitter | Facebook | Website

DOWNLOAD: Adam Arcuragi and the Lupine Chorale Society - Oh I See (MP3)

Laura Gibson + Breathe Owl Breathe + Mike Midlo - Mississippi Studios (Portland, OR; Feb. 3, 2012)

2012-02-06T00:36:22-05:00

Laura Gibson sang to friendly faces at home in Portland Friday night. Cozy, be-balconied Mississippi Studios played a lovely host - I spied from on high as Mike Midlo, Breathe Owl Breathe, and Gibson played in the spotlight (for the second time that night). A real treat of an evening: little known opener turn out to be gems, songs I hope will be played sound even better live.

Growing up in Northeast Portland, we had neighborhood pancake breakfasts in The Madeline School parking lot each summer. The grocer from Alameda Foods was the griddle master. We’d sit and eat at picnic tables pushed together in long rows. Breakfast outside! Pancake Breakfast the band is from Portland, OR and they bill themselves as Americana, Rock, Roots. Mike Midlo and two other members of Pancake Breakfast kick off the evening’s festivities. Their music is foot-stomping and honest, gentle but then in a minute barreling...and happy! I love watching fun being had making music. If the curtain fell and the lights came up when they ended, I would have left content.

Breathe Owl Breathe hails from Michigan. I first heard about them from a fellow melophobe, who quite luckily caught their cape-clad performance way out at The Woods Stage, Pickatlon 2009. Traveling light on this tour, many of the instruments they hauled on stage were borrowed...cello, banjo, candy apple red guitar. A tiny plastic pineapple marraka also made an appearance. Quirky and funny in their banter (I can’t remember a show where I giggled so much), Breathe Owl Breath’s sound is stitched together with echos, breaths, scratches, and yelps which grow in the spaces between words and impart an organic depth.

Laura Gibson is a class act. Her sound is expansive and personal, breathy and rich, strong. This night, she was ringed by a clutter of musician friends - flute, clarinet, base, percussion - and more adoring fans flanking the stage. La Grande was the present of the night, unwrapped song by song. Those songs best received were full with sound, while softer, more acoustic pieces let some chatter filter through and rocked others in the audience to sleep. The next morning I ran in the woods and around a lake near my home. I listened to La Grande two times through as my body woke up, the movement in the songs moving me forward, the sadness in some turning my mind inward and away from the grade of the hill, the force of wind.

DOWNLOAD: Laura Gibson - La Grande (MP3)

melophobe Mutiny 2011: Why Our Top 20 List Sucks!

2012-01-02T00:21:32-05:00

There is no way in hell a group of obsessive music fans are going to completely agree on their top 20 list. It’s just not possible. You can get pretty close, and that’s what we do every year, but never all the way. melophobe has a go-to remedy, though, that seems to soothe any natural discontent. It’s called the melophobe mutiny, and for the third year running, it is what our contributors use as an excuse to throw as much venom as they can at any album that they can’t stand. I think it’s safe to say, it’s also most people’s favorite feature of the year. That said, we don’t want to publish a slam book; so any time someone makes a case for throwing an album out, they also have to lift another up in its place. Those are the rules of the road. So have a look at where we landed. You just might find yourself agreeing with the lesser points of an album you thought you loved. I know a few of us did.

Nicci Boots - Out with Bon Iver: Bon Iver and in with Jamie Woon: Mirrorwriting

Despite his heavy reliance on, and apparent love for, auto-tune, Justin Vernon is probably a pretty cool guy. No regular Joe Schmo gets hand-picked by Kanye West to help put together an album, then share vocals with the likes of ‘Ye, Rick Ross, Jay-Z and Nicki Minaj on that same album, right? And if you’re capable of isolating yourself in the woods for a season, to overcome both a girl and band break-up, and end up creating a heavy-selling, widely appraised record while out there, you’ve obviously got some cool to you, right?!

Still, I’m yet to glean any “cool,” or much enjoyment at all, from Vernon’s sophomore release, and I’ve come at it from about a hundred different angles. I didn’t mind For Emma, Forever Ago, but Bon Iver, Bon Iver is tough to swallow. Overall, it feels he’s trying too hard to make it different, forcing slide guitar and synthesizer to play nice while layering his somewhat whiney, and weirdly varying, vocals over them. It’s a jumbled mess, in my book, yet many claim the album to be revolutionary, as well as beautiful.

Wanna talk true beauty, or successful innovation, for that matter? Start by bringing Jamie Woon into your life. Woon’s debut, Mirrorwriting, marries ‘90s R&B with the most dancing of electro-beat, and does so in such a smooth and soul-touched way, it leaves your brain dripping with low vibration. Each song hints at so many different eras of R&B, and does it well, never getting lost in an attempt to stay both within, and outside of, the box. Bon Iver tried to do that, and his album fell short in its unnecessary additions. Mirrorwriting, on the other hand, is more than just an exciting record–it’s a solid upgrade on the idea of what sexy music can do with itself, and how subtle mixing of genres can develop an untouchable sound.

Jamie Woon isn’t just cool, he’s an ambassador of trip-soul awesome. Play Mirrorwriting at your next party, and it’ll leave you dancing, getting laid, or sitting spell-struck on a couch. You’re welcome.

Daniel Couch - Out with Fleet Foxes: Helplessness Blues and in with Wilco: The Whole Love

It has only been three years since the Fleet Foxes’ self-titled full-length debut, but to hear them on Helplessness Blues, you would think it has been thirty. Their sophomoric sophomore release is full of premature reflection on a bygone youth not nearly yet gone, a shortsighted and self-absorbed indulgence that evokes (a crime in itself) Drew Barrymore’s autobiography. You know, the one she published at the ripe old age of fifteen.

What makes the Fleet Foxes’ constant references to times since passed so cringe-worthy is that they seem to believe that through their experience they have developed a deep and profound insight. That’s not to say they come across as know-it-alls. Instead, they stare bewildered at the unknowable vastness and mutter bumper sticker aphorisms in rich, reverb-soaked harmonies. The songs are as clumsy and muddled as the ideas, dragged down with awkward, pretentious phrasing and a forced grandeur that substitutes movements for mere verses and choruses. Their ambition is admirable at times, but they simply don’t have the heft to pull it off.

The record that actually offers insight from experience and deserves the Fleet Foxes’ spot among the top twenty is Wilco’s The Whole Love, their eighth studio release in what is now a seventeen-year career. During that time, Wilco’s been dismissed and heralded, redefined both their sound and lineup multiple times, and temporarily stalled out as their lead singer battled addiction. The Whole Love shakes off the weight that accompanies it all with a renewed buoyancy, confidence and sense of scope, seemingly unafraid of having fun for its own sake or facing up to demons of the past.

Helplessness Blues searches for the answers to what it thinks are deep, important questions and looks back wistfully on a thread of life experience, calling it a tapestry and wondering why it provides no warmth. The Whole Love also looks back but is much cagier about revealing what it sees, hinting at an outline of loneliness and resignation while managing to keep from taking any of it too seriously. It’s a level of awareness the Fleet Foxes might attain sooner than Wilco managed, but they aren’t there yet.

Josh Bean - Out with Jay-Z and Kanye West: Watch The Throne and in with Oddisee: Rock Creek Park

Rarely has an album garnered such acclaim on so little substance. In a year where hip-hop has thrived on innovation (see Shabazz Palaces, Death Grips, Danny Brown), Watch the Throne exists solely on hype and previously-earned accolades. With all due respect to my colleague, Ian Doreian, why on earth would I want to listen to a record of a couple of buddies messing around, when they could be making something great? Watch the Throne provides the bare minimum of what might be expected from a collaboration of this generation’s most influential hip-hop artists: some banging beats under arrogant verse after arrogant verse. Sadly, it fails to capitalize on the strengths of either MC: Jay-Z sounds enthused on only a few tracks, allowing his well-practiced flow to carry sub-par verses, and Kanye lacks any of the insight or depth that made MBDTF great, and instead, often sounds like a petulant child. Granted, Watch the Throne has good moments, in particular, “Niggas In Paris,” whose menacing beat propels Jay’s impenetrable delivery to exciting heights. However, solid production can carry an album only so far. And without comparable lyrics or energy, the project cannot sustain itself through repeated listens.

Oddisee’s Rock Creek Park is everything Watch the Throne is not. Arriving with little fanfare and containing no certified bangers, Rock Creek Park is innovative, exciting, and endlessly replayable. Soul gives way to bossa nova gives way to smooth jazz gives way to funk in Oddisee’s beautifully textured pieces. Underlying these impeccably layered instrumentals are hip-hop grooves that keep your head nodding from track to track. In short, the depth and thoughtfulness of the compositions on Rock Creek Park are of a caliber not often seen in today’s hip-hop arena. Nor is its versatility. Rock Creek Park fits equally well backing a dinner party as it does filling your headphones on a 2 a.m. walk home from your local drinkery. Or, as Oddisee puts it, “it’s a summer time feel good record for that ass.”

Jarrod Dunham - Out with M83: Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming and in with Nicolas Jaar: Space Is Only Noise

The way people are going on about the “epic” Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming, you’d think M83 invented the crescendo. Newsflash: he didn’t. The fact of the matter is, he hasn’t invented much of anything lately, this year’s offering being at best a reinvention of every previous M83 release. So it comes as a surprise that the cheap thrills that are the bread and butter of every one of those albums have somehow retained their power to suck in gullible listeners. That’s not to say the album is without its strengths: it does, for instance, sound pretty sweet as background music. It might even work as an alternate soundtrack to a bad sci-fi movie or some contemplative indie film. But if it’s cinematic you’re looking for, try Nicolas Jaar’s Space is Only Noise instead. While M83 was busying himself crafting intricately layered redundancies from the refuse of Hollywood’s dustbin, Jaar quietly created the best electronic album of the year, an album that is a cinematic experience in and of itself. Granted, the more patient approach of Space is Only Noise isn’t as immediately stimulating as Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming, but that’s only because Jaar, on his full-length debut, has already mastered what consistently escapes the go-for-broke M83: the art of subtlety.

Michael Zonenashvili - Out with The Decemberists: The King Is Dead and in with Beirut’s The Rip Tide

Too much slide guitar will kill you. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen. The Decemberists’ newest, The King is Dead may have been a breath of fresh air for many, especially after a prog-ridden concept album that divided camps pretty strongly. However, some magic was gone after this effort. I understand, you guys went out onto a farm and did some pastorals, a couple of hymns, and went full Americana on our ears; these things all go together, but maybe not for the Decemberists. The switch from songs that begin with “I am (insert esoteric occupation)” to country jams is a bit jarring. The mood shift just doesn’t sit right; and while the songs, in their merits, are very well crafted and pretty, I can think of a phase shift that better suits a top 20 list.

Beirut’s The Rip Tide shifts from a trend of albums that evoke a specific ethnic sound, to a more whittled down Beirut sound, drawing from each of their influences. Gone are the Eastern European drinking chants and the Spanish trumpets, but introduced are those same sounds in a different setting. The Rip Tide takes from some of Beirut’s previous tropes--electronic elements on “Vagabond” and “Santa Fe,” trumpet-centered crescendos, and even a piano ballad--to create a short and extremely sweet album. Take “Port of Call” as a culmination of Beirut’s sound, and perhaps the prettiest thing they’ve ever written. The ukulele straight out of “Elephant Gun” is slowly joined by scattered piano notes, drums, horns, and harmony until it reaches its peak and ends the album, and if I had my way, that one song could put Beirut on a top 20 list in an instant.

Portlanders! Radiation City are playing Outkast’s Love Below on NYE

2011-12-28T23:36:28-05:00

On New Years Eve, Radiation City are covering Outkast’s Love Below. Let it sink it in. Now slowly let out a “hell yeah.” That record is so wacked out that any attempt to replicate the treasures that Three Stacks built into it should end in something that is worth anyone’s time. Want to go? You can get tickets by clicking here. Doors are at 8, show is at 9, and the rest of the bill includes Nurses (headliner), Wild Ones and DJ Beyonda. Mount up, and put your freak flag on standby. This one is probably going to get a little crazy.

Top 20 Best Albums of 2011

2011-12-21T18:22:17-05:00

After a year of sharing and discussing new music, melophobe’s contributors reached some form of groupthink or shared aesthetic—at least half of our contributors voted for our top five albums, and those albums significantly surpassed the remaining fifteen. We also had our closest finish to-date, with our #1 album beating out #2 by two points. [Perhaps if our #2 artist paid attention to how our #1 artist transitions songs, it would’ve won.] It’s no surprise that most of these artists also played some of our favorite tours this year. In fact, contributors in Seattle, Portland, and Boston all considered our #1 artist the best live act of 2011.

A note on our method: 17 voters had 100 points each to distribute to a maximum of 15 albums, with a maximum of 15 points per album.

Here’s the summarized list:

20. Girls - Father, Son, Holy Ghost
19.-17. (3-way tie) The Decemberists - The King is Dead
19.-17. (3-way tie) Elzhi - Elmatic
19.-17. (3-way tie) Cut Copy - Zonoscope
16. Deer Tick - Divine Providence
15. Washed Out - Within and Without
14. The Kills - Blood Pressures
13. Dan Mangan - Oh Fortune
12. Radiohead - King of Limbs
11. The Weeknd - House of Balloons
10. St. Vincent - Strange Mercy
09. Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues
08. Jay-Z & Kanye West - Watch the Throne
07. Wu Lyf - Go Tell Fire to the Mountain
06. Shabazz Palaces - Black Up
05. Bon Iver - Bon Iver, Bon Iver
04. James Blake - James Blake
03. tUnE-yArDs - w h o k i l l
02. The Antlers - Burst Apart
01. M83 - Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming

Girls: Father, Son, Holy Ghost (True Panther)
(22 points, 4 votes)

Girls’ second record, Father, Son, Holy Ghost, kicks off dabbling in the waning surf rock trend without going–forgive the term–overboard. From there, it travels through early ‘90s indie rock nostalgia and low-fi charm on tracks like “Saying I Love You” and “Forgiveness,” before ending on a somber breakup song. With this progression, it’s a prime album to blast out of your speakers while lying on a towel in the sunshine, or when you’re dreaming of summer when caught in a November downpour. - Caitlin Lilly

The Decemberists: The King is Dead (Rough Trade / Capitol)
(23 points, 3 votes)

The Decemberists - Down By The Water by MMMusic

For many, the Decemberists have never fully realized the promise of 2002’s Castaways and Cutouts. There is much to like about their debut full-length, but with each album that followed, it became increasingly clear that the Decemberists took the wrong lessons from its success, leaving behind the hauntingly arranged folk that emphasized smart storytelling and rich detail for self-indulgent literacy and overwrought concept records.

By The Hazards of Love, the Decemberists’ songs had grown so purple and so precious that Castaways and Cutouts seemed like it had been written by a different band altogether. Thankfully, The King is Dead finally excises the sprawling mess of pretension that had come to burden their material and reclaims the musical territory the band initially staked out in 2002. While some who confuse that mess with ambition and artfulness will unfairly criticize The King is Dead, it’s a strong, solid record of Americana that deftly pays homage to the unseen power of the picket fence while creating something distinct and vibrant.

Nearly ten years after Castaways and Cutouts, the Decemberists have finally realized its potential. Their erstwhile ascendancy to notoriety and the maturity of their songwriting may make that realization seem less exciting to those preoccupied with searching for the next big thing, but in going back to what initially made them interesting rather than providing ever more of what people had come to expect, they have managed to create their best and boldest record to date. - Daniel Couch

Elzhi: Elmatic (self-released)
(23 points, 3 votes)

As I noted in my earlier praise for Elmatic, Elzhi endeavored to refashion hip-hop’s holy grail, Nas’ Illmatic, in his own mold. Incredibly, he succeeds. Unlike the other hip-hop records on this list, Elmatic does not seek to break new sonic territory (Shabazz Palaces - Black Up ) or create arena-filling jams for the masses (Jay-Z and Kanye West - Watch the Throne ). Instead, he has created the purest hip-hop album of the year, one with lyrics so sharp and beats so refined, that it’s easy to forget about the classic that spawned it. - Joshua Bean

Cut Copy: Zonoscope (Modular)
(23 points, 3 votes)

Cut Copy - Blink And You’ll Miss A Revolution by modularpeople

Zonoscope received only an above-average rating in our 50-word review section, but as time passes, Cut Copy’s homage to dance and pop music remains a mainstay across demographics. “Need You Now,” peppered with trilling keyboards and fist-pumping drums, is a perfect introduction to the aesthetic of their musical landscape. And as you travel from the tribal percussion of “Blink and You’ll Miss a Revolution” to the jazzy rhythm guitar of “Hanging Onto Every Heartbeat,” the world dissolves and delivers you to their perspective of Utopian groovin’. - Danielle Fowler

Deer Tick: Divine Providence (Partisan)
(39 points, 5 votes)

Deer Tick “Main Street” by Partisan Records

It would be hard for me to say something about Deer Tick that hasn’t already been said again and again and again on our site, so we’ll keep this one brief.

Divine Providence, the Rhode Island band’s fourth official full-length release, is, as the band themselves state: “raw, loud, heartfelt, and completely uninterested in whatever the hell the rest of the music industry is up to.” Party anthems, think pieces, JonBenét Ramsey references, psycho-killer ditties and Paul-Westerberg-penned cigarette tributes: it’s all in there and it’s all out there, for you to love or hate. And I really don’t think they care which one you do, because they’re having a damn good time.

Those looking for something similar to previous Deer Tick releases will probably be sorely disappointed. The only thing this album has in common with the others is that it’s exactly what the band felt like playing at that moment. Expecting something of Deer Tick, be it how they act or the kind of music they play, is probably accountable for some of the bad reviews for this record. This is a musical group you don’t want to pin down. Grab ahold and go for the ride. I promise it will be entertaining to say the least.

There’s no substitute for seeing Deer Tick live, but this album is as close as you can get without paying too much for a PBR. Put the album on, grab a bunch of friends, pour some beer on yourself, break a few things, throw your fists in the air, and dance around screaming until you’re hoarse. It’ll almost feel like you were there. Almost, but not quite. - Steve Benoit

Washed Out: Within and Without (Sub Pop)
(27 points, 4 votes)

Is Ernest Greene’s Washed Out just a sexier version of Owl City, another basement singer/producer who strikes myspace gold? You might dismiss it as chillwave or synth-snooze, but Washed Out works atmospheric vocals and looped keyboards towards catharsis worthy of a Camus novella. There are blissfully bright moments that send your soul soaring upwards, as on the sparkly existential path taken by “Amor Fati.” Yet the fateful optimism destructs on “You and I,” where lovers sift through the shards of a relationship. Greene offers, “Under untrue circumstances, I forget all of your vain pretenses” to describe a serious communication meltdown. This Sturm und Drang makes for moments of discomfort, a feeling of too much information. The cover art signals as much, as we can’t fully tell if the couple is reaching pain or pleasure from their embrace. While many might just chill to Within and Without, there’s an undercurrent of stark emotion that makes for a slightly voyeuristic experience. And you can’t stop listening. - Ian Doreian

The Kills: Blood Pressures (Domino)
(29 points, 2 votes)

Jamie Hince and Allison Mosshart have always known how to instigate sex with their often slow and sensual blues rock. But with Blood Pressures, they demand the sex be had, with hot, pounding rhythm and lustful, thumping beats. A touch of punk snarl comes slithering out of both Mosshart’s voice and Hince’s mean guitar as the duo delivers their best record to date. Those few times the album stops for a breather, to give us a more lonesome ballad, it comes charging back with little abandon, acting almost ashamed it let you see its emotional side. From start to finish, The Kills hammer out a delicious medley of danceable tunes, and in the closing “Pots and Pans,” they slow things down to powerfully remind us that they’ll never lose their sultry signature sound--a sound no other band has come close to replicating. - Nicci Boots

Dan Mangan: Oh Fortune (Arts & Crafts)
(32 points, 3 votes)

One minute and eight seconds. That’s about how long it took for Canadian troubadour Dan Mangan’s third full-length release, Oh, Fortune, to get its foot in the door of my musical brain and heart. Give the first track ("About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All") a listen, and you’ll see why. It pushes off with Wilco-ish noise, moves gracefully into strings and poetic lyrics, and climactically swells up into a grandiose, orchestral blossom. Don’t let this verbose, hyperbolic description stop you from listening to this album. Honestly, I just don’t know how else to say it.

Lyrics run from the dizzyingly self-reflective ("where did I go? / what am I doing? / what time is it? / have I always been filled with questions?"), to broader, societal statements ("people don’t know what they want / they just know they really want it"), to just plain old poetic ("don’t count the feathers / just count the wings / everyday counting"). And each lyric is accompanied by just the right complement of strings, brass, woodwinds, foot-stomping, and, when needed, throat-rattling soul.

Brandishing a sound reminiscent of first-run Mumford and Sons, Wilco, and maybe even some Grizzly Bear, Oh Fortune is immediately digestible. Those looking for a new sound probably won’t get much out of this album, but those looking for something familiar done really fucking well have just hit the jackpot. Best consumed with 41 minutes of solitude, a good pair of headphones, and a pollutant of choice. - Steve Benoit

Radiohead: King of Limbs (XL / TBD)
(36 points, 5 votes)

King of Limbs is largely an electronic album, though it does not shy from audio samples of the wind, nor from flugelhorn arrangements or the sneaky swell of orchestral strings. The album runs for thirty-seven minutes. It’s long enough to lodge in your brain, or short enough to take another listen. Either way, it’s a cerebral treat, featuring meditative songs interlaced with subtle musical ideas and polyrhythmic clacks and bloops. The album is in standard Radiohead form, retaining a signature sound and adhering loosely to the contemporary musical soundscape, while pushing its boundaries at every turn. - Ben Piper

The Weeknd: House of Balloons (self-released)
(38 points, 4 votes)

Yes, you may feel dirty after listening. Yes, several of the indie samples border on pandering. However, once you enter Abel Terfaye’s lusty, cocaine-filled House of Balloons, it simply sounds too good to leave. Not that you’d want to necessarily become a permanent resident in this House; the shit that goes down there isn’t the polished, bloated boasts of Top 40 R&B. It’s filled with hurt, debauchery, and an unending sense of numbness. Terfaye tells his stories with sincere yearning and confidence, wrapped in heavy, reverb-drenched haze. There is no other album in 2011 as drenched in sensuality and atmosphere as The Weeknd’s House of Balloons. It not only makes for a great R&B album, but also for one that lingers in your consciousness long after the record stops. Like much of its subject matter, House of Balloons will leave you strung out and craving more. - Joshua Bean

St. Vincent: Strange Mercy (4AD)
(39 points, 4 votes)

Strange Mercy grabs you by the goolies with its scrupulously observed sound: fuzzed out guitars fooling with gauzy keys on a pristine bed of roofied rhythms–as if Grizzly Bear grew a pair, or three. But being ensorcelled is not the same as falling in love (just ask Tilda Swinton), and Annie Clark’s Ice Queen may or may not float your boat. The album’s drama lies in the arctic pursuit of fissures in the frigidity, qv. “Surgeon,” which pulses beneath unparted permafrost: the closest Clark comes to cracking is skipping a breathless octave, buoyed by blood-in-the-water guitar. “Dilettante,” on the album’s still more immobile second half, barely sports a fracture in its frozen facade.

Annie Clark is not interested in seduction, you see. If her voice is a shade less authoritarian than her guitar, it is solely by an act of will, and perhaps of mercy. When, on the title track, she brandishes her guitar like a well-balanced chainsaw and sings, “If I ever meet that dirty policeman / Who roughed you up / No I, I don’t know what,” you think Jerry Sandusky, if you ever see Annie Clark coming, run. She will fuck you up. - Andrew Iliff

Fleet Foxes: Helplessness Blues (Sub Pop)
(47 points, 6 votes)

The lyric, “If I had an orchard / I’d work ‘til I’m sore” from the title track says a lot about this album; it captures at once the longing for the unattainable and the thrill of the pursuit thereof. Also, these guys must love apples. Helplessness Blues is markedly less poppy than their debut. This time, the focus is on colorful arrangements, tastefully adorned with soaring violin lines and triumphant swells of brass. The lavish orchestration serves primarily as a foundation, save a few spots, including the bit in “The Shrine/An Argument” where dueling saxes squawk like rabid geese. As always, Robin Pecknold sings lyrics that make you sit up and listen, and thanks to some masterful production, trademark harmonies washed in reverb and varied layers of guitar tracks round out a massive folk sound on a terrific sophomore release. - Ben Piper

Jay-Z & Kanye West: Watch the Throne (Def Jam / Roc-A-Fella / Roc Nation)
(50 points, 5 votes)

Like 2010’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, Watch the Throne divided the melophobe crew into two camps. And also like last year, Kanye’s crass, grating flow was a deciding factor—either you love it or hate it. But although both rappers hope their children don’t repeat their mistakes (see “New Day”), there are few apologies here. Jay-Z and Kanye have fully embraced the absurdity of fame, money, and debauchery. Coke-filled nights coupled with philosophical musings, Rolodexes coupled with fish fillet: it’s all meaningless. “What’s 50 grand to a mothafucka like me / Can you please remind me?” They’ve asked themselves this question 168 times during the Watch the Throne tour, and they still don’t have the answer. - Beth Freeman Doreian

Wu Lyf: Go Tell Fire to the Mountain (L Y F)
(74 points, 11 votes)

Civilized, my ass. The same fuck-fight-eat-seek model that has been driving us since we lived in caves is still what motivates us as human beings. There is no use denying it, and WU LYF never tries to. On Go Tell Fire to the Mountain, they court their primal selves as if their very salvation in this life depended on it. They howl and stomp and extend the fold to new members with every ounce of spirit they can muster. This is what it would sound like if cavemen held church services. This is the feeling punk still wished it had. Through organ hums and lush, reverberating notes, you find power and joy from words that are nearly impossible to understand. But somehow you know exactly where they came from. They tap into somewhere deep, somewhere primitive and unconscious. Which is why their shows are full of untamed people just howling back sounds in whatever form of syllables they feel are right. Some people call this place your lizard brain. Others call it your id. I call it the muse behind the most exciting collection of songs we’ve seen in years. Consider this your wake-up call. - Colin McLaughlin

Shabazz Palaces: Black Up (Sub Pop)
(62 points, 7 votes)

Nothing else sounds like Shabazz Palaces, and in 2011 you’d be hard pressed to find anything that sounded better. As Palaceer Lazaro, Ishmael Butler takes his flow (instantly recognizable from his days in Digable Planets) and sends it to another galaxy. The result is something both hypnotically organic and wildly futuristic. It’s a masterpiece of dissonance. Challenging enough to become more satisfying on each listen, but primal enough that you can still nod your head. - Liana Joubert

Bon Iver: Bon Iver, Bon Iver (4AD / Jagjaguwar)
(86 points, 8 votes)

Setting aside the New Artist label currently being bandied about by the Recording Academy (get it together, Grammys), Bon Iver’s latest isn’t another For Emma, Forever Ago. And it isn’t different enough for me to claim that it’s a new start, or beyond requiring a comparison. Rather, it is an excellent, enchanting, engaging sophomore LP from Justin Vernon.

Not as haunting or as memorable as the debut, Bon Iver nonetheless presents a tight package of lilting melodies and intertwining harmonies, with top tracks on par with those from For Emma. “Holocene” leads the pack with its pulsing repetitions; “Beth/Rest” is a surprising change in form, replete with “We Are the World”-style instrumentals and an almost Kenny-Loggins-like feel throughout. The album rewards multiple listens, in headphones especially. It’s been months and months (miles and miles), and I’m still thinking it’ll be yet another damn Good Winter with Bon Iver to keep us warm. - Ari Sommer

James Black: James Blake (A&M / ATLAS)
(87 points, 9 votes)

More than a decade after its controversial breakthrough in the music industry, Auto-Tune has its first masterpiece. James Blake’s self-titled debut is spare, understated, and ultimately an astounding achievement. Blake’s digitally-enhanced voice soars like that of a gospel singer, and one is simply carried away by the vision and ingenuity of a man who has taken a once-derided technology and put it to its purest creative expression to date. Though not lacking in singles–the introspective “Wilhelm Scream,” the “Lindisfarne” suite, the darkly poppy “Limit to Your Love”–the album is a cerebral affair, unfolding slowly in an essential progression from start to finish. It can be challenging, and many will not have the patience for the repeated listens over which it gradually reveals its beauty. For all that, however, James Blake may prove over time to be the most significant release of the year. - Jarrod Dunham

tUnE-yArDs: w h o k i l l (4AD)
(104 points, 12 votes)

w h o k i l l is the loose, cathartic yawp of a brilliant musician emboldened by the success of a quirky debut. Merrill Garbus makes the jump from low to high fidelity, expanding her already expansive sonic spectrum without sacrificing any ethos. Indeed, the increased production value on w h o k i l l serves as a magnifying glass for tUnE-yArDs’ mesmerizing complexity. This is not an album that leaves you wanting; it’s an album that leaves you buzzing. Raw, open-throat melodies mix with belching brass and layered percussion, topped by challenging (and catchy-as-hell) lyrics. It’s a rhythmic, clattering beast that, by all counts, should burst at the seams. Instead it blows your mind. - Chris Barth

The Antlers: Burst Apart (Frenchkiss)
(111 points, 10 votes)

Although it’s fair to listen to an album with expectations, sometimes certain expectations are not okay. After Hospice, my favorite album (yes, ever), I listened to The Antlers’ Burst Apart with the irrational expectation of a concept album, the expectation that I’d cry twice (or choke up four times), and that there would be some 8+ minute jams. Needless to say, the first go around, I was disappointed. Where are my crescendos? Why is there anything that breaks the mold of dark, broody atmosphere? And where is my heavy subject matter? The Antlers’ refusal to be pigeonholed into another Hospice directly paralleled my refusal to like anything new. And that was my own problem. However, this refusal to be lumped into the same “sad, concept album” realm for the rest of their career is what led to the formation of a truly great album. No concept? No problem. Each song encapsulates a concept or story in itself. Take the frustration of “Every Night my Teeth are Falling Out” or the slow creep of “No Widows.” The showcase of Peter Silberman’s falsetto comes to the forefront of many a song. The keyboards aren’t tied to the same music-box sounds, breaking out into the sawtooth synth of “French Exit.” I could go on! Look at the gut-wrenching lyrical and musical content of “Putting the Dog to Sleep.” I should’ve seen all of these from the beginning. I was just too stubborn. - Michael Zonenashvili

M83: Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming (Mute)
(113 points, 9 votes)

As Riley so aptly put in melophobe’s Top 10 Best Electronic Albums list, “In an era of throwaway digital singles, here is an album.” From start to finish (and with a needed intermission between disks), Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming tricks you into believing you’re reading an epic tale of great meaning. But really, Anthony Gonzalez simply threw together a collection of great dance songs—full of rad, throwback guitars, synths, and saxophone—in a loose, greatly appreciated narrative structure. Gonzalez takes the listener through waves of climax and rest by intermixing singles with transitional pieces—sometimes atmospheric and tone-setting (“When Will You Come Home?”) and sometimes building and salient (“Another Wave from You”). You easily get lost in the story, but when it’s over, you have no idea what you just read. So although we won’t claim Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming is groundbreaking or even innovative, no 2011 album made us as happy. - Beth Freeman Doreian

Top 10 Best Hip-Hop Albums/Mixtapes of 2011

2011-12-19T13:49:42-05:00

Recently, there’s been been a general lament on the state of hip-hop. Although issuing a few standouts, recent years have done little to assuage this concern. 2011 has been different. Nearly a dozen records that would have easily appeared on lists past did not make this year’s final cut. Below are the ten that did.

The Roots: Undun

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If you sleep on The Roots, much can happen. In the past three years they have produced three albums of their own material, and a collaboration of soul protest songs with John Legend. Now, they release their 10th studio album and it raised a host of questions:

So you heard that Sufjan plays piano on the last song? Did NPR pique your interest enough to stream the album? Aren’t these the guys that play some music for Jimmy Fallon’s show? Is there such a thing as concept album in rap?

Our answer: don’t say Undun is a great album on the merits of past glory or indie credibility. That betrays the solid song cycle that finally permits Black Thought and Dice Raw to do what they do best. And that’s what The Roots do best on this album.

?uestlove’s boom-bap drums make their first appearance on “One Time,” which seems a fitting place to explain what makes Undun so special. The song takes the idea of being on time as the existential crisis facing those who live a street life. Phonte opens with light word play and contemporary allusions, then cedes the mic to Black Thought. To my ears, Black Thought is the Walt Whitman of contemporary hip hop. If Jay-Z is all about enjambment to spring a catch phrase, Kanye elongating vowels, Drake end stopping his way through robotic line after robotic line, Black Thought expands his barbaric yelp to supreme effect. He concludes his portion with these lines:
“Then I went missing looking for the sublime/ A nigga stayed low left the ladder unclimbed/Time after time, verse blank, the line unrhymed.”
In the final verse, Dice Raw continues this idea with a deft twist: “But hopping over gates to escape is sublime/Then through the alley way and down to the sub line.”

This conceit of street sublime, beauty though torn by brokenness, is what makes Undun a superb album. The Roots reached this level of musical and philosophical greatness on Things Fall Apart, and it looks like they’re back. Welcome. - Ian Doreian

Hasaan Mackey & Apollo Brown: Daily Bread

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It’s been a good year for Detroit producter, Apollo Brown. Following the excellent, instrumental Clouds, Brown teamed up with Rochester MC, Hassaan Mackey, and brought us one of the hardest-hitting releases of 2011, Daily Bread. Mackey’s gritty voice and no-nonsense delivery pairs exquisitely with Brown’s soul-infused, Dilla-channeling, boom-bap. Add the incredibly relevant lyrical subject matter and the result is banger after banger that hold up listen after listen. - Joshua Bean

Blueprint: Adventures in Counter Culture

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“I’m what the future sound like and I’mma make you see it.” Blueprint’s ambitious statement on “Clouds” is certainly well-meaning, but probably the furthest thing from the truth: it’s doubtful the future will usher in a new crop of firey MCs, spitting bars about the dangers of alcohol abuse or international politics. He hits the nail on the head in “My Culture” when he raps “So when these rappers only talk about a home or a broad / It’s cause they don’t know what’s happening at home or abroad.” Blueprint is not cut from the same cloth as most other rappers. He’s more progressive thematically, which may be, in part, why he continues to have such a low profile, despite over a decade of solid production. Musically, Blueprint’s sound maintains some of the funk that influenced his earlier sound, but he makes a conscious decision to sound more “futuristic,” implementing more synths into the equation. He is also not afraid to add new elements to his sound, with gorgeous vocals by Angelica Lee in “Mind Body and Soul” and his own, surprisingly strong vocals in “So Alive” and “Stole Our Yesterday.” While he may get preachy at points, this is easily overlooked by the earnestness and intensity that run through Adventures in Counter-Culture. - Joshua Bean

Jay Z & Kanye West: Watch the Throne

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Watch the Throne is an imperative album. Don’t misinterpret its title as an absent monarch’s parting edict, or a claim of Vatican level hubris. Rather it’s a gentle nudge for Jay and Yeezy to notice where they are in this stage of their careers: unrestrained and unbelievable.

For both rappers, Watch the Throne provides a needed break from their professional personas. They are free to scamper around their royal chambers, a reveling and reverential treatment of success. The black & white trailer for the album introduced this idea as we observed stoic posturing and lighthearted studio sessions. Gone is the hyper symbolism of “On to the Next One,” the quasi-commentary of “All of the Lights,” and what remains is just two friends making music. This allows us to enjoy, without any cynicism, the claims of “inventing swag” or sampled dialogue from Blades of Glory.

What pushes the album beyond a party record is how it manages its ostentatious swagger with stripped emotions. Where Kanye previously used expansive imagery or crass lyrics to speak of past indiscretions, Watch the Throne permits raw statements like “Don’t be like your daddy that would never budge/And I’ll never let him ever hit a strip club.” Jay sounds like a father in some places, and even through the puerile descriptions of Beyoncé’s assets there’s a touch of self-deprecation that this dope dealer managed to put a ring on it.

Existential brooding (“Welcome to the Jungle”), shadow economy (“Made in America”), and party bangers (“Otis”) makes this a vast collection of songs. Jay and Hov share the mic and recover much of the fun they had discarded on recent disks, placing these two icons in an accessible place, Hublot and Maybach references intact. - Ian Doreian

Kendrick Lamar: Section 80

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This isn’t a new idea. For years, rappers have been tapping into their emotional side, testing the waters with concept albums, and patchworking styles together to make something that feels new. But Kendrick Lamar manages to do all of the above with such ease on Section.80 that it’s hard to believe it’s a 24-year-old’s debut. Unlike many of his blog rap contemporaries, Lamar isn’t naïve, pandering, or overly referential. He’s Drake meets Bone Thugs with a West Coast pedigree, bridging the gap between the past and the present without it seeming like a stretch. The last track of Section.80 embodies that mix, flipping the chorus from Kanye’s “So Appalled” convincingly: “Five star dishes/Food for thought, bitches/I mean this shit is/Bobby Seale making meals, you can’t resist his.” Food for thought indeed. - Chris Barth

Cities Aviv : Digital Lows

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Death, girls and mischief. You might think I’m about to reference an Odd Future album, but in actuality, this is also the thematic template for Cities Aviv’s Digital Lows. Both introspective and belligerent, Digital Lows is a record seeped in the type of youthful angst that holds “fuck everybody here” and “fuck it, why not?” as reasonable expressions of logic. Soothing soul tracks, Bambaataa blasts, and syrupy Three 6-style cuts are his co-conspirators, and they are frequently used to add emotional weight, or contrast, to some of the messages found in the music. Interestingly enough, what they add weight to are rhymes preoccupied with death, a subject that is weighty enough by itself. This leaves you with a little more to think about than how easy the music was to get behind. It also explains that “fuck it, why not?” is really just an expression of, “life is short, so we have to live hard.” It can be a dark meditation on life, but it’s also a good one, and I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t tell you to seek it out. - Colin McLaughlin

Action Bronson: Dr. Lecter

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It’s tough to put your Ghostface Killah comparisons aside to make way for Action Bronson, but you’re better off leaving that business on the back burner and letting this boy cook. “Yo, three verses ain’t enough anymore these days?” Bronson asks on “The Madness,” but Dr. Lecter leaves little doubt as to his appetite for rapping. He goes all in – and hard – on beat after breakbeat-sampling beat from producer Tommy Mas. The funky vibe doesn’t invite venom, but Bronson delivers it regardless; “Fuck that sittin’ down rap type shit, man.” The Queens native’s flow is heavy with food references, but the tasty debut avoids gimmick through honesty. This is hip hop the way it should be served. - Chris Barth

Black Milk & Danny Brown: Black & Brown!

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In a hype cycle dominated by the collaboration of two hip hop kings, it’s a different one-two punch that delivers the year’s sharpest jab. After teaming up for a track on 2010’s Album Of The Year, Danny Brown and Black Milk throw their lot together again for this potent EP, cranking out a handful of new tracks that are far more interesting and expansive than the album’s 22 minute runtime has any business being. Danny the Hybrid is as uncouth as ever, but his nasal staccato is tempered by Milk’s lush, pulsing beats. “Streets is saying that hip hop needed me/I’m the majesty so greet me as your highness,” raps Brown on “Zap.” The Detroit rap revolution is in full swing, and Black and Brown are gunning for the throne. - Chris Barth

Elzhi: Elmatic

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Elmatic is not your typical mixtape. We’re not talking about canned beats and half-assed, lazily-delivered lines. Elmatic took six weeks to record and has allegedly been in the works for years. Objectively, the care put into Elmatic is on par with, or exceeds, that of most “proper” album releases. The finished product reflects this: Elzhi’s rhymes are incredibly well-crafted and Will Sessions’ backdrop is tight and clean. But this is not what makes Elmatic such a great piece of music.

To begin with, Illmatic is a hallmark record. Every self-respecting hip-hop fan on the planet has it cemented in their top-five of all time. Lyrically and musically, it is as bulletproof as a hip-hop album can get. So, why would any MC use Illmatic as a jumping-off point in creating a new work, when it appears there is nowhere to go but down? In Elzhi’s case, I’ll use a cheap metaphor, suggested by the cover art: Elzhi has struck out to create his own masterpiece, and Illmatic seemed the appropriate canvas on which to paint it. Although seemingly impossible, Elzhi has succeeded, not in creating a work as influential as Illmatic, but in creating a piece so strong that it is in no way overshadowed by its predecessor. Let’s consider the results.

Lyrically, no other hip-hop record in the past several years can match Elmatic. Elzhi can rap. That’s long been established. However, as an MC known primarily for his verbal dexterity, his wordplay often overshadowed other elements of his tracks. On Elmatic, Elzhi’s impressive workplay integrates seamlessly into each song’s theme and story; he pens each track with such care and insight that this might be considered the year’s most personal hip-hop record. For gripping storytelling, social commentary or even straight-up rap bravado, Elzhi’s verses are consistently impressive. “Halftime,” “Memory Lane” and “Detroit State of Mind” are a few examples. At any point in Elmatic, you will come across brilliant lines that make you press rewind to make sure you’ve heard them correctly.

Of course, much of Elzhi’s genius would be lost if not for the musical backdrop provided by Will Sessions. In hindsight, having a full band (re)create Illmatic’s beats seems like a no-brainer: what better way to differentiate yourself from classic beats by DJ Premier, Pete Rock, Q-Tip and others? Starting out, this must have been an incredibly daunting task. And it is one that pays considerable dividends. The music in Elmatic sounds cleaner, the beats hit harder; these are clearly beats for 2011, with the utmost respect paid to those they come from. Hell, even Primo digs them.

I won’t debate whether Elmatic or Illmatic is better. hat such a possibility is even being considered speaks to how powerful Elmatic is. Perhaps the greatest compliment that can be given to Elzhi’s opus, however, is that once you start listening, you forget about Illmatic and become fully invested in Elzhi’s vision. - Joshua Bean

Shabazz Palaces: Black Up

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Black Up is refreshing, in part, because it lacks definition. If you want an easy answer as to what it hopes to gain, this isn’t for you. This is a parallel universe where hip hop never locked onto a specific form, and roams feral like the notes in a free-form jazz record. There is no handholding here; you are free to take from it what you wish. The words aren’t guides and they won’t help you to any type of truth other than your own; they are a mix of broad chants, and ambiguous selections from an untitled poetry book. To describe this album is akin to an act that courts confusion, like relaying the details of a vivid, but vexing fever dream to someone, or trying to explain the reason you fell in love with a Rothko. Words just don’t do some things justice. The only help Ishmael Butler, lead MC of the group, lends to this cause is by chanting, “It’s a feeling.” Yes, that is what this album is. It’s a feeling. An enigmatic selection of morphing sounds, hallucinatory images, and abstract beats that give hope to the premise that hip hop still has ground left to cover. And in an era of predictability, that is like a bright flare to a search party. - Colin McLaughlin

Yasiin Bey - Fete (Providence, RI; Dec.10, 2011)

2011-12-15T02:36:28-05:00

A small splash was made in the media when Mos Def--one-third of Black Star along with fellow front man Talib Kweli and DJ Hi-Tek--announced that he was changing his name to Yasiin Bey. Over the years he has been known by many names and titles--Dante, Flacco, Mos and more--but the purpose of his name change, inspired by the Qur’an, was to erase the separation between performance and personal identity. As Yasiin told MTV, “[I don’t want] to deal [any more] with having any moniker or separation between the self that I see and know myself as.” So with that settled, I walked into the show at Fete Music in Providence prepared to see what this newly monikered and spiritually liberated MC would do.

In fairness, I was a bit skeptical; I had been burned in the past. A little history: I first saw Mos Def live in the ‘90s, on tour with De La Soul and first heard his music as an early Rawkus artist a few years earlier. I was impressed; this dude had undeniable swagger and a classic style. His classified ad might have read: ‘Brooklyn born MC with clear Jamaican influences, political, lyrical and fun seeks socially conscious fans of hip-hop to party with.’ That was the Mos Def I became comfortable with. I saw the launching of Black Star as a step in the right direction, not just for the group but for hip-hop as a whole. Dope production and a balanced attack from two very different but equally competent MCs, it was like the rebirth of A Tribe Called Quest. Mos was heralding a restoration of balance to the force at a time when hip-hop had gone gloriously mainstream, alarmingly tipped to the side of violence and drugs and all things gangster/playerism.

And then it happened. First came the backlash against being called a conscious rapper. I understood; no one likes to be put in a box, but at the time I should have seen the signs of something deeper developing. The most obvious sign of an artist searching for an identity was the experiment known as “Black Jack Johnson,” a foray into rock that left many faithful fans feeling less than impressed. I have to admit I entered a season of skepticism where I was beginning to prefer Mos as an actor.

The opening act, Dirty Durdie, did a more than passable job of representing an up and coming hip-hop act. They repped their DJs, engaged the crowd with a steady stream of call-and-response, and kept the energy up throughout their presentation. It was clear they appreciated the opportunity to play a packed room. At the end of their set came the announcement, “We are experiencing a 15 minunte delay, please stand by.”

In the intervening hour that we waited for Mos to appear, one of the DJs from Dirty Durdie set about spinning an old school hip-hop set. He did well. He got us hyped. He spun the right tunes. Hearing “Faking the Funk” by Main Source, I yelled out, “If he plays ‘Looking at the Front Door’ next he is official; I would even accept ‘Your Mom’s in My Business’ by Special K, but anything else and he is WHACK!!” A few moments later he blended in “Looking at the Front Door” perfectly and dropped it in right on time. I instantly became a fan and considered it a good omen.

Mos rolled out on staged backed up by two DJs, one on wax and the other on beats. Dressed in ‘80s throwback style with a few twists, he plugged in his custom microphone and started soundcheck #2. Technical difficulties got ironed out fairly quickly, and we were off and running, sort of. He announced himself by name, understandable for someone who is already famous to do so when they have just changed their Noms de guerre. He then ran through a few minutes of warm up before launching into some tunes from The Ecstatic. We were then treated to a back and forth of DJs spinning non-Mos Def tunes interspersed with Mos rhyming over the breaks.

Now let me be clear, I like conceptual art, I like it a whole lot. And I also get what Mos was going for with the show. I just disagree with the execution.

Throughout the show, we were treated to snippets of nostalgia bathed in red, red lighting. A roll call of birth years, playing of original tunes that were then sampled as Mos Def tunes, all somewhat understandable--it was his birthday after all, and who doesn’t wax poetic on a birthday? This part of the show clearly seemed a throwback to the basement parties that characterized early hip-hop. The DJ was the main feature in those days, and the MC assisted in keeping the crowd hype during the set. But as fond as my memories are from that time, I am pretty sure, judging from the response, that the crowd was much more interested in hearing tunes from Mos Def’s extensive and impressive catalog.

There were definitely some moments where the show seemed to go off the rails only to gloriously settle down into a thick groove with the crowd going wild. A perfect example was the delivery of “Sunshine/Screwface” which went like this:
1. Long verbal intro of what is about to happen including who produced the song (Dilla), a bit of why Mos thinks the song is dope, and that they will play the instrumental and then he will spit it a cappella and THEN he will perform the song.
2. Play the full instrumental (sick BTW, it is Dilla after all) while dancing for the crowd.
3. Spit the a cappella.
4. finally play the song accompanied by great crowd appreciation

In this sequence, as in the show overall, the best part came at the end. After the long journey through the mind of Yasiin Bey, we were finally treated to some classic Mos Def tunes at the end including “Traveling Man,” which had been loudly requested by the five guys directly behind me throughout the show.

All in all, it was a fairly good show, but I can’t help feeling that if it had been played in the reverse order, it would have been a GREAT show. If he had come out to a classic tune that everyone knew, we would all have instantly forgotten that he made us wait an hour. Instead he made us wait another 90 minutes for what we really came for.

DOWNLOAD: Mos Def - Quiet Dog (MP3)

Photos: The Joy Formidable + Grouplove - Crystal Ballroom (Portland, OR; Dec. 10, 2011)

2011-12-15T01:54:42-05:00

Have me mentioned that we love The Joy Formidable? Ah, yes. A million times. Ritzy Bryan and company’s intense performances always leave us reeling, and Saturday night at the Crystal Ballroom was no exception. Check out Justin Kent’s photos above.

DOWNLOAD: The Joy Formidable - (MP3)

Top 10 Best Electronic Albums of 2011

2011-12-14T00:19:32-05:00

I wonder if an antipodean version of this list would be quite so . . . sad. Could the typical December day in Seattle—a cold, dampish blanket of low stratus clouds—have an undue effect on these rankings, quashing any hope of an uptempo, disco-drenched #1? Let’s consult the record:

2007: The Field - From Here We Go Sublime

This we can forgive. That album is fucking amazing.

2008: N/A

Bye year. [Though if you put a time-traveling gun to my head, Flying Lotus’ darkly twisted Los Angeles would’ve been up there.]

2009: The Field - Yesterday and Today

I plain fucked this one up. I mean sure, it’s a good album, but Fever Ray deserved the title. The bleak, foreboding tones which conjured nighttime in a primeval forest; the plaintive drone of Karin Dreijer Andersson’s subhuman vocals—oh, wait. Not helping.

2010: Gold Panda - Lucky Shiner

You could almost trick yourself into thinking this is happy music, but a mean trick it’d be. Sonically, Gold Panda owes a substantial debt to the likes of Four Tet and DJ Shadow: guys whose idea of a good time is a sleepless night, alone, in a windowless studio, with an obsolete sampler. This is music for headphones, not for dancing.

Actually, that’s not a bad subtitle. Here then, to accompany your weekly S.A.D. treatment under the sun lamp, I humbly present:

The Top 10 Electronic Albums of 2011 [for headphones, not for dancing]

Tiger & Woods: Through the Green

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After all that, I immediately contradict myself with what is essentially a collection of disco edits. Through the Green is more than that, of course: it’s a cohesive collection of very good disco edits. The mildly mysterious duo of Tiger & Woods (Larry Tiger and David Woods . . . riiiiight) has tapped into some dark sample-and-hold magic, using crude tools to fashion micro-samples into complex narrative. Plus, hey, you can dance to it.

Sepalcure: Sepalcure

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Here lies the debut full-length from Praveen Sharma and Travis Stewart, both of whom achieved considerable success as solo artists (Braille and Machinedrum, respectively). As names go, Sepalcure fits the bill better than most: frenetic percussion and befuzzed synths plumb the dank catacombs of bass music (think Burial), while warped, ethereal vocals lend each track an almost hymnal quality. The end result is atmospheric as all get-out, a transcendent dubby treat for the ears.

Egyptrixx: Bible Eyes

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The dissonant notes and nascent wobbles of “Start from the Beginning” serve as caveat: don’t get too comfortable. Even the most radio-friendly track (“Crysalis Records”) does not conform to expectation, gyrating out of kilter and denying climax. Other songs (“Rooks Theme”) are downright antisocial. Dubstep, UK Funky, and their myriad genre brethren excel at this dysfunctional dynamic, and the Night Slugs crew (Egyptrixx among them) consistently pull it off with subdued aplomb.

Rimer London: Rimer London

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For an album this funky, and with such a sense of humor (the opening track is 39 seconds of text-to-speech software attempting to pronounce “Rimer”), Rimer London’s self-titled LP sure explores some dark places. Amid the filtered squawks of analog synths, the thematic content is decidedly bleak. Violent imagery abounds (“Love Dagger,” “Put Your Gun Away,” “Aim At My Body”), and yet each of those songs would fit right in at your next pool party. This is the audio equivalent of a Xanax overdose.

James Blake: James Blake

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James Blake stole my heart with “CMYK,” and I worry that his subsequent efforts will never live up to that first impression. There are wonderful moments here, not the least of which is the paternal love letter / cinephile in-joke “The Wilhelm Scream,” but none of them approach that initial ecstasy. What remains is a competent, quiet, introspective tome, which has somehow garnered the world’s attention. I’m happy for him, but it’s bittersweet.

Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs : Prehistory I/II

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Technically the sum of two EPs released this year, though it hardly matters in the face of such funky aural adhesive. “Waulking Song” alone guarantees a top ten spot (I dare you to resist its rhythmic charms), but the entirety of Prehistory carries that same restless, infectious energy. Press play and set phasers to “shuffle.”

SBTRKT: SBTRKT

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Man, what is with that mask? Is it a too-clever take on post-colonial African identity? A denial of individuality and/or basic humanity (à la Daft Punk)? A shy person’s coping mechanism? A gimmick that stuck? I don’t much care, but I hate that I end up thinking about this rather than the music—which, by the way, is deeply mesmerizing. Whatever ridiculous names we assign to the descendants of 2-step/garage (Post-dubstep? Really?), the music is remarkably adaptable: these songs work at the club, on the way home, and on a bus at 8am the next morning. Evolution is scary.

Siriusmo: Mosaik

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Moritz Friedrich’s studio is a mess. The cover art? A snapshot of his floor. Being a pack rat has its benefits, though, and in this case that amounts to five years of accumulated audio projects (as well as, it would seem, a Casio rifle). Over the course of three months, this raw material was combined, Voltron-like, to form the (understandably kaleidoscopic and scatterbrained) Mosaik. Genres are hopped willy-nilly, and there’s scant connective tissue, but it hardly matters when your head is bobbing this violently.

Nicolas Jaar: Space Is Only Noise

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Nicolas Jaar does not make party music. You cannot bring it to the beach. No one is singing along with him as they cruise the strip and test their subwoofers. The beats are few and far between (as in slow). There are pianos, and strings, and monotonous vocals in foreign tongues. Everything is drenched in a crap-ton of reverb. By the time you’re half-way through “Colomb,” sunlight and oxygen are but faint memories, and you surrender yourself to the ocean currents. At least it’s peaceful down here.

M83: Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming

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A lot of words have been applied to Anthony Gonzalez’s latest opus, most of them synonymous with “epic.” If synth lines were stanzas, he’d be the Milton of shoegaze. Mind you, none of the elements here are particularly new—the protracted crescendos, the primal screaming, the childish spoken-word narratives, the salty-sweet brine of nostalgia—but there is some serious alchemy at work. Hurry Up feels conceptually complete in a way that none of M83’s previous efforts have managed: every listen demands a fresh start; there’s no skipping ahead to favorite tracks. In an era of throwaway digital singles, here is an album. So dust off the turntable and dim the lights, because the night’s young and you’re not going anywhere.

Photo Feature: Not So Silent Night 2011 (Oakland, CA; Dec. 9, 2011)

2011-12-12T23:14:44-05:00

With scheduled headliner, Jane’s Addiction, bowing out the morning of the show, Bay Area natives Green Day stepped in to round out Not So Silent Night 2011’s already impressive lineup. They joined Bush, Florence + the Machine, Mumford & Sons and Young the Giant at Oracle Arena in Oakland. melophobe photographer Patrick Concepcion was on hand to capture the action. Enjoy!

DOWNLOAD: Green Day - Basket Case (MP3)