Showing posts with label Hawkwind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hawkwind. Show all posts

Friday, June 19, 2020

HEAVY TUNES: Records I Listened to the Last Couple Weeks, As Of June 19, 2020

Rough Couple Weeks ... At Least We Have Music

June 8

  1. Hawkwind, Quark, Strangeness and Charm
    (This version had a LOT of mostly pointless and eventually exhausting extras—"Damnation Alley" rules p. hard, tho)
  2. Carole King, Tapestry
    For a record I had never knowingly listened to, I sure knew a lot of these songs!
  3. Neko Case and Her Boyfriends, Furnace Room Lullaby
    There was a time when I loved few things more than this record. This day, it didn't really hold up for me.
  4. Sir Lord Baltimore, Sir Lord Baltimore
    Wow, "Man from Manhattan" rules.
  5. Miles Davis On the Corner
  6. Black Sabbath, Past Lives
    Another past favorite that I didn't love this time around... :(
  7. Slave, The Hardness of the World
    The great Curtis Harris said the following, and that was all I needed to hear
  8. Eddie Hazel, From the Bottom of My Heart
    "Lompoc Boogie" is incredible: wonderful musicianship, incredible melodies, and just fun energy.

June 13: Apparently, we're getting funky (while cooking a bunch of food)

  1. Parliament, Motor Booty Affair
  2. Miles Davis, Bitches Brew
  3. Eddie Hazel, Game, Dames and Guitar Thangs
  4. Band of Gypsys, Band of Gypsys

June 15

  1. Slave, Slave (1977, Cotillion)
  2. Parliament, Funkentelechy vs. the Placebo Syndrome (1977, Casablanca)
  3. Funkadelic, Funkadelic
  4. Miles Davis, In a Silent Way

June 16: Dancin' in the Ruins (?)

  1. The Drop playlist: my dumb streaming service, which will NEVER understand me properly, thought I'd be interested in ... Phoebe Bridgers, Roman Circles, Tangerine Dream and a lot of other stuff I really really liked ... Great job, algorithms. Lousy job being interesting, Fat.
  2. Operators, EP 1
    Still SO good.
  3. Jaye Jayle & Emma Ruth Rundle, The Time Between Us
    Essential.
  4. Wooden Wand, Harem of the Sundrum and the Witness Figg
  5. LCD Soundsystem, LCD Soundsystem
    I saw a podcast called this band "If Zoolander was a band" which suggests strongly somebody either hasn't heard the band or hasn't seen Zoolander (both of which are fine: it's a long life, there's plenty of art we can skip), and it made me want to listen to this. Mostly now I only like the bonus disc, but it's a pretty fun listen whenever.

This was a hellacious work day. The only time I had for music is after I got back to my place, exhausted and scraped clean, needing to cook some food and pass out. I spent quite a while making vegan "hot wings" out of cauliflower and more than half a cup of Sriracha, and it was messy, lengthy, and pretty great. Comfort music helped a lot.

June 17: Retrenching, Searching for Silence

  1. Hawkwind, Hall of the Mountain Grill
  2. Miles Davis, On the Corner
  3. Funkadelic, Cosmic Slop
  4. Starcastle, Starcastle
    Pretty much all I listened to last year was this bizarre Yes knockoff with heavy REO Speedwagon dad-radio vibes. I've been trying hard to listen to Not The Same Thing Over and Over Again, but today ... I was tired, you know?
  5. Vektor, Black Future
    Been trying to keep things mellow, but sometimes one does need to get more intense and aggressive.
  6. Deltron 3030, Event II
    Wow, the beats on this really did it for me! I like this a lot better than the first record, which I like(d) a lot.

Experimenting with funk and things with as few words as possible has been really helpful and heartening, even if I should probably just be listening to Tangerine Dream and munching edibles all day.

June 18: A Certain Craving for Novelty

  1. Mekons, Fear & Whiskey
    People like this band? Seems cool for them.
  2. MF Doom, ...Mm Food
    What if MF Doom but beats?
  3. Vektor, Outer Isolation
  4. Killer Mike, R.A.P. Music
  5. Deltron 3030, Deltron 3030
    Not sure why, but Deltron is what I really wanted to hear all week.
  6. David Bowie, Diamond Dogs
  7. Aesop Rock, Bazooka Tooth
  8. Alice Cooper, Billion Dollar Babies
    My buddy calls Alice Cooper "ugly David Bowie", and that fits, and this record is, while not without spots I desperately wish to skip every time, incredible. Nobody comes up with bigger melodies than in "Hello Hooray" or "Elected".
  9. Obsequiae, The Palms of Sorrowed Kings
    Another record I basically listened to all of last year to the exclusion of anything else. I really love this record.

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Open Up and See (a review of THIS MOTHER FOREVER, a single by Fucked Up)

Fucked Up has since spring of 2010 figured to me as something like COMPLETELY UNSTOPPABLE FORCE OF MUSICAL GREATNESS. I started with a copy of Epics in Minutes that didn't work for me, much, but Hidden World and Chemistry of Common Life thrilled me: loud pounding rock with big hooks, mysterious lyrics that touch on all my favorite themes, a cool visual identity with a sigil symbolizing the band, consistent album covers, weird names for the band members—basically, Fucked Up was a Blue Őyster Cult for people who wanted easier music and a more complicated relationship with the spectacle. Naturally, I was completely invited and fulfilled by all this: the powerful music and the thoughtful packaging.

When David Comes to Life came out, it brought all of the above, plus songs I knew instantly, production that buckled my knees, and that strange magic of chords / melody that puts tears in my eyes involuntarily. (See also: Dead Moon (frequently); Andrew Cashen / Sabrina Ellis (occasionally); a few others (extremely rarely).) It was, and is, one of the great rock records. The band had perfected its moves: speed, shouting, fast repetition.

Then, they got weird. They'd been doing long-song EP releases, based on the Chinese Zodiac (no, really), in which they moved away from their mastery of short/simple rock songs with punk vocals, and began experimenting with overwhelming with scale, not just volume. I started with Year of the Pig, an 18-minute tune with essentially one part, played loud, played soft, played over and over again. The sheer size of the song gave the band a new kind of intensity, ebbing and flowing, not just hitting it and quitting it, and the rhythm almost ... swung. To put it a slightly different way, Fucked Up here stopped being BŐC and started being Hawkwind. And it was very, very good.

They were adding new tricks: length, droning, quietness, new instrumentation, playing slow. Year of the Hare consolidated those new tricks, at least on the B-side, "California Cold"; on the A-side, they took a long, coherent song and gave it the William Burroughs random-cut-up-and-shuffle-and-reassemble treatment, for no reason I have been able to understand. When I can piece together the actual song behind this treatment, it appears to be about as good as Pig.

Then, they ran out of songs: Glass Boys just never clicked with me. When it's playing, it seems fine, and I have convinced myself half a dozen times that the songs were finally sticking in my head, but it never lasts. Then, they ran out of tricks: This Mother Forever is the same thing as Hare, a good/great song (more of the same) occluded by production / presentation moves like "let's not start the song for the first minute-fifteen of its fifteen-minute runtime" and "let's fade it out about 45 seconds before it actually ends". That said, the noodly guitar / feedback / soundscape that opens the song is atmospheric and pleasant; the louder groovy (again) psychedelic part that goes another 30 seconds is a lot of fun; and when the vocals kick in at around 5:45 ...

The band clearly needs the listener to take seriously its attempts at inversion and appropriation, trying to make you think about gender roles and the standard voice heard in a song.

I am the feather
and you are the breeze
I am the lock
and you are the keys
The end of the rope
with all ties severed
you are my hope
this mother forever
I am the dung
and you are the beetle
I am the thread
you are the needle
...

But there's two problems. First, Fucked Up appears to have written the same lyrics about a half-dozen times, so these lines feel pretty familiar. Second, this time around, the alchemical themes and revolutionary fervor just completely fall flat, due mostly to a chanted vocal that keeps resolving into the exact cadence of the nursery rhyme that runs

Here is the church
Here is the steeple
Open it up
And see all the people

In any case, it's new Fucked Up, and I'd rather have new Fucked Up than not have Fucked Up. I've listened to it a dozen times, and I'll listen to it dozens more. I hope their thematic repetitiveness eases up in the way their musical repetitiveness has, and I hope their musical boredom moves past the cut-up technique soon. Until then, I'll keep listening to this.

There's a B-side: it's 30 minutes long, and "features Nunavut singer Tanya Tagaq", and it mostly taught me I don't like throat singing, so I haven't played it after the first run-through.

Sunday, January 04, 2015

Fat's best HEAVY TUNES of 2014

0. TL;DR List + Links Only

I. Meandering Introductionalizing

Looking back at the year in the light of the full list, I realize that 2014 was a musical year of...a bit of a rut, honestly. "Retrenchment" is probably the nicest word to use, but what I spent my year listening to was pretty much loud guitars and male voices and that was it.

I will have to make a point of greater variety next year.

II. The Long Version, the Real Relationships

My 2014 began much as 2013 ended—with Shooting Guns' rolling-truck rumblings, loud, heavy, and moving hard, if not fast. Almost all of what I liked best this year was what the great Erik Highter called "low-altitude space rock", the kind of music that remembers that rocket ships are just hot rods in another dimension. Which brings us to:

Solar Halos
Probably 2014's most common "just listened to this, I'll just listen to it again right now" experience. The four-song demo was outstanding, the six-song record is basically perfect, and I listened to both again and again and again. No record I listened to this year was sequenced as well as Solar Halos—the build to the final song, "Resonance", essentially eight minutes of continual pummeling explosions, or a strong crashing surf pulling you under, was unmatched and made for enormously satisfying listening.

Check out their twitter: the band was really good in January about aggregating all their reviews—numerous and rapturous—but the album now seems forgotten here at the end of the year. Which is bullshit: by a wide margin one of the best records of the year. Buy it and introduce yourself to them. Every song is great and the album as a whole is even better.

Earthless
My pal Abe the Professor recommended these guys a few times before it sunk in—but finally they popped up enough on one of my Pandora stations for me to fall completely in love with them. Very good swaggering rhythms around which spectacular guitar solos solo and solo and solo—these are side-long songs mostly with solos the entire time. Much of the year's best getting-work-done music. I like Sonic Prayer best, but Rhythms from a Cosmic Sky is, as Pete Beatty pointed out to me, also super.

Holy Mount
A late-in-the-year discovery (again from the rad-as-hell Erik Higher) this Canadian hard psych outfit scratched the hell out of my Hawkwind itch, with John Carpenter synths and long guitar odysseys that never got boring. Absolutely terrific. I listened to everything they had on Bandcamp and picked Alpic, but recent days' listenings have suggested strongly that the newer Vol might be one of 2014's finest and loveliest releases. I'll investigate further and report back.

Hawkwind!
Why so much Hawkwind? Well, three reasons. First, I've been there before. Second, they're great. Third, I saw them (or anyway a version of them) this summer with my dude Abe, and it was as good a show as I've ever seen. Old dudes trying, and succeeding, to blow the roof off the venue so that the levitating crowd can transcend. Band of my year, in that what they did was what I spent the year looking and listening for.

Jesu
Speaking of transcending, I finally discovered Jesu this year. (Thanks to David Raposa!) Very emo metallic shoegaze, or something, this Godflesh spinoff is exceptionally sensitive and powerful music for lone bodies trying for anything more. "We All Falter" is the entire album conveniently distilled into one longish track, a trek encompassing what I once saw called "tragedy ecstasy doom and so on" but with crushing guitars and beautiful textures that envelop without smothering. Sounds so loud, even when you play it quiet, that it always verges on the sublime. Always makes me a little weepy, to be honest.

MC5
This year I finally picked up a copy of Back in the USA, which is the worst-produced important album ever: you can barely hear the (nearly perfect) songs through the clock-radio-speaker production values. Basically all you can hear on this record is just snare drums, vocals, and trebly guitars, but that works well when the vocals are as piercingly wonderful as Robin Tyner's "I'm sooooooory, I'm soooooooooooooory" in "human being lawnmower". This record is hard to listen to, but easy to love. And I do love it: it's the (perfect) pop exponent of a normally noisy band's attempts to make everything okay through purely sonic means. Or, as Greil Marcus said, to:
create a young community of spirit, affection, excitement, and self-consciousness
Fuckin' A, brothers.

Comes legitimately close to working, too.

Bongripper
But you can't always be trying to create a community of spirit, affection, excitement, and self-consciousness. Sometimes you just want to get down into the king-hell bummerism that pervades: it is, after all, the 70s. That's where Bongripper comes in. Bongripper's barely relieved grim / grind / semi-sleaze works more thoroughly for me than I'm stoked about, on records like Satan Worshipping Doom, Hippie Killer, and Hate Ashbury. But the puns do suggest a tiny glimmer of humor, which lets in a little light, as do the song titles, as on Miserable, where they run "Endless", "Descent" and "Into Ruin". But nothing I've heard matches their 80-minute single-song "great barrier reefer", which matches its drug-humor title with occasional grunge chords that lighten up the proceedings a bit and keep things from just being one detuned sludge chord for an hour or so. Not that there's anything wrong with one detuned sludge chord for an hour or so: if you'd prefer that vibe, I can definitely vouch for Miserable, and it's not at all unlikely that I'll buy everything else on their Bandcamp this year.

Parliament
Oh, man, Mothership Connection. This record is so god damned good. Irrepressible. I listened to its bubbling, throbbing humanity dozens of times this year, but only ever in one circumstance: bummed the fuck out, exhausted, maybe hungover, and at my desk at work. And, every single time, it helped, at least a little. It's not hard to feel better when you're hearing unstoppable funk grooves under odes to interstellar escape. There's a lesson in there somewhere, I bet.

Captain Beyond
My pal Ian turned me onto the band, and this song-cycle album was one of the year's most versatile. From bike rides to writing to trying to crash, this one spun under it all. It was a foursquare reminder that, even sodden and miserable under an overwhelming onslaught of bummer vibes, there's still good times to be had, experiments to be made, and boundary lines to ignore the fuck out of. Whether that reminder makes you scream HANDS UP DON'T SHOOT or scatter parts of a song across an entire album side, it's a good lesson. And this is a good record!

I'm just sad that the flaccid mopes at 33 1/3 turned down his book pitch: I'd love to read what he had to say about the roiling "Raging River of Fear" and "Frozen Over", where you can hear half of the next 40 (!) years of heavy metal, or his can-actually-play-his-fucking-instrument insights into the proto-technical "Dancing Madly Backwards (on a Sea of Air") and the bullet-spraying breakdown towards the end of "I Can't Feel Nothin' (Part 1)"—to say nothing of how much I'd like to hear him come up with an explanation for the relationship between song parts, lyrics, and titles here. Why does the phrase "dancing madly backwards" appear in "Myopic Void" but not in "Dancing Madly Backwards", one wonders. Where exactly is the divide between "I Can't Feel Nothin'" and "As the Moon Speaks"? Why are there two listed two-part songs when other songs seem to share as much or more while being listed as distinct? No matter, probably: just slurp down another sugar cube and turn the fucker up and lie down and close your eyes, a person, on this planet, loved. When "Armworth" turns into "Myopic Void", going from post-Berry choked guitar chirps under pre-Priest dual lead melodies straight (in) to space, all reverb and "aaaaaaaaaah"s you smile, and you think about possibility, and you smile more. And the spoken-word pieces in "As the Moon Speaks (To the Waves of the Sea)" will work for me forever. Even if I won't listen to it in public, so nobody will catch me grooving on what could very easily be mistaken for the second-best Jethro Tull jams ever. (Note: if you ever liked that one Beta Band song in High Fidelity—I did—, you will 100% dig "Myopic Void", as it's a straight rip job.)

Side two is definitely just one long multi-part song. Fuck the haters: I know I'm right.

Dead Moon
The positive side of my year's familiarity/retrenchment is that I spent so much of my time with lifers. No lifers are purer, more committed and inspiring, or better than Fred and Toody Cole, and no band is better than Dead Moon and no songs are better than their songs.

If you can listen to "in the waiting" or "I won't be the one" and not want somebody to sing you a song that loving, or if you can listen to "diamonds in the rough" or "running out of time" and not find your entire life, hope and age and weakness and doom and resistance in there, then you can just get the fuck away from me. Probably the best American band ever.

Bad Daddies
Speaking of couples, and of lifers. One of the most important things I learned this year was that I could learn a lot from some vegan homeowners who started their band as a hobby. Because not only did Bad Daddies have a hell of a lot of interesting—even wise—things to say when I interviewed them for Negative Fun Records, they put out a couple of the year's undisputed best songs: "You Ain't Right", their Negative Fun Singles Club release will, I think, have a long life on comps, and in the bedrooms of miserable rebels: it's one of those evergreen punk songs that fits into you the first time you hear it like you've always known it but satisfies you like you've only just now stopped being incomplete. (The song is love, in other words.)

Their other big release this year, a split with Hard Left, shows a band moving—fast! "War" is a traditional Bad Daddies song: 22 seconds long, with noisy, dissonant guitar blankets over a wrestling match backbeat, Camylle's unmatched scratchy scream, and a feedback outro. It's a great song. "Festering Brine" stacks huge guitar hooks and a classic Matt solo with some of the band's most dynamic loud/soft—or maybe loud/slightly-less-loud—changes yet, and it's also a great song. And "We Never Will" is a lost New Wave hit, with Camylle's keening, poppy vocals carrying an unforgettable melody and Matt's guitar mostly cleaned up but occasionally splattering noise-magma all over the song structure: it's an absolutely thrilling song by anybody. In the context of this band's established louder/faster/shorter/noisier aesthetic, it's revolutionary. They're extending and deepening their approach farther and faster than seems possible. (The Captain Beefheart effect: there's so much noise, and it's so well-chosen and -inflicted, that everything fits.)

The core of the band is the power of no: the characteristic Bad Daddies song lyric is a negation (I don't, you ain't right, we never will). But the melodies, whether in Camylle's torn vocals or Matt's surging spatters of guitar, build something else up against that negation. The songs aren't an opposition, but a knot, made of threads of passion, negativity, beauty, the whole thing. These may seem like big claims for barely-three-minute snot-punk screeds—unless you've heard the songs, anyway.

What 2014 requires you to believe, because it's self-evidently true, is that a late-starting band of suburban teachers can make some of the year's most powerful punk records, can make vital, necessary art. That alone makes it a better year than a lot of us thought it was.

Shellac
More lifers! New Shellac! Finally I got authentic fucking information about the song titles of the songs I heard like three years ago. This record is inconsistent, but great, just like Shellac themselves, and the title song is perfect and contains one of the year's most bizarrely saddening lyrics:
some of us are tired
of where we are
in this cul-de-sac
fuck that, let's go, we can always eat along the way

Screaming Females
This New Jersey trio was by far my year's most breathtaking discovery. Guitarist / frontwoman Marissa Paternoster is probably the best guitar player on the planet—or at least the most consistently thrilling. Sylvia Juncosa's lead-like rhythm playing, Bill Carter's lunatic spasms, J. Mascis' throat-closing, heart-gripping solos. The songs are wonderful, and even the lyrics hold up. I got hooked by "leave it all up to me" off of the live record, and spent most of the year having my blood well and truly whipped by the series of tunes from "crow's nest" to "doom 84". Listen to everything Screaming Females does. Buy everything they put out. Buy them fizzy water and fruit when they come to your town and let them crash at your pad.

Mark Lanegan
I started the year listening a lot to the very-stripped-down and incredibly rad Black Pudding LP. Mostly just Lanegan's vocals with English fingerstyle acoustic guitar, this record really did it for me, especially late at night when the rains wouldn't come and the mezcaleros' work was done.

Black Pudding was particularly pleasing at the time as against the one before that, Blues Funeral, which I'd picked up in the summer of 2012. That year, I found Blues Funeral alienating and half-assed: the electronic drums seemed to be playing boring and meaningless beats, and the cold synth textures were jarring and out of place around Lanegan's unrelentingly organic vocals, lyrics, and worldview—at least that's how it felt when I bought the record. Even in February, when I made my pal a Lanegan primer, I was still even calling Blues Funeral "the only one I don't like". But after I saw his intense and excellent November set, I went back to revisit that record in the light of what I'd seen and heard.

Originally I had heard the new Phantom Radio and especially its accompanying preorder EP No Bells on Sunday as huge leaps forward for Lanegan's interest in integrating electronics. The ticking noises like devices breaking in "dry iced" worked perfectly under Lanegan's understated "I'm sorry" refrain, and the quiet little-kid-picks-out-a-melody under synth washes of "no bells on Sunday" worked like good New Order with a better singer. And my introduction to the whole thing, "sad lover", couldn't've been better fit for me: a Thin White Rope lyric over (what Mojo tells me is called) a Krautrock-style motorik beat? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. And they did sign me up, and took my credit card number, and sent me some records. It was awesome.

Later, I revisited Blues Funeral after spending significant time with No Bells on Sunday and a little time with Phantom Radio. That time around, I found the execution great, the songs wonderful and varied, and the production immediate and engaging. I don't know what my fucking problem was: Blues Funeral, Phantom Radio and No Bells on Sunday are all great. So is Black Pudding. Lanegan rules okay.

Bonus self-promotional material: I got to interview Lanegan and he was a hell of a nice guy. Super-fun to talk to about basketball.

Charles Mingus
Every year, I make an attempt at the beginning of the year to learn about jazz. This year, I was lucky, and what I ended up with was Charles Mingus' epochal Pithecanthropus Erectus and some fantastic emails explaining it and other jazz from the great J. D. Hatings.

I didn't get much farther than this record this year, but this was one of 2014's's most revelatory and consistent pieces of work: heavy without being loud, consistent without being monotonous, and exciting without being rock. With the new year coming, I look forward to another attempt to learn about the genre.

Courtney Barnett
As 2014 slumped toward its grave, I happened to hear the song "avant gardener" on KALX and fell instantly under its spell. Apparently it's already well exposed: it's been on TV and whatnot, Pitchfork was all over it a couple years ago, etc. But it was new to me and I found it inspiring, heartening, and refreshing beyond belief, probably partly because it's so good, and partly because my year had had so much bassy guitar and howling men. After so much oppressive weight, it did me great good to hear uptempo if not upbeat bouncing songs with major lyrical variation and cool, rising melodies bubbling everywhere. Within an hour of hearing the song on the radio, I'd listened to a couple of her EPs and bought "how to carve a carrot into a rose", and it's basically been on repeat ever since. Particular favorites include "don't apply compression gently" and "history eraser". This is great shit. I really like the weird curls of Australian accent and the conversational, colloquial, witty lyrics that somehow always still fit the tune and the music. It's kind of like a likeable, charismatic, competent Craig Finn, but with a better backing band and a lot more to say.

No Other
Best song-about-work of the year, "Option C". Angry and bitterly observed, this is a song for anybody who ever had to punch a clock and keep themselves from punching a boss.

III. The Quickies

Russian Circles
Took me a while, but @jefcanuk finally wore me down and convinced me that these guys had (a lot of) (great) moments. It continually catches me off-guard that this drony, amiable outfit shares a nervous system with previous HEAVY TUNE fave-purveyors Botch. Anyway, this is instrumental metal with lots of sprinkly emo/chimey-sparkle parts, and it's extremely my shit, especially if Red Sparowes are going to continue to not exist.

Russian Circles have a ton of records. I ended up with Memorial, which is pretty good, but which passes by mostly forgettably for long stretches, until the dependably pretty/sad "Ethel" towards the end.

Run the Jewels
This one didn't do it for me quite like last year's did: the beats were slower, for one, and I didn't hear quite as many completely great long lines like El-P's "With the pull of a pin a grenade / Get a crowd to they feet and a soul to its options / I'm a fool for the win I been made" and it keeps going like that for a while. Also this record sounded like shit through my el cheapo earbuds, which is, sadly, one of my primary listening vectors. All that negativity nuance aside, the good songs here are superb, and no lyrics meant more to me in this season of Ferguson than Killer Mike's:
Where my thuggers and my cripples and my blooders and my brothers?
When you niggas gon' unite and kill the police, mothafuckas?
And take over a jail, give them COs hell
The burnin' of the sulfur, goddamn I love the smell
Now get to pillow torchin', where the fuck the warden?
And when you find him, we don't kill him, we just waterboard him
We killin' them for freedom cause they tortured us for boredom
And even if some good ones die, fuck it, the Lord'll sort 'em

El-P
In the aftermath of Abe selling me on Run the Jewels, he managed to hook me up with El-P's previous solo album, which spent a solid month on repeat in my ears. I loved almost all of it, but I couldn't possibly love anything more than the sad Metroid noises that closed the album. If I'd known one record could have both samples from Metroid and the line "fuck your droid noise, void boys / 'nnoyed ploy / oi oi! / I'll fuckin kick the shit outcha groin, boy / oy vey!" I would have bought this on release day.

Big Business
Kind of the flipside of the Parliament record, I turned to this one mostly when I was down and wanted to stay there: the songs on this record didn't get into me like so many of the earlier ones did, but "lonely Lyle" nailed me instantly, smiling-sad barbs that won't come out without ruining what they hit. A melancholy slow burn, perfect for a decade in full retreat. This record had plenty of other highlights, too, even if it wasn't a year-defining release like Here Come the Waterworks or Mind the Drift. "Chump Chance" had the year's most urgent vocal melody, and "Doomsday, Today!" was one of 2014's best pummelings. It's good shit: you should buy it.

The Men
It's been all downhill for these guys since 2011, but I did spent easily three weeks listening to this on heavy repeat. Odd that I can't now conjure up a note of it to memory. I suspect the problem is that they were, like the historians they are, trying to ape the MC5's triumph-over-bad-production move—because this is one incredibly badly produced album, with everything sounding like it was recorded in different circumstances—but the songs weren't world-defining. The best example is "Another Night" which was audibly shooting for Early Bruce Springsteen and instead ended up at Second-Tier Eddie Money, totally exhausted on the album. But the band did work these tunes beautifully when I saw them last: one of the year's best dance parties by a mile. So I'm chalking this up to a great band trying to pull off a degree-of-difficulty move and failing, slightly, and I'm looking forward to the next record and I'm really looking forward to the next time they come to town. Let's go see 'em!

IV. Past Loads of Fat's HEAVY TUNES OF THE YEAR

  1. 2013
  2. 2012
  3. 2011

V. Disclaimers

Relationship Disclaimers

I get paid to write catalog copy and similar stuff for Negative Fun Records, and I probably wouldn't've heard any Negative Fun bands unless I did so: that said, I paid for every note of Bad Daddies I heard this year, including a couple of shows I saw, and the dough I made writing about them had nothing to do with the esteem I hold them, and their music, in. Same goes for No Other! Except I would inevitably have heard them through the great Paul Bruno's great Unblinking Ear podcast, and on his new label's indispensable Serious Rockers mixtape.

Financial Disclaimers

I bought everything on this list, with the exception of the El-P record, which Abe gave me.

Wednesday, January 02, 2013

Fat's best HEAVY TUNES of 2012

"An Echo From the Hosts That Profess Infinitum", Shabazz Palaces, Black Up
I spent a lot of the year writing and riding bikes to this record. This song always made me stop to pay attention to its amazing haze-sway backing track: swirling vocals, some intensely melodic percussion, and great beats. My girlfriend says I'm too hard on Sasha Frere-Jones, so let me give credit: it was him who turned me on to this excellent record. Thanks, chief.

"Australasia", Pelican, Australasia
Pelican has meant a lot to me for a long time, and they were, bizarrely, essentially the only band I'd ever really bootlegged. When I heard that Hydra Head was going the way of all flesh, I knew that it was in part my fault, so I took my credit card to the liquor store to the Internet and attempted to atone for my sins by spending quite a bit of money. This song is Pelican at their best: no band not named Iron Maiden gets more mileage out of Sweet Victor Parts (TM Al Burian); no band not named Hawkwind does more with dreamy drone parts.

"Hey Jane", Spiritualized, Sweet Heart Sweet Light
Probably the least inspired album I've bought—even Dirty Work had cocaine and Keef/Mick's desire to punch each other—but this was one song I liked whenever it came on. Spiritualized is evidently completely out of ideas, but this one song they didn't phone in, and not-phoned-in Spiritualized is something I can't not like.

"kicking", "Fat Waves", Torche, Meanderthal
I saw Torche with Big Business, and at the time, their high-gloss candy metal (alternating with deep sludge) left me cold. But "kicking" has better hooks than any guitar song since 1984, and "Fat Waves" isn't far behind. I reached for this record more times than almost any other—it's beyond perfect for getting shit done around the house—despite getting it very late in the year.

"ecce homo", Titus Andronicus, Local Business
It's all downhill after this opener, but this was my song of the year, and it wasn't a particularly close race. The rest of the album is a good Clash record, more Give 'Em Enough Rope's hit-what-you-aim-for than, say, Combat Rock's peaks and valleys or London Calling's thrilling sprawl and reach, but this one song is the kind of epic the Clash never managed, an unhurried lope across the band's previous (monumental) achievements and a sweeping gesture forward. The next album will be a California album, it will be called Manifest Destiny, and it will be epoch-defining. Book it.

"Year of the Pig", Fucked Up, Year of the Pig ep
Took me a while to warm up to this tune, but no song was better for running or for riding my bike across town. Originally, I thought "man, the drummer does the same thing for like 18 minutes, meh" but after I made it through the hypnotic drone sections a couple times and let the record overwhelm me somatically, I was more like "MAN, THE DRUMMER DOES THE SAME THING FOR LIKE 18 MINUTES, AWESOME!". It's a song that requires some effort: it's only good if you keep your attention-payer on. It's a song that rewards that effort hugely.

"In Every Dream Home a Heartache", Roxy Music, Viva!
Could really have been any song off of this record, 2012's token album that made my girlfriend ask "what the fuck is this shit" during one of the coked-up metal-disco moments with extra-theatrical vocal vibrato. But something about Roxy Music really works for me a lot of the time (SPOILER: it is Phil Manzanera) and Viva! was my default "time to go to bed, but I don't want anything fucking mellow on because that shit's for sell-out olds" record.

"tracking the dog", Screaming Blue Messiahs, Peel Sessions

"Holiday Head", Screaming Blue Messiahs, Gun-Shy

"Destroyer", Screaming Blue Messiahs, Live at the BBC
I've loved this band pretty much consistently from the time Totally Religious came out. Back then, I loved that album's weirdo echo-chamber drum sound and 10-million-stacked-guitar-noises production, really liked half of the previous record Bikini Red's weirdo everything-in-an-echo-chamber-one-loud-ass-guitar-track sound, and didn't see a whole lot in Gun-Shy's too-much-drum, zero-guitar mix. Trouser Press rated those in reverse order, and that was the only interaction I've ever had with another human about the band Screaming Blue Messiahs. All I know now is that I like all three, and probably agree now that I am old and tired that Gun-Shy is their best, though if they'd ever recorded a live-to-tape album like the Peel Session I bought from Green Noise Records in Portland all those years ago, that would be one of my favorite records of all time. Their BBC Live record is close, but not quite as great. But everything they did makes me exceptionally happy, and I can make it through terrible 80s production values if I have to...

"dethink to survive", mclusky, mclusky Does Dallas
I heard about mclusky via CopyRanter and I owe Mark Duffy a large bottle of brown liquor for the reference. It immediately became a massive favorite of the Clear the Crease crew. Smart and savage: what's not to like? Well, they did break up. So there won't be any more HEAVY TUNES from mclusky. Funnily enough, though, three (!) years ago, my friend Abe tried to sell me on Future of the Left, the band that formed from mclusky's ashes, and I didn't get it; until last night. 2013's HEAVY TUNES of the year will include Future of the Left's "Arming Eritrea" and "Land of My Formers" plus probably around a half a dozen others. Extra bonus: Falco is a really good writer, not just a really good songwriter. Try his tour diary, excellent hit piece on a shit song, and follow his swell twitter. And, for the love of fuck, spend some money on this band's brilliant music and spare them "the hollow anger of the ignored and jealous".

"hurry on sundown", Hawkwind, Some Comp a Friend of a Friend Made
I've always loved this song, and spent a couple years mostly listening to the excellent Oregon band Nudity's version, but this year was all about listening to the Hawkwind version multiple times in a row, singing along every single time.

"man the ramparts", Botch, We Are the Romans
Because sometimes you can't live your best life without spiky, off-kilter metallic hardcore. Wish it hadn't taken me 10 years to catch up to this record.

"oscillation", The Men, Open Your Heart
Untouchably great drone-groove, somewhere in between "hurry on sundown" and "year of the pig", this record pleased me every time I put it on. Less intense and transcendent than Leave Home, Open Your Heart was more varied—and maybe more easy to forget about. But the band's a keeper, and so's this record, and this song will be a staple for a long, long time.

"the nights of wine and roses", Japandroids, Celebration Rock
2012: year of Japandroids. Despite its obvious greatness, I didn't reach for this album all that often. But live, no songs meant more to me than this band's in 2012. I picked this tune pretty much at random: some nights I loved it the most, some nights I loved "younger us" the most, some nights "restless nights turn to restless years" was the lyric that hurt the most... Of course the real best song off the record is "the house that heaven built", the "anything, anything" of 2012, but like "anything, anything", I can't actually listen to the song all that often (because I don't like crying).

"rana", Pitchfork, Eucalyptus
Too much of this record sounds like hyper-caffinated early R.E.M., but (a) that's not a bad thing by any stretch and (b) some of the record sounds like this, which is as good as indie rock ever got.

It also bears mentioning that the releases from Negative Fun dominated the last couple months of my listening. Great stuff. Full disclosure: I got these records for free and was paid to write about them, but I would have been listening to them and loving them regardless. You will be hearing a lot from She Rides, Dripping Slits, and Red Hex in 2013—and so will I!