Homage to Bottle Rocketonia

I recorded another hit song. I also made a video for it. Here it is:

Living in the past pt 2: Aught eight, somebody still loves you

Following up on, at least in the loosest of senses, the most recent Year in Music in Review dictum is this more definitive, less jejune, if equally pointless summary of my favorite albums of the past year. A quadrennial PR farce masquerading as democracy, the continuation of two protracted and highly illegal (and immoral) military campaigns, and the continued degradation of my hockey game - though more accurately described as a continued decrease in the rate of my improvement (negative dx/dt) rather than a comment on the absolute quality of play itself - notwithstanding, these albums did their part to numb the pain of modern life:

10) The Gaslight Anthem / The '59 Sound - When did straight ahead guitar-driven rock without pretense, but with an implicit (and certainly not explicit) class consciousness become so rare, so appreciated (from under-appreciation) in the way that warm apple pie under cold vanilla ice cream after a long drive has become? These ne'er heard of 'fore boys deliver the goods honestly and incorruptibly, with a workmanlike devotion to craft and care that should make them the envy of every gaggle of lads in the garage or the van. Unlike another band sharing a home state - what I like to call the worst that achieved statehood and never tried to secede from the Union at one time - a band that'll remain nameless, but let's just say it rhymes with Fight-us And-stomp-on-us, a band that everything from their obscure Shakespearean titular appellation to the belabored vocal bellowing and blatant Connor Oberst ripping off to the cliched indie-rock pantomimes and rantings and ravings sans substance mind you, or evocation or meaning, ultimately betray any feeling, confident or otherwise, of authenticity... unlike this celebrated retinue of the damned, another "Joisey" band, The Gaslight Anthem, in the parlance of times no more than a handful of years outdated - though who can be sure what with pop culture idioms viz. legitimate and ironic usage changing hands so quickly these days - "keep it real."

9) High Places / 03/07-09/07 - A woman sings beautifully, if in an unassured way that makes it all the more compelling, over a dude fiddling with knobs and mixers and samplers and various electronic scenaria creating clicks and thuds. Very pretty yet still in a head nodding way.

8) Girl Talk / Feed the Animals - Probably the most controversial and polarizing selection here. If you're a fan of English-language popular music from the 1960's on, I'm not sure how you can honestly, or at least definitionally, not like this music. Apropos to the living in the past meme, those first few bars of recognizing an old song once loved e.g. the Temple of the Dog intro halfway into the first track is just cash money smiles and tingly feelings all around. The dude's song selection is varied over genre and era, including canonical hooks and subtler tracks, and his mash-up skills are, I think inarguably, beyond reproach. I imagine the people that don't like this stuff to be joyless automaton-like haters of the human spirit. Who wants to cop to that?

7) The Dodos / Visiter - Psych-folk-rock-type stuff from SF. I saw these guys by myself out on top of the East River (to all those people I called offering my free extra ticket, you suck), and they didn't play any of my favorite songs.

6) Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds / Dig Lazarus, Dig!!! - This was the first Bad Seeds' album to come out since I became a big Nick Cave fan. I had long been vaguely aware of homeboy and knew he was kinda sweet, but it wasn't until being hungover beyond belief, I'm talking about inambulatory and face-down on the couch, blasting And No More Shall We Part, Cave's redemptive album re straightening out and finding God, that I understood the genius of Mr. Nick Cave and quickly thereafter discovered his catalog and anticipated eagerly this work. It doesn't disappoint. Cave's superb if not unmatched storytelling is on display, and The Seeds do their thing, including the guy who makes the weird sounds that sound like a cross between an electric guitar and a distorted fiddle, but which are certainly neither. This album confidently rocks, a touch no doubt owing to the recent Grinderman effort.

5) Azeda Booth / In Flesh Tones - This is undoubtedly the album here least likely to be listened to by the fellow Pfork-ites et al amongst us. And that's a shame because it's phenomenally brilliant, with reference points that don't quite do it justice but I'd begrudgingly have to include Radiohead as in terms of some squirk/sqeal-type beats, Porishead with the female lead over some weird shit musically speaking backing it (though I guess there are no women in the band), and maybe even the Cocteau Twins in terms of overall sexiness and loungy feel. Scary, enticing, soothing, pretty, intense, Albertan: they do it all with seemingly minimal effort and zero subterfuge. I fucked up the description of this record, more due to, I'd like to think, the complexity of the work and not the deficiency of my skills. Either way, it's a beauty.

4) M83 / Saturdays = Youth - Once upon a time long ago, a strapping young buck named Tears for Fears, Songs From the Big Chair era, laid down a comely lass, My Bloody Valentine, making an honest woman of her and siring a beauty of a girl (with a body that was kind of unreal, especially for those times). Said girl went through her life unaffected and untamed and unloved, that is, until she met the bastard son of Spandau Ballet, who shared a torrid but only single night of drunken passion with the French dance-pop duo, Air. The honest wench and bastard scion found a love that would last all of times, full of elysian days and ravenous nights. They, thankfully, produced but one heir, M83's Saturdays = Youth. It is for each of us to enjoy.

3) Wolf Parade / At Mount Zoomer - What happened to this album? These guys were media darlings following their last, first?, studio effort, and through their brilliant and seemingly never-ending world tour. And through the numerous and various side-projects, what have you, though with none of them reaching the ability of the main deal. And then this album, liked and noted, but never really having taken off (where you at aforementioned Pfork?) like you may have expected given the pedigree and ultimate if not in your face quality. I don't know, I liked the hell out of this album. It may have lacked the bombast and natural aggressive hookiness of its predecessor, but there are some great songs, great grooves on this one; it's Wolf Parade as its species being: manic drumming, jangly guitars, Dan tossed, and Spencer melodizing to the end. One of my favorite Wolf Parade memories, aside from and way in excess of seeing them at Bowery or at that NYU show or wherever else we saw them (NYC's the same every night out in a way), or covering Father's Son at show from time to time, was the day we, VV sans Joel, had to "soundproof" the studio on N. 4th (N.B. our second unique studio in that space). This consisted of, mainly, mainlining Jim Beam to the dome, duct taping that foam spongy material to the walls, but mainly listening to Apologies to the Queen Mary through the PA, the umpteenth time at this point, and loud, and basically rocking out, with the position of the phallus not having been definitively determined, depsite the known expression. Mount Zoomer, its own material and not a rehash of the past for sure, takes me back to those moments, being young and drunk and having fun, and doing it well, that meant and still means and will mean something to me.

2) Why? / Alopecia - I've written about this album before and there's not much more to say. It's a masterpiece.

1) TV on the Radio / Dear Science - Same deal.

Living in the past pt. 1: "You can swallow all my priiiiiiide"

Three thousand years of beautiful tradition, from Moses to Sandy Koufax -- YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I LIVE IN THE PAST!

One of my favorite things to do when downing pints with friends, or even after a couple glasses of grape juice with the mrs., is to think back to the old days, times spent and laughs shared, lives bent and carafes bared, to remember and relive the seasons, the reasons, for getting together once again. The cynical amongst us might whine and cry about not living in the now, not loving each day as anew, not creating a future even worth reminiscing about. A pox on them, I say.

I've been recently getting back into some of the music I loved from another time (Avail, Propaghandi, Operation Ivy). And yes I dig it for what it is/was, but I can't deny that part of the appeal is traveling back to a particular time and place, bringing back all the feelings and memories of a youth well spent. To wit, I love eating In'N'Out burgers, mostly because of the taste, but part of the joy now is the opportunity to, subconsciously I think (though not anymore), replay beautiful afternoons rolling down Van Nuys Blvd after school without a care in the world, or having been away from LA for a while and going straight from Burbank airport to get all animal styled on the way home. Nostalgia's an important part of real-time experience, past actions and emotions and context inform and affect the present, I say.

I recently met up with some very old and good friends that I rarely see these days. Long story short, we innocently finagled our way into the 3-story penthouse of the heirs to a European money printing operation. And got kicked out of the place for really no reason, basically the victims of intra-family strife, the manifestation of years of whitewashing problems with feigned indifference and real discontent, throwing piles of money as an extinguisher upon fundamental issues. After getting the hell out of that situation, my fellow cohorts expressed feelings ranging from outrage to disgust to embarrassment, what have you, but I just couldn't stop smiling. A contrarian 'til I die, I was so happy, knowing that years from now every time I'd see those guys we'd have something to talk about, laugh about, reminisce and rehash. To me, there was so much utility, fun at the time and allowing for even more fun in the future, in what happened. The future's a beautiful house built upon bricks of the past.

***

This is a little video I've made for the old and somewhat rarely played Via Violenta song, Cleo. I basically started the process to try and learn how to use the software, and totally not because I'm living in the past and painfully missing playing music in between hanging out with friends and cracking jokes while drinking Polish beers and smoking trees. Somewhere along the way, I realized not only was the studio recording not actually finished (I've got to assume that the guitars were merely scratch tracks to get the drums and bass down and that we would go back and re-record them, at least I really hope so), and not only was there no mixing done, but there's probably a reason this one was rarely played. Nevertheless, it still holds a nice place in my heart. And there was no way I was scrapping it and starting anew with a different song. The intro is a nice example of Freddie's antics-inducing laughter, complete with Hari's desperation and my hyena-on-nitrous-like cackling. Joel's a pro as usual (more likely eating a sandwich in between takes). I hope this brings back as good memories for some as it does for me. This goes out to all the bandmates, you too Inder, and the friends that came to the shows and shared drinks and laughs and everything else.

Best Songs of Whatever Year Just Was

Perhaps it’s not revelatory to suggest that the medium can significantly affect the relationship with the underlying content, but it’s at least noteworthy that the mp3 has nearly extinguished my ability to recall or even recognize the names of the songs I like. It’s not so much as the mp3 itself – all compressed with the harrowing cries of audiophiles in the distance, “that high-hat just doesn’t have the clarity!” – as it is the absence of the CD booklet; whereas years before I would eagerly devour those little doggies, special attention paid primarily to the lyrics, secondarily to nuggets of publishing registrations and studio locations, as I listened along, I now find myself surfing aimlessly, or rather continuing to, as the iTunes rolls on, blissfully unaware of what’s being sung or even what these ditties are called (or where they were recorded for christ’s sake). As prelude to the forthcoming Best Albums of the Year post (hopefully sometime before the current year’s summer rolls around), and in celebration of the songs that won’t appear on that list (aka these albums didn’t make the cut), and as an assault against this recent anti-song trend of mine, I present the loyal reader with these, the best songs of last year (from the non-best albums). If a song you like is not on here, well, there’s no accounting for taste, and it may not be too late for you to acquire some. (Yes, it is.)

10. Young Hunting / Everything Shatters! – Start if off right with a potential homer pick as this is old friend and former Via Violenta-talking guy Hari Rex’s latest band, but I think I’ve always been nothing if not unflinchingly fair and objective. Actually, these guys would have been far higher on the list had they not butchered the brilliant and should-be-forceful Engine Driver while recording/mixing their EP. Nonetheless, Everything Shatters! is a nice little song that packs a punch before turning all slow and sad at the end. Homeboy’s voice sounds as good as it ever has here (which is kinda saying something) and these guys all know exactly what they’re doing. You can hear this one and a bunch of other cool songiola’s on their myspace.

9. Dungen / Maleras Finest/Det Tar Tid – Breaking the rules a bit by including this two-song sequence, but the first one is a short, instrumental piece and provides a nice intro for the smooth and relaxed Det Tar Tid, which translates to “It takes time.” Aww. What a return to form for these guys, though one other than the fuzzed-out guitar shredding, mind-melting psychedelic glory of songs like Panda and Ta Det Laungt, but rather some vaguely recognizable, piano-infused and mellowed-out but wholly awesome form nonetheless. These short, sweet songs reminds one of a distant and non-so-well known corner of Amsterdam, far, spiritually at least, from the depraved, llama-filled, filth-encrusted underbelly I historically have been unable to escape, tucked away in a quietly hidden, acid-fueled jazz club at the end of a small canal, barely an audible nod from the too-cool crowd of home-sick Moroccans and hipster Dutch pot heads, concurrently serious and breezily self-indulgent, where I imagine Dungen has a residency on every other Tuesday nights. Hyper drumming, as always, and beautiful piano and guitar create a somber and thoughtful mood without taking away any of the fun.

8. Born Ruffians / Hummingbird – I love these guys. Really good-time and well-crafted and performed guitar-driven pop songs. No more, no less, no fuss, no muss. What is there to say about being a teenager from outside Toronto, playing gushingly-sung solos, singing shriekingly-yelped harmonies with your best friends in a different beer-soaked club every night, having to beat away the girls with your guitar case? Clearly, I made some poor life choices. Enjoy it, lads. Fly away li’l hummingbird!

7. Deerhoof / Snoopy Waves – If you’re into beautiful and silly guitar play that usually rocks out over and in between incomprehensible Japanese-accented, if not Japanese outright, squawks and squeals, in what I imagine are complicated discussions involving cartoon characters marrying flowers and living in mushroom-shaped houses, then this is the band for you. Actually, this inclusion is a bit of a sign of respect to their very brilliant previous album, Friend Opportunity, but the new one’s good too and this song particularly kicks a jam.

6. Perspex Icon / Wire – This was one was a tough call; it was originally going to be the song Water Curses from Animal Collective’s EP of the same name. But I figure since their 2009 Merriweather Post Pavillion will, rightfully so, assume the positions of 1-10 on the Album List here next year, and its songs will also sweep the Song List as well, I’d spread the wealth around and include this treat from old school post-punkers Wire. You can almost hear the wisdom and experience wrought from 30 years of living/doing it, buttressed against the enthusiasm of still loving/doing it. A great track.

5. Bodies of Water / Under the Pines – After I graduated from college, I took the first of my so-far-two sabbaticals (what’s the over/under on my lifetime number there? Let’s see some bets), that particular maiden voyage involving plans of a cavernous rehabilitation from the rigors of past and future life and love, romantic thoughts of attempting to write and learning to exist, all essentially devolved in short time into sleeping away the days and drinking away the nights, learning to play the guitar in between, and generally living off my parents’ largesse. The self-imposed solitary confinement was broken only rarely, usually in furtherance of visiting the aforementioned Hari en route to either the Troubador or another venue and ensuing raid-inhaling bacchanalia. Once it was to a party at the Hollywood hills house of some rock-star (that’s right, I was pretty fucking cool once) where I found myself sitting alone talking to a gorgeous blonde (she rolled up on me) who had just moved to the area as a model (duh) with her husband (gasp!) and they were looking for cool people to hang out with and play board games (beautiful girls with porcelain skin can say stuff like that and it’s cool, if I tried it, I would be laughed off the reservation). After eventually picking my heart up off the floor, and several drinks later, Hari and I sneaked down to the basement where the instruments were kept and almost immediately kicked into, what I still believe, was a rousing version of the White Stripes’ Fell in Love with a Girl with Hari punishing the drums and with me playing guitar outside of my bedroom for the first time and what I think may have been the only song I knew how to play. As we stood in puddles of water (or bodies of water if you will, foreshadowing) that had leaked in from somewhere, joking about the impending electrocution we would die of, some other dude eventually wandered in and found a guitar and joined in, except the fact that neither him nor I really knew how to play at all (in fact, I would argue based mostly on a terrible memory and whatever pride I have left that I was better at that point) prevented us from making anything other than jarbled, mashed-up nonsense mostly (though I recall a Smashing Pumpkins cover he attempted that I butchered). Long story short (too late!), it turned out that he was the husband of the model that was jonesing for some board game action. It also turned out that years later they formed a band that started getting some good press. I never really gave it much thought as the painful memories and dreams of what-could-have-been were too much to overcome, as well as their reputation as some kind of Christian Mamas and the Papas with full-on 4-part harmonies, etc. However, they roughed up their sound for the second album, and I must admit, nostalgia or not, it’s pretty damn good. Under the Pines starts with a cool drum shuffle thing going on and then one of the tightest little guitar lines I heard all year jumps in. A little bit haunting, a little bit rocking, there’s some good stuff going on here. The girl’s got a pretty voice, and the dude made himself a player. Congrats and good luck (call me).

4. Fucked Up / Black Albino Bones – Old school hardcore with a message, widely attempted but rarely done well. These guys do it well. Pummeling pace, monster riffage, sing-along screams, and just enough musicianship, it’s fun music to listen to, to get pumped to, and there are probably even some interesting lyrics that make you think, but I can’t understand most of what the dude’s yelling about. The album was close to my Best of, but a couple clunkers and they missed the cut. Great line from the band’s wiki about one of the members: “Zucker is a transient who was chosen as the original frontman for Fucked Up due to his confrontational manner. Zucker was replaced as frontman after missing several crucial shows while in jail for punching a Toronto police officer who had stolen a ham sandwich from him.” Our greatest strengths are faults as well.

3. Portishead / Silence – I’m not as bananas for this entire album as some of the chumps (chimps?) out there. But that fairly creepy, fairly inaudible, French/Flemish/Gibberish, I think, spoken-word intro, and after that, tribal, paranoid (android) drumming, bass and harsh guitar (guit-box?) kick in and onto the background. Entrance and trance, séance and dance. Sick. I can’t take homegirl’s voice for an entire album, but for a song or two, this one especially, refusing to stop repeating, “did you know what I lost / do you know what I wanted?” If this song was all you knew about the people making the music, how long before you called the insane asylum for/on them?

2. M83 – Kim and Jessie/Skin of the Night – I just discovered this album recently, but hot damn, this sounds NOTHING like what I remember of them (him?) from years ago. And good god, it is fantastic! Again, I couldn’t choose between these two consecutive songs because they are just so damn good and go so well together. They both kind of sound like My Bloody Valentine plus Tears for Fears plus Spandau Ballet, which is a serious complement around these parts. And I’m guessing that 1) I’m pretty spot on in that assessment, and 2) there’s some self-awareness as I now look and see the album’s cover has various figures from 80’s movies on it. Frankly, this should really be on the Album List instead because the whole thing is so good, but that would leave a big hole here, and I’d prefer to solve this problem now and deal with the fallout later.

1. Fleet Foxes / Tiger Mountain Peasant Song – A somewhat surprising choice in my mind because I resisted this band for much of the year, and because this song is essentially just a lone voice over an acoustic guitar. Perhaps an appreciative nod to them in light of my recent attempts at learning how to finger-pick (I still suck), but this song, and that voice, is jaw-droppingly gorgeous and stirs quite the feelings of grandeur and vulnerability, beauty and pain that our wonderful natural world, and nature itself, creates and is. And it inspired something as awesome as this cover:

"i sleep on my back 'cuz it's good for the spine... and... coffin rehersal"

apparently, people don't like my thinly veiled and hymnly failed admonishments to take the world more seriously, or at least to pretend to care about the relevant furnishings, ie disparities in knowledge vis-a-vis power, wealth, that make our experiences seem the way they do (read: fucked), feel the way they should not (sad?), and generally gaffle the living and breathing (and requisite heaving) we're subjected to, and so on and so forth, yarr, yarr. fair enough. we are all just, how it's been put, squirrels trying to get a nut. that nut has finally arrived.

the album "alopecia" from the band, formerly the artist, known as why? i thought it was a stupid album name 'till i read the first line of this interview. whatever you do, buy it, steal it, borrow, or gank it, it don't matter, just listen, feel, love, and coo to it.

"stalker's my whole style, and if i get caught i'll, deny deny deny"

i was first turned on to this brash rodomontade through my cool and prescient cousin and his recommendation of the anticon collective, cLOUDDEAD. great things last, but not for very long. and so it was.



"sinking in, laughing at something sunken in, i am"

put simply, alopecia nails it. the perfect follow-up to a mastery of hip-hop-cum-indie-rock genius that elephant eyelash was and is, the weird hair-loss album ratchets up the maturity, cynicism, musicality, instrumentation, production, seduction, and overall beauty. the album, helped by evocations like "sucking dick for drink tickets at the free-bar at my cousin's bat mitzvah" conveys general hopelessness and despair, but the specific content hits on everything from death (repeatedly) to longing, self-loathing, friendship, trust, marriage, god, and back to death. i know guzman's down with at least six of those. best album of the year thus far.

"even though i haven't seen you in years, yours is a funeral, i'd fly to from anywhere"

this is one song from an unbelievable live set from the band. video quality is superlative (multi-camerals, holla!), despite the fact that i can't paste directly here, the best decision you made today is one click away. take the time to watch the other 5 songs as well, and you just might feel as such. and more importantly, get the album. crushed bones may help.

"i'll see you when the sun sets east, don't forget me"

i dont sleep til it's light

another brilliant skewering from anthony lane in last week's new yorker, this time serving up the documentary, "shine a light." one may argue it's not fair to beat up on the elderly, and possibly senile, but it's worthwhile for amusingly criticizing both the rolling stones and martin scorsese, from which we can synthesize a critique of the mainstream entertainment culture. here's a hint, it's about a lack of subtlety and an overabundance of close-ups and camera changes. i'd rather watch 100 year old turtles mate, eat and sleep, and i'd have to see fewer wrinkles.

i dont know what it is, but there's definitley something going on upstairs

new nick cave and the bad seeds album out. what i've heard, which is only this song, is very good. here's to looking like this in 2029.

i'm an american band

http://www.myspace.com/buenasmusic

via violenta viven

via violenta played a reunion show

jokes were told
songs even doled
harmed were foes
we've all grown old



























photos by bibiana jaimes

so long stinktown

This is the time of year that we generally see every jerk with a pen, or blog, compile his/her best of the year list, on anything from films to food to favorite trip to the laundromat. I’m no different than the other wannabe proselytizers out there, so I offer you my favorite musical releases of the past annum. One important caveat is the admission that I did not listen to much new music this past year. Only recently did I get back into the downloading game and thus did not get a chance to listen to what I imagine are some pretty good albums. Hard to believe that there were new releases by Les Savy Fav, Blonde Redhead, and Pinback that I haven’t peeped yet, but that’s what happens when you have a wonky audio-out connection on your computer for most of the year. So this is a list of my favorite music from 2007, nothing more, nothing less, just the stuff I’ve been digging on. In no particular order except the crown of the pack goes first.

Radiohead, In Rainbows – you’d have to imagine that if the same album was put out by an unheard of band from Brooklyn named after a Faust song, this would have been at the top of the lists for all the unctuous, musicophilic critics out there, *cough*pitchfork*cough*. Yawn, just another near perfect album from Radiohead, perhaps a little softer and more palatable for some folks compared to their recent efforts. Unlike Hail to the Thief, not a single weak track on this one, though I think “Faust Arp” could have been space better spent. Nonetheless, the rhythm section is brilliant as usual, beautiful strings as always, a bit more finger-picking than I remember, and Thom seems to turn down the overtly political and turn up the sensual and personal. Once again I’m left wondering if Ed actually appears on the album. I played this constantly for three days but could still listen to it now and melt away into my headphones and couch. God bless these guys. Oh yea, and they gave it away for free. Fuck you, record industry.

Wilco, Sky Blue Sky – For a long time I had heard of a band named Wilco, and I guess I had a vague sense that they were considered “alt-country,” but that was probably the extent of my familiarity. I listened to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot once on the road, probably somewhere between Alabama and Ohio, but I can’t really recall what I thought about it, not surprising given my mental and physical state at the time (I think I liked it). Unexpectedly, I managed to listen to Sky Blue Sky right when it came out, thank you AOL streaming, and fell in love from the get go. Just a beautiful collection of songs, some plaintive ballads with a few rockers thrown in, but all brilliantly and simply crafted with a tender touch that is as rare as it is awesome. Highlights include “Either Way,” “Impossible Germany,” and “Sky Blue Sky,” but most of the numbers on here do the job. The guitar work is impeccable throughout, but the solo on “Impossible Germany” is particularly amazing. I guess I should reach into their back catalogue to see if it’s all this good, but if this is the only Wilco album I ever hear, I’ll be more than satisfied.

Battles, Mirrored – if you only listen to one album from a math rock supergoup in 2007, this is it. Stone solid grooves pervade while crunching rhythms lock you in for a nice, long head-bobbing, foot-tapping session. A bunch of tricky little guitar parts and weird sounding keyboards to keep the other parts of your brain occupied too. My only problem with these guys is that they like to go to the Turkey’s Nest, a place I have always been too scared/have better sense to visit.

Animal Collective/Panda Bear, Strawberry Jams/Person Pitch – I hate to group these guys together as one entry, but let’s face it, I would have been hard pressed to identify which is which in a taste test. Not much more I can tell you about these that hasn’t been said in the numerous glowing reviews they’ve received, each well deserved. “Peacebone” on Strawberry Jams and “Bros” on Person Pitch could be two of the best tracks of the year if not decade (Anthony Lane once told me that great reviews must contain obnoxious hyperbole). I feel simultaneously smarter and dumber when listening to this stuff. Both albums seem less frighteningly insane than their previous efforts; glad to see they’re at least beginning to inch back towards Earth from the far reaches of outer space.

LCD Soundsystem, Sound of Silver – Again, this is on everyone’s best of list, and I think I read somewhere that even Jessica Alba likes it, but the truth is, this shit is pretty stellar any way you slice it. If there's any release that challenges In Rainbows for supremacy, this is it. Somehow it works whether you’re just chilling it out and coming down, or getting hyped up to go out and dance (or if you’re like me, sit in the corner and talk about Arrested Development). Great songs, witty lyrics, and impeccable “production,” though this is probably better described as “creation” as it’s all being done on a laptop anyway. There isn't a single note, beat, or utterance that isn't perfectly placed and joyfully crafted. Pure gorgeousness. I can’t wait for the next album from this dude.

Broken Social Scene Presents: Kevin Drew, Spirit If… – Broken Social Scene leader Kevin Drew puts out what I guess is a solo album and, no surprise, it sounds a heck of a lot like a Broken Social Scene album, which is to say, it’s really good. The opener, “Farewell to the Pressure Kids,” blasts you in the face before the album ultimately settles into a mellow vibe that is calm yet filled with emotion. “Tbtf” (an acronym for “too beautiful to fuck”) is, I imagine, about real life girlfriend Leslie Feist, who is definitely just that. As an aside, my many critics will point to the inclusion of Spirit If… and my omission of Feist’s The Reminder from this list as further evidence of my misogynist tendencies, an allegation leveled at me in the past. However, I assure everyone out there that I love Feist and that album does not appear here only because I have not had the chance to listen to it (remember, wonky audio-out for most of the year). Don’t let the fact that there are no other female artists prominently featured on any of the other albums I’ve selected fool you. I love and respect women as people and musicians. Promise.

The Whore Moans, 5 Song Demo – “Lock up your daughters, hide your wives, born on the underside of hell’s own face, I found them outside in the dumpster, I hosed them off, and I brought them inside, have you heard of the rock’n’roll apocalypse that comes raining down from the sky, ladies and gentlemen, The Whore Moans!” This collection’s intro perfectly sums up the sound and prepares you for what’s to come – blistering hardcore fury, born on the underside of hell’s own face, indeed. The opening track, “Disappear,” is the set’s gem. The overriding guitar riff is drenched in bright distortion and provides anthemic bombast throughout. The highlight though is the shrill, shrieking, that’s-gotta-leave-your-throat-sore-as-hell vocals, classic hardcore screaming filled with equal parts desperation and jubilation. It sounds like homeboy was up all night hanging out with The Cramps, drinking jager, and stuffing razor blades into candy apples. I don’t listen to too much of this kind of music anymore, but it’s a carnal, guilty pleasure when done right. If you can’t crack open a few cold ones, crank the volume to the right, and enjoy this with some friends, you may want to check for a pulse.

Beirut, Lon Gisland EP – Ah teenage kids from New Mexico writing Balkan influenced World music. Ain’t America grand? Leader Zach Condon has a bit of the faux-afflatus affliction that I guess some teenage potential-geniuses, heavy on the potential, are prone to, but you can’t deny great songs. A solid collection of tunes featuring some pretty ukulele and slick horn lines. “Elephant Gun” was the feel good hit of the spring. What’s that term for a word that sounds like the definition of that word? (“Ring” is the example off the top of the head). Well, the first part of “Scenic World” (once all the instruments come in) is the musical equivalent of that phenomenon. Beautiful. A nice addition to the EP would have been their rendition of “Ederlezi,” a traditional Roma song. You blew it on that one, young Zachary.

Born Ruffians, Born Ruffians EP – A group of teenagers from Ontario, Canada (not to be confused with Ontario, California) put out one of the catchiest records of the year. Guitar driven pop with some enthusiastic melodies. Reminds me a bit of early Pixies with Frank Black’s deep and powerful howling replaced by a higher pitched sort of squeal, and it works just as well. This isn’t going to change anyone’s life, but I’m a sucker for this type of stuff when done well, and these gents sure do. Opener “This Sentence Will Ruin/Save Your Life” and its avalanche drum fills are the highlight.

Black Kids, Wizard of Ahhhs EP – Why are there so many EPs on this list? Is it because I have been caught up in the hype of the next big thing and are checking out bands just starting out, or do I just have a worryingly short attention span? These guys were definitely the victim/recipient of some serious internet buzz, but for once, it was backed up by some substance. Breezy pop songs that are more than overflowing with youthful exuberance belie the feeling you get that these guys know exactly just what they’re doing. “I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You” is retardedly good and I have the feeling it caused significant wear on ipod repeat buttons all over Williamsburg.

Soulja Boy, Crank That (Soulja Boy)­­ – The first time I heard this song I was in a car on Gramercy Park doing two things I absolutely hate: 1) driving, and 2) listening to mainstream hip-hop radio. The second time I heard this song I was at a wedding in Puerto Rico doing two things I absolutely hate: 1) listening to wedding dance music, and 2) drinking by myself without either a guitar or TV remote in hand. On both occasions though I was transplanted away from my detestations to a magical land of steel drum beats and unintelligibly humorous rapping. This song is pure fun and ridiculousness, as is the dance that accompanies it, and it gets me pretty hyped to go out and do my thing, whatever that is. Even better than the song though is this synch-up made by some fan, just awesome.