Dance to the Music

Here I will regale you with tales of death, destruction, music & jam, but mostly the music. Since I am regularly being ridiculed for my HMV-style room, stand up & salute the maggot-ridden corpse of 'Top of the Pops' as I present: Jon's (very nearly) Definitive Top Five(ish) Albums of All the Years, Ever (as long as they fall between 1988 and now). As the Scissor Sisters would say, "Ta-Dah!"

Tuesday

2006

Five. Giant Drag Hearts & Unicorns

This is one of those records that in the olden days you might have thought had been played at the wrong speed, or the vinyl was warped, or even the tape in the cassette was stretched to buggery. But no, after a couple of minutes your ears adjust and realise that it is supposed to sound like that.

Every so often the air is startlingly punctuated by barmy and unintelligible sounds erupting from mad Miss Annie Hardy's mouth. The music looks around, wondering why everyone is staring, open-mouthed, and then starts up again as though nothing out of the ordinary just occurred.

The titles of the tracks, such as 'Kevin is Gay' or 'You Fuck Like My Dad' (obviously stolen from the black-hearted, Irish girl group B*Witched) may give a small insight into the inner workings of the minds of those involved. The lyrics are mostly downright twisted, full of emotion and dark humour.

The entire length of the album, there is always something niggling at the back of your senses, a feeling that something is almost amiss. If it wasn't for this slightly sinister undercurrent this would still be a strong collection of songs. Killer tunes that are a little rough around the edges, but the growing sense of unease and, yes, excitement elevates it into a listening experience worthy of its place in this years greatest aural achievements.

And unlike some silly people I am very much fond of the bonus track cover of 'Wicked Game'. Much better than Mr. Isaac's yodelling original.

Four. Beck The Information

Some commentators have dubbed this a return to form, but I cannot agree with this statement. I am not convinced that Beck ever lost his form. He may have ventured further afield, wandering around between arbitrary musical genres, but I don't believe a bad album he has made. Still, this is a bit of a page three stunner.

More varied in style than his previous records, this is like a mix of his best work, a Greatest Hits, but with all new songs. Original, yet familiar, his funny skew-whiff raps are teamed with more melancholy numbers. This creates not a schizophrenic feeling, but more the image of a well-rounded, if a bit weird, individual.

Ordinarily I would find an album clocking in at 67 minutes a bit of a struggle, but worry not, there is never a dull moment and no time to be bored. Denied a chart entry for its 'gimmicky' DIY cover concept (I think the BPI have been misinformed if they think that is the reason people buy CDs), playing with all the groovy stickers continues the overall sense of fun and freedom that fills any room in which these tunes can be heard.

"One, two, you know what to do!"

Three. Thom Yorke The Eraser

I've never been a big fan of Radiohead, for no particular reason, the stuff I'd been exposed to just didn't really grab me by the shoulders, spin me round by my ossicles and force me to sit up & take notice. I went to see Lamb at the Jazz World Stage during Glastonbury 2003, rather than partake in the "best festival set ever"™ by Radiohead on the Main Stage, and never regretted it.

But this, ooh, it gets me right here (no peeping). It was given to me as a birthday present and I was a little dubious before I put it on. The second I did, ooh, the sound hit me in the guts, albeit gently at first, like a bitch-slap from a small child. This record's odd tone makes it seem like it should be a grower, and it kind of is, but even on first listen you find yourself immersed in a whole new sonic world.

Thom Yorke's soaring voice has an edge of the miserablism that had turned me off his band in the first place, but the jittery beats and the interjections of electronic bleeps & squiggles lifts the mood. The dark, smoky atmosphere continues throughout the record, but despite this adherence to a limited soundscape it continues to hold your interest with its varied melodies and strange, layered noises. The album rewards repeated listens, though it initially sounds sparse and misleadingly minimalist, there's always something new to tempt the ear. It's obviously time to ditch my preconceptions and give Mr. Yorke's old band another try.

Two. Sonic Youth Rather Ripped

Sonic Youth were always a band I meant to check out and I know I would have worshiped them if I'd gotten in to them earlier. I bought a couple of their late 80s/early 90s albums quite a while ago and was genuinely impressed, but I've never managed to catch up. Every time a new album came out I kept prodding my fast draining mind with a spoon handle, but to no avail, it wasn't until the magnificent 'Rather Ripped' that I finally made the commitment, and oh boy (yes, oh boy) I'm glad I did.

The first voice you hear, about a second in, is Miss Kim Gordon's, and she's actually singing, quite a rare occurrence, my limited memory and even more limited knowledge tells me. This is indeed a good thing and she keeps it up through most of her vocal appearances on the record, contrasting nicely with the stoned & throaty stylings of Mr. Thurston Moore.

This is a great wonky, rocking pop album, not too experimental, but in no way ordinary. An array of stylishly duelling melodies, just the right amount of dishevelled tunelessness, this gang have aged like a fine (farmyard of) wine. Employing a varied palate of big choruses, quiet moments, fat chords & skinny guitars, there's a good balance of the slapdash and the skilled. It is, in fact, skill. There's a song here for everyone. Mine is the catchy 'Incinerate', guaranteed to get you jiving like John Prescott's wife, complete with strangely unflailing, angular finger movements.

One. Jenny Lewis with The Watson Twins Rabbit Fur Coat

At long last, here is my tip-top, most favouritest record of the year, and it's not just because it's got twins in it.

Jenny Lewis began her working life as a child actor, starting off in a Jelly advert and graduating to become Becky's friend in Roseanne (the original puffy Becky, not the Scrubs one). This kind of CV would not usually bode well for musical greatness, but, with her band Rilo Kiley, she has managed to produce a mighty fine body of work so far. The band was generating a fair bit of a much deserved buzz at the beginning of last year with their 'More Adventurous' album, but this seems to have passed most people by. A dirty shame, as I feel that this surpasses it by a mile. Eschewing the rockier side of some of her earlier songs, this embraces 1970s twangy country music head on.

From the first few bars of the a cappella first track 'Run Devil Run' the mood is set, with the lush vocal harmonies of the artists currently known as The Watson Twins and buckets of heartfelt emotion. While the music has one foot firmly in the past, the lyrics are thoroughly modern, witty, tragic and funny. The "Big Single" 'Rise Up With Fists' includes concerns about pollution, "It's like trying to clean the ocean, what do you think, you can drain it? It was poisoned and dry long before you came." and Californian life, "You can wake up younger under the knife, and you can wake up sounder if you get analysed." It just proves that it is possible for Los Angeles to produce something intelligent and worthwhile, however rare that may be.

Old chums Bright Eyes, Johnathan Rice and The Postal Service/Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard show up for a sing-along on an appropriate cover of the Traveling Wilburys song 'Handle With Care', echoing the gang's all here feeling of the original supergroup (comprising George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty & Bob Dylan). Then comes the slow-burning masterpiece, 'Born Secular', dealing with the traditional country themes of God and loss. The end comes all too soon, a sad & lonely voice unconvincingly repeating the refrain "So happy, I'm so happy" with only a woodblock for company.

This is a vintage and gorgeous dusty trail of an album. No home or heart should be without one.

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