Year-End List
Since 2004 is right around the corner, I might as well answer another unasked question: What were my favorite albums this year? (Even if they weren’t really all from 2003.)
Dear Catastrophe Waitress, Belle & Sebastian
This is exactly what pop music should be. Having listened to almost all their back catalogue, I am convinced that as they age they get better. Piazza, New York Catcher is simply brilliant. I know that the Sinister kids are having quite a debate about the band's seemingly new direction, but I would argue that DCW is merely the end result of their evolution thus far. Delicious.
Castaways & Cutouts, The Decemberists
This is also everything that pop music should be. These guys (and gals) remind me that there should be more accordions in rock, like They Might Be Giants, only not as goofy. July, July has everything, crooked French-Canadian uncles included. Leslie Anne Levine haunts but doesn’t scare.
Her Majesty the Decemberists, The Decemberists
Their quick follow up album. The Soldiering Life jauntily exposes the “special” relationship soldiers sometimes have. If rock started a hundred and fifty years ago, this is what it would have sounded like.
Yours, Mine & Ours, The Pernice Brothers
OK, one of the cable channels swiped The Weakest Shade of Blue for their promos, but that doesn’t change anything. This is good stuff.
Chutes Too Narrow, The Shins
At times they veer into Jane’s Addiction, but that is forgivable for all the rest that is fantastic. I’ll have to go back and get their first disc.
The Decline of British Sea Power, British Sea Power
These guys sound like the Soft Boys of 1979. Silly, jammy, intelligent underneath it all. I especially like it when they sound like what The Jazz Butcher should have been. No, I don't think these guys are the new saviors of rock (how they're being hyped in the UK music press), but I still enjoy them.
Either/Or, Elliott Smith
Yeah, hipsters, I know I missed him while he was still alive, but it’s not too late to ingest his legacy. He’s growing on me.
Luxor, Robyn Hitchcock
As he’s aged (50, now!) he’s mellowed. His new spare, more direct music is more virtuoso than overlooked cult icon. Hopefully, he’ll strap on his old black Telecaster and get fun again. My fegmaniax friends will soon put out a warrant for my arrest on charges of heresy, but this isn’t my favorite Robyn album, though I was desperately hoping for another Eye or I Often Dream of Trains. Still, it’s better than most of the crap that’s out there, Justin Timberlake, Clay Aiken. There used to be a time when his every fart was a revelation to diehard fans like me. Not anymore, but he’s still amazing.
American IV, Johnny Cash
Even his covers of cheesy songs sound gritty, world-weary, and celebratory at the same time. All his songs mocking death/execution seem to take on extra meaning now. Actually, all his American Recordings are stupendously wonderful. I even got his cover of Redemption Song with Joe Strummer from the iTunes Music Store. Count ‘em, three legends in the space of one song!
Streetcore, Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros
The title might leave something to be desired, but this last bunch of bits by the great gravelly poet is up there with his best work--with anyone’s really. Coma Girl is a bit surreal, like most of John Graham Mellor’s best stuff. Long Shadow strips away all the chainsaw guitars and gives us an insight into his hidden folky mind.
Can’t Stand the Rezillos, The Rezillos
Sci-fi surfer punk from Edinburgh, Scotland. Of course, this is from 1978, but I just got my hands on the disc in the last year or so. Top of the Pops is a classic. My Baby Does Good Sculptures is too—first the sprightly, loping bass line, then the chorus, “Don’t love my baby for her pouting lips/don’t love my baby for her curvy hips/I love my baby cuz she does good sculptures, yeah!” Fay Fife’s angelic squeal is the perfect dream for all the little punk boys.
Various Bootlegs, The Clash
They were everything the Pistols should have been, The Only Band That Matters, as they themselves said. Finding a seemingly endless supply of recordings at a somewhat disguised site was like falling into a gold mine. Plus, I get to pretend I’m 15 again.
The girls at the coffee shop’s year-end list would be very short: John Mayer. Blech. At least it’s not Dashboard Confessional or worse, James Taylor.
Thanks to Amazon for most of the cover art. Control-click! Download image to disk!
Since 2004 is right around the corner, I might as well answer another unasked question: What were my favorite albums this year? (Even if they weren’t really all from 2003.)
Dear Catastrophe Waitress, Belle & Sebastian
This is exactly what pop music should be. Having listened to almost all their back catalogue, I am convinced that as they age they get better. Piazza, New York Catcher is simply brilliant. I know that the Sinister kids are having quite a debate about the band's seemingly new direction, but I would argue that DCW is merely the end result of their evolution thus far. Delicious.
Castaways & Cutouts, The Decemberists
This is also everything that pop music should be. These guys (and gals) remind me that there should be more accordions in rock, like They Might Be Giants, only not as goofy. July, July has everything, crooked French-Canadian uncles included. Leslie Anne Levine haunts but doesn’t scare.
Her Majesty the Decemberists, The Decemberists
Their quick follow up album. The Soldiering Life jauntily exposes the “special” relationship soldiers sometimes have. If rock started a hundred and fifty years ago, this is what it would have sounded like.
Yours, Mine & Ours, The Pernice Brothers
OK, one of the cable channels swiped The Weakest Shade of Blue for their promos, but that doesn’t change anything. This is good stuff.
Chutes Too Narrow, The Shins
At times they veer into Jane’s Addiction, but that is forgivable for all the rest that is fantastic. I’ll have to go back and get their first disc.
The Decline of British Sea Power, British Sea Power
These guys sound like the Soft Boys of 1979. Silly, jammy, intelligent underneath it all. I especially like it when they sound like what The Jazz Butcher should have been. No, I don't think these guys are the new saviors of rock (how they're being hyped in the UK music press), but I still enjoy them.
Either/Or, Elliott Smith
Yeah, hipsters, I know I missed him while he was still alive, but it’s not too late to ingest his legacy. He’s growing on me.
Luxor, Robyn Hitchcock
As he’s aged (50, now!) he’s mellowed. His new spare, more direct music is more virtuoso than overlooked cult icon. Hopefully, he’ll strap on his old black Telecaster and get fun again. My fegmaniax friends will soon put out a warrant for my arrest on charges of heresy, but this isn’t my favorite Robyn album, though I was desperately hoping for another Eye or I Often Dream of Trains. Still, it’s better than most of the crap that’s out there, Justin Timberlake, Clay Aiken. There used to be a time when his every fart was a revelation to diehard fans like me. Not anymore, but he’s still amazing.
American IV, Johnny Cash
Even his covers of cheesy songs sound gritty, world-weary, and celebratory at the same time. All his songs mocking death/execution seem to take on extra meaning now. Actually, all his American Recordings are stupendously wonderful. I even got his cover of Redemption Song with Joe Strummer from the iTunes Music Store. Count ‘em, three legends in the space of one song!
Streetcore, Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros
The title might leave something to be desired, but this last bunch of bits by the great gravelly poet is up there with his best work--with anyone’s really. Coma Girl is a bit surreal, like most of John Graham Mellor’s best stuff. Long Shadow strips away all the chainsaw guitars and gives us an insight into his hidden folky mind.
Can’t Stand the Rezillos, The Rezillos
Sci-fi surfer punk from Edinburgh, Scotland. Of course, this is from 1978, but I just got my hands on the disc in the last year or so. Top of the Pops is a classic. My Baby Does Good Sculptures is too—first the sprightly, loping bass line, then the chorus, “Don’t love my baby for her pouting lips/don’t love my baby for her curvy hips/I love my baby cuz she does good sculptures, yeah!” Fay Fife’s angelic squeal is the perfect dream for all the little punk boys.
Various Bootlegs, The Clash
They were everything the Pistols should have been, The Only Band That Matters, as they themselves said. Finding a seemingly endless supply of recordings at a somewhat disguised site was like falling into a gold mine. Plus, I get to pretend I’m 15 again.
The girls at the coffee shop’s year-end list would be very short: John Mayer. Blech. At least it’s not Dashboard Confessional or worse, James Taylor.
Thanks to Amazon for most of the cover art. Control-click! Download image to disk!
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