My Top 25 Most Favorite Tracks of 2015

25. "Friday I'm in Love," Yo La Tengo

24. "Should Have Known Better," Sufjan Stevens

23. "Random Name Generator, " Wilco

22. "Don't Wanna Fight," Alabama Shakes

21. "Big Dark Love," Murder by Death

20. "I Lost My Mind," Titus Andronicus

19. "The Party Line," Belle and Sebastian

18. "I Don't Mind," The Twerps

17. "Cream on Chrome," Ratatat

16. "The Legend of Chavo Guerrero," The Mountain Goats

15. "Miles from the Sea," Calexico

14. "Huarache Lights," Hot Chip

13. "What Part of Me," Low

12. "Big Decisions," My Morning Jacket

11. "Sagres," The Tallest Man on Earth

10. "No No No," Beirut

9. "Things Happen," Dawes

8. "Ong Ong," Blur

7. "Silhouettes," Viet Cong

6. "Can't Keep Checking My Phone," Unknown Mortal Orchestra

5. "Dream Lover," Destroyer

4. "Living Zoo," Built to Spill

3. "My Baby Don't Understand Me," Natalie Prass

2. "Pretty Pimpin," Kurt Vile

1. "Ground Walks with Time in a Box," Modest Mouse

My Top Ten Most Favorite Albums of 2015

10. Girls in Peacetime Want to Dance, Belle and Sebastian

9. Untethered Moon, Built to Spill

8. Why Make Sense?, Hot Chip

7. B'lieve I'm Goin' Down..., Kurt Vile

6. Poison Season, Destroyer

5. The Waterfall, My Morning Jacket

4. Edge of the Sun, Calexico

3. Ones and Sixes, Low

2. The Magic Whip, Blur

1. Strangers to Ourselves, Modest Mouse 

The Song of the Day

Today's song of the day is dedicated to your inner child that is being suffocated by society.

"I Don't Wanna Grow Up," Tom Waits, 1992

Happy Birthday, Tom Waits!

Celebrate genius.

Haul

On Saturday, 11/28, I dropped into Atomic Records in Burbank with Russ. This was my haul.

"Status," by Eric Dolphy

Double album issue of avant-garde breaking bop jazz artistry. 

"Ridin' Shotgun," Dub Narcotic Sound System

I was not prepared for how funky Calvin Johnson could get. This was a fun(ky) surprise.

"Double Barrel," Dave and Ansel Collins. 1971

I was looking for their version of "That Girl." Silky smooth soul-reggae soup. But it's not on youtube? Well, here's their biggest hit instead.

Can you dig it?

Rest in peace, Allen Toussaint

I hope you're listening to old records and eating shrimp po-boys in heaven. I hope we all get to.

After three spins: "Stuff Like That There," by Yo La Tengo

After a long delay, I am finally writing about this album...

To understand and to appreciate Stuff Like That There fully, you have to connect it to Yo La Tengo's Fakebook, from 25 years ago. They even have said this is the 25 year anniversary follow-up to it.

I fell in love with Facebook, 18 years ago, when I picked up a copy while out with one friends before taking a quick road trip to San Diego. I convinced Nick and Mark to let me play Facebook, the entire ride that night. I don't think they got the album the way I got it. I was immediately hooked by the pedal steel, the countrified-folk-indie. The vibe. It set me out on a quest to find the original versions of all this fabulous covers. Over the years, Fakebook, remained one of my own personal cult-classic-ish albums.

To learn that Yo La Tengo were recording a follow-up of sorts? I was all in. Immediately.

Stuff Like That There is a nice, warm, comforting album. It's an album that I can cuddle with in a warm cabin somewhere. It's almost entirely acoustic. It sound the way watercolor landscapes look. It is nostalgia inducing. It is conversation starting. Or, even better, when conversation goes quiet, this album stands in and saves all from the silence.

One definite conversation starter is their version of The Cure's "Friday I'm in Love." So unexpected! So happy to hear this! It's exactly what a cover should be--paying respect to a song you admire by not recording an identical version. But instead to take the song, and reinterpret it to fit your own steez. Your own vibe.

Perhaps that's what is best about Facebook and Stuff Like That There. These are covers. But they are Yo La Tengo songs still. Even the Yo La Tengo originals are reinterpreted. But they are STILL Yo La Tengo songs. A prime example is the rethinking and reworking of their classic track "The Ballad of Red Buckets." It does the original from the album Electr-o-pura justice. And it fits into Stuff Like That There so well, it's almost like it it could not exist anywhere else.

One last piece of beauty I would like to mention here: Hank Williams' "I'm so Lonesome I Could Cry." Georgia's gentle delivery and her interesting pace of delivery bring a new sentiment to this song entirely. There's a feeling of resignation now rather than yearning. Reverb rich guitar lines add color to this art piece.

This album would be paired perfectly with a mug of hot chocolate.

Haul

A few Saturdays ago, I stopped in CD Trader in Tarzana, and this was my haul.

"Let My Children Hear Music," Charles Mingus

"In a New Setting," Milt Jackson

"Into My Arms," Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, 1997

"I don't believe in an interventionist God

But I know, darling, that you do

But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him

Not to intervene when it came to you

Not to touch a hair on your head

To leave you as you are

And if He felt He had to direct you

Then direct you into my arms"

This is a song of pure beauty. There is no other way to describe it. Nick's trademark baritone voice is as soft as it could ever be. And direct. Has there ever been a more direct opening line? Only a genius like Nick Cave could craft a line that shoots down every flimsy connection between religion and sappy love songs in the pop music cannon. Hey, I don't believe God's job is to bring you and I together... But just in case it is...

"Chesterfield King," Jawbreaker, 1991

"We stood in your room and laughed out loud. 

Suddenly the laughter died and we were caught in an eye to eye. 

We sat on the floor and did we sit close." 

Brian was a good friend. He offered to drive Mike and me to the airport one gray, wet morning for a flight to San Francisco. My first trip away from my family. First time on an airplane without them. Mike and I just wanted to run around San Francisco for the weekend. It was the late 90s, but we still sought to channel some Beat energy circa 1956.

Brian was in the driver seat. Mike in the passenger seat. He was much bigger than me. So I crammed into the tiny seats behind in Brian's pick-up truck. My knees pressed against my chest, my body positioned sideways, leaving my head to stare out the rear window at the 15 freeway and what we were leaving behind that morning.

A mixtape Brian had made was blasting through the truck speakers. The only song I remember from the drive was Jawbreaker's "Chesterfield King." A song I had heard many times before. But on that freeway drive, that song hit me in a new way. Like a first kiss. A first anything. 

The story Blake Schwarzenbach howls is the classic teenage love angst song. But he captures his feelings in a novel way and layers the song atop the punk chord changes. The energy of the music matches the energy that teenagers keep hidden in their heads, their chests, their other places. 

"I took my car and drove it down the hill by your house. 

I drove so fast. 

The wind it couldn't cool me down, so I turned it around and came back up."

The best line of the song. The pseudo-chorus above, paints the clear picture of a tiny moment that means so much. Not many songwriters are able to capture these tiny moments. Blake can. And although I never drove my car down a hill by any girl's house to cool myself off, Blake sings it with so much heart and honesty, I feel like I have. Maybe I did. I don't remember. 

And a live version because WHY NOT?

Rest in Peace, Bob Johnston

I listened to Blonde on Blonde today without knowing that its legendary producer had passed away. 

Farewell Bob Johnston. 

   
                               

Haul.

On Thursday, August 12, I stopped in CD Trader in Tarzana. This is my haul.

Double Barrel, Dave and Ansel Collins. 180 gram reissue.

24 Hour Revenge Therapy, Jawbreaker, 20th Anniversary reissue.

"City Too Hot," Lee Perry

It's over 100 degrees today. This is the appropriate song.

Haul.

On Saturday, August 8, I stopped in the Record Parlour in Hollywood,

and purchased The Cannonball Adderley Quintet at the Lighthouse.

I stumbled and danced in and out of the Lighthouse in Hermosa Beach many nights of my twenties. I was always told that it had once been THE place for jazz in Los Angeles. I always found that a little difficult to believe. It was true. 

Gallery Jukebox. Andy Warhol and Nick Cave

Pairing paintings with music...

"Electric Chair," Andy Warhol. 1963.

"Mercy Seat," Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, 1988

                                           

"Red Paint," The Promise Ring, 1996

"I was sad enough last Saturday,

I woke you to talk but you didn't have much to say."

I will always treasure those first two Promise Ring albums. Yes, nostalgia is a powerful thing, but so is damn good music. 90s indie rock. My favorite type of music.  

"Red Paint" from The Promise Ring's awesome debut, 30 Degrees Everywhere, opens with its immediate bouncing bass and palm muted power chords. Davey von Bohlen's vocals are free verse poetry confessions. He sings something about Cherry Cokes. Together, Davey, guitars, bass, drums all ascend into an eruption into what would be the chorus if this were a traditional song format.

But that's the thing. Promise Ring songs don't always fall into the verse-chorus-verse format. Sometime there are no choruses. The song structures lay the template for the emo uprising of the early 00's. But don't blame The Promise Ring for that. Songs like "Red Paint" stand up for all that could have been great with aggressive non-traditional structure indie rock paired with emotional and poetic lyrics. 

Here is where this all works.

Bewitched

Random reviews of random albums...

Bewitched, by Luna, 1994

1994 is my favorite year for music ever. I've said it before. I'll say it plenty of times again. So many great albums released. Bewitched is another stellar example of the magic of 1994.

But it would be two years later, in 1996, when Bewitched caught me in its sorcery. I had just gotten my first job. A 16 year old ice cream scooper at the local Baskin Robbins. It didn't last long. One and a half paychecks. Every night when my shift was over, I'd hop into my Volkswagon Vanagon and hit play. The cassette in the deck for these three weeks of sweet treat labor was Luna's Bewitched.                                  

I was terrible at scooping ice cream. I was even worse at cleaning the place after closing time. I just went through the half-assed motions until my shift supervisor finally just said enough, go home. Then back into the van for more Bewitched.

It was this year of my life where I plummeted hard for Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground. Obsessed. So what hit me first in the brain about Luna was, man, they sounded like the Velvet Underground! Or at least more like the Velvets than any other band around in the 90s. Easily. 

Bewitched opens with the seminal "California (All the Way)." 4 muted bar chords open the song. Strumming only the high strings ohh so gently to welcome you in. Few songs are so effective in their welcoming. The lead guitar sings the melody line that will form the chorus, and then Dean Warham's spoken, soft voice opens up the tale about a relationship crumbling across state lines. Velvets connection? Listen to this song and tell me it does not remind you of "Ride into the Sun." Same chords even!

(Side note. I will forever love "California (All the Way)" because it was a song that my teenage band would play at every show.)

"Tiger Lily" is up next. The mellow, cool guy, almost even too cool, vibe of Bewitched glides on here. Velvet vibe still present. Connection? Listen "Tiger Lily" and then listen to "Some Kinda Love." Hear it?

But the hands down most gorgeous piece of the gorgeous Bewitched puzzle is the title track. The song opens with a clean electric guitar chords processed with perfection in a heavy tremolo effect. Four chords to infinity. I can lie down to this song and forget to get up until long after it is finished. Dean whispers "All of a sudden/the girl of my dreams" and four bass notes roll with the four chords. A gentle organ follows along. After the chorus, the drums enter along with a second guitar and pure magic has been made. Horns and vibes in the outro. This is a masterpiece.

A beautiful song written to a beautiful muse. A bewitching muse. That emotion is captured in this song. Dean is not just in love with her. He is not just enchanted by her. He is captivated. He is drawn. All he can do is strum these four chords until he can longer cradle the guitar. He throws it down "And I'll come running to her." He repeats. I believe it.

Classics.

Nancy and Lee on NBC in 1967. Network television?! This is what network television showed in 1967? This millennium sucks.

Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra, "Some Velvet Morning." Classic.

"Instant Disassembly," Parquet Courts, 2014

"Mamasita, catch me now as I sink
Into darkness I thought to be extinct
Chilled my eyeballs as the curtains were torn
And shed a light so bright
Shining like the day I was born"

"Instant Disassembly" by the Brooklyn band Parquet Courts has become one of my favorite indie rock tracks of the last few years. Indie music has gone so electronic heavy, so poppy synth heavy, when bands like Parquet Courts pop up, I am so relieved. Indie ROCK has a future. Guitars, drums, bass, unfiltered vocals. They still have a place. Bands can still rock in this era of machines.

All that said, perhaps I am not drawn to this track because it is glimpse into the future of indie rock. Maybe it pulls me because it reminds me of indie rock's glorious past. These guys grew up listening to the same music as me. They must have.

"Instant Disassembly" is a throw-back to the American post-punk sound of the 1980s and early 90s. Strip away Sonic Youth's feedback. Slow down the Minutemen. Let Fugazi rest for a bit. Make Stephen Malkmus smile a little more, in a less ironic way. Cram The Feelies into a time machine. Tell Television to lay off the guitar solos. If Stephen Merritt was not so-David Sedaris-y. Ask the Talking Heads to go back to their first rehearsal songs. All of this is what I hear in Parquet Courts' tracks.

"And it’s worth repeating
I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe
It’s hard to inhale yeah
I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe"

Wilco albums from least best to super best

9.  AM, 1995

8. Star Wars, 2015

7. Sky Blue Sky, 2007

6. The Whole Love, 2011

5. Wilco (The Album), 2009

4. A Ghost is Born, 2004

3. Being There, 1996

2. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, 2002

1. Summerteeth, 1999

After three spins: Star Wars by Wilco

Impressions of new releases after three listens...

Star Wars, by Wilco

Such an amazing surprise. Right there, in my Facebook feed, Wilco announced a new, free album for download. Not a song--an album! 

So here's where we begin:

1. FREE Wilco album. Yes!

2. Titled Star Wars. Yes!

3. Cat painting album art. Yes!

All in all, that's a pretty awesome surprise package. Now if the album rocks, well that's just icing on the cake.

The album does rock. In a way.

Star Wars stands out as Wilco's loosest effort. By far. The songs are there. The structures are sound. They are good songs. The performances are also solid. But it's all loose. It sound as if they went into a studio on a Friday, laid down all of the tracks by Saturday, and saved Sunday for the post-production magic. Except, I think Tweedy and the boys partied too hard Saturday night (and all day Saturday too) and took Sunday off. The album is not polished. It is rushed. But its honesty is appreciated. 

Sonically, what stands out, aside from just its immediate feeling, are the fuzz guitar leads. Nels Cline rocks. He's probably one of my favorite guitarists I have ever seen live (apologies, Mr. Marr), and he shreds out in front on pretty much the entire album. His leads punch through studio boards, through studio walls, through my speakers. 

The feeling of friends messing around with music begins with the album's opener, "EKG," an instrumental jam session. Not a highlight.

To me, the highlight tracks are "More," "Random Name Generator,"and "Taste the Ceiling." On these three tracks, you know the songs are there. Tweedy's songwriting is efficient and effective. His lyrics are expectedly cryptic. After three listens, I'm still not sure what the songs are really about. Good! Even though the unequal production here does give a shine to the songs, the performances are still  fun to listen along to. Like with the best of Wilco songs, you can hear a stew of influences in their music. The alt-country tag will never die--twang ascends in "Ceiling." The love for classic rock is there, evident in "Name Generator." Folk-rock song structure resides in "More."

Star Wars is fun. However, I'm not left with many memorable moments to grab onto and press close to my chest, or to let run around my head for endless hours.

                                      

Classics.

Modest Mouse. As a three piece. In the late '90s. Some of my most favorite music. Ever.

"Doin' the Cockroach," live in Seattle.

Gallery Jukebox. Mark Rothko and Built to Spill

"Red Over Dark Blue on Dark Gray," Mark Rothko

                                    

"Randy Describes Eternity," Built to Spill

"I'll Be Your Mirror," Clem Snide, 2003

"I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are, in case you don't know
I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset
The light on your door to show that you're home"

I spent many teenage weeknight hours up in my bedroom with an acoustic guitar in my lap, ears to the speakers, trying to play along with many albums that spun my world. The first Velvet Underground album was one album I especially fell hard for. I tried my best to learn every song on the album's chord structures so I could play along with Lou and Sterling and John and Maureen. Nico sang for us. "I'll Be Your Mirror," as a hopeless teenage romantic was one of my favorite to strum along to.

Nico's voice is distinct. It is unmistakable. It is Nico. Cool, both in tone and concept, and monotone. However, I always felt that this song should have been sung by Lou. Later I heard a live version when he sung it after Nico left the band. Yes. That was better.

Recently, I heard this version by Clem Snide. I wasn't expecting it. Then it hit me. Holy crap, this is the Velvet's song. The song and the sentiment fit so perfectly with the Clem Snide sound and delivery.

I love when someone is able to cover a song so well that it sounds as if it was written for them to sing. It's rare when bands can do this. Clem Snide achieves this on "I'll Be Your Mirror."

Classics.

Gene Vincent in 1960. Dig it.

Ratatat albums from least best to super best

5. LP4, 2010

4. Magnifique, 2015

3. LP3, 2008

2. Ratatat, 2004

1. Classics, 2006

After three spins: Magnifique by Ratatat

Impressions of new releases after three listens...

Magnifique by Ratatat

Through five albums, over the course of 11 years, Ratatat have stayed true to their sound and vision. Each album is a Ratatat album. You can determine that within the first minutes of listening. The rich tones of the lead guitar will dance with the electronic beats, leaving you swimming in a mix of rock, hip hop, and world rhythms. All set in engaging instrumental arrangements.

Magnifique continues this work. It rings of a more stripped down set of songs, nowhere near as expansive as 2008's LP3. Magnifique is more of a guitar album than the last two releases. I read once somewhere that their debut album was described as being a mix between the Rolling Stones, Jay-Z, and Beethoven. I trued using that description to my wife before I took her to see Ratatat at the Palladium years ago. She raised an eyebrow. She thought I was crazy. Again. But on this new album, I definitely feel the more classic rock vibe. Just sub out Jay-Z and replace it with Daft Punk.

The album opens with a baroque sounding organ intro, reminiscent of the harpsichord break down in the Beatles' "In My Life." Classic rock and roll's influence appears early on.

"Cream on Chrome," the album's lead single is also the standout track to me so far. It is driven by a straight 4-beat drum sequence. Think "Billy Jean" by that one guy. The beat remains authoritative throughout, like a railroad chugging down the line. The guitar lick is clean and bright. It sets the tone for the tone of the album. Oops. Too many tones.

"Abrasive" is bright like industrial stainless steel, sanitized. Daft Punk's Discovery is the clear influence on the head guitar licks here. And the guitar shreds. It could live alongside anything on Discovery. Almost.

"Drift" features quirky keys in soft dance. It reminds me of a possible early outtake by My Morning Jacket. Random here.

"Nightclub Amnesia" continues the Daft Punk vibe. A dirty, funk guitar propels this number. Reminds me of "Da Funk."

"Supreme." I love this track. But it's not a typical Ratatat track. Rather than being tuned into French electronic house music. The boys here sound like they've been listening to one of my favorite instrumental albums--The Shadow of Your Smile by Friends of Dean Martinez. Or maybe they were listing to Santo et Johnny on repeat. Beautiful steel guitar slides up and down your ears. Like sweet, thick, syrup.

After three spins, I declare this album resides in the middle of Ratatat's discography. Not as great as the first 3 albums. But better than 2010's LP4.