Vintage and Vogue Squalls*

More than anything, I think, When U Gonna Luv Somebody, the debut album from Charlie the Horse, is the sound of a young band having fun. The way the band harmonizes, the raucous background noises, and the, well, smiles you hear through the music, tend to dominate the feeling of the record.

Displaying a talent beyond their years, the sound on When U Gonna Luv Somebody is often ramshackle yet always intentional and intricate. The banjo and horn on Up and Down Ladies add layers to an already clever love song. Despite the seemingly precocious vocals, lead singer Andrew Zucchino is not without humility in his tribute to the lady in question—explaining to her that “I follow shiny things/ because I’m young.” A better and more simple way to explain dalliances I have not heard (if that’s in fact what this is).



The texture of Hey Girl is different from the rest of the album—the vocals are secondary, playing background music to the piano that leads the way. For young bands, crafting this elaborate sound without cluttering everything else seems to be one of the most difficult propositions in making a record. Yet, here, Charlie the Horse is able to layer all of their sounds and still keep them distinct. It’s an example other fledgling bands would do well to follow.

It also helps, of course, that the distinct sounds are ones you would actually want to hear. The guitar work on Thunderstorm is reminiscent of some of the Black Keys’ best work (not to mention some Built to Spill-esque tremors on Go! Run! Hide! Run!), and Hey Boy starts off with a bass line and organ pulled from the Allman’s Whipping Post.

The real standout though, is Fever. Everything is present here—great vocal harmonies, Zucchino’s emotions on his sleeve, perfect light and airy guitar—and again the overwhelming sense that the band works well together, has fun, and is producing great music. Damn. It’s understated yet overpowering all at once—a sign that the underlying elements are so strong they don’t have to be shouted or turned to 11.



There’s a moment at the end of the first song and title track where you hear someone fiddling with a radio dial, and finally settling on something. Intentional or not, it’s a nice metaphor for the album. There’s a lot going on here, especially considering there are only eight tracks on When U Gonna Luv Somebody. It’s the rare debut album that both promises much for the future and delivers plenty for the present.

*In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve known lead singer Andrew Zucchino since he was a child. (I think) his older brother and I got him drunk for the first time by leaving jello shots in his fridge which he unknowingly ate. That said, I think this caused me to be even more careful with my words than usual. In short, I wholeheartedly believe everything I wrote above. Luckily, Andrew made this easy on me by making a kick-ass record. We’ll do an interview later this week and hear more. Congrats dude.

Give Your Lover a 69 for Valentine’s Day

Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about the Magnetic Fields’ 1999 masterpiece 69 Love Songs. It is, as the title suggests, 69 “love” songs. There’s no way to accurately describe all of the songs in a general manner, they run the gamut from your run of the mill indie-pop to country to electronica. They’re not all brilliant, but there’s enough in there to find something from everyone, even your (perhaps) musically challenged significant other.

Why does it work? Most likely because of lead songwriter Stephin Merritt’s talent and unique approach. In a recent interview with Onion A.V. Club, Merritt pointed out that

You know, most love songs are not cheesy and corny. Most love songs are complaints, I think. Or about unrequited love, coming at it from some oblique angle. Only the ones that say “I love you” over and over are the cheesy, corny ones that people complain about. At least half the songs people hear in the world are love songs. I feel like my love songs, probably none of which just say “I love you” over and over again, are in the mainstream of that tradition of being a little off.

The brilliance in Merritt’s songs lies mostly with their sarcastic remarks (How Fucking Romantic), brilliant insights (They’ll Be Time Enough for Rocking When We’re Old), or casual self-deprecation (I Think I Need a New Heart).

Some of the funniest love songs come from his attacks on clichés. My favorite is from The Book of Love: “The book of love is long and boring / no one can lift the damn thing / it's full of charts and facts and figures / and instructions for dancing.” Merritt describes this process:

I don’t think there are any clichés I try to avoid. As soon as I spot a cliché, I go for it. I feel like clichés are the most useful thing in songwriting. They’re the tool on which you build all the rest of the song. Clichés that other people should try to avoid, I suppose, are rhyming “dance” with “romance,” or putting the word “love” at the end of a line and having to rhyme it. That’s about it. If you want to write a love song, you need to not try to write it for a particular person in a particular situation. It needs to be vague, otherwise you’re going to fall into trap after trap of trying to rhyme with somebody’s name. Keep it vague. That’s the T-shirt from this article.

All in all, there is a lot going on here. It’s going to take some time. But what better way to spend Valentine’s Day with your better half than listening to great music that can make you life, cry, and cringe from song to song? Here’s the 18 I would start with:

Absolutely Cuckoo
All Your Little Words
A Chicken with its Head Cut Off
Reno Dakota
I Don’t Want to Get Over You
Let’s Pretend We’re Bunny Rabbits
Come Back from San Francisco
The Cactus Where Your Heart Should Be
The Book of Love
I Think I need a New Heart
How Fucking Romantic
Nothing Matters When We’re Dancing
Roses
Time Enough for Rocking When We’re Old
Very Funny
(Crazy For You But) Not That Crazy
Papa Was a Rodeo
Love is Like a Bottle of Gin



*Disclaimer: I’ve never tried this before. The closest I came to “sharing” this album with someone was with my friend Deacon, and while our romance is unflappable, it may not be the type most of you share.

New Beach House Record 75% Less Boring

Beach House creates music that you’re only going to be listening to at the beach when it’s pouring rain outside. Still, there’s a need for this type of thing and their new record, Teen Dream does a stellar job of it. It’s a marked improvement from 2008’s Devotion, an unbelievably dull record, especially considering the rave reviews it received (one exception—a beautiful cover of Daniel Johnston’s nearly perfect song Some Things Last a Long Time). This time out, however, Beach House (Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally) create a record that may be the perfect soundtrack to a rainy day at the beach, or anywhere else. I find myself playing it on repeat during Snowpocalypse 2010 here in D.C.

So what makes Teen Dream work where Devotion so boringly failed? In a very general sense, the songs here seem to have more of a purpose. Only a few tracks seem to meander (Norway, Real Love), but most have very direct hooks that catch within the first minute. Alex Scally’s guitar is excellent all over this record. The opener, Zebra, starts with a simple plucked electric guitar, with Victoria Legrand rhetorically asking “don’t I know you / better than the rest?” The guitar is out front again on Silver Soul, but this time Legrand lets her voice fly a bit—“it’s a vision / complete illusion / it is happening again / it is happening again.” Used to Be is as close to a straight pop song they may ever do, while 10 Mile Stereo is as driving of a song as the name implies.

Most impressive on this record, I think, is that Beach House did not change their sound, they just made it sound better (wait…isn’t that a tag line for a commercial?). It’s the sound of a band growing into their own and learning to use each other. Teen Dream will never be everyone’s favorite record and I won’t be putting it on to entertain guests, but it may be the best sleepy, rainy day pop record we hear in 2010.

Fuck Your Coloring Book!

One of my favorite people in the world, who I have defended before, is back! New, semi-crazy but pretty fucking cool blog post! Sure, it’s got a rant about fashion I don’t understand, but the better point is here (I’m putting proper capitalization on his words):

“Remember, there was a time when everybody dissed Michael Jackson every chance they could. Imagine the pressure of being a true icon. Very few human beings are strong enough to take constant hate! If we don’t do what you feel is the shit, you beat us up verbally and mentally, like a Catholic school teacher beating a creative student into submission. I can hear you screaming ‘color inside the lines!’ Well fuck your coloring book.”

There are three things here worth discussing. First is the obvious point—he’s right—as an “icon,” he constantly gets analyzed and beat to shit like everyone else. Sure, he chooses to be an icon, but goddamn don’t we want that? We need icons, he is one. It sucks that we do this to people we like and admire.



Second, you’re made because he called himself an icon in the first place. What, is he supposed to act all doe-eyed and fascinated when he sees his fans and realizes his popularity? Fuck that. It would be even worse if he pretended he wasn’t a celebrity. Are we mad because he’s popular now? Did we think he was better before all of this, before we had to share him with everyone else? If we liked him then didn’t we want this for him? When did I become a question-talker?

The third thing is that sure, we don’t want him always rapping about his celebrity. We don’t want yes men around them so they don’t know what’s worth a shit and what’s not. We want them, at least in essence and spirit, to remain the same, to be able to draw us in for the same reasons they attracted us in the first place. But for them to be able to do that, we have to give them support, which may mean ignoring them when they do something we hate and loving them when they do something awesome. But mostly, it means not being dicks to people we’ve never met.

Following up a Great Record

Two of the best pop-indie-rock albums released in 2007 and 2008 were Spoon’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga and Vampire Weekend’s self-titled debut. For Spoon, it represented the culmination of a number of very good albums, with the result being a beautiful, polished album that was brilliant in moments and strong the whole way through. For Vampire Weekend it was an auspicious debut, one that caused strife and jealousy long before it was even released. This year, however, both groups have released records that are markedly more difficult and less poppy than their predecessors. Spoon’s Transference is a driving, almost hypnotic record which manages to sound like everything they’ve done before yet also nothing like they’ve done before. Contra, the offering from Vampire Weekend, matches for the most part the upbeat nature of their debut, but eschews the beautiful guitars that marked their first record for more keyboard and perhaps just space in general.

Vampire Weekend’s task was insane in a way. Facing more hype than any band since The Strokes, they met expectations with their debut. Yet, just like their predecessors in expectations, following with a second album was always going to be even more difficult. So how did Vampire Weekend acquit themselves? Very well, I think. I’m reading a book called When Giants Walked the Earth, which goes into a detailed history of early Led Zeppelin. In it, Page talks about trying to follow their debut (which was similarly hyped/panned/controversial): “Too many groups sit back after the first album, and the second one is a down trip. I want every album to reach out further—that’s the whole point.” Yet balancing this with not, as he said, overstepping the mark and making it too different from the first was a difficult task. Vampire Weekend may not have done as well as Led Zeppelin, but that’s a bit of an unrealistic ask.



Contra often finds VW eschewing their electrically electric(?) guitars that stamped their first album for keyboards, or as on White Sky, just Ezra Koenig’s voice. It’s an interesting touch. Without the guitars leading the way, everything else comes to the forefront, with mixed results. Sometimes, everything ends well, as on Diplomat’s Son, and sometimes, on tracks like California English and Taxi Cab, the results are not so pretty. Still, there are more standout tracks than not. The aforementioned Diplomat’s Son does well with violin, cello, and piano really leading the way, and some exceptional vocals from Koenig. There is improvement here—I think the track is superior to Campus, one of my favorite’s from the original record.

The opener, Horchata, is similarly interesting and exciting. It manages the upbeat tone of the first record without resorting to guitar to do so. Those wishing for that original sounds will be pleased by the inclusion of Cousins and Holiday, the former being the strongest and second-quickest track on the album, clocking in at 2:25. Koenig sprints through the vocals like there’s not time to waste, and the track works nicely within the album, being sandwiched between two of the slower tracks. Overall the album really does work—there are growing pains—but the bad is undoubtedly outweighed by the good, and the advancement is encouraging.



Spoon’s task is perhaps a bit easier, but no walk in the park either. Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga was a triumph on all fronts (except for the naming of the record maybe), and following that with an even more perfect record would have been impossible. So this time Spoon decided to forgo using a producer, and do the whole album themselves. The result is a more raw, dirtier, methodical record. Fans expecting more of the same will undoubtedly be disappointed. Frontman Britt Daniel explained during an interview on All Songs Considered that while they loved their previous record, they were ready to do something different. That this one would probably have less chord changes, less obvious hooks, and be a little tougher to break through. And it is.

Despite the at least semi-intentional obfuscation by Spoon, Transference is still a strong record. The typically strong melodic tracks are still there, but perhaps a little less plentiful. I count Written in Reverse and Trouble as strong yet typical Spoon tracks. Others like Mystery Zone, Who Makes Your Money, and I Saw the Light drive harder, reduce chord changes, and are more reminiscent of something from A Series of Sneaks than anything since. The record still works though, Bob Boilen opined during his interview with Spoon that this would be a great driving record, and I think that’s accurate. Poppy and fun, it’s not (at least all the way through), but there’s a place for records like this.



Maybe the question behind both of these records is one that has been driving tension between fans and bands for as long as the two have existed—that is, what do bands really owe their fans? Spoon knows it can create great pop fare, as does Vampire Weekend, yet they’ve both forgone that approach on these past two records to some extent. This approach will almost certainly alienate more fans than it makes happy (though it will certainly please some). But does that matter? Do they owe their fans anything/everything? Well, probably not. There are a lot of ways to look at this, but my take is that I want to hear the music that they want to make. If that means I’m not as satisfied with some albums, I’m ok with that—I can listen to something else. But it also means that maybe Spoon, next time around, go back and make another beautiful pop record because they had the chance to do something darker and denser in between. With Vampire Weekend, it means an expansion of their pallet, giving them more options and abilities on their next record. I have the feeling that neither of these records will crack my top 3, or maybe 5 for 2010, but they’re still strong in their own right.

My Favorite 20 Songs of the Year

20. Phoenix-Countdown (Sick for the Big Sun): I don’t think the drummer ever stops with the cymbal splashes here, and it works. Huge, Enormous, Bombastic track.

19. Bill Callahan-Jim Cain: On an album full of Callahan’s sad poetry, this is the best stuff. A few excerpts: “I started out in search of / ordinary things / like how much of a tree/ bends in the wind / I started telling the story / without knowing the end.” “I used to be darker / then I got lighter / then I got dark again.” “But the darkest of nights / in truth still dazzled.” “I ended up in search of / ordinary things / like how can a wave / possibly be.”

18. Andrew Bird-Oh No!: I have no idea what the lyrics mean (“ oh arm in arm we are the harmless sociopaths”), but goddam this tune gets stuck in your head. The whistling is hypnotic and the single fuzz guitar note during the chorus is the best note I heard in all of 2009. Simple in its beauty.

17. Karen O and the Kids-Hideaway: The best thing to come out of Where the Wild Things Are. My favorite Karen O song since Maps. Probably the slowest Karen O song ever. Tragic and delicately beautiful, reminds me of Fall starting to break in D.C. “By the way / you know you’ve always been the one / you’ll ask your reasons why / what once was yours is mine / my baby’s gone.” There’s nothing but her voice and a guitar for like 2 minutes, and even then the song never really breaks, which is perfect.

16. Deer Tick-Easy: Be patient here—you have to get through the meandering intro to get into one of, if not the best chorus of the year. As the lead track on Born on Flag Day, it’s a huge departure from their last effort War Elephant. Three chords never sounded so sweet.

15. Micachu-Sweetheart: 53 seconds of pure genius. Must be heard to be believed. “I love the sound of bass and fear!” What does that mean!!

14. Animal Collective-My Girls: Hard to quibble with the sentiment here—“I don’t mean / to seem like I / care about material things / like a social status / I just want / four walls and adobe slats / for my girls.”

13. Neko Case-Vengeance is Sleeping: Saddest song of the year, only the fact that it makes me so fucking emotional keeps it out of my top 10. http://www.nekocase.com/lyrics/mc06.htm.

12. Bon Iver-Blood Bank: Not satisfied with dominating music in 2009, Justin Vernon released his Blood Bank EP this year, giving us a hint of where he may go when he follows up his brilliant debut album. While the tone is a little less melancholy than previous efforts, Vernon sticks to his strengths, which are, um, everything? It’s a nice step forward, a little different than For Emma, Forever Ago, but not a wholesale diversion from it.

11. Dirty Projectors-Temecula Sunrise: Dave Longstreth really lets his falsetto go here, and it sounds really fucking good. The lyrics are strange (“definitely you can come and stay with us / I know there’s a space for you in the basement yeah / all you gotta do is help out with the chores and dishes / and I know you will”). Great guitarwork as well, which is everpresent on the album anyway. This one and Cannibal Resource have clipped back and forth as my favorite song a number of times.

10. Dirty Projectors-Cannibal Resource: The shaky yet distinct opening chords provide the perfect introduction to Bitte Orca, hinting at what is to come. Despite the variety of sounds here, each one is distinct, holding itself clear as opposed to blending in like the Animal Collective record seems to do.

9. David Byrne & The Dirty Projectors-Knotty Pine: David Byrne brings a quicker beat and chorus to the Dirty Projectors than is present on Bitte Orca. Great leadoff track to a must-own compilation in Dark Was the Night.

8. The Avett Brothers-Laundry Room: Really, really good Avetts song. Maybe my favorite of all time. Vivid description literally and metaphorically of life as a teenager in love: “Close the laundry door / tiptoe across the floor / keep you clothes on / I’ve got all that I can take / teach me how to use / the love that people say you make.” Not content to dwell on teenage years, the Avetts then delve into more present heartache: “last night I dreamt the whole night long / I woke with a head full of songs / I spent the whole day / I wrote em down but it’s a shame / tonight I burn the lyrics / cause’ every chorus was your name.” On top of that, we get their only real old-fashioned instrumental freakout at the end of the song. A fucking triumph, I think especially for those around my age who have experienced both the teenage version and semi-adult version of that heartache. Hard to believe I think there are seven songs better than this.

7. Wilco-Wilco (The Song): The only saving grace on Wilco (The Album). Comforting in a weird way, with Tweedy telling us no matter what else is going on, “Wilco will love you baby.” And despite the possible cheesiness involved with using your own band as a comfort, it works here. Best guitar work on the album as well.

6. Megafun-The Fade: This is close to a perfect alt-country song, and Megafun did it on their fucking debut album. Good lord. The perfect amount of slide guitar, sentimentality, and understated vocals. Some bands go their whole existence trying to record something this beautiful, sad, and brilliant, but Megafun does it on their first try. The rest of their album has them trying a bunch of different sounds, but this is the one that worked best.

5. The National-So Far Around the Bend: Getting me through a year without a new album, thank you. And somehow, they had this gem lying around after Boxer? Wow. Everyone knows a girl like the one they describe: “take a bath and get high through an apple / wanted to cry but you can’t when you’re laughing/ nobody knows where you are living/ nobody knows where you are / you’re so far around the bend.”

4. Phoenix-1901: Really great feedback-laden guitar line, maybe the second best line of the year behind the piano on my number 1 pick. Second best song on a great summer album, good lyrics for it as well—“20 seconds till the last call / going hey hey hey hey! / lie now you know it’s easy / like we didn’t all summer long / and I’ll be anything you ask and more.”

3. Phoenix-Lisztomania: Giving it the edge over 1901 because of the Franz Liszt reference and because I fell in love with it first. Doesn’t have that same guitar hook, but great description of trying to write a love song—“so sentimental / not sentimental no / romantic not disgusting / yet darling I’m down and lonely,” and then the pains of trying to write pop music in general—“these days it comes and goes / lisztomania / think less but see it grow / from a mess to the masses.”

2. Neko Case-This Tornado Loves You: Best Neko Case song of all time. She tears through it over a surprisingly full arrangement, screaming “this tornado loves you / this tornado loves you / what will make you believe me?” Awesome acknowledgement of her own status that she laments all through the album, and a tempting plea at the end. Of course none of it would work if it didn’t all sound so great.

1. Grizzly Bear-Two Weeks: I heard this on All Songs Considered, immediately got it and put it on a CD, took it to work, and told everyone at work that it was going to be the best song of the year. And it’s not just for posterity’s sake that it ends up here. Takes no time to fall in love with, as soon as you hear the first piano chords you are hooked. It’s so fucking good that it makes the rest of the album seem slow and awful by comparison (which it certainly is not). My only problem with it is that if Grizzly Bear can make this sound so effortlessly, why don’t they write a whole album’s worth of material like this? Unreal.

My Favorite Songs of the Year, 39-21

39. The Low Anthem-Charlie Darwin: My mom’s favorite song of the year! A little disappointing live, but still really, really good.

38. St. Vincent-The Neighbors: St. Vincent sings this like a song that should be on the Desperate Housewives soundtrack if it were a show worth watching: “Ohhhhhh no / what would your mother say / what would your father do what would the neighbors think / if they only knew.” The chorus is cluttered with feedback off her guitars and vocals, putting the whole situation is perfect obscurity.

37. Bill Callahan-Eid Ma Clack Shaw: Great song about trying to forget an ex on a pretty amazing break up album. Bill Callahan tells us that “all these fine memories/ are fucking me down / I dreamed it was a dream that you were gone / I woke up feeling so ripped by reality.” So what is Eid Ma Clack Shaw? Here: “I fell back asleep / sometime later on / and I dreamed / the perfect song / it held all the answers / like hands laid on / I woke halway and / scribbled it down / and in the morning / what I wrote I read / it was hard to read at first / but here’s what it said: / “Eid Ma Clack Shaw…” Which either means nothing or means that there is no perfect song with all the answers to getting over someone which is fucking brilliant or means something else but I’ll take the middle answer.

36. Kurt Vile-Monkey: Heartfelt, sad love song to an upbeat tune: “Oh my darling I was born when I met you / if you don’t mind now / what’d I’d like / is could I get you / to redesign and redeliver me again.” Best comparison has to be Led Zeppelin—big guitars but not cliché, smart but not sappy lyrics. Later: “the other night you were away / I missed you so bad / I found me doing something desperate / I was so sad / I swore I held my own hand / pretending it was yours,” a line that rings true for anyone who’s ever had to work with a relationship over a distance.



35. Modest Mouse-Perpetual Motion Machine: This song reminds me of The Good Times Are Killing Me, the percussion begins as clapping hands (like, you know, actual ones as opposed to fake ones) and the whole thing has a fucking around in the studio feel to it. The song ends up as a cool little waltz with Isaac Brock talking about death—“everyone wants to be a perpetual motion machine / we all try harder as the days run out.”

34. The Dutchess and the Duke-Reservoir Park: Right, so, admissions first. Got this song from Aziz Ansari, who joked that he got it off of the end of an Entourage episode. Anyhow, doesn’t diminish how good this song is. It’s the same guitar I’ve been blabbing on about when I talked about the other D&D songs, and it’s even better here with more urgent vocals from the Duke. This is the Rolling Stones. But now.



33. Dirty Projectors-Stillness is the Move: Everyone’s favorite Dirty Projectors song, but not mine. Still very good though.

32. St. Vincent-Actor Out of Work: I think this is maybe the most direct track on Actor, there’s no Fantasia like opening to hide Annie Clark’s snarl here. The guitar work is similarly nasty, driving from the beginning.



31. Deer Tick-Friday XIII: How to creatively sing about not getting any: “I haven’t gotten the touch in a long long time / since Friday XIII Part 9: Going to Hell.” Then, somehow, the back and forth vocals between John McCauley III and Liz Isenberg turn this into a legitimate love song by the end. Awesome.

30. Atlas Sound (ft. Panda Bear)-Walkabout: How much music did I steal from Aziz Ansari this year? Ok, only two songs, this is the second. I never really dug on Atlas Sound/Deerhunter before this year but damn was I missing out. Throw that in on a collaboration with Panda Bear and you have a pretty fucking great song.



29. YACHT-Psychic City: The song that convinces you that you actually like this weird shit that YACHT puts out. Good stuff, catchiest song on the album, not quite dance pop but certainly not indie rock or even electronica. Just fun.

28. St. Vincent-The Strangers: Has a Feist/Mushaboom type feel to it and is just as good but much darker and with pretty fucking great guitar work on the end of it. Paint the black hole blacker indeed.



27. Joshua James-Coal War: A good old fashioned hymnal, I think. This sounds like something that could be sung in church, if you’re into that kind of thing, but catchier.



26. Modest Mouse-Satellite Skin: Nice juxtaposition of the normal rock song, here playing the vulnerable man: “well if you break these moth-wing feelings / well happy fucking congratulations.”



25. Coconut Records-Drummer: Who knew Jason Schwartzman wrote songs, and that they were actually good? This is great light pop, catchy and lyrically clever. Not to throw out Beatlesesque, but the tempo changes make this sound like a Sgt. Pepper’s song.

24. Kurt Vile-Dead Alive: This song makes me think they’re the 21st Century Zeppelin—great guitar, braggadocio, cleverness: “You tell me a good man is hard to find / well when you’re blind…” Later: “call me old dog when I’m gone / but when I’m there it’s always like / oh man where you been so long where you been so long.”

23. Monsters of Folk-Whole Lotta Losin’: Brilliant song finds a way to talk about all at once being cognizant of all the things you have, appreciating them, but still moving on and living your life (“Well I got a lot / but I got a lotta losin / one of these days I’ll be left with nothing / but memories and old times.”).

22. Animal Collective-Bluish: The closest thing to a love song you’re going to get from Animal Collective. Very, very well done.



21. St. Vincent-Marrow: Spoiler—One of my favorite albums of the year, yet no song is going to make the top 20. They’re all kind of held up and helped along by each other and this one is no exception.

My Favorite Songs of the Year 60-40

60. St. Vincent-The Bed: Fucking great opening line: “We’re sleeping underneath the bed / to scare the monsters out / with our dear daddy’s Smith & Wesson / we’ve got to teach them all a lesson.” Cuddly and haunting all at once, like a child telling a ghost story with a smile on their face.

59. M. Ward-Rave On: Must admit, did not know this was a cover until my parents told me (most notably performed by Buddy Holly, written by Sonny West). Unsurprising, as Ward has stated in interviews that he listens to much more old music than old, and this song fits him perfectly. “When you say ‘I love you’ I say ‘rave on!!!’”

58. Cass McCombs (ft. Karen Black)-Dreams Comes True Girl: McCombs shows his talent here, turning a lame sentiment into a catchy, cerebral song. The key is the opening line/chorus “you’re not my dream girl / you’re not my reality girl / you’re my dreams come true girl.” This is all sung over 60s guitar blips, fitting the ethereal mood perfectly. Then later, he comes up with another perfect couplet: “and all the troubles in my past / that’s just what they are girl,” which is a perfect reply that I should have thought of a long time ago.

57. Telekinesis-Rust: I fell in love with the first line, never looked back after that: “I’ve got a heart but it’s afraid to love / sometimes I think the damn thing’s full of rust.”

56. Animal Collective-Brothersport: To me, this is the most emotionally affecting song on an album full of empathy. Animal Collective manages to obscure a lot of the emotions that drive this album through the layered sounds present, but it’s hard to ignore an older brother pleading for younger one to open up after the death of their father. I wrote in January 09’ that I thought this is the sound that Vampire Weekend was trying for on their debut album, but could never reach. Maybe a little harsh on Vampire Weekend, but Animal Collective still deserves the lavish praise.

55. Camera Obscura-French Navy: Probably not as good as the best of Let’s Get out of this Country, but cool and I love the drum/guitar bursts at the beginning of the song.

54. Micachu-Calculator: Oh, Micachu, marry me. More of her weird guitar and random sounds, more sugary-sweet pop.

53. St. Vincent-Save Me From What I Want: Annie Clark paints perhaps her most vivid picture on Actor in this track: “The keys are in my pocket / and they / rattle you awake / 7th floor apartment / and a / fiery escape / but I’m a / wife in watercolor / I can wash away.” Save me From What I want, I think, is a story about trying to resist infidelity, and I think the most intriguing thing is Clark is able to tell this story without laying guilt anywhere or asking for pity.

52. St. Vincent-Laughing with a Mouth of Blood: Clark casually tells us she’s “laughing for a mouth of blood from a little spill I took,” before the chorus jumps in-- “all of my old friends aren’t so friendly / all of my old haunts are now haunting me”—with another wicked line, and they’re fucking hidden all over this album. Spend some time with it.

51. The Avett Brothers-January Wedding: Maybe the closest thing on I and Love and You to “old Avetts,” would fit right in on Mignonette. What does that mean? The words of a wistful romantic, a delicately plucked banjo, and the most earnest voice one could conjure.

50. Miniature Tigers-Cannibal Queen: Obviously I’m a sucker for good opening lines: “This is not a test or and SOS / I’m no longer on a quest to get girls undressed.” Also the sweetest song that features the word “cannibal” in the chorus (though Micachu’s “Eat Your Heart” expresses a similar idea in a different way).

49. M. Ward-Never Had Nobody Like You: Another timeless mid-tempo tune from M. Ward. Cool drums in the beginning that sound like the came off of “Jock Jams”, eminently catchy and fun.

48. Passion Pit-Moth’s Wings: Overarching, soaring, hints of something bubbling underneath (“you’re / just like your father / you’re / resting on your laurels / and stepping on my toes”), etc. Ridiculously catchy.

47. Harlem Shakes-Strictly Game: The sequel to Nothing but Change Part II has the singer in the middle of this change: “This will be a better year / make a little money / take a lotta shit / feel real bad / and get over it / oh / this will be a better year.” If The National is sad rock for people in their mid to late 20s, Harlem Shakes will comfort you on days where you actually feel upbeat and energetic. The Shakes somehow consolidate years of frustration into a 3 minute pop song: “I’m sick of slow rock / I’m sick of quick quips / I’m sick of holding onto nothing / when I just wanna / hold your hips.”

46. Harlem Shakes-Nothing But Change Part II: First song on their first (and presumably last) full length. “I know I’m just a singer / but I feel it in my fingers / but there are changes coming soon / nothing but change.” A great thing to hear in a year that, well, has been full of it. And yes, change isn’t necessarily good but luckily the albums follows with Strictly Game.

45. Andrew Bird-Fitz & the Dizzyspells: Most upbeat song on the Noble Beast, nice driving beat with more traditional guitar lines. Later evolves into more whistling and handclaps. A song where Andrew Bird really sounds like he’s having fun.

44. Andrew Bird-Not a Robot, But a Ghost: Frenetic and nervous, with Bird as a code breaker (or a different kind of fight-ender)— “I run the numbers through the floor / here’s how it goes / I crack the codes / I crack the codes that end the war.” Wouldn’t work without a sparse guitar line in the back and Bird’s trademark harmonization.

43. Rain Machine-Smiling Black Faces: There was a great interview on All Songs Considered with Kyp Malone where he talks about the delicate balance of telling the story of Sean Bell but not exploiting him. I’d say he does a pretty good job. Hard to not feel something with Malone’s feelings laid bare: “I know a slave’s name / and I know a cold shame / and I know I cried in disbelief”… “And when the gavel fell / over that bloody hell / everyone walked away / no one even got canned / This nation’s compromised / just shrugged and turned its eyes.” Malone’s poetry pulls you in, and makes you responsible in a way that you probably didn’t feel before.

42-40. Magnolia Electric Company-Josephine, Hope Dies Last, An Arrow in the Gale: Ok, all three of these go together, and it’s messing up my numbering but I’ll live. I’ve been following Jason Molina (at first Songs: Ohia and later Magnolia Electric Co.) since I was in high school, which is now disturbingly long ago. He crafts slow country rock which despite it’s pace has kept my attention. This trio of songs regards the album’s namesake, Josephine, who drifts in and out of the songs: “Some folks see the horizon / and never need to now how it all ends / leave the shadows behind / don’t go chasing after em’ / you locked the door and put them old records on / I hear you crying along / oh what a fool I’ve been / no more will / the final words / be the tears in your eyes / oh how I’ve tried / Josephine.” The trio of songs deals with Josephine, a want-away out of one of the many small towns Molina inhabits in his songs, and her man, seemingly older, trying to convince her to stay. An Arrow in the Gale, the album’s closer, is the final word on Josephine: “lightning on our tail we gotta run run run / lightning on our tail we better go, Jo / there’s an arrow in the gale and in the heartbeat / oh which one of us is free / Josephine…”

My Favorite Songs of the Year 80-61

80. M. Ward-For Beginners: The opener on Hold Time finds Ward doing what he does best-crooning with that amazing voice of his. Who cares what he’s saying, it just sounds so good. That said, hard to argue with: “They say the original sinners / never felt a drop of pain / until that second in the garden / then they felt it each and every day / so draw back your bows you hunters / who have never felt that flame / but the absolute beginners / they are safe in the shade today.” It ends up being a tribute to both innocence and the loss thereof, embracing the dignities and excitement of each.



79. The Antlers-Sylvia: Same deal as the other Antlers song at #85. That said, this is probably the saddest song on an album full of sad songs. I mean the thing is called Hospice for chrissakes, it’s not really built for uplifting singles. The chorus here really does soar though, even if you’re tearing up before it starts. Not that you’ll be any less forlorn as you sing along to a chorus of “Sylvia / get your head out of the oven / let me take your temperature / you can throw the thermometer right back at me / if that’s what you want to do / ok?” Yeesh.

78. Passion Pit-Sleepyhead: Sounds different than the rest of the album, has a nice sampling going on, jumps around a ton. Tempo changes really work here.

77. Andrew Bird-Effigy: I wrote a post earlier this year about the backlash to Andrew Bird’s Noble Beast. This song is a good example of both why that backlash came about, and also why it was undeserved. Effigy takes time to develop, and there’s no “climax” here per se, but what is there is a soliloquy about the person everyone has met in small town America, and the person none of us wants to be: “it could be you / it could be me / working the door / drinking for free / carrying on with your conspiracies / filling the room with a sense of unease / fake conversations on a nonexistent telephone / like the word of a man who’s spent a little too much / time alone.” Not only a worry about becoming that person, but the lost time involved therein. This is a soft, quiet song, which is fitting here, and represents a really great moment on the album.



76. Micachu-Golden Phone: I can’t describe this. It’s beautiful pop obscured and amplified by strange sounds that aren’t found anywhere else in pop music.

75. Dirty Projectors-Useful Chamber: Same shit as Remade Horizon except the beginning isn’t as cool but the chorus is fucking awesome. The kind of song that probably needs to be heard live. Need to do that. Also, it speaks to how strong the song is that I can last through six and a half minutes of it and not get bored.

74. Kurt Vile-Blackberry Song: A simple love song, great use of metaphor. I feel like I keep harping on this, but sometimes bands forget that you don’t need a ton of elements for a great song.

73. YACHT-Ring the Bell: The opener for See Mystery Lights does what all great openers do—sets the tone for the album, provides the mission statement (“Will we go to heaven / or will we go to hell / it’s my understanding / that neither are real”), and sounds really fucking good without giving the rest of the album away.



72. Neko Case-I’m an Animal: I’m a sucker for organ, which opens this song. This is a louder Neko song, but still hurting, with her trying to explain the limits of love prognostication— “yes there are things that I’m still quite sure of / I love you this hour / this hour this day” but then— “I’m an animal / you’re an animal too.”

71. The Dutchess and the Duke-Out of Time: I can’t get enough of the guitar sound they have here, it has a classic feel less like Jack White’s and a whole lot like the early Rolling Stones (I know I mentioned it earlier but it must be heard to be believed). They state a truism that applied back then and certainly applies now to those in their 20’s—“well ain’t you sick of hearing things are gonna’ work out / ain’t you sick of hearing things are gonna’ be alright / well somebody lied.”

70. Beirut-The Shrew: My mom likes this song, but it’s not her favorite of the year.

69. Harlem Shakes-TFO: I have no idea what he says in the beginning, but damn…this is a rousing chorus: “reel in / your feelings / we got time / we got time to waste some time now,” complete with soaring ooooooooh wah oooooooooooooohs as well. It’s a summer song, played at the beginning of the evening with the sun still setting, when anything is possible and everything that will happen will happen tonight.



68. Deer Tick-Straight into a Storm: Hi, my name is John Joseph McCauley III, and despite the fact I slowed this album down a little bit, here’s one where I’m gonna wail on guitar just to show you that I can. Also, it’s going to sound pretty fucking great. That is all.



67. Dan Auerbach-Trouble Weighs a Ton: I always liked the slower, more soulful Black Keys tracks, so no surprise here I love this opener featuring Auerbach, and acoustic guitar, and not much else.

66. A.C. Newman-The Changeling (Get Guilty): I may have slept on this album a bit, I think it got better over more listens. Anyhow, I liked this song from the beginning. Starts a little slow on the piano (like the rest of the album), but there’s more passion and dissonance coming through once the chorus breaks.



65. Monsters of Folk-Say Please: M. Ward may sing this one, but it has Jim James’ fingerprints all over it. An old fashioned southern rocker replete with a guitar solo that would fit right at home on any My Morning Jacket release.

64. Telekinesis-Coast of Carolina: Starts off like it’s recorded through an Iron & Wine-esque 4-track, then suddenly bursts into Technicolor 30 seconds in, and never stops. Twice as catchy as most guitar pop out there.

63. Phoenix-Armistice: Took me a while to get to this song, the last track on Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, but when I did, I kept coming back. Like most of the tracks on the album it’s near perfect. I think mostly I like this song because they worked the line “this is your signed armistice” into a chorus of a catchy track. Unreal. Only the French.

62. Megafun-Kaufman’s Ballad: Sounds like it belongs on the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack. Instead is some of the more harmonic singing since Crosby Stills and Nash were around.



61. Micachu-Vulture: Contains one of my favorite lines of the year (“Half of my leg is still in my coffee”), great lead track. Sounds cacophonous but comes together anyway over a distorted guitar and thunderous percussion. Great, high energy pop-rock.