Welcome to INAUDIBLE’s second installment of 5-10-15-20 in which I blatantly steal a feature from Pitchfork and ask fantastic people to talk about their musical love affairs at five year intervals. This second edition features Toronto based film editor/sound man/all around amazing dude, Stew Maclean waxing nostalgic about the songs and records that got him all fired up and ready to go.
I remember my brother Bart and I dancing around to this song a ton, but waiting for it on that old late night music video show (would have been a Detroit station cause we didn’t have cable) or on the radio. This might not have been exactly at age five but it’s really close and one of my first music memories. My love for it stemmed from a mix of us making fun of Bowie a bit but also because I had never really heard a song like this before.
AGE 10
My oldest brother Jay was just getting out of a huge classic rock phase at this time and he gave me his old tapes that he didn’t listen to anymore. Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath were my faves. I loved Zeppelin’s “Over The Hills And Far Away” from Houses of the Holy because of The Lord of the Rings, which I tried to read around this time but it was too difficult – instead the Ralph Bakshi animated LOTR movie was more up my alley. Also “Fairies Wear Boots” from Black Sabbath’s Paranoid was a song that Jay used to put on super super loud to pump himself up to write exams and the guitar really heated up my groin and it felt like it was something that I shouldn’t be listening to but that’s definitely what drew me to it.
AGE 15
This was another huge musical moment for me. Angel Dust by Faith No More. A couple of years before I had seen Mike Patton perform on Saturday Night Live and it was soooo cool. I thought he was the shit and Epic was a great album but Angel Dust blew it out of the water and I think I spent an entire year listening to this record. It totally changed the way that I looked at music because it was so different and it didn’t seem like an album because I never listened to it from start to finish (fucking tapes). It was also my third concert seeing them at State Theatre in Detroit and Mike Patton was still soooooo cool and I bought a shirt at the show and my parents never said anything about me walking around with a shirt that had angel dust written on it.
AGE 20
This was right around the time I started to become obsessed with the Morr Music label and that style of electronica. Arovane, Solvent, Phonem, Christian Kleine, Múm, The Notwist were all amazing! Also I remember going to bed every night listening to “Djed” by Tortoise on headphones from my boombox and I would always have great sleeps (man, whatever happened to those sleeps? The sleeps that dreams are made of Matt).
AGE 25
So obviously the electronic phase continued. I got into Boards of Canada from P-Dogg and Aphex Twin from Marc. I never did get to see any of those assholes live but I still loved ’em. They were both way different and way better and older than the other electronic stuff I was listening to. P-Dogg’s boundless enthusiasm for BoC was contagious and Marc would always say that Richard D. James invented a new style of electronic music. This was also right around the time that I started to move towards other genres of music and realized that guitars were still cool.
AGE 30
Having the luxury of Joaquim’s amazing stereo system that we rocked out to all the time helped me get into styles of music that I never thought I would. Genesis was the biggest and best of that time. The whole concept song/album thing really reminded me of the first time I heard Angel Dust by Faith No More. Also how fuckin’ cool was Peter Gabriel with the reverse mohawk hair? And listening to their live albums on vinyl on a $10,000 dollar stereo was a really easy sell.
It’s weird when I think about this list because there are a ton of other bands and musicians that I know I listened to as much if not more than the bands on this list but these are the ones closest to the age mark. Yes.
Hello. I’ve decided to blatantly copy a feature from Pitchfork that I enjoy called 5-10-15-20, in which they ask artists to talk about the music they loved at five year intervals in their lives. So without further ado, off I go into my musical past…
AGE 5
Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” is golden. I remember having a synchronized zombie stomp dance with my sister and we would always end up skipping the record player because we jumped around too much. I remember thinking “Billie” was a strange name for a girl, and I spent hours reading the lyrics and staring at the drawing of Paul McCartney and Michael fighting over the girl. I remember being terrified of the “Thriller” video and my Dad would laugh like Vincent Price and scare me more. In short, I was swept up in Michael mania — and it was like it was Halloween all the time, with this album and Ray Parker Jr’s “Ghostbusters” on heavy rotation on the radio as well.
Oh man, the days of Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky, C & C Music Factory, Tone-Loc, Young MC, Kid N Play, “It Takes Two” by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock, and of course the budding superstar of young Will Smith. I still own “He’s The DJ, I’m The Rapper” on cassette and consider it a classic in golden age hip hop. The Fresh Prince’s career as a rapper was quickly dwarfed by his hit TV show, but who can argue that “Summertime” still ain’t one hell of a jam? Word.
AGE 15
Wow, a lot sure changed in between the ages of 10 and 15. In those five years I went through an N.W.A. phase, that my parents nipped in the bud by taking away all my rap tapes and buying me a brand new CD player and a bunch of Led Zeppelin and Jethro Tull CD’s. I abandoned rap for classic rock and moved from Zeppelin to Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, and Smashing Pumpkins during the “grunge explosion”. Yet, by the time I was 15 I was starting to search for more “underground” bands. I found Clutch and Monster Magnet and fell in love with their angst and grooves. I would also discover Pavement and Eric’s Trip as well and begin a long love affair with “lo-fi indie rock” too. But, if I have to pick one, it’s got to be “Superjudge” by Monster Magnet. Stoner rock at its finest, Monster Magnet were with me the first time I smoked weed and my head expanded to sounds I never knew existed.
AGE 20
Again, so much music was consumed in this five year span. I was heavily into the post-rock scene via Slint, June of 44, Polvo, Seam, Versus, Trans Am, Gastr Del Sol, The Sea and Cake, and Tortoise. I also started getting into jazz and for some reason had an unhealthy obsession with Jamiroquai for a good two years. What can I say? I love to dance. But “TNT” by Tortoise is the perfect choice for this time period, as it sums up everything that was awesome about post-rock while teetering on the verge of electronica…which is where my musical progression would go in the next 5 years.
AGE 25
It took me a long time to get into electronic music, but when I did it became my entire world. I pretty much stopped listening to anything with guitars. This was an age of discovery for me — from Warp Records “leftfield IDM” stuff to Ninja Tune style breaks ‘n beats to minimal techno to smooth house. It was incredible, how a 4/4 beat could take me anywhere if I just closed my eyes and started dancing. Drugs may have helped the cause and helped my ears hear things in a different way, but once I did it felt odd that I wasn’t able to before. This is a hard one to choose, as I was deeply in love with Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, Plastikman, Theorem, Theo Parrish, and Vladislav Delay to name just a few. I also got heavily into dub reggae and fell back into hip hop during these years. Outkast! But I think the album that sums it all up at the age of 25 has gotta be “One Word Extinguisher” by Prefuse 73. Guillermo Scott Herren was like a god to me back then — he seemed so fresh, so versatile, so prolific — he was hip hop, electronica, techno, and pop all at once! And all of his various guises: Savath and Savalas, Delarosa and Asora, and Ahmad Szabo, let alone Prefuse! Yep, that shit was tops. Too bad he was never able to recreate that energy again…
AGE 30
Oh yes, a return to basics. At the time I was still listening to a lot of electronic music, but also a lot of ambient stuff like Marsen Jules, Gas, Loscil, and Donato Wharton. I was also falling in love with some mysterious dude named Burial, and a young kid named Peter Broderick. But it was my man Morrissey and The Smiths who brought it all full circle. A return to rock and roll. And nowadays, I listen to everything, there’s no genre exclusivity. I’m a goddamn sponge. Here’s looking forward to the next five years. That was fun. Peace.
Better late than never, INAUDIBLE is happy to present his 3rd annual end of year listy list!
2011 was a strange year for me musically — for the first year in probably fifteen I found myself listening to less music than normal. I felt I didn’t need to ceaselessly search out new music or always need to hear the next shit. This is not to say that music didn’t accompany me just about everywhere, it’s just that it felt different in a way it’s never felt before. Before I left for India this spring I loaded up my iPod with as much new music as possible, but while I was there I found myself listening to pretty much only one song in the morning and that was it (track to be disclosed below). I had fun listening to the Hindi equivalent of Rihanna and Tiesto while I was there, and when I returned it took a while for music (and everything else for that matter) to sound and seem fresh again. All this is to say, that this year I’ve decided to cut my list down substantially from years past, and simply index those albums that made me really, truly FEEL goddammit. And so without further ado, here they are.
Montrealer Graham Van Pelt has been making waves with his solo project Miracle Fortress since his 2007 debut album Five Roses earned him a Polaris Prize nomination, and found him channelling the pop sensibility of Brian Wilson. Four years later, and Van Pelt returned with Was I The Wave?, which earned him a second nod from the Polaris judges, and showcases a refined ear for production and his love for 80’s inspired electro pop. Van Pelt plays all the instruments on the record and shows himself adept at crafting catchy hooks and infectious melodies that beg you to play again and again. I can’t tell you how many times I listened to this album in the summer, racing my bike down the busy Toronto streets. It makes me feel young and carefree, and reminds me of Cut Copy circa In Ghost Colours. So enjoyable.
Hailing from Madison, Wisconsin, husband and wife duo, Peaking Lights, make sun-speckled dub pop psychedelia. The premise is simple: deep repetitive bass, catchy drum loops, extended grooves, and ethereal vocals that also work on repetition and cavernous echo. The result, 936: a perfectly blissed-out album for the warmer months, one that lingered in my head long after the album was played out. While not too far away compositionally from many dub techno artists like Rhythm and Sound or Deadbeat, Peaking Lights style diverges, because instead of going inward they go out — it’s still heady music, but as their name implies, they take the listener up up up, floating in a headspace above the clouds and the mountain peaks, a place where just enough light and warmth peeks through to make you smile. With 936, Peaking Lights have created groovy yet subtly romantic music that allows the listener to cheerfully zone out, and the result is surprisingly radiant.
Manchester’s Holy Other released the subterranean and slow-clip With U EP this year and I was immediately entranced by the mysterious producer’s dubby and slow motion house music. Earlier reviews likened Holy Other to Burial most likely because of the pitch-shifted vocal samples in each track, but perhaps also because this brief record, like Untrue, is the perfect soundtrack to be played on repeat in the chill-out room of some dark club. With U has that feeling of being heard from the other room, and although on the surface it sounds as if it fits snugly in the slower end of the dubstep scene, I call it more of a slowed down house, sure that if we cranked up the bpms, there’d be some serious bangers here. But instead, we get 20 minutes of bleak, moody gloom, and to my ears it’s never sounded sweeter.
After a busy year of critically lauded solo releases, NYC producers Travis Stewart (Machinedrum) and Praveen Sharma (Braille) merged talents to form Sepalcure, a duo that creates dub techno inspired music that sits nicely on the Hotflush roster, but also veers away from the sounds of Mount Kimbie, Scuba, Joy Orbison, or Burial, to produce a style that is all their own. The pair seem much more content to sound creative and fresh rather than fit comfortably in some sub-sub-genre. Vocals play a major role throughout, as they do on the best tracks of Stewart’s album Room(s), and are stretched out, reverbed, pitched, slowed down, and repetitive, which effectively creates track after track of catchy vocal hooks you’ll find yourself humming after the record’s played out. Sepalcure’s debut is an album that has grown on me over the course of the last months of 2011 and tracks like “The One”, “Eternally Yrs” and “See Me Feel Me”, make me feel a bit nostalgic, a bit futuristic, and a lot like shaking my ass in a sweaty club. So nice.
Adam Wiltzie, one half of ambient darlings Stars of the Lid, teamed up with composer Dustin O’Halloran, and together they crafted my favourite modern classical album of the year. The last time Wiltzie branched out without Brian McBride (his usual musical counterpart), was in 2004 when he released the stunning The Dead Texan album, and this new project is no different. A Winged Victory For The Sullen create richly emotive chamber music with an amazing grasp of space and atmosphere — and with the help of wunderkind Peter Broderick and cellist Hildur Gudnadottir (who’s worked with Múm, Pan Sonic, and Animal Collective), Wiltzie and O’Halloran have captured the essence of both minimal drone and melodic ambience while still working with piano and strings. “Steep Hills For Vicodin Tears” is probably the best example of their moody yet buoyant sound. A Winged Victory’s debut is one for quiet mornings and chilly nights.
Michigan native and neo-soul hero, Mayer Hawthorne released his sophomore album How Do You Do? on a big major label. And when I recently went home for Christmas, I heard lead single “The Walk” on a radio station that claims to play the best soft rock hits of yesterday and today. Yet, even though The Hawth has eschewed indie cred by leaving Stone’s Throw for Universal, his album still features more of that good time Motown music he did so well on his debut A Strange Arrangement. And to be fair, I think it is a stronger collection of songs overall. Hawthorne and his band shine brightest when they veer furthest away from emulating the Motown giants and instead use the influence of lesser knowns like The Delfonics or Bobby Womack. Moreover, Hawthorne seems to have also found inspiration in classic rock bands like Steely Dan and The Doobie Brothers as well, and it all works within the context of the album. “Can’t Stop”, Hawthorne’s vocal collab with Snoop Dogg is a hilariously earnest and sexy seduction track with a West Coast beat and big synth hook that is wildly infectious and funky and Snoop sounds just dope. Closing track “No Strings” is a fantastic ode to the one night stand, while “You Called Me” is the exact opposite, a song about a strong and loving relationship.
But doesn’t it sound kind of strange to hear Hawthorne croon: “…but your shitty fucking attitude has got me changing my mind” on “The Walk”? It’s a reverse anachronism, in which modern cuss words just don’t sound right in the “great times, good oldies” context Hawthorne does so well. But other than that, How Do You Do? is another strong collection of songs about love and lust from Hawthorne and The County. His music makes me feel like I’m in the backseat of my parents car listening to the oldies station, and is great for early night kitchen dance parties and late night make out sessions. Wooh.
UK masked beat-maker SBTRKT’s eponymous long player was an absolute grower, and one I found myself listening to on repeat during the warm summer months. The album features emotional vocals courtesy of collaborators Sampha, Roses Gabor, Jessie Ware, and Little Dragon, and even after first listen it’s obvious SBTRKT (real name Aaron Jones) spent a lot of time working with his talented vocalists, as the production is meticulous. This ain’t no postal service style collab he’s got going on with his vocalists; instead he had them in the studio, layering track upon track and making sure not a note was missed. It’s a soulful affair, working with elements of dubstep, drum and bass, garage, and bass music. For anyone who’s been to a club even once last year, you’ve probably heard hit single “Wildfire” blasting out of the speakers during the heart of the party, but for me “Hold On” is the track I had rocking on repeat more times than I’d like to admit. The whole album flows smooove and chill, and reveals a producer truly coming into his own.
Oliveray is the beautiful and understated collaboration of Nils (Oliver) Frahm and Peter (Ray) Broderick. Intermingling strings, pianos, acoustic guitar, and Broderick’s voice, this brief album is a candid and earnest collection of emotional songs by two very gifted songwriters. In my opinion, this is Broderick’s most moving work since his brilliant 2009 record Home. Based on improvisations and quiet late-night jam sessions, these songs reveal two young musicians working harmoniously in tandem, and their songs bring to mind everyone from Labradford to Mark Kozelek. “You Don’t Love” is faintly reminiscent of “Have You Forgotten” by Red House Painters in the way Broderick sings “How can you love me if you don’t love yourself?”, and closing track “Dreamer” is heartbreaking in its simple execution of guitar and sparse piano and Broderick’s lyrical emotion. So yeah, in short, this album makes me feel a whole lot. In the morns on the way to work, in the eves while reading and chilling out, this album rewards repeat listens, and truly deserves to be loved by more people. Check it.
New Jersey native Martin Courtney and his bandmates returned in 2011 with their sophomore album Days, a much tighter and fulfilling record than their 2009 self-titled debut. It’s an album that displays what a difference a few years on tour can do when it comes to becoming a tighter and more dynamic band. Still, the songs on Days are sparse and minimal, all dragging their heels at the same introspective clip, yet at the album’s best moments, this creates a sort of tranquil, hypnotic effect one can use to let thoughts drift about the halcyon days of youth. It’s “Range Life” by Pavement for the Dot-com generation, and for me that’s perfectly fine. This album holds a special place in my heart, mainly because it was the record I listened to most upon leaving Toronto and moving back to Montreal. It was a perfect fall album, one that I had on repeat for all of October as I rode my bike, exploring the city, watching the leaves turn and slowly fall from the trees. The strongest tracks on the album “Out of Tune”, “Green Aisles”, and “Younger Than Yesterday” reveal the band’s ability to craft catchy songs with just a brief guitar lick and showcase Matthew Mondanile’s excellent work on lead guitar.
I recently saw the band play in Montreal at La Sala Rossa and they did a solid job of jamming out their new album, but I find their music is more enjoyable at home or in transit, as the samey-ness of their songs did drag on a bit at the show. Nevertheless, Real Estate are excellent songwriters adept at crafting great slow rock tunes that remind me of Pavement, Bedhead, and Yo La Tengo, and make me feel relaxed while comfortably yearning for autumns come and gone.
Philadelphia singer/songwriter, Kurt Vile released the excellent Smoke Ring For My Halo in the spring of last year, and it’s been on constant rotation in my living room ever since. Smoke Ring is definitely an immersive experience, offering up the best of Americana, reminiscent of Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, and the finest folk and lo-fi rock and roll. The beauty is in the subtlety and strength of his songwriting. Vile’s lyrics are dark and lonesome, delivered in a laconic style that’s all his own. He tends to drag out words or syllables providing the perfect counterpart to his skilled finger-plucking or guitar strums.
Vile also seems to be working with the idea of restraint here, as many of the songs could easily blow up into full out jams, yet he and his backing band The Violators rarely let this happen. There is however a great fuzzy climax to “On Tour”, but even here the distortion never gets carried away — the listener is able to feel the closing kick, yet still be privy to the swirling combination of keyboard, harp, slide guitar, and mellotron orbiting Vile’s guitar. It’s truly great stuff. Tracks like “Runner Up”, “Peeping Tomboy”, “Baby’s Arms”, and “Ghost Town” are slow, sparse, and poignant, and reveal Vile’s adeptness at being one of the best songwriters out there. He creates more than just mood here, he’s created a listening experience in the classic sense, one in which you put the album on and languidly float off for 45 minutes in Vile’s sonic yet relaxed musical realm.
OK, now we’re getting down to the nitty gritty. For those of you who failed to read my discloser at the beginning of this post, please let me remind you…I have decided to choose only those albums that truly made me feel, sigh, pang, pine, shiver, and smile. And Justin Vernon’s sophomore full-length under the Bon Iver moniker does all the above for me. It’s a brilliant and courageous album, with confident songwriting and sophisticated production. For those fans who for some reason were hoping for another sad-dude-with-guitar-writes-album-in-woods deal, they were disappointed, as Vernon ventured far away from the aching melancholy of For Emma, Forever Ago. One reviewer stubbornly believes Vernon totally overdid it in a desperate attempt to distance himself from his debut, and even goes so far as to compare his production skills to that of Enya! C’mon, really?
But for this listener, I find it unfair to expect musicians to feel obliged to maintain a certain style or sound over a series of records simply because that’s what the fans want. And to be sure, many musicians make their careers on the same three chords, but here Vernon has pushed further out into the textures of sonic space, and shows how much his musical palette has diversified in the four years since For Emma. Hell, he was already experimenting with Autotune on Blood Bank before he even hooked up with Kanye, so for me I see it as a natural progression of a true musician.
Sure, one could argue that Vernon is almost too ambitious with this album, but in the end (even with closing track “Beth/Rest”) I think he succeeds. I remember the first time I played this album out in full, it was a somewhat bleak Sunday afternoon and I was putzing around my apartment and “Beth/Rest” started and I literally began laughing out loud. “What the fuck is this? Phil Collins? Kenny Loggins?” I laughed. I called my friend Jeff and he too made a similar comparison and quipped that Vernon was getting all saxy! It’s true, the track seemed way way out of place, but a month or so later, somewhere on the road between Kingston and Montreal, while riding the Megabus, the song hit me the way Vernon intended it to, and now I like it. Yes, it’s cheesy, yes it’s off putting, but as Vernon has said, he just really likes singing it, and apparently makes sure to play it at all live shows with all its Bruce Hornsby-esque embellishments intact, just to annoy the haters. Nice.
It seems he’s also trying to fill the void left in the wake of Sufjan Stevens getting too “weird” on last year’s The Age of Adz, as opening track “Perth” could have easily been lifted from Stevens’ earlier discography. With this album, Bon Iver sounds so much more a band than a solo project, tracks like “Minnesota, WI” and “Towers” are full and groove well . . . and his voice! From lower spectrum to high, no one sounds like Vernon, and if anything his voice has gotten only stronger since For Emma. But for me, the best tracks are the most spare, for example “Michicant” is stunning in its simplicity with all its subtle flourish, and “Wash.” uses piano, strings, and slide guitar to brilliant effect. Sincerely, this album deserves to be as critically heralded as it was throughout 2011. It’s a haunting and mature collection of songs that makes you feel like getting momentarily lost, while still knowing exactly where you want to go.
Burial returned with his first new material since 2007’s Untrue, and made it in my top five with just a three song EP. Like Boards of Canada, Burial is clever in that he knows how to keep his fans waiting. He doesn’t flood the market with new tunes or remixes, and (again like BoC) his absence spawned dozens of imitators, but no one sounds like him. And so, Burial returned with three long-awaited songs, treading the same dark territory of his earlier work, yet perhaps with just a hint of influence from house and techno. Perhaps Four Tet’s style rubbed off on him a bit, as seen in the shuffling 4/4 and deep bass of “Street Halo“. This song is positively subterranean. It seems designed for shaking your ass and grinding your teeth on a pitch black dance floor. There’s even a few moments where he flirts with trancey strings, pulling them subtly up in the mix, just enough for you to acknowledge them, before they get sucked back into the crushing bassline. It’s beautifully dark stuff.
All the tracks feature his trademark use of vocals, and “NYC”s repetitive hook “this is love…when I’m around”, creates some serious emotion, as the track clods around at a much slower and pensive beat than the album’s two other tracks. “NYC” is moody, and mournful. Rainy day stuff, in which you forgot your umbrella, and have to walk five blocks home from work, but you don’t mind the rain hitting you in the face, you don’t mind feeling cold and damp.
Closing track, “Stolen Dog” is my hitter. It is my favourite song of the year, folks. And I’ll tell you why. Way up there at the beginning of this post, I mentioned that while I was in India last summer I barely listened to any music, even though my iPod was jam packed. But there was one song that I found myself listening to every morning while I was in Kolkata, and it was “Stolen Dog”. The track is just unbelievably emotional. My first morning in Kolkata, I awoke at 4:30 a.m. to the sound of someone singing the morning prayers, which in turn woke up all the birds, which in turn marked the beginning of the cacophony of sounds that is urban India.
I was staying at a hostel that had a nice courtyard that was fenced in and tucked away from the road, creating a haven from the hectic streets. So I would sit on a bench and watch all sorts of strange and exotic birds fly around in the green of the courtyard, hear the blaring of traffic from the street, and listen to “Stolen Dog”. That first morning, jet-lagged and anxious, the song hit me so hard, it was all I could do to not burst into tears. The vocal hook practically punched me in the chest. And so, it became my morning soundtrack while I was in Kolkata, and I will never be able to listen to it without remembering that trip. And so, that is why this album features so highly on the list, because Burial just knows how to do it right. He still knows how to breathe new life into his bag of familiar samples and tricks and I look forward to more material from him in 2012!
Swedish trio Tape have been making music since 2000, but it took them a decade to hit my radar with the release of their fifth long player, Revelationes. And indeed the album is a revelation — taking cues from post-rock, modern classical, electronica, folk, jazz and minimalism. The group is made up of brothers Andreas and Johan Berthling with Tomas Hallonsten, and although their music plays out as vaguely familiar, they have carved out a sound that is all their own.
There’s an emotional element to this album that grows in strength with each successive listen, and I find I get wistfully lost in each track. For example, I’ll be listening to “Companions” and enjoying the soft guitars and swirling synth, and think the next track cannot possibly be as enchanting . . . and then “Hotels” starts, and I’m quickly swept into that beautiful little sketch of sound, and think again that this must be the album’s perfect moment, but then “The Wild Palms” begins, and the whole process starts again.
Earlier reviews mention Tortoise and even Slint as markers of style, and what’s funny is, while those are two of my favourite and arguably most-listened to bands of the past fifteen years, while listening to Revelationes, those two groups don’t spring to mind. And while I won’t deny the reference points, Tape sound so much more part of the now — more akin to contemporaries like Helios, Emanuele Errante, Benoit Pioulard, and the quieter moments of Animal Hospital.
Revelationes is very song-based, each track can stand on its own, yet they all play out beautifully as a whole. The album is very economical, running at just over a half an hour, and it is still offering up new sounds and emotions the more I put it on. This is definitely one to check out, and Tape is a band that deserves a much larger fan base. Delightful.
So…getting back to that old disclaimer at the beginning about feelings and shit. Yeah, this is a weird one. And it took me awhile to actually admit that it is in fact my favourite album of the 2011. Probably because I have no idea how to describe it…dirty trance electro hip-pop? All I can tell you is, Araabmuzik‘s Electronic Dream excited me like no other album this year. I don’t think I have ever rode my back faster than when listening to “AT2”, it made me feel practically invincible. A fist pumping, spine-tingling collection of hard-hitting, yet aesthetically pleasing bangers.
Does it border on cheesy at times? Hell yes, but that’s part of its charm, and the machine gun snare pops, dirty hip-hop drum programming, nods to AFX, and uber-crisp production completely make up for any weird trance-pop transgressions. For me, it’s one of the few albums that have really hit hard and kept its appeal after many listens. “Streetz Tonight” is a perfect example of what the young producer is trying to do with this album: craft a catchy as all hell song with a banging beat. He has this knack for always grounding the track firmly in the rhythm…just as soon as the song seems to be veering off into all out trance, he drops the beat back in like an anchor. It’s a technique he uses again and again on Electronic Dream and I have yet to grow tired of it. Also, I love his token “You’re now listening to Araabmuzik” digital watermark. I don’t find it pompous at all, I think it’s hilarious, and just another way to effectively ground the chaos of each song.
2011 was a year of change for me. A year where I left my home in Toronto of 4 years to begin anew, in an attempt to really, truly become that adult I’ve been saying I kinda think I am for the last few years now. And when I arrived in Montreal to stay, I was taking the Metro to my friends Mike and Jacquelyn’s place, and I put opening track “Electronic Dream” on my iPod, and the weight of everything came crashing down. I felt like I had abandoned my life…and for what? I thought of all my amazing friends and family in Toronto, I thought of the lovely and sketchy neighbourhood of Parkdale that I had just shrugged off like an annoying beggar…four years of my life flitted by from one metro station to the next, and I became overwhelmed, and had to get off two stops early in order to keep myself in check. I felt the pang, the sigh, the yearn, the pull…and it was Araabmuzik that was the soundtrack to that powerful and significant moment of the year 2011, and fuck if it wasn’t a memorable one. More please.
I sure slept on this one. But once I finally gave it a listen I was hooked. Absolutely amazing songwriting. Best description I can give it: Rock and fucking Roll. But that’s the best thing about music, it doesn’t matter when you get into it, just that you do. I look forward to their next album.
Montreal’s own CFCF née Michael Silver just keeps on getting better both as a musician and producer — refining his tastes and dropping these stellar Night Bus mixes, which he plays live at Blizzarts on the occasional Thursday. Check out the second incarnation below. So good!
Adam Wiltzie, one half of ambient darlings Stars of the Lid, teams up with composer Dustin O’Halloran, and crafts what is arguably the finest modern classical album of the 2011. The last time Wiltzie branched out without Brian McBride (his usual musical counterpart), was in 2004 when he released the stunning The Dead Texan album, and his new project is no different. A Winged Victory For The Sullen create richly emotive chamber music with an amazing grasp of space and atmosphere — and with the help of wunderkind Peter Broderick and cellist Hildur Gudnadottir (who’s worked with Múm, Pan Sonic, and Animal Collective), Wiltzie and O’Halloran have captured the essence of both minimal drone and melodic ambience while still working with piano and strings. “Steep Hills For Vicodin Tears” (below) is probably the best example of their moody yet buoyant sound. Available from the always fantastic Kranky Records, A Winged Victory’s debut is one for quiet mornings and chilly nights. Check it and check it again. Peace.
It’s rainy, grey, and unseasonably cold over here in Toronto today. And so it’s turned into a clean the house, do the laundry kind of afternoon. Of course, all that really means is listening to music way too loud. To coincide with the murk and drear out my window, I’ve been listening to FRKTL‘s dark debut album, Atom. FRKTL is the music project of the multi-talented Sarah Badr, and while her first album does have some missteps, it also has some absolutely brilliant moments. The strongest tracks on Atom are the quiet ones…when the songs veers off into glitch, noise, and Autechresque abstraction they tend to lose me, but the more ambient tracks are emotive, brooding, and amazing. I’d love a whole album of this type of thing. Regardless, FRKTL’s music is worth a listen. Great stuff happening well below the radar. Check it.
For those who know William Basinski’s work, his Disintegration Loops series has a mythic quality to it, forever tied to the events of September 11th, 2001. As the story goes: Basinski was archiving some old recordings from tape to digital, and the cassettes were in such bad shape that while he was doing so, the magnetic tape was literally disintegrating, falling apart in front of his eyes – yet what he records is brilliant, haunting, moving, accidental, and some of the finest neo-classical/ambient music ever released. To further add to the story, Basinski was listening to the playbacks of his transfers in his apartment in New York as the events of September 11th unfolded, and the loops became a sort of soundtrack to the horror that he witnessed that day.
And because this story is mentioned in practically every review of The Disintegration Loops, I too cannot help but link the music to New York, destruction, and that day ten years ago. It’s crazy to think that a decade has passed since that fateful morning – but even though it feels as if those years flipped by in a daydream, it also feels like a hell of a long time ago. I was 23 years old, and riding across town on the bus to school when the first plane hit. When I arrived on campus, my girlfriend came running up to me with tears in her eyes, saying that someone had bombed New York. Insensitive and ignorant, I made a crass remark (which I later believed led to the start of a downward shift in our relationship). She had visited New York in July of that year and had been in the World Trade Center for a tour or something, and all she kept saying was that cute little old man who worked in the elevator was dead.
Again, I shrugged it off – this being before the days of smartphones and immediate everything – because I had no idea of the true magnitude of what had just occurred. I left her to grab a coffee before class and went into the student centre and only then actually saw what had happened on TV and was dumbfounded. It exceeded all imagination and is still one of the most unbelievable things I have ever seen. I knew then how terribly thoughtless I had been when talking to my girlfriend, and I wanted to run and go find her, apologize, hug her, kiss her, but I was rooted in place, glued to the TV.
And of course, this led to an incredible ideological shift in all of my thoughts on the world as (I thought) I knew it. I’d recently been getting into the concepts of social justice and democracy, and had always swayed left and enjoyed a good conspiracy theory, but that day just blasted everything wide open. And even though I was in Canada when the towers went down, it still felt like it was happening to us; perhaps my closeness with/to Detroit had something to do with it … yet what’s funny is after 9/11 I didn’t go to Detroit for an entire year, when before I used to go almost once a week. Things changed, that’s for sure. And so much more than I can articulate in this silly little blog post. What disappoints me is that until about 2006 I was motivated in the struggle for people to be treated fairly and for our societies to function democratically, but then I got tired, I stopped going to all the websites, stopped engaging in political discussion, started to tune out. I guess I could argue now that I was busy doing graduate work and writing about dead people, but that’s the perfect excuse isn’t it?
Like Basinski’s loops my resolve disintegrated, yet fortunately, like his loops everything is cyclical. Life has an interesting way of coming full circle…and so as another migratory shift is about to begin in my life, perhaps that will be the spark for several others. September 11th was historic for many reasons, and I believe that holding on to the personal reasons that made it historic for you should still be just as important a decade later as they were on that fucked up day.
As I listen to The Disintegration Loops on this chilly September morning, Basinski’s music still proves just as absorbing and beautiful as ever, and my thoughts go out to the family and friends of all those lost at Ground Zero. Peace. Listen below and watch footage filmed by Basinski from his rooftop…
I slept on this one for a few months, but am glad I finally checked it out because masked beat-maker SBTRKT’s eponymous long player is an absolute grower, and features emotional vocals courtesy of collaborators Sampha, Roses Gabor, Jessie Ware, and Little Dragon. Even after first listen it’s obvious SBTRKT (real name Aaron Jones) spent a lot of time working with his talented vocalists, as the production is meticulous. It’s a soulful affair, working with elements of dubstep, drum and bass, garage, and bass music. Definitely one to check out before the summer’s through.
Araabmuzik – Electronic Dream (Duke Records)
I don’t even know how to classify this shit. Dirty trance electro hip-pop? All I can tell you is, Araabmuzik’s Electronic Dream offers up some of the most exciting tracks of the year. Does it border on cheesy at times? Hell yes, but that’s part of its charm, and the snare pops, dirty hip-hop drum programming, nods to AFX, and uber-crisp production completely make up for any weird trance-pop transgressions. For this listener, it’s one of the few albums that have really hit hard and kept its appeal after many listens. Worth checking out, no doubt!
For those of you in TORONTO, these two producers are playing a show together in November at The Hoxton. Check out the details of this not to be missed show right HERE! Cheers.
Graham Van Pelt has been making waves across the pond in Montreal, Quebec for half a decade now, first in the much loved dance pop band Think About Life, and currently in his solo project, Miracle Fortress. His 2007 debut album Five Roses earned him a Polaris Prize nomination (the Canadian equivalent of the Mercury Prize), and found him channelling the pop sensibility of Brian Wilson. Four years on, and Van Pelt has returned with Was I The Wave?, earning him a second nod from the Polaris judges, and showcasing a refined ear for production and his love for 80’s inspired electro pop.
Van Pelt wears all hats on his new album (composer, arranger, producer, and engineer), and proves quite adept at soaring melodies — the perfect hook and infectious chorus seem to come naturally to him — matched with an assured display of vocals. Unlike his debut, which relied mainly on indie-rock guitars, Was I the Wave? is essentially an electronic offering, using big synths as the through line, with guitars working as the secondary rhythm.
“Tracers” is an excellent example of this compositional shift, starting with a guitar lick and simple drum machine loop for the first thirty seconds, until Van Pelt drops an 808 synth line that sounds almost like late 90’s Detroit techno, before he swings it back with his voice. “Tracers” sets the mood and groove quite nicely for following track “Raw Spectacle”, which sounds a lot like Cut Copy circa In Ghost Colours, with its stabbing synth, processed vocals, and brilliant build up to a pulsing and exciting chorus. “Everything Works” follows, and seems to be where the album starts to become more buoyant and warm, using an enjoyable bass hook to get your head bobbing, with vocals so contagious you’ll be humming along before you even know the words.
The mid-point of the album features two brief ambient pieces that offer a nice respite before Van Pelt amps it back up with album highlight “Miscalculations”, a guitar based track that is reminiscent of Toto, Men at Work, and Depeche Mode. Van Pelt’s melodies throughout are undeniable — they’re catchy but subtle, and his formulaic switch up from 60’s beach pop to 80’s new wave is refreshing, it shows he’s an artist still growing and one who gets stronger with each release. There’s an intimate feel to “Was I the Wave?” that reveals itself slowly, and with great production and impossibly catchy hooks, once revealed, only makes the album all that much enjoyable.
Miracle Fortress’s Was I The Wave? is the perfect album for the last days of summer and the coming autumn. Check it.
Hailing from Madison, Wisconsin, husband and wife duo, Peaking Lights, make sun-speckled dub pop psychedelia. The premise is simple: deep repetitive bass, catchy drum loops, extended grooves, and ethereal vocals that also work on repetition and cavernous echo. The result: a perfectly blissed-out album for the summer months, one that will linger in your head long after the album’s played out.
Since the duo spent some time in California and record on the intriguing Not Not Fun label, an immediate comparison can be to fellow labelmate Sun Araw, who operates in the same hypnotic manner, but while “936” leans heavily on reggae and dub influence for groove, it also pays homage to lo-fi psychedelic rock, and even though the tracks on “936” are deep and sludgy, they still manage to feel open and airy. The songs wander, joyfully going nowhere in particular for up eight minutes, and you’ll be right there with them, bobbing your head and grinning.
Take “Tiger Eyes (Laid Back)” for example. Aaron Coyes drops a simple drumbeat, anchors it with a deep bassline for riddim, and tosses in some light guitars, while Indra Dunis provides some haunting, trance-induced vocals and gentle bursts of keyboard. It’s a serene eight minute head-nodder, perfect for afternoon drives down scenic highways — where you’re sitting in shotgun and the windows are down and you’ve got your feet up on the dash, and an arm out the window fighting the wind — and you’re smiling, looking over at your friend driving — he’s wearing a pair of old Ray Bans, and he’s playing the steering wheel like a drum, and honking the horn in time to the beat, while he points out useless historical landmarks along the side of the sun-drenched road as you zip by…
While not too far away compositionally from many dub techno artists like Rhythm and Sound or Deadbeat, Peaking Lights style diverges, because instead of going inward they go out – it’s still heady music, but as their name implies, they take the listener up up up, floating in a headspace above the clouds and the mountain peaks, a place where just enough light and warmth peeks through to make you smile. With “936”, Peaking Lights creates groovy yet subtly romantic music that allows the listener to cheerfully zone out, whilst also playing with the notion of summer nostalgia, and the result is surprisingly radiant. Check it.
INAUDIBLE 
