Five years ago, I bought this record by merit of it being the only non-hip-hop record in my local record store’s selection of new vinyl (their selection has since improved greatly) and because of the owl on the front. Also, I thought I had heard something about the group on college radio. Nevertheless, when I first put the stylus into the groove, I had no idea what would come out of the speakers. I definitely was not, in the year 2007, expecting something that sounded like a George Harrison/Velvet Underground collaboration (in VU’s softer period, of course). The songs are delicately played, subtly sang, and hauntingly familiar–and when you’re dealing with British indie-pop, all of those qualities will work for your benefit.
Record #100: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (2005)
If you don’t already know and love this record, I’m not sure I can say anything to convince you.
Record #99: Black Lips – Arabia Mountains (2011)
The year is 1964, and the British Invasion has just begun. The Kinks get off of a plane to a throng of screaming fan and play the Ed Sullivan show, setting the all-time viewership record in the United States and becoming the most important band in the world. Years later, the Byrds, after dabbling in folk, rock, and psychedelia, move to the UK and pioneer a genre characterized by fast, brief songs, loud drums, and sneering vocals. The genre is dubbed “punk” by the press, and it spreads like wildfire.
Record #98: Beach House – Bloom (2012)
I’m back from vacation and in a new house with a slew of new records under my arm and the hi-fi set up in the living room. I’m ready to get on with this project.
First record back onto the saddle is Beach House’s new release, Bloom. As I mentioned earlier, Beach House makes some of the best dream pop around these days, existing in “the sweet spot between pop music and chill music where God intended dreampop to live,” (from my review of Teen Dream, way back on record #26). Bloom’s predecessor is one of my favorite records ever, a cloudy masterpiece of effervescence and ambiguity. Bloom has certain similar qualities; the sound of the record is nearly identical–nothing here would sound out of place on Teen Dream or vice versa–the same droning synthesizers and glassy slide guitars carry Victoria Legrand’s smoky, androgynous voice through the thick reverb coating the record.
Record #97: Charles Mingus – Oh Yeah (1962)
On Mingus’ The Clown, I referred to the composer/bandleader’s ability to balance beauty and chaos. On Oh Yeah, he eschews both the more pleasant side of that balance and his upright bass, leading a sort of post-apocalyptic blues album from piano.
Record #96: Charles Mingus – The Clown (1957)
Given that I’m not entirely sure how to best describe the perfect combination of chaos and beauty that is typical of Charles Mingus’ works, I’ll just leave this video of Haitian Fight Song, the best and most famous of the tracks here. Enjoy.
Record #95: Caveman – CoCo Beware (2011)
If you listen with a cynical ear, it would be easy to dismiss Caveman as just another Brooklyn based indie band playing mid-tempo jangly guitar rock with some keyboards thrown in for good measure. But among the throngs of indie-rock/psych-folk groups that found their genesis in the wake of Grizzly Bear’s success, Caveman stands a full head taller, and they were the only one I featured on my end-of-the-year list last year.
Record #94: Cat Stevens – Foreigner (1973)
Sometimes, my wife says it best. About eight minutes into the side-long Foreigner suite, she remarked, “Well, in terms of hit or miss, this is definitely a miss.” I asked her what she meant, and she gave me a number of answers, along the lines of, “it’s cheesy” and “it sounds like the music for some Sims Medieval video game.” She went on to remark, “it makes me want to listen to Flight of the Conchords, because they do stuff like this as a joke.”
Record #93: Cat Stevens – Teaser and the Firecat (1971)
Yesterday, I noted how much like a fairy tale Cat Stevens’ Tea for the Tillerman seemed. It’s ironic then that, while it shares a name with a children’s book written by Stevens, Teaser and the Firecat lacks the easy, story-like quality of its predecessor.
Record #92: Cat Stevens – Tea for the Tillerman (1970)
There are albums that are kind of like a spouse: you’ve played them so many times that you have every sound memorized, and you love them completely. Then, there are albums that are more like a crush: you love the idea of them, and every time you hear them, you fall in love, but you’re unfamiliar enough with them that it still surprises you.
I definitely have a crush on Tea for the Tillerman. But I’d definitely be down for getting a few cups of coffee with it to get to know it a little better.