There are a handful of records that I put on if I just want to drown in texture, without being barraged by coherent lyrics or rhythms. Those records are Victorialand by Cocteau Twins, In a Silent Way by Miles Davis, Loveless by My Bloody Valentine, and this, Brian Eno’s first effort of creating ambient music that is, as he says, “as ignorable as it is interesting.”
Record #70: Brand New – Daisy (2009)
Giving this album its first listen, my roommate looked at me perplexed and asked, “When did Brand New become These Arms are Snakes?” It’s a valid question—Brand New’s first two albums spend so much time putting LiveJournal-worthy insults and teen-movie drama to pop punk, and the music itself gives almost no hints as to what happened between Deja Entendu and The Devil and God to get Jesse Lacey to forget about his beef with Taking Back Sunday and focus inward and upward. But after the somber theology of The Devil and God, Daisy is not a surprise at all.
Record #69: Brand New – The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me (2006)
I had written three ill-formed paragraphs about how emo was my musical center and how this album, with its brave questions and ruminations on spiritual matters and of lead singer Jesse Lacey’s spiritual shortcomings, as well as the band’s excellent mastery of mood, was one of the biggest influences in my own songwriting. But I can never not say too much about this album. It changed my life, and there’s hardly any way to write eloquently about that.
Record #68: BRAIDS – Native Speaker (2011)
BRAIDS hit me like an infection. I heard the arpeggio guitar loop of Lemonade in a mashup and set about ravenously searching for what on earth it was. When I heard the song, I then looked for the album online. After hearing it once, I ordered the record, and then had it on constant repeat on my iPod for the next two weeks. And here, months later, after knowing every melody and every sound and every turn the music takes, the album constantly proves its staying power and ever-present freshness.
Record #67: Bonnie Tyler – Faster Than The Speed Of Night (1983)
I don’t know what exactly it is about 80s female-led pop-rock that makes me love it so much. It has all the telltale production–gated drums, chorused bass, metal tinted lead guitar lines everywhere, piano arpeggios–as well as voices bigger than the hair they wore.
Record #66: Bon Iver, Bon Iver (2011)
The years between 2007 and 2011 were rather significant for Justin Vernon, the man behind Bon Iver. His debut album had been picked up by a label, and launched him into international (indie) stardom.
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Record #65: Bon Iver – Blood Bank EP (2009)
After Justin Vernon came out of his cabin in the woods with his solo debut, he also came out of the minimalist confines that the instruments in his solitude offered him. Blood Bank EP is meager in tracks, but rich in content.
Record #64: Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago (2007)
When I first heard For Emma, Forever Ago, I was a folk singer. And most of my inspiration came from the old country of Johnny Cash and Emmylou Harris, as well as the humble figerpickings of Sufjan Stevens and Damien Rice. But I was listening to so much else–Radiohead, Sigur Ros, mewithoutYou–but my musical pallet didn’t have room for too much outside of an acoustic guitar, harmonica, banjo, voice, and occasional trumpet or drum set.
Then I heard Bon Iver.
Record #63: Bob Dylan – Shot of Love (1981)
I have played this record only once besides this listen, and it was the day I got it, after which it was quickly shelved. I remember it being pretty terrible, but I don’t exactly remember why. I’m being reminded a little bit now, though. While it maintains largely the same format as Saved, the arrangements, which were so subtle on Slow Train Coming and so masterfully executed on Saved, are sloppy in comparison. This backing band lacks both the control and the exuberance of the groups that accompanied Dylan on his last two outings. It crosses the line into hokey territory quite often, and it doesn’t help the songwriting.
Record #62: Bob Dylan – Saved (1980)
While Slow Train Coming saw Dylan expanding his folk palette with progressive rock and gospel colors, Saved is almost exclusively a gospel record. The restraint shown by its predecessor is often shed entirely, and background singers, Hammond organs, pounded pianos, and raucous tempos are par for the course here, with Dylan himself even improvising vocal fills between lines like he’s wearing a robe and swaying along in the choir box. Continue reading