10. The Gaslight Anthem: Handwritten (July 2012/ Mercury)
Kicking off the list are gruff tattoo-toting,
good-time-having New Jersey boys The Gaslight Anthem. Having carved out for
themselves a slice of punk-pop-rock slotting in somewhere between Bright Eyes
and the E-Street Band, main man Brian Fallon and co have produced a sound that
is intriguing yet familiar. Album opener “45”
is a corker; a spirited, bouncy track, dedicated to young love and the tenacity
of good friends when they’re needed most. There really is no better way to open
an album, and generally Handwritten
is a bit more beefy than their last effort, the deft American Slang.
Though that’s not to say it’s a flawless album.
Fallon’s incessant ‘wah-ho’s and ‘na-na-na’s on every chorus becomes a tad
trying, and the lyrical content, namely the somewhat gushy tales of lost
romance and forlorn reveries, hasn’t budged an inch since the band released
their first album in 2007. Theres nothing wrong with Rock music having a heart,
it’s just things are all getting a bit woos-y. Man up Brian you big Nelly. Still there are plenty of highlights on the
album to ensure it stands up to the bands previous work. Here Comes My Man is breezy and clever, and Mae is a highly effective and inspired take on Tom Petty’s I Won’t Back Down. Better still is the
quiet National Anthem; the most
original and interesting song Fallon has ever produced. It never quite exceeds
their excellent breakout, ‘The ’59 Sound’,
and you can’t help but wonder exactly how long they can keep writing songs like
this. Not like we can expect them to start writing about Martian hula-dancers
on a voyage to Grimsby town, its just all this yearning is getting a bit much.
Download: "45"
9. Alt-J: An Awesome Wave (2012/ Infectious)
The success of Alt-J’s debut An Awesome Wave is one of the rare examples of hype and positive
press being goaded into the right direction. Splicing together the electro-grit
of the glitch movement, the atmospherics of trip-hop and seriously distorted
guitars, Alt-J prove an intriguing proposition. There is some real quality on this first
effort, and what is most impressive, beyond the band being formed at Leeds University, is the bands ability to diversify. It’s
pretty progressive stuff but the lads do sometimes get it wrong and
end up just sounding a bit daft. Take the instrumental ‘interludes’ that break
up the album. While Intro really
draws you in with some ponderous guitar plucking coupled with twinkling piano,
the first proper interlude, Interlude 1,
is a ruddy great mess, with some kind of
weird choral chant that comes across less like Queen and more like a choir of
clucking hens in a bin bag. This
pseudo-camp is also prominent on Breezeblocks,
a Raidohead-esque stab at indie rock that proves to be a jangly lyrically-vacant non-event. Yet that is only half the story.
Tesselate clangs with a tremendous stabbing of piano, and a trip
backbeat, along with some deviously twisted guitar work and grimy synth layers.
“Till morning comes/ Let’s tessellate”
sings frontman Joe Newman, in a surprisingly effective croon, though one that
is rarely sustained. Essentially Joe
Newman is the best and worst thing about the album. He truly has a unique vocal
style that rings of Thom Yorke, Jeff Buckley and even Grizzly Bear, and he’s able
to twist his vocal attributes in some truly interesting ways. However other
times Newman comes across more like the Cookie Monster with a battered crack
pipe where his gullet should be. Similarly the lyrical content is often wholly erratic
and generally a bit of an afterthought . Estocada
is a good example of this; while musically it is interestingly arranged and it
progresses organically, you never really have any idea what the bloody hell is
going on. This is hardly helped by front-man Newman dipping into some of his more
guttural tones, and he comes across a bit funny when he’s going on about “something good tonight/ make me forget about
you for now” , sounding like Charles Manson allotting his victims a few
more days of life after encountering a particularly satisfying liquorice
allsort.
Similarly Alt-J have adopted the new found tradition in indie music of
making drum beats by rattling about a couple of teaspoons in a coffee cup; a
technique that Friendly Fires can make work but that sounds stupid anywhere
else. Still, the punchy euphoria of Dissolve
Me is a success, and Fitzpleasure
frazzles with a sort of frantic energy that can’t be denied, even if again it’s
lyrical content is impenetrable either because it’s incredibly deep and
labyrinthine or maybe just shit. Similarly Matilda
is a gorgeous little gem of a track, slow and uplifting with a lovely
sing-a-long chorus. And then there is
the wonderfully contrived Taro which
sounds like something straight out of Bollywood, seemingly choreographed to
that hand-waving dance that seems popular in the Far East. There is plenty
going for Alt-J and indeed they should be credited for having the stones to
take risks and be spread out in several directions at once, even if it means
this debut is less focused than it could have been. An Awesome Wave is an interesting album even if it is flawed, and
Alt-J are a promising new act. Certainly one to watch.
Download: Tesselate
8. The Killers: Battle Born (September 2012/ Island)
The Killers seem to be suffering from ‘dad-rock’ syndrome;
since the only people I know who really like them anymore are dads, including
my own. To be honest I’ve never really subscribed to the Killers particular
brand of indie-dance-pop, although I am not really sure why. Maybe its because
when I was sixteen all the cool kids liked them, or maybe because Brandon
Flowers is just a total doyle. Either way, after a short hiatus, I figured the
return of the Killers would be a good chance to give them a try, with new album
Battle Born. Things don’t start off
particularly well with the obnoxious synth lines that kick off Flesh and Bone, and the chorus is
cheesier than a cheese board made of edam with a handle of wensleydale. The
track does benefit from some chunky road-trip guitar grind as the track builds,
but it is not a very powerful opener. That task is apparently left to follow
up, Runaways, a fantastic track, with
crunching guitar drops, and a beautifully effective sing-a-long chorus. The
style here neatly ties together the bands earlier work with their newer Day & Age sound. Flowers paints an
evocative and familiar picture, of teenage sweethearts, young love and the
difficulties of a shared life in intimacy, with interesting turns of phrase (‘Like a stumbling ghost/ I haunt these
halls’) and a crisp, impassioned tone.
Runaways
is a successful 80s trip; but there are plenty more that aren’t. See the hammy Here With Me and the creative cul-de-sac
that is A Matter Of Time. That said,
the daft piano hook in Deadlines and
Commitments has a certain charm to it, sounding a bit like Talk Talk on an
off day. But Miss Atmoic Bomb, the
next track and second single from the album, is definitely the best song on the
album, and one of the very best released this year. With a slow, floaty synth
interlude that recalls Where The Streets
Have No Name, we are guided into a thoughtful retrospective, one that burns
with autobiographical passion (‘And when
I look back on those neon nights.../I feel the heat/ I see the light/ Of Miss
Atomic Bomb’). Flowers crafts a beautiful, soaring, and touching pop song,
with heavy, rhythmic drum thumps, and effective guitar work. It’s such an
impressive feat, but that’s before we approach the four minute mark, and the
unmistakable hook from Mr Brightside
quietly unfurls from the track, effortlessly linking together their classic
track with their new high-mark. It really is a terrific track and you really
must applaud the bands decision to sponsor quality and meaning over commercial
value; a sacrifice rarely made in modern pop. There are more moments of quality
as the album comes to a close; Heart of a
Girl is a quiet track that sounds like U2 at their most lovely, and From Here On Out is an unprecedented
foray into country; one that is shamefully short-lived. It is hardly the bands best work; in fact in
places it is woefully out of sync with what you would expect of a band with
such a massive fan base. Thankfully Brandon and co still have one thing most
bands lack; heart. And this comes out
almost gushingly in this affectionate and cheesy comeback album.
The boys still
have a way to go, and I’d be lying if I said I was a newfound Killers fanatic
after listening to Battle Born, but
the Killers do offer an inspired and original slice of indie rock, even if it can
get a bit silly. I don’t rate Flowers much as a vocalist, personally I find him flat and whiney; he
sounds like Freddie Mercury doing his taxes.
However, he does prove again to be an excellent songwriter, and much of Battle Born echoes of the great American
songwriters; Runaways is pure Tom
Petty, and there’s a trace of Springsteen and Paul Simon on From Here On Out. The album benefits from having a more grounded
style than we have seen previously, with some satisfyingly crunchy guitar and
long stories about love and life on the road; it brings to mind the essence of
the Beat generation; Kerouac and Ginnsey, a topic we know Flowers is fond of
after he based an entire song on a Hunter S. Thompson quote. But Miss Atomic Bomb remains the very best
effort this band has yet produced in their current carnation. Battle Born is not a classic album and I
would struggle to offer it any higher recommendation. But the Killers are an
intelligent band, regardless of how bloody daft they can get on Battle Born.
7. The xx: Coexist (September 2012/ Young Turks)
The xx are officially everybody’s favourite indie band,
operating as sort of a whispery, noir re-telling of Fleetwood Mac, with lovely
harmonies between a male and female lead and some ice-cool guitar work. The
bands previous album, their debut xx
was probably one of the best of the decade, no jokes. Quiet, melancholy, but
also surprisingly personal and deeply effecting, it was artful indie rock
without a whiff of pretence; a rare thing indeed. So most of us were biting our
nails leading up to the bands sophomore album, hoping to hell that this
beautiful and intricate little origami crane wouldn’t be crushed under some
incumbent new direction or spattered and stained with flicks of new colour.
Thankfully this new album, Coexist,
is a furthering of the masterful style crafted on xx. This is no massive change, if you didn’t like it then, you
won’t like it now. But how can’t you
like this album? Lead singers and major contributors Oliver Sim and Romy-Madley
Croft are such a lovely union; Croft’s airy, clean overtone with Sim’s gravelly
undertone work remarkably well, like Lady Antebellum without all the
cowboy-camp. And then there’s the distinctively
crisp guitar-plucking, and the airy, ethereal synths, that generally give the
feeling of floating away from everything, most notably so in album opener, the
appropriately named Angels.
The bands
RnB roots are laid bare in the jive-y Chained,
while Tides, with its quiet guitar
hooks, is a slow, contrived gem. The real trick the band pull off here is
staying committed to minimalism, without ever meandering or descending into
tedium. They maintain the crisp cool of their debut but also introduce some new
elements, namely the dreamy house stylings of Reunion; the backbone of the whole set. Furthermore both vocalists
have advanced so much in style and ability; and the listener is made to feel
almost like an intruder, and I mean that in the best way possible. It’s like
hearing a couple bickering through a wall and freezing to listen in mid-crouch,
because you’re a big bloody gossip merchant.
Sims is particularly impressive on the pessimistic Fiction, and Try,
echoes(with this band, quite literally) of the Eastern flavours of little known
electro-maverick, Gold Panda’s excellent album Lucky Shiner. The xx
maintain and build-upon the minimalist aesthetic established in their debut,
and really Coexist is best understood
as a refinement, not a reinvention. And by that understanding, Coexist is a sweet, original, and
emphatic success.
Download: Reunion
6. Lana Del Rey: Born To Die (January 2012/ Polydor)
Liking Adele is pretty much a non-statement since virtually
everybody loves the gobby bint and yet liking Lana Del Rey is seemingly akin to
liking the Nazi party. This is strange since Lana Del Rey is endlessly more
appealing, mainly because she is able to convey emotion and meaning without
recourse to a series of shit metaphors. Still I can understand some of the
hate; the fact she self-proclaimed herself as “a gangsta Nancy Sinatra” is fairly nauseating, and the fact she has
an insanely wealthy father backing everything she does isn’t great material for
developing a liking for her either. Then again that is hardly her fault, and it
must be remembered she’s famous down to the fact she is bloody talented. While
echoing the lounge artists of the 50s, Del Rey is also quite indebted to
hip-hop, meaning that while her songs have depth, they usually have a bit of
pace and urgency to keep things interesting.
The title track, Born To Die is sheer class, a slow,
brooding track with a incessant staccato backbeat. It’s dark and pessimistic,
and Del Rey croons with a truly unique, sweet despair. To an extent Lana Del
Rey is playing a character, as she projects herself on a world quite far
removed from her own life of wealth and luxury, and that is to be admired since
most wealthy people would rather spend their time staring up their own arse.
While some of it is pure baroque, namely the big band splendour of Million Dollar Man and Carmen, others delve deeper into hip-hop
territory with some attempts at rap in the swagger of Off ToThe Races and the sumptuous Summertime Sadness. But her
greatest successes are where she deftly mixes the two, the obvious highlight
being Video Games. One of the most
unique pop singles of last year, Video
Games is Lana Del Rey at her utmost. There
simply aren’t other artists writing music to these sorts of standards. Born To Die is a winning combination of
style and substance.
Download:Born To Die
5. Maroon 5- Overexposed (June 2012/ A&M)
I am a huge Maroon 5 fan; a sentence seldom uttered at
Download festival, I dare say. Since while growing up my favourite band was The
Police, it wasn’t too surprising that I have liked everything Adam Levine and
co have ever released. Their best album
to date is also their least succesful; 2009’s Hands All Over, which successfully combined the at-ease funk pop of
Songs About Jane with the crackly
electro trimmings of It Won’t Be Soon
Before Long. New effort Overexposed
isn’t quite as consistent as Hands All
Over but it is a winning new direction. International smash Moves Like Jagger gets tacked on to the
end of the album to try and draw in more punters; a bit cheeky since they
tacked it onto their previous album too. Come on lads. Still Jagger was the beginning of a course of
writing that formed Overexposed and
it easily fits in amongst the set. Overexposed
sees the boys going all-out on the bubblegum pop, and for the most part it
works. While you can’t help but mourn the lack of funky basslines and the
clever guitar work of James Valentine that made Hands All Over great, this
new effort is a fresh and clean new take. One
More Night is as silly as it is fantastic. Over a reggae guitar line and
hip-hop backbeat, Levine twists his voice into some weird spirals, sounding
rather like a slinky being pushed through a tannoy. All this silly ‘eeeeew-woo-woo-woo’s are counterbalanced
with a surprisingly grounded narrative about the push and pull of a
relationship on the verge of breakdown, with Levine asking his beau for just ‘one more night’, presumably to be spent playing
frenzied games of ke-plunk. It’s a
wonderfully flippant opener, and it sets the tone for the rest of the album.
This is Maroon 5 at their most at-ease, and it’s
surprisingly effective. While they still have some more serious material, such
as the lovely piano ballad Sad, the
majority of the track list is almost loveably daft. Payphone is pure pop gold; a catchy and self-aware pop song, with
one of the most beautifully assembled choruses ever devised. Daylight is almost the flip-side of One More Night; with a couple desperate
to stay together rather than eager to split apart. Levine paints a picture that
is familiar to anyone; the impasse of work and necessity over pleasure and
choice, of days spent apart and nights spent together; it sounds like the
spiritual successor to Billy Joel’s ballad, Until
The Night. But Maroon 5 excel as a
band because they really nail matching the slow with the fast; the soothing
ballad with the hit single. And Overexposed
is Maroon 5 at their poppiest; sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.
While Lucky Strike is silly in a
really honest and effecting way, Fortune
Teller is just terrible, an empty song that would hardly be a B-side,
complete with euro-fart synth throbs and some totally pointless narrative that
sees someone trying to rhyme as many random words and images as possible. Love Somebody is a little toothless too,
but Ladykiller is a gratifyingly
silly track with some dodgy reverbs, the shittest guitar solo ever devised
(like a very slow fax machine, printing a memo on spent water balloons) and
some vocal echoes that give it a cheesy 80s feel. Similarly Tickets and Doin’ Dirt are good examples of a talented band having a bit of a
laugh, with tales of overly controlling girls, one of whom is a fuck-worthy but
otherwise contemptible snob, the other just a total lunatic who makes calls at
three in the morning(though given Levine’s track record, probably a good looking lunatic).
Theres some
psychedelic disco choruses and dreamy synth effects and generally it’s all a
bit daft, but luckily it’s never straying into self-parody territory. In short Overexposed
certainly isn’t the most ambitious album ever made, nor is it the most
compelling album made this year. But it is nice to see the band stripping
things back and taking such pleasure in making music. Of course liking Maroon 5
isn’t going to get you into any cool parties; but that feels like half the
appeal. It’s gratifying to see a talented but tired band tinkering with their
music, and enjoying an unexpected and thoroughly deserved second lease of life.
But in Beautiful Goodbye they really save
the best till last; a breezy, retrospective track with a slow hip-hop beat, and
a truly lovely, heartfelt chorus. Really it’s an ode to the string-plucking
sentimentalities of their excellent debut, Songs
About Jane, and the title seems apt, since the band are clearly going in a
new direction. It is really one of my very favourite songs the band has ever
produced, and it’s such a lovely, touching and sober way to close the album. Apparently
the boys are already working on album five, and I couldn’t be happier. And I
don’t care if that makes me a big woose.
Download: Beautiful Goodbye
4. Metric: Synthetica (June 2012/ Metric Music International)
This is probably one of the lesser known albums on this
list, but certainly one of my favourites. For the uninitiated, Metric are an
incredible indie band from Canada who blend indie, symphonic rock and dance
music to rather epic results. Front lady Emily Haines is one of my favourite
leads of all time, combining a beautiful, clean voice with clever song writing
and all the while looking fabulous which tends to help. Their 2009 album Fantasies is one of my favourite albums
of the past few years and it was nice to see a bit of grit and originality
among the legions of bands that think being ‘indie’ equates sounding a bit like
The Smiths. On new album Synthetica they have taken their foot
off the gas a little, and there is more poppy fare among the more
balls-to-the-wall alt rock moments. Having toured with Muse on more than one
occasion it was inevitable a bit of sci-fi opera-rock might have rubbed off on
them, and this is abundantly clear on album opener Artifical Nocturne, replete with a slow and gradual lead-up and a
shady narrative of “false lights for the
sun” that “can’t fake the daytime”,
which leads into the glam rock stomp of Youth
Without Youth, a real rattlesnake of a track (think Gary Glitter’s Rock and Roll Part 2) complete with a
wonderful union of thundering bass and lead guitar lines, and a playful,
paranoid narrative. Lead singer Emily Haines uses distorted poetry and
troubling images to cuttingly effective use, as she juxtaposes children’s games
with danger and delinquency. It is one of those lead singles where everything
comes together in such a brilliant and perfect way, and in fact it’s definitely
Metric’s best track to date.
Unfortunately the album as a whole isn’t quite as solid as
their previous work. Breathing Underwater
is a soulful and inspired ballad, full of hopeful lyrics and lovely, uplifting
guitar and synth work, akin to I Still
Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. Similarly Speed To Collapse has a certain kooky energy to it, but Dreams So Real is terrible, it never
seems to go anywhere, and the lyrics meander while some ugly keyboards throb in
the background. I like Lost Kitten,
even if it is a bit one-tone and creepy as hell. But The Void is similarly dull and meandering. That said, Clone is a warm and lovely sung little
gem of a track, and though Wanderlust,
a duet with Lou Reed, takes some getting used to, after a few listens you can
appreciate the harmony between the two very different vocal styles. If Fantasies were an album carved out of
granite with eyes of burning blue flame, Synthetica
is an album made up of glossy magazines and shiny aluminium. It’s a dark
comment on the multi-faceted and paranoid nature of post-9/11 America, and it’s
absolutely bloody brilliant.
Download: Youth Without Youth
3. The Lumineers: The Lumineers (November 2012/ Dualtone)
I don’t particularly like Mumford and Sons, but something good they did do was spark a resurgence
in country and folk music, and that has led to developments such as this,
self-titled debut album from Colorado based act, The Lumineers. Considering
pop music seems content to make music as deeply un-organic as possible, with
electro-pop losing its mature edge and descending to a kind of shapeless
corporate mess, to the throws of Lady Gaga, Nicki Minaj and Little Mix, it is
gratifying to have a pop success of such lovely, rich, and genuine charm. The
Lumineers never shock you, nor do they surprise you, but they are almost
certain to please you on this lovely first record. Opening with the bittersweet
Flowers In Your Hair, complete with
mournful banjo-plucking, and a soothing narrative of spent youth and advancing
years, you know that the Colorado boys are onto something special. Any doubts
are expelled as we reach the jaunty piano romp of Submarines, sounding like Mumford and Sons after they did a bunch
of meth and read Naked Lunch.
Featuring shouted choruses and paranoid lyrics, it’s probably one of the
stranger tracks on the album; but it sets them apart from folk poster boys
Mumford and Sons, whose songs are generally about bellowing about love in a
field of corn. It’s nice that Lumineers have a bit of edge; a bit of weirdness about
them.
The standout of the album is the
anthemic Hey Ho; one of the loveliest
pop songs to be released this year. The lyrics are almost painfully personal,
with a bleak country rock stomp, and some banjo-twiddling. The back end of the album sees generally dark
material, with the sombre Morning Song
proving and almost derivatively familiar tear-jerker, and the down-and-out
ballad Slow It Down. Similarly the
lovely violin work on Stubborn Love,
and the gorgeously flippant Flapper Girl,
bring further touches of splendour to an album that is already rather
excellent. The Lumineers eponymous debut is a moment of quiet and clarity among
a rather hectic year in pop music. Stripped back, at-ease, and yet at times
emotionally intense, this is a deeply enjoyable and freshly inventive new act.
Download: Ho Hey
2. Muse: The 2nd Law (September 2012/ Warner)
Okay let’s be clear, Muse is to me what terrible one-liners
are to David Carruso; I can’t get enough of them. And it’s only by some
contrived sense of fair play that I didn’t plonk them right at the top of the
list or make a new list with ten identical entries all dedicated to Matt
Bellamy’s trousers. Then again I am not so mad about this new album for no
reason, and despite my obvious bias I do think their newest entry The 2nd Law, while hardly
perfect should make the list because of its ambition and courage to try a bunch
of random shit and then throw it all together and say “there you go”. Since Muse realised in Black Holes and Revelations that they could fill one half of an album with paranoid pop-metal, and the other with spaghetti western soundtracks, I suppose they thought they should see exactly how far they can take it and I would dare say The 2nd Law must be the limit. First track Supremacy is full of pounding paranoia which is old-hat for Muse but it’s done in such a gritty, ballsy way that you can’t help but love it nonetheless. There is more than a whisper of Jimmy Page in the crunching riff, which is essentially the apocalypse on seven strings, and sounds like what the James Bond theme will be when Christopher Nolan finally gets a crack at it. And then straight after that we are stuck right into the slow wubby subtleties of Madness; undoubtedly one of the most impressive turn abounds in popular music. Madness is a sleek and cocksure pop track about relationships and intimacy that’s so effortlessly cool you have to thaw your headphones out your lug-holes when it’s done. Having made their name in pounding doom-metal, Muse pull off the kind of turn-around you’d get if Wayne Rooney stopped playing football for a bit and wrote a critique on the work of Leo Tolstoy. It’s a good example of Muse keeping check of recent developments in popular music, that they can then draw into their mother ship via tractor beam and incorporate into their own monolithic rock-symphony.
Follow Me smarts
of disco fan-favourite Map of the
Problematique, beginning with a foetal heartbeat that flows into a hopeful
narrative, uplifting laser-beam synths and some satisfyingly simplistic guitar
layers. It’s encouraging how well it’s gone down with the fans after Survival got eaten alive, even if that
song does play a lot better when within the confines of this album. Similarly
Muse get a bit of dubstep in there with the first part of their climatic
mini-opera and it works surprisingly well; Unsustainable
has plenty of crunching bass and wub wub’s but it also has some pretty gorgeous
orchestral pieces and a jaw-droppingly epic choir arrangement. Similar success
is found in Animals, a distorted ode
to the Occupy movement with some 12 bar blues and an incredibly satisfying climax
featuring death-by-guitar-breakdown and some riot breaking out in the
background, although one interesting thing I didn’t notice when I actually
reviewed the album properly was that the audio clip is actually taken from the trading
floor at the Stock Exchange, which is a clever inclusion. Explorers spins a similar tale of the planet slipping into the
hands of greedy conglomerates, and it’s definitely the creepiest thing on the
album but that is no bad thing. Chris Wolstenhome is brilliant when he sings on
the breezy Save Me even if his other
song, Liquid State, is about as
interesting as soggy tea towel. And
that’s not even touching the brilliance of Panic
Station, a straight out funk track with some delightfully unhinged 80s
reverbs and some triumphant brass, that is pants-down the most incredible thing
anyone has done all year. Artistically it’s all over the place which probably
explains why some of the critics turned their noses up like the Queen Mother
sniffing a fresh dog shit. Because proper bands make a staunch commitment to
theme after all, proper bands, like Coldplay. And granted they shouldn’t have
called it The 2nd Law if
precisely one third of the album dealt with thermodynamics in any way, but
these are nit-pick quibbles. This is a bold and beautiful exercise in joyous
experimentation.
Download: Panic Station
1. Cat Power: Sun (August 2012/ Matador)
It’s been a pretty strong year for good music, but Cat
Power’s masterful comeback album, Sun,
is the most inventive, fresh, and inspiring record of the past 12 months. I
didn’t actually know anything about Cat Power before this new effort, and it’s
a testament to the quality of these // tracks that I am now catching up on
everything main lady Chan Marshall has ever committed to disk. This is one of
the rare times where practically no prior knowledge of the artist is required;
the tracks themselves tell you all you need to know. Cherokee is a dreamy and sweetly retrospective opener, written
about recovering from emotional trauma and spent relationships. Over floaty
guitar lines and distant drum clashes, Marshall lets out a smooth, sad croon
that gently soothes over the tracks harder points, not least its narrative of
loss and dissolution (“I never knew pain
like this/ When everything dies/...I never knew pain, I never knew shame/ And
now I know why”). It’s a truly arresting opening, one that seems to almost
implicitly show the listener that this is a new start. This quality continues
in second track, Ruin, which really
is a thinly veiled demonstration on how to successfully cram about three
different songs into one and make it sound fantastic. 3,6,9 is by far the most flippant thing on the album, with some
cabaret piano plonking, and a jive-y, almost tribal backbeat, and a sign off
that consists of Marshall excessively accentuating the short phrase ‘fuck me-a-e-e-e-eeee’, which is,
interesting. Again the thing that impresses is how bleak the lyrics are, but
how this darkness is hardly even felt because of the euphoric chorus and
off-kilter musical experimentation. The first line may be ‘I feel tired/ Emotionally broke’, but she certainly doesn’t sound
like it; she sounds terrific. That’s not to say this is a disingenuous album;
on the contrary, it is almost painfully personal at times. Marshall greatest
attribute as a songwriter is her ability to lay everything bare and create
music that is truly unique. You would struggle to find a more lovely pop song all year than the soothingly pessimistic Manhattan, and Silent Machine is straight out, fist-pumping blues rock, with some distorted synths and vocals. Simiarly Peace and Love is a gritty punk rock track, with an embittered and passionate narrative. But the magnum opus of the set is the ten minute ode to starting over a fresh; Nothin’ But Time. Iggy Pop lends his vocal attributes, though he isn’t particularly effective and sounds a bit like he’s providing his input from the petrol station across the road. Sun is an album as evocative as it is provocative. While Marshall has clearly made the set for the simple reason of pure enjoyment, it almost feels like she wants something more; like she wants you to learn something from the experience. And you feel like with music of this quality it’s hard not to learn a little of something. For Marshall herself, this album comes off of the back of emotional turmoil, bankruptcy and dissolution with her label, Matador, and her own abilities as a songwriter. But Sun’s greatest strength, what makes it the top album of the year is because it isn’t about hardship, as so many albums are, it is about overcoming hardship.
Each song seems
dedicated to a different experience, a different problem or plan that didn’t
turn out. And each song is Marshall getting over it, moving on, and
flourishing. Sun is a retrospective;
looking back on hard times in hindsight, not engaging at them on an overly
impassioned or immediate even-level. There really is no other album of the sort
I have experienced, because it isn’t just an experimentation in sound, but an
experimentation in how to write an album and how to frame it. And on both
counts Sun is a stunning success.
Sometimes fantastical, but often modest, sometimes touching but other times
risqué, Chan Marshall’s story of hardship, endurance, and tenacity is excellent.
It is so rare for a body of songs to grip you the way this album does. There
really is no praise high enough. This is
highly polished and lushly produced (self-produced, I should add) electro-pop,
with soul at its heart and redemption on its mind. An emphatic and proud
testament to the pursuit of happiness, and the
tenacity of the human spirit. Quite unashamedly brilliant stuff.
No comments:
Post a Comment