February 1997 ear candy by Leslie and Jack |
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We Surrender
We're not immune to peer pressure, so here's a list of our top picks for
records released in 1996. We figure, by now, you've read at least 28 top
ten lists, so what's one more. At least you know we at SMUG really love
you, and we're not just using you for your cool car/job/power
tools/whatever. Yes, SMUG loves you. And we give you 12 records, not like
those stingy rock writers who only give you ten and keep the best two for
themselves.
Beck: Odelay
This is going to be on every year end top ten, so,
we'll keep it brief. The trailer park Mozart takes Fluxus to the
mountains and comes back with an assortment of subtle grooves fusing The
Stanley Brothers to Marcel Duchamp and Isaac Hayes to Redd Kross. Best
record of the year. Buy it now.
Tricky: Pre-Millennium Tension
Leslie says he can't rap. I say, "Who
cares?" Tricky throws down the de rigueur post guitar/bass/drums
soundscape. The sound of this record is the sound of a thousand Fender
Mustangs being burned in a grunge inferno bonfire. We say, "It's about time."
Neutral Milk Hotel: On Avery Island
One of our favorite new bands of the
year, NMH have all the things kids today love. Enigmatic lyrics, fuzzy
guitar pop, and 12 minute end of the record guitar drone that can only be a
shout out to the Mack Daddy of all noise bands, Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore.
Sonic Youth: Washing Machine
Speaking of Thurston, add this one to the list.
Certainly not their best effort, but our expectations of them may be too
high. Washing Machine delivers all of what we love SY for, plus
"Little Trouble Girl" a song that only girls seem to get.
John Parish and Polly Jean Harvey: Dance Hall at Louse Point
Guitarist John
Parish supplies the music while Polly Jean her own bad self croons, wails,
and
moans her lyrics. Don't confuse this with a PJ Harvey album. Less
bluesy. More experimental. Less angry. More longing. Hearing Polly
Jean sing the
heartbreaking "That Was My Veil" will leave you misty eyed and
sporting wood at the same time. Well, the guys anyway.
Sebadoh: Harmacy
Lou Barlow's posse take the four track out of the
basement and into the
bedroom for another strong set. Songs about being fucked over by bitchy
girls have been a staple of popular music for centuries. But recently the
rash of
overly sensitive shoegazing bands have had other things to whine about.
Fuck getting along with your ex-girlfriend. We need material to wrap
around clever
hooks. Sebadoh can also step outside the pop song structure once in a
while for some hell noise and even close on a happy note with a Bags cover.
Pop is dead. Long live Sebadoh.
Archers of Loaf: All the Nation's Airports
We never knew that we
wanted to go underneath the belly
of Alaska. At least, not until we listened to All the
Nation's Airports. Maybe it's their physics major
looks complete with pocket protectors, but never has
the soundtrack to The Discovery Channel been so
damned entertaining. Underneath the belly of math
rock lies Archers.
Ween: Pure Country Gold
Okay, there is a certain humor inherent to
modern country music, and no one gets it more than Dean and Gene, those
wacky boys who, like so many of today's artists, spend too much time in
their room. Still, it's full of solid pop hooks and laced with the wry
humor we've come to expect from the boys. We defy anyone to listen once
and not walk away humming "Mr. Richard Smoker."
Elvis Costello: All This Useless Beauty
We know, you feel like Elvis
has let you down a couple times and you're a little hesitant to try
throwing your money at one of his projects again. Not to mention, there
was no single, so you have nothing to go on. Trust us, the
Elvis-as-Balladeer is back full stop, and Useless Beauty delivers
in spades the haunting melodic barebones Elvis we all love.
Afghan Whigs: Black Love
Chalk another one up for the Cincinnati
Heroin Kings [*note, that's a nickname we're giving them, nothing
official*]. First, they try to convince us they're on the smack, but
Greg Dulli is still chubby. On Black Love they're trying to tell us
they have some deep rooted criminal longings. Okay, Greg, we'll buy it,
but not because we believe you, but because you had the presence of mind to
set it to some haunting guitar licks and layer it over a solid funk
infrastructure. We're glad you're in touch with your dark side, it will
save you a fortune in therapy.
Gillian Welch: Revival
Can't tell if she's really into Jesus or she just
thinks Jesus gives her the mountain cred. (Kinda like technoheads name
dropping John Zorn we guess.) Either way, these sparse songs with Louvin
Brothers harmonies bring Steinbeck novels and Walker Evans photos to mind.
Dead babies, ginny mules, and V-8 Fords
everywhere. This is especially surprising since she's from California
Iggy Pop: Greatest Hits
"Best of" records generally don't rate top
ten status, but Iggy is Iggy and frankly, with all those Stooges records,
Iggy novices may have a hard time deciding where to begin worshipping at
the altar of the real granddaddy of grunge and modern rock. This
will be a good compass for the uninitiated and a handy feel good plate for
the converted.
back to the junk drawer
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