Some favourite music videos from 2012

Albums of 2010 part 2 (10-1)

10. Tame Impala - Innerspeaker (Modular)

It's nearly impossible for me to listen to Tame Impala without thinking of the Beatles and getting a bit nostalgic about classic rock. On Innerspeaker, there's no shortage of psychedelic jams; Zeppelin, Hendrix are all invoked here. And surely some of the credit for this big "classic" sound is due to Flaming Lips producer David Fridmann. Remember that supposed garage rock revival in the early 00s? Tame Impala's high octane riffs and melodic vocals wouldn't have sounded out of place during this retro revival, but their Aussie rivals (i.e., the Vines) would have fled for the hills.

"Solitude is Bliss"

9. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs (Merge)

This record provided part of the soundtrack for my relocation to Edmonton. It was especially appropriate for the drive through Calgary (shudder). The Suburbs isn't perfect, but it has the kind of emotional energy that only Arcade Fire can provide. Thematically, it's also the group's most sophisticated record; sure, the ideas are big and obvious (that's kind of a given in pop music), but the Arcade Fire handle them with delicacy and nuance. (Read my initial review.)

"Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)"

8. Joanna Newsom - Have One on Me (Drag City)

With every release, Joanna Newsom becomes more surprising and less compromising. That being said, Have One on Me is more relaxed and refined than both Ys and The Milk-Eyed Mender. When the drums kick in on the effortless, swaggering "Soft as Chalk," for example, Newsom seems unsurpassable in her coolness. She steals a few octave jumps from Joni Mitchell, clumsily pounding the ivory like every great folk artist before her. By now, it seems inappropriate to even question her place among the finest of folk-singers.

"81"

7. Future Islands - In Evening Air (Thrill Jockey)

Over the last six months Sam Herring has become one of my favourite vocalists. Channelling Frank Black, Carey Mercer, and Ian Curtis, Herring's ecstatic growl cuts against up-tempo beats and new wave ornaments. Amounting to nine tracks in under forty mintues,  In Evening Air is a punchy record, as affective as it is economical. (It also doesn't hurt that In Evening Air boasts some of the best album artwork of the year.) Musically, Herring & co. demonstrate plenty of range (from the angsty "Tin Man" to the hopeful, introspective "Swept Inside"), and the emotional drive that sustains this album (which rests heavily on Herring's vocal maneuvers and the chugging basslines) never feels forced or contrived.

"Tin Man"

6. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest (4AD)

2008's Microcastle seemed like a big leap for Deerhunter (a leap that ended up being my favourite of the year); on Halcyon Digest, the band's feet are firmly planted. The ambient diversions and transitions have all but disappeared. Instead, we get a more diverse display of Deerhunter's best qualities. At times it's a pretty heavy record: mortality, aging, and transcendence are, as usual, heavily mined themes. Bradford Cox still seems preoccupied with obscure stories of religious affectation ("Revival" and "Helicopter"), while secondary songwriter Lockett Pundt aims for arena-rock with "Desire Lines." Cox & co. have yet to disappoint with their songwriting, but it's the stylistic moves and the instrumental additions (like the wicked saxophone solo on "Coronado") that make Halcyon Digest a great record.

"Desire Lines"

5. Beach House - Teen Dream (Sub Pop)

Sometimes its a good thing that music puts you to sleep. On Teen Dream, Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally practically pull open the covers and crawl into bed with you. When this album leaked early last spring, I made sure to keep it circulating through my stereo. Nearly every song could be a single and nearly every song could make for a great cover by a children's choir (please do yourself a favour and check out "Zebra," sung by the P22 Chorus). No record this year was as soft around the edges, as warm or as comforting. Teen dreams make for the best kind of nostalgia; Beach House present them with all of emotion and none of the regret.

"Norway"

4. The National - High Violet (4AD)

I like to imagine that The National's frontman Matt Beringer is the Don Draper of the indie rock world. It works on a few levels. Both dudes manage to embody a sadness that's not only believable, but attractive; they're both solitary figures with family problems (see, for example, the heart-wrenching "Lemonworld") and neither one is shy about his dependence on certain substances to make it through the day (and night). But the parallel breaks down just as easily. Beringer comes by his confessions honestly. Not only that, he's a sad dude you can actually relate to. I've given up wondering whether High Violet improves on 2007's Boxer, or even 2005's underrated Alligator. It may take less time to warm up to the National's new material than it used to be, but songs like "Anyone's Ghost," "Bloodbuzz Ohio," and the unbelievably epic "England," have serious staying power. And how can you not love I guy who confesses, "I was afraid I'd eat your brains"? I want to see this song ("Conversation 16") on The Walking Dead. I love albums that finish strong. High Violet ends as strongly as it begins. (Read my initial review.)

"England"

3. Menomena - Mines (Barsuk)

No one sounds quite like Menomena; but somehow Menomena manage to sound like almost everyone. Paradox! Well, it might be if I didn't have qualify it so much. But the point still stands. Menomena dwell in contradiction, and it appears they're quite suited for it. Brent Knopf's slight vocals appear pinned against massive walls of sound, while the rich baritones of Danny Seim and Justin Harris are just as often laid bare. If this is music for the end of the world, why do these guys insist fighting the forces of darkness with the weapon's of a bygone era? Why do they keep singing about religion when it's just as dead as everything else? Those familiar tropes keep popping up, and just as often, Menomena go for boldly sentimental choruses, with equal parts squealing guitar rawk and booming choral chant. With three brilliant multi-instrumentalist songwriters working together, Menomena's music is always more than the sum of its parts, and the songs on Mines move around so much you never know quite where you'll end up. (Read my initial review.)

"Lunchmeat"

2. Balmorhea - Constellations (Western Vinyl)

Thank God for this album. For most of the semester it was the only music I could study to. But classifying it as "study music" sells it short. Constellations is an achingly beautiful hybrid of southern folk and classical arrangements; imagine a cross between dust-bowl sounds of Gillian Welch and the careful precision of the French pianist, Debussy. It's the only instrumental album on my list, but the fourth album by this band from Austin, Texas seemed like a special discovery this past year and I'm grateful for the composure it offered during the long autumn months. There's nothing immediately jawdropping here; instead Balmorhea strive for slow-building understatement while staying true to their southern beginnings. Perhaps this strange fusion explains why these carefully arranged Constellations sound so warm and inviting.

"Bowspirit"

1. Women - Public Strain (Flemish Eye / Jagjaguwar)

Women had a mixed year. After releasing their second album to critical acclaim, the band made headlines for self-destructing on stage at show in Victoria, BC. I had tickets for their show in Edmonton the following weekend. I've never had to return tickets and I never expected that I'd have to do so because a band broke up the week before I was supposed to see them. By this point in November, I knew Public Strain was my favourite album of the  year. It may be odd to say for an album this noise-y, but this was my go-to album when I felt stressed out during the past semester. Like the snow storm featured on their album cover (totally surrounding its victims, making for poor visibility), Women smother their surf-guitar pop in dissonant feedback. That might have been too obvious, but I'd add that Women's musical blizzard is the kind of storm you take comfort in. At times Public Strain feels like the musical equivalent of wearing beer-goggles: disorienting, disconcerting, and kind of fun. Like the best experimental art-rockers (seriously, Sonic Youth, just quit and pass the torch to these guys; the same goes for No Age), Women make you work for those melodies; there's some digging to do here, but when you find that golden chord it feels new every time. I'm looking forward to their reunion tour. (Read my initial review.)

"Untogether"

saxophones are finally cool again

Although I regularly enjoy paging through Exclaim, Canada's monthly music rag, it's rare that I'll actually read anything in it. This month I had to make an exception and it paid off. The October issue features a substantial interview with Deerhunter frontman Bradford Cox. There are a number of particularly great moments and I can't resist posting a few of them here.

On the timeliness of his releases:

Every fall I want to put out a record because I like listening to records in the fall . . . I remember in high school and college, when records came out in the fall and I was really interested in checking them out. If someone in the band was having a baby or something [Halcyon Digest] would have been an Atlas Sound album, though I would have approached it a bit differently. The difference between Deerhunter and Atlas Sound has more to do with scheduling than anything else. There are songs that are just Atlas Sound songs and there are songs that are just Deerhunter songs, but Logos could have been a Deerhunter album. If I had to say this album was most like anything I'd say Weird Era Cont.

On the rising prominence of the saxophone in indie music:

I wanted that sax on there because I was listening to the Stones' Exile On Main Street reissue a lot . . . I began to see a pattern forming. Saxophones are becoming this thing. That's why we did it early. Next year everyone's gonna have a saxophone on their record because saxophones are just cool. This is gonna sound random and cutesy, but I've always had this fantasy of having a dog named Saxophone. Saxophone is one of my favourite words.

I can't help agreeing with Cox's point about the saxophone (all of TV on the Radio's albums are fine examples of this; and then, of course, there's Menomena), but I think it's growing popularity also has something to do with the fact that everyone's (finally!) re-embracing the early nineties. For me, this is a cause for celebration; indeed, it's not difficult to see why I'm such a fan of Deerhunter. The song Cox is referrencing (from Deerhunter's new album, Halcyon Digest), "Coronado," features a totally gratuitous sax solo that could have been lifted from just about any 90s sit-com (see below). Awesome.

 

christian (indie) music: a guide for the perplexed

Just so we're clear, I've always counted myself among the perplexed. Most articles from people like myself (who haven't actively sought out "Christian music" since they were a misguided youth) begin with a narrative or anecdote from personal experience. While I'm certainly not short on those, I'm not going to bother this time. Nor do I intend to give a you a genealogy of Christian rock, create a list of "indie" musicians who self-identify as Christians, sing the praises of Asthmatic Kitty, or discuss the strange (but fitting) history of some of Menomena's members. There are books and magazines that do that (although as far as I know they're still meant for hipsters of the Christian variety). I'm sure that at some point, perhaps in the near future, one of the many critics who grew up in the CCM cloister (apparently there are quite a few of us) will publish a detailed analysis of the Christian pop music phenomenon.

This is all just a roundabout way of introducing a recently published review of Starflyer 59's latest record by cokemachineglow's Chris Molnar. He offers some helpful advice to those of us who simply don't get why this bizarre subgenre should exist, and I think I agree with him.

In his review for 2008’s Dial M, Conrad asserted that “the best move this band can make isn’t stylistic but personal.” In other words, the negative effects of Christianity make Starflyer 59’s persistence within the Christian music industry immoral and inconsistent with their large, quality, and rarely religious body of work. I disagree: for me, as with Conrad, it was the impressive original roster of Tooth & Nail which helped make the bizarre nature of a Christian upbringing bearable. Those bands, including the Danielson Famile, Poor Old Lu, and eventually MewithoutYou, remain common points between me and anyone from a similar background. If I hadn’t heard Pedro the Lion’s Whole EP (1997)—released on Tooth & Nail—in the listening booth at Family Christian Stores, it would’ve taken me that much longer to emerge from the bubble, to grapple with the immateriality of the limits Christian music imposes on itself. Labels like Tooth & Nail seemed to once grapple in secret, hiding bands more ambiguously identified with Christian music behind a brand permissible to religious parents while introducing variety and perspective to music-hungry teenagers allowed precious little. They are, in other words, doing God’s work.

I suppose I was lucky. Much of the pressure to discover my music at the local Christian bookstore was self-generated: when I thought I'd covered the terrain and was still unable to locate an artist that I could honestly like, it was relatively easy to focus my energy on musicians that actually appealed to me. It's a shame I was never introduced to Starflyer 59 or Pedro the Lion. I might have lasted a bit longer.

game time

The World Cup is over and the NHL's regular season doesn't get underway until the end of September. For those of us starved of competition and (mostly) apathetic about sports, pop-culture lists and rankings are soothing supplement for the ego. Most of the time these lists don't amount to much; there are no medals or ribbons or bouquets the getting top spot; but every so often, a list emerges where there's actually something at stake. Yes, I'm talking about the Polaris Prize (winner announced September 20) and the Mercury Prize (winner announced September 7) short lists.

It's time, I think, for some speculation.

The Polaris Prize shortlist:
The Besnard Lakes - The Besnard Lakes Are the Roaring Night
Broken Social Scene - Forgiveness Rock Record
Caribou - Swim
Karkwa - Les Chemins de Verre
Dan Mangan - Nice, Nice, Very Nice
Owen Pallett - Heartland
Radio Radio - Belmundo Regal
The Sadies - Darker Circles
Shad - TSOL
Tegan and Sara - Sainthood

Who am I rooting for here? Well, the only albums I've really concentrated on here are Owen Pallet's Heartland, Caribou's Swim, and a bit of Broken Social Scene's Forgiveness Rock Record. I've liked what I've heard from Karkwa and was moderately pleased with The Besnard Lakes Are The Roaring Night (it's not quite up their with ...Are The Dark Horse). Both Pallet and Caribou's Snaith have already picked up this award, so I'd have to go with Karkwa, or Dan Mangan because of all the Kurt Vonnegut quotes in his liner notes. But I expect this to go to Broken Social Scene and I sort of hope it doesn't.


The Mercury Prize shortlist:
The xx - xx
Wild Beasts - Two Dancers
Mumford & Sons - Sigh No More
Foals - Total Life Forever
Laura Marling - I Speak Because I Can
Corinne Bailey Rae - The Sea
I Am Kloot - Sky At Night
Paul Weller - Wake Up The Nation
Dizzee Rascal - Tongue N' Cheek
Kit Downes Trio - Golden
Biffy Clyro - Only Revolutions
Villagers - Becoming A Jackal

Obviously, I'm rooting for Wild Beasts. Two Dancers was my favourite album of 2009 and I think they're the most interesting act on this list. However, it'll be a shocker if The xx fail to take it. I enjoyed their debut as well, but thought it a bit overhyped. I've recently become a fan of the artist least likely to win (Villagers) and had an opportunity to review Becoming a Jackal for Stylus. It's been getting mixed reviews but I think it deserves it's place on the list. I'll be posting my review here in the near future.
I'm sure there'll be more speculation to come. I love sports.


+ + +


Finally, to all who've been intrigued by my excessive posting about Menomena's new album, Mines, but for some reason or another have not been able to hear it, you have a limited opportunity to stream the album in its entirity from NPR. No piracy-related guilt - just pure awesome.

favourite albums of 2010 (so far)

I was recently asked for my favourites of the year so far. If you're like me, being asked a question like this is easy bait. We're only just past the half-way point and it didn't take long for me to ramble off a smattering of albums I've really been enjoying. Unsurprisingly, I've already written about most of them on this blog.

Balmorhea - Constellations
A strange fusion of familiar sounds, this group of musicians from Texas have produced a stunning album of classically minded instrumental folk-music that is profoundly affective and moving. There's just something about the combination of a banjo, a small orchestra and a kickdrum that ties my stomach up in knots. Constellations may end up being my album of the year. See my review.

Menomena - Mines
I've written of this album extensively. It's not even officially out yet, but already I've listened to and thought about Mines more than anything else released this year. It helps to have a few pals that are as captivated by Menomena's way with composition and melody. It also might have helped that I've been reading Dante's Divine Comedy ("Killemall") and Moby Dick ("BOTE"). See my reviews.

The National - High Violet
The National came alive for me with High Violet. Sure, I was a fan of Boxer and Alligator. But something about Matt Beringer's melancholy seems more realized on the new album. I think it's their best album and you'll be hard-pressed to find a better executed rock record this year (unless it's by Menomena, but, then again, I've got another five months to back up that claim). It probably helped that I had become a huge fan of Mad Men in the mean time. See my review.

Joanna Newsom - Have One On Me
Could this be Newsom's most straight-forward album? It's certainly her most consistent. And when you consider that it's a triple album (!), it's hard not to call it her best. Lyrically, she's still full of wit and an attention to diction that's rarely found in most contemporary songwriters. I love hearing moments borrowed from Joni Mitchell, as well as great accompaniment. Newsom has done something excessive and audacious (arguably moreso than with Ys.) and has once again miraculously avoided falling flat on her face. Lord knows, that's what anyone else would have done.

The above are the cream of the crop, in my opinion. Below is my long list, in no particular order.

Surfer Blood - Astro Coast
These New Puritans - Hidden
Toro Y Moi - Causers of This
Crystal Castles - II
Frog Eyes - Paul's Tomb: A Triumph
Future Islands - In Evening Air
Gorillaz - Plastic Beach
Beach House - Teen Dream
Tara Jane O'Neill - A Ways Away
The Morning Benders - Big Echo
Caribou - Swim
Ariel Pink - Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffitti
Owen Pallett - Heartland
Shearwater - The Golden Archipelago

"The Dreadful Work of Justice": Some Thoughts on the Inferno

I'm lucky enough to be part of a reading group that's planned to read each volume of Dante's Divine Comedy over the summer months. Having just finished the Inferno, I can say that, daunting as it may be, I'm really enjoying the reading process.

Some key questions that have arisen for me while reading are these: How are the characters with whom Dante converses narrating themselves (i.e. are they trustworthy, are they contemptuous, etc.)? Furthermore, what is the relationship between Reason (Virgil not only represents the poetic tradition, but also stands in as an allegorical representation of Reason, which in itself is not sufficient for salvation) and Emotion (namely, pity or sympathy, which we as readers continuously encounter in Dante's reactions to the inhabitants of hell)?

What's important to remember as we explore this tension is that, although humanist interpretations have prized Dante's sympathetic response to the stories of those he meets, Virgil continuously reminds Dante that his pity is essentially a symptom of pride (at least, while in hell): "Who is more impious than one who thinks that God shows passion in His judgement?" (XX.29-30). Piety and pity both come from the same Italian root: "pieta." This makes things a bit tricky at times, but in this case it's quite clear that Virgil recognizes that such pity challenges God's authority. Another important point of clarification: if God were to show "passion in His judgment" it would mean that his judgment could be second-guessed - that it was subject to a whim. We also need to remember that "Virgil is not the Roman poet so much as he is human reason unenlightened by faith; when he acts or speaks in the poem he does so without the historical context supplied by his life and works" (Robert Hollander's "Introduction," xxix). In other words, as a pagan poet, Virgil can only take Dante so far. Reason names the limit of Virgil's sensitivity. He is interested in justice and has little to say about compassion or forgiveness (though, he does admit to feeling pity himself when he observes the friends of his that are stuck in Limbo).

Unsurprisingly, I've found John Milton's Paradise Lost an interesting point of comparison. Unlike his heroic representation in Paradise Lost (and unlike most of the characters we meet in Hell), Dante's Satan isn't given any dialogue, for it appears he's too preoccupied chewing on traitors. Also surprising is that Dante's Satan isn't associated with fire but with ice: "The emperor of the woeful kingdom / rose from the ice below his breast" (XXXIV.28-9); the three winds produced by the flapping of his wings are "the sources of ice upon Cocytus" (XXXIV.52). To finally escape Hell, Virgil and Dante must climb "down the thick pelt and crusted ice" of Satan's "hairy flanks" (XXXIV.73-75).

I've also found Menomena's new album, upon which I've been expounding in my last couple posts, the perfect music for navigating hell (in particular, the track "Killemall," which inspired my choice of image for post below).

Menomena's MINES (part 2): a track by track review

If you're confused by this post, click here to read my initial review of Menomena's new album Mines, set to be released July 27 on Barsuk Records. Below is an attempt to evaluate/describe each track on the album. I take for granted that I'm only scratching the surface.

Queen Black Acid - Although I'm still unsure what to make of the title, my appreciation for this song has grown significantly since first hearing it. It sets things up quite well, but the allusions to Alice in Wonderland are a bit lame. The minimal instrumentation of the first minute and thirty seconds really prepares you for the spaciousness of the chorus, thanks in part to that tremendous baritone saxophone. Down the rabbit hole I go.

TAOS - During this song I keep anticipating the massive drum fill and in that sense it's the biggest tease on the album: so much anticipation. But somehow "TAOS" delivers, if only for a few fleeting moments. Those sax fills could be samples taken from an early 90s sitcom. It's probably the best rock song on the album, the most out of control guitar is harnessed, nicely mirroring the interior/exterior struggle of our socially inept protagonist: "Underneath this fleshy robe lies a beast with no control. O my God bring me peace from this wolf clothed in sheep fleece. O my God set me free for I have no ability to cut my leash and walk away."

Killemall - From the title you might think this was a shout out to Metallica and maybe it is, but this song is far more subdued than I first expected. The verses are wonderfully sinister. It sounds like burning arrows flying through the air. It's about the devil, it's the harrowing of hell! But wait! The chorus is the most happy-go-lucky thing I've ever heard from Menomena. What am supposed to do with this?

Dirty Cartoons - A standout, ripping good song that ends with a very impotent, churchy version of the chorus, which nearly seems to undo the awesome darkness of the chorus' initial rendition. Like I've said before, Menomena are masters of context. As with other songs of theirs, "Dirty Cartoons" demonstrates that mood and tone are contingent upon a variety of contextual ingredients; in other words, the meaning of a song can shift with the flick of a switch or the removal one instrument from the mix.

Tithe - The xylophone beginning is a bit disheartening, but the eerie chords of a grand piano sound like they're echoing through a hollow church building. Here, Menomena actually goes for a devotional melody, but the lyrics are an ironic step back ("nothing sounds appealing") - could this be a bit of self-deprication? The song is full of dystopic imagery. The rapture comes and goes. Ho hum.

BOTE - Very reminiscent of TV on the Radio; and sounds like a musical companion to "The Pelican," with that baritone sax groove. It eventually shifts into a very catchy verse that's full of nautical ("BOTE"?) imagery and some gospel harmonies. The solo almost sounds like it could have been lifted from U2's "Bullet the Blue Sky." This song manages to sustain the feeling that all hell is about to break loose: "Oh sea legs please don't fail me now."

Lunchmeat - At first I thought this was bit underwhelming, but when the bass hook kicks in (with the long overdue drumline), I must admit I'm totally slayed by this song. There's a strange interlude about halfway through (with a mandolin?), right before the big hook is finally delivered. And again, I'm at Menomena's mercy.

Oh Pretty Boy, You're Such a Big Boy - This strangely concocted song has a fantastic groove: the ascending bassline that switches back and forth from sax to piano is ridiculously catchy. I'm also not sure what to make of the title, but the usual themes are present here: "All your love is not enough to fill my half-empy cup." No shortage of religious imagery here!

Five Little Rooms - The lead single is typically cryptic and rollicking. And it sounds massive. After painting an eerie picture of modern suburban life, we get the line "All this could be yours some day" sung repeatedly. Should we be grateful or pissed off? I love the bombast of the drums two and a half minutes in. For a much more insightful take on the song, check out cokemachineglow's track review (they're also streaming the song!).

Sleeping Beauty - I think I love this song, but I feel somewhat guilty for it. It may be one of the hokiest tracks on the album, but Menomena manage to make it interesting and compelling. The sing-along portion at the end goes for the triumphant rock anthem finale. I'm only slightly embarrassed.

INTIL - This closing track seems very much akin to what you'd find at the end of a Radiohead album. The plodding piano chords, the deadly slow tempo, the drawn out distancing of our singer from the last 40 minutes of music. It's almost like an apology for the audacity of such an adrenaline-filled album (INTIL is an acronym for the line "I never thought I'd lie - still haven't figured out the other acronyms - BOTE, TAOS - any help?): "I admit sometimes I say too much." A satisfying way to end.

Secular Parables: An Early Review of Menomena's MINES (part 1)

Click here for a track-by-track review of Mines.

Menomena's third (technically fourth) album, Mines, is probably my most anticipated album of the year. It leaked last Thursday and I've set myself the task of reviewing it long before any official sentiment spreads. The band hails from Portland, Oregon and have been a fixture on my blog since I first heard Friend and Foe back in 2007. I loved that record.

A few general things we can say about the album as a whole. The drumming is absolutely bombastic and continues to be one of Menomena's greatest strengths; the lyrics are never straightforward or dull; each song is unapologetically grand, even with the simplest musical ingredients. All the songs on Mines are potentially explosive, even volatile; and it can make for an album that's difficult to navigate. The first time listening through, I simply didn't know how to maneuver through some of these tracks. And I'm still guessing.

Menomena records are always constructed very deliberately. With song composition, its become their trademark to treat each instrument as an ingredient appears and disappears from the mix continuously. Rarely do we get everything all at once; and, indeed, that's one reason I find Menomena so engaging. They know how to show restraint and they use it to their advantage. That said, each musical ingredient is recognizable and quite distinct. Rarely do the piano, the baritone saxophone, the drums, or the guitar and vocals get lost in the mix. What we're left with is a collection of songs that never settle down. This is more or less how Friend and Foe functioned; Mines only ups the ante.

During our first listen, my friends and I came up with a theory that this album constituted by parodies of alternative rock cliches from the 90s; it unfolds like some epic battle between artistic ingenuity and the most sentimental rock music. Another theory that quickly developed among the group was that this was essentially the best (and perhaps the most self-conscious) "praise and worship" album ever recorded. As with Friend and Foe, it's heavy on religious imagery, but Mines doesn't skimp on the sort of "inspiring" melodies common to most "praise and worship" songs. It's also got moments of gospel-style delivery and more than once employs the sort of transcendent chorus that bands like U2 are know for. Menomena effectively deconstruct all of this. The songs on Mines are, at times goofy and irreverent, but Menomena never flinches. I won't be surprised if this album doesn't get a very positive reception, but one thing is certain: this is music only Menomena could make; and it is surely an impressive feat. In fact may be the strangest (and most intriguing) rock album of the year.

new music / highly anticipated

Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles (June 8)
Apart from wonderful new albums from the National, LCD Soundsystem and Frog Eyes, I'm currently enthralled with Toronto-based electro-pop duo Crystal Castles' self-titled sophomore effort. I'm finding it far easier to digest than their debut. With songs like "Baptism," "Empathy" and "Suffocation," it's more melodic and far more listenable than its predecessor (which I didn't much care for). There's still plenty of vocal manipulation from Alice Glass ("Violent Dreams") and the occasional screetch of static ("Doe Deer"), but everything that first piqued my interest in Crystal Castles has been channelled through a poppier medium. "Celestia" is slice of shoe-gazey dreampop (think Ladytron crossed with Slowdive) that's even more successful in its execution than Bradford Cox's recent work with Atlas Sound. Grinding basslines, ecstatic synths and shoegazer tendencies? They've finally won me over.

Here are some other upcoming releases that I'm REALLY looking forward to:

Menomena - Mines (June 27)

Arcade Fire - The Suburbs (August 2)

Smashing Pumpkins - Teargarden by Kaleidescope Volume 1: Songs for a Sailor
Ha! Just kidding. Can you believe that album title? I can't help imagining Billy Corgan dressed up in a sailor suit. It'll be Corgan's first release with his new drummer, the 17-year-old replacement for Jimmy Chamberlin. And apparently it was released May 25. I don't think anyone noticed. Perhaps it was the unforgiveable album cover, which looks as though it was ripped out of a kid's colouring book.

albums of the decade (XII)

I'm running out of time, so my musical navel-gazing won't be as drawn out as it has been in every other "albums of the decade" entry. I haven't even gotten to my top five yet! Stay tuned.

Deerhunter - Microcastle (Kranky, 2008)

I can understand how Deerhunter aren't the easiest band to like. Their albums are cumbersome and at times sound half-baked: you usually have to wade through several tracks of disconnected noise before getting to something really exciting. Fair enough.

Microcastle was my favourite album of last year. In my mind, nothing came close to the ambition and execution of Deerhunter's second album of shoegazey guitar rock. It's a beautiful and engrossing listen start to finish; the soundscapes are perfect for a walk in the snow. This album came out in the fall of last year and it was my album of choice for those long walks to work, snow crunching underfoot, flakes falling from the sky. It reminded me a lot of early Smashing Pumpkins (moments on Gish, but particulalry Pisces Iscariot), so of course I was immediately obsessed.

It isn't enough to say that Microcastle rewards dedicated listening. It's a sprawling piece of guitar rock revelation, where everything seems to fit together. Seamlessly paced, Microcastle is driven by a nostalgic love affair with feedback and melody. Beginning with the soothing "Cover Me (Slowly)," Deerhunter’s lazy euphoria finally stumbles into the broken chords of "Activa." But just when Bradford Cox appears to lose his steam, Deerhunter launch into "Nothing Ever Happened," an impossible epic about drugs that explodes into an all-out prog-jam.

Another thing I appreciate about Deerhunter is that they always leave enough room on their albums for the "come down;" although their biggest moments are inspiring, it's the way they handle the aftermath that's a real testament to their artistry. Following the massive climax of "Nothing Ever Happened," the psych throwbacks "Saved By Old Times" and "These Hands" are comfy matresses on which to land: the first is an ode to the past, while the latter describes the dangers of inaction, on growing old and becoming ineffective. Deerhunter offer a world of to get lost in. Yeah there's drugs, but one thing is certain: once Microcastle draws you inside, there’s no getting out.

Menomena - Friend and Foe (Barsuk, 2007)

Friend and Foe is a deceptive straighforward album; at first, it sounds like inventive indie-rock, but sooner or later one begins to notice the careful composition, the openings for new sounds and rhythms, the way each song flows into the next, the thoughtful lyrics, the confusion of sacred and profane and the quality of production. Destined to be overlooked, this was an album that kept revealing something new with each listen. I love bands that use the saxophone well (see TV on the Radio) and are this conscious of different rythmic sounds and patterns; I love Menomena.

The brilliant "Rotten Hell" has become a darkly satisfying sing along for my friends and I, while a song like "The Pelican," which again brings to mind TV on the Radio for its carefully exposed aggression (the wild vocals), and the way it nearly spins out of control, has only become more interesting because I've recently learned that the pelican is part of a symbolic tradition in Christian art. It's meant to represent Christ's sacrifice: there is a myth that, in order to feed its young, the mother bird turns her head inward to pierce her own breast; the blood spills and the young are fed. I'm pretty sure, this isn't what the songs supposed to be about, but with that explanation in mind, that screamed line, which recurrs through out the song ("Take it!") seems strangely appropriate.

The songs on Friend and Foe seem divinely inspired and then beautfully and blasphemously deconstructed. It's only three guys! How do they do it?

Grizzly Bear - Yellow House (Warp, 2006)

Unlike this year's Veckatimest (see my "Top 20 Albums of 2009"), Yellow House isn't really a pop album. It has moments, sure, but the songs that do emerge from these folkey soundscapes have more in common with prog-rock than pop music. I'm probably overstating the case. Yellow House is, like all their work, full of choirboy vocals, instrumental sophistication and haunting atmospheres. Their sound is all that unique anymore, but no one does it better than Grizzly Bear and I, for one, am glad they're finally getting the attention they deserve, whether it comes from some anonymous blogger or from Jay-Z.

I first encountered Grizzly Bear through a mix my sister sent me while I was out treeplanting in B.C. "On a Neck, On a Spit" was the song she included and it blew me away: epic and uplifting, it finally erupts into a tight acoustic love song ("each day spend it with you, all my time spend it with you..."). From that moment on I held a lot of anticipation for the release of their second album, Yellow House, scheduled to arrive that autumn. On first listen, I was a bit let down; this wasn't like the song I'd spent my summer listening to: it was slow, brooding, eerie and depressing (see the mid-album waltz "Maria," which seems like it was meant for a Paul Thomas Anderson movie). Suffice it to say, it wasn't long till I had completely immersed myself in songs like "Colorado" (another waltz built around a grand piano) and "Lullaby."

Seeing them open for TV on the Radio in Fargo, ND solidified my love for this band. Not only were they studio wizards, they know their instruments like experts and sing together like intimates. Veckatimest may have been overhyped but it continues their winning streak. It's still safe to say, "No One Does it Better."