The Owl
from Fear Is On Our Side

This is the best animated music video I’ve ever seen.

Hold On
From A Poet’s Life

One of the most difficult questions for me to answer in recent years is What’s your favorite band of all time? There are a lot of bands who have had a lot of impact in my life. As I get older, I gravitate toward a much easier sound. The bands I have followed for the last decade or so are downright soft. A couple of these softer bands not only get regular rotation, but manage to create music that I identify with better than any other music I’ve ever listened to.

But one band started the whole thing. My music addiction can be traced directly to Operation Ivy.

No matter how far away I move from the rebellious scene of my youth, I have yet to move away from anything and everyone connected to OpIvy. In the wake of their brake-up, Rancid became my favorite punk band. I bought everything even remotely related, from Auntie Christ to Dance Hall Crashers. I even went through an obligatory ska phase after high school.

Well, I’m not punk anymore. Not even close. But I still find myself keeping tabs to the Ivy kids. The latest installment is a solo album by Tim Armstrong. It’s his standard brand of ska-punk, leaning way more ska than usual. I can’t get enough.

When it comes right down to it, Operation Ivy really is my favorite band of all time.

People Die
From Travistan

I hated Silence of the Lambs. Hated it. And not because it was too gruesome or because I somehow convinced myself that it was a bad movie. No, my distaste is much more basic. I found the movie exceptionally frustrating as a sequel.

“A sequel?” you say? Yes, a sequel. It’s somewhat more common knowledge now than it was in 1991, but Silence of the Lambs is, in fact, a sequel. The original movie is a classic thriller called Manhunter. I watched it with my mom when I was, I dunno, like 12. More than being a great childhood memory, it is an amazing movie.

Unfortunately, as a sequel, Lambs fell flat. I went into it expecting an extension on the first brilliant film, but, of course, it was intended to stand on its own.

That’s how I felt about Travistan.

If you are even remotely familiar with the Dismemberment Plan, you will recognize Travis Morrison’s voice. This album is his first (and thus far only) post-Plan solo effort. When it was released in 2004, it was met with a flying poop-storm of bad reviews from the legions of Plan fans. Including me. I think we were all expecting a sequel to Change, but instead were introduced to a new Travis Morrison.

At the time, it sounded lonely somehow. Looking back… er… listening back, I realize that I was reading more into the album than I should have been. Had this been his only release, I probably would have hailed it as some kind of indie solo brilliance. Right now, I wish I could go back and hear it for the first time all over again with the ability to ignore all of my prejudices.

I sincerely hope Travis releases another album. I promise to give it an honest shot.

…

Maybe I should rent Silence of the Lambs…

Wincing The Night Away
Realeased 23 January 2007

Must Own

I’ve been seriously contemplating writing a Best Albums of 2007 list in the first few weeks of the year, just to see how close I can get. Most of it would be based on expectation and conjecture. I wouldn’t be able to account for the surprise hits or debut albums. And, of course, it is impossible for pre-emptive Best-of lists to measure the emotional impact any specific album will have had by the end of the year. So I decided against it. Regardless, this is shaping up to be a very good year for music.

Well, Wincing the Night Away is a sure bet for the Top Ten of 2007. If ten better albums are released this year, I’ll be shocked. In fact, if this album ends up on 5 or fewer Top Ten lists over at Metacritic, I’ll eat a crayon.

Anyone who has listened to the Shins can tell you, their music is infectious. As your new friend Sam aptly put it, “It will change your life, I swear.” I have yet to meet anyone who doesn’t like the Shins. Come to think of it, I can’t think of anyone who doesn’t love the Shins. It’s like each of their albums are perfectly crafted to create fans. This, their third effort, expands on that new tradition.

But more than anything else, here’s my favorite thing about the Shins: You cannot describe them using that ever-popular equation, band1 + band2 = the Shins. In fact, they are more often than not used in place of band1 or band2 to describe other bands. They have earned a place in the hearts and minds of music fans everywhere by sounding exactly like the Shins and nobody else.

Cobblestoned Waltz
From Lillian

Quick history of Alias:

Alias (which is his alias, obviously) is white and grew up in a small town in Maine. After catching the hip hop bug, he started creating his own beats and perfecting his signature, double-time rapping style. He and a friend decided to start an artist collective called Anticon and moved out to the Bay Area. Much to everyone’s surprise (his parents most of all, I’m sure) he was very very very good…

Anticon was successful almost immediately and Alias’ hard beats, quick rapping style, and intelligent lyrics gave him a weird kind of international fame. A couple years ago he decided to release an entire album of only his beats (appropriately titled “Muted“), which, ironically enough, was more of a success than any of his previous albums (despite being met with some pretty harsh reviews).

His 13 years younger brother, Ehren (who is something of a musical prodigy himself) caught wind of Muted and the two got together and created “Lillian” (named after their grandma). Alias supplying the beats, Ehren supplying every jazz instrument you can imagine.

Carol turned me on to Alias. I had never heard of him, but she’s been a huge fan for years. She gave me “Muted” for my birthday when we were dating and I fell in love with it immediately. “Lillian” feels and sounds like a logical next step. There’s something simultaneously mature and rebellious about each song.

Alias and the whole Anticon crew are regularly derided by both the mainstream media (for being too artsy) and the indie media (for not being artsy enough) and are constantly having to fend off accusations of being “only famous on the internet.” I think their huge and loyal following (including Carol and I who were willing to drive to Missoula in the middle of the night just to see Alias live) says a lot more about Anticon’s music than any reviewer’s first impressions.

Sheep In Your Head
From Miss Your Face

My first thought when I heard this: Woah. Where did that come from?

This album is shockingly good for a band that doesn’t get national attention. These cats just know how to make solid rock and roll. It’s just a bit harder than your run-of-the-mill indie rock and less pretentious than modern emo. It’s not ground-breaking, but it isn’t trying to be. It’s just good, new-fashioned rock. When we’re old, grey, and thinking about retirement, the “classic” radio stations will play music that sounds just like this.

The Transit War has gotten some airtime on mtvU, which may or may not help their long-term exposure. More importantly, their line-up seems to have solidified (always a necessity when you’re looking for a larger audience). Miss Your Face not only benefits from a stable group, the production has been ramped up. The music has a great mix of small-venue sensibility (like the obligatory sing-along) and stadium-sized intuition (like guitar solos). As a package, they have all the ingredients for success.

To be totally honest, they might be about three years too late. Had this album been released when Jimmy Eat World was getting airplay with Sweetness and when Jason Schwartzman was still drumming for Phantom Planet, The Transit War would have been signed to EMI or Dreamworks before the ink was dry on the cover art.

Speaking of cover art, there’s something else the Transit War is doing right. This cover is intensely interesting. I keep looking at it, caught somewhere between “I don’t understand” and “I don’t want to understand.” It’s a simple, powerful image that resembles almost no other cover I’ve ever seen. A+ guys. Good job.

Anyways, this is a great album and you can hear how close these kids are to greatness.

Our Endless Numbered Days
Realeased 23 March 2004

Must Own

I’m not even sure where to start.

This album is nothing less than essential. Our Endless Numbered Days is not only one of the best albums to be released this decade, it contains the best love songs recorded in a generation. Put simply, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this album. It’s more than good. It’s perfect.

I don’t remember where and when I first heard Sam Beam, but I do remember buying Iron & Wine’s debut album The Creek Drank the Cradle while I was dating my wife. I remember thinking Bird Stealing Bread would go perfect on my next mix tape for her. I’m sure it’s one of the reasons she married me. Our Endless Numbered Days was released less than a month after our wedding and it became an instant favorite. Perhaps you could blame our starry-eyed newly-wed love bubble, but this album became the soundtrack for our entire first year.

The album sinks its teeth in at precisely 2:43 in the first song and it doesn’t let go. Ever. It came as absolutely no surprise when Iron & Wine started popping up on the soundtracks to major motion pictures. Sam Beam will not only be with us for a very long time, he may very well go down as one of the defining musicians of this generation.

As Man-With-Guitar music goes, it simply doesn’t get better than this.

Calm
From We, The Vehicles

Emo music has had two distinct phases. Originally, emo was basically country music for hardcore kids: clean-cut mid-west kids singing about how sad and angry they are that a girl broke their heart. Whiney and predictable, yes, but it was also a new and oddly exciting branch of the ever-changing genra the rest of the world refers to as “punk rock.”

Then something happened. Some time in the late 90′s, emo got happy and poppy. The whiney, depressed, geeky, no-life, loser singer/songwriter was replaced with the pretty, tattooed, occasioanally sad, constantly complaining, but very well produced artiste.

For better or worse, the Promise Ring takes most of the blame for this drastic shift. Phase One emo kids enjoy the Promise Ring (having drowned in the harsh and dreamy sadness of 30 Degrees Everywhere), Phase Two emo kids hate them (having been introduced to the Promise Ring through their poppier release, Very Emergency). It’s one of the only sure-fire ways to disguinguish how long an emo kid has been depressed.

Apparently, I’ve been depressed since 1995. But whatever. I liked the Promise Ring and even though I didn’t buy their last couple albums, I was a little sad when they broke up.

Why the heck am I on a rant about this? Well, Maritime includes two members of the Promise Ring and originally included the bass player from the Dismemberment Plan (another all-time favorite). Their first album was mostly alright, but fell a bit flat.

Their second album, We, the Vehicles, however, is best-of-genre emo. This album is intelligent, well rounded, fun, and, of course, emotional. It’s impossible to hate this album. Even the impossible-to-please Pitchfork succumbed to its charm. It won’t be remembered for breaking any new ground, but this album will definitely guarantee that Davey vonBohlen will be able to spend a few more years making money off his signature lisp-singing.

I highly recommend this one. We, the Vehicles might not be a perfect 10, but there’s something to be said for an album that you can listen to straight through without skipping tracks. And that’s alright with me. For me, this has been one of the most enjoyable albums of 2006.

Like A Star
From Corinne Bailey Rae

This music is so easy to fall in love with.

When Corinne Bailey Rae released her first album in the U.K. earlier this year, it was met with stunning success. It debuted at #1 on the Brit charts and she became an instant star. Her popularity starting rising like a river in a downpour and her music started popping up all over the world. By October, she was the guest on Saturday Night Live and in December, she received three Grammy Nominations: Record of the Year, Song of the Year, and Best New Artist. Now, I hate the Grammys like everyone else, but this is still a pretty phenomenal accomplishment for a freshman effort.

What’s more, she deserves every bit of press she gets.

It helps that she’s cute, but this girl plays her own guitar, writes her own music, and has a degree in English Literature. Her roots actually lie in indie music. When she was 16, her band Helen was signed to Roadrunner Records, home to parent-friendly bands like Cradle of Filth, Hatebreed, and Slipknot. The deal was short lived, but gave her a running start at a young age. It wasn’t until college that she started experimenting with soul music and this album is a direct outgrowth.

Like the Germs’ drummer Dottie Danger a generation ago, you’d never guess by listening to this album that she once shared letterheads with dirty metal bands. She’s grown up, grown out, and earned her place alongside the biggest names in the music industry. By the time her sophomore effort actually hits the shelves, she will be a bona fide superstar.

Call it a guilty pleasure, but I can’t get enough.

A New Language
From Functioning on Impatience

In 1998, Coalesce released this, their second full length album. The music was typical of the band: loud, fast, hard, angry, and intentionally confusing. Its seven songs (spanning a mere, though blistering 20 minutes) were recorded in a whirlwind 3 days and released by the relatively new record label Second Nature Recordings. They turned to a “Matt Jones” (who, as far as I can tell, has disappeared into obscurity) for the album design. This was the greatest decision Coalesce ever made as a band.

The cover of Functioning on Impatience is nothing short of graphic design perfection.

This is the standard by which all album covers should be judged. Working with what must have been a shoe string budget, Matt Jones and the members of Coalesce created a work of art. Since its release, the style has been mimicked and outright copied, but even after 8 years, it remains remarkably modern. It took years even for major marketing studios to properly utilize the design elements that are seamlessly represented on Functioning on Impatience. Some design techniques still look years ahead of their time.

In short, they did everything right. It is so good, in fact, that I bought the album on vinyl just so I could own a 12 inch version.

What makes this album cover so remarkable? It’s a combination of design tricks. The use of vellum (including reverse printing), metallic silver ink, non-clear plastic for the jewel case (it’s a kind of foggy tan), multi-layered design, clear and readable text using non-standard fonts while avoiding font overkill, clearly recognizable CD design, and an instantly recognizable shelf presence even from the side. I have never seen a better designed cover ever.

By the way, you will probably hate this music. But if you don’t already own this album, get it. It is worth whatever price you will pay just to enjoy this cover.