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.

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.

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.

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.

The Crane Wife
Released 3 October 2006

Must Own

It’s difficult to write music that people will like. It’s harder still to write bold music with broad appeal. But it’s nearly impossible to create an album that will be considered a “classic.” Relatively few artists have managed to climb this Mt. Everest of musical accomplishments and we all recognize the names of those who have: the Beatles, the Beach Boys, Nirvana, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Dr. Dre, Michael Jackson, OutKast, U2, Radiohead… There is a special place in music history reserved for these albums and always room in our CD collection.

Well, make room for one more.

Last year in my review of the Decemberists’ album Picaresque I wrote, “Wecome to the future of cool music. Deliberately theatrical, post-indie, emo-pop will be next year’s ‘alternative’. Mark my words.” Well, it’s true and everyone’s in on the act. TV On The Radio, The Hold Steady (self described as “America’s #1 bar band”), Yo La Tengo, Subtle, My Chemical Romance, even Grizzly Bear is getting ambitious. Everyone is testing the waters of concept music and it turns out we like it. And to push that analogy just a little bit too far, The Crane Wife is the deep end of that pool.

The Crane Wife is unexplainably great. Without exception, everyone with whom I’ve shared this album (“with whom.” how do ya like that?), even people who normally hate my music, have asked to hear it again. A co-worker actually went out to buy the album on her lunch break after hearing it one time. In a word, this album satisfies. I guarantee you will be hooked before the 1 minute mark of the very first song.

Wolf Like Me
From Return to Cookie Mountain

TV On The Radio makes music that is its own genre. Any number of hyphenated genres almost work. Soul-Punk. Indie-Funk. Alt-Fusion. Urban-New-Wave. Not only do these attempted definitions miss the mark by miles, they simply can’t do justice to the music itself. Nobody makes music like this. What’s more, nobody has ever tried. TVOTR have mastered the art of whatever it is they are trying to do. Welcome to the age of [nameless genre].

TV On the Radio makes music that is initially hard to listen to, possibly difficult to understand, and instantly easy to love. Mark my words when I tell you that this album will appear in almost every Top Ten list as the year comes to a close.

The first time I heard TVOTR, I thought the song was a fluke. The song was Satellite (posted below) and I couldn’t stop listening to it. The song was so different from anything I had ever heard. There was no way this band could fill an album with this sound. No. Way.

Well, forget filling an album, these guys are making a career with this sound. Return to Cookie Mountain is an adventure and everyone is along for the ride. It’s impressive when a band can create a stir without compromising their sound in any way. In fact, this album is even more [nameless genre] than their previous works. Surprisingly, the critics are eating it up. Whatever it is they’re doing right, they’re doing it very, very right.

Lazy Eye
From Carnavas

Most of the reviews of Silversun Pickups will compare them to the Smashing Pumpkins, which is fair. Personally, I’m reminded more of My Bloody Valentine. But there’s another comparision that I find much, much more intriguing. Especially with Carnavas, it’s the subtle similarity to Lift to Experience that grabs my attention. It’s not so much that they sound like Lift to Experience, so much as they feel like Lift to Experience. Hovering somewhere between hope and sadness, with just a touch of anger. Simultaniously hard and soft. A constant slow build that takes several minutes to deliver and when it finally releases its energy, you are left wanting more. A lot more.

The critic’s insistence on comparing Silversun Pickups to Smashing Pumpkins means that this may be one of the most under-rated albums of the year.

There’s a relatively small fraternity of people on earth who have made the commute from Orange County to Los Angeles. We don’t usually talk about being a part of this exclusive club, but when the subject comes up, it takes little more than a knowing nod and a roll of the eyes to communicate exactly when we went through. Those who have never made this regular commute simply can’t understand how frustrating it is. I mean, how could it possibly take 2 or 3 hours to drive 37 miles, right? And why would somebody do that daily? But when you’re making the commute you find ways to alleviate or ignore your aggravation. You find outlets for your irritation in any creative way you can imagine.

Carnavas feels exactly like that. Both the frustration and the release. Silversun Pickups are from Los Angeles and their music somehow manages to capture the frustrated intensity of the city.

If I were you, I would buy this album immediately.

Invincible
From Black Holes and Revelations

I’ll be honest, I have no idea why I got this album. I only heard one track on the radio, and I thought it was pretty cool, but not cool enough (at the time) to invest the time and effort into an entire album. But I got it. And I’ve made a remarkable discovery. Muse are what Radiohead could have been had they not gone lame after OK Computer. I can already hear the cries now, “Heretic! Traitor! Radiohead are as good as they’ve ever been!!!” Nope. You’re all either liars or really fooling yourselves. Radiohead took a steep downward spiral not long after discovering modular synths. And it was a steep spiral. I will grant you that both Kid A and Amnesiac had some really cool sounds, but those albums were nothing compared to their earlier genius. I thought that I was forever going to be yearning for the “old days”. And then I heard this song.

This is the sixth track from the album. I had only been halfway listening to it in the car but something about this track jumped out at me and I listened to it a few times. I couldn’t quite place it. It was oddly familiar. And then it came to me. This IS Radiohead. But not in the way that that new Mat Kearney single IS Coldplay. This is what Radiohead would’ve sounded like had they not gone the way of most mega-huge bands (Smashing Pumpkins anyone?). I’ve charted it out below if your curious just as to how this looks.

A friend of mine said that if I like this album, I’ll really love their first album as well. I’m definitely going to check it out. For the past several years, I’ve had the urge to hear some new Radiohead, but everytime I pick up a new Radiohead album, I’m bitterly disappointed. That urge is now satiated. And comparing these guys to Radiohead (could I use the word Radiohead a few more times?) is not saying that they’re a rip-off by any means. They’ve taken it to the next level. You listen and tell me that I’m wrong.

Cowbell
From The Loon

Tapes n’ Tapes is remarkable for being thoroughly unremarkable. Now if you’re a Tapes fans, before you get in a tizzy, let me explain myself.

There has been a serious influx of extremely complex music as of late. From the Decemberists to TV on the Radio, the trend is towards bigger, longer, or insanely produced songs. Even the Killers, who are already mega-famous, chose to create an epic, Springsteen-esque, arena-rock album for their sophomore effort. These days, the bigger, the better. Even more subtle bands like the Animal Collective or Sigur Rós (can I get away with calling Sigur Rós “subtle”…?) are hitting it big on big (in their cases, long and complex). I literally can’t imagine how these bands practice without an arena or a recording studio.

That is simply not the case for Tapes n’ Tapes. I can picture them perfectly fine plugging in their old and well-used guitars into older and just-plain-used amps, sitting around the garage, and writing an entire album. That’s beautiful.

This album is glorious, no frills rock and roll. There is nothing hidden and no theatrics. Nothing is over-produced (in fact, it’s charmingly under-produced) and nothing is wasted. In short, nothing remarkable.

Every time I listen to the album, not only do I like it more, but I want to like it more. I want to be a Tapes n’ Tapes fan. Maybe it’s my lingering punk rock youth holding desperately to the garage band days of yore or maybe it’s just a refreshing departure from the Shakiras on my radio. I don’t know what it it, but whatever it is, I like it. They’ve even managed to produce a couple videos which perfectly embody their simple, uncomplicated style.

The “scene” has dubbed these guys geniuses, which is fine, but a little unfair. Truth be told, it’s a little too high of a pedastal for my taste. If their next release is more of the same, simple style, I’ll be extremely happy. That’s exactly why I love this album. But then Pitchfork will give it a 5.4 for being disappointing and they won’t get played by the cool kids anymore. Let’s hope I’m wrong and Tapes can keep rockin’ for years.

By the way, he’s saying “shake,” not that other word that it sounds like he’s saying.