TOP 10 OF 2006: #1. Gnarls Barkley – St. Elsewhere

#1
Gnarls Barkley
St. Elsewhere

Depression. Schizophrenia. Suicide. Not the first topics most think of when it comes to booty-shaking hip-hop-influenced neo-soul. But then again, Gnarls Barkley has seemingly defied all conventional wisdom with 2006’s finest release, St. Elsewhere. This unlikely duo, a casual collaboration between former Goodie Mob member Cee-Lo Green and cutting-edge mixmaster DJ Danger Mouse, broke big-time with the most memorable (and most overplayed) track of the year, “Crazy.” This song about says it all, an undeniably funky blend of vintage drum loops, murky choir and taut bass lines, paired with a remarkably soulful vocal from Green that recalls Marvin Gaye at his finest. In fact, St. Elsewhere shares more than a few similarities with Gaye’s masterpiece What’s Going On, from the sense of flow to the serious soul-searching lyrics to the dramatic orchestration (here, meticulously assembled from bits and pieces of old Italian prog albums by Danger Mouse). But lest you think Gnarls Barkley is just one big downer, there’s plenty of playfulness as well, with hints of George Clinton silliness sneaking in to tracks like “The Boogie Monster” and “Who Cares?” Still, it’s the deeper stuff that sticks with you, from the menacing title track to the steadily growing chaos of “Just a Thought.” Even a seemingly minor chunk of funk like “Online” invites deeper, darker thoughts with the line “I’m with everybody, but I’m still alone.” Quite an achievement in itself, and just one tiny example amid an album so packed with unique riches that’s it’s destined to go down as one of the all-time classics.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #2. The Flaming Lips – At War with the Mystics

#2
The Flaming Lips
At War with the Mystics

The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots established The Flaming Lips as the most innovative, bizarre and truly transcendent act in modern psychedelic rock. Unbelievable as it seems, with At War with the Mystics, the Lips have created what may be their finest—and most diverse—release to date. It’s all here, from the ethereal, Beach Boys-like grandeur of “My Cosmic Autumn Rebellion” to the bouncy, almost cartoonish “Haven’t Got a Clue” and the astounding, Pink Floyd-esque “Pompeii AM Gotterdammerung.” But the undisputed centerpiece is “The W.A.N.D.,” a righteous slab of 70s-style socially conscious acid rock with a snarling fuzz-guitar riff guaranteed to bring a big grin to your face even as it shakes loose all the fillings in your mouth. Throughout the album runs a sense of outrage and disillusionment with the state of the world, uncharacteristic of a band that often seems blissfully optimistic and escapist. The result is an album that’s tightly focused, yet delightfully varied in style, and above all a pure delight.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #3. Joanna Newsom – Ys

 

#3
Joanna Newsom
Ys

Joanna Newsom is made of wood. Throughout the course of Ys, her voice squeaks, creaks, wobbles, moans, whistles and warbles like a knotty old oak, creating a sound that’s every bit as lilting and beautiful as it is splintered and rough-hewn—equal parts Tori Amos, Björk and Captain Beefheart, if you can imagine it. Meanwhile, she accompanies herself adeptly on that most ethereal of instruments, the harp, augmented by the expert orchestration of legendary Brian Wilson collaborator (and musical force in his own right) Van Dyke Parks. From its faux-Renaissance cover art to its long, meandering tracks and highly poetic and imagistic lyrics, Ys is clearly not an album to be taken lightly. In fact, some might accuse Newsom of self-indulgence. But it’s this very uncompromising quality that makes the album so incredibly compelling. Give it time, and Newsom’s deeply felt, carefully constructed and brilliantly performed music will intoxicate you and leave you feeling dazed and disoriented afterward. Either that or you’ll absolutely hate it.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #4. Sufjan Stevens – The Avalanche

#4
Sufjan Stevens
The Avalanche

(Read full review from 11/28/06)

TOP 10 OF 2006: #5. The Fiery Furnaces – Bitter Tea

#5
The Fiery Furnaces
Bitter Tea

This year’s proper Fiery Furnaces release features what might be the most consistent stretch of music the duo has ever put together, starting with the first track, “In My Little Thatched Hut,” moving into the superb “I’m in No Mood” and finishing up a few songs later with “Teach Me Sweetheart.” All the things that make the Furnaces so great, so original (and so despised by many listeners) are fully realized here—from Eleanor Friedberger’s jumbled, yet insistent vocal delivery to the jarring tempo and sonic changes to the bordering-on-fetishistic use of bleating analog synths, backwards vocals and tack piano and, above all, an unquenchable sense of adventure. In places, Bitter Tea comes close to equalling the band’s 2004 masterpiece, Blueberry Boat, but unfortunately, the latter half of the album loses focus. Nevertheless, it’s an impressive achievement by one of indie rock’s most truly progressive acts.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #6. Matthew Friedberger – Winter Women/Holy Ghost Language School

#6
Matthew Friedberger
Winter Women/Holy Ghost Language School

Say what you will about Friedberger, the male half of The Fiery Furnaces, but you certainly can’t call him a slacker. This, his first solo outing (following his band’s 2006 release Bitter Tea by only a few months) comprises two albums in one package, each with its own distinct personality. Winter Women is packed with hazy, summery tracks (ah, the irony) chock full of pop hooks. But in typical fashion, Friedberger has chopped them up, filling them with abrupt mood changes and obtuse, often barely audible lyrics, not to mention heaps of vintage Mellotrons, beat boxes and squelching synthesizers. Meanwhile, Holy Ghost Language School poses an even bigger challenge, with jagged heaps of repetition buoyed by clattering pianos, an old-school drum machine and a near-impenetrable concept involving shady business deals and speaking in tongues. On paper, it sounds like a mess, but somehow Friedberger’s boundless ingenuity and playfulness make it all work, with clever turns of phrase and breathtaking musical details emerging with each successive listen.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #7. The Decemberists – The Crane Wife

#7
The Decemberists
The Crane Wife

Folk purists may bemoan this celebrated Portland, Oregon group’s move to a non-indie label and toward a more diverse, rock-influenced sound, but The Crane Wife proves that Colin Meloy and company’s evolution was justified. The album is littered with superb, highly literate folk-rock, including the chilling “Shankhill Butchers” and “The Crane Wife 1 & 2,” a Japanese fable, retold with exquisite and emotional aplomb. But most impressive is “The Island,” a multipart epic that, like The Tain (the band’s 2004 EP) recalls Jethro Tull’s 1970s folk-prog masterpiece Thick as a Brick, both in its clever lyrical turns and in its musical complexity.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #8. Mew – And the Glass Handed Kites

#8
Mew
And the Glass Handed Kites

This curiously titled album with a curiously Queen-like album cover comes from Danish band Mew, and establishes a whole new sub-genre: 80s-throwback-Euro-neo-prog-arena-indie rock. Got all that? Fortunately, their sound is more easily heard than described, and for the most part works brilliantly. While tracks like “The Zookeeper’s Boy” and “Apocalypso” stand out as the most memorable, complete with soaring vocal hooks, brooding atmospherics and heavy guitar riffing, the album has a nice continuous flow, making it much more than the sum of its parts.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #9. Beck – The Information

#9
Beck
The Information

Though not as consistently excellent as last year’s Guero, The Information is a deep, heavy delight from this postmodern master of cut-and-paste pop, boasting some marvelous tracks, like the quirky piano-driven “Think I’m in Love” and the Rolling Stones-esque raunch of “Strange Apparition.” And then there’s the simply breathtaking “Cellphone’s Dead,” joining together Frankenstein-like a vintage 70s funk lick (nicked from Herbie Hancock and the Headhunters) with Latin-by-way-of-Bollywood house beats and a sublime multi-tracked vocal choir ending, reminiscent of The Beatles’ “A Day in the Life.” If only all the songs lived up to these high water marks—but alas, the album suffers from a bit of sameness.

TOP 10 OF 2006: #10. Mike Keneally Band – Guitar Therapy Live

#10
Mike Keneally Band
Guitar Therapy Live

(Read full review from 8/16/06)

Coming Soon to the Curiouser

In honor of the holiday season (and the end of the year), The Curiouser Music Review will be featuring a special series of "mini-reviews," counting down the top 10 albums of 2006 (why 10? Take the 12 days of Christmas, add the 8 nights of Chanukah, and divide by 2).

Make sure to visit the site over the next few days and discover all the music you should have been listening to this year.

REVIEW: Sufjan Stevens – The Avalanche

Sufjan Stevens
The Avalanche: Outtakes and Extras
from the Illinois Album


Seemingly out of nowhere, indie/folk/orchestral popster Sufjan Stevens emerged with arguably the best album of 2005 (and, quite possibly, of the new millennium) in Illinois.

As part two of his proposed “50 States” project, Stevens’s ode to the Prairie State presented a sprawling 75-minute epic, marrying his hushed, vulnerable (but never melodramatic) vocals with plunking banjos, bleating horn sections, skittering woodwinds and community chorus-style backing vocals. The effect was fresh, striking, and thoroughly American—a sort of Paul Simon folk troubadour sensitivity, paired with Brian Wilson orchestration, Steve Reich minimalism and wide-eyed Polyphonic Spree bombast.

And while Stevens has been accused by some of creating the auditory equivalent of a Fodor’s travel guide, skimming the surface details of the state without ever plumbing its depths, what these critics seem to miss is that the whole state thing is really just a backdrop against which the singer/composer can play out his deeply felt stories of love, loss, memory, spirituality and yearning. It wouldn’t matter whether it was set in Kalamazoo or Kazakhstan—the humanity of the characters and situations he describes resonates all the same.

Reportedly, Illinois was conceived as a double-disc set before being trimmed, and the “leftovers” are collected here on his latest release. So, in a way, The Avalanche could really be described as a sort of B-side doppelgänger of the Illinois album. Certainly, there are many surface similarities—from name-dropping famous historical figures like Saul Bellow and Adlai Stevenson to curious instrumental interludes and long, outrageous song titles (“The Vivian Girls Are Visited in the Night by Saint Dargarius and His Squadron of Benevolent Butterflies,” anyone?). There are even three alternate takes of Illinois’s most accessible track, “Chicago,” including a truly fascinating “Multiple Personality Disorder” version.

Dig deeper, and you’ll find further parallels, like the blend of spare, folksy tracks with larger-scale, more heavily orchestrated, odd-time-signature-based sing-alongs. And despite the fact that this is technically an album of outtakes, there’s a sense of flow that recalls—you guessed it—Illinois.

But let’s be clear—as good as The Avalanche may be, it’s not on the same level as Illinois, and it was never meant to be. The album was “shamelessly compiled by Sufjan Stevens,” according to the liner notes, which suggests that it’s intended as a stopgap while Stevens no doubt develops new material for Arkansas, Delaware, North Dakota, et. al.

Still, it rises miles above what you’d expect from a collection of “outtakes and extras,” sounding remarkably polished and complete. Honestly, had it not arrived on the heels of such a highly regarded release, The Avalanche would likely contend for album-of-the-year honors. And while it may not represent any major advance from his previous efforts, this still stands as a highly recommended document of the superb, beautiful, life-affirming music we’ve come to expect from Sufjan Stevens.

May it continue for 48 more states, the District of Columbia, the Canadian provinces and beyond.

Site Update

Keep your eye on the CMR over the next few weeks for a bunch of new reviews, covering everyone from Sufjan Stevens and Matthew Friedberger (of The Fiery Furnaces) to TV on the Radio.

And just a reminder: If you have any suggestions on the site, feel free to post in the comments section.

Thanks, and enjoy.

REVIEW: Thom Yorke – The Eraser

Thom Yorke
The Eraser


There are two types of Radiohead fans: those who like everything the band did up through OK Computer, and those who like everything they’ve done from OK Computer on. I count myself among the latter camp, viewing the abstract experimental/electronic left turn they took on albums like Kid A and Amnesiac as a big artistic step forward from the less distinctive, alternative guitar-rock approach of The Bends.

So why is it that I find The Eraser, the debut solo release from Radiohead lead singer Thom Yorke, to be so—well—unexciting? After all, it follows a very similar stylistic path to the band’s recent output, replete with glitchy samples, brooding electronics and, of course, Yorke’s fluid, stirring vocals, that even when subdued, always threaten to boil over into edge-ridden angst.

Quite simply, the fault lies in the two most basic building blocks of any recording: the songwriting and production. Let’s address the latter first: Yorke has recruited long-time Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich to man the boards, but unlike on the band’s last full-length, Hail to the Thief, there’s little sense of expansiveness or texture here. Somehow, even more organic sounds like a funk bass guitar or acoustic piano take on the dry and brittle profile of a MIDI file streaming off a laptop. Perhaps this was a conscious artistic decision, but even so, the net result is less wall-of-sound and more washroom.

However, the primary failing of The Eraser is that it simply doesn’t offer much in the way of musical development—it mostly follows the formula of establishing a static groove, then repeating it ad nauseum. In certain cases, this works effectively. Take “Black Swan,” for instance, a hypnotizing array of squelching bass, twangy guitar arpeggios and marvelously restrained vocal lines that manage to wring maximum emotion out of lyrics like “With your fingers, you can touch me.” Meanwhile, the title track, which opens the disc, makes its case with an off-kilter drum machine rhythm and scratchy sampled piano chords, buoyed by Yorke’s soaring, deeply felt vocal performance.

Otherwise, we mostly get distillations and fun-house reflections of Radiohead songs past, like the vaguely Middle Eastern “Analyse” (see “Backdrifts” off Hail to the Thief) and the nocturnal chill of “And It Rained All Night” (see the same album for “The Gloaming”).

Which is not to say The Eraser is a bad, or even mediocre, album. Despite its considerable flaws, it’s still quite an appealing listen. But clearly it suffers when placed alongside Radiohead’s output of the past decade. It may be unfair to have such high expectations of a premier solo outing, and, possibly for this very reason, Yorke’s album has been released with little in the way of advance hype. But how can you not miss the propulsive rhythms of Phil Selway beating on real, honest-to-god drums (even if buried under layers of effects processors)? Or Jonny Greenwood twiddling the knobs of vintage groove boxes in between washes of six-string distortion?

Overall, what The Eraser lacks is a feeling of dramatic movement, the sense that, at any time, all those bleeping keyboards, unapologetically synthetic drum machines and anesthetized vocal fragments could be leading us somewhere, breaking suddenly out of lock-step to coalesce into something passionately human. This is the dynamic that has made every Radiohead album starting with OK Computer so marvelously transcendent, and it’s sorely lacking here.

REVIEW: The Residents – River of Crime, Episodes 1–5

The Residents
River of Crime, Episodes 1–5


Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The eyeball knows!

Yes, the radio mystery drama has finally received the Residential treatment in the form of River of Crime, a five-episode (thus far) serial in the spirit of the 1940s, only with a decidedly 21st-century twist: The group—around for over 30 years, and famous for both their anonymity and trademark giant eyeball masks—has released each episode in the form of a paid “podcast.” In essence, they’re MP3 files available on iTunes and the Cordless Recordings Web site. Of course, by paying a little more for a “subscription,” you get album art and silk-screened CD-Rs onto which you can burn your MP3s, plus extras like episode scripts and exclusive tracks, including a lengthy River of Crime instrumental suite.

Technical aspects aside, this is everything you’d expect from The Residents—darkly humorous; unfailingly disturbing; full of oddball characters, potent imagery, and brooding, evocative atmospheres. What you might not expect is that, here, music plays a supporting role to the text.

The soundtrack is truly that—a soundtrack—serving primarily to set the tone for a highly engaging story. The familiar, frantic, Louisiana-twinged singing (or, in this case, speaking) Resident is our narrator and central character, setting up each episode in an alternately folksy, endearing and troubled fashion. The subject matter is disconcerting, even by Resident standards, running the gamut from electrocuted elephants and man-eating alligators to molesters and murderers, complete with graphic descriptions and generous helpings of adult language. But as with Humbert Humbert from Nabokov’s Lolita, we feel strangely sympathetic to our crime-addicted narrator, pitying him as his curious proclivities entrap him ever more in a work of darkness. The scriptwriting is wonderfully gripping, with the narrator turning in terrific performances throughout. The remainder of the voice acting varies in quality but never gets in the way of the potency of the stories.

Those who come at this from a more musical angle might find themselves disappointed, particularly on the heels of last year’s brilliant Animal Lover (they go so far as to tease us with a melody from that album in each episode’s opening sequence). But when taken in the way it was intended—as an updated radio-style serial drama with musical accompaniment—River of Crime makes for quite the memorable ride. Now let’s just hope The Residents don’t abandon the story before it reaches its real conclusion as they did with the Mole Trilogy. Now that would be a crime.

REVIEW: Mike Keneally Band – Guitar Therapy Live

Mike Keneally Band
Guitar Therapy Live


Former Zappa acolyte Mike Keneally and company said they would “bring the rock” with their latest live release. And boy, they weren’t kidding. Guitar Therapy Live is a testament to taking complex rock music to the stage and really making it, well, rock.

For those who have been following Keneally’s long and fruitful solo career, this may come as a bit of a surprise. Lately, he seems to have headed on a slow trajectory away from the heavy and more toward the heady, what with recent releases for orchestra (The Universe Will Provide), solo piano (Vai: Piano Transcriptions, Vol. 1) and acoustic instruments (Wooden Smoke).

True, the Mike Keneally Band’s last studio release, Dog, had its share of rocking moments, but they were frequently tempered by electronic interludes and gentle (if bizarre) vocal ditties. Not so much here—this is a mostly unrelenting shred-fest that deftly navigates the quirky left-turns and brilliant songwriting you expect from Keneally, while rarely easing up on the throttle. In some ways, it recalls the raw energy of Keneally’s classic Beer for Dolphins mid-90s power trio gigs, only with more finesse and self-assurance. This is a very good thing.

Just listen to their rendition of “Lightnin’ Roy”—a densely packed electronic prog-rock epic from the studio album hat. that, live, transforms into a guitar-heavy fusion rock-out worthy of the Dixie Dregs at their prime (complete with locked-in lightning-fast guitar duels and faux-country sing-along). Also originally from hat., “Uglytown” sports a cranked-up middle instrumental section building to a King Crimson-ish level of intensity before suddenly reigning it all back in. Heck, somewhere in the middle of the album, percussionist Joe Travers even turns in an old-school drum solo that wouldn’t be out of place at a Zeppelin concert.

Of course, there are a few moments of relative calm amid all the string-slinging: Notably “Machupicchu,” a haunting acoustic piece from Wooden Smoke, and “Hum,” a tasty excerpt from Keneally’s solo Nonkertompf album—although this eventually blasts off into full-blown electric righteousness.

Also worth noting is that practically every major Keneally studio release is represented here, with heavy emphasis on earlier material like hat. and Boil That Dust Speck. Notably absent from the proceedings: the 2000 release Dancing. Appropriate, considering this excellent live set is hardly light on its feet.

A Little History

For those who may have never heard of it, The Curiouser Music Review was originally founded sometime in the late 1990s as a Web-based repository of various music reviews of mine that had appeared in The Daily Texan, the University of Texas at Austin's campus newspaper. After I graduated from graduate school (thereby becoming a "mega-super-graduate"), the site continued on for a while as an original source of album and concert reviews, before dwindling away as family and career demands came increasingly to the fore. Now, nearly 10 years later, it's back. Rejoice, o people, rejoice.

Welcome Back, My Friends

The Curiouser Music Review will return soon. Be sure to bookmark curiousermusic.blogspot.com and check back for reviews of curious new album releases by Mike Keneally Band, The Residents, Thom Yorke and more.