Posts Tagged ‘Massive Attack’

2007 Mixtape

Posted by Sarah on 9th December 2008 in Commentary, Lists

Part of the reason I haven’t been writing lately is because I’ve been prepping for an epic 2008 year-in-review kinda post, sorting through the roughly 300 albums I’ve nicked this year and making top album and song lists, among other things.

But before 2008, there was 2007: a year full of great releases. So I thought I’d wander through the dense forest of my iTunes and pick out my favorite songs–not from this year, but from the last one, in order to see what’s held up and what’s faded by the wayside.

The result is a 32 song trip down memory lane. Some of these tracks I’ve talked about before in the Mixtaper column or in other posts, but some, I hope will be a bit fresh. Because of the rather large number, I’ll strive for brevity in my comments on each. Ready? Okay then.

1. American Hearts by A.A. Bondy, from American Hearts
There’s something achingly gorgeous in this relatively simple folk track. Listen to his voice break ever so slightly when he sings the “don’t tread on me” lyric in the chorus. It gives me chills.

2. Coffee by Aesop Rock (ft John Darnielle), from None Shall Pass
The concluding track (excluding the hidden song) on an amazing and intelligent album features two of the best lyricists working today combining their powers. After Aes’s frenetic rapping, John’s ending verse sounds like an old soul sample recovered from a dirty basement. Plus, there’s the zombies.

3.  Fiery Crash by Andrew Bird, from Armchair Apocrypha
This track goes down smooth, driven by a pulsing beat and lilting melody. Even as it starts to build up as it moves along, it retains a very relaxed, urbane charm that characterizes Mr. Bird’s best work.

4. Keep the Car Running by Arcade Fire, from Neon Bible
One of the lighter tracks from Canada’s most melodramatic indie rock orchestra. This song rockets along over light, lush backing track as Win Butler shout-sings with his usual emotive intensity. The result is teeming with life, organic and refreshing.

5. The Ballad of Love and Hate by The Avett Brothers, from Emotionalism
Easily the strongest track from the alt-country band, a spare and haunting effort anchored by its strong and emotionally loaded lyric. The beautiful melody, sung with just the right restraint, coupled with the spareness of the arrangement makes the words that much more effective.

6. Wild Mountain Nation by Blitzen Trapper, from Wild Mountain Nation
This song is basically southern rock on acid. It’s got a stomping beat, twanging slide guitar and an appropriately dirty lead guitar, but the whole things sounds messy and fractured in a spectacular and interesting way. I dare you not to tap your foot to this.

7. Flume by Bon Iver, from For Emma, Forever Ago
The album as a whole is characterized by a haunting, wintry feel, and this song captures the best of that atmosphere. The moody acoustic strumming is buried under droning sounds and layered falsetto vocals that give the song a ghostly presence. I can’t find it, but if you can track down his 9/8/08 performance of this song on Late Night with Conan O’Brien, it blew me away.

8. On the Bubble by The Broken West, from I Can’t Go On, I’ll Go On
This song practically slaps you in the face with its bright indie-poppiness, right out of the gate. That towering, sugar-sweet riff is only the tip of the iceberg–the handclap beat and bounding guitars support an eager vocal, harmonized in just the right places. It’s like sunshine condensed into two minutes and 40 seconds.

9. Pale Horse by Canon Blue, from Colonies
The song opens with moody backwards riff that’s soon augmented by a hypnotic guitar, etherial piano chording and eventually an electro-backbeat, which kicks up just as the vocal launches into a reverb-soaked chorus. This is music for traveling on trains or walking around in winter–it’s open and chilly, but also inviting.

10. Melody Day by Caribou, from Andorra
There’s something retro about this song, like it’s been brought here from 1967 via time warp, but it’s been dressed in modern clothes. There’s a bedroom-electronic flavour layered under the psychedelic melody, twittering flutes, understated guitar and crashing cymbals. The result is something that’s both alien and familiar in a really peculiar and cool way.

11. Serpentine by Chris Bathgate, from A Cork Tale Wake
The richness of the voice, coupled with the singsong melody is what strikes me the most here. The song appears simple at first listen, but reveals a subtle complexity on each repeat–cellos intone under the gentle piano, just as a violin (or viola maybe) soars above it; it’s easy to not even notice the drums as they come in; the build is really beautifully executed.

12. Saint John by Cold War Kids, from Robbers & Cowards
If one could distill badass into a song, it might sound like this. A jailhouse murder ballad driven by a wicked bass and thundering drums, over which comes a snarling vocal, clearly from the wrong side of the tracks. By the time the honky tonk piano sweeps in, it’s become almost a gospel song in a perverse but awesome way.

13. Going Nowhere by Elliott Smith, from New Moon
Technically this song is at least 10 years old, but it saw its first official release last year and stands as one of the strongest tracks from the articulate, dark world of Elliott’s music. His raw vocal whispers its way through a melancholy melody and over his beautiful guitar, as though he were in the room playing for you, maybe after some drunken party, while your friends are passed out around on the floor.

14. My Moon My Man by Feist, from The Reminder
This was a tough call–the innocent sweetness of “One, Two, Three, Four” or the femme fatale stomp of this track? And it is a stomp; the song is rhythm driven but covered in velvet, especially Leslie’s vocal, wandering through the arrangement like a silk ribbon. It’s dangerous and kinda sexy.

15. Song Among the Pine by Gravenhurst, from The Western Lands
Something about this track has the air of some ancient, pagan hymn. Nick Talbot creates, out of guitar, voice and gentle hums and drones, a snow-covered forest on a crisp sunny day, where mystical things lurk just on the periphery. It’s positively haunting.

16. Your Rocky Spine by Great Lake Swimmers, from Ongiara
Although the album isn’t as strong as their prior two, this banjo-driven love song is one of the band’s better songs. Tony Dekker’s voice is ridiculously beautiful, as usual, and the melody and lyrics embrace you as the song moves forward along its open path with a certain moody sweetness.
 
17. Small Talk by Immaculate Machine, from Fables
Indie pop, yes, but with a tense flavour to it, created by a tight melody and the interplay between lead violins and guitars over an unrelenting bass. The lyrics reflect this tension, talking of secrets worming their way into a conversation that suddenly turns heavy.

18. Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car by Iron & Wine, from The Shepherd’s Dog
The thing about Sam Beam is that he progresses with each release, becoming slowly more complex and adventurous, while retaining the intimate southern charm that made him famous in the first place. This album, like its opening track, features more playful touches–piano runs, gentle beats, distorted sounds–while still sounding like some old uncle telling you a story at a family reunion picnic. The lightness does the music good, it doesn’t get mired in melodrama, although the lyrics retain an emotive character.

19. Teardrop by Jose Gonzalez, from In Our Nature
As with his cover of The Knife’s “Heartbeats,” Mr. Gonzalez manages to strip this Massive Attack song down to its naked spine, retaining the character of the original while also making it very much his own. The song itself lends itself perfectly to his quiet, echo-laden world–its powerful yet still spare.

20. Pink Light by Laura Veirs, from Saltbreakers
There’s something about that guitar riff that’s just irresistible and something literate and intelligent in the singer/songwriter/occasional Decemberist’s voice. Like a lot of the tracks on this list, this one seems to come from its own kind of mythical world where sails are tattered and winter wracks the bones of memory, all under ringing chimes and over skittering beats.

21. Hatchet by Low, from Drums & Guns
“Groovy” is not a word I would usually use to describe the slowcore Minnesotans of Low, but this track definitely qualifies as that. With their usual awesome male/female harmonies, Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker intone a wry lyric over a groovy beat and skeletal guitar riff, making this short song one of the most interesting in their catalogue.

22. 99% of Us is Failure by Matthew Good, from Hospital Music
When an album has a name like that, you’ve got to know you’re in for something like this, but this song is still a sucker-punch to the gut. There are a lot of songs about watching a loved one die, but the devil is in the details here; Good’s voice is expressive without being over the top, the lyrics are smart enough to have some pathos and the melody doesn’t hurt the picture, soaring over the ’90s alt-rock callback instrumentation.

23. Fake Empire by The National, from Boxer
There’s a grace to this song. Part of it comes from Matt Berninger’s low voice singing the almost detached melody. Part of it is the unobtrusive beat, driving under the pianos that grow stronger as the song builds. By the time the horn sounds come in, the track has become something else completely–a slice of smooth, modern pop/rock.

24. Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe by Okkervil River, from The Stage Names
This was a tough one–five of the nine songs on the album were under consideration for this list, but in the end, I had to pick this. The metaphor-dripping lyrics, the hurling vocal of Will Sheff, the anthemic nature of the instruments that support him–it’s all there. There’s a reason Okkervil River are one of my favorite bands and this is a great example of it.

25. Overture by Patrick Wolf, from The Magic Position
Now THAT is a violin riff. There’s something suitably epic about this affair; Mr. Wolf’s voice is laden with bravado, the beat pulses and thunders, the strings sweep in grand movements, etc. The contrast of electronic and acoustic instruments creates a cool effect also. Like Sam Beam, Patrick gets better with each successive release, and if this is this good, his next album better be damn well amazing.

26. Romantic Type by Pigeon Detectives, from Wait for Me
There is something appealing about straight-ahead, no frills rock ‘n’ roll and this song delivers on that front. It sounds in kind with the whole Franz Ferdinand-ish, “let’s draw from the late ’70s” thing, chugging forward there 2.5 minutes of crunchy guitars and a frenetic rhythm section, complete with the slowdown on the post-chorus. But it does it all really well, and that’s the key here.

27. House of Cards by Radiohead, from In Rainbows
Amidst all the tales of isolation, geopolitical statements and dystopian ruminations, Radiohead rarely get to write a straight love song, but here they’ve done it. Sort of–there is a certain doom-laden mood here, but it wouldn’t be Radiohead if there wasn’t. Everybody on the planet gushes about Radiohead, so I don’t have to explain why this song is awesome, really.

28. Rehab by Rihanna, from Good Girl Gone Bad
Say what you will, this chick can sing. Although not quite as cool as “Disturbia” (which is ineligible as it came out on the 2008 special edition of the album), there is something really appealing about this. Her voice isn’t being showy here, even though she’s capable of it, and the backing track feature a sweet, whirling piano. Proof that there is hope in the mainstream pop/R&B arena.

29. Overpowered by Roisin Murphy, from Overpowered
Formerly half of the dance pop band Moloko, Ms. Murphy creates the sound of robot sex on this track. It’s danceable, driven by a skittering low pad and plucking stabs over the top of a cybernetic vocal. Yet when she launches into the chorus, it’s with a “come hither” intonation that’s made more startling by the style of the verses. Great stuff.

30. Your Last Chariot by Scout Niblett, from This Fool Can Die Now
One of the shorter songs on Ms. Niblett’s best album since her 2001 debut, its a great showcase for her wailing vocal (see also: “Peoria Lunchbox Blues” by Songs:Ohia). The guitar, like the rest of the song around it, has a dirty, rural feel to it, not unlike ’90s Cat Power (an overused but apt comparison). There’s something dangerous about the affair as she repeats “comin’ to get ya…”

31. Sometimes by Siobhan Donaghy, from Ghosts
A standout track on one of the best pop albums of this century, the former Sugababe flexes her creative muscles, moving down a track that marries her teenybopper roots with Kate Bush-ish eccentricity. Listen to that high, spiraling vocal or the weird noises that dance in and out of the mix. The effect is to turn a simple bubblegum track into something weirdly spectacular.

32. Bouncing Off Clouds by Tori Amos, from American Doll Posse
Proving herself still vital, nearly 20 years after her first album and through a career marked by indulgent quirkiness, Tori put out one of the catchiest songs I can think of in this one. The melody is strong, the backing track isn’t showy but frames the vocal wonderfully, the lyrics… well, they’re Tori, but they’re not over the top. This manages to be both adult contemporary and appealing/interesting, a combination not easily achieved.

So that’s that list. 2007 was definitely a good year. I’m now off, ready to dive back into this year’s offerings–an even more diverse and intriguing set.

Mixtaper [Vol. 1]

Posted by Sarah on 19th August 2008 in Commentary, Lists

Basically, in the interest of self-discipline, I have decided to do a weekly feature for this blog where I highlight a few tracks that are rocking my world a little bit ATM. Right now, there’s no specified number or format or anything, but if I haven’t done another entry of this by next Tuesday morning, I urge Marshall to yell at me, okay dude?

In any case, on to the actual inaugural songs.

The Ballad of Love and Hate by The Avett Brothers, from Emotionalism [2007, Ramseur] // Listen on Youtube
This is a simple song, musically–it rests entirely on a gentle acoustic guitar and the clean vocal of either Scott or Seth Avett (I’m not sure which, I’m new to this band). It’s the gently lilting americana melody and great lyrics that make this one for me. Love and Hate are personified into sadly romantic people, and details about things like the clock in Hate’s kitchen being slow when he comes home late bring this abstracted story to vivid life. When Love says, towards the end of the song, “I’m yours and that’s it, whatever,” the almost disaffected nature of the statement makes it surreptitiously moving. This is a record I’ll be paying much more attention to in the coming week.

You Will Love This Song by Amber Rubarth, from New Green Lines [2008, Sounden] // Listen on Youtube (Live Version)
I came across this one listening to archived broadcasts of All Songs Considered at work and it kind of stuck in my head. It’s a “smart-folkie” type thing that wouldn’t sound out of place on the Juno soundtrack, but even if that’s kind of a turn-off, I’d still suggest giving this one a chance. The lyrics are the sort that seem sort of funny at first, but seem sadder every time I hear them, which I like, and she has a pleasant, strong voice. I want to hear more of this, but I haven’t been able to track down the record yet. The live version I’ve linked to is pretty close to the studio version, which you can find if you poke through that NPR link (which I would recommend doing anyway–it’s a great program).

Starla by Adem, from Takes [2008, Domino] // Listen on Youtube
Adem Ilhan has balls. This is a 4-minute, low-fi, acoustic cover of what was, originally, an 11-minute psychedelic jam-fest that’s essentially built around a single, repetitive riff, which was–as if that weren’t enough–written by Billy Corgan. And yet, unlikely as it is, it works. I don’t know how, but it does–it’s distinctive without losing the character of the original track (which is one of the better Smashing Pumpkins epics, IMO). And mind that endorsement comes from someone whose first album purchase was Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness. Props, Mr Ilhan, props.

Sometime Around Midnight by The Airborne Toxic Event, from The Airborne Toxic Event [2008, Musebox] // Listen on Youtube
The best description I can think of for this band kinda makes me want to hurt things–saying that they exist in a space somewhere between Vampire Weekend’s conscious hipster pop and Bright Eyes’s aching melodrama. And yet, and yet, and yet… seeing them perform this track on Conan a couple weeks ago was enough to pique my curiosity and it’s definitely the best track on the CD. This is because: first, it doesn’t have that post-Strokes guitar bop that most of the other tracks have, which has really gotten old at this point; second because this is a band that’s most suited to being overblown and epic and this song is the most that, so it feels the most natural; and third, because it genuinely has a pretty (if repetitive) melody. This is the kind of song you sing into a hairbrush when you’re damn sure you’re home alone, which is how I’ve been feeling lately, so maybe it strikes a chord for that.

Protection by Massive Attack, from Protection [1994, Virgin] // Listen on Youtube (Video Edit)
Nearly 2/3 of the precipitation Denver has gotten in 2008 has happened in the past week, so I’ve been in the mood for rainy-weather music and of all the tracks I’ve been listening to, this one seems the most perfect. Although Protection isn’t a landmark album on the caliber of Blue Lines or Mezzanine, this is definitely one of the band’s best singles–laid back, subtly shifting as it unfolds under the established-magnificent voice of Tracy Thorn (from Everything But the Girl, if you weren’t aware of that). Put this on and sit by a window next time it rains during the day–you’ll see what I mean.

She Was Only In It For the Rain by Rocky Votolato, from Makers [2006, Barsuk] // Listen on Youtube (Live Version)
Speaking of rain… Of all the heirs to the vacuum Elliott Smith left behind, Rocky’s probably my favorite, although his records seem to take a while to really sink in. I’ve been rediscovering this album lately and where “White Daisy Passing” was my favorite on it for a while, I think this has overtaken it. The live version I’ve linked to lacks the full impact–the haunting plucks on… what could be a violin, I think, and the low, ghostly organ tone. What are present are the lyrics, both spiteful and affectionate, and that cool momentary shift into a major key in the chorus before undercutting that hopefulness with the fall back into the minor.

And that’s what’s stuck in my head this week.

Ten Years Gone

Posted by Sarah K on 23rd June 2008 in Commentary, Lists

Back in 1998, I was in the unfortunate state of being 14.

There isn’t really much of an upside to that. But it was around that time that I started paying attention to what was going on in the world musically beyond my mom’s record collection (which, in relevant part, was Joni Mitchell, The Carpenters, Bread, Cat Stevens, that sort of thing). Looking back on it now, I listened to a lot of ridiculous stuff. But there were some gems in there also. I will attempt to represent both sides of that, as painful as some of it may be to acknowledge. No organized thoughts here, just memories/comments.

Thus, 10 assorted songs in a 1998 playlist:

1. Back of Your Head by Cat Power, from Moon Pix
I dunno where I even found this–I just stumbled across it. It might’ve been a random purchase from the local indie record shop where I grew up (the album does have a pretty cover, which would’ve been my standard). Whatever I was expecting, this probably wasn’t it, cos I remember my mind was blown–I stayed up all night listening to the whole album on repeat, this song in particular. The simplicity and starkness of it made it accessible; music was no longer this big thing that these glossy bands from some faraway land made. Instead it was something somebody like me could make and inhabit. That’s why hearing her in Starbucks when The Greatest came out was a weird experience for me–I’m not hating on her because she got big, but the feeling is different now. We’ve all changed, I guess.

2. At the Stars by Better Than Ezra, from How Does Your Garden Grow?
This song was always on the radio when I was getting ready for school and it grew on me so I bought the album. It’s… okay, but I still like this track a lot. There’s a certain innocent quality to the lyrics, which I think is part intentional, part the actual naivete of a pop band (if that makes any sense–it does in my head). Plus, listen to that wonderful piano part drifting in and out of the mix and the not-quite-overused string section… it’s sublime (unlike Sublime, but that’s for another day).

3. Freak on a Leash by Korn, from Follow the Leader
I haven’t listened to this song in at least 3 or 4 years, but hearing it now is strange. This thing was the shit when it came out–it and its fairly memorable music video were EVERYWHERE at the time. Hearing it now, the vocals and lyrics are so “OMGZ I’m so dizturbed guyz!!,” which might’ve been the appeal at the time, who knows, but it’s still kinda catchy musically (well, not the breakdown/bridge, but the verse/chorus part). That’s a neat guitar tone, I’ll give it that.

4. Do the Evolution by Pearl Jam, from Yield
Another song I remember more for the crazy video, and although the lyrics are a little… overt for Eddie, time has definitely been kinder to this one. The chugging riff is great and that choir breakdown, just jammed in there–that’s a brilliant touch. Skulls and spooky faces aside, I remember kinda wanting to be able to dance like the chick in the video (see 1:07 or so)… and I still kinda do.

5. Temptation Waits by Garbage, from Version 2.0
Another band that was everywhere that year (towards the end, if memory serves)–this is the song that sticks out the most on that album for me. I remember listening to this in the car a lot when I got the CD and being too sullen to groove to it outside my bedroom. Hah. Now, it has its charm, though I think I prefer their first album and it’s mood music either way. But I am kinda dancing a little, I’ll admit.

6. Rock is Dead by Marilyn Manson, from Mechanical Animals
Oh man. I bought this and Antichrist Superstar on the same day and I remember having to have a loooooong discussion with my mother about that (she insisted on going through both lyric booklets and reviewing the content herself, which I will give her credit for). This track was just kind of a sidenote on the album, but I remember liking and being excited when it was used on The Matrix soundtrack the next summer and got a video. At this point, I am conscious of how cartoonish the whole thing actually is, but I’ll give him (them, really) credit for pulling it off.

7. Sad Professor by R.E.M., from Up
I got Up from the library, in retrospect, what must’ve been shortly after it came out. It was the first R.E.M. CD I actually listened to and I remember liking it quite a lot, which I still do. There’s something really triumphant about this, even in its melancholy. Listen to when Michael Stipe kinda-yells “I started, I jumped up.” My appreciation for this track in particular has probably increased a good deal over time, but this was my introduction to one of my favorite bands.

8. The Couch by Alanis Morissette, from Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie
I was one of the 6 people in America who didn’t own a copy of Jagged Little Pill already when this album came out, so this was actually the one I got first after having my attention attracted by the video for Thank U. I liked this song in particular because of its perspective–I think this was the first time I was really aware of someone singing from a point of view that wasn’t their own and that was such a neat idea to me. Plus I’ve always loved words, so her tendency to cram every syllable she can into a song as opposed to following verse/chorus/verse structure was something I liked. Listening to this now, there’s something about it that kind of makes me cringe, but I can’t figure out what, since I still kind of like it. Maybe it’s just the memories attached to it, but then that’s actually something to be said for the music itself.

9. Pretty Fly (For a White Guy) by The Offspring, from Americana
I can’t not mention this, again because it was EVERYWHERE. This was such a weird album, cos it had really ridiculous songs like this, balanced out with (at least attempts at) more serious stuff on the non-single tracks. I’m not exactly an Offspring fan these days (though Smash has its moments) but the verse lyrics to this still make me laugh.

10. Teardrop by Massive Attack, from Mezzanine
An older friend was raving about this album so I bought a copy, despite the fact that it had a big bug on the cover. I don’t think I “got” it right away–most of it I was fairly indifferent to for a couple years, but I’ve always liked this song, partially just because I love Liz Fraser’s voice (it was a time before I learned who that actually was). The more I listened to it and the older I got, the more I started to figure out “You know, most of what I listen to isn’t this good.” And now I go back and listen to Mezzanine and think “How could I not have realized how note perfect this is?” It’s just interesting to think about how my taste has changed over time.

So, in the interest of spurring a discussion, what are some songs y’all remember from back in “the day,” whenever that might’ve been for you?