Andrew's #8 - "We Used to Wait" by the Arcade Fire

We Used to Wait by the Arcade Fire

Andrew

I've labored over this spot on my list longer than any other. I know I love this song but is it in my top ten of the year? Why not "Suburban War", off the same album? That song is classic Arcade Fire: the pensive, nostalgic build followed by the moment where everything changes. The rhythm shifts and they go for broke, casting off the ambling first half and ending in the sort of theatrical explosion the band has become famous for.

Or why not "Helicopter" by Deerhunter: a spare, swirling, stunning meditation on the apocryphal downfall and ultimate demise of Russian sex-slave Dima, who was supposedly thrown out of a helicopter in the Russian wilderness when his mob owners tired of him.

I honestly love all of these songs but I'm going with "We Used to Wait". And I guess I'm still not entirely sure why. I do know that it was the first song I heard off The Suburbs and to me it exemplifies a new direction for the Arcade Fire, a band that delivers on everything it produces without ever repeating itself. There is a tautness and focus in the instrumentation of this song that I haven't heard in their earlier work; the metronomic drumming and piano melody help highlight the tension buried in Win Butler's lyrics. The song is simultaneously nostalgic and forward looking: Butler sings of the loss of the way things were, even as the song hurtles forward toward the future. The melody is muscular but facile; the lyrics evoke thoughts and fears that make a lot of sense to me. I don't know. I feel circular and hackneyed writing about it.

The Arcade Fire is a complicated band and my feelings about this song are complicated and hard to put my finger on. But the Arcade Fire never fails to disappoint and I think this is one of the best songs of 2011.


Seth

Oh boy. Okay, here we go...I always knew that I'd end up being the Mike Love of this blog, I just had no idea that it would come so soon. First things first: this makes you three for three on picking songs I haven't heard yet, although this time I have a better reason than laziness.

So I'll just go ahead and say it...I don't like the Arcade Fire. I was the only bespectacled rock nerd with an uncommitted haircut and a fondness for sweaters who didn't give a flying fuck about Funeral back in 2004. Something about the Arcade Fire just felt false and ersatz to me.

I felt somewhat vindicated in 2007 when many of my Funeral-loving friends slammed Neon Bible. I didn't hear a huge difference between the two records (I'll admit that "Wake Up" and
"Rebellion (Lies)" from Funeral did a little bit for me) and they both had, to me, the same problem: Win Butler's lyrics.

Every time I listen to the Arcade Fire, no matter how much I want to like the song, I just hear high school notebook poetry over swelling, meet-thy-maker sonics. I think Butler is right up there with Conor Oberst in the Pantheon of Angsty Lyricists. I've never heard anything in an Arcade Fire song that had any meaning for me at all. (I actually learned more about myself from a chance rehearing of "The Things We Do For Love" by 10cc tonight).

"We Used to Wait" leaves me in pretty much the same place as every other AF song I've heard. It's not that the music is bad--it's an excellent example of a certain type of indie rock executed perfectly. I've just always been a lyrics guy and Butler's don't stick for me. Plus, I've already got my Canadian Supergroup bases covered in the New Pornos, Wolf Parade, Broken Social Scene and Swan Lake.

Seth's #9 - "Phone" by Magic Kids

 
Phone by Magic Kids 

Seth

"Phone," a sweet little number from Memphis power-poppers Magic Kids, opens with a quasi-melancholic swell of strings before launching into a deceptively bouncy ode to the tyranny of distance. Lead singer Bennett Foster's improbably high falsetto joins those other hallmarks of the power-pop genre--jingly toy piano, British Invasion keyboards, Motownish horns, bright guitar, and snappy drums--in a two minute sugar rush that, if you were ignoring the lyrics, would qualify these Kids for the Badfinger Award in Disposable Beatles Knockoffs.

Foster's lyrics, while erring a bit on the cloying side of the Twee Spectrum (I'm going to copyright that), provide a subtly dark contrast to the upbeat tone of the song's verses. He's in familiar territory, singing to a girl as he waits for her to call. As with all great rock writing, though, the devil is in the details. Lines like "I'm scared when you're leaving me here alone," and "I only exist when you see me" betray an alarming level of co-dependence. "Phone on my face as I'm lying awake in bed," he begins the next verse, before saying later "gonna hold you so tight while I'm dreaming..." in what might be the year's least likely reference to the works of Sir Philip Sidney. The amount of energy he seems to be expending just waiting on this phone call makes me think that Foster might be singing to a girl who doesn't even know he's alive rather than a traveling girlfriend.

Of course, I spent a lot of time with this song during a notably lonely time in my life last year, so maybe (definitely) that's all projection. Any song that can so thoroughly intertwine itself into a period of my life and evoke such strong associations deserves inclusion on my list. Besides that, this song is a pretty perfect blast of power-pop, a criminally underrated genre of the indie rock universe. Unfortunately, the rest of the Magic Kids record is more miss than hit, but their ability to write incredibly sweet and poppy songs (not to mention their dynamite live show) makes me hopeful about their future.

Andrew

This song is devious!  At first listen, I thought "Phone" sounded like the theme song to a 1960's British version of Friends* but, my god, this song has taken root in the pleasure center of my brain and refuses to be plucked.  That is some terrible writing, but this song makes me dumb with happiness!

I've been vocal in the past about my slight disdain for music that sounds like it could have been made in another decade.  I have an unreasonable obsession with things that sound/look/taste like they are from here and now.  But I'm coming around to music like this that strongly evokes another time.  "Phone" brings me back to my days at Oxford with Nigel, Sophie, Reginald, and Ben Whishaw**.  It makes me want to skip through the park in a sweater even though it's summertime.

All joking aside, I am really, really fond of this song.  It's catchy, propulsive, combines disparate moods in the melody and lyrics (something that I am often enamored with) and doesn't outstay its welcome***.  Though, I'm sorry Seth, but Foster's vocal delivery ranks about an "11" (or, "Belle and Sebastian Playing Croquet") on the Twee Spectrum.  But, fuck it!  Let's throw on  some sweaters and an unreasonable amount of corduroy and skip through the park to this song the next time you're in town.


*It's called Mates and it's just as terrible as the American version.

**Who the fuck is Ben Whishaw?  And how do the British get these names?  Benedict Cumberbatch?!  You are FUCKING with me!

***Who let these french horns in here?  Scat!  Scat! 

Andrew's #9 - "Intil" by Menomena

Intil by Menomena

Andrew

Menomena is a band primarily known for its collaborative experimentation. The band members use a self-designed recording device called "The Dealer" to record a couple bars from one instrument at a time. They go around the room, allowing each band member to contribute a layer at a time. This often results in complex, sonically bizarre songs, with components and instruments appearing and disappearing sometimes seemingly at random.

Which is what makes their simple, straightforward songs that much more impressive. On their previous album, Friend and Foe, it was the soaring, haunting "My My" and on their newest album, Mines, it is the spare, plaintive piano ballad "Intil".

The lyrics hint at a relationship not broken, but wounded. Distance and miscommunication lead to the lovers hiding more and more. "Times when I'm with you/I'm really not myself," sings co-lead-singer Brent Knopf* [who recently left the band (boo!)]. It's a feeling that I, and probably many of us, have felt all too keenly in the past. This is what makes this song stand out from the other strong tracks on the album. It feels like mine. Like it was made for me.

The song swells and spirals, coming full circle by ending with the same lyric it began with, then dying out completely. After 30 seconds of silence, distant voices and a simple piano melody swell briefly and disappear. It's a beautiful ending to a beautiful song.


*Dartmouth alum from '00. Go Big Green!

Seth

Another Andrew post, another song I hadn't heard yet. For whatever reason, I sort of missed the boat on Menomena. Friend and Foe didn't set my world on fire like it did for so many indie rock fans back in '07 and I've still never heard either of their first two. I heard the first half of Mines back in July when I was hanging out in a record store in Brooklyn and, while I enjoyed it, I almost immediately deleted it from memory. I guess I had to draw the line somewhere on Music for Dudes with Beards and Menomena just didn't make the cut.

Having listened to "Intil," though, I could easily forsee a future where that's not the case. It reminds me of Grizzly Bear in a lot of ways (another band I don't like as much as every other human like me). I like the way that the sparseness of the lyrics matches the minimalism of the accompaniment because there's no wasted gestures. Speaking of lyrics, I see what Andrew said about a damaged relationship, which makes sense...but I also get a bit of the odd combination of regret and relief that accompany the final stages of a relationship when both people know it's doomed but want to hold on just a little bit longer.

So let's take a bet on whether or not I've heard Andrew's next song!

Seth's #10 - "California Gurls" by Katy Perry

California Gurls (ft. Snoop Dogg) by Katy Perry 

Seth

I have a sneaking suspicion that Andrew is going to barbecue me on this one, but here goes anyway. Say what you will about Katy Perry--that she's a soulless talent vacuum, a glass-eyed cipher, more famous for what's in her bra (or shooting out of it, given the time of day) than her music--but watch what this song does to a dance floor long about 1am and then deny it's a gem. Hell, I once saw a group of thirtysomething dudes with beards go nuts when this song came on. One of them even gave me a hug for putting it on the jukebox.

Nobody's ever going to mistake KP for a great pop artist: she's not cool like Robyn, dynamic like Beyonce or nuts like Gaga and most of her music sounds like it was made with her voice as an afterthought. For these four minutes, though, Perry might as well be Madonna for as much femmy firepower as she packs. The lyrics are a gloriously stupid ode to West Coast women and the men who love them (which is all of us, apparently). Perry (or at least the affable robots who manipulate her) gives a charming, fluttery vocal performance that sounds like she was actually awake for the recording, unlike the majority of her work. The music, oddly minimalistic for a pop single, chugs happily along through while K-T and Snoop Dogg memorialize the curvy anatomical superiority of, yep, California girls.

I get it, this song is stupid. There were many songs this year that meant more to me personally than this one--most of which won't make this list--but the summer's biggest, dumbest pop single just feels like a sugary blast of fun that will always remind me of 2010. Sometimes it's nice to indulge in things that are bad for you, like whiskey or Fox News. And all you hipster kids will love the twenty-minute Discodeine remix!

Andrew

I fired up the grill, dry-cleaned my best oven mitts, and threw on my "Blumpkin the Cook" apron...until I remembered that I had this song on heavy repeat for a while this summer. 

I don't begrudge anybody a little trashy pop.  Hell, I partake heavily myself at times.  I love that we live in a world where it's totally fine - nay, cool - for a hipster to have Lady Gaga follow My Bloody Valentine on his "Frickin' Awesome" playlist*.

My issue with this song is its aforementioned minimalism.  Katy Perry's voice is thin and her lyrics are mentally disabled but throw some chunky trance-stomp synths behind her and you've got a hit ("I Kissed a Girl").  In "California Gurls" though, the only musical element that I hear is the annoyingly insistent drum-beat.  The guitars, bass, and synth recede into the background and we're left with Perry's underwhelming voice and the THWACK-THWACK-THWACK of the drums.  But, look, it's catchy.  And as an unabashed fan of gurls from California, I can sign off on the message.

And on a final note, I am by no means an arbiter of cred but I have to assume that Snoop Dogg lost all of his when he appeared in this video. 


*A hipster has never titled his or her playlist thusly. 

Andrew's #10 - "Impossible Soul" by Sufjan Stevens

Impossible Soul (Part I) by Sufjan Stevens 
Impossible Soul (Part II) by Sufjan Stevens 

Andrew

My number ten spot is serving as a neither-here-nor-there-honorable-mention type spot. Because I know I love this song but I have no idea where to put it.

In my butt.

Modern mad-scientist/folk singer/orchestral composer, Sufjan Stevens, was famous(ish)ly quoted in a 2009 Paste Magazine article as no longer having any faith in the song as a method of conveying music. To Sufjan fans, like myself, this sounded like a terrifying admission of artistic confusion. Fortunately, Stevens handled the career roadblock brilliantly: with a ten-minute epic on the compilation "Dark Was The Night", a sprawling multi-media experience about a stretch of highway, and now this 25-minute beast.

There are forgettable sections, undoubtedly, but as Ryan Dombal of Pitchfork aptly points out, the track "bulges with more engaging ideas than most artists could muster in a career." The track speaks for itself in its own way, even if it is a bit verbose, but I would like to specifically point listeners to the dead center of the song (minutes 9 to 18), where Stevens segues from a heartbreaking (and genuine!) auto-tuned ballad into one of the foot-stompingest, most life-affirming sections of any song released this year.

Seth

Wow. I'll confess that I broke up with Sufjan after Illinoise. I'm happy he's still making music, but I don't find myself reaching for his records all that often anymore. Both Seven Swans and Michigan were pretty big parts of my life in my freshman and sophomore years of college but something about Illinoise just didn't move me like it did almost everyone else. I prefer Stevens when he's less bombastic and more direct (cf. "To Be Alone With You" from Seven Swans). In the spirit of fairness, however, I gave "Impossible Soul" a spin and I have to say...wow.

After hearing this song (all 25 minutes of it), I think that I was wrong to jump the Sufjan ship. There are some sections where he loses me--notably the sub-of Montreal falsetto computerized "don't be distracted" swirliness before the best use of autotune since the Gregory brothers started making the news sing. Ultimately, the whole thing is a testament to Stevens' versatility and his unique ability to incorporate electronics (though I'd still advise the readers to skip Enjoy Your Rabbit) and traditional folk music styles into something nobody else would ever think to do. While I may not be a true believer anymore, I think Sufjan Stevens is among the most creative voices working in pop music today. Listen to this song for proof.

How this is going to go.

To fire this bitch up, Seth and I are going to start off by responding to each others' favorite music of the year.  We'll do our top ten songs of the year, then do our top five albums of the year.  I'll post song number ten and write about it; Seth will respond then post his own number ten, which I will respond to.  Et cetera.  Et cetera.  Ad nauseum.  Nad awesiome.

More or less what we here are attempting to do.

One thing that's always struck me about music reviews is the general certainty of the reviewer.  "This lyric means this," "this bridge has such and such an effect".  And while I have a certain appreciation for confident assertion, I've always found art (and music in particular) a little trickier than critics make it out to be.

Whenever I think I might have an idea I say it out loud.  Whether I believe it yet or not, I throw it out into the world to see what people (usually my generous and understanding friends) think about it.  Once I've heard their reactions to my nascent thought, I pass a verdict on the idea.  I've formed the majority of my personality (opinions, beliefs, "ethics", "morals", etc.) this way and I thought it might be a great way to approach reviewing music (and other things).

This idea is not original (Messrs. Siskel and Ebert) but then again neither is any idea.  So, myself and Seth Valentine will be attempting to talk about music (and other things) right here.  We'll see.  Hi ho.