The Devil's Workshop: The Best of 2014

Well, it's that time of year again, folks -- the season of Black Fridays, Green Mondays, and Purple Thursdays that also happens to be the time your often absent narrator (as well as real-life husband and friend) finally steps away from the office to collect his thoughts on the year and its soundtrack in music. It was an eventful year.  For as many things stayed the same -- unending frustration and hours at work, no matter one's title, logic, or efforts; chronic lack of sleep and relief, no matter the hour of repose or amount of bourbon -- a lot of things changed for the better.  The lady and I joined the ranks of the land-owning gentry (next up country clubs and luxury sedans), there were trips to scenic environs like Portugal and Pittsburgh (sister settings, to be sure), and there were infrequent (but quality) outings with friends and family on both sides of the (common law) marital fence.  I also wrote more this year than in either of the last two years combined, which hopefully kept all three of my faithful readers busy sampling music as I found it.

For while there wasn't as much as last year -- that was a bumper crop that appears once every five to ten years -- there was plenty to keep me occupied (if not outright happy) over the year.  So what follows is the top 21 albums I stumbled upon over the year, including an Arby's five for five -- five bands who've previously made the year end list, and five that were discovered at the annual pilgrimage home to Lolla. It also includes two sophomore returns from two of my all-out favorites -- one ten years in the making -- which also happened to be the two albums I listened to more than every other album on this list combined. It's a typically expansive and diverse list -- albeit lighter on electro, rap, and Southern than in recent years, in lieu of brash, raucous punk in several cases -- but hopefully there's still enough for everyone to pick on. It's Bobby's annual musical tapas -- take a nibble of this and that and let me know what you think.  Until next year, my friends...

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1. Parquet Courts - Sunbathing Animal; Death From Above 1979 - The Physical World: Figuring out who would sit atop the list this year was easy -- both of these hit like lightning in a dry field and left embers that quickly built into an inferno; an uncontrollable, obliterating fire that raged for months.  And like the aforementioned, the impact of their arrival comes instantaneously.  Whether it's the slight feint of "Bodies Made Of," which sets the tone and intent for the Courts, momentarily brandishing the hammer before pummeling you to death with it three minutes later with "Black and White," or the immediate sledgehammer of "Cheap Talk" for DFA, the effect of these albums is immediate.  Powerful, visceral, and absolutely undeniable.

For the Courts, they come back a year after their sterling (and Sunshine chart topping) debut with an album that is quintessentially New York, the perfect distillation of some of that city's best (and my favorite) bands.  Tracks like "What Color is Blood" and the aforementioned opener are pure Television; "She's Rolling" and "Instant Disassembly" are vintage Velvet Underground; while "B and W" and the blistering title track are classic Ramones. (Their recently released EP Content Nausea continues the thread and channels the Velvets at their more excessive and aimless, at times.) It's an impressive array, both in terms of execution and how effortlessly they shift between the influences.  Lead singer Andrew Savage snaps from doing his most disaffected Lou Reed to his most agitated Joey Ramone without blinking, switching from matter of fact narration to frenzy the troops incitement, often in the same song. And it works perfectly -- the album guilelessly dances between the feels, taking you to the edge of control and back multiple times over its 45 minutes.

DFA, on the other hand, has one thing on its mind -- your total and complete annihilation.  Minus one song -- the slightly more subdued "White is Red" halfway through -- this album is pure, unadulterated destruction. And you fucking LOVE it, like a junkie loves a hit. It's primal, all-encompassing, and utterly overwhelming. And when it's done you can't WAIT to go back for more.   Despite last releasing music ten years ago -- the pitch-perfect (and all-time fave) You're a Woman, I'm a Machine -- lead singer/drummer Sebastian Grainger and guitarist Jesse Keeler have lost none of their fire.  The album's opening triple is devastating -- the buzzsaw riff and metal drums of "Cheap Talk;" the backbreaking climax of "Right On, Frankenstein!;" the mindfuck drum break at the end of "Virgins,"which is easily the album's best song. (Though that's akin to calling drafty gazebo the best position in bed -- they're all pretty fucking good...) Everything in the aftermath is equally on par -- fast, catchy, and so fucking heavy -- but this had earned its spot at the top by the close of that third song.

As noted above I listened to these two albums more than every other album on the list combined this year and haven't stopped doing so despite months of repetition.  Part of it might have been the relentless frustrations at work (and occasionally at home) that made these the perfect counterpoint for my reservoirs of rage.  Even without that incitement, though, I think I'd have done (and will continue to do) the same -- they're just that good.  Brash, punky, rough -- they're everything you want out of music.  It snaps something in your brain and demands you respond physically, whether it's drumming along on your desk, shouting along in your car, or thrashing around in a frenzy in the comforts of your room. This isn't passive, introspective headphone music or background music for while you iron, this is active, aggressive, punch you in the face type stuff that forces you to react and engage. And it's just as good live -- I saw both bands live again and they were two of my top three performances this year.  Hands down two of my absolute favorite bands, far and away. Bottom line -- download this music. Listen to these bands. Change your life forever.

2. The Black Keys - Turn Blue: The Keys tip the mood on this one with the title, but despite being recorded in the wake of what sounds like a pretty horrific divorce for front man Dan Auerbach, this isn't mopey, weepy stuff.  Rather it's a more concerted exploration of the band's bluesier side, stretching some of the songs to let things breathe a little more and forsaking some of the poppier, more radio-ready polish of recent albums. (Which is by no means a knock -- their last offering, El Camino, was near the top of my best of 2011 list and still plays great.)

Auerbach mines the rubble of his personal life and turns out some great songs/lyrics -- the heavy, expansive opener "Weight of Love," the soaring "In Time" and "Year in Review," the thudding jungle of "It's Up to You Now" and the resilient classic rock gem "Gotta Get Away."  There's no denying these are songs about love, loss, and a relationship gone through some seriously bad times.  But rather than sound sappy or maudlin, Auerbach and his ever-reliable can man Pat Carney do it the old fashioned way, with honest, unadulterated blues.  It's a testament to Auerbach's ear for a hook/melody and his strength as a songwriter (and Carney remains one of my favorite drummers).  These guys continue to turn out solid album after solid album without getting boring or repeating themselves.  This one's another winner for the boys from Akron.

3. Alt-J - This is All Yours: British darlings Alt-J return with the follow up to their Mercury Prize winning debut (and top five finisher here) and produce another batch of intricate, lush beauties for us to enjoy.  While perhaps a slightly less Awesome Wave than their debut -- if only because we expect the torrent of styles and influences that are held within this time around -- this is still an incredible album.  The band has smoothed some of the frenetic shifts and jumps of the first album and created a more cohesive, restrained affair here, one that almost induces a catatonic trance when played in its entirety. (Which is precisely how it should be played.)

The album opener reminds folks what the band is capable of (it's actually the perfect answer to the question "What does Alt-J sound like?"), with its haunting melodies and vocal harmonies, thudding hip hop/electro percussion, and random outbursts of militant chanting and shouts.  It then sets off on a blissful run of songs that deepen the hypnosis --the one-two setup of "Arrival in Nara" and "Nara," which complement each other perfectly before building to the magisterial gravity of "Every Other Freckle," a track that I listened to obsessively over the year.  It's among the best things the band has recorded -- there's SO much going on inside it borders on insanity: frantic cow bell, cover girl choruses, hand claps, gorilla grunts, manic repetition of the song's title -- and the result is absolutely mesmerizing. The only thing that comes close is the hypnotic lead single, "Hunger of the Pines," which manages to mix ethereal "oohs," brash horn blasts, monastic chants, and a Miley Cyrus hook into four minutes of magic.

It's an amazing display.  What sets this band apart, aside from the incredible range of sounds and influences they draw on and sew together in their songs, are the drums and the details.  Thom Green is the band's percussive genius -- he's not a sit at the kit legend like Bonham and Grohl, but rather a wizard of the modern era, layering in a range of percussion electronically, feathering in everything from hip hop boom-baps to electro break beats and congo flourishes.  It's understated, original, and intricate stuff, and as a result easy to overlook -- but once you start listening for it it's impossible to ignore. Listen to the frenzied cowbell in "Freckle" or the machine gun ride in "Hunger;" the bongo blast of "The Gospel of John Hurt" or the wild flurry of styles in "Bloodflood, Pt II."  It's subtle stuff -- lead singer Joe Newman and Gus Unger-Hamilton's harmonies still captivate the ear -- but once heard you can't imagine the songs without it.

It hearkens to the band's other aforementioned strong suit, their ability to place these little details in that take songs to the next level and complete the transportive effect -- listen to the fly buzzing at the end of "Arrival in Nara;" the muted church bell gonging in "Nara;" the bird chirps and breeze blowing in "Choice Kingdom;" the hissing steam and intercom squawks of "Leaving Nara."  They're tiny things that add to the overall richness and give the ear something new to latch onto with each listen.  A really impressive follow-on to their equally stellar debut -- beautiful, beautiful stuff.

4. Run the Jewels - Run the Jewels 2: This one wasn't a guarantee -- when New York rapper/producer El-P teamed up with Atlanta rapper Killer Mike last year for their debut, it was an experimental side project borne out of the rapport built during El's production of Mike's last album.  Ten songs -- a mere trial balloon more likely to serve as a memento of their time together in the studio. Only the songs were really good -- easily among the best rap put out last year (it landed on my year end review) -- and the album took off.  Largely on the back of the pair's live shows, which were sweaty, heavy affairs that disproved the adage that ALL live hip-hop/rap has to suck.  All of which led to this follow-up, turning an intended one-off into a hopefully repeat affair.

And if the quality remains this high, let's hope it's an annual affair. The only hiccup here comes at the start-- after a clip of Mike frothing at the mouth, getting amped up before recording, they segue into the lethargic "Jeopardy," which jarringly lets the steam out as if Rage Against the Machine followed "Killing in the Name of" with some Spandau Ballet.  Thankfully it's a momentary blip, as everything that follows is 40 minutes of blistering rap.  Tracks such as "Oh My Darling Don't Cry," which is an absolute headbomb with a beat that is hypnotically heavy and the true follow-on to Mike's introduction. Or its successor, "Blockbuster Night, Pt. 1," which not only reaffirms what transpired on their debut ("Last album, voodoo -- proved that we were fucking brutal. I'm talking crazy, half past the clock is cuckoo"), but also the way I'm tempted to start every day ("Top of the morning, my fist to your face is fucking Folgers.")

Each stand up to relentless repeat, along with other gems "All My Life" and "Early," the fast and furious drive-by "All Due Respect," and the back from the dead appearance of Rage frontman Zach de la Rocha on "Close your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)," which finds this phantom of the past still rapping about the factories (sigh) on top of an insanely hypnotic loop of him shouting the name of the band. Nothing tops the aforementioned "Don't Cry" and "Love Again (Akinyele Back)," the latter of which is an absolute spot-on homage to the titular 'yele's grime.  The two serve as pillars for the album and perfect distillations of what this pair is about -- sharp lyrics, wrecking ball beats, and a grittiness that edges on filthiness at times, but is nearly impossible to turn away from.

5. Papa - Tender Madness; Vance Joy - Dream Your Life Away:  This slot's for the bleeding hearts, with two swing for the fences, sing for the heavens winners for two first-time artists. (Who also happen to have equally stellar preceding EPs released earlier in the year.)  First up is the debut from LA twosome Papa, whose album (as I wrote last month) is chock full of earnest little gems, with lead singer Darren Weiss seductively crooning tunes that dance between lovesick tenderness and unbridled passion. High points remain runaway train anthems "Put Me To Work" and "If You're My Girl, Then I'm Your Man," in addition to the buoyant "I am the Lion King" and the flat out pretty "If the Moon Rises." The duo roll out a load of blissful melodies across the album's 45 minute duration, and frontman Weiss' golden baritone melds nicely with bandmate Daniel Present's harmonies.  Both this and their EP A Good Woman is Hard to Find helped provided some reliable sunshine to cut through some of the year's storm clouds.

As did the back half to this twinning of  EP-LP offering ingenues, Australia's Vance Joy. As I wrote about a few months ago, Joy's name is indicative of what his music evokes, as each track builds upon the warmth and exuberance of the last, which leads to more than a few sing like no one's listening gems. From opening tracks "Winds of Change" and "Mess is Mine" to later offerings "Who Am I," "First Time," and the gutshot beauties "Georgia" and "Red Eye," Joy turns out one great song after another. (Songs like "Emmylou," "Playing With Fire," and "Snaggletooth" shine off the EP as well.) His warm voice, heartfelt lyrics, and lovely ukelele create an irresistible mix, none moreso than on the once in a lifetime "Riptide," which will likely remain the best thing he ever records, even if he sticks around for another 20 years -- it's that good.  Let's hope he and his fellow slotmates keep trying to top themselves, though, as we'll be the ultimate beneficiaries.

6. Royal Blood - Royal Blood; Bass Drum of Death - Rip This: This slot goes to the unabashed; the simple, unadulterated garage rock of two relatively unheralded twosomes-- one new, one four years old but virtually unknown -- that deliver payoffs far greater than their name recognition and far louder than the proverbial 11. First up are the newcomers, a British twin pack I got to catch at Lolla that built on their appetite-whetting EP (Out of the Black) and offered a devastating preview of what turned into this, their full-length debut. (Three of Black's four tracks make the cut and appear again here.) Chock full of scuzzy, sludgy bass and bludgeoning drums that hearken back to inspirations like the Keys and White Stripes, lead singer Mike Kerr and drummer Ben Thatcher throw down ten songs that hit your chest as hard as Thatcher hits his kit.  (Which is obviously not lightly -- during their set at Lolla he actually stood up several times to better punish the cans.)

On tracks like "You Can Be So Cruel" and "Ten Tonne Skeleton" (as well as each of the EP tracks showing up here) Thatcher sounds like me at the end of most days, beating the living piss out of the heavy bag (or drums) as if his life and sanity depended on it. (Which it probably does, at least in my case -- here's to percussive therapy, keeping me from frenzying on people for five years and counting now.) The pair do a nice job changing tone and pace every now and again, and Kerr throws out some nimble solos on the tracks to further lighten the bludgeoning.  His runs at the end of "Figure it Out" and "Loose Change" spice up the pause before the sprint to the songs' finishes, while songs like "Blood Hands" and "Better Strangers" are bluesy, smoldering affairs.  The latter being one of the standouts on the album and a good representation of the band's strengths -- scuzzy riffs, thudding drums, and an aura of slinky danger throughout.

If Royal Blood's signature is its heaviness, then BDOD's is speed -- the former the gorilla that grabs you and pummels you to death, the latter the tiger that sprints after its prey and mauls it in a frantic, frenzied flash. As mentioned above, BDOD's been around for four years and released nearly an album a year in that span, each gloriously loud, gritty batches of visceral, primal rock.  Which is not what you'd expect for a duo from Oxford, Mississippi, a town better known for....desegregated universities during the flashpoint of civil rights? Southern literary god William Faulkner? Archie Manning?  Regardless, these guys bring it like it's the town's stock in trade and decimate any possible resistance.  Between frontman/lead guitarist John Barrett's scorching runs and reverb-laden yowls, guitarist Len Clark's howling power chords, and drummer Colin Sneed's sledgehammer percussion, these guys serve up Borg-level imperatives -- resistance is futile.  You WILL submit. You WILL start riling.

And you'll love every second of it -- I caught these guys playing in the back of a ping-pong pizza parlor this year and had an absolute blast.  (The third entry to my aforementioned three best shows of the year.) From sizzlers like the opening "Electric" and "For Blood," to Ramones-style anthems like "Left for Dead" and "Burn's my Eye," these guys are cooking with gas for the entirety of the album's brisk 30 minutes.  Even the molten burn of "Sin is in 10" and protest song "Better Days" work well, giving a slight ease to the throttle on what is otherwise an all out sprint for the gazelle. "Black Don't Glow" is the perfect taste test for those looking to see what the fuss is about -- spunky, melodic, and plain fucking cool, this should more than allay any fears about these ominously named boys from the 'Sip.


7. White Denim - Corsicana Lemonade; Woods - With Light and Love; Sacco - Sacco; While last year's list was laden with throwback bands that pulled you into a time warp, this year's offerings were much more limited.  So this slot's for the few I found, the Sunday morning specials that would have been right at home at those Sundays of my childhood where Mom's cooking in the kitchen and Pops is shuffling between soul, the Beatles, and his classic rockers on the stereo. Like those memories, each of these albums are bathed in warmth and sunshine and they invite you right in.

Austin-based Denim is up first with their fifth studio album, Lemonade, and it's a wonderful mix of throwback tunes that at times call to mind Winwood-era Traffic jams and others funky, soulful Stevie songs as the Mellotron- and organ-infused guitar rage. Lead singer/guitarist James Petralli is a chameleon on the mike who bridges those two influences well, effortlessly switching from bluesy yowl to subdued croon as the album progresses.  It starts out with a bang and the irresistible "At Night in Dreams," which could have been a hit in the early 70s (and should have done much better now). Petralli's and Austin Jackson's guitars fly around the room while drummer Josh Block (the unheralded star of the album) unleashes a slew of syncopated rhythms until everything catches fire at the end. A great tune that sets the tone for everything that follows -- the funky shamble of the title track and "Cheer Up / Blues Ending;" the honey-tinged "New Blue Feeling," "Distant Relative Salute," and "A Place to Start;" the bluesy romp of "Come Back" and "Pretty Green." This album screams 70s AM radio -- and there ain't nothin' wrong with that.

Brooklyn boys Woods evoke similar images and moods on their sixth album, WLAL. As I wrote about earlier this year, this one hearkens back to early Americana with 60s era Brit rock like The Byrds and a little 70s era The Band or Neil Young cut in for good measure. Lead singer Jeremy Earl's high-pitched falsetto holds everything together, wrapping each song in a golden glow only augmented by the nostalgia evoked by the album's influences.  Highlights remain the blissful honkytonk of album opener "Shepherd," the elegant and stately "Leaves Like Glass," and the overall standout "Moving to the Left," which could calm an agitated badger. Warm, bright, and instantly familiar, this one's as inviting as Sunday sweatpants on a cold winter day.

Last up is the self-titled debut from Gotham duo Sacco, who I caught opening for Band of Skulls earlier this year and was impressed enough to check out their album.  Despite the grit and frenzy of their current base of operations, this album exudes open ocean tranquility, all warm sunshine and slowly rolling waves as you laze on the deck.  From album opener "Carnival Ghost" and "Kerosene," to "Driving" and the aptly named "Sunny Afternoon," bandmates John Fredericks and Andy Breihan capture everything but the breeze actually blowing in your hair here.  It's a great debut -- one that reminds me a bit of  Minneapolis trio Night Moves -- and one that will definitely keep me interested in what they deliver next.

8. Manchester Orchestra - Cope; The Orwells - Disgraceland: This slot's home to a couple of albums that could easily have fit into my high school rotation and immediately take me back to my pimple-bedazzled formative years.  Balancing a boatload of angsty lyrics and sludgy guitar (Manchester), with a flippant "GOFY!" rebelliousness and raw garage feel (Orwells), these two represent the soundtrack to roughly ten years of my life.  I can almost see myself sitting at my desk drawing comics or moodily slouching in my pappasan with the speakers cranked.  Thankfully these two bands handle the pains of adolescence far better (and cooler) than I did. 

Manchester drops in on their fourth album with a host of ultra-catchy songs that counterbalance frontman Andy Hull's nasally vocals with some sledghammer heavy riffs.  The band evokes Jimmy Eats World and Silversun Pickups at their best -- big heart and big hooks delivered with soaring vocals and punishing guitar and drums.  It works nicely -- what could have wound up sounding like a sludgy, monotonous mess is instead brightened with Hull's voice, his sharp lyrics, and some truly top shelf melodies. Tracks like the aptly named opener "Top Notch," "Girl Harbor," "The Ocean," "Every Stone," "All I Ever Wanted" -- hell, virtually the entire damned album -- will have you belting out the choruses in unison with Hull. The sole outlier is the album closer, "After the Scripture," which brings things to a smoldering, beautiful close.  The Georgia boys continue to impress here.

While Manchester's hook is its heart, the key to the Orwells' charm is their oversize attitude, their rough (sometimes gloriously sloppy) performances, and some killer snotty lyrics that front man Mario Cuomo spits into the mike. All of that would be useless without some solid songs to bring you back, though, and the band thankfully continues to deliver them in spades.  Which is no small feat for a band only a year out of high school, already on their second album.

Despite their young age, these boys from my beloved city by the lake seem like they've been doing this for years.  As Cuomo shouts on the album opener -- and probably my favorite track of the year -- "Southern Comfort," "Eyes on the prize, eyes on her thighs, I'm not that old but I'm getting pretty wise."  That insouciant attitude is everywhere on the album -- from the horndog grime of "Dirty Sheets" to the stop-start buzz of "Blood Bubbles," and the tremendous triple from the album's middle of "Gotta Get Down," "Let it Burn," and "Who Needs You."  You hear the sneer in Cuomo's voice and practically picture the middle finger that comes with it -- and will find yourself shouting his directives along with him. ("I can't walk, and I can't dance, gimme a smile and then TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!"/ "You wanna save the country, you better pass the flask; you better join the army, I say NO THANK YOU, dear old Uncle Saaaaaam!")  Great stuff from a band that continues its precipitous rise. They're making our hometown proud.

9. Rural Alberta Advantage - Mended with Gold; Roadkill Ghost Choir - In Tongues: This slot's for the holy rollers, a pair of bands who build their sound to gospel heights and get the entire congregation to bask in their glorious glow.  First up is the unjustly obscure Canadian trio RAA, back for the first time in three years with their third studio album, who show that the time away hasn't tarnished their skills in the slightest.  Appropriately enough, I discovered RAA a few years ago when I was in Canada  -- Ottawa, not Alberta -- when I heard them on the stereo of this tiny shop in the main market downtown.  They sounded then (and still do) like a north of the border twin to Neutral Milk Hotel, with frontman Nils Edenloff's reedy voice at times being indistinguishable from Neutral's mastermind Jeff Mangum. And similar to that latter doppelganger, RAA is known for its unabashed earnestness, playing and singing each song as if their lives (and your future) depended on it.  It makes for a thrilling listen (particularly live), but what keeps you coming back is the heart and melody that beat underneath.

I've always thought of RAA as quintessential cabin music -- in part because, in my head, Canada is a vast landscape of cabins and lodges full of high-necked sweaters and hearty mugs of piping hot cocoa, but also because RAA sounds like something you'd sing in one of those aforementioned locations, huddled around the fire with your closest friends and family, belting out these songs with your heads tilted towards the rafters.  It's protection from the cold, as well as pessimism and despair.  Their songs are invigorating, lovely affirmations (though with a touch of melancholy and trepidation laced through the lyrics this time) -- there's the wild opener "Our Love...," the cloud over the sun winner "On the Rocks," the see-sawing exuberance of "Terrified," and the flat out lovely "To Be Scared" and "The Build."

They highlight two of RAA's biggest weapons, outside of its energetic earnestness -- how perfectly Edenloff's voice pairs with bandmate Amy Cole's (similar to Andrew Bird's and Nora O'Connor's, or Mates of State's heavenly husband-wife vocal marriage), and how great drummer Paul Banwatt is. (He calls to mind Dodos drummer Logan Kroeber, both for his encyclopedic inspirations and his Animal-like enthusiasm in executing them.) You'll find yourself humming this one long after you've left it -- another solid outing from an underappreciated gem.

The back half of this slot is the debut from this Florida quintet, yet another Lolla discovery (the fifth on this year's list) and the sole album that came out this year that spoke to my country-fried sensibilities.  Coming across a bit like early Band of Horses with a touch of Dylan sprinkled in for good measure (lead singer Andrew Shepherd sounds like BOH's Ben Bridwell and a less twangy (and inscrutable) Dylan), Roadkill offers up ten smooth Southern gems on their first full-length. (As well as six more on their late 2013 EP, Quiet Light.) There's rollicking jams like album opener "Slow Knife," "Down & Out," and "No Enemy," and closer to the vest numbers like "Womb" and "See You Soon" over the album's roughly 45 minutes. Songs like "Hwy" show the band at their best, though, as they bridge the two styles in the same song, starting slow and building to a raging fire four minutes later.  ("Beggars' Guild" does the same as the opener to the EP.) They sound great live, too, turning the dingy club (or open park, as it was for us) into an almost sanctified space.  Impressive stuff from this gang of panhandlers -- worth keeping an eye on.

10. Kevin Morby - Still Life; Nick Mulvey - First Mind: This slot's for the soloists, one a Yankee and one a Brit, one a sophomore, the other a freshman.  We'll start with the soph, the second album from New Yorker come Californian Morby, who got his start working with fellow listmates Woods a few years back. Similar to that band's entry on the list this year, this album captures a bit of the throwback Laurel Canyon beauty with 10 songs that glimmer and shine like sun-soaked stones in a cool canyon creek. Morby channels his inner Dylan and spins out some beautiful tunes here, including classic folk narratives "The Jester, The Tramp, & The Acrobat" and "The Ballad of Arlo Jones," the somber ballads "All My Life" and "Bloodsucker," and the sprawling epic of "Amen." Each highlight Morby's skill as a songwriter and exude the warmth of his recent relocation.  A promising sign of things hopefully to come.

As for the debut from newcomer Mulvey, it's an equally lovely affair that's a perfect companion to the former on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Mulvey learned how to play guitar in Havana and you can immediately detect the Latin, at times Flamenco, influences in his songs, which lends the album a lush and bright feel.  Coupled with Mulvey's warm voice it calls to mind Jose Gonzalez's solo efforts, all finger-picked classical guitar and heart-tugging melodies. Standouts include the Junip-y "Juramidam," the lullaby "Cucurucu," the urgent "Meet me There," and the gutshot ache of "I Don't Want to go Home." Best in class goes to "Fever to the Form," though, which puts all Mulvey's strengths on vivid display -- beautiful melody, great vocals and guitar, and a languid, stately intro that builds to a fevered climax like those classic Flamenco ballads of his classroom. Great stuff that will definitely warrant monitoring for a follow-on.

11. Spoon - They Want My Soul: Poor Spoon. I'm not quite sure what it is about this band, but for whatever reason no matter what they do, I remain immune to their undeniable talents and refuse to fully succumb to their charms.  They're like the perfectly lovely girl you've known for years that your Mom secretly wishes you'd buck up and marry, but instead remains squarely in the fabled friend zone for you.  It's nothing against her -- she's smart, funny, attractive, you enjoy her company when she's around and don't need to fuss about putting on airs or entertaining her when she is.  She's just not what you go to bed dreaming about.

Same goes with these guys -- you can't ask anything more from them.  They're the definition of consistency. They've released nine studio albums over the past 18 years, including this one, each better than the last.  Front man Britt Daniels has a killer voice, all gravel and GOFY attitude, and writes sharp, solid lyrics.  He's also got an ear for hooks and melodies, and the songs are often catchier than you'd expect, riding along on solid riffs from Daniels and backing guitarists Eric Harvey and Rob Pope. Add to that Jim Eno's flawless drums and you've got what seems to be a flawless recipe.  For whatever reason, though, as I wrote this summer these guys remain the sonic equivalent of apple pie, for me -- a beloved favorite of millions, and something I'll probably never turn away if offered, but not something I'm going to think to hunt down.

Which is by no means a critique of this album.  True to the previous metaphor, every time a song from this album came on, I turned the volume up and enjoyed myself.  Lead single "Rent I Pay" and later tracks "Rainy Taxi," "Knock Knock Knock," and the title track all sizzle (honestly Daniels' voice has never sounded better -- more urgent, insistent, and utterly pissed off than ever, it's a thing to behold on these tracks), while songs like "Inside Out" and "Outlier" are dreamy breezes.  "I Just Don't Understand" is a threadbare, bluesy favorite, too -- you can picture Daniels playing this after closing time at some dive bar in their native Austin, all raw emotion and knee-buckle fatigue. You can practically smell the bourbon in the air.  Another solid offering from this relentless band of Texans -- maybe Mom's on to something...


12. The Allah-Las - Worship the Sun; Jungle - Jungle: This slot's for the way back machine and two more albums that will get you out of the present quick.  First up, the second album from the LA four pack Allah-las that's a surefire time warp set to blast you to the late 60s from the opening note.  Similar to their 2012 debut, this one's a flawless mix of British psychedelia and vintage American garage akin to early Animals or countless bands on the Pebbles collections. It's uncanny how out of time the band sounds -- lead singer/guitarist Miles Michaud's nasally reverb-laden voice is the perfect balance of snide attitude and soft-spoken sincerity, while his and lead guitarist Pedrum Siadatian's surf-tinged guitar riffs run rampant over the album's spartan 35 minutes. It's an intoxicating mix, one sure to spark nostalgia like a hearty bowl of holiday punch. Tracks like the opening "De Vida Voz" and "Artifact" shimmer like the air above hot sand, while "Had it All" and "Buffalo Nickel" are lost hits from 1967. Even instrumental tracks like "Ferus Gallery" work, gliding along like a summer breeze.  They sound great live, too, and if you close your eyes you feel like Johnson has to be in the Oval Office and Vietnam raging overseas. They may not break much new ground, but they sure honor and preserve the terrain they're retreading.

Last up is the disco debut I wrote about last month, another blessed discovery from the annual pilgrimage home. In a year where I barely had time to recover from the day before heading back to work for more frustration and abuse, the opportunities to relax and have fun like before -- late nights at the Cat or dancing in the basement of the Hall -- were virtually non-existent.  Thankfully albums such as this had the ability to transport to simpler times, if not spark up a good old fashioned dance party of the era, all polyester, gold chains, and cocaine (minus the cocaine, of course). This one's chock full of smooth, soulful disco that whips you into motion for the album's 40 minute duration. The vocals set the tone, shifting from a Justin Vernon/Marvin Gaye croon ("Lemonade Lake," "Accelerate") to an exuberant Bee Gees style falsetto ("Julia," "Crumbler"), sometimes in the same song.  It's a rich, luscious affair, and there's still nothing better than lead single "Busy Earnin'," which has a grandiosity to its groove that belies its scant three minute timespan. Another one to keep an eye on going forward...

Big Hearts, Bigger Grooves: Lolla Part II

Now that I've had a couple months to scurry around like a nut-hungry squirrel, buying property and touring foreign nations, it's time to catch my breath and check in again with a couple more bands discovered during the annual Lolla pilgrimage.  We didn't get to catch either band full on, but snapped up the tail end of their sets coming to or from other stages. What we caught was enough to warrant further inspection, though, and after spending more time with them the last few months I'm glad I did.

First up's the twosome from LA, Papa, whose late-year debut Tender Madness is a swing for the fences affair that connects almost without fail.  Chock full of earnest little gems, lead singer Darren Weiss croons tunes that dance between lovesick tenderness and belt it to the rafters passion.  It's a tightly assembled effort -- there are loads of blissful melodies to lose yourself in, and Weiss' honey-laden voice matches nicely with fellow bandmate Daniel Presant as they harmonize on a handful of tracks. "Put Me To Work,"  "Young Rut," and "If You're My Girl, Then I'm Your Man" are runaway train anthems, while "Got To Move," "Forgotten Days," and "I Am The Lion King" -- the only carryover from their debut EP, A Good Woman is Hard to Find -- capture a languid, confident groove, surfing atop sumptuous bass lines and sparkling, bright guitar parts.  The rest is just flat out prettiness -- "If The Moon Rises" and the title track chief among them -- but nothing encapsulates things better than the closing track from the aforementioned EP, "A Song for Mike Gigliotti."  This mini-epic ebbs and flows from hushed ballad to frothy, frantic embrace over its brilliant six minutes.  It, like the remainder of the band's efforts to date, shimmers with inviting warmth.


Next is Jungle, a somewhat mysterious collective of lads and lasses from London, who roll in with a breezy self-titled debut that smacks of all the glitz and glamor of a 70s coke party.  Similar to last year's offering from Daft Punk, this one conjures up the bygone era of polyester pants and butterfly collars, but without the arch or weird flourishes that stymied that album.  There's no documentary style Moroder narration, no Broadway style numbers here -- just smooth, soulful disco that whips you into motion for the album's forty minute duration.  It's not a simple dance party, though, but an album that rewards repeat listening to unearth its hidden layers.  There's the police sirens and talking voices backing the opening "The Heat," which brings to mind a street scene in 1970s New York with the steam coming out of the sewers and the breeze ruffling your fur collared coat under the subway tracks. There's the wind chimes chirping in the back of "Platoon" and the creaking door and floorboards of "Drops;" the finger snaps, record pops, and rolling waves of "Lucky I Got What I Want."  The vocals set the tone, shifting from a Justin Vernon/Marvin Gaye croon ("Lemonade Lake," "Accelerate") to an exuberant Bee Gees style falsetto ("Julia," "Crumbler"), sometimes in the same song.  It's a rich, luscious affair, and none better than lead single "Busy Earnin'," which packs a lot of magic into its scant three minutes. Check it out here:

Old Faithful: The Annual Lolla Roundup

As I digest the bounty of riches obtained during my annual pilgrimage home to the Temple of Lolla, wanted to offer up some initial observations for folks to try out and (hopefully) enjoy.  Here's the quick and dirty on some of the instant winners:

Best in Show (Newcomers Division): The Districts and Vance Joy -- Multiple power outages during their set couldn't stop this quartet from Lancaster County, PA who left absolutely everything they had out on the stage on Day II, closing their high noon set by smashing their guitars and toppling their drum kit and leaving a bowled over crowd of new fans in their wake.  Lead singer Rob Grote howled and flailed around stage, with power and without, taking the crowd through a batch of alt-folk songs that rise and fall like a country breeze before exploding into full-fledged storms.  There's a ton of great tunes for such a new band -- the soulful "Lyla" and "Funeral Beds," the combustible "Call Box" and "Long Distance" (both of which screamed live), but for me nothing's better than "4&4," which is a perfect mix of their jangly country vibe and their raucous howl. Keep your eyes out for these guys if they're coming to town, and take a taste of what they have to offer here:



Australian folky Vance wasn't a discovery like the Districts -- I've been in love with his debut EP God Loves You When You're Dancing since I picked it up a few months ago -- but his performance was a confirmation that love was well-deserved.  Joy's name is indicative of what his music evokes, as each track builds upon the warmth and exuberance of the last, leading to group-wide singalongs in the park.  Songs like "Emmylou," "Playing With Fire," and "Snaggletooth" shine off the EP, as do songs like "Mess is Mine" from the upcoming full-length.  At times, sitting in the sun in the park with Joy on stage felt like sitting around a campfire, all warmth and golden glow. With Joy's warm voice, heartfelt lyrics, and lovely ukelele, it's hard to find much to dislike, let alone not sing along with at the top of your lungs.  None moreso than on lead single "Riptide," a little over three short minutes of pure, unadulterated Joy:

 

Best in Show (Recent Favorites Division): Parquet Courts and Run the Jewels -- For the five of you that read my annual lists, you already know the Courts and RTJ are two of my recent faves (the Courts being one of the best in many, many years -- a sentiment not dissuaded by their new album, which will undoubtedly be making its way onto this year's list.  See me in January for precisely where...) RTJ was more of the unknown heading into the weekend -- only one album behind them, and the fact that virtually all rap performances I've seen are utter shit was making me a little nervous. Thankfully, though, these guys were anomalies and absolutely crushed their set in the rain.  El-P and Killer Mike sounded fantastic, had tons of energy and were bounding around stage riling the crowd (which is impressive as Mike is no tiny ballerina), and the beats were absolute sledgehammers.

Same goes for the Courts, who erupted on stage with a blistering string of tracks from their new album and their flawless debut before going on (for me) a too-long meander into their slower stuff, which killed the momentum.  I understand balancing your sets and wanting to give folks a breather, but they'd done such a great job working everyone into a lather this was a bit like stuffing a toddler full of cupcakes and sugar and then telling him to sit still in the corner for 30 minutes. Thankfully they ended on a high note, ripping off a string of high-octane jams that culminated in the moment I'd been most looking forward to for the festival, and a batshit crazy rendition of "Sunbathing Animal" off their new album.  Two huge sets from two of my recent faves.

Best in Show (Old-timers Division): Interpol and Spoon -- These two were surprises, one because I wasn't expecting that much from them, the other because they exceeded what I was.  For the former, Interpol is a band I've cooled on over the years.  I saw them years ago for a birthday show in Chicago in support of their debut album, which remains one of my all-time faves, and that remains one of my favorite concert experiences. (Partly because they were playing along with my favorite band no one has ever heard of -- buy me a drink sometime and maybe I'll clue you in to who they are...) Their follow-on album Antics was pretty solid, but Our Love to Admire was a little bloated and I didn't even buy their fourth album, so I was pretty floored when they gave one of the best top to bottom performances of the weekend.  There was a sense of urgency from them that I hadn't seen in years -- maybe it was partly because they were playing a greatest hits set that leaned heavily on their first two albums (I only recall one or two tracks off their forthcoming album), but they played with fire and sounded fantastic.  Absolute home run.

Spoon, on the other hand, is the definition of consistency.  They're one of those bands that I've always really liked, but for whatever reason never gone CRAAAAZY over, the way I have for Parquet Courts or J Roddy, say, to pick two recent headbombers. They're the sonic equivalent of apple pie, for me -- tons of people love it, and I'm probably not going to shove it away if I find it in front of me, but I'm not going to go hunt it down because IGOTTAHAVESOMERIGHTNOW!  So I was surprised at how good these guys were live.  They balanced their set a bit more, sampling from almost all of their eight albums while being sure to give equal footing to their most recently released material.  And it all sounded great -- lead singer Britt Daniel was diffident and cool as always, but retains his killer gravelly voice, and the rest of the band played with a ton of energy, too.  Maybe I will have a slice of pie, Margaret...

Best Time: Joywave and Gemini Club -- These two gave great performances on the side stages, starting dance parties in the rain, and sparked the biggest sense of deja vu from the previous year.  Both gave buoyant, upbeat performances, showcasing their 80s style brand of synth pop nicely to get people moving, and because of their stages and sound called to mind two discoveries who did the same last year, Wild Cub and Atlas Genius, respectively.  It's a complimentary comparison -- like those bands, these guys keep it simple, but execute it well.  The NY-based Joywave offer bouncy tracks like "Golden State," "True Grit," and "In Clover," which all ride along on frontman Daniel Armbruster's high-pitched falsetto. (Who looks uncannily like a mustachioed Noonan, making it even more difficult not to love them.)  "Tongues" is the standout track, both for its quirkiness and catchiness.  You'll find yourself humming the melody hours after, and not hating that you are.



Hometown boys Gemini Club offer similar batches of joy and gave one of the more memorable sets of the weekend, keeping people dancing and happy in the midst of an utter deluge. Lead singer Tom Gavin belted out winners like "Sparklers," "Nothing but History," and "By Surprise," jumping out into the crowd to dance with folks in the middle of the rain.  Having listened to their albums, I think they actually sound better live, as the synths were more in balance than on the recorded offerings, but still a good time however you hear em.  Check out "Show my Hands" (a winner in both arenas) here:

 

Best Discoveries: Fly Golden Eagle and Royal Blood -- These two are slightly different, sonically, but both gave killer performances that left the tree-covered BMI stage (perennially the best at the show) a singed, smoking heap.  First up are Eagle, a four-pack from Nashville that hearken back to 70s AM radio with a great classic rock vibe.  Wild maned lead singer Ben Trimble's nasally falsetto flies high over the proceedings, which is an amalgam of gritty blues and redolent soul.  Tracks like "Far Out," "Devil's Eye (Basilisk)," and "Bed of Roses" smolder live, while "Psyche's Dagger," and "Need Some Money" bathe you in warmth. "Violet Crown" shows them at their overall best, mixing the two to potent effect -- see for yourself here:



On the other hand, the only thing British duo Royal Blood bathe you in is a wall of scuzzy, sludgy bass and bludgeoning drums.  Coming from a long line of bluesy twosomes of late (White Stripes, Black Keys, etc) what these guys do isn't complicated, but it also isn't easy to ignore.  Lead singer Mike Kerr and drummer Ben Thatcher offer up a range of heavy riffs and melodies that were absolutely irresistible live. (Thatcher came off his stool several times throughout the set to more effectively annihilate his kit -- fuck. yes.) They've only released a four-track EP so far, but the rest of the material they played was equally excellent, so will definitely keep my eyes peeled for their formal debut. Tracks like "Hole" and "Out of the Black" ebb and flow nicely, while "Come on Over" is a freight train rolling downhill.  Lead single "Little Monster" shows their potency well, though, building to a thunderous climax that's sure to have you thrashing.  Check it out here:

A Quick One, Before He's Away

Wanted to take a moment to scribble one more entry before my annual pilgrimage home for a glorious weekend of musical tapas in my beloved city by the lake.  I'll check in afterwards with my usual Lolla roundup, but for now wanted to offer a bit about the great new album by Brooklyn quartet Woods, With Light and Love.  The album's touchstones span genres and eras -- early Americana with some country-fried crumbles sprinkled in, 60s era Brit rock like The Byrds with a little 70s era Band or Neil Young there as well -- which lends the affair an immediately recognizable vibe.  Across the album's ten songs and 40 short minutes, you'll find yourself slipping into riffs and progressions as easily and invitingly as a well-worn shoe.

Much of that has to do with lead singer Jeremy Earl's high-pitched falsetto, which wraps each song in a golden glow only augmented by the nostalgia evoked by the album's influences.  The band effortlessly shifts between the latter, running through all three of them in order on the album's opening trio -- from the blissful honkytonk of "Shepherd" to the taut psychedelia of "Shining" and the smoldering jam of the title track, the band showcases an impressive range on this, their sixth album.

They continue the shifts across the remaining tracks, with high points being the radiant "New Light," whose harmonies kick in halfway through and elevate things to the atmosphere; the languid and lovely "Full Moon," which glides along on a shimmering slide guitar riff; and the elegant and stately "Leaves Like Glass," which sounds like a long lost outtake from The Last Waltz, one every bit as worthy of that legendary band's performance.  Nothing tops the below track, "Moving to the Left" for me, though -- beautiful harmony and melody, simple, solid lyrics, and an overall feel that is warm, bright, and instantly familiar, much like the album that contains it.   A great track on an equally great album -- check it out here:

Nothing Ordinary: Lucius

Wanted to take a minute in between Cup games to throw a new log on the fire, the debut from Brooklyn quintet Lucius, Wildewoman. I've been listening to this one for months now and haven't been able to fully shake it; woke up humming a couple tracks from it again this morning, in fact. It's a beguiling mix -- at turns 60s-era girl group pop (the title track and "Hey, Doreen"), at others quiet folk spirituals ("Go Home" and "Two of Us on the Run"). Still others find you falling victim to some strange Santigold-style drive-by (the propulsive "Nothing Ordinary," for example).

What makes them all hang together -- and what makes the album so eminently memorable writ large -- are the impeccable vocal harmonies of lead singers Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig. No matter the style, the pair's voices wind together so beautifully it's impossible not to enjoy. Guitarists Andrew Burri, Peter Lalish, and drummer Danny Molad lend to the polish and the evocative 60s atmosphere, crafting some likeable hooks and rhythms, but the ultimate draw are Wolfe's and Laessig's voices. It's a thing to behold, and an exciting sign of things to come, hopefully.

The band shows a facility moving between the disparate styles, equally at home with the more stripped down numbers as the quickfire pop blasts, and I'm looking forward to checking them out next month live at Lolla. For me, the band is at its best when it's sampling across the influences, with tracks like "Until we Get There" and "Turn it Around," which shine as amalgamations as varied as the patrons of a DC barroom. My favorite is the album's midpoint, the excellent "Tempest," which dances along on 80s synth, a simple strummed guitar, and the resonant vocals of Wolfe and Laessig. Simple, yet effective. Check it out here:

Time Capsule: Everything Remains the Same

It being Memorial Day I figured I'd honor the spirit of the weekend and highlight a couple bands whose music will get you reflecting upon earlier times and the people who've come and gone with them, courtesy of the throwback debuts from Temples and Foxygen. There's a lot of similarities between the two, hence my pairing them together here -- both are backward-looking time capsules that wouldn't sound out of place on AM radio in the late sixties, full of shimmering guitars, lush pop flourishes (harps, Mellotrons, etc), and catchy, lovely melodies that paint the room with sunshine.

Both albums are best consumed in their entirety, as the song cycles and tonal shifts flow into each other nicely, leaving the listener with a more satisfying meal at the end than is possible snacking on the songs one at a time. Which is not to say the songs can't stand on their own -- between the two albums there really isn't a weak song in the bunch -- it's just that the experience is all the more transportive if digested as a whole. And both albums are also immediately evocative of bands that came before -- for Temples the itch is primarily of fellow Britons The Byrds (along with more modern purveyors/replicators Kula Shaker), while Foxygen's parallel is undeniably The London Years-era Rolling Stones.  In fact, for the latter, lead singer Sam France's voice at times sounds so similar to early-era Jagger that it's uncanny -- you think you've landed in some treasure trove of lost Stones classics rather than new songs from a completely different (modern) band.

Which is all to say, somewhat unsurprisingly considering those parallels, these are both really great little albums.  Temples' debut (Sun Structures) tips more towards the psychedelic pop side of the spectrum, with its reverb-laden guitars and vocals, tripped-out lyrics, and Indian influences characteristic of the era. From the shimmery lead single (and album opener) "Shelter Song" to similar gems "The Golden Throne," "Keep in the Dark," and "The Guesser," there's a warmth and sheen that permeates proceedings and casts a metaphorical glow. (The lyrics and song titles lend to the effect too, with their repeated references to gold, light, sun, and color.)

Foxygen tips more towards the bluesy end of the spectrum with their stellar debut, We are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace and Magic, mixing in healthy doses of pop for good measure. (Don't let the clunky title throw you -- I promise the album's worth it.) They waste no time showing off those capabilities, with the album's first two songs album showing both sides in sequence.  The album opens with the latter first (the shiny "In the Darkness") before showing off their bluesy swagger with the devastating "No Destruction," which is five minutes of pure perfection.  France's vocals there start like someone who's barely awake, but as the song builds he rouses himself into a fervor, like Jagger at his finest.

What follows dances between these two poles (throwing in the random surfer guitar instrumental ("Bowling Trophies") for good measure) -- tracks like "San Francisco" and "Shuggie" are classic 60s pop, while "On Blue Mountain" and the title track show off a little muscle. (And tracks like "Oh Yeah" walk the line between the two.)  All of it hands together nicely, though. Their debut clocks in at about half the duration of Temples', so definitely leaves you wanting more, but what's present still gives you plenty to chew on over repeated listens.

Two solid debuts from two bands who will transport you back in time -- check out "Shelter Song" from Temples and "No Destruction" from Foxygen to see for yourself:

Songs of the South

Based on the response to my last post (a whole TWO people read it that aren't planning to marry me!  I'm positively drowning in fan mail now!) I thought we'd start this one with another One You Should Know, this time for the enigmatic threesome The Devil Makes Three.  Sonically, there's nothing amiss -- a couple acoustic guitars, a string bass, and a bunch of catchy, singalong tunes to harmonize with.  Throw in the occasional fiddle, some banjo, and a jug in the back and you've got yourself a good ole time.  What's strange is that you wouldn't necessarily expect a trio of New Englanders in a California band to make such solid Southern music. Truth is stranger than fiction, though, and just like another legendary band that could instantly conjure the depths of the bayou from the California sun (Creedence), these guys deliver in spades.

Four albums in at this point -- including their most recent gem, I'm a Stranger Here, released late last year -- the band creates a vivid atmosphere, full of songs about fall-down drinking, storms a-brewing, and doom come judgment day. All the quintessential Southern themes are here, in rich, three-part harmony -- love, the Lord, bourbon, and signs of ill portent everywhere you look.  It's a potent brew, one that works on the porch with a julep as well as it does at the 'tonk with a whiskey and a beer. (Or at the concert hall with all three, if you're lucky enough to catch them live -- I saw them several years ago in Chicago and loved em at the outset.)

Below represents some of my favorites from their four albums, showing off the range of their charm and talent.  They're in no particular order -- just four from each of the albums, from oldest on -- so stick em on shuffle and get ready to ramble.

The Devil Makes Three
1. Shades (The Devil Makes Three)
2. Old Number Seven
3. To the Hilt
4. Nobody's Dirty Business
5. Man Tap (Longjohns, Boots, and a Belt)
6. Sweeping
7. Judgment Day
8. Tow
9. All Hail (Do Wrong Right)
10. Gracefully Facedown
11. For Good Again
12. Poison Trees
13. Forty Days (I'm a Stranger Here)
14. Dead Body Moving
15. Hand Back Down
16. Mr. Midnight

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I'm not sure what it is lately -- whether it's a response to my ongoing hatred of the self-important assholes surrounding me in DC, or a resurgence of my Midwestern by way of the South upbringing coming out in my old age -- but I've been fixating on the low country the last few months. (Maybe it's spending 70+ hours a week with two of the finest rednecks I've had the pleasure of knowing, too.)  Either way, I've been captivated by the South of late, so wanted to throw a couple more from down in the holler out there for your enjoyment.

First up is New Orleans' Hurray for the Riff Raff and a tune from their fourth album, Small Town Heroes, which was released early this year. Consisting of frontwoman Alynda Lee, drummer Yosi Pearlstein, and bassist David Maclay, the trio specializes in folky blues -- nothing elaborate, nothing fussy, just simple, honest tunes built around Lee's lovely voice.  The album strikes a slightly more somber tone than early offerings -- there's still uptempo winners like opener "Blue Ridge Mountain,"  "End of the Line," and "I Know it's Wrong (But That's Alright)" -- but the bulk of the album strikes a more melancholic note.

Which suits the band just fine -- Lee's voice is warm and inviting, even in the darkness, like an ember in the firepit while the wind howls around you. Tracks like "Crash on the Highway," "Good Time Blues (An Outlaw's Lament)," and "The Body Electric" all shine in spite of the lyrics threaded with black.  Nothing's better in that vein than the spare "The New SF Bay Blues," which is primarily Lee, her guitar, and acres of space.  You can picture her singing the hushed lullaby on a moonless night, her honey-dripped tones wafting off the porch like fireflies alight on the summer breeze.  It's a great tune on an overall solid album.  Check it out here:


We'll close with a little more Southern hospitality, this batch courtesy of the Kentucky quartet Houndmouth, who fill their debut album From the Hills Below the City with a dozen tracks that'll have you singing along with them in no time.  Chock full of three-part harmonies and belt it to the rafters choruses, there's nothing fancy going on here -- the album is part of the neo-Southern revival hastened by bands like the Alabama Shakes and the Lumineers -- but like those bands' offerings, there doesn't need to be.  Not when what's given is so good.  From the opening notes of lead track "On the Road," you're pretty well done.  What follows is the slow burn of "Come On, Illinois," the grand swell of "Penitentiary," the bluesy twang of "Ludlow," "Houston Train," and "Comin' Round Again," all of which shine even on withering repeat. (Which is what I've been subjecting them to.)

A perfect culmination comes in the smoldering "Krampus," which starts with a simple fingerpicked guitar and vocal and slowly adds in harmonies and instruments from the other band members, building to a climax with the soaring chorus.  Simple, winning, and oh-so effective.  This song, like the rest of the album around it, will leave you eager for what the band turns out next.  Keep your eyes peeled...

One You Should Know: J Roddy Walston & the Business

In honor of the madness for which this month is known, I thought I'd break with the tradition of the past few years and post something outside the year in review.  And to double the insanity I thought I'd dust off one of my favorite old formats, the titular form meant to showcase bands that are too good to ignore anymore and come with a helpful setlist highlighting the best the band can do.

The band good enough to make me break my vow of silence is the fantastic four piece from Baltimore (by way of Chattanooga) J Roddy Walston & the Business. Harnessing the chicken-fried vibe of their former environs while armoring it with the no-nonsense attitude of their current home, these guys bowl you over like a pissed off biker at a honkytonk.  I had the pleasure of catching them live last month and probably would have liked them anyway, for not only was the concert free, but the BEER was too. (Thanks, Lagunitas!)  Thankfully these guys seemed even more determined to wow as a result, and they definitely got folks to shut up and start moving during a positively blistering set. (Prompting some in the crowd to even start circle dancing around folks like mildly inebriated predators.)

Whether you get to see them live or not (and if given the option I highly recommend you do), it's easy to see why these guys have earned such a rabid following -- a point hopefully evidenced by the selections below.  The band is three albums in at this point, and they've sharpened their attack to near lethal effect from 2007's Hail Mega Boys.  That album was a more straightforward mix of Southern rock and shambling piano -- which is not to intimate it was simple.  Songs like "Rock and Roll the Second," "Go For It," and "Used to Did" (among the others below) all had you reaching for the volume and bellowing along.

This year's release, Essential Tremors -- to say nothing of their near flawless self-titled album in between -- unleashed something different, though.  There's still the irresistible alchemy of barroom blues and Zeppelin-style riffs and swagger, but they've concentrated it to such a degree it's potent enough to liquidate your brain at times. There are plenty of examples, lots of them in the below -- "Caroline," "Brave Man's Death," and top two favorite "Pigs and Pearls" represent the former, belt them to the rafters barnburners, while "Don't Break the Needle," "Don't Get Old," and "Sweat Shock" (among so many others) showcase the latter, blow out your speakers and maybe start a fist fight (or start circle dancing) ragers.

Nothing does it better than "Heavy Bells," though -- a perfect distillation of both categories that is so good it snaps something in your brain and makes you a maniac damn near every time you hear it.  It's a song that's honestly so good I can't say enough positive things about it, but am also reluctant to talk about it for fear of ruining it forever.  Suffice it to say it blew my brain apart the first time I heard it and made me a J Roddy acolyte instantly (and it made a room full of grownups lose their fucking MINDS when they played it live last month).  So hopefully you'll find it to your liking.

It -- and the rest of the Business' best (five from each of their three albums) -- are arranged for your enjoyment below:

J Roddy Walston & the Business --

1. Don't Break the Needle (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
2. Marigold (Essential Tremors)
3. Used to Did (Hail Mega Boys)
4. Heavy Bells (Essential Tremors)
5. Sweat Shock (Essential Tremors)
6. Don't Get Old (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
7. I'll Tell You What (Hail Mega Boys)
8. Take it as it Comes (Essential Tremors)
9. Nineteen Ought Four (Hail Mega Boys)
10. Midnight Cry (Essential Tremors)
11. Brave Man's Death (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
12. Caroline (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
13. Go Malachi (Hail Mega Boys)
14. Sally Bangs (Hail Mega Boys)
15. Pigs & Pearls (J Roddy Walston & the Business) 

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One other treat before I run out again for who knows how long. As if the aforementioned Roddy concert wasn't good enough (did I mention the free beer? I mean c'mon, people!), I also was treated to a great discovery with the opening act, Low Cut Connie, whose boozy mix of shambling piano, howling group vocals, and vintage rock and roll was enough to wow even without all the other pluses that night. Their 2012 album, Call Me Sylvia, is a fun medley of the above, showcasing the band's rotating arsenal of vocalists and sounds.  There's the Buddy Holly vibe of tracks like "Brand New Cadillac," the surfer rock of "Don't Cry Baby Blue," the Meters/Dirtbombs funk of "Pity Party," and the glammy punch of the title track.

Lead single "Boozophilia" is the best among equals, though, a high energy romp from Philly to my beloved city by the lake that'll have you singing along with the boys in no time.  Check it (and the album writ large) out here:

The Echo Chamber: Best Music of 2013

It's been an interesting year, my friends.  For every great advance -- engagement, promotion, permanently disfiguring body art -- there have been an equal number of frustrating retreats to earlier days. Case in point the chronically sleep deprived mind sitting down to write this -- my first and only post of the year again -- after another fifteen hour day and five calls in the middle of the night. Who says progress isn't improvement?

While in certain cases these reminders of yesteryear were a welcome surprise, as evidenced by several of the albums below and their time capsule charms, all too often they were an annoyance you just couldn't shake.  Names and flames that wouldn't fully disappear, workloads and worries that wouldn't let up.  Together they conspired to give the year a tug of war quality you couldn't quite escape; a low-grade buzzing in the ear just loud enough to diminish an otherwise brilliant symphony. But to focus on those woes in lieu of the wows would be a betrayal of my Chicago roots and the unassailable Sunshine name.

Because the wows were simply too good -- in addition to the three above there were new homes and haunts, great new friends and coworkers, and the arrival of my favorite little maritime craft to dote on. And then there's the absolute treasure trove of good music that came out this year.  For the one or two of you who still read this blog, you'll know I often struggle to adhere to the "top ten list" strictures this time of year, cramming anywhere from 15-17 discoveries into my annual list. This year, though, I struggled to keep it under thirty, and had to kick several frequent fliers off the manifest -- there was just that much quality stuff released.

So that's what you're left with below -- Bobby's effort to cram as much sunshine as he can into the annual wrapup, the thirty best albums I encountered this year.  Of those thirty, five were clear and away favorites -- albums of such perfection or purpose that to have them share space with another would besmirch their true value.  I listened to them relentlessly, and at times obsessively, so am confident they stand up to serious scrutiny.  For the remaining 25 I've paired them off -- in part for their thematic or stylistic kinship, and in part as homage to my impending twinning.  I hope you enjoy them -- as always, there's a little something for everyone, adventurous and conservative alike -- so take a few out for a test drive and let me know how the wind feels in your hair.  Until next year, my friends...

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1. Parquet Courts -- Light Up Gold:  A punky, brash blast from these newcomers from Brooklyn, this was hands down the album I listened to most this year.  Trashy, funny, and flat out fun, at thirty-four minutes this was the sonic equivalent of a meteor streaking across the sky.  The one-two opener of "Master of My Craft" and "Borrowed Time" set the tone early -- machine gun lyrics, racing backbeat, and surf-style guitar riffs flying all over the place -- while follow on tracks "Yonder is Closer to the Heart," "Light Up Gold II," and the deservedly ballyhooed "Stoned and Starving" continue blowing out windows along the album's arc. Downtempo gems like "Yr No Stoner," "Careers in Combat," and "Tears of Plenty" give momentary respite, merely serving as kindling to keep the blaze in the aforementioned's wake burning.

In conjunction with their subsequent EP (the five song Tally All the Things you Broke), these guys represent all the joy and charm of a killer garage band -- sharp, quick songs, snarled lip attitude, and lots and lots of energy. (Perhaps not coincidentally this was also one of my favorite shows of the year, as they thrashed around the Cat in a blistering little set.)  All in all, this is one hell of a debut album from a band definitely worth keeping an eye on.

2. Kanye West -- Yeezus: Only a genius like Kanye could make his most non-commercial album to date -- an aggressive, at times abrasive offering that seems almost intent on repelling those who love him for his polished, layered singles of the past -- and still deliver something so tremendous. And don't kid yourself -- this IS a tremendous album.  Despite his statements in the opening "On Sight" of how little a fuck he gives -- right before he pauses the electronic squalls to cut to a children's choir -- Kanye's packed this album full of an embarrassment of riches, all surreptitiously crafted with meticulous care under the banner of middle finger in the air rebellion.

Of all the albums on the list it's perhaps the most emblematic of the year writ large with its push-pull qualities.  For every potentially offensive lyric or annoying sound -- and there are enough of both to have given writers plenty of fodder to keep them going over the year -- there are a greater number of classic lyrics or mind-melting sounds to tip the balance. (The marrow-rattling growl of "Black Skinhead" or the exasperated line about croissants, which still makes me smile every time I hear it, to name two.) Similar to the year's nagging frustrations, the more you push past these superficial issues, the more you're treated to an abundance of fortune.  Vocal flourishes or samples that make you weak in the knees -- the instant classic Nina Simone sample in "Blood on the Leaves" for the latter or Kanye-crony Justin Vernon's ever-amazing voice embellishing "Hold my Liquor" and "I'm In It" for the former.

This album is pure id -- songs about sex and liquor and god complexes, all surrounded by the screams and wails of a noisy, unencumbered pleasure system. I know I say it pretty much every year now (and I do, since Kanye's had an album make the list in each of the last three years), but Kanye remains the most ruthlessly creative guy in music right now, one constantly taking chances or pushing the envelope for what people will respond to.  And he's pushed the farthest to date with this one.  Thankfully it's worth the effort to understand.

3. Foals -- Holy Fire: Of all the bands on the list this year, this was my most pleasant discovery as I got to experience not only this, their third album, but each of their previous two as if they were new, as well -- 2008's Antidotes and 2010's Total Life Forever -- because they were to me.  I can't remember how, exactly, I backed into these guys, but I'm damn glad I did as I've run these three albums through the thresher this year.

As on those older outings, the band harnesses a smoldering, somewhat Caribbean vibe in their songs, often building layers of jittery, reverb-laden guitar until the songs blow apart in flurries of frenzied color. From tracks like "My Number" and "Bad Habit" to "Late Night" and lead single "Inhaler," the band blends their poppy energy with good old fashioned rock breaks that continuously have you on the edge of dancing. (As one of the many Lolla bands on the list this year, they also put on a heck of a show live that did, in fact, have folks thrashing about.) Always good for a reliable dose of energy whenever I put them on, these Oxford boys were my island getaway band whenever I needed a jolt this year.

4. Alt-J -- An Awesome Wave: This one wins the truth in advertising award, as its title is indeed reflective of the rush of sounds and influences that run throughout this album.  With everything from art rock esotery to acapella interludes, electronic edges, and folk rock sidebars, this album covers an impressive amount of terrain. There's the lush "Tessellate," the surfer riff smoldering in "Fitzpleasure," the soaring harmonies in "Taro," the all-around lovely "Matilda." And then there's the glorious "Breezeblocks," which goes from oddly entrancing ditty with its dancing xylophone accompaniment to something truly special when it shifts gears at the end to a love song in the round.

At times lead singer Joe Newman's voice can sound a bit like an Adam Sandler impression gone awry, but the beautiful melodies and harmonies that proliferate here are more than enough to win over any doubters.  The band sounds surprisingly good live, too, as we managed to catch and enjoy them -- after Ms. Kymbers shouted the jabbermouths around us into silence -- at Lolla. It's easy to see why this took home Britain's prestigious Mercury Prize this year -- an original, daring mix of dissonant sounds and influences, this one's a true beauty.

5. Cayucas -- Bigfoot: If the Foals were my go-to this year for a reliable jolt of energy, Cayucas were my ready dispensers for sunbeams.  Appropriately hailing from California, this album instantly transports you to the coast -- be it a top-down drive along the water or a sunsoaked romp on the beach -- while taking you back in time, as well.  Sounding a bit like the Beach Boys' nieces and nephews,  the album's washed out vocals and simple, shimmery guitar riffs bring you back to the sun-and-surf era of the early 60s with aplomb.

Songs like the opening one-two of "Cayucos" and lead single "High School Lover" start an instant beach party, while "Will 'the Thrill,'" "A Summer Thing," and "East Coast Girl" form the soundtrack for when you're on your back out of breath once the sand's stopped flying. Great harmonies, great vibe, and with only eight songs you're definitely left wanting more.  Here's to hoping it comes soon!

6. (TIE) Arcade Fire -- Reflektor; Nine Inch Nails -- Hesitation Marks: On to the double features...The thread bringing these two together -- two of the best either artist has released, it turns out -- is their unexpected urge to make you dance. Neither of these artists are known for making you move your feet -- Arcade's sweet spot typically is soaring, anthemic songs while NIN's is forming the misanthropic soundtrack for some post-apocalyptic, end of the world scenario -- but both of these albums reveal an innate funkiness that brings forth welcome new aspects to their sound.

It's perhaps a little more jarring for Arcade, just for how wholeheartedly (and aggressively) the band rolled out the new sound -- with the hugely promoted double album, the much hyped production by former LCD Soundsystem frontman James Murphy, the potentially cloying (or pretentious, to quote Colbert) costumes and makeup during initial performances. (See the skin-crawling SNL performance for the most egregious example.) Once you push past all that nonsense, though, you're greeted with some pretty great songs -- there's lead single "Reflektor" whose bongo break at the end of the song's third minute still makes my heart race; there's the gonzo Carnival freakout at the end of "Here Comes the Night," which remains my high point on the album; the Smiths-ish "You Already Know;" the Bowie-esque "Joan of Arc;" the flat out excellent "Afterlife."  Taken as a whole, you start to understand what the band was getting after -- a simple, Mardi Gras style good time with flecks of the 80s in the crust -- and you begin to forgive the ham-handed rollout.

For NIN, the surprise isn't that the funkiness exists -- it's been there to some degree on every album since the beginning, from "Kinda I Want To" to "Suck" or even "Closer." What surprises here is the prominence.  Instead of dusting a song with it here or there, it's treated as a primary ingredient here, propelling songs throughout the album.  From "All Time Low" to "Satellite," "Running," and even lead single "Came Back Haunted," there's a slinking sexiness to the songs that takes the album -- already on par with previous classics The Downward Spiral and The Fragile -- to another level.

7. (TIE) The National -- Trouble Will Find Me; Vampire Weekend -- Modern Vampires of the City: The theme for this slot is Keep Doing What You're Doing (Part I). Neither of these artists are strangers to this site's wrapup ramblings -- National topped the 2010 list and finished second in 2008; Vampire, despite not charting, has shown up in both those years after finishing just outside the cut -- and neither changes much up on their sixth and third albums, respectively. The National remain masters of melancholy, offering another brood of beautiful, brooding tunes -- lead single "Don't Swallow the Cap," "Sea of Love," and "Graceless" are perfect companion pieces to 2010's High Violet, while "Fireproof" ranks among the band's best songs.

Vampire, too, largely continues what they've done so well to date -- jaunty, quirky indie rock melding front man Ezra Koenig's hyper-literate lyrics and nasally falsetto with the band's African rhythms and globetrotting sensibilities. There's the almost spiritual hymn of opener "Obvious Bicycle;" the belt-it-to-the-rafters chorus of lead single "Unbelievers;" the lush chamber pop flourishes of "Step;" the motormouth blitz of "Worship You." What's new (and what represents the ancillary theme for this slot) is the note of darkness that runs through the album. (Everything the National touches has a bit of black to it, after all, it's just a matter of shading.) There's a sense of weariness under the surface here; a touch of jaundice tinting the otherwise sunny yellow that makes the album resonate a little more.  Case in point the incredible "Hannah Hunt," an elegiac gem that slowly shifts from defeated murmur to resilient yowl in four short minutes. Beautiful stuff from both bands -- so keep it comin'!

8. (TIE) Queens of the Stone Age -- ...Like Clockwork; Black Rebel Motorcycle Club -- Specter at the Feast: This one's the rock block (also known as Keep Doing What You're Doing (Part II)), which highlights the two best straight rock albums of the year.  Both albums chart similar paths -- both are best enjoyed as the dark soundtrack to a midnight drive, out cruising for (or causing) a little mischief. Both have smoldering, slow burn openers followed by a handful of uptempo barnburners on par with the bands' best.  The remainder of the songs at times feel like treading water -- not bad by any means, but maybe lacking a bit of the fire of some of the standouts.  Which I'll take pretty much any day of the week -- even tarnished diamonds still shine more than almost everything around them, after all -- it just keeps these albums from being truly exceptional face melters.

For Queens that means their reunion with drum god Dave Grohl lacks a bit of the venom of their 2002 classic Songs for the Deaf, but what they leave behind can at times still be pretty blistering. There's the aforementioned opener "Keep Your Eyes Peeled," followed by the fantastic "I Sat by the Ocean," "If I Had a Tail," and lead single "My God is the Sun."  All show the band at the top of their form (as did their face-melting set at Lolla this year, which was a top three finisher for the festival).

For BRMC the black lava opener is "Fire Walker," which is followed by  the equally sludgy "Sell It," the vintage "Let the Day Begin," and the firebomb barrage of "Hate the Taste," "Rival," and "Teenage Disease."  Interspersed are songs showcasing the band's brand of folksy gospel like "Returning," "Lullaby," "Lose Yourself," and "Warning Sign," all of which dutifully add to that side of the band's canon. Both albums show why these bands are potent combos -- even if they pop out to the second baseman every now and again.

9. (TIE) Pusha T -- My Name is My Name; El-P and Killer Mike -- Run the Jewels; Danny Brown -- Old: This one's the rap attack and appropriately where we break from the monogamy parade for a freaky little threesome.  First up is Pusha's first official album (after a series of excellent mixtapes) and he pulls out all the stops with guest spots by Rick Ross, 2 Chainz, Pharrell, and others. Thankfully he isn't papering over shoddy framework as the album maintains all the quality of his former work, the trio of albums from the ever excellent Clipse. (The best rap outfit of the past ten years, if you're curious.) From lead single "Numbers on the Board" to tracks like "King Push" and "Nosetalgia," there's still the coke rap he/Clipse were known for, but the album finds him branching out a bit as well, with tracks like "Hold On," "40 Acres," and "Let me Love You," which touch on less classic rap bravura topics like love, suicide, and slavery. Pusha shows why Kanye recruited him to both his label and his posse here, and both benefit from the partnership -- Kanye adds some musicality and diversity to Pusha's street grit and stinging lyrics and Kanye gets a little edge to his pink polo and backpack origins.

Speaking of grit, next up is the positively grimy collaboration from El-P and Killer Mike, a ten song assault on your senses, sensibilities, and resistance to rap (if for some reason you still have one after 30 years). The songs are unabashedly aggressive, rapping with zeal about drugs and violence over beats that are sledgehammer heavy at times. ("The beat breaks and your teeth break," as Mike raps on the album's closer.) If you push past the shock and awe front, though, you'll be treated to two of the best lyrical performances of the year.  El and Mike positively shred the mike with some of their verses -- see the title track, "36" Chain," and the brain melting "Sea Legs" once El gets rolling.  And that's why this is a perfect test to win over rap haters -- it has all the hot button things people hate about it, but El and Mike's skill is so amazing that I think it's impossible not to warm to.  With flow this blistering and hot, just call it magma.

All this goes double for Danny Brown's album Old -- almost literally, as this monster debut clocks in at 19 tracks and is chock full of debauchery over its hour duration. Brown looks and sounds a bit like the reincarnation of Ol Dirty Bastard, most pointedly as he honks out verses of near-nonsense like a demented toucan (as on the infectious "Wonderbread, for one) or chronicles his graphic sexploits ("Dope Fiend Rental," "Red to Go," virtually all of Side B). His maniacal energy -- and lyrical skill -- punch through any worries about one note subject matter and keep you coming back for more, though.  For he is bringing more than a Solo cup and erection to the party -- Brown has some serious skills and more going on upstairs than the party tracks may convey.  Check out down tempo tunes like "The Return," "25 Bucks," "Clean Up," and "Float On" as proof.  Their dexterity and depth help highlight the other side of the lunatic party persona from songs like "Smokin & Drinkin," lead single "Dip," and the rest of side B.  One hell of a debut -- we'll see where the party takes us on future offerings.

10. (TIE) Airborne Toxic Event -- Such Hot Blood; Bastille -- Bad Blood: Besides the titular similarities, these two are paired together for their big hearted, sing em to the rafters choruses and their status as the two most reliable instigators of an in car karaoke party this year. My fiancee hates Airborne, saying they sound like a bad Christian rock band, and I understand the resistance -- lead singer Mikel Jollett's voice and his penchant for throwing synths and strings into every song's climax can sound pleading and pretentious, potentially.  To me, though, it's always sounded predominantly sincere; almost an alien reflection of unguarded openness that hasn't been diluted by cynicism or walled off as a defense to pain. They're the fat nerd in high school always wearing Star Wars T-shirts and talking about comic books on the way to AV club -- for some reason they haven't had that brilliant honesty beaten out of them yet.

So basically these guys get the Macklemore Exception -- their to-some over-earnestness gets a pass from me, if for no other reason than to keep encouraging a little unadulterated emoting from this end of the spectrum. God knows we've got plenty of batshit crazy lunatics out there flinging their nuttiness in our faces -- why not a little more sincerity and heart to balance things out?  If you're on board with that, you should find plenty to enjoy because there are some great tunes here -- there's the standard soaring anthems like opener "The Secret," "The Storm," and lead single "Timeless," but there are also more introspective, understated gems like "This is London," "Elizabeth," and "Bride and Groom," which highlight the band's gift for sprawling Springsteen-esque narratives.  Call em corny or call em cliched, but I'll call em keepers -- they keep me singing along, for three albums and counting now.

As for Bastille, they too can suffer the slings of over-earnestness and pop polish on their debut, for it is a pretty, shiny thing.  The twelve tracks from these Londoners are a mix of piano ballads and electropop -- two trademarks of the Bobby Sunshine brand, I know -- but for whatever reason their heart and harmonies grab hold and bring you close. From tracks like "Overjoyed," "Oblivion," and "Daniel in the Den" (for the former) to "Things we Lost in the Fire," "These Streets," and the title track these songs get their hooks in, an affliction that only worsens with time.  And I defy anyone to listen to "Pompeii" and "Flaws" and not sing along at the top of your lungs.  If you can, you need medical attention because you're dead inside. #truthbomb

11. (TIE) The Features -- The Features; Kings of Leon -- Mechanical Bull:  This one's for The Voice (aka Keep Doing What You're Doing (Part III), starring two of the best rock voices around, The Features' Matt Pelham and Kings' Caleb Followill.  It's appropriate these two are paired together for other reasons, too, as I discovered the Features when they opened for Kings years ago and actually impressed me more than the headliners I'd shown up for.  Were it not for me breaking with tradition and actually showing up for an opening act, I might never have found what now ranks as one of my favorite little bands, so consider this a bit of debt paying, as well.

Both albums show the bands relying on their beloved strengths (both have finished on the annual wrapups several times before, including as recently as last year -- the Features earned the #2 spot for Wilderness, while the Kings nabbed the #10 slot for their last album three years ago, 2010's Come Around Sundown), while also branching out a bit to keep things fresh.  For whatever reason, both chose the 80s as the element to mine for in their drilling -- for the Features it ends up being synth, for Kings it's 80's style, reverby guitar -- but thankfully it works for both of them.

The Features' album is a little less straight-forward rock than previous offerings and a bit more of a departure for them, coming across a bit like an 80's era dance party, fueled mainly by the more prominent synth and predominance of songs about love.  "Tenderly" (lovingly rechristened "Tymberly" for how much it sounds like our new team name) and "Won't Be Long" sound like vintage offerings, but tracks like "This Disorder," "With Every Beat," and "Ain't No Wonder" show the band fusing things in a slightly different manner. Like I said, though, it works -- the band remains fantastic live (their intimate back room blast at the Cat was one of the high points this year), drummer Rollum Haas remains a ridiculously underrated drummer (deceptively so -- but I challenge you to keep up with him on tracks like "Won't Be Long" or "Ain't No Wonder," which sound a whole lot easier than they are), and these guys writ large remain worth keeping track of.

The latter can be said for the Kings, too, who despite their annoying, self-important public personas and constant infighting keep churning out albums full of solid rock songs on this, their sixth full length effort. We've known for years that the fiery, shambling glory of their early years has been forsaken for the broader, more radio-friendly embrace of the mainstream, but the band seems to have grown into that role more comfortably (and less desperately) here than it's felt at times in the past. So what we're left with is a confident batch of tracks that'll have you reaching for the volume and tilting back your head to sing along even louder.  From lead single "Supersoaker" and its follow on "Rock City," to tracks like "Temple," "Tonight," and the rollicking "Family Tree," the band shows glimmers of the swagger of yore.  Whereas tracks like "Beautiful War," "Wait For Me," "Comeback Story," and "On the Chin" highlight the lighters in the air heart of recent years that's bound to end up on the airwaves. (Rightfully so, as they're solid tracks.) As much as they give you to hate, they give you double to like, so I'm stickin' with em to see what comes next.

12. (TIE) Junip -- Junip; The Dodos -- Carrier: This slot's for the criminally underrated and a nod to some super talented musicians making really pretty music.  For the Dodos, it's not their first rodeo -- they were last here for their fourth album, 2011's No Color, which earned them the #3 spot that year -- but it is the first dance for Junip with this, their second full length. Which is not to say they were one of the year's prized discoveries -- that title goes to any of the first timers we've covered so far (and the equal number still to come).

The band's 2010 debut Fields was a solid affair very similar to this year's offering, but by that point I'd already been following lead singer Jose Gonzalez for years with his trademark marriage of phenomenal classic guitar playing and his haunting voice.  Junip took those sounds and plugged them in, building on the stripped down acoustic style of his solo work and giving them a little meat with the help of bandmates (and fellow Scandinavians) Elias Araya and Tobia Winterkorn.  Those elements haven't paled or grown tiresome in the three years between albums -- the band again offers a smoldering batch of dark, lush songs that at times crackle like a log in the fire.  Tracks like the opening "Line of Fire," "So Clear," "Your Life Your Call," and "Walking Lightly" build the heat while the closing duo "Beginnings" and "After All is Said and Done" are the blissed out embers at the end of the night.  Put this on and bask in the warmth.

For the Dodos, this fifth album finds them bridging their previous pattern of staid, sometimes melancholic album followed by a more buoyant, even joyous one, a pattern that held through their previous four offerings. Carrier charts the course between the two to positive effect -- "Relief," "Holidays," "Death," and "The Ocean" plumb the darker water, while "Substance," "Confidence," "The Current," and "Destroyer" navigate the sunnier coastal shores. The album's opening track perhaps purposely boils this dynamic down to a single song, the aptly named "Transformer," which cants and reels like a sailboat in a squall.  Frontman Meric Long and his percussive tempest Logan Kroeber continue to put out winning, heartfelt music (and an equally strong live performance), and this album is no different. These guys remain among my favorites.

13. (TIE) Jake Bugg -- Jake Bugg; Shovels and Rope -- O Be Joyful: For the final chapter of this review we enter the wormhole and go back in time.  If Act I of the wrapup was The Untouchables and Act II was Catching up with Old Friends (minus the stray ingenue), Act III is the Land of The Newcomers, ten debuts from folks hearkening back to earlier days -- two per decade. As is only appropriate, we'll start at the beginning with this pair of albums giving us a dose of the 60s.

First, and perhaps most notably of all the throwbacks, is Jake Bugg's debut, which dances so effortlessly between late 60s Dylan and Croce it can give you chills.  The opening third of the album is all Dylan -- lead single "Lightning Bolt" and its middle finger follow on "Two Fingers," along with "Taste It," "Seen it All," and "Trouble Town" are uncanny analogs to Big Bob's early days. Whereas slower acoustic tunes like "Simple as This," "Country Song," "Broken," and "Someone Told Me" are lovely finger-picked gems that would make the Hard Time Losin' Man himself proud. What makes all this even more impressive is that a 19-year old English kid could so effectively replicate two giants of the American canon. As he already showed on his equally excellent Shangri-La (released late this year), this wasn't a flash in the pan -- you've seen the signs, so jump on the lightning bolt.

Husband and wife duo Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst take us a bit earlier in the decade, tipping more toward early 60s folk groups (of which there are oodles to pick from, so pick your favorite and away we go).  They capture the warmth of the sound well -- the album is perfectly named, as it never fails to get me grinning when it comes on -- and that spell is only deepened when you see the pair play live. This was one of the six Act III bands we saw at Lolla this year and they were among the highlights, mixing a fan wedding proposal into the joyful set without missing a beat. The two feed off each other and even on the album you can hear them smiling at each other while they sing. You really can't miss here -- from lead single "Birmingham" to "Keeper," "Tickin Bomb," "Cavalier," and the title track, the album is chock full of singalong gems.  So grab a chair and warm up those knees -- they'll keep the beat nicely once you hit play.

14. (TIE) Night Moves -- Colored Emotions; Little Green Cars -- Absolute Zero: These two take us into the 70s with their rich harmonies and warm AM radio sound.  First up is Night Moves, the Minneapolis trio I stumbled on to when they opened for Django Django this year and really wowed me with their lush, bright melodies. Similar to Shovels there's no single band they're particularly evocative of, but rather call to mind the mood of a broader time or place -- in this case those Laurel Canyon bands from the early 70s when the studio polish and drugs started taking hold, sanding off both the music's rougher edges and its innocence, which led to the decadence and vacuousness of the disco era. For that stretch of time, though, we had music like this -- pretty, unadulterated music that was shot through with California sun.  There's no fat here -- it's sequenced so well the songs run together like one big tone poem. Mountain peaks include "Headlights," "Only a Child," "Family Tongues," "Put Out Your Shoulder/Horses," and the title track.

Little Green Cars dance through the same valley as Night Moves, but sound very much like a specific band -- in this case, golden era Fleetwood Mac with their soaring, three-part guy-gal harmonies and soulful, bluesy siren that creeps in to steal the show on certain tracks. At times the echoes are eerie -- "My Love Took me Down to the River to Silence Me" sounds so much like a Stevie Nicks vocal you swear you've heard her sing it before, while "The Kitchen Floor" sounds like a lost track from Rumours.  Even when the echoes are more muted (however slightly that may be) the band succeeds -- from fan favorites "Harper Lee" and "Angel Owl" to "Big Red Dragon" and lead single "The John Wayne," these guys can get your heart rate up and your vocal chords vibrating with ease.

15. (TIE) Wild Cub -- Youth; Atlas Genius -- When it Was Now: The time warp continues forward into the decadent, hazy 80s now with its synth-laden dance parties, jangly guitars, and ethereal vocals, everything awash in reverb (and a healthy layer of cocaine dust). Leading the charge here is the Nashville quintet Wild Cub and their buoyant batch of throwback tracks, which channel the best of the era of excess' energy and bounce.  Tracks like "Colour," "Wishing Well," "Summer Fires/Hidden Spells" and the jaunty lead single "Thunder Clatter" dance along with all the colors of the Benetton rainbow, while "Jonti" and "Wild Light" capture the bubbly Caribbean vibe so predominant back then.  The band puts on a surprisingly good live show, too, relying on more live instrumentation than electronic assistance than you'd expect to get the party started.  Worth a look/listen.

If Cub represents the club, Atlas are 80s rock radio -- synth backed songs full of jittery guitar and soaring choruses that make up for their utter lack of danger or edge with indelible melodies. And I'm ok with that, because there are some REALLY catchy songs on here. Opener "Electric," "Back Seat," and "Symptoms" all bundle nifty little riffs with catchy hooks, while the two lead singles "If So" and "Trojans" are absolutely undeniable. There's nothing complicated (or all that manly) going on here, but I found myself letting this one play whenever it popped up on shuffle during the year.  Why not? Some guys get beard trimmers and tattoos, some get loofahs and pedicures. Who am I to judge? Bright, clean sound, catchy lyrics and riffs, all in a package that's kid tested, mother approved.  These brothers from down under might be on to something.

16. (TIE) The Neighbourhood -- I Love You.; ZZ Ward -- Til the Casket Drops: Next stop on the fun bus takes us to the 90s when hip hop was creeping into everything it touched -- political campaigns, advertising, slang used by soccer moms ("raise the ROOF, son! This is WHACK!") -- only sometimes to positive effect.  Case in point being these two offerings, which capitalize on the genre's cadence and sturdy backbeat while staying true to the originating material (predominantly indie, with a little soul thrown in for ZZ -- but more on that shortly.)

For Neighbourhood, the inspiration seems to be stoner bands like 311 or Incubus, though with more talent and things to say. (My fiancee, a fervent defender of both "bands" probably just spit out her drink as she's reading this.) The band captures the California vibe nicely -- their home, it so happens -- as the album is infused with languid rhythms and a mood that stretches out like a cat in the sun, encouraging you to do the same.  Tracks like "Afraid," "Everybody's Watching Me (Uh Oh)," "W.D.Y.W.F.M.," and "Staying Up" are all woozy warmth, while lead singles "Sweater Weather," "Let it Go," and "Female Robbery" magnify that effect like a nice carmenere. The band puts on a surprisingly good live show, too -- we caught them at Lolla and were won over to check out the deeper tracks.  You should do the same.


ZZ's album is a bit of an anachronism -- it's got clear hip hop and country influences, but doesn't fit neatly in either category; her soul-inflected voice and delivery owes a definite debt to modern acts like Adele, but also hearkens back to the golden era of 60s soul; and the sheer singability of almost every song here tips to pop leanings, but the substance filling the songs belies any bubble gum superficiality.  And thus you've got an album that doesn't really fit anywhere -- one that calls to mind a little bit of everything, but is beholden to none of them.  In short, the true 90s slacker, a misfit with no nation or allegiance.

Which is a long way of characterizing a really great little album -- for all the difficulties your brain has figuring out how to categorize it, the songs go down easily.  From the title track and lead single "Put the Gun Down" to tracks like "Blue Eyes Blind," "Cryin Wolf," "Lil Darlin," and "Move Like You Stole It," these are some really infectious tunes.  ZZ kind of came out of nowhere and still lingers off the radar, but I have a feeling she'll be worth tracking down to see what she does next.

17. (TIE) Guards -- In Guards we Trust; Jagwar Ma -- Howlin': Last stop on the time warp is the early 2000s and our modern bands, which tend to reflect the ADD nature of our kids and dabble in a little bit of everything, from earlier eras to the weirdest, most esoteric instrument/influence/sound you can get your hands on, to varying degrees of success.  These two, at least, get it right, mashing together both the modern and the historic, creating a bit of a butterfly effect when you try to tear it apart.

The Guards are a bit of a mystery -- there's not much written on them (the vaunted AllMusic, for example, has nary a word outside their album's track listings), but that doesn't much matter as the music is so warm and embracing. (For what it's worth leadman Richie Follin started the band as a spinoff of his sister's band Cults with bandmates Loren Humphrey and Kaylie Church and off we go.) Sounding a bit like early MGMT, the band run through a dozen tracks of relentlessly sunny, slightly psychedelic pop that'll have you singing/moving along in no time.  Tracks like "Giving Out," "Not Supposed To," and "Coming True," with their belt it to the rafters choruses all shine, while the Bowie-esque lead single "Ready to Go" multiplies that by 11.  A really consistent and enjoyable (but NOT fun!) debut.

If Guards bring up echoes of MGMT's psychedelic pop, Jagwar call to mind psychedelic tripsters Beta Band (with a healthy pinch of the Beach Boys thrown in for good measure). The Australian trio throw a lot in the pot on their debut, filling songs with sunny three-part harmonies and surfer guitar riffs that ride along on lead singer Gabriel Winterfield's voice like modern day updates to the Wilson brothers' catalog. ("That Loneliness," "Let Her Go")  Others start out as similar romps on the beach before devolving into trippy electro fragments swirling in the round. ("The Throw," glorious lead single "Come Save Me")  Others never leave that realm, dancing firmly in Betas territory throughout, all bird chirps, hypnotic beats, and strange percussion. ("What Love," "Four," "Exercise")  Somehow it all holds together, though, capitalizing on this strange mix of influences for a great little album.