Play To Z: Remix After All to Shut Up, Dude

Some Observations

No central thesis at the end of this series of observations, in part because this run of albums was so fantastic that narrowing down to one artist would be impossible. That said, there's a common theme that emerges through the observations...

  Return To Cookie Mountain was my introduction to TV On The Radio. Well, I say it was my introduction - my real introduction was seeing them perform live at a one-day festival in Mountain View, California (home of Google). It wasn't the perfect introduction: we were far back from the stage, they were on early in the day, and I think they're one of those bands that are better suited to a venue than a festival (The Shins also played, and their sound was lost in the larger arena). That said, they made enough of an impact with their performance that I went out and bought the album, and it didn't disappoint. Their sound was unlike anything else I was listening to at that time, fusing electro, funk, blues and rock and making something new from them. They're one of those bands that's not afraid to push their sound in new directions, and that's always rewarding.

  Talking of pushing your sound...Revolver. What can I write about Revolver (that hasn't been written already, by people much smarter than me)? It's a truly remarkable album, my favourite of the Beatles' discography, and really shows the band as they transition from their original Merseybeat pop sound to something a lot more experimental.

  And from Revolver, we move on to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars, with Bowie going full blown concept-album space opera and embracing one of his most iconic personas. Again, it sees an artist pushing themselves to create something wholly new but still powered by a pop sensibility.

  And leaping forward in time, we have Robyn, with everyone's favourite batshit insane Swede fusing her pop heritage with electronica and hip-hop and crafting something fierce and angular but still run through with warmth and humour. Robyn is one of those artists who has constantly evolved over time, moving from prepackaged pop starlet to an iconic pop mistress for the new millennium, all while playing entirely by her own rules. We need more pop stars like her.



  "Bust-Out Brigade" by The Go! Team does strange things to my head. It's one of those songs I can listen to 10 times in a row and never grow bored of. It transports me to a different world, one where marching bands move in synchronised patterns around double dutch teams as blaxploitation detectives and kung fu fighters leap from fireballs. It makes me feel invincible.

  And we come to Romance Is Boring, my favourite album by my favourite band, Los Campesinos! If we ignore the EEP released in between, the leap from Hold On Now, Youngster to this album is considerable. Romance... is a much more adult, serious record, leaving behind a lot of the twee conceits of their first album but retaining their incisive observations and lyrical flourishes. Their sound is expanded, adding horns and a richer palette of instruments. It manages to move from rollicking anthems of romantic cynicism to heartbreaking hymns of young death easily. It is a wonder.

  Beck's Sea Change is his most personal record, a heartfelt collection of slow, haunting songs after several albums drenched in ironic distance. It's like mainlining melancholy; a brave choice for a artist most wouldn't have associated with this kind of work before, but it pays off. It shows a whole other side of Beck's songwriting talent, and gives us songs of breath-taking beauty.

  In case you were wondering, the best Bond theme is "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" and there is absolutely no contest.

Rediscovered Gem

"Honeybear" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Play To Z: Odelay to Please Please Me

Random Observations

Odelay is one of my favourite albums, and one of the few where every track is considered a favourite. I love all of Beck's albums to some degree or another, but I'm not sure he'll ever surpass this one. It's a perfect realisation of his early "junkyard mash-up" sound that still carries a lot of heart underneath all the samples and white noise.

  I've talked about where my musical taste comes from, and how my family have had very little impact on my choices, but one figure who has is my half-brother Jeff. Almost 30 years my elder and seen for perhaps 4 or 5 days a year, he has nonetheless managed to steer me towards some great artists, such as Martin Grech, who's Open Heart Zoo I would describe as "a howl of rage and sadness by a robot conducting an orchestra in a metalwork factory".

  It's a stupid complaint, because in theory it's an easy fix, but I've always been annoyed at myself for not being more involved in our local music scene. I don't know why I'm not - Norwich has a pretty vibrant musical culture, and I've even got friends who dabble in it, but I've just never got into the swing of it. One of the bands I have come across is The Brownies, an excellent indie rock band following in the steps of the Riot Grrl movement. Their album, Ourknife Yourback, is a great record filled with fantastically spiky tunes.

  Jamie T's Panic Prevention is one of those albums that I'll forever associate with the time I spent in America, not that it's at all American. In fact, it's one of those albums that I find amazingly evocative of London. It's kind of the flip side to The Good, The Bad and The Queen, which feels rooted in London's history and mythology. Panic Prevention is about the reality - dance floors and minor tragedies and lap dancers and getting the last tube home. It feels like a good collection of short stories, giving momentary glances into people's lives, filled with rich detail and a lived-in quality.

  Parallel Lines. 'Nuff said.

  When I was around 8 or 9, my sister taped me a copy of Blur's Parklife with, inexplicably, "Gangsta's Paradise" added on before and after the album. It was one of the few albums from that time in my life that I still listen to, although unfortunately it's no longer on my turquoise Sony Walkman, sandwiched in between Coolio.

  Paul's Boutique. 'Nuff said.

  I find all The Decemberists' albums enjoyable to some extent, but I think Picaresque might be my favourite.  There's a wonderful seam of tragedy running through the whole thing, from the adolescent embarrassment of "The Sporting Life" to the grotesque vengeance of "The Mariner's Revenge Song". Perhaps the saddest of the lot, I would rate "On The Bus Mall" amongst my all-time favourite songs, even though it's the tale of two homeless teenage runaways forced into prostitution to survive.

Rediscovered Gem

"Vessel" by Zola Jesus

Play To Z: Lost In Space to The Moldy Peaches

Some Observations

Listening through Love & Happiness, the Al Green best of compilation, you realise how many fantastic songs the man has given the world, but I don't think anything will ever compare with "Let's Stay Together", which manages to stand head and shoulders above an impressive discography.

I'm still waiting for the Justice League film/TV show I have in my head to be made, which features Florence and the Machine's "Kiss With A Fist" sound-tracking Batman and Wonder Woman having a sparring session that turns into a make-out session. Warner Bros, I'm here when you need me.

Because I have no money but a plentiful supply of blank CDs and cardboard, I'm making mix CDs for my two nephews and niece this Christmas. My niece's is a ladies-only mix, ranging from Nina Simone and Taylor Swift to The Breeders and X-Ray Spex. One artist I couldn't fit on there was Kate Nash, but after re-listening to Made Of Bricks, I'm hoping my niece catches the music bug enough to come to me for more recommendations, because this will be high on my list.

An Internal Dialogue
Tim: Eugh, why do you still have The Magic Numbers album, self? It's by-the-numbers folk pop. Walking down this road will only lead you to Mumford & Sons.
Tim: But listen to the vocal harmonies! They're so pretty!
Tim: I don't know how I put up with you.
Tim: *too busy dancing to respond*

I'm very lucky to have wonderful friends who occasionally send me mixes of their own. One I listened to recently was from university friend Tom (who's been mentioned on here before) called Make Sure You Know What An Off-Colour Sea Lion Looks Like (named for a Blue Jam sketch that was included on there), which is a wonderful selection of tunes from artists like Stars, The Hold Steady, Beirut and The National. It also included on of the oddest songs I own, "The Centaur" by Buck 65. It's well worth a listen.

Sitting at my desk at work and listening to Passion Pit's Manners without jumping up and starting a one-person dance party was extremely hard.

One off my all time ultimate party tunes will always be "Sweet Home Country Grammar", a mash-up of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" and Nelly's "Country Grammar" by DJ Mei-Lwun. It hits the perfect balance of laid-back summer cool and hyped-up party starter.

Ssshhhh...apart from "My Girls", I don't actually like Merriweather Post Pavilion that much. Don't tell any of the cool kids, or they'll kick me out of their club.

Midnite Vultures wasn't the most well-received of Beck's albums, with a lot of people dismissing it as a featherweight homage to Prince shot through with Beck's typical genre-fusing madcappery. What people failed to appreciate how goddamn fun it was; a bizarro electric cyclone ripping through a sci-fi orgy. It's a masterpiece of both lyrical gymnastics and musical artistry.

Getting Lost In Space

I wrote last time about my period of finding wonderful new artists through rather circuitous routes, and Aimee Mann was no different. Two of her songs were featured on an episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer (in fact she performed live at The Bronze and mentions that she "hates playing vampire towns") and at around the same time, I saw Magnolia for the first time, my introduction to the work of Paul Thomas Anderson and one of my favourite films. Mann worked extensively with Anderson on the film's soundtrack and the centrepiece of the film's second act sees the cast breaking the fourth wall to perform a version of Mann's "Wise Up".

After this one-two punch of an introduction, I couldn't help but check out one of her albums, and Lost In Space was where I started. It's a hell of an album, a set of perfectly constructed songs written with a novelist's eye for detail, and built around a series of simple but effective melodies that carry the emotional weight of the songs. Mann's voice is wry and intelligent, and can run the gamut from heartbroken to hopeful.

My favourite of Mann's albums, however, is The Forgotten Arm, which I was going to write about at the time I listened to it on this run (a couple of months back, I reckon) but wasn't able to, so we'll talk about it here. The Forgotten Arm is every bit as brilliant as Lost In Space, with the added layer of a story that runs through the album, telling the tale of two star-crossed lovers dealing with addiction and heartbreak.

Mann isn't well known either side of the pond beyond the Magnolia soundtrack, which was over ten years ago now. She's well-connected with the LA comedy scene and has been putting out albums regularly (including a Christmas record of both original songs and classics that's festive without getting treacly) but deserves a much wider audience. I suggest checking out her song "Little Bombs" here - it's one of my favourites and a great introduction to her work.

Rediscovered Gem

"Soul Of A Man" by Beck