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5
The xx
Coexist
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ShareWhen xx dropped in 2009 it was universally loved. Jamie xx and company hit on a unique brand of stripped-down beats, noodling guitar, and navel-gazing lyricism that made many a critical best-of list. Three years have passed since then, and in the interim Jamie xx got busy with a plethora of projects that positioned him as one of the most innovative beatsmiths working today. There was no reason to believe he wouldn’t come back and blow the roof off the joint with Coexist. What he did instead was take the most mellow aspects of xx, slip them a Xanax, and record them trying to stay awake. The result is an album so lethargic that it makes “Crystallized”, their first single way back in 2009, feel like speed metal in comparison. Coexist was applauded by a majority of music critics, but even they were quick to point out its flaws, using words like “labored”, “fractured”, and “redundant”. The music is beyond stripped-down, basically bare walls that feel anemic and samey. The lyricism too lacks punch. Remember the chorus to “VCR” and how it made a mundane act like “Watch things on VCRs” almost revelatory? For all the allusions to tides and water on Coexist there is no similar pull, just song after song that, in the words of our own Arnold Pan, “keeps you waiting and waiting for something more to happen.” xx had us revved up and ready to go, Coexist left us idling for a long 37 minutes. 
Adam Finley
4
Band of Horses
Mirage Rock
The first song I ever heard by Band of Horses was their single “Is There a Ghost?”—a very simple arrangement with fairly repetitive lyrics but still endowed with enough passion that it evoked memories of early ‘90s Britpop, yet American, and with an oddly southern flavour. “No One’s Gonna Love You”, another single followed in the same spirit and sealed the deal for me. But they might have been a Band of One Trick Ponies—I wasn’t sure. And then I heard Infinite Arms, which, for me, became the best record of that year. Then came 2012’s Mirage Rock. I met it with enthusiasm, the first in the digital line to get myself a copy. I reasonably expected a further evolution down the same path they’d started. Instead, I heard surf-rock Beach Boys harmony of “a-woo"s. The melancholic guitars now more subdued, further back in the mix and more “southern” sounding than ever before. Ben Bridwell’s vocals take on a more light-hearted tone and there’s even a clap-along chorus. From the first bar of “Knock Knock”, I knew I didn’t want to answer the door. But bands need a little latitude to progress. What I found was Lynyrd Skynyrd, Neil Young, the Grateful Dead, and a playlist of a tailgate party. Even on the slightly more rocked-up “Feud”, I could picture the old, mullet-haired, classic-rock hordes of my small-town youth playing air-guitar with cans of Budweiser where their invisible picks should be. I’ll be the first to admit that the best part of Kentucky Fried Chicken is the skin—but that doesn’t mean you throw away all the meat. Darryl G. Wright
3
Sleigh Bells
Reign of Terror
When Sleigh Bells burst onto the scene in 2010 with their album Treats, their howling klaxon of sound coupled with bracingly refreshing pop hooks was something truly to behold. Who didn’t get carried away with such infectious gems as “Tell ‘Em”, “A/B Machines”, and, of course, “Rill Rill”? It turns out that the two-person band of Derek Edward Miller (guitar) and Alexis Krauss (vocals) was a bit of a one-trick pony. With Reign of Terror, Sleigh Bells turned in an album that, although given warm critical reviews in some quarters, failed to recapture the lightning in a bottle that was Treats. In fact, Reign of Terror is an album that is so underwhelming and loaded with songs that are not nearly as memorable as anything on Treats, that I will honestly admit that I’ve only bothered to listen to the album twice. The thing with Reign of Terror is that its lead track feels like poseuring, with its dialed-in crowd noise and chants –- as if the band was trying to make a case that they could hold their own in an arena tour along the likes of Red Hot Chili Peppers, a band that Sleigh Bells toured with earlier this year. While Treats was the sound of a band with nothing to prove, Reign of Terror is ultimately the sound of a band trying too hard to be relevant. A big, huge crushing disappointment all around. Zachary Houle
2
Ben Folds Five
The Sound of the Life of the Mind
Believe me when I say that I couldn’t have wished for anything more than this to be an excellent record. Ben Folds Five are a band for whom I will always have a soft spot. However, the cruel nature of disappointment means that you see it coming from a long way off, even more so when you’ve had 13 years to wait. The most underwhelming aspect of The Sound of the Life of the Mind isn’t that it sounds almost exactly like every solo record Ben Folds has put out in the intervening years since the band first split, nor is it that it sounds like a career-spanning collection of rattled off b-sides, a taster menu of the Ben Folds Five sound that didn’t quite make the final cut. No, the saddest part is that the album forces you to accept a glum reality: that for all the close harmony, fuzzy bass, and pop-eratic angst on display, Ben Folds Five have never been anything more than a one-trick pony. It’s like seeing an old friend for the first time in years that you now have nothing in common with, leaving you to ponder why only one of you has moved on from 1995, and causing you to re-evaluate why you ever liked them in the first place. You want to say, “It’s not you, it’s me,” but you know that would be a lie. Thomas Fenwick
1
Smashing Pumpkins
Oceania
I think we were all a little too hopeful about the creative wave that Smashing Pumpkins frontrunner Billy Corgan was on. Many of the free tracks produced as part of the Teargarden by Kaleidyscope project were pretty promising tunes, especially following the monotony that was Zeitgeist. The stage was primed for a Smashing Pumpkins comeback, ripe with a fabulous new album set to blow us out of the water in the same way they did all those years ago with Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. Alas, such a comeback never surfaced. Instead, what we got was a fairly watered down version of a band that stopped being the original Smashing Pumpkins all those years ago. And although Oceania is a fairly good record in its own right, it left many Pumpkins fans wanting for a nostalgia that, however unfairly warranted, is still nonetheless real. If bands like Radiohead can produce quality work within roughly the same amount of time, then it’s not wholly unrealistic to hope for the same caliber from a ‘90s prodigal child. Oceania is a slow disappointment—it impresses with the first few listens, but over time and with a peeling back of the shiny veneer, reveals a placid bunch of tunes too rife with their own sense of self-importance to emulate some of the genuine catharsis of their ‘90s counterparts. While not a wholly bad album, Oceania is the biggest disappointment of the year because it cements the fact that the band that could have ridden a high creative wave for more than a few decades is gone, replaced by something that is about half that—albeit, that’s still pretty good. Enio Chiola
