65 - 56
Print
Email
Share
65
Krallice
Years Past Matter
Last year, Krallice released Diotima, a nearly 70-minute opus that demanded repeated listens and intense time investment. For an album that dense, most bands would let such a release settle in for at least two years. But Krallice doesn’t seem to be interested in following such conventional thinking, because a little more than a year later, they gave us Years Past Matter, a slightly shorter album, but just as dense and brutal. The 16-minute closer “Iiiiiiiiiiii” (not to be confused with “Iiiiiiiii) comes on so fast and ferocious that for Krallice beginners, it will likely overwhelm. So, what’s to keep people coming back? Aside from the incredible musicianship (most notably drummer Lev Weinstein), it comes down to the simple joy of discovery within each of the ten minute-plus tracks. Like a complex video game, or a difficult section of a challenging novel, Years Past Matter is an antidote for the Twitterverse. Buck up, dig in, concentrate, and be rewarded. 
Sean McCarthy
64
Ty Segall
Twins
In an age when constant communication has become the norm, Ty Segall has risen to the challenge. His consistent recorded output might have some onlookers assuming that the San Francisco-based garage rocker has a desperate need for attention and/or to stay relevant. Yet the truth is, Segall’s seemingly bottomless pit of recorded material is located in a place indistinguishable to the casual onlooker. Segall doesn’t strive for greatness; his is a celebrity that is attained simply by doing his job, and doing it well and often. Seriously, how do you stop Segall? Or better yet, will he ever hit his peak? Goodbye Bread, his last Drag City release maintained a songwriting maturity that hinted at said peak. Twins makes quick work of that notion, with tangibly well-crafted noisy-pop that dips its toes into numerous genres. I’d like to assume that Twins will be his best work, but I know I’ll soon be proved wrong. Joshua Kloke
63
Islands
A Sleep & A Forgetting
With A Sleep & A Forgetting, Islands’ Nick Thorburn added to the rich tradition of breakup albums in grand fashion. Thorburn’s fourth album as Islands was such an outstanding collection of confessional songwriting because it paid equal mind to both sides of that description. With wit, passion, and not a little humility, Thorburn chronicled the fallout of his divorce and all the feelings such an event entails. And the music was ace, a sharply-produced mix of indie-pop styles with an intimate, small-club vibe. In showing that emotional turmoil and memorable choruses are not mutually exclusive, Thorburn put himself in the ranks of forbearers such as Morrissey and Lloyd Cole. John Bergstrom
62
Debo Band
Debo Band
This 11-member collective from Boston could probably just get away with performing Ethiopian art music with a slight update. After all, legends like Mulatu Astatke and Mahmoud Ahmed have already blazed a trail that many American bands are happy to follow. However, Debo Band is not content to follow anyone else’s path, plunging happily into the wilderness without a backward glance. Over the course of an hour, they turn Ethiopian signifiers (Bruck Tesfaye’s old-school vocals, a lovely horn section led by Danny Makonnen’s saxophone) into tense rock puzzlers (“Habesha”), big band jazz numbers (“Tenesh Kelbe Lay”), droney excursions (“Ambassel”), and goofy-footed heartbreaking pop (“DC Flower”). They’ve got accordions, they’ve got electric violins, they’ve got sousaphones… and they know how to use them. “Ney Ney Weleba” is an absolute steamroller, with big heavy hooks, a stunner of a Brendon Wood guitar solo, and a free jazz raveup that brings some real heat into the discourse. Matt Cibula
61
Alt-J
An Awesome Wave
Alt-J have the best record of 2012, one of the most praised records of the year, even if they never quite meant for things to happen this way. With the Mercury Prize already in hand for the UK’s best record, the foursome who first met at Leeds University, crafted an album full of hooks that were equal parts unsettling and unstoppable. It was a pop record, to be sure, but an intensely modern one, intentionally angular and unexpectedly warm. Even its most approachable single, “Breezeblocks” featured signature lines about cannibalism and a video depicting the murder and drowning of a lovely young woman, held down with concrete weights, or, as the band explained, “breezeblocks”, British slang for these construction materials turned murder weapon. They were comfortable being approachable and weird in the same moment. Drawing comparisons to Radiohead, perhaps a reflection of just how difficult their sound was to place and categorize, Alt-J embraced being a band that everyone was bound to hear about in 2012 even if they never intended to be so self-consciously popular. Geoff Nelson
60
The Gaslight Anthem
Handwritten
With Handwritten, Brian Fallon and company have produced a document chronicling the diffidence that comes with reaching adulthood, but not feeling all that grown up. Such self-doubt naturally leads one on a nostalgic, maybe even masochistic, trip through the memories of youth, and that dichotomy of the bliss and the pain is depicted in a most visceral sense throughout the record. The punk ferocity and soulful passion, always what’s set the New Jersey quartet apart from the pack, is again put to good use facilitating the emotional ambivalence. What strengthens the record is the diversity of scenarios in the songs, each connecting on a deeply personal, yet simultaneously universal, manner. The solace afforded by favorite albums in “45”, the gender-swapping break-up of “Here Comes My Man”, the idealistic vow in the title track, the inability to move beyond the ruins of a crumbled relationship in “Mulholland Drive” and the acoustic paean to a former love who doesn’t seem all that former in closer “National Anthem” are all case studies in struggling to find your place when you’re unable to let go of the past. Cole Waterman
59
Redd Kross
Researching the Blues
When you start a band before you can drive a car, as Jeff and Steve McDonald did with Redd Kross, you can get away with taking 15 (!) years off and still making one of your best albums in an already-rewarding discography before you turn 50. Such is the case with Researching the Blues, one of the year’s best, most unexpected surprises (even if the tunes were recorded a few years back and are only seeing the light of day now), and the first Redd Kross album since 1997’s Show World. The opening one-two-three punch of the title track, song-of-the-year contender “Stay Away From Downtown” and “Uglier” hit harder than offerings from most bands half Redd Kross’ age, and midtempo charmers like “Dracula’s Daughters”, “One of the Good Ones” and “Winter Blues” are power pop nonpareil, overflowing with effortless hooks accumulated over the past decade-plus. Hopefully there’s plenty more where Researching the Blues came from, and soon. Stephen Haag
58
Sleigh Bells
Reign of Terror
Reign of Terror sets itself off with “True Shred Guitar”, a buzzed-out get-psyched call, and more or less exactly what you’d expect after the first Sleigh Bells album, Treats, exploded in 2010. But while Terror does offer more of the same in the sense that if you loved “Tell ‘Em” and swooned over “Rill Rill”, then you have to hear “Demons” and re-swoon over “End of the Line”, the album also offers greater modulation for this still-young pop-noise band (they’re too catchy for “noise” to get first-billing). Instant classics like “Comeback Kid” and “Crush” combine the band’s signature loudness with cheerleader chants and Alexis Krauss’s dreamier-than-ever vocals, and the album even becomes downright languorous final third, hinting at a sense of loss and melancholy from principle songwriter Derek Miller. Treats was so concisely perfect it could have easily been a one-and-done wonder, like so much of the pop music it distorts. Reign of Terror makes the case that the Sleigh Bells formula itself may be more disortable and durable than we thought. Jesse Hassenger
57
Dirty Projectors
Swing Lo Magellan
Dirty Projectors just might be the most divisive band in contemporary indie music. Dave Longstreth’s love-it-or-hate-it singing voice undulates from a dulcet croon to a hysterical yelp, often in the course of a single bar of music. And he blends seemingly incongruous influences—‘90s R&B inflection, ‘70s rock arrangements, math-rock time signatures and West African guitars—with the reckless abandon of a musical mad scientist. Over the course of the past decade, Longstreth has channeled these multifaceted sonic proclivities into a series of increasingly accessible incarnations, all under the banner of Dirty Projectors, though the players and the palette of sounds have rotated and evolved throughout. Swing Lo Magellan marks the apex of this progression, embracing classic song form while still indulging Longstreth’s trademark eccentricity. The album retains the most captivating elements from 2009’s Bitte Orca, from the sublime female harmonies and rollicking guitar blasts of opener “Offspring Are Blank” to the languid acoustic balladry of the title track. And on songs like the infectious single “Gun Has No Trigger” and the delightfully haphazard “Unto Caesar”, Longstreth and his band display a looser and less calculated approach to their craft than we have seen up to this point. Robert Alford
56
Bruce Springsteen
Wrecking Ball
Fear sells and divisiveness reaps dividends. In a presidential election year that choked on bile about parasitism and entitlement, we withstood an onslaught of cues to view our neighbors with suspicion, to sleep with one eye open and one finger on the trigger. What gets lost in that ulcer-inducing mess is that most of us are just working hard, doing the best we can to get by. Wrecking Ball has its share of anger at “fat cats”, drainers, and exploiters (looking up instead of down the economic ladder for evil); in fact, it’s the angriest Springsteen record in years. More importantly, it’s also one of his most inclusive, with Springsteen reaching back to his populist roots, the ones he watered in Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie lyrics. It’s a simple message: we’re in this together and we should never forget the nose-to-the-grindstone ethos and simple charity that informs “We take care of our own”. That Springsteen needs to shout it at the heavens only shows just how much that message is needed. Andrew Gilstrap
