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Posts Tagged ‘m ward’

Inspired by the perverse choices in the Observer’s top 50 albums of the decade (Franz Ferdinand, Jamie T or Gorrillaz, anyone), I thought I’d have a scratch around my CD collection and see whether I could come up with a more refined and credible alternative. The only consideration for the list was playability, so while Grizzly Bear’s Veckatimest is a decent, technically accomplished album, I would struggle to muster the enthusiasm to listen to it all in one sitting and therefore it won’t make the cut. I thought about eliminating any album that Pitchfork has awarded a score of 8 or more to, but realised that would leave me with few entries on the list; nothing against Pitchfork per se as it is still capable of uncovering good new music, but it’s unhealthy pre-occupation with the average-at-best Animal Collective is difficult to tolerate. I have attached some video links to songs by each artist, although not necessarily from the album in question. Honourable mentions for those not on the list include: The Decemberists, Andrew Bird, The Black Keys, Cat Power, Bon Iver, Arctic Monkeys, At The Drive In, Arcade Fire, Flight of the Conchords, Wilco, Grandaddy, The Hold Steady, Jeffrey Lewis, Sufjan Stevens, Tom Waits, Vampire Weekend, The Strokes, Rachel Unthank, Feist and Rik Waller (ok, not really). 

10. Lil Wayne – Tha Carter III

On the basis of name-checking former WWF wrestler “Macho Man” Randy Savage in the Jay-Z aided Mr Carter, and seamless rhyming the words “yeast infection” and “geese erection” in Dr Carter, Lil Wayne’s ludicrous, multi –award winning Tha Carter III already deserves a place on this list. However, after a few listens, it is clear that this latest product of Lil Wayne’s surreal imagination is a beast of an album in its own right, a kind-of X-rated Alice in Wonderland where Cheshire cats and Mad Hatters are replaced by guns and bitches, and logic, order and reason devoid of place or purpose. Showy opener 3 Feat is an indicator of what is to follow as the self-proclaimed greatest rapper alive revels in his lyrically absurdity (“abracadabra I’m up like Viagra”) amidst a hypnotic mix of strings and irregular drum loops. As the tracks skip by, future sounds are mashed together with little regard for genre while the lyrical lunacy never lets up (“blind eyes could look at me and see the truth, wonder if Stevie do?”). The results are both laugh-out-loud funny and seriously accomplished. Album stand outs include A Milli and Dr Carter, both of which feature Lil Wayne’s trademark staccato phrasing, while gospel-driven thumper Let The Beat Build does exactly what it says on the tin. 

9. Doves – Lost Souls

Back in 2000 when Lost Souls was released, music resembled a CJD-riddled beast standing in line for the abattoir; the airwaves spewed out nu-metal, the worst musical genre of all time, and people still listened to The Charlatans and Shed Seven (or Shit Seven, as I liked to call them). Just as I was ready to throw in the towel and put on Cigarettes and Alcohol, I heard radio saviours Mark and Lard play The Man Who Told Everything from Doves’ first album Lost Souls, and I almost wept with relief as my faith in music was restored. After buying the album, I was – and still am – amazed at how fresh it sounded, from ethereal slow-burner Firesuite and the folky hypnotism of Sea Song to the rampant celebration of The Cedar Room. The album is also far looser and experimental than its successors, but hints at the layered sound that would become the band’s hallmark in successor albums Last Broadcast and Some Cities. Following the underdog success of The Seldom Seen Kid last year, many critics are tipping Doves as the next Elbow i.e. ready to attain greater mainstream success. Perhaps rather selfishly, I hope they remain favourites of the informed, rather than the masses.

8. John Smith – Map or Direction

I have a lot of things to thank my girlfriend for; a well-honed loathing for American teen dramas, amateur theatre productions and Radio 1, to name but a few. On the plus side, however, she did introduce me to her old school friend, John Smith. An innovative acoustic guitar player from the buzzing hood of Dartmoor, John marries the virtuoso finger-picking styles of the late John Martyn and the evergreen Bert Jansch with the raspy soul of Ray Lamontagne. Map or Direction is John’s second album and was recorded in weird and wonderful places in Hicksville America, including a forest, the side of a lake and a motel toilet. The locations enhance each song, with sublime opener Invisible Boy underscored by whistling trees and chirping cicadas, the result as beautiful as two kittens wrestling (platonically) on a blanket of morning snow. The draw of John’s music is the sheer range of his ability, from frantic banjo-led lament Watch Her Die (recorded under a Louisiana church), to the conversational, percussive folk of Axe Mountain. Even songs which should have a more mainstream feel, such as A long Way For A Woman, standout with inspired chord progressions and tight fret work. Unsigned by choice, you can buy his CD safe in the knowledge that not a penny goes to the Man.

7. The National – Alligator

I first listened to this record driving across the Hover Damn en route to Vegas, readying myself for a feverish night of irresponsible gambling, overpriced bourbon and crystal meth. From memory, we crashed at midnight, stone-cold sober although we lived the dream in a tenuously vicarious manner, after seeing Vince from Entourage bungling three top-heavy blondes into a taxi outside the Bellagio, and some guy who may or may not have been Kanye West leading a ho-train through the MGM Grand. Anyway, back to the music. At first, I refused to take the band seriously in view of their terrible name, however one full listen and I swiftly back-tracked on my original thoughts. Key to the band’s appeal is the hang-dog baritone of vocalist Matt Berninger, a man with a voice so deep, he makes the late Barry White sound like a ruddy-faced pre-pubescent. While Berninger’s monotone but emotional delivery is a constant, the music is a lush feast of varying styles, with preppy indie-rock (Lit Up) rubbing shoulders with understated acoustic (Daughters of the Soho Riots), all exquisitely produced and arranged. The big surprise of the album is the raucous closer and stand-out, Mr November, driven by furious off-beat drumming and gorgeous scaling guitars, while Berninger finally cuts loose with his vocals, proclaiming in desperation to be “the great white hope” who “used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders”. It’s at once affecting and uplifting, and the sound of a band at the top of their game.

6. M Ward – Post-War

Finger-picking solo artist and member of the latest supergroup, Monsters of Folk, M Ward has spent the past decade honing his languid country sound to the point of legal patent. Listening to Monsters of Folks eponymous album, for example, it doesn’t take much more than a few seconds to identify M Ward creations such as Baby Boomer and Slow Down Jo, which feature his trademark top-string shuffles and bluesy chord changes. For his fifth studio album, Post-War, M Ward decided to broaden his sound by using a full-time backing band, and inviting cameos from alt-country stalwarts Jim James and Neko Case. The resultant record is tighter and more musically diverse than its predecessors, but no less celebratory. Opener Poison Cup is classic M Ward, a gorgeous slow-burning love song showcasing his cracked vocals amidst swirling strings, while later offerings such as Chinese Translation and the beautifully lazy Rollercoaster prove that easy-listening doesn’t necessarily mean Radio 2-friendly cack. However, the most fun is to be had in the up-tempo band numbers, such as To Go Home, a thumping celebration of life and love’s limitations with M Ward promising “to be true to you forever, or until I go home”, and the almost childish joy of Magic Trick, a short, throw-away ditty about a woman who disappears. Arguably, The Transfiguration of Vincent is a finer technical album, but Post-War shades it for sheer optimism and energy.

To be continued…

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