The inaugural Boston Calling music festival is set for May 25th and 26th. Taking place in Boston’s Government Center, the festival is hopefully the first of an annual tradition of bringing good music to the heart of beantown.

There’s a ton of notable bands descending on Boston for the two day fest, but these are the five I’m most excited to see.

The National:
The National is one of the most consistent acts in modern music. Twelve years since their eponymous 2001 debut album, the band still releases fantastic music, each album is arguably better than the last. How many other bands playing in their second decade can you say that about?

Trouble Will Find Me comes out on May 20th and I’m dying to hear the new tracks in the live setting. Watch any YouTube performance of “Graceless” and it’s clear that this will become a showstopper. Lead singer Matt Berninger screams the lyrics at the song’s climax, something last heard in the days of Alligator. The album’s other rocker, “Sea of Love,” sounded killer on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon and songs such as “Don’t Swallow The Cap” and “Humiliation” should be similarly promising.

The National may make delicate music but their live shows are always kinetic. Berninger is one of indie rock’s most entertaining frontmen. When he’s not singing in his instantly-recognizable baritone, he’s sipping wine, stumbling around stage, and making the occasional quip. The Dessner twins deliver intricate, yet anxious, guitar and the rhythm section is tight with Bryan Devendorf’s hypnotic and tom-heavy drumming and brother Scott Devendorf’s underappreciated bass.

Youth Lagoon:
Youth Lagoon is the stage name of 24-year-old musician Trevor Powers. His debut album, 2011’s The Year Of Hibernation is filled with delicate numbers that seem made for listening in dark and quiet rooms so it will be interesting to see if the band can conquer the festival setting.

Songs such as “Posters” and “17” start from the simple, almost primordial, existences and rise to soaring highs. At Boston Calling, I want the foreboding introductions to lead to cathartic releases of rumbling bass and body-moving guitar. It would be the ultimate in plant and payoff. Youth Lagoon’s recent release, Wondrous Bughouse, is a livelier affair and proves that the band can amp up the energy. Even so, I wonder if Youth Lagoon’s bedroom sounds will translate in the hot summer sun.

Of Monsters And Men:
For a brief time, it seemed as if nobody in the Western World could go more than a week without hearing the Icelandic band’s debut single “Little Talks” play on some soundsystem somewhere. The song is irresistibly catchy with shout-along “heys” and earworm horns and dominated the charts worldwide, turning the band into a festival staple in the process.

While I have only given their My Head Is An Animal a few listens, Of Monsters And Men really does seem to be an ideal festival band — their music is anthemic and cathartic, complete with the spiraling crescendos and trembling energy that make Arcade Fire so great. Like Arcade Fire, the band integrates an eclectic instrument selection and isn’t afraid to err towards bombastic. Ultimately, I’m excited to see if the band can live up to their positive press.

Portugal. The Man:
Portugal. The Man has worked relentlessly to get where they are. They put out an album a year between their independent debut in 2006 and their first Atlantic Records release in 2011. During that time they also maintained an exhausting touring schedule. While they are still largely unknown to the casual music fan, they are prime for a breakout now that they are working with producer Danger Mouse on this summer’s Evil Friends.
I’ve seen a ton of Portugal. The Man concerts in my day thanks to the band’s heavy touring history and affordable concert prices. Even so, I’m always impressed with their ability to rearrange their own songs so that they sound different each performance. Surprise covers, medleys of old numbers, and extended jams also create a unique concert experience. With a large catalogue, it will be interesting to see what Portugal. The Man sneaks in their carefully curated setlist.

The Shins:
This might be embarrassing for a writer on a hip music website to admit, but I’ve never really listened to The Shins. Yes, “Caring Is Creepy” is a great song but I mostly know frontman James Mercer from his days with Broken Bells. ‘What, haven’t you even seen Garden State you ask?’ but I pretend I didn’t hear and stare at the ceiling [Ed. note: You're really not missing all that much]. Really interesting things happen up there, I swear. With that out of the way, I want to embrace Boston Calling as an opportunity to check out these indie giants in earnest. Their set will undoubtedly be a nice breezy break during the festival’s first day.

The post Five Bands We’re Excited For At Boston Calling Fest appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The Playlist is a weekly column where staff writers and occasional guest musicians will have the opportunity to put together a Spotify playlist of songs which they’ve been listening to recently.

There are times when we’ve heard one power chord or one gently strummed acoustic ballad too many, and we feel the need to shed the confines of the guitar and look toward more unconventional instrumentation.  In that spirit, some of the staff here at Beats Per Minute have chosen songs for The Playlist this week which feature no guitars in any capacity.  You’ll find the mournful organs of Casiotone for the Painfully Alone and Daniel Johnston, as well as the electronic glitches of Radiohead–we’re throwing in some Animal Collective and They Might Be Giants because, yeah, they’re amazing tracks as well, and there’s nary a guitar in sight.  Listen to the No Guitars Go Spotify playlist above and read why we chose these particular tracks below.

01. Casiotone for the Painfully Alone – “Roberta C”

“The worlds bummeriest bummer jam of all time features nothing more than Owen Ashworth’s scratchy, conversational baritone, a cheap drum machine, and a synth organ sound. CFTPA’s brilliance was always in doing a lot with a little. This is the electronic music equivalent of a dude sitting around with an acoustic guitar whispering lines about suicide.” ~Colin Joyce

02. Radiohead – “Idioteque”

“Something from Kid A was bound to show up on a no-guitars mix and so we have “Idioteque,” one of the most recognizable tracks from that record.  At the time of its release, Radiohead fans were appalled and fascinated in equal measure.  Where had their beloved OK Computer Radiohead gone and where were the guitars?  With an answer as definitive as it was resounding, the band showed their fans that guitars were not a prerequisite for music that would come to be viewed as quintessentially Radiohead.” ~Joshua Pickard

03. Cat Power – “Colors and the Kids”

“Chan Marshal and a piano.  That’s all there is to “Colors and the Kids” from her much lauded Moon Pix album.  You would think that a 6+ minute track of just Marshall and a beautifully played piano would lose its ability to hold your attention in about half that time but there is a sadness–a mournful acceptance–that drives this track toward some unforeseen destination.  Marshall herself doesn’t seem to know where she’s heading either.  So this mutual sense of discovery allows us an unfettered glimpse of the person behind the moniker.  And far from trying to keep us at a distance, she beckons us onward, hoping that we’ll keep her company for just a little while longer. Stunning.” ~Joshua Pickard

04. Animal Collective – “Daily Routine”

“After guitarist Deakin decided to take time off from the group, Animal Collective would create an a sample-heavy electronic psychedelia album in Merriweather Post Pavilion. This cut off the album fronted by Panda Bear may be the most under-appreciated on it. Perhaps that’s because synth loop is a bit jarring to some but I love it. I dare you to set it on your alarm clock to wake you up and get you started on your daily routine.” ~Evan Kaloudis

05. Black Moth Super Rainbow – “Drippy Eye”

“Combining a love for 60′s psych-pop and an affinity for the gossamer harmonies of bands like The Beach Boys and Van Dyke Parks, Black Moth Super Rainbow gained notoriety with the release of their Dandelion Gum record.  Weaving together technicolor landscapes and psychedelic instrumentation, the band found that perfect balance on “Drippy Eye,” a song so indebted to its psych influences that it could have passed for one of the songs from which is so thoroughly and superbly borrowed.  Listen and be swept away on the rising melody and deceptively simple pop construction.” ~Joshua Pickard

06. Beirut – “Nantes”

“Greatly inspired by the rhythms and traditional composition of Balkan music, Zach Condon incorporates all of these themes, and his own sense of the music (and no guitars obviously), into “Nantes,” a stand-out track from his 2007 record The Flying Club Cup.  Tribal percussion, deeply reverberating brass, and Condon’s own quivering vocals display an impressive ability to condense his influences into something unique and devoid of mimicry.” ~Joshua Pickard

07. Daniel Johnston – “Walking the Cow”

“When I hear the name “Daniel Johnston,” I imagine a 20-something-year-old, wistful and bug-eyed, feverishly hammering at six strings for faceless crowds and home tape recorders. But for me, the chord organ is a magic prism for Johnston’s manic brilliance. While his hands desperately stammer away on “Walking the Cow”, his voice collapses under the weight of his uncertainty. Broken and beautiful, this song makes the day just a little easier to get through.” ~Malcolm Martin

08. Kraftwerk – “The Robots”

“The forefathers of all things electronic, German innovators Kraftwerk were well into their career by the time they released The Man Machine and has fully embraced the mechanized rhythms and structures that they would still be known for to this day.  ”Robots,” with its mechanical voice and sputtering beats seems about as good an entry point into the record as you’re likely to find–and it’s a good introduction to the band as a whole.  Seeming to be pulled from some chromatic dystopian future, “Robots” showed Kraftwerk at their most accesdible but still willing to push themselves into new sonic territories.” ~Joshua Pickard

09. They Might Be Giants – “The Day”

“Marvin Gaye ties the knot with Phil Ochs and world peace is achieved in this multi-layered and multi-faceted accordion ballad. Is it about the absurdity of the hippie movement’s dream? Or is it a wacky story that we’re not meant to read into? They Might Be Giants aren’t telling.” ~Harrison Suits Baer

10. The Cure – “The Funeral Party”

“Robert Smith and Co. may not be the first band you think of when discussing bands without guitars but they often as not dropped the atmospheric strums and clanging chords of their guitars to go solely synthtastic.  And their efforts were never so amazing and honestly emotional as on Faith-cut “The Funeral Party.”  Working within the template that they themselves helped to establish, the band swirled waves of synths against the drive of drummer Lol Tolhurst rhythms, with Smith’s vocals seeming to straddle the surging tide as effortlessly as on anything that we’d heard from them before.  It’s absolutely affecting while being  completely conscious of its own importance.  So, yeah…it’s classic Cure.” ~Joshua Pickard

If you enjoy any of these tracks, please support the artists by purchasing their respective albums. 

The post The Playlist: No Guitars Go appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The Playlist is a weekly column where staff writers and occasional guest musicians will have the opportunity to put together a Spotify playlist of songs which they’ve been listening to recently.

01. Daft Punk – “Get Lucky” (feat. Pharrell)

Daft Punk are back with their first single in three years, and they’ve brought Pharell and Nile Rodgers along for the ride. Using no samples and nothing more technical than the vocoder on the bridge, “Get Lucky” is an infectious disco-funk anthem and will certainly be taking over our Summer playlists. SOTY anyone? Just listen below. ~Evan Kaloudis

02. Fred Neil – “The Dolphins”

With an expansive soundtrack spread out munificently over its six seasons, The Sopranos was a gold mine for music, new and old. I binged on this show a few months back, and Fred Neil was probably my favourite discovery. “The Dolphins” plays over a mobster tripping on heroin on the outskirts of a carnival. While the serene sadness of the visuals and the audio sound like they were made for each other (see here), the song is just as beautiful on its own. ~Brendan Frank

03. Vhol – “The Wall”

Metal super group Vhol (whose members are all metal veterans of related bands) recently released their debut album on Profound Lore Records, and it is loud, mesmerizing, and appropriately bone rattling. On lead track “The Wall,” you can practically hear the band tearing apart the studio through sheer force of will—the mammoth guitar riffs and jackhammer percussion don’t hurt either. The entire album maintains this level of dynamic interplay and labyrinthine tonality, and it will absolutely shake the skin from your bones. ~Joshua Pickard

04. Charli XCX – “You (Ha Ha Ha)”

Charli XCX (aka Charlotte Aitchison) makes hip-shattering, electronic bubblegum-pop. And I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. Her songs, despite their superficial pop gaudiness, hide subtle variations on the pop templates that radio riders have been using for years. She subverts pop expectations while sounding as though she could chew through the latest pop starlet without thinking twice about it. “You (Ha Ha Ha)” encapsulates all the best aspects of her seditious pop stylings. Once you hear it, it’s difficult to think about anything else. Listen but listen with caution. Go ahead, press play…I dare you. ~Joshua Pickard

05. War – “Brodermordet”

While the Copenhagen duo is now a quartet for their forthcoming Sacred Bones-released debut as Vår, this early single features  longtime friends Elias Bender Rønnenfelt (of Iceage) and Loke Rahbek (of Sexdrome). “Brodermordet” (which translates to “fratricide”) buries Rønnenfelt’s mumble amidst blown out synth pop. This is bleary industrial techno as heard through club walls after a long night out, translated by drug induced insomnia into something that straddles the thin line between fantasy and terror. ~Colin Joyce

06. A Hawk and A Hacksaw – “Ivan and Marichka/The Sorcerer”

I’ve been a fan of A Hawk and A Hacksaw ever since my formative Elephant 6 obsession. And when I heard that AHAAH co-founder Jeremy Barnes was associated with and had played on various E6 records, I didn’t need any more incentive to dive into the band’s discography. The band’s latest album You Have Already Gone to the Other World was inspired by filmmaker Sergei Parajanov’s 1965 film Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. And “Ivan and Marichka/The Sorcerer” draws heavily upon Myroslav Skoryk’s original score for the film but updates the traditional European leanings with modern-day production and even manages to sneak in a furious electronic drum freakout toward the end. I guess I never really grew out of that initial E6 obsession. And artists like A Hawk and A Hacksaw are probably a big part of why I didn’t. ~Joshua Pickard

07. CHVRCHES – “Recover”

People sometimes forget how essential a good melody is to any given song and how difficult it can be to make that melody integral to the song. Some musicians think that a sickly sweet synth line or a repeated electronic squiggle can be used in place of well crafted melody but that’s only so much window dressing to cover weak songwriting. Scottish electro-pop group CHVRCHES seem to understand this far better than most of their electronically-minded peers. On their song “Recover,” which is the title track from their recent EP, the group put together one of the stickiest, most memorable melodies I’ve heard all year. It ranks up there with Robyn’s recent output in terms of pure pop satisfaction. ~Joshua Pickard

08. Alva Noto + Ryuichi Sakamoto – “mur”

Ryuichi Sakamoto, the keyboardist of Yellow Magic Orchestra and Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence Soundtrack fame, has built something of a late career renaissance as a purveyor of beautifully sparse piano songs. His solo work is certainly compelling in its own right, but his work in collaboration is stunning, if only for comparing the ways that each of his partners treats his piano signal. Christian Fennesz casts a slight veil around the whole thing, shrouding Sakamoto’s work in brief swells of reverb, his touch is light and largely allows the piano to speak for itself. Sakamoto’s work with famed German electro-aesthete Alva Noto is often more heavy handed, but on “mur” he takes a similarly slight route, allowing Sakamoto’s keyboard work to soar above his bedrock of percussive blips and airy waves of noise. As I bury myself in a stack of final papers due as the semester draws to a close, I need fuzzy, indistinct tunes like “mur” to keep me company. ~Colin Joyce

09. Daughn Gibson – “The Sound of Law”

Daughn Gibson’s 2012 solo debut All Hell combined samples of country music with Gibson’s studied vocal crooning and delivered one of the most underrated albums of the year (and one that definitely got lost in the shuffle of year-end lists). He recently signed to Sub Pop Records and will release Me Moan, his first record for the veteran indie label, in June. “The Sound of Law,” the lead-off track from his new record, immediately ups the ante in terms of back roads workmanship, with tremulous guitars and snare rolls creating a vast deserted highway of inescapable isolation. His new record can’t get here soon enough. ~Joshua Pickard

10. Great Thunder – “Kees”

The Breeders-era rock crunch of Katie Crutchfield’s main band Waxahatchee has given way to something more relaxed—something more loosely knit together. This side-project, under the moniker Great Thunder, is also the home to Swearin’s Keith Spencer, and the two have formed an inimitable bond over mid-90’s alt-rock. They have just quietly released an EP of new material called Strange Kicks, and it is as deliciously and unapologetically pop/rock-ish as you might imagine. “Kees” shows Crutchfield and Spencer blowing through their influences at a marathon pace, tossing off rows of hummable guitar licks and tongue-curling melodies. You can hear the full EP over at their Bandcamp page. ~Joshua Pickard

If you enjoy any of these tracks, please support the artists.

The post The Playlist: April 26th, 2013 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The Playlist is a weekly column where staff writers and occasional guest musicians will have the opportunity to put together a Spotify playlist of songs which they’ve been listening to recently.

*”The Things That Went Wrong” by The Radio Dept is not currently available on Spotify.  A video created by staff member Autumn Andel has been substituted.

01. The Radio Dept. – “The Things That Went Wrong”

“My favourite band is The Radio Dept. and in 2011, I saw them three times in concert – Portland, Denmark, Sasquatch – all within a few months. They were supposed to return to Portland that November but the tour was cancelled. Then I tried to find my way to South America to see them last spring but couldn’t make it happen. Recently, I’ve learned that they are touring Asia this month and playing in Istanbul in June – information that came too late… the consequence of a band that has no interest in the Internet. So once again, I am mourning over the fact that I won’t be able to see them again.” ~Autumn Andel

02. Brown Bird – “Nine Eyes”

“”Nine Eyes”, the first single off Brown Bird’s new album Fits of Reason (April 2, Supply and Demand) encapsulates the duo’s transition from “folk artists” to kick-ass music makers. With a potent Middle Eastern feel, the band’s new direction is razor-like: cutting, precise; perhaps too sharp for some, but ultimately exhilarating.” ~Brian A. Hodge

03. Fishboy – “Minus Two”

“Sometimes the simplest songs are the ones that stay with you the longest.  I came across Denton, TX’s-own ecstatically pop Fishboy and fell hard.  I was just getting into the Elephant 6 Collective and fuzzy, catchy pop was my go-to drug of choice.  And “Minus Two” was one of the most insanely memorable songs that I’d heard in a very long time.  For quite some time, I wanted to have written this song.  Not too late, I guess.  Just let me dig out my Way-Back Machine.” ~Joshua Pickard

04. L-Vis 1990 – “Ballad 4D”

“I have become totally obsessed with this track: it sounds like typical Night Slugs fare until the minute-mark when the song plunges to ridiculous depths, somehow bringing forth a bass tone that sounds genuinely like a subaquatic transmission. I mean, the whole package is great, but the self-styled ‘submarine vibes’…damn. Hammering the replay on this one.” ~Gabriel Szatan

05. Apple Miner Colony – “The Heat Haunted Fever”

“There’s something to be said for getting exactly what you want and expect from a song. From the first time I heard “The Heat Haunted Fever,” I knew exactly what I wanted, and Apple Miner Colony were more than happy to oblige me.  The slightly folksy, slightly indie rock-ish tune just builds and builds until you know just when to expect the inevitable cathartic crescendo.  And when  it does come, it washes everything away–scrubbing you raw.  There’s something almost baptismal about the song–in the way it seems to wash you clean and leave you feeling slightly out of breath but happy to be breathing.” ~Joshua Pickard

06. Women – “Shaking Hand”

“This is the song that helped me understand that beautifully meticulous guitar work can be lifted to importance in the modern sense. “Shaking Hand” is a euphoric moment in the short life of a band that never quite got its full due.” ~Andrew Halverson

07. Jackson C. Frank – “Blues Run the Game”

“Beloved by folk historians and adored by filmmakers like Wes Anderson, Jackson C. Frank is the kind of ar artists that you kick yourself for never having heard of him…until you do.  His honey-coated vocals subtly remind you of Nick Drake but his rhythms and acoustic precision feel closer in tone to Paul Simon oddly enough.  ”Blues Run the Game” is the consummate time capsule of mid-60′s minimalist pop folk perfection.” ~Joshua Pickard

08. Sean Nicolas Savage – “Common Ground”

“Sometimes, it takes a while for a song to “click” with you. This song didn’t “click” with me until one day I was driving on the New Jersey Turnpike, and it was overcast and my gas tank was just about empty and I’d just been dumped by a guy I’d been seeing and I tried to ash my cigarette out the window but I think the flaming ashes just flew into the back seat. Oh well. Thanks for understanding, Sean.” ~Josh Becker

09. Milk Music – “Illegal and Free”

“The living ghosts of the late ’80s converge on Olympia, Wa for 11 minutes of off the rails, Coxen-wailed, desert rock. Oh and guitarist Charles Waring says it’s the “best fucking record ever made.”" ~Colin Joyce

10. Ween – “She Wanted To Leave”

“Ween are…Ween.  If you’re a fan, you know why. If not, I’m not sure I could successfully articulate why you should love them, but you should.  Beneath the dick jokes and superficial assholery, Dean and Gene Ween are kickass musicians with a vicious dark humor.  But on The Mollusk (probably their best record to date), they toned it down and wrote a sea shanty of sorts about the wandering ways of a woman who has been loved and cared for her whole life.  And she has turned her back on this man who loved her above everything else, and only at his lowest does he finally understand.  And his last statement of “I’m not the man I used to be/Now, I’m one of them” is as honest a confession as you’re likely to ever hear.” ~Joshua Pickard

If you enjoy any of these tracks, please support the artists by purchasing their respective albums. 

The post The Playlist: April 5th, 2013 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The Playlist is a weekly column where staff writers and occasional guest musicians will have the opportunity to put together a Spotify playlist of songs which they’ve been listening to recently.

To commemorate David Bowie’s latest release The Next Day–his 24th studio album–the staff at Beats Per Minute have chosen an all-Bowie tracklist for The Playlist this week.  Read about and listen to our choices below.

01. “The Man Who Sold the World” (from The Man Who Sold the World, 1970)

“I came to Bowie relatively late in my musical education, and this was one of the first tracks that I really gravitated towards.  Forget the Nirvana cover–though it retrospect it probably did raise awareness of Bowie during the grunge years.  But that odd echo effect on his voice is so otherworldly, and the sense of desperation and violent intent is so palpable that the song still stands as one of my all-time favorite Bowie tracks.” ~Joshua Pickard

02. “We are the Dead” (from Diamond Dogs, 1974)

“Not sure why but I am drawn to music inspired by and is a reinterpretation of other art forms. Based on Orwell’s dystopian novel, 1984, Bowie best conveys the essence of the modern tragedy with this lyrically-dense track from Diamond Dogs.” ~Autumn Andel

03. “(You Will ) Set The World On Fire” (from The Next Day, 2013)

“My image of Bowie, even when he was experimenting, is that of a decidedly British pop-star. He has that British sound, so I love how un-British this opening riff is; it’s heavy and brutal.” ~Daniel Griffiths

04. “Subterraneans” (from Low, 1977)

“I got Low as a birthday present in high school. While I didn’t “get” most of it, this song, the album’s haunting closing track, stuck with me. In addition to being one of Bowie’s finest cuts, it also served as my gateway drug to Brian Eno.” ~Harrison Suits Baer

05. “Queen Bitch” (Hunky Dory, 1971)

“Remember when Bowie made the catchiest album of his career and then pretended to be Lou Reed and sang some gibberish about bibbity boppity hats? Never was Mr. Bowie more endearing, except perhaps in his turn as Nikola Tesla in The Prestige.” ~Colin Joyce

06. “Heroes” (from Heroes, 1977)

“”Heroes” is Bowie at his most glorious. Don’t argue. Amidst the bizarre ventures of the Berlin Trilogy, Bowie and Eno birthed the perfect pop track. Somehow, it wasn’t a true hit upon release. The story since is painfully obvious – Hell, supposedly, it’s his most covered song. It’s easy to see why. There’s plenty of debate as to when Bowie was at his best as ‘speaker for the culture’, but for my money, it’s right here. It doesn’t matter how many years pass. If a kid coming of age hears this song, he will understand it. He will love it. As the years start to heap on, rather than pass with ease, a growing mind can’t help but burst with life at the joyous desperation in Bowie’s chant. He, and his hypothetical lover, want to grasp life and tear it in the direction they’re going - fuck what reality demands. Because we can be heroes, if not for one day, no matter how jaded any of us become, we can believe it while the song is playing. That is a priceless thing. If you can’t just feel the explosion (I, I WILL BE KING! AND YOU, YOU WILL WILL BE QUEEN!), well, it’s time to figure out what the hell is wrong with you, buddy.” ~Chase McMullen

07. “Five Years” (from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, 1972) 

“Holding the distinction of being the first Bowie album that I ever bought, Ziggy Stardust has carved out a very special place in my heart, and the same could be said for its’ opening track “Five Years.” Having been covered by everyone from Arcade Fire to The Old 97′s, this track perfectly encapsulates the primal urges and cathartic necessity of Bowie’s music which seemed to always be on the verge of spilling out of the speakers onto your living room floor.” ~Joshua Pickard

08. “African Night Flight” (from Lodger, 1979)

“Lodger, more or less unfairly, is often seen as the (no pun intended) low point in the ‘Berlin Trilogy’ collaboration between Bowie and Brian Eno. To be fair, there’s some truth in saying it’s their most scattered effort, but amidst the frolicking debris are some of the years-spanning project’s most deliciously “Eno” moments, such as the bizarre, Africana tinged track found here. Over the nearly playful drums and aggressive guitar, Bowie sounds quite nearly panicked, and if you can’t picture a cocaine fueled romp over questionably safe skies in an unknown continent, I’ll be damned. The Talking Heads have to be jealous of this one.” ~Chase McMullen

09. “Rock n’ Roll With Me” (from Diamond Dogs, 1974)

“I love the simplicity and sincerity in the sentiment of this song and it has one of the best choruses Bowie ever managed. It’s gotta be one of the more straightforward glam ballads recorded, but all the pieces are so perfectly placed–the drum fill that opens the track, the crash cymbal into the first chorus, the octave-up on the second verse, the syncopated guitar solo–and that last chorus is such a heart stopper.” ~Will Ryan

10. “Let’s Spend the Night Together” (from Aladdin Sane, 1973)

“It may be sacrilegious to say so, but I prefer this version to the original. The chaotic arrangement is a great showcase for Bowie’s impeccable piano chops, coming across like a more unhinged Elton John on the keys.” ~Harrison Suits Baer

11. “Always Crashing in the Same Car” (from Low, 1977)

“I like how this song has it’s mind set towards two directions; early 70′s era guitar-driven Bowie, and a more ethereal synth Bowie and it never seems to set both feet in either camp. Even the vocals move between the two.” ~Daniel Griffiths

“So much of Bowie’s music is, shamelessly, unabashedly drug-fueled. It goes without saying. It both certainly took years of creativity from him in the long run, and skyrocketed the completely, unnaturally perfect, fulfilled nature of his best artistic wanderings. It bleeds through, oh so obviously, in near all his 70′s material. “Always Crashing in the Same Car”, is an intriguing outlier. Recorded in the USA during a supposedly “sober” period in his career, it doesn’t much matter if he was, or if he wasn’t. Because what shines through here is his desire to be. Whereas his usual swagger revels in the debauchery he was famous for, here we can hear the pain, the desperate need for a “better” self, however Bowie could define such a thing. The dark title says it all – he doesn’t succeed, and worse, he already knows it. It sure makes for a great, painful pop tune.” ~Chase McMullen

12. “Space Oddity” (from Space Oddity, 1969)

“This track always seemed to place Bowie on some other world, musically and physically.  He was willing to go to the places where other musicians could not and would not go.  He was that one person who never backed down but crossed over into the darkness willingly.  He never hesitated to light a candle for us in that darkness, extend his hand, and ask us to trust him.   And I’ll be damned if we didn’t follow along with him every time.  It’s probably a good thing too–I’m not sure I can imagine a world where David Bowie wasn’t David Bowie.” ~Joshua Pickard

*Bonus Track: Iggy Pop – “Nightclubbing” (from The Idiot, 1977)

“If you ask me, no collection of Bowie tunes is complete without a drop by from The Idiot. The story goes like this, for some time following the implosion of The Stooges, Iggy Pop was far from the rock idol he’s remembered for, and always should have been. Lost in depression and rampant drug addiction, it’d take an army to get material out his ailing soul. Or, as it turned out, David Bowie. As to exactly how positive an influence Bowie was, well…that’s debatable. Rumors still circle suggesting he smuggled cocaine in to Pop at the treatment center he’d holed up in. Who knows, truthfully, all that matters in retrospect is that Bowie got him back to where he truly needed to be – making music.

As Pop regained his strength, his recordings would grow to sound all the more himself, but the first record to spawn from his return reeks of Bowie’s paw prints. In fact, the album is oft considered the true beginning of Bowie’s Berlin Trilogy, the man himself later admitting Pop had been a “guinea pig” for his sound. All the luck to Pop, as it blossomed into one of his finest records. “Nightclubbing”, perhaps in particular, spoke of Bowie’s influence, Pop describing it as the product of how it felt “hanging” with Bowie. Still, the sarcastic, faux narcissistic, doomed vibe of the slow-trodding krautrock like track fit Pop’s own mentality at the time perfectly, a truly consummate meeting of the minds.” ~Chase McMullen

If you enjoy any of these tracks, please support the artist by purchasing any of his albums. 

The post The Playlist: March 29th, 2013 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The Playlist is a weekly column where staff writers and occasional guest musicians will have the opportunity to put together a Spotify playlist of songs which they’ve been listening to recently.

* “Stare and Fallin’” from Zacarocha and “The World is Full of Angry Young Men” by XTC are unavailable on Spotify.  Soundcloud and YouTube links have been substituted.

01. Sigur Rós – “Sæglópur”

“Sometimes you just want to hear something without worrying about what it means and Sigur Ros are usually perfect for that. Last years Valtari was brilliant but nothing can really compare to Takk and ‘Saeglopur’ is one of the best from that album.” ~Leslie Fernandez

02. Danger Mouse & Sparklehorse (feat. The Flaming Lips) – “Revenge”

“Dark Night of the Soul, the collaboration between Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse and the final recorded album Mark Linkous left behind for us, has never really blended in for me with the rest of the Sparklehorse catalog. As much as I’ve wanted to warm up to it, I never have. But this song is absolutely incredible and remains a propped open gateway to the other songs on the album. So long as I keep coming back to this one track, Dark Night of the Soul will keep getting chance after chance to click. I’m hopeful that one day it will.” ~Andrew J. Bailey

03. Zacarocha – “Stare and Fallin’”

“Like a chopped-and-screwed James Blake on steroids, Portugal’s Guilherme Lopes takes ambient and future garage tropes and infuses them with a loving dollop of haunted soul. Great stuff, especially for a first release.” ~Josh Becker

04. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – “More News From Nowhere”

“The back catalogue of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds is a wonderful, glorious thing, and the closing track on Dig Lazarus Dig! is full of violent, stirring poetry from an ace storyteller. Cave sure goes to some weird parties.” ~Brendan Frank

05. Future Bible Heroes – “Losing Your Affection”

“Stephin Merritt’s intentions for the direction of his Future Bible Heroes side project (a collaboration with ex-boyfriend Chris Ewen and Magnetic Field Claudia Gonson) can best be summed up by the fact that he once contributed three covers, with three separate aliases, to a Human League tribute album and saved “Don’t You Want Me” for this one. The collaboration just dropped the first single from their newest effort, Partygoing, so now’s as good a time as any to acquaint yourself with this excellent opening cut from 2002’s Eternal Youth.” ~Ryan Stanley

06. Thanksgiving – “Thanksgiving”

“I’ve spent some time lately delving into the weird secluded world of Adrian Orange. This self-reflective cut is culled from Orange’s 2005 self-titled effort as Thanksgiving, released when he was only 19. Phil Elverum of Mount Eerie called Orange, around this time, the writer of the greatest songs in the world, and Orange’s sonorous voice and fumbly acoustic guitar ramblings don’t do much to shirk that assertion.” ~Colin Joyce

07. Bonobo – “All In Forms”

“Bonobo’s new album, The North Borders, is out in a couple weeks and I’m pretty excited. This track’s a gem from his 2010 album Black Sands. I love when he holds the drums from coming in a few seconds too long before letting them crash in. Pure escapism, this one.” ~Will Ryan

08. Iceage – “Ecstasy”

“I’ve been too busy to listen to numerous new releases, but finally got around to hearing the latest Iceage album, in anticipation of their show this Saturday. The ferocious heedlessness of the song feels like an antidote to the annoying two-week old pain I’ve been experiencing from nerve/tissue -related damage. I’m sure I’ll be feeling ecstasy on Saturday night instead of pain.” ~Autumn Andel

09. XTC – “The World Is Full Of Angry Young Men”

“XTC’s songs have a way of being somehow even more relevant 30 years later. This is one such song, whose sentiment has, with the advent of the internet, become far too apparent.” ~Harrison Suits Baer

10. Yo La Tengo – “Cast A Shadow”

“I’d always enjoyed Beat Happening for tunes like “Indian Summer” and “Tiger Trap,” but it was “Our Secret” and “Cast a Shadow” that made me love them. Yo La Tengo’s cover of the latter trades in the original’s frayed beauty for something more traditionally pretty, but it never loses the heart of the song’s charm. As such, it might just be the perfect window into Beat Happening’s world for anybody initially put off by Calvin Johnson and co.’s often unabashedly ugly style.” ~Ryan Stanley

11. Zomby – “Strange Fruit”

“Predating both studio releases that brought the Anonymous fiend to wider attention, ‘Strange Fruit’ is a seemingly endless rendering of warped Game Over melodies, hefty knocks and welterweight bass that adds up to one of the most energetic tracks in Zomby’s repertoire, and one of the best to boot. Over the weekend I watched a DJ drop this in a packed club at peak time; no-one had heard it in years but it proved absolutely revelatory, a full half-decade after release.” ~Gabriel Szatan

12. Phosphorescent – “The Mermaid Parade”

“With Matthew Houck having just released his latest record as Phosphorescent this week, I found myself going back and forth between his latest, Muchacho, and his previous record Here’s To Taking It Easy.  The absolutely stunning apex track on Here’s To Taking It Easy, the deceptively laid-back, yet emotionally devastating tale of marital collapse that is “The Mermaid’s Parade,” plies much of its intensity and wrought-iron integrity from Houck’s honestly effective and plain spoken lyrics.  And when he sings “But god damn it Amanda, oh god damn it all,” it just kills me.” ~Joshua Pickard

If you enjoy any of these tracks, please support the artists by purchasing their respective albums. 

The post The Playlist: March 22, 2013 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

R.I.P. Jason Molina

It was announced today that Jason Molina, who released a bunch of beautiful albums under the names Songs: Ohia and Magnolia Electric Co. (amongst others) has passed away from organ failure due to alcoholism. His alcoholism was known about for a while, and not too long ago his family put out a plea asking for donations to help Jason get into rehab, but Molina’s notoriety was never that high, and had faded substantially in the last few years as he fell off the map, so evidently they never managed to get him together. Which is a real fucking shame.

Why is it the deaths of the artists that made sad music and had sad back stories that affect me the most? I remember when Mark Linkous (Sparklehorse) died a few years ago I was depressed for days, and I have a feeling it’s going to be the same with Molina. I think it’s because they had tough times and it seems like they never got their happy endings, which is just how brutal life is in reality, I suppose.

Linkous suffered from depression his whole life and mal-formed legs following his overdose while supporting Radiohead in the 90s. It had seemed like the problems were behind him though, having just released an album with Danger Mouse and David Lynch in 2009 and with talk of a new Sparklehorse album in the works, when the news came that he had killed himself in March 2010. By shooting himself in the heart.

With Molina, I had ignorantly assumed that his friends, family and fans would gather around him and nurse him back to health and he would release a stunning comeback album filled with stories beautifully rendered in song about the pain and strife that he’d been through. Alas, it was not meant to be.

Both Linkous’ and Molina’s music is hauntingly beautiful and I think that’s also part of the reason why their deaths affected me; their music is so brutally honest it was refreshing and crushing in equal measure, and I had endless time for it. Now their songs will haunt me in different ways.

Molina has such a vast back catalogue that I still haven’t even managed to get through it all, but I’ll be doing my best to do so in the coming months. My favourite album of his is The Magnolia Electric Co., the last album he released under the name Songs: Ohia in 2003, before taking up the album’s title as his new artist name. Below I’ve posted the opening track “Farewell Transmission,” which seems appropriate as Jason makes his journey to wherever we go to after we leave this plain. In fact, I’ve been listening through the album as I write this and pretty much every song seems perfect for this moment – particularly the closing “Hold On, Magnolia,” but you should listen through the whole album to reach that point – he was a genius at tapping into these moods. I recommend you listen to it. (It’s here on Spotify.)

So farewell Jason, I hope the next life treats you better.

Here are the full and brilliant lyrics to “Farewell Transmission”

The whole place is dark
Every light on this side of the town
Suddenly it all went down
Now we’ll all be brothers of the fossil fire of the sun
Now we will all be sisters of the fossil blood of the moon
Someone must have set us up
Now they’ll be working in the cold grey rock,
in the hot mill steam… in the concrete
In the sirens and the silences now
all the great set up hearts
all at once start to beat
After tonight if you don’t want us to be
a secret out of the past
I will resurrect it, I’ll have a good go at it
I’ll streak his blood across my beak and dust my feathers with his ashes
I can feel his ghost breathing down my back
I will try and know whatever I try,
I will be gone but not forever
The real truth about it is
no one gets it right
The real truth about it is
we’re all supposed to try
There ain’t no end to the sands
I’ve been trying to cross
The real truth about it is my kind of life’s no better off
If I’ve got the maps or if I’m lost
The real truth about it is there ain’t no end to the desert I’ll cross
I’ve really known that all along
Mama here comes midnight
with the dead moon in its jaws
Must be the big star about to fall
Long dark blues
Will-o’-the-wisp
The big star is falling
Through the static and distance
A farewell transmission
Listen

The post R.I.P. Jason Molina appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The Playlist is a weekly column where staff writers and occasional guest musicians will have the opportunity to put together a Spotify playlist of songs which they’ve been listening to recently.

For the inaugural installment of The Playlist, our staff writers culled through hundreds of songs that they’ve listened to recently and came up with 12 tracks to highlight.  These songs represent a sizable cross-section of genres and individual tastes and is representative of the wide range of music that we here at Beats Per Minute enjoy.  The Playlist will be be posted every Friday and will attempt to document a small chunk of the music which has been filtering through the listening habits of the BPM staff.

* “Miasma Sky” by Baths and “Rafflesia” by Boris are not available on Spotify, so Soundcloud and YouTube links have been substituted below.

01. Baths – “Miasma Sky” (from Obsidian, 2013)

“The first single from Baths’ new album Obsidian reflects the qualities that he’s been teasing towards in recent interviews–a dark-but-hooky sound that leans even further in the direction of Cerulean’s pop tunes “Plea” and “Hall” and farther away from blissed out instrumentals like “Aminals” and “Maximalist.” If you weren’t stoked already, you should be now.” ~Ryan Stanley

02. Josh Ritter – “Wildfires” (from The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter (Bonus EP), 2007)

“Josh Ritter’s new album, The Beast In Its Tracks, came out last week and has inspired me to pick back through his back catalog. “Wildfires” is one of Ritter’s most subtle, ethereal songs and was released on a bonus EP to complement 2007′s The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter. For best results, try listening through the privacy of headphones under the cover of darkness.” ~Andrew Bailey

03. YAST – “Stupid” (from “Stupid” single, 2012)

“Released in the fall of 2012, “Stupid” is the summer nostalgia bottled in a song, Swedish dream pop style – a perfect pick-me-upper for when weather or life becomes dreary.” ~Autumn Andel

04. Kendrick Lamar – “Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe” (from Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, 2012)

“My recent obsession with this song started as an attempt to annoy my non hip-hop appreciating cousins but they somehow ended up loving it as much as me. Proof that some songs are just too good or just too fun to be limited by genre.” ~Leslie Fernandez

05. Daniel Johnston & Jad Fair – “Chords of Fame” (from It’s Spooky, 1989)

“I’ve always liked Daniel Johnston’s music more in idea than in practice. It’s always just a bit too rough around the edges, but this collaboration with Jad Fair of Half Japanese (and in particular this heartbreaking/heartwarming Phil Ochs cover) reels in the ramshackle guitar work to make something charmingly inept, instead of just…inept.” ~Colin Joyce

06. Jim James – “A New Life” (from Regions Of Light And Sound Of God, 2013)

“Try as I might, I can’t seem to shake Jim James’ “A New Life” from my head. The song is pure wishful thinking and wistful ease – particularly the bari-sax-led breakdown that fills the song’s second half – but sometimes that’s just what people need. Time to stop trying to shake the song and start shaking other things.” ~Brian Hodge

07. Queen & David Bowie – “Under Pressure” (from Hot Space, 1982)

“With the release of The Next Day, I’ve been revisiting some of Bowie’s best performances. This may be the pinnacle. Faced with Freddie Mercury’s theatrics Bowie stays reserved throughout, but when he does decide to go up the gears the results are simply magnificent.” ~Daniel Griffiths

08. The Notorious B.I.G. – “Notorious Thugs” (from Life After Death, 1997)

“In commemoration of the 16th anniversary of his death, I’ve chosen the opening track off disc 2 of Life After Death for this inaugural edition of The Playlist. Accompanied by Bone Thugz, B.I.G. gifts us with one of his best flows every recorded to tape. R.I.P. the King of Rap.” ~Evan Kaloudis

09. R.E.M. – “Shaking Through” (from Murmur, 1983)

“If I ever hit it big and get to make a guest appearance on Sesame Street, this is the song I want to play. Absolutely perfect pop music. And that rumbling piano is so rich and cozy. Possibly the most fun song R.E.M. ever wrote.” ~Josh Becker

10. Boris – “Rafflesia” (from Rainbow, 2007)

“Michio Kurihara’s guitar solo on this song is a cosmic force. For a group that traded so heavily in the subterranean oppressiveness of drone doom, Boris sure knew how to fly.” ~Will Ryan

11. The Game & 50 Cent – “Hate It or Love It” (from The Documentary, 2005)

“In a year where he scored two reprehensible smash hits about his member and managed to fall out with pretty much everyone he came into contact with, The Game included, it seems as if the remaining positivity and decency left in Fiddy’s body was channeled solely into this track. The buttery soul sample perfectly compliments the uplifting message of anti-materialism and hard graft that both MCs put forward, adding up to a sublime track; eight years on and neither has come close to bettering it.” ~Gabriel Szatan

12. The Righteous Brothers – “Unchained Melody” (from Just Once In My Lifetime, 1965)

“From the rising harmonies and surprisingly cathartic instrumentation to the downright flawless melody (obviously), this absolutely stunning track from The Righteous Brothers never ceases to amaze. If the hairs don’t stand up on the back of your neck on your 100th listen, then I’d wager you’ve got ice water in your veins…and you probably hate kittens too. ~Joshua Pickard

If you enjoy any of these tracks, please support the artists by purchasing their respective albums. 

The post The Playlist: March 15, 2013 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Photo by Michael Do

I traveled down to Tampa this weekend to catch electronic pop favorites Purity Ring at the Orpheum, where the duo performed exactly one song that wasn’t on last year’s Shrines: a soulful RnB-ish number that was later identified, awesomely, as a cover of Soulja Boy’s “Grammy”, from the rapper’s third album The DeAndre Way. Judging from Youtube videos, the duo has apparently been performing the cover throughout the most recent leg of their North American tour — at this point all we can do is pray for a recorded version. Maybe they can get Soulja to jump on that banger “Belispeak” rework too. The possibilities are truly only as limited as the imagination. But even if nothing comes from it all, we finally have something to listen to alongside Beach House’s Gucci Mane cover, and that’s really all we can ask for.

Watch a video of Purity Ring performing the song in Atlanta below, and under that listen to Soulja Boy’s original.

The post Listen to Purity Ring cover Soulja Boy live appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Of course there are overlooked records. Like any and every year, there’s always too much music to consume and give appropriate time to. I personally find it hard to get on top of every great thing, and when end of year lists roll out across the web and in magazines and such, I get a little dizzy and depressed at just how many supposedly amazing records i’ve not listened to. I try to listen to lots, but I enjoy spending time with a record, getting to know its ins and outs. Even if a record isn’t perfect or worthy of eight thumbs up, I still like to travel through it over and over, seeing if time helps me appreciate other aspects, or at the very least, just to respect the album format. Thus, here are a few records I believe it’s worth either investing some time in, or just revisiting a few times more.

I’ll confess that as the year trundled on, I came to almost completely forget about Paralytic Stalks. And that’s a shame because it was something of a return to form for of Montreal, who didn’t execute another Hissing Fauna, but still show they have plenty of gumption left in them. A track like “Ye, Renew The Plaintiff” has everything I want from an of Montreal track in this day and age, and the likes of “Dour Percentage” and “Spiteful Intervention” are glorious pop numbers hiding between the erratic curves and contours of Kevin Barnes’ unpredictable/schizophrenic bursts of energy. I still think the second half of the album leaves a lot to be desired (only to be enjoyed when you’re in need of particular kind of Georgie Fruit-turned 16th Century morbid philosopher-turned avant garde composer on a severe LSD trip fix) but at its best the album reminds you why you hold out on this band.

Self-titled albums are often perceived as an artists or band’s most honest, confessional work, and in the case of Timberwolf, that’s spot on. Samuel Tucker Young’s debut self-titled is a journey through the ups and downs of coming out of a relationship, complete with suicidal lows, regrettable near-voyeuristic stalking, reassuring talks to one’s self, and (eventually) acceptance. From that you might surmise that Timberwolf is a heady record that pulls at plenty of emotional strings, and again you’d be spot on. It can be a little overwhelming sometimes, and when you don’t expect that lowest lows and highest highs, they can catch you off guard and leave you a bit winded. It’s an album that takes you through the motions, but then again, relationships (and their demise) will do that.

Kody Neilson’s Opossom project will unfortunately be overshadowed by his brother Ruban’s work (Unknown Mortal Orchestra) and that’s a shame since it’s meant that Opossom’s debut Electric Hawaii has either completely eluded people or just been swept under the carpet. It’s a tight album, running little over half an hour, but still manages to throw out ten tracks that each have something offer. It might be argued that Neilson never quite nails that sound he seems to be aiming for, but it adds to the loose feel, and part of the joy of revisiting Electric Hawaii is listening to that sound that’s something like Belle & Sebastian on a desert island – and even a desert island has its own little treasures to be found.

The Sister is a record that suffers from being overshadowed, too. Marissa Nadler’s self-titled from 2011 was one of her strongest albums to date, and The Sister which is quite literally a “sister album” to it. What’s odd though is that it’s the darker of the two records that is overshadowed by its brighter counterpart. The Sister features plenty of ghostly cooing, and for most part features nothing more than Nadler alone with her guitar, and as a consequence has a chilly edge – even the optimistically titled “Love Again, There Is A Fire” sounds like it’s shuffling about in burnt out ashes. Nonetheless, the album features some of Nadler’s best song that’ll compare to anything else loved from her catalogue, such as the darkly spiralling “The Wrecking Ball Company,” the sublime “Apostle,” and lulling wordless harmonies of “To a Road, Love.” Sister in title, yes, but even though every parent is lying when they say so, they love all their children equally, and the same should go for Marissa Nadler albums.

As far as many are concerned, Jens Lekman can rightfully claim the title of “Best Album From A Swedish Person” for 2012 (and The Knife seem a dead cert for the award in 2013), but as any explorative music fan will tell you, there’s more to Sweden than Mr Lekman. Frida Hyvönen is one of those artists who has been tinkering away behind her piano for years, weaving tales from past memories, relationships that have come and gone, and trying to figure out plenty of unanswerable questions in between. Her third proper album To The Soul is actually something of a contrast to Lekman’s I Know What Love Isn’t: Lekman sought to strip away a lot of the fanfare while Hyvönen has beefed up her output, with tracks full of more instrumentation. Personally I don’t find it quite as enamouring as her previous album, Silence Is Wild, but Hyvönen is an artist who can catch you by surprise with a simple phrase of melody, and To The Soul has plenty of them on offer.

Earlier this year my fine colleague Rob Hakimain was sporting enough to post about a project I was involved with, which involved a group of musicians/Sufjan Steven enthusiasts coming together to complete the infamously abandoned Fifty States Project. Since then there has been seven more states tackled, and one of the most notable efforts is that of Daniel Headington who took on Idaho. There’s plenty of Sufjan imitation in the song titles and the minute long instrumental tracks that are mere melodical codas to the previous song, but there’s also plenty to honest-to-goodness enjoyable music here. The album begins with Headington wanting to follow in the paths of a past love, and take up residence, where they once were. While he’s there he goes from adoring the place, sounding like a State-approved pamphlet, to despondently singing of wanting to go home. It’s a tremendous album, and with a track like “Ada, Boise,” you could easily mistake the whole thing for a Sufjan album in the making. The crux, though? Headington is a Sydney-based musician who has never stepped a foot in Idaho. Beautiful Idaho: inspired by Sufjan and inspiring in itself.

I heard a lot of people describing Break It Yourself as “boring,” which led me to defend it as an album for Andrew Bird fans. Finding enjoyment worth revisiting in Break It Yourself comes from being familiar with Bird’s back catalogue, and understanding it as a piece of an ever-evolving jigsaw. Of course, it’s not all stuff that requires a PhD in Bird-omonics, as evidenced by the sprightly “Give It Away” or the hypnotizing and elegant “Hole In the Ocean Floor,” but I won’t deny that knowing where this sits in Bird’s archive makes it a more enjoyable experience overall.

First and foremost: “The Sad Facts” is up there as one of my favourite tracks of the year. It’s just one of those songs that can go out of your mind for a while, and when you come across it again, you wonder why you ever stopped listening. Cambriana are hard act to pin down style or genre wise; they’re a band best listened to so as to gain an understanding. Admittedly their debut album House of Tolerance sits in an odd place with me. I think it’s a wonderful album, full of ebbs and flows that are comforting and ever so slightly disconcerting – like a warm tide pulling you ever so gradually further away from shore. However, I came across it when I was going through a transition in my work that I wasn’t in favour of, and I would listen to this on my way to work, and I can’t decide if it deepened or dispersed the depressed dread I felt every morning. What I know is that the association seems fixed for me, and even though it recalls me of a low time in my life, I still want to hear it again and again.

After a few impressionable live encounters earlier this year, everyone seems fixated on Kishi Bashi and his theatrical take on Andrew Bird/Owen Pallet’s violin loop technique. And rightfully so, as far as I’m concerned. And while this helped build excitement for his debut album 151a, the chatter of one of the most promising talents seemed to fade away. Perhaps he was spending too much time with Kevin Barnes? Possibly. Maybe 151a wasn’t really that good? Definitely not. In fact, I’d be convinced you hadn’t even spun 151a once if you utter a statement like that. It’s an album for your ears to gorge on, full of wonderful, glowing melodies; crescendos that will sweep you off your feet and land you safely on the ground again; and sonic effects that are hidden in plain sights, like the simple sound of some handclaps. 151a is a record to be proud of, both for Kishi Bashi having made, and for having listened to repeatedly.

Heartbreaking Bravery might seem an odd choice here, as plenty of people paid it attention upon its release, and most spoke favourably of it (as fans finally seemed to accept that Spencer Krug is much more than just Spencer Krug from Wolf Parade and Sunset Rubdown). But it also slipped out of people’s minds and unless there’s the slightest ruffle of Krug reigniting the fire from one of his previous outfits, then people don’t seem that interested in what he’s doing, or in this case, what he has done. With Finnish band Sinaii, he creates an alluring world that I keep coming back to. I want to say “Yesterday’s Fire” is a raucous stomper, but it’s not exactly raucous as it is restrained and fuzzy, and not really stomper, but more of a strangely involving chug. There’s something about this inbetween world that Krug and Sinaii occupy that draws me in, whether it be with the woozy Siren-like synths of “Faraway Lightening” or the just that extra drumbeat in “Quickfire, I Tried, ” there’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on. And until I can find the right word to describe it, or pinpoint what it is about Heartbreaking Bravery that I like enough to want to play it again and again, then I’m just going to keep enjoying it as much as I can.

The post Ray’s Overlooked Records of 2012 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

2012 was a year of transitions for me; graduating, finding a job, dissolving a long-term relationship, moving to a different city, and attempting to cope with the end of times is a rather daunting list, in retrospect. My taste is music has shifted as well, in similarly broad strokes. I’ve never before had a top 5 like this. Not that numbering is important, really. I like all these albums enough that parsing out single percentage points between them is probably a waste of time. The exceptions are numbers 1 and 2, which have, from my perspective, quite clearly separated themselves from the pack.

Honourable mentions: Ekstasis by Julia Holter, Tempest by Bob Dylan, and Orcas by Orcas

WIXIW is just another stop on the bizarre and fascinating route that Liars have been charting for over a decade. It isn’t their best album, but it burrows the deepest. Who could have predicted that a) they would go the minimal electronica route and b) pull it off so successfully?

A sprawling, vivid, flawed masterpiece, and a coming out party of unequivocally heroic proportions. The scale and musical latitude of Channel Orange is unheard of in contemporary R&B, and no voice out there invites the use of the word ‘elegant’ like Ocean’s does. Also, “Pyramids”.

Emotionally pungent and crowded with cling-to-your-ribs melodies, this won the horse race v. Wild Nothing for my nostalgia trip of the year. I give the edge to Oshin simply because it was such a genuine surprise. Music that sounds this warm and welcoming from the moment you hit play is hard to come by.

At the moment, this is favourite album to get drunk to, likely because drinking is Japandroids’ favourite thing to sing about. Considering what Brian King and David Prowse went through to reach Celebration Rock, it’s a small wonder that it was ever made. That it also happens to be a head-banging, beer-chugging, puke-your-guts-out good time is worth celebrating.

I had never heard of Mesita before BPM stamped a “Recommended” tag on this record, so my out-of-nowhere award goes to The Coyote. James Cooley’s project cuts deeper than you would ever expect, like sifting through old photo albums, jogging memories that you thought you’d long forgotten. “Ken Caryl” and “Out for Blood” are two of my favourite songs of the year.

A platter of slow-burning techno that nourishes your brain more than your body. Luxury Problems nails the dizzying trifecta of originality, versatility and evolution. It’s exceptional on every level, and it gets better every time I listen to it, which is often.

From a technical standpoint, FlyLo’s latest dwarfs everything else on this list. The liquid, dreamlike essence of Steven Ellison’s vision is a wonder to behold, and those ace guest spots don’t hurt, either. Cosmogramma bent space and time, Quiet just becomes it.

It has become discouragingly rare for an emcee to actually take carte blanche and do something creative with it in the studio. Enter Compton wunderkind Kendrick Lamar. His transition from underground hero on Section.80 to one of the best in the game on good kid now seems like it was inevitable. Your move, Yeezy.

Even when Kevin Parker is off in his own little world (a regular occurrence), Lonerism is unifying and jubilant in a way that vehemently contradicts its own worldview. Picking favourites is a useless exercise; it’s just one gem after another. Tame Impala might be rock and roll’s most exciting band right now.

The dissent is deafening, I’m sure. I honestly can’t help myself. To my ears, nothing else this year was as thrilling, sonically audacious, or downright fun as The Money Store. Death Grips weren’t long for the corporate world, but they took advantage of it while they had the chance. I still can’t get over the image of a dozen Sony execs listening to this in the boardroom. I’ll see myself out, Colin.

The post Brendan’s Favorite Records of 2012 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Three and a half years ago, I decided to take the plunge into writing about music by starting my own blog (natch). While it was fun putting in my two cents about the day’s music news, my favorite thing to write was record reviews, and nothing made me happier than compiling my favorite albums of the year and writing blurbs for every one of them (usually around 35) for friends, family, and (hopefully) future employers to enjoy. It was a labor of love that I unfortunately did not have the time for this year. However, once I started writing the blurbs for this piece, I could not get myself out of writing in the manner that I had conducted my year-end lists over at Flipside Sounds (which hasn’t been updated since my Top 35 Albums of 2011 list last year). Seeing that was the case, I decided to count down my albums like I have done since I started ranking in 2010, and it is my hope that you enjoy reading this feature as much as I had fun writing it.

One album that I kept returning to this year was the long awaited debut of Orlando Higginbottom’s Totally Enormous Extinct Dinosaurs project. After spending the last few years refining a sound that anyone familiar with the recent resurgence of UK rave/dance movement could appreciate, Trouble sees the young producer and songwriter making some of the most compulsively listenable songs of 2012. Tracks like “Garden,” “Household Goods” and “Tapes & Money” were mainstays on my playlists this year, as Higginbottom’s pop sensibilities and passive-aggressive laments on love resulted in songs that were affecting, easily relatable, and a hell of a lot of fun to listen to. It will be extremely interesting to see where Higginbottom takes his sound from here, but for the time being Trouble is an excellent electro-pop album that is worth revisiting time and again.

Attack On Memory is one of the most suiting titles for an album in some time. Before this year my perception of Cloud Nothings was that it was an enjoyable, if not particularly memorable, bedroom rock project that was a little too cutesy for my tastes. Nothing could have prepared me for the sheer amount of growth and artistic risk that Dylan Baldi and his band undertook for the group’s third album. The sense of ominous tension that made “No Future/No Past” one of the best album openers of the year, Baldi’s newly discovered visceral singing voice, and the knockout of a chorus for “Stay Useless” showed levels of maturity that most would have thought impossible for the band only a year ago. And as a recent college graduate, Baldi’s rallying cry of “I thought I would be more than this!” on “Wasted Days” struck an emotional chord with me like few other songs this year. Through the course of eight bombastic, raw, and vital slices of angst that only someone in their early twenties could muster, Attack On Memory is a statement of intent from a band who was finally ready to be taken seriously.

Brother Ali has a unique gift of calling things how he sees them, and his continued dedication to the social ills of a country on the mend made Mourning In America and Dreaming In Color arguably the most important rap release of 2012. Continuing the trend of 2009’s equally astounding US, Ali tackles heavy topics like war, the cycle of poverty, and the collapse of the American Dream with his one of a kind sense of empathy and perspective. Never once do any of the songs here feel overly preachy or condescending. It is evident through the tone of his voice, the choice of his words, and his unwavering charisma that he empathizes with the subjects of his songs, and that many of the problems faced by the average American are his problems as well. Ali also uses the album as a way of working out some of his personal demons, from struggling with the death of his father to the challenges of family life, and he applies his abilities just as effortlessly when the subject is himself. While he is rightfully unpleased with the America of 2012, the album never falls victim to its own heaviness, and evidence of Ali’s optimism despite the hardships are evident throughout. Mourning In America and Dreaming In Color sees the underground veteran continue along his artistic peak from three years ago with a new sense of purpose and confidence that make the album a must hear for anyone with even a passing interest in hip-hop.

After reaching an apex with 2010’s Teen Dream, Beach House returned this year with the equally strong Bloom, an album that proved their dream-pop formula has lost none of its luster. Few groups are capable of recycling a sound across multiple albums, but when there is such a strong sense of craft and constant innovation within the template it is hard to get upset. This is the case with Bloom, as Victoria Legrand and Alex Scully continued to prove that they are masters of downbeat ethereal haziness. Songs like “Myth,” “Lazuli” and “New Year” are fine additions to the Beach House cannon, with Legrand’s gorgeous alto continuing to grow stronger, her arrangements still high up in the clouds, and Scully’s astounding guitar work combining to create a blissful musical landscape that mask Legrand’s laments. While it may not carry the sheer element of surprise and artistic growth evident on Teen Dream, Bloom succeeded in reaffirming that Legrand and Scully are still the best at what they do.

2012 was a particularly good year for straight up guitar rock, and Oshin was one of the genre’s crowning achievements. The six-string talents of Zachary Cole Smith and Andrew Bailey made for some of the most heady and transcendent guitar lines of the last few years, their riffs and licks swirling and ringing out like a more experimental variation on the Atlantic chimes of Cole’s Beach Fossils and Real Estate. However, what really elevates Oshin is the insistent and propulsive rhythm section of Devin Ruben Perez on bass and former Smith Westerns drummer Colby Hewitt. They provide a forceful and driving backdrop over which Cole and Bailey can let their imaginations run free, resulting in a sound that is at once invigorating and inventive. Tracks like “How Long Have You Known” “Human” and “Doused” continue to reveal new nuances upon repeated listens, and even the instrumental tracks qualify as essential listening. Demonstrating an effortless approach to songwriting, Oshin is a fine achievement that is the first of hopefully many to come for DIIV.

Check out our Top EP’s list for my thoughts on this astounding release.

Ten years on, and the Walkmen are still incapable of making a bad record. After the slight retread of 2006’s A Hundred Miles Off, the band have produced some of their best work displaying a level of maturity and dedication to artistic growth that makes them unique amongst their peers from the NYC Indie Class of 2002. Heaven is as good of a victory lap as anyone could have hoped for, as the band sound content with their position while still remaining aware of how to maintain the spirit that resulted in their third consecutive masterstroke. Frontman Hamilton Leithauser’s voice continues to impress, and songs like “We Can’t Be Beat,” “Heartbreaker,” and the title track sees him crooning with a sense of elegance that is in perfect sync with his accomplished bandmates. Paul Maroon is still one of the most criminally underrated and talented guitarists around, and bassist Walter Martin, keyboardist Peter Bauer and drummer Matt Barrick sound just as confident in their ability to craft memorable soundscapes that are just as important a part to the band’s sound as Leithauser. Heaven is the sound of a band putting an exclamation point on their first decade together through continuing to refine and redefine what it is that makes them one of the most consistent groups of their generation. Though it may not have the same sense of urgency as You & Me or the Sun Records wistfulness of Lisbon, the Walkmen sound positively triumphant here, and the made it known throughout the course of their journey through Heaven.

Claire Boucher has seen her share of backlash since the February release of Visions, mostly in the form of claims that she is a signifier of everything wrong with Tumblr’s focus on image over substance and nothing more than the product of a hype cycle meant to push some massive blogoshpere conspiracy. What these detractors conveniently choose to omit, however, is that Boucher’s Grimes project attracted the most attention on the strength of her songwriting and her uniquely weird approach to electro-pop. Visions is a pop album in the purest sense, albeit one with some of the most unconventional sounds and flourishes you are likely to hear, and it is the enthusiasm and sense of wonder with which Boucher crafted these songs that emits from the speakers. It is easy to take for granted how much of a risk an album like this one really is, as in the wrong hands it could have been an unforgivable mess. The reason it succeeds is based solely upon Boucher’s skills as a songwriter; one needs to look no further than the Japanese inspired sweeping synths and harp tinged etherealness of “Genesis,” Boucher’s complete selling of a sense of longing on “Oblivion,” or the sensual “Skin” to see that she is in complete control of her songs. While people can debate her image and use of the internet to promote herself all they want, the fact remains that Visions is a self-assured debut that built on Grimes initial promise and saw Boucher peaking at just the right time.

Corin Roddick and Megan James of Purity Ring could have cared less about the outside noise that made them one of the most talked about groups of the last two years. On the strength of their revelatory early singles that displayed a sense of identity that many more established acts could only hope for, Roddick’s laser focused synths, vocal manipulations, and Southern hip-hop inspired beats combined with James’ innocent voice and morbid lyrical content to create an extreme sense of anticipation for what the band was capable of on a full-length album. The results were better than anyone could have hoped for, as Shrines is a remarkable debut that proves their abilities while managing to sound like little else this year. Roddick’s production talents are impossible to deny, as his keen ability to inject mood and melody into some of the cleanest sounding drum patterns and snaps heard all year make his arrangements astounding achievements in their own right. However, it is James’ ability to sing with conviction cryptic phrases of cults inside of her, drilled eyelids, and trembling thighs in a distinctly innocent and sweet voice that set Purity Ring apart, and together the two make manage to create an album whose only stumble comes courtesy of Young Magic’s Isaac Emmanuel (seriously, the rapping on “Grandloves” almost manages to completely void an otherwise gorgeous track). More than a year and a half in the making, Shrines is a testament to the virtues of patience and humbleness that resulted in one of the most unique and purely enjoyable listening experiences of 2012.

Few albums have been held closer to my heart than Twin Shadow’s Forget. George Lewis Jr’s 2010 debut injected a sense of romanticism and vitality into the new-wave template in a way that resonated with me on many personal levels, and it quickly secured a spot as one of my all time favorite records. That being said, Confess is an even stronger statement from Lewis, and while it may not hold the same sort of sentimental connection that Forget does, it sees him coming into his own in ways that were only hinted at a couple years ago. The crunching guitars, insistent rhythms and sparkling synths, sound bigger, louder, and more forceful in accordance with Lewis‘ increasing confidence. From the rush of “Five Seconds” to the familiar lovelornness of “Beg For The Night” and “When The Movie’s Over,” Lewis plays the part of the heartsick hedonistic bad boy with class and bravado, qualities that are reflected in his songwriting and ultimately help to make Confess more than just a direct sequel to Forget. It’s no secret that Lewis‘ voice is his secret weapon, and his croon sounds just as yearning and remorseful as ever while releasing chill inducing bellows of “This isn’t love!” on “Run My Heart” and exercising excellent control on “I Don’t Care.” While Lewis self-produced and played most of the instruments on Confess, the band leader that comes out during his live performances with a touring groups is on full display here, and though Lewis may still not want to believe (or be) in love, his chronicling of those sentiments made for an album that, in my opinion, was unparalleled in 2012.

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One of the elements of The xx’s debut album that made it such a success was how fully-realized it was in sound and presentation. Much like Interpol’s Turn on the Bright Lights, The xx sounded like the work of artists far deeper into their career than they actually were. On Coexist, this trend continues, but there’s a layer of subtlety on the record that runs far deeper than that of their debut. The band has always been masterful at translating the emotional atmosphere of whispered bedroom confessions into music, but on Coexist, that atmosphere is so fragile, fleeting, and intimate, it often sounds as if it’s barely there.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s ‘Allelujah! Don’t Bend! Ascend! places them on the incredibly small list of acts that managed to return from a lengthy hiatus with a work that ranks among their very best. No one can craft the sounds of the apocalypse quite like Godspeed, and in a world that continuously feels as if it’s on the brink of total collapse, their return couldn’t have come at a better time. Don’t Bend! is a symphony of destruction – a proclamation of the end of the world that at once welcomes and fears it.

While The Weeknd uses an R&B palate to craft works of unspeakable menace and unsettlingly vivid moral decay, the closest thing he has to a sibling, How to Dress Well, pulls from that same stylistic pool in order to present a world of staggering loss, frailty, and beauty. There isn’t a single narrator this year that sounds more damaged than Tom Krell, but behind that darkness, there’s an undeniable sense that the void is escapable. Total Loss is a story of recovery, even in the face of unimaginable wreckage, and this elevates it from a work that’s simply bleak, to one that’s beautiful.

2012 was an incredibly strong year for music, in particular for albums either partially or completely electronic in nature. Grimes’ Visions is a stellar example of this digital renaissance – recalling everything from Bjork to Depeche Mode while simultaneously creating its own unique identity. It’s a pop record that’s as sugar-coated as it is off-kilter, and in that striking contrast, it ultimately finds its power.

Like many of the albums on this list, Kill for Love’s primary selling point is in its masterful grasp of atmosphere. It’s dark, dense, and often detached, opening with a cover of Neil Young’s “Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black)” that somehow manages to take that song’s lamentations and increase the tragedy of their tone exponentially. What follows is a record as indebted to the sounds of post-punk as it is new wave – layering the darkness of the instrumental work with a gloss of pop accessibility. Because of this, Kill for Love often works on two levels – initially pulling the listener in through its undeniably New Order-esque electronic sheen only to reveal its underlying sense of sorrow and loss the deeper we delve into its world.

Luxury Problems captures the dark side of rave-culture – the 4 a.m. come down on a night fueled by substance abuse and blaring electronic bass. It’s the moment where you’ve realized the party should have ended hours ago – the euphoria has metamorphosed into an inescapable depression, the music has turned menacing, and the people you loved only hours ago are now impossible to endure for another second. Luxury Problems takes you deep down into this darkness – peeling back the layers of the familiar stylistic tendencies of house music and revealing something frigid, murky, and threatening.

Like Sleigh Bells’ Treats, The Jesus and Mary Chain’s Psychocandy, and Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral, The Money Store isn’t notable because it’s loud, but because it redefines what loud can be. Its abrasion and its noise is constructed in a way you’ve never quite heard before – creating a volatility and unpredictability that adds immense power to the song work on display. Through its schizophrenic song construction, the band captures the sound of anguish, collapse, and desperation in a way that’s nauseatingly tangible. Much like a prison riot, The Money Store functions not as a means of escape, but of inflicting as much damage as possible before the inevitable return to confinement.

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The way it usually works is we hit the reset button at the beginning of January and most of the under-the-radar releases in the year previous might as well not have existed. I wanted to put together a list of a few albums that didn’t make the site’s top 50 or Honorable Mentions list and maybe weren’t necessarily the talk of the town, but deserve a listen from anyone with a passing interest in techno, house, UK bass, weirdo hip-hop, ambient, and drone. I spent most of the year stepping from one alright techno and deep house LP to the next. I feel a little villainous in how little chance I gave some albums, deciding if it didn’t grab me on the first couple listens and if someone didn’t say “hey, no, you should really listen to this” then it wasn’t worth going any further with. Such is the dickish nature of music bloggers. Music is not a commodity, but there’s literally only so much time in a year. The albums below stuck with me, however, and they’re ones I think deserve remembering.

These guys turned enough heads with their cut, “Creeper,” to get signed to Modeselektor’s 50 Weapons imprint and They!Live follows suit in exploring the same hooky, gooey low-end, zero frills house music. Lot of moments of startling beauty here too.

Canadian ambient techno guy, Jessie Somfay, returns three years after his last record, the excellent A Catch In The Voice, with a lengthy and gorgeous take on Burial-esque UK garage sounds infused with his own vision of unconscious, subaquatic ambient music. A million records have chased Untrue, but this one has much more of a purpose than simply recreating the same atmospheres and textures. Some incredible stuff on here.

I should probably pay more attention to Bvdub, this being his fourth record of 2012, but I’ve been in the habit of only checking out one of his a year, counting on him to keep putting out the same (good) straight-laced ambient techno-ish record over and over, but All Is Forgiven is a but of a departure, you might say. It’s probably a little bit hyperbolic to call this Clams Casino meets William Basinski, but that’s kinda what it sounds like at times. Cloud rap atmospherics (wha?) in a slowly disintegrating wall of ambiance. These three twenty-t0-thirty minute tracks pile on an ungodly amount of samples, creating beautiful skyscraper-sized compositions.

Romanian ambient/drum’n'bass producer, Dan HabarNam’s full-length solo debut on D-Bridge’s Exit Records. Dan HabarNam has been running with the Autonomic crew for a bit, but his debut marks him as somewhat of an outsider. From The Known has more in common with Vangelis synth wizardry and subaquatic funk than it does with the rest of the Exit Record signees, but the album contains some of the most engrossing and beautiful sounds I heard this year. It’s like a warm milky blanket.

I’m mainly putting this one on here to remind people it came out. After Tryptych last year, it’s not hard to figure out why this didn’t earn as much attention, but it has its own sonic identity, delving more into industrial territories. And, really, no one can stir mood like Demdike Stare.

Digressions is an album I’m going to be listening to well into 2013. It’s all ambient strings and piano pieces of such bombastic and prevalent beauty. A little more involved and ‘composed’ than something like Stars Of The Lid, but no less moving.

Another 50 Weapons release. This time from a German native reinventing himself with the sounds of house and UK garage with a touch of Berlin dub. This one has a lot of pop and club appeal, but it’s intricate and subtle enough to work well in the headphones.

This is one I hope I get around to reviewing in January. Such beautiful and listenable ambient techno. Kind of a mixture of Kranky-esque synth waves, Kompakt minimal techno, Boards of Canada melodies, and a bit of UK bass thrown in there for good measure. One of the best albums to fall asleep to (in a good way, obviously) I heard this year. The album sleeve is a perfect representation of the mood you’ll hear on Growing.

Blackest Ever Black is right. This is some of the darkest most evil sounding stuff since, well, Demdike Stare’s 2010 album run probably. These guys build barbed industrial atmospheres with slowed BPMs and jagged synth, strings, and guitar textures. It has more in common with atmospheric doom metal than techno.

Some fiercely atmospheric and abstract sub-aquatic computer dub from the man behind the ever reliable Comforce moniker. The rhythms on this one are especially delicious, never really rising above simple suggestion.

Silent Servant aka Jaun Mendez was a member of the now-defunct collective, Sandwell District, so if you’ve heard that name, you might know what you’re getting into here. Dark post-punk infused industrial techno, antique drums and all.

One of 2012′s most secret successes. Supreme Cuts did a lot this year including a full free mixtape with rapper Haleek Maul. Whispers In The Dark is a heavily emotive take on ethereal beats and modern London sounds with huge melodies and beautiful point A-to-B-to-C song structures.

The post Will’s Underrated Dance/Electronic/Drone Records of 2012 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

If someone would’ve told me my ten favourite albums of 2012 would’ve been these a year ago I probably would have said “what?!” as I only knew (and liked) two artists out of the ten prior to this year. Those two would be Ty Segall, who I liked but didn’t love, and Niki & The Dove who I had just discovered with the release of their The Drummer EP in October last year. But hey, this is what’s so wonderful about being a music fan, isn’t it? The discovery of new acts, both actually new (World Tour) and new to you (Jens Lekman, Damien Jurado etc).

Several acts whom I’d previously heard but never become a fan of turned out to become my favourites this year, with Jens Lekman and Damien Jurado being the most obvious examples. Lekman’s beautiful and heartbreaking I Know What Love Isn’t completely blew me away emotionally in a way that I never would’ve expected. And then How To Dress Well did the same a month later with Total Loss. Several of my very favourite acts around ended up further down on the list (The Tallest Man On Earth, Sun Kil Moon and Patterson Hood for example) in favour of new discoveries like John Talabot and DIIV. And Chromatics’ Kill For Love finally overwon my doubts (and it’s own length) and ended up as one of my absolute favourites. Here’s hoping 2013 will bring as many new discoveries.

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2012 was the year of unabashed emotionalism. Whether it was the monolithic rage and horror on the latest record from Swans or the pummeling aggression on All We Love We Leave Behind by Converge, music this year seemed predisposed to elicit sudden and deep-seated reactions from its listeners. And I guess that’s the role which music has always played for those of us so inclined to obsess over every note and lyric, but this year felt different. It felt far more personal than in years past. Instead of going for the grand generic emotional statements (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing and can produce intermittently staggering works of art), artists in 2012 felt a need to develop a personal relationship with their listeners and to try to confide, inspire, and accuse in equal measure.

This year, like every year before, presented artists who expanded their already well-established sounds and others who took some pretty bizarre detours into relatively new directions. Also, Ty Segall made the electric guitar relevant again. I’ve pulled together a few records, my Top 10 in fact, but as is usual for these kinds of things, this list seems to be in any changing state of flux. I think that’s sort of the point though, right? Not mentioned, and falling just out of the top 10, are excellent records by bands like Flying Lotus, Pallbearer, Lambchop, First Aid Kit, and a host of others. While we may not have had many “event” releases this year, 2012 turned out to be a music lover’s dream, with records that appealed to both the head and the hips and made more people look like idiots—myself included—trying to analyze and deconstruct what many of these records meant. Sometimes I have to remind myself to just forget the criticism and listen to the goddamn music. Maybe I’ll do better in 2013. (Probably not though.)

Favorite Track: “Reagan”

Favorite Track: “Bright Lanterns”

Favorite Track: “We Drift Like Worried Fire”

Favorite Track: “Aimless Arrow”

Favorite Track: “Wave Goodbye”

Favorite Track: “Normal Song”

Favorite Track: “These Streets Will Never Look The Same”

Favorite Track: “Pale Lights”

Favorite Track: “Oh Hail No”

Favorite Track: “Mother Of The World”

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There’s this prevailing thought that seems to kick up around this time of year without fail, that–behold!–the guitar is making its return. Guitar bands are coming back to sway the public from those dudes with laptops who aren’t making “real music” anyway. Yeah, sure. I spent a large portion of my 2012 in some ambient music induced k-hole, far removed from The Vaccines and Palma Violets, or whoever NME’s touting as the savior of their beloved brit-rock–the next band to keep the simmering torch lit by Blur and Oasis alive for another year. I’ll admit a certain sort of ignorance to their clangy inclinations, but I still listened to a lot of “guitar music” this year (whatever that means). Here’s eight (or well, nine) of my favorites in alphabetical order. I mean, maybe everyone’s sold their guitars to buy turntables and maybe people are starting to sell their turntables to buy guitars, but these bands are evidence that that holy grail of guitar music has been right under the music press’ collective nose the whole time.

This Philly based practitioner of Pac NW mope rock (think Built to Spill, Modest Mouse, Elliott Smith) puts his focus decidedly toward his lyrical expressions, but his brand of straghtforward indie rock feels at once familiar and refreshing. Both Rules and Trick were released over the course of this year and hit at the right moment. They’re downers, but Alex’s nasally voice trudges through the intertwined vines of the instrumentation to create something cathartic and beautiful.

This list could have honestly just ended up a list of the 10 best records released on Burger, an LA based refuge of the sounds of years past, perhaps best known for pressing the works of Ty Segall and OFF! to cassette. Gap Dream’s self-titled LP came out earlier this year and functioned a similarly nostalgic look at years past, but as much as their self-titled relies on the intricate guitarwork that marks the label’s releases as a whole, its decidedly more reserved and laid back. Gabriel Fulmivar’s drawl is laconic in a way that J Mascis might admire but instead of ramping up the chaos around his voice, Fulmivar is content to just float along and let his sparse guitar lines do as much of the talking.

Grass Widow’s particular brand of post-punk relies on driving guitar work as much as it does their patiently intertwining vocals. Tracks bounce along, sometimes atonal guitars resting atop the consistent pattern of kraut-indebted drumming all the while Raven Mahon, Hannah Lew and Lillian Marling conjure a heavenly float overtop their dangerous din. The sonics of early twee without the sloppy playing and the griminess of bass heavy post-punk without the Manc-y bark that often accompanied it. Highly recommended.

I’ve lavished my praise on Lower’s 2012 EP elsewhere, but just to recap, they’ve got the melodies of Echo and The Bunnymen, the knife’s edge attack of countrymates and Escho labelmates Iceage and a unique warped lyricism all their own. It’s a game of spot-the reference-point, but a rewarding one, not lacking in overwhelming guitar rush.

Portland’s the Memories make sloppy lo-fi rock and roll rave ups about like, girls and getting high. It’s sleepy at times, its simple, its the sort of record that reaffirms why the guitar exists. It’s all pop and hiss and love songs.

Sam Ray–the man at the heart of Teen Suicide–may take objection to I Will Be My Own Hell… being termed a guitar album, given his stated goal to write pop songs, but many of the brightest moments find Teen Suicide taking a post-emo strut. Ray begs to be released from his earthly body on “Give Me Back To The Sky” and wails his way through the driving “Have You Been Eating That Sandwich Again.” He trades the guitar for piano on “Grim Reaper” and synth on “Cop Graveyard,” but never loses the spirit of the album. He’s aimed for the ascendant and achieved it. Teen Suicide broke up a couple of weeks ago, but if there’s an album to go out on it’s this one.

The Tough Shits take the best bits of The Mats’ endearing hooks and marry it to a scuzzy sort of garage rock that could only be found on Burger Records. Lyrically simple, but endlessly catchy and wholly at home within the Burger catalog. It’s endlessly bouncy and happy even if the lyrics take a turn toward the dark at points, as on the Free Energy-indebted anti-self-harm rant of “Early Grave.” The band’s a bit tighter than you might imagine, and makes room for more than a few solos.

Mac DeMarco made a couple of the year’s best guitar records, but our love for his sound has been pretty exhaustive. In Walter TV, his bass player Pierce McGarry takes the lead on a set of tape warped tracks way weirder than DeMarco ever attempted. These songs play like flanged guitar based takes on Animal Collective’s kaleidoscopic pop, all the while featuring guitar lines that had to have come from DeMarco himself in their immediate catchiness. Weird, enrapturing and decidedly mushy on the production end, Appetite shows a lot of promise from what could be dismissed as a side-project to a much buzzed about band. If you always dreamed of a version of Mac DeMarco that was burned out from too many psychedelics, here’s your record.

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Weirdness for its own sake isn’t a virtue. But albums that defy genre conventions and attempt a totally unique sound are often among my favorites. Intimidated by neither tradition nor obscurity, artists that make unusual records are in many ways musical scientists, willing to take risks and toy with new or otherwise overlooked noises. And when their experiments are successful–when they combine experimental sensibilities and aesthetic appreciation–these artists deserve a bit of recognition. These records aren’t for everybody, but for those listeners willing to explore the outskirts of musicality, they offer something special. Each year, many weird records are released, and I don’t pretend to have heard most of them. That said, here are ten albums that pushed the envelope without tearing it apart, carving new sonic spaces with thankfully little regard to what music “ought” to entail.

While glitch techno isn’t a new genre, here’s a record that manages to fall into that category while also stretching far beyond it. Its erratic percussion belies a subtle yet consistent rhythmic focus. Tracks like “Uu78” and “0311_01 Re 0510_24” seem to be on the verge of collapsing into themselves or falling apart in a state of disjointed disrepair, but they never actually lose momentum or meander into petty abstraction. And there’s a refreshing variety of sounds to be found here that doesnt limit itself to the typical skipping-disc or friend-circuit approach: “Globalbpm” sounds like a remix of someone rubbing a balloon, while “12_11_13_Lv_1_C” recontextualizes a snippet of human speech as something that can sound just as cold and abstract as the surrounding mechanical glitches. And there’s a fascinating interplay between melody and atonal dissonance exhibited on tracks like “1210_08_Lv_4+,” in which beeps and screeches form a strange sort of harmony that sounds alien and robotic but is nonetheless decidedly musical.

As one half of the acclaimed Finnish experimental duo Pan Sonic, Mika Vainio is no stranger to pushing the limits of electronica. But this solo release is something else entirely, a starker and more unsettling beast than anything that duo has created. Beginning with an ominous, lonely clank, Magnetite juxtaposes eerie silence with blasts of digital noise; deep bass tones and bursts of radio static parry with cavernous whooshes, thunderous and distant plodding, bell-like tones, and occasional beeps that sound creepily facile by contrast. If Michael Myers sought to make a “dark ambient” album, this would probably be the result. Like his plain white Halloween mask, this album is staunchly minimal yet nonetheless terrifying. And both seem to be unpredictable, unstoppable forces. Most of all, Magnetite succeeds by making its most unnerving moments not its loudest shrieks or busiest passages but rather its many moments of quiet, the listener breathlessly anticipating what’s going to break the silence (and usually getting it wrong). Despite all this, Magnetite is far from an unpleasant experience; as is the case with great horror movies like Halloween, there’s something undeniably fascinating about the terror we witness that brings us back again and again. Vainio does his job mercilessly well, no telephone cord necessary.

A bricoleur is defined as “one who engages in bricolage,” or “construction (as of a sculpture or a structure of ideas) achieved by using whatever comes to hand.” Robert Scott Thompson, who heads the Center for Audio Recording Arts at Georgia State University’s School of Music, certainly assembles a bricolage of sounds, moods, and influences, from ambient space music synths to clattering field recordings to modern classical strings, bass flute, and piano. This is an audio collage that respects the individuality of its disparate elements while effectively working them into a coherent whole. A truly abstract work, Play Is the Supreme confronts the listener with the prospect of unrestrained sound. It’s also a remarkably deep recording; Thompson clearly puts his studio expertise to good use, crafting an album that densely teems with activity guided by the experienced hand of a compositional veteran. This album’s cover seems to depict an alchemist at work, and that’s just what Thompson is. These constructions may be “transient,” but they’re certainly not forgettable.

Julian Cope is a British rock musician who first rose to prominence as a founding member of the post-punk band The Teardrop Explodes. More than thirty years later, here he is with Woden, which his website describes as a “thirteen-year-old sonic monolith” and an “enormous meteorological cloud of music.” Largely composed using a single synthesizer, this 72-minute composition nonetheless sounds absolutely otherworldly–or perhaps underworldly, given Cope’s interest in Neolithic paganism. What sounds like a rushing wind tunnel envelopes the entire track, with excursions into Eliane Radigue-esque digital minimalism and the haunting medieval echoes of “the Yatesbury bellringers of 1998.” The end result comes across as anything but electronic, at times sounding downright ancient. Fans of Xela’s cassette trilogy (The Illuminated, The Divine, The Sublime) and Kevin Drumm’s omnipresent drones, take note: Woden beckons, though it won’t raise its voice to grab your attention.

Like Tim Hecker’s widely praised Ravedeath, 1972, this album was recorded in a church. In both cases, the majestic setting such a building provides seeps into the music, which in this case is a six-track album largely performed by a string quintet. Opening with a plaintive three-part suite (“Apollo Winceleseia”) presumably named after the East Sussex village where the church is located, Yclypt is as beautiful and melancholic as the autumnal forest depicted on its cover. At equal turns harmonious and dissonant, the strings play off each other in layered clusters of pitch and tone; low drones rumble beneath scratchy mid-range chords and intermittent soaring high-pitched notes, the latter of which appear most prominently on “Apollo Winceleseia III.” A panoply of playing styles keeps this half-hour record from ever sounding monochromatic, and Moult does a wonderful job of emphasizing the physical space in which these strings operate; we feel like we’re in the room with these performers, letting their tones wash over us instead of simply hearing recordings of such filtered through digital channels. Yclypt is capped off by the ten-minute “Symbol of an Infinite Past,” a languorous rumination that recalls the chilly sonorities of Brahms.

Bass. I embolden it to highlight the thickness of the instrument, the stark sonorous quality that makes it such a versatile instrument. It can provide the underpinning for the rhythm section of a rock song; it can ride under techno floor-fillers in analogue jabs; it can flow in quietly sparkling arpeggios on any number of jazz and blues records. It’s one of the most important instruments in a band’s arsenal, yet we never hear much of it on its own. Thankfully, Kentucky-born experimental musician Bill Laswell has over the course of his storied career worked to change that, exploring the nuances of the instrument’s timbre as it applies to music from genres as varied as dub, metal, and ambient trance. But with Means of Deliverance, he strips away the accoutrements, wielding only a fretless acoustic bass guitar and giving it a workout seeped in spacious silence and folk traditions. Yep, this is a ten-track collection of bass solos, and it’s absolutely beautiful. Laswell’s tones ring out with rich resonance; he deftly investigates the contours of his instrument with grace and, crucially, patience: he’s obviously a master of his craft, but he never feels the need to show off. There are no runaway jams or sliding scales to be found here; instead, we get a series of meditative explorations of the bass’s upper and lower registers (sometimes acting in unison). Sometimes, on the more “uptempo” moments here, like “Buhala,” it sounds more like Laswell’s providing the bassline for some timeless folk number than trying to show us how deftly he can fingerpick, and it doesn’t even matter that we can’t hear the other hypothetical instruments; he doesn’t need them, as these tracks sound fully-formed and thorough on their own. At other points, such as “Aeon” and “Epiphaneia,” he lets his bass buzz with complete disregard for genre or conventional form. Laswell can do many things with his bass, but his most consistent ability is letting it sing.

Tennis, anyone? This Italian dude samples sounds sourced from tennis matches, letting them effortlessly bleed into his atmospheric downtempo. On opening track “Wimbledon 1980,” for instance, the sound of a racket striking ball–with accompanying polite audience applause and intermittent grunts–provides the percussion, on top of which he applies delicate layers of synth pads and bass. “It must be one of the most epic tie-breaks played anywhere,” says one delightfully British announcer to another, describing John McEnroe’s well-fought loss to Björn Borg in the men’s sol final at the titular tournament. As the track fades out, we hear the announcer one last time: “What could be better?” Track two, “In the Streets,” uses decidedly more amateur source material, as distant hurried voices call out in some imagined scrimmage or pick-up exhibition and footsteps scuttle across the court (along with, of course, more volleys). “Golden Shoes” is a more delicate affair, with glassy keyboard tones volleying with crisp, hollow beats that recall–what else?–the sound of a confident forehand strike as well as an unexpected choir sample. “Deuce,” on the other hand, begins with the crinkling of old vinyl before introducing a grimey bassline and, uh, marimba accents. And house music handclaps? Are we still hearing tennis sounds here? Doesn’t matter; not even halfway through this album, we’re already sucked into Indian Wells’ dream world. The whole thing is like if Dntel were asked to contribute to a Jock Jams volume, or if the US Open asked Actress to pen its theme one year. Were it any longer, Night Drops might start to become an exercise in gimmickry; as it stands, however, at a lean 37.5 minutes, it’s a perfectly muted and sleek record of downtempo psychedelia (psychedelic downtempo?) that makes for smooth listening on and off the court.

On this album, Japanese guitarist Suzuki Junzo wails on his weapon of choice for, like, a fuckin’ hour. Drone, noise, blues, psychedelic rock, ambient, goddamn folk: Junzo approaches a variety of genre influences and proceeds to kick the shit out of each of them. “Shivering Larry’s Last Freak Out” riffs like Skullflower on Klonopin, while “Studies for Three Broken Canes of Dr. Dream” somehow makes howling screeches sound soothing and zen-like. Like the aforementioned Bill Laswell album, Ode To A Blue Ghost is entirely a solo affair, but whereas the former ekes out quiet overtones, Junzo absolutely obliterates his otherwise empty sonic environment with all the crunchy power his electric guitar can muster. That I don’t have more to say about this record is not an indication of anything but my inability to articulate coherent thoughts in the face of Junzo’s epic squalls. This is a good album to get drunk to. If I were still a teenager, I’d like to imagine I’d blast this album alone in my room, a classy take on adolescent angst. Alas, I’m just a twenty-something white dude who’s left to wonder what else is bubbling under the surface in Tokyo. Junzo is a rebel with a singular cause: rocking your face off. Damn, just thinking about this record makes me want a cigarette.

Step one: be Dutch. Step two: find an abandoned Indian harmonium in someone’s basement. Step three: play the harmonium, but don’t focus on the droning tones it produces. Instead, listen to the creaky machinations of the instrument itself: “cranky wooden panels, the squeaking metal pins, and the airwaves escaping from the dilapidated bellows.” Step four: balance the wheezing groans and cranking pumping motions with minimal tonal drifts floating in the background, the inverse of a typical harmonium performance (in which the resultant drones are the focus and the sounds of the instrument itself are an overlooked by-product). Step five: shatter the listener’s expectations of how we approach and appreciate sound and performance. Laboriously show how even in drone music, the medium can very well be the message. Glean poignancy from said creaky machinations. Take as long as you need; Kaelen plays for over an hour on this record. Step six: divide the recording into five pieces, give them cryptically abstract titles (“The Horse,” “The Dream”), and call them a “tragedy” even though it’s anything but. This album is desolate and dreary yet strangely life-affirming, a stunning testament to the merits of old-fashioned human intervention in an increasingly digital industry. The Tragedy That Drowned Itself is not concerned with “what” music sounds like but rather how that sound happens, and it turns out to be a fascinating story we didn’t even realize needed to be told.

I know literally nothing about this artist beyond the fact that he seems to be German, as evidenced by this album’s release on Roetgen-based label Blüthenstaub Musik. Oh, and this album’s title translates to “The Sorrows Of Young Louis Exitus.” That’s all I’ve got.

And that’s all we need to know. “Intimität” opens the disc with a precious, “Avril 14th”-esque piano phrase. Then, water runs; birds squawk; backmasked piano dripping with synth twinkles jolts the listener to attention; an echoing vibraphone appears, along with an innocuous plucked string section that sounds straight out of Leave It To Beaver. The track constantly seems to be rising to some blissful climax, but then it ends, a lone high-pitched piano note carrying us into track two, “Dein Blick Durchdringt Mich.” A crowd bustles in the background; a harp stutters to life; hearty, darker piano chords seem to herald an imminent beat drop, and we finally get it…in the form of ramshackle woodblocks that recede as suddenly as they appeared. A wash of noise. An actual drumbeat! It lasts for less than a minute.

We can still hear the crowd as well as the piano; ricocheting strings pop up at track’s end. “Wie Dein Herz Mich Trägt” begins with a manipulated acoustic guitar before being joined by shakers, bell-like keyboard, more birdsong, some buzzing insects, and synth-processed cello. The basic repeating melodic phrase is similar to what came before but also somehow different. This whole album progresses organically, each instrumental and harmonic passage arising from that which preceded it, building off what we’ve already heard while subtly prepping us for what’s to come. You know Splash Mountain? How it’s essentially a lazy river ride that ends in a massive steep slide? And how before the drop, we get disingenuously placid animatronics that pretty much retell the stories from Song of the South? Yeah, this album’s kind of like that, only instead of a single drop at the end, we just keep circling the rapids, bumping and rising and cascading our way through all manner of musical storytelling. Each chord passage is heartbreaking; half-remembered melodies float in and out of the listener’s consciousness, as in a dream. When the clap-and-stomp disco beat of “Deine Küsse Letzte Nacht” finally arrives, it’s a revelation, strings providing the most luscious and gorgeous dance music accompaniment since Pantha du Prince’s “Saturn Strobe.”

But LouisEX is far too restless to replicate that lengthy opus, and after a couple minutes, he’s done with it, returning to the backmasked instrumental treatments and windchimes and woodblocks and guitar of…before. Another uptempo beat arrives then pauses then bounces back while reverbed something (xylophone?) provides heavenly accompaniment. We’ve heard these moments before, but at the same time, we haven’t. Time works in strange ways on this album; without ever even approaching redundancy, LouisEX cycles through rhythms and moods with a child’s endless curiosity. Elements from one track mix with those from another to recall a third track’s tune, yet it’s all done in the service of producing something new. “Dann Bist Du Gegangen” melodically recalls the album’s first two tracks, but the jazzy, cymbal-heavy drumbeat is an unexpected twist. Then it cuts out, the plucked strings come back–somehow, this doesn’t sound disjointed at all–and…a man groans? What is going on here? Some themes fade out; others cease suddenly. That LouisEX is able to weave a coherent narrative out of these myriad sonic explorations–modern classical, ambient, glitch, house, folk–is remarkable. And his narrative is filled with home runs; the string section on “Alle Zeit Ungezählt,” for instance, would be enough to carry most techno tracks for a good few minutes at least, but in this case, their snappy rhythmic groove is interrupted then restarted, the musical equivalent of pulling out the cartridge and blowing on it before jamming it back into your Super Nintendo. After three minutes, we get rainfall and silence. We’re only halfway done at this point.

Birdsong and insect buzzing provide a thematic constant, casting an aura of wilderness discovery over the twinkling keys and other sundries. It feels like we’re happily, deliriously in the jungle; have we passed this circle of trees before? They all look kinda the same, but they’re also all different. This one’s got jutting branches that bend like human arms; that one’s got roots we haven’t heard before, a drumbeat that Prefuse 73 would die for; and just up ahead, we can smell the cottony colors of remorse and wistfulness and, strangely, hope. Splash! Have we jumpted in the river? Guitar and shaker. More marimba. I’m not sure whether these instruments are MIDI-produced or actually played. Either way, their variety is impressive, and their emotional range is breathtaking. The return of the delicate piano hammers, and then those aching strings. There’s a cyclical quality to the proceedings here, not so much a guiding focus as it is a seeming force of nature, like the roaring rivers and cries of wildlife that pepper and punctuate this album’s many moods.

Die Leiden Des Jungen Louis Exitus is a genre-hopping tour de force that’s an absolute joy to experience again and again. It’s not even an hour long, but its scope is as vast and distant as tomorrow’s glowing horizon. More than any album I’ve heard this year, Die Leiden sounds alive and teeming with possibilities. As I said earlier, I don’t know who LouisEX is (or whether he’s even a man, for that matter). But if this is what his sorrow sounds like, then can you imagine his happiness? The magic thing is that we can; it’s here, amidst the sadness and the excitement. I’ve been singing this album’s praises all year to anyone who will listen. In fact, if you Google it, a capsule review I wrote for another publication is the second result. But I wish it weren’t; I want Google to be brimming with results, with people talking about this album, with impressions and interpretations and analyses, and most of all, with the music itself. The sliding electric guitar on “Als Du Meine Hand Berührtest” builds into a psych-rock denouement that’s among the most cathartic moments on an album chock full of ‘em. Yet even here, that plaintive piano still makes its presence known. In LouisEX’s world, there’s no such thing as genre: only glorious sound.

The post Josh’s Top Weirdo Records of 2012 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Let me preface to say for the first time, I was unable to come up with a top albums list based on rankings, which may sound paradoxical since I have been more active than ever with the music scene – spending all morning trying to keep up with all the news from countless music sites. Consequently, this has afforded less time for me to listen to each individual record. You could say the list below (not in any particular order but a subconscious one) was by pure chance. In a parallel universe, I could have picked a whole other set of albums but in this dimension, these releases have conjured emotional connections that have had a profound impact on my cognition.

Released in October on Helsinki-based label, Soliti, the second album from the Finnish dream poppers lightly treads on the experimental, yet retains enough melody to hold onto the audience garnered from their flawless self-titled debut. Doze did not win me over at first but with each rotation, I was slowly falling in love with its ingenuity and sincerity. There are short songs, long songs, songs with lyrics and without, ballads and a fuzzed out jam – a variety that somehow coalesces into a cohesive album. Doze is a refreshing and encouraging piece in a singles-happy age.

The former member of The Coral surprised many with this gorgeous concept album heavily based in classical music. Promoted as an imaginary soundtrack to Italo Calvino’s If On A Winter’s Night A Traveler, Ryder-Jones’s debut album unearthed a world that is full of aural pleasures, evoking infinite impressions and imageries. This record has eased me into the dreamland on countless nights.

I didn’t know much about Liars before WIXIW came out. The band known to never make the same record twice churned out their most accessible album yet without sacrificing their integrity. From the hypnotic opener ”The Exact Colour of Doubt” to dance-punk urgency of “Brats”, Liars effortlessly takes you on a journey that you never want to end.

I like punk music – in a live setting. But you wouldn’t find me listening to it in the privacy of my home, car, or via headphones. That is until four Swedish lads concocted their own brand of punk with vintage synths and the right balance between angst and melody. I was smitten from the first spin, and realized I had been denying myself something innate.

The heartbroken Swede with some of the most witty lyrics around made his fans wait almost five years for his third LP. While some argue that I Know What Love Isn’t is not as dimensional as Lekman’s two previous efforts, I would say it is his most cogent and pleasurable album to date, precisely because Lekman keeps giving the same flavor song after song. This formula often falls victim to monotony but in Lekman’s case, it’s nothing short of indomitable beauty.

In another timeline, this album could have been produced in the early eighties to be put on a pedestal along with the works of The Waterboys or Orange Juice. On their third LP, Cat’s On Fire champions the vintage without feeling dated – a romanticism that never goes out of style. This Finnish band has been able to reach across Europe, but North Americans are still distant when bands like Of Monsters and Men are finding success here.

A chance meeting changed my perception. I had heard a couple of songs that sounded amicable enough, but I wasn’t in love until catching Mauro Remiddi (aka Porcelain Raft) in concert. After spending a little time with the artist behind the music, I was compelled to listen with ears wide open and realized how relatable these weightless pop songs were. Strangely, Strange Weekend gave me solace during a time in need.

This was the first album I chose to review in 2012, forcing myself to listen countless times. It’s another work that takes time to register its artistry. This record kind of sums up all my sentiments from the other albums on the list. It’s understated, ruminative, experimental, grand, yet there is a broken bridge to its core – I want to cross the gap to solve the mysterious aura of Rhine Gold, but somehow I know I am never going to get there. I suppose that’s the bulk of its appeal.

The post Autumn’s Favorite Records of 2012 appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

The xx

(66 plays)

Behind the scenes here at Beats Per Minute, we staged a huge debate about whether or not we’d throw a recommendation on The xx’s new record, Coexist. Our review was published today and, if you’ve seen it, you’ll see that it fell short of that label. But personally, I’ve found it to be one of the most thoroughly enjoyable records of the year. Is it a bit simplistic and formulaic? Sure. Does it move slowly? Absolutely. I can certainly understand where detractors are coming from. But I’ve been enjoying it immensely. It reminds me in some ways of James Blake’s 2011 debut: subtle, powerful, and resoundingly beautiful.

Grizzly Bear

(32 plays)

If you haven’t already checked out NPR’s First Listen of Shields, what are you waiting on? As much as I’ve enjoyed Yellow House and Veckatimest, I’ve never been completely head over heels for Grizzly Bear. I’m not sure Shields is the album that will make me take the leap. But without a doubt, I’m enjoying the new record — “A Simple Answer” is a track I’ve come back to again and again — and feel like it could end up ranked among the year’s best. And, yeah, we’re discussing privately whether or not we want to bestow a recommendation upon it. Rare is the big release that doesn’t come with reasonable dissension.

The Decemberists

(20 plays)

I finally got around to listening to We All Raise Our Voices to the Air, the live compilation The Decemberists put out in March. The verdict? I’m not that impressed. The live recordings certainly sound great and I could listen to Colin Meloy’s stage banter all day, but the track list just doesn’t impress me very much. Sorry, but I just can’t get down with a 20-cut live album that completely omits The Hazards of Love. And where is “Sons and Daughters”? Come on.

Ray LaMontagne & The Pariah Dogs

(20 plays)

The more I listen to God Willin’ and the Creek Don’t Rise, the more I love it. Ray LaMontagne’s first self-produced record — and his first with The Pariah Dogs backing him — initially felt like a bit of a step backward to me. I quickly adopted it as another great addition to his discography, but it’s only since become warmer with time. We don’t give this artist nearly enough (if any) recognition here, so I’m obliged to use this minimal space to urge you to spend some time with his catalog. There’s a hell of a lot more to LaMontagne than “Trouble,” the song featured in numerous television episodes and that cute dog food commercial. He has one of the most soulful voices in music since Sam Cooke. How’s that for a recommendation?

Burial

(13 plays)

Is this guy ever going to drop another album?

Tame Impala

(12 plays)

Earlier this week, I got my very first taste of Lonerism, Tame Impala’s forthcoming sophomore record. At first listen, I can say with certainty that it’s an album worthy of repeated listens. It is clearly a progression. But I’m not ready to anoint it as Innerspeaker‘s superior. The one thing urging my restraint is the seemingly unnecessary layers that occasionally crop up on the new record. You know how Animal Collective and their many impersonators sometimes go one sound or instrument too far? Lonerism has a bit of that going on. Though clearly, one listen is hardly enough to draw wide conclusions.

Josh Ritter

(11 plays)

If you haven’t already exposed yourself to Josh Ritter’s immense catalog, you should. I can’t tout his voice in the way that I did for LaMontagne, but I can say that Ritter’s songwriting is widely unapproached by modern music. If you need proof, give “The Temptation of Adam” a listen with the lyrics in front of you. It’ll knock you off your feet. And that’s barely scraping the surface.

Band of Horses

(11 plays)

Having seen these guys put on a killer performance in support of My Morning Jacket recently, it’s safe to say I’ve been on a bit of a Band of Horses kick recently. I’ve even dug a little back into Infinite Arms, which, though widely viewed as a disappointment, was certainly not without a hand full of standout individual tracks. This week, I got my ears on Mirage Rock, the band’s fourth album. And here’s the bottom line: if you were disappointed by Infinite Arms, you’re going to question your faith after hearing Mirage Rock. Singular disappointment has now become a trend, and I’m not sure any popular band has fallen as quickly as Band of Horses have from 2007′s Cease to Begin to now.

The post Last 7 Days (09/14/12) appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

GRIZZLY BEAR

(31 plays)

Can we not bullshit about Shields, please? I mean, I understand that there are certain ethical issues to be taken into account when discussing albums that have leaked, but I’m not going to pretend I haven’t heard this record. I have. It’s another excellent effort from these guys. This is easily one of BPM’s most anticipated releases of 2012, and I believe it lives up to its lofty expectations. It’s cohesive, extremely well-sequenced, and the songs are of such high quality and sound so irrefutably like Grizzly Bear, it’s hard to imagine fans of Veckatimest being disappointed.

FLYING LOTUS

(28 plays)

Another one of our most anticipated releases here at BPM is Flying Lotus’ Until The Quiet Comes. This week, FlyLo released a short film of the same title, featuring snippets of three tracks from the album that each sound heavenly. This had me going back to his last two efforts, Los Angeles and Cosmogramma, both of which are still among my favorite albums released in their years. FlyLo is truly a master of his craft, effortlessly blending styles ranging from hip hop to jazz to ambient to soul, and so it is with great eagerness that we await Until The Quiet Comes.

COCTEAU TWINS

(25 plays)

The Cocteau Twins must surely be among the most influential acts for this current surge of shoegaze and dream-pop artists we’re experiencing. Pairing whimsically unintelligible vocals with crystalline, cavernous instrumentals, they were one the definitive artists for 4AD and the band I’m most frequently reminded of when listening to releases from current dream-pop labels such Captured Tracks. The album I’ve been listening to this week is their most recognized, Treasure, which features several now-classic tracks such as “Ivo” and “Lorelai” that still hit my shoegaze sweet spot as well as any current artists do.

STARS

(15 plays)

These plays stem from my listening to Stars’ latest effort, The North, along with a few cursory plays of my favorite earlier tracks of theirs. At times I’ve found Stars to be a little cheesy, both lyrically and musically, but they’re still able to strike a chord with me emotionally, which is all that really matters.

JOEY BADA$$

(15 plays)

If you talked about any young rapper this week, it was most likely Chief Keef, who sparked an outrage by reacting rather despicably to fellow teenage MC Lil Jojo’s murder just a few days ago. But on the other end of the spectrum is Joey Bada$$, a 17 year old New Yorker who quietly released his second mixtape of the year yesterday, Rejex, consisting of songs that didn’t end up on the excellent first one, 1999. Both mixtapes sound irrevocably like good 90’s New York rap records, which makes the young MC a big draw in my book.

ANDREW W.K.

(14 plays)

Andrew W.K. has seen a bit of a resurgence this week thanks to the reissue of his polarizing party record I Get Wet. I have little to add to the conversation comparing this album’s current standing among the snobbish indie community to its original reception, but I will say that I think I benefit from my youth when listening to I Get Wet, because I don’t have the kind of knee-jerk reaction to hair metal that most people who lived through that genre’s peak do. Party on.

TAME IMPALA

(14 plays)

Australian psych-rockers Tame Impala have been a personal favorite of mine ever since I first heard their incredible debut album, Innerspeaker, after hearing rumblings that they were blowing MGMT out of the water night-after-night on their opening tour for them. I didn’t get to catch them live until Lollapalooza this year, but when I finally did, it was well worth the wait. Tame Impala are masters at weaving psychedelic soundscapes together, and their upcoming sophomore effort, Lonerism, promises more of the same excellence in this field.

ALUNAGEORGE

(14 plays)

I’ve been helplessly addicted to AlunaGeorge’s new single, “Your Drums, Your Love,” for over a week now. It’s probably the best electronic earworm I’ve heard this year, taking the warped synths recently perfected by Purity Ring and turning them upside down with Burial-like beats and incredibly juicy vocal hooks. It hits the sweet spot for this kind of music perfectly for me; there’s nothing else I can say about it.

The post Last 7 Days (09/07/12) appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Need a playlist for when you’re running around Baltimore and raiding stash houses? Omar’s got you covered. Check out the playlist below or stream the whole playlist over on Spotify.

2pac, “Unconditional Love”
Nas, “Let There be Light”
Young Jeezy, “Dreamin’”
Mary J. Blige, “My Life”
Lauryn Hill, “Oh Jerusalem”
Jay-Z, “You Must Love Me”
2pac, “So Many Tears”
Biggie Smalls “Suicidal Thoughts”
Young Jeezy “Bury me a G”
Jay-Z, “Oh My God”
Biggie Smalls, “Who Shot Ya”
2pac, “Against All Odds”
Biggie Smalls, “Everyday Struggle”
Nas, “One Mic”
Lauryn Hill, “War in the Mind”
Common, “It’s Your World”
Lauryn Hill, “Mystery of Iniquity”
Meshell Ndegeocello, “Akel Dama (Field of Blood)”
Lauryn Hill, “I Gotta Find Peace of Mind”
2pac, “Dear Mama”
Sun Tan “Sunscreen”

Just remember if you come at the king, you best not miss.

[Via Vulture]

The post Michael K. Williams AKA Omar from The Wire Reveals the Mix He Made for His Character appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

So this has been my go-to Beastie Boys track since MCA’s passing. Between the all-around great rapping, MCA’s all-encompassing zen philosophy on display, the Bad Brains sample, Jimmy Walker, and Mike D messing up his “rehearsal” line, it’s hard to not call it my favorite track from the Beasties.

Get up and groove with the rhythm in your soul…

The post Time Capsule: Beastie Boys – “Pass the Mic” [1992] appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Last 7 Days is a returning series here on The Metronome that uses last.fm to chronicle the artists and albums that have made up the last week’s worth of listening for one of our staff members. This week, Eric Arredondo shares the listening habits that made up his week.

Frank Ocean

(12 plays)

Now, its my first time back to California in months, and my favorite thing to do is drive through the streets of LA listening to music. Preferably, with a burned CD in the car stereo, no skips allowed (hence my low play count this week). Lately, there’s no one better for such a thing than Frank Ocean. From the infectious bass line of “Songs for Women” to the quiet guitar on “Pink Matter,” Ocean’s skilled songwriting matched with his strong voice provides the perfect summer soundtrack. I’ve had Channel Orange on repeat since it debuted, and Nostalgia, Ultra is a modern classic in my opinion. But Frank Ocean still has room to grow, and we should all be excited for what that means for R&B music.

Shabazz Palaces

(12 plays)

I’ll admit that I came very late to Shabazz Palaces. I’d seen them mentioned across the internet, my friends and fellow BPM writers raving about them, but I just never sought out any of their material. But when I finally did, boy did I binge listen. The kind of sounds that Shabazz Palaces creates on Black Up are staggering and hypnotizing. I can listen to them rap over space-like beats for hours, and not even realize it.

Kid Cudi

(10 plays)

Man, I miss Cudi. There was a time when I would not hesitate to declare Kid Cudi as my favorite rapper. His catchy hooks and melodic rapping struck a chord with me like no other hip-hop was at the time. But as Cudi grew as an artist, he pulled away from the fun sound that originally drew me to him. This past week I’ve been blasting some old favorites like “Make Her Say” and “Day N Nite,” along with some greatness off of his mixtape, sush as “Cudi Get” and “”Save My Soul.”

Usher

(6 plays)

There is nothing like an “almost-there” album to get you to listen to a great one. This year’s Looking 4 Myself was by no means a bad album, and “Climax” is easily one of my favorite songs of the year, but Usher’s latest offering was unable to overcome the hurdle of surpassing Confessions. I listen to Confessions, and I have a nostalgic connection with almost each song: it’s the album that made me love R&B music. But no matter what, Usher has been creating quality R&B for quite sometimes, and all his albums demand some playtime (unless you’re counting the 2 albums immediately after Confessions, which I try my best not to).

Danny Brown

(4 plays)

It’s a shame that last.fm can’t scrobble directly from my car stereo, because ‘4 plays’ does not do justice in any way to how much Danny Brown I listened to this week. Often, I would finish listening (read as: obnoxiously screaming along) to “Grown Up,” only to hit repeat immediately. With his distinct drawl and unabashedly honest lyrics, Danny Brown represents some of the weirder sides of modern hip-hop. But he’d be the first to tell you that he is a freaky dude, which makes him all the more entertaining to listen to.

Balam Acab

(4 plays)

Its hard to find music as simple and simultaneously complex as Balam Acab’s production, from his haunting remix of Lana Del Rey’s “Video Games” to his full length Wander/Wonder. Mixing in traditional sounds with samples of splashing water, Balam Acab creates outside of the clichéd norm, and is worth a listen from everyone for simply that.

A$AP Rocky

(4 plays)

Few hip-hop albums grabbed my attention in the past year more so than A$AP Rocky’s LiveLoveA$AP. With a sound crafted by Clams Casino, A$AP Rocky raps amongst the best of them, over a slew of amazing beats that transcend normal rap intrumentals. Clams Casino’s production is top notch, so much so that he could probably release his instrumentals as their own albums… wait, he did (twice).

Domo Genesis x Alchemist

(4 plays)

The latest release from Odd Future, Domo Genesis and the Alchemist’s No Idols, is easily one of the strongest albums to come out of the LA collective. Once again, The Alchemist proves that he is the best at what he does, and these beats are amazing: the horn intro that fades into the steady riding piano sample in “The Daily News” is subtle and yet shifts the song in a startling way. Domo Genesis is good overall with some clever wordplay, but in the end he doesn’t live up to the promise of Alchemist’s production.

The post Last 7 Days (08/24/12) appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Last 7 Days is a returning series here on The Metronome that uses last.fm to chronicle the artists and albums that have made up the last week’s worth of listening for one of our staff members. This week, Colin Joyce, or outtasiteoutta, shares the listening habits that made up his week.

Merchandise

(72 plays)

If you ask the powers that be in the Central Florida music scene, it would appear that Merchandise have pretty much come out of nowhere. They’ve shunned the usual route of opening for national acts on their Tampa and Orlando in favor of some infamous Warehouse and Record Store performances. Though their rapid rise to relative notability may come as a shock to, well, most of the people engrained in the music scene in those parts, both their 2012 post punk influenced effort, Children of Desire, and the more shoegaze inflected tunes of 2010’s, Strange Songs (In The Dark) beg to be noticed. Though Merchandise may not have sought the attention, these tracks indicate that they deserve every bit of it.

Merchandise on Spotify.

Lotus Plaza

(40 plays)

Now to speak in less hyperbolic terms. I’ve always been a fan of Lockett Pundt’s contributions to the Deerhunter canon (as well as his debut solo effort The Floodlight Collective), but I found myself initially underwhelmed by Spooky Action at A Distance. Looking back on that first impression, after seeing Pundt’s rain-drenched set at this years Pitchfork Festival, I can only see what a fool I was. Especially on this new record, Pundt has asserted himself as an outstanding songwriter, even without the goofy buoy that Bradford Cox would appear to be. “Strangers” and “Jet Out Of The Tundra” in particular prove Pundt’s singular songwriting voice. Though it may be an unassuming sound, lazy guitar pop dressed in heavy reverb and other distinctly dreamy trappings, Pundt has here crafted what may be his best work to date, and I foresee this one sticking in my listening habits for quite a while.

Lotus Plaza on Spotify.

Slowdive

(38 plays)

In preparation for our coming 90s features (look out for those soon), I’ve taken to spinning a few records from one of my absolute favorite acts of all time. I’ll be expounding more on my ever-growing affinity for Slowdive elsewhere, but here an admonition. If you’ve never taken the time to listen to Souvlaki and Pygmalion, do so right now. It comes with the obvious disclaimer that not everyone will develop the same emotional connection to everything, but these are two albums that changed my life. Who cares if they were the shoegaze band that the music press chose to dump on during their original run? This is some seriously affecting stuff and you deserve to have this band in your life.

Slowdive on Spotify.

Nick Drake

(37 plays)

The same over the top words of praise could very easily be piled upon Nick Drake. And really what else can I say that hasn’t already been said. Though it took Volkswagen commercials for him to come to the widespread acclaim he so deserved, there’s no disputing the immense emotional force behind tracks like “Place To Be” and “Things Behind The Sun”. There’s those who hold Pink Moon as nothing short of sacred, and I think I’m getting closer and closer to feeling the exact same.

Nick Drake on Spotify.

Melody’s Echo Chamber

(32 plays)

I’ve made no secret how much I’m in love with Melody’s Echo Chamber’s “Crystallized”. It’s the rare track that gives insight into a band’s staying power, even from the very beginning. Just from a few cursory spins of the single, the comparisons to Stereolab and Broadcast seem apt, even selling short Melody Prochet’s uniquely spacey pop songs. Even with only two proper songs to her name, she’ll be one to watch out for, that’s for sure.

Sorry, Melody’s Echo Chamber is currently unavailable on Spotify.

The Babies

(26 plays)

Because of the incredibly insular scene that is Brooklyn’s DIY circuit, I found myself in the rare position of having seen The Babies, Kevin Morby (of Woods) and Cassie Ramone’s (of Vivian Girls) collaborative project, open for various acts before I heard a single song of theirs. They put on a raucous sort of drunken indie rock that, in both instances, instigated a communal indie kid mosh pit. Couple that with the easy singalongs of “Meet Me In The City” and “Breakin’ The Law”, they put on one of the most downright fun live sets in which I’ve ever had the chance to participate. Their recorded material too, is heavy on looseness and good vibes, and is certainly worth a your time.

The Babies on Spotify.

Mac DeMarco

(22 plays)

He’s already put out one deceptively outstanding EP this year, and now with the release of “My Kind Of Woman” he’s poised to release an album on Captured Tracks that supersedes the success of that first work. These are just endlessly re-playable tracks. Similar to the decrepit cool of Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train, DeMarco’s material treads the line between sleazy guitar rock and 50s crooner inflected earnestness. These tracks embody the downtrodden downtown Memphis, Elvis impersonators and all.

Mac DeMarco on Spotify.

Twin Sister

(21 plays)

I’ve never fully been able to pinpoint why, but I’ve always found something about Andrea Estrella’s voice incredibly comforting. Perhaps that’s why even a full two years after its release I’m still head over heels in love with Twin Sister’s EP Color Your Life. Though it took time, I’ve developed similar feelings for last year’s In Heaven. It’s certainly enough to occupy my time until they give us more.

Twin Sister on Spotify.

The post Last 7 Days (08/17/12) appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Last 7 Days is a returning series here on The Metronome that uses last.fm to chronicle the artists and albums that have made up the last week’s worth of listening for one of our staff members. This week, Andrew Halverson, or halveraptor, shares the listening habits that made up his week.

Mount Eerie

(78 plays)

These new Mount Eerie albums are items to behold. Always unpredictable, Phil Elverum creates a continuous sweep of acoustics, drone, synth, and atmospheric black metal (more than ever, might I add) and it’s intense in ways only Mount Eerie can achieve. I’ve been listening to The Microphones/Mount Eerie since the first of my music-enthused days and I’m still amazed at what this guy can do on albums.

Mount Eerie on Spotify.

Frank Ocean

(42 plays)

I’m fairly certain that Channel Orange is going to be in my album rotation for a long time, just judging from the last month. He’s received praise left and right for very good reasons — be it his songwriting, impressive voice, and overall social-awareness — people are just drawn to him. Not only that, he’s bold and not afraid to step outside of R&B conventions, which is the biggest reason I think he’s brilliant.

Frank Ocean on Spotify.

Akron/Family

(36 plays)

I may be one of the biggest fans of Akron/Family at this point in time. About six days ago, I was returning home from a significant drive up the I-5, and for a solid amount of time I listened to a few Akron/Family albums. The moment “Running Returning” hits on their self-titled album, I am absolutely motivated once again to get through the next six hours of driving. There’s something about their music that acknowledges sadness but drenches it in a couple layers of hope so they can step down to a highway driver’s level of relief to let them know they’re on their way home.

Akron/Family on Spotify.

Yeasayer

(27 plays)

This band has been a particularly interesting beast to me. I love All Hour Cymbals with all my heart but Odd Blood just didn’t quite do it for me. Then I heard Fragrant World, an album that carries similarities between both albums plus the R&B vibe that no one has done quite right until now. It’s subtle enough to work for the band rather than against them on the new record and it reignited my once-powerful reverence for Yeasayer.

Yeasayer on Spotify.

Smog

(22 plays)

A couple days ago I went to the Vogue Theatre in San Francisco to see a showing of the new Bill Callahan tour documentary, Apocalypse. It doesn’t up-play the man that is Bill Callahan but every moment you get to hear him speak feels pure and focused, but with a weakness that you don’t normally get to see these days. That weakness, however, is ever present in his music as Smog, which is exactly what I was inspired to listen to after viewing that film. If you ever have a chance to see it, take it.

Smog on Spotify.

Dan Deacon

(18 plays)

I was quite recently introduced to Dan Deacon and now I feel like I was missing out on some wonderfully huge-sounding electronic music. The tom hits that go along with his screechy synth and samples just add to the breadth of what this guy can do on computers and it always, in some way, ends up sounding triumphant. Get me more Deacon, guys.

Dan Deacon on Spotify.

Japandroids

(14 plays)

Yep, Celebration Rock is still awesome, in case you were wondering.

Japandroids on Spotify.

Mesita

(14 plays)

Since its release, I’ve constantly come back to The Coyote. Its beauty and boldness is something you don’t get out of a lot of artists that work on their own, but it feels so much bigger than it is–and it’s not difficult to find something new to love with every listen.

Mesita on Spotify.

The post Last 7 Days (08/10/12) appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

I’m not the best at keeping up with mix podcasts week-to-week, but, fortunately, I was alerted to the incredible mix UK garage / house artist Graphics dropped on XLR8R at the end of June. The reason I want to mention it here is it’s comprised entirely of original and unreleased works by Graphics, functioning as tight, continuous patchwork debut. And it’s kind of unbelievable. Like debut-of-the-year unbelievable. The liquid dark atmosphere of the mix is incredibly immersive amongst its ghostly vocal samples, skittering percussion, and Chicago house synth hooks. It gets more remarkable the further in you go, anthemic, skyward melodies and climactic vocal centerpieces abound. Not to mention its warped, clanging experimental tendencies. “Black Ice” (I think that’s the track – the one with the vocalist and hand drums) is worthy of a cut of the year contender. Gah, it’s just so good. Head over to XLR8R to grab the thing right now.

The post Graphics XLR8R Podcast appeared first on Beats Per Minute.

Mount Weezy, anyone?

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#HELLOBPM!

We’re back with a new t-shirt design for b-ball enthusiasts. Help support the site and pre-order one here. Only $10 with shipping within the US.

Thank you.

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Look no further.

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