[Note: This list is devoted to albums we've reviewed on our humble site in the first six months of our existence. For even more Best Of selections, check out yeterday's "Best Albums of 2010 We Missed (So Far...)." ALSO: Check out the playlist at the bottom of this list to hear all the bands we feature today for yourselves!]
Today is June 11, 2010. This day may not seem particularly important or auspicious to anyone else, and it proabably shouldn’t; even for those who are keeping track of this site, the official launch date of AudioSuede.com was January 21. However, before some technological issues threatened to kill the whole project before it got started, the original planned start date for AudioSuede was January 10.
Therefore, mentally, even though it isn’t, today still feels like the six-month anniversary of AudioSuede to me. From our Day One round of “End of the Year” and “End of the Decade” lists through this week’s cavalcade of the best and brightest in new music and at all points in between, AudioSuede has been a labor of love and an all-around wonderful experience for me. Even when things have gotten difficult, or scheduling has been bleak/impossible, or when we received a cease-and-desist letter over a mistake (that was a good day), I’ve had a blast making this site, which has been a dream of mine for years, a reality.
The freedom of running our own music website has its drawbacks (specifically: 1. Getting people to look at the damn thing is a pain, and 2. We bear the responsibility of remaining accountable and integritous in a blog world where rumor trumps fact for simply being more interesting and bitchiness overrides logic and reasoning because it’s more fun to write), but the pride I have over this site is irreplaceable.
Also, without the wonderful staff writers who contribute, without pay, to make sure our readers have interesting and worthwhile content, I could never have seen this vision become real, as I would have easily burnt out or completely given up before it took off. So thank you to everyone who’s ever written for our site: Chris Polley, Felicia, Dan Wipert, Caspar Salmon, Cooper Foyt, and Josh Erhart. You’ve made this last six months a reality, and I couldn’t be happier about the work you’ve done.
To celebrate the first half year of existence, we present a roundup of the best albums we’ve reviewed so far this year. Included is a short excerpt from each review of these albums, with a link to the main review elsewhere on the site.
Thanks to all of you who’re reading this now, and I hope you’ll continue to stick with us through the ups and downs of music journalism as we grow, expand, and experiment with new and better ways to provide you with music criticism and writing that is worth your time.
Thanks, and check back next week for even more goodness as we plow forward through the last half of our first year!
-Christian Hagen
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The Best Albums of 2010 (So Far…)
By: The AudioSuede Staff
It’s so easy to get behind and become lost in the sound of The Black Keys, and “These Days” seems to epitomize the reasons why: Without breaking the mold, Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney show an extreme sensitivity to and passion for the genres to which they are essentially paying tribute, and this makes these genres not only palatable but actively exciting to hear. The Black Keys might not be the best band of all time, but when it comes to presenting the blues to a new generation, few do it better, and by that standard, some might just consider them destined for greatness.
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Maybe this is the reason for the name change. Burton, after years behind the mask of Danger Mouse, has found the antithesis of his working partners. Whereas Cee-Lo is loud and bursting with in-your-face talent, whereas artists like Beck and Damon Albarn are practically larger-than-life, James Mercer is the perfect balance to Burton’s quiet sensibilities; soft-hearted, strong-throated, and willing to be in front of the lights while Burton sits behind his well-used computer screen, but only to the point that they are left in shadow together. We wait with bated breath for what’s next.
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Future Islands, In Evening Air
There are albums, while not revolutionary or life-changing in retrospect, that serve the very important purpose of revitalizing me as a music listener when I first sit through and enjoy every second of every song on the record. Ultimately, yes, it’s just solidly composed rock music with incredible dollops of energy and rip-roaring passion, but sometimes that’s enough. Not every off-kilter collection of rock tracks also has to be filled with epiphanies to earn its spot in the indie canon. This applies to Future Islands, the Baltimore band responsible for In Evening Air, as much as it does similar records from the past decade like Apologies to the Queen Mary by Wolf Parade and Wilderness by Wilderness, with its gruff breathy vocals growling over gorgeous but dirty instrumentation, but what’s more notable here is how the songs so effortlessly flow into each other while also holding their own. Each track has a very distinct and succinct mood that burrows directly into your skull, but at the same time also complements its previous and successive tracks in such cohesive fashion that the band’s work doesn’t sound as meticulous as it does serendipitous. And all this comes through as quickly as it takes to hear the opening bars of album kick-starter and highlight “Walking Through That Door”, much less every track that follows it.
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Jonsi knows how to combine the elements of electronic and organic perfectly, coming off as a lovechild of the likes of Radiohead and Imogen Heap. The entire album has a floating feeling to it, and generally it gives such good vibes it’s impossible to come away from it without feeling a sense of power and happiness. While the music itself is a bit of a departure from the Sigur Ros style, in that it is a bit more meaningful and at times almost poppy, it still retains the ambient beauty of the band. The music is played with such passion, and the singing brings tears to your eyes in a way that cannot be explained. The album is impossible to not recommend to anyone who enjoys music, even if they do not understand Icelandic (or for that matter, Jonsi’s English), or have never heard of Sigur Ros.
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It’s a remarkably cohesive collection of tracks that never veer off into experimentation or eclecticism, but manages to hold the listener’s attention enough so that their voice doesn’t get old after ten songs. Some of the tracks lack the immediate attention-grabbing exhilaration of the aforementioned single, such as “Harmonix” and “Slow Jabroni” (though even the title of the latter prepares us for something a little more downbeat), but overall these guys know how to work the pop rock formula for their benefit.
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The Tallest Man on Earth, The Wild Hunt
As each track bears its unique weight, the meaning of each may vary easily from listener to listener. A native Swede, Matsson’s grasp of the English language is surprisingly deep; it’s unlikely that one could unravel the symbolism and metaphor of his lyrics in one sitting. And this is only one of the many reasons that Matsson resembles the second coming of the great folk artists of the early-to-mid 20th century. Stylistically, he favors the sound of the traveling minstrel, expelling a profound refrain wherever an instrument is to be found on his journeys. Musically, his performance hits the great range of musical emotion. He compels a listener through the depths of his saddened imagination and lets them soar with him through an air of wonder and beauty. If it seems like Matsson has brought the hopeless romantic out of me, I can’t help it; his voice and poetry is so evocative that one willing to spend the time in his work may find himself or herself at least temporarily transformed.
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Throughout all of the depressing scenes and intense feelings of longing present on the album, Josiah remains a solid center of patience and dedication. The patience is tangible in the way the album unfolds. There are no big hooks here, no breakdowns, and no gimmicks being employed to get his point across. All he offers are 12 impassioned songs of pure human feeling on album he recorded in virtual secrecy from everyone else in his life. The private origins really shine through and add a sense of sincerity that prevents any of the songs from becoming groan-worthy. It’s intentionally slow because the man who made it is naturally tempered, but this only makes for a more rewarding experience as the songs unfurl themselves over several listens. A definite grower and a strong first showing from Josiah Wolf; he has created an album that endears and teaches, one that entertains and challenges us all to be better people.
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Xiu Xiu, Dear God I Hate Myself
DGIHM, for all intents and purposes, is the sonic summation of what Xiu Xiu has been doing for the last several years. The elements of each album from Knife Play to Fabulous Muscles to Women as Lovers can easily be seen here and it is completely to the benefit of the listener. In the same way that Merriweather Post Pavillion was Animal Collective’s most accessible album to date, Xiu Xiu have crafted an album that is readily listenable by a wider audience than would otherwise listen to them. DGIHM is unabashedly wearing its heart on its sleeve. It aggressively confronts you with the fucked up and makes you dance to it. It’s an album that feels exciting to listen to for a first time, and to discover new ticks on subsequent listen; both instantly pleasurable and slow-burn gratifying. It’s an album built on pure unadulterated pathos and it’s every bit as terrifying and beautiful as anything Xiu Xiu have ever produced. Sure, it may be bombastic and melodramatic at times, but so are we, and sometimes we just need that cathartic release.
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Youth Pictures of Florence Henderson, Youth Pictures of Florence Henderson
Because Norway’s Youth Pictures of Florence Henderson obviously have no interest in the game of genre politics, they can be unapologetically emo without even thinking they’d ever be accused of having to apologize for anything so arbitrary or silly. The record is stuffed with the most satisfyingly sprawling songs I’ve heard in years, and while it never is catchy enough to be considered pop music, nor is it concerned enough with the current trends of indie to even be part of that spectrum, the band does wear its influences on its sleeve. This is something that is ever increasingly hard to do for any band that wants to get noticed, because it’s usually so easy to call any young band out for mimicking, especially when what they’re mimicking is not even hip. But the men of YPOFH do it with such grace and efficacy that you can tell that they really truly do not care one iota about preconceptions, trying to make it, or trying to be different. They only care about what really matters most when listening to music: beauty and feeling.