This is a bit late, but for good reason. I don’t really know how to write about music without coming off as an insincere twat. I’m beginning to truly believe that the more a writer uses the words “incredible” and “interesting” as adjectives to describe a certain topic the less he or she actually knows about it. Think Thomas Haden Church’s character in Sideways feigning sophistication after he sucks down a splash of red wine. Maybe that’s a bad analogy. I still feel like a twat.
My initial inclination was to start this off with some drivelly bullshit about how “2009 was a great year for music, guyz.” While googling synonyms for “great” and “music”, however, I had somewhat of an epiphany—2009 was not a great year for music at all. I’m not even sure what the sentence “2009 was a great year for music” means, or if its even syntactically intelligible.
But really—a reoccurring theme in my life right now, as it undoubtedly is in the lives of most 21st century humans, is how easily and quickly such a plethora of information can be accessed via the internet. Here’s a link for those of you who don’t know what the internet is. Anyway. So this internet, you know, it makes accessible this massive, ever-expanding information database that, potentially, nearly everyone can access. Yeah, it’s great for most things. Maybe not so much for music.
This isn’t about any piracy’s effect on artistic integrity and profits or anything like that. I don’t feel like going into the inherently doomed relationship between art and money (though I will tell you it is inherently doomed.) This is more about the disgusting abundance of absolute nonsense available for listen on the internets. It used to be that the only real enemy was the trite garbage MTV thought they could peddle to the corporate-tit sucking nerfherders (hipsterbole). Now, despite MTV’s best efforts to maintain its shit spewing monopoly, the consumer’s real enemy is itself.
“Indie” music has reached the tipping point, for the most part. While “indie” music has, since its genesis, blatantly embodied a certain nonconformist counterculturism, it was rarely the actual music’s primary concern. The focus was on music as art, as something to dance to, as something intellectually sincere, as something “sonically intriguing.” Music, as a form, is impossible to apply practical purpose to, but I don’t think I’d be alone claiming it has some cerebral utility. Yeah.
A good portion of music tagged “indie” following the internet’s rise to glory has focused less this “cerebral utility” outlined above, and has instead made sounding or simply being artistically ironic the primary creative concern. This is probably due to the anxiety brought about by how insignificant the internet makes certain people feel. You know—“everything’s been done before—so let’s either completely copy it or mix it with Elliot Smith” Jerry Garcia said: “And for me there’s still more material than 20 lifetimes that I can use up.” Contemporary hipsters, seemingly, don’t believe this.
I get it. Shit’s ironic. Shit’s crazy. Postmodern life. Let’s mash together Britney Spears and Burial and just rock out with our cocks out. It’s not a guilty pleasure if its irrelevant. Fuck art let’s dance. etc.
I guess I’m just becoming increasingly bored with the bubblegummy insincerity of shit that’s played in hipster clubs and subsequently uploaded to blogs, whose writers regard it all as “artistically (or societally) significant.” Music as statement has its place, but I prefer my music a tinge more stimulating.
[side note: the sampler is still the most important instrument ever]
Alas, I’ll concede to the idea that handful of outstanding bands released some mesmeric material in 2009, and that in recent years, the surge in the amount of shitty music has accompanied a surge in the quality of work for a number of bands.
That said, lets get this rolling. Here are some albums released in 2009 from some artists that don’t believe every song’s been sung—and aren’t too insecure to prove it.
Rather: here are my FAVES from ‘09 (In no order.)
Though I’d prefer to list Burial’s Untrue, as it’s the album that introduced me to dubstep and enjoyed some serious playtime over the course of my 2009, it was released in 2007 and therefore doesn’t qualify for my list. Nonetheless—the compilation 5 Years of Hyperdub (Various Artists) is equally compelling and, for someone completely new to dubstep, wonderfully educational. Hyperdub is the premier dubstep label, and these are its most notable tracks. You can’t go wrong. The carefully complex yet haunting rhythms, lumbering bass lines, minimalistic samples, and meandering leads beckon weary travelers into desolate sonic landscapes, quietly inviting them to enjoy shelter in the music’s foggy emptiness. This music, as exemplified with 5, is stirringly apocalyptic—and all the better for it.
One of the most sincere and heartfelt records I’ve heard, Bill Callahan’s Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle centers on a broken yet hopeful man, lost in a world he himself paints equal parts brilliant and bittersweet—done so with a stirring mix of confidence and apprehension only an artist who’s all-too familiar with despair could successfully employ. Callahan doesn’t patronize listeners with literal descriptions of his troubles, but he doesn’t condescend to them either. He instead chooses to utilize extraordinary imagery, simple language and careful musicianship to tell his fragmented, tragic vignettes. He does so effortlessly, and the effect is captivating. Subtle strings, intelligent and dynamic percussion, diligent guitars, and most importantly, Callahan’s wise-man growl, all make for a timeless and compelling album, from start to finish.
Certainly, Bear in Heaven’s Beast Rest Forth Mouth is in many ways a continuation of one of indie-rock’s increasingly prevalent trends: the use of electronic equipment and computers as means towards a tribal, ritualistic sound. That said, unlike other artists who employ this methodology (Yeasayer, Animal Collective, Fuck Buttons), Bear in Heaven’s gauzy, reverb-laden sound is less concerned with Dionysian bodily expression, and uses it instead as path towards a kind of introspective salvation. Lots of people have been regarding Beast as a record of youthful angst (Pitchfork went as far to say it’s “a moody brew of surging hormones and consumptive crushes”), and while I believe that sentiment is partially true, the dark, savage undertones suggest something far more dire. Musically, the album’s symbol-heavy songwriting is complimented by impeccable production and careful programming, all with a practiced psychedelic sensibility. A smart, pensive, unforgiving album of sonic science fiction.
[MORE TO COME]
