The 7th Best Album Of 2009: Raekwon - Only Built 4 Cuban Linx Pt. 2

Since hiphop writing by white, suburban 20-somethings is frequently terrible and usually embarassing, I'm going to try and be as straightforward as possible: I really like this album. Like a lot of people, I waited a long time for it, expecting to be disappointed, but I wasn't. Isn't that amazing? It doesn't have the airtight mafioso storytelling of pt. 1, but I don't think anyone was banking on that. Instead it's simply a collection of (mostly) excellent tracks, with top-notch guest spots by (expectedly) Ghostface Killah and (less expectedly) Method Man, among others.

Without sounding too dismissive, Cuban Linx 2 is this years' obligatory top-10 Wu-Tang record. Any other year, it would be a Ghostface album, and in many ways it is, as Ghost is consistently the most engaging MC on this record in particular, and arguably in hiphop in general. Like (I'd imagine) most other music writers, I'm predisposed to enjoying Wu Tang albums--their whole mythology, combined with their superior storytelling, out sized personalities and penchant for obscure, frequently nerdy pop culture references make them a perfect storm of crossover whiteboy appeal. Any person who has ever seen the Wu live knows this--that shit is whiter than a sack of rice.

Raekwon's Only Built 4 Cuban Linx Pt. 2, the 7th best album of 2009!

I Fucked Up The Order of This By Misremembering My Own Damn List. . The 9th Best Album of 2009: Neon Indian - Psychic Chasms

It's fitting that a decade that (sort of) began with Daft Punk's Discovery would end with a record like Psychic Chasms, if only to illustrate how little things actually change. Neon Indian is, at its core, Daft Punk with a Wavves-esque lo-fi aesthetic applied to it. Its built on the same obscure samples, the same 4/4 beats. In the 9 years since Discovery, the technological means have increased to the point where any garage band fiddling around with Reason could create a reasonable facsimile of Daft Punk's sound--but Psychic Chasms sounds like a garage band is actually performing it.

Make no mistake, this is not a timeless album--it's the polar opposite. Neon Indian is a band that is wholly representative of the time in which it was released. This is recession dance music. Music for a time where the industry is so fucked up that its biggest stars are (gasp) songwriters!* and shouldabeen one-hit-wonders like Flo Rida (I know, right?) have multiple number 1 hits. It's all shit. This is no time for glossy-ass crossover hipster electro-pop; this is a time for slightly-more-lo-fi-than-usual crossover hipster electro-pop!

It's easy to rag on the whole endeavor, especially considering it's always referred to as "Alan Palomo's collaboration with visual artist [so and so]." And since that sounds really pretentious, and since the music has been unfortunately dubbed "chillwave" by the kinds of people who catalog new music by inexplicable subgenres, people rag on it a lot. Again, this is why Psychic Chasms is just oh-so 2009. 2009, when "hip" people listened to a style of music called "chillwave"! It's like looking at a photo of yourself when you had shoulder-length hair; sure it looks stupid now, but it was a lot of fun at the time.

And oh yeah, there's some really great songs on the record. But who cares about those? Any idiot can listen to songs--you need me to provide them with some sort of cultural relevance. Right? "Should Have Taken Acid With You" is my fucking ringtone. I have exemplary taste. C'mon.

Psychic Chasms by Neon Indian, the ninth best album of 2009!

---

*in reference to Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga, who, if it were '99, would be relegated to passing off the hit singles they write to Christina Aguilera or something. 2009 popstars are sorta like real musicians. Weird, huh?

The 8th Best Album of the 2009: Future Of The Left - Travels With Myself And Another

No interesting insights about this one, I just like it a lot. The eighth best album of 2009!

The 6th Best Album of 2009: the Flaming Lips - Embryonic

Like a lot of others, I'm sure, I never asked for a new Flaming Lips album in the year 2009. It wasn't that I thought they weren't capable of it, or that their last album was particularly bad. It was that I hadn't really thought about the Flaming Lips at all. And why should I have? I've seen their live show, I've heard from people who have seen it more than once that it's always the same, so why bother? They do what they do, and they do it well. They can sell "Do You Realize?" to Mastercard for commercials for the rest of their lives and tour and Wayne Coyne can make public appearances to remind everyone how wacky and eccentric he is and the world will just keep on turning.

But then they released Embryonic and--holy shit--it's really good. Good enough to make me start thinking about the Flaming Lips again--about their back catalog, their live show, their legacy--and more importantly, thinking about why I hadn't been thinking about them before. Like I said: it isn't as though they had slid into mediocrity; while I rarely listen to it, At War with the Mystics was a solid, if unspectacular, addition to the catalog and that was just one album removed from the critically-adored Yoshimi, which of course, was just one album removed from the even-more-critically-adored Soft Bulletin. Not to mention all the stuff they recorded when they were all raging junkies in the 90s.

Now,

I never listen to Yoshimi or Mystics. Yoshimi, i think, is little more than a Soft Bulletin rehash and I just don't need that much Flaming Lips in my life. All of this makes Embryonic all that much better for me. Because it sounds nothing like anything they've done before, but exactly like something that they should have done before. Initially you write it off as a throwback to their 90's stuff, until you realize just how much more complex and fully realized it is. And It's so far away from the technicolor glitter and confetti of their vaunted live show that I cannot imagine them touring behind it without overhauling the entire show. It's dark and complicated and thematically cohesive; it has all of the ambition and grandeur of the Soft Bulletin without any of the schmaltz. And it never sounds forced. Not even the track with MGMT.

It's rare for any band to take such a dramatic step forward, much less one as established as the Flaming Lips. At some point, expectations reach the point where any album that isn't a masterpiece gets written off as evidence that the band is slipping. The "dad rock" cries get louder every time Wilco releases an album that isn't another Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which they never will, and maybe they were dad rock the whole time, right? But let's not go down that road. What i'm trying to say is that Embryonic's very existence is basically impossible. Bands who have put in 20+ years don't just decide to switch up their whole sound and make their masterpiece. But the Flaming Lips did it. Good for them. Sixth best album of 2009!

Christmas Party Preparation Procrastination 2009 Best of List Spectacular

I always talk about my top 5s or top 10s of the year or whatever, but I rarely actually follow through with them. It's a largely pointless endeavor that's really only useful to online publications who are looking for more hits. The rankings don't really matter and by the next year, they'll probably looking pretty embarrassing. But sometimes people need to kill some time; hey, I could stand to kill some time right now! Hors D'Oeuvres can wait! Here's my top 20 albums of 2009.

20. Cold Cave - Love Comes Close
This is probably just a result of misguided Philly-homerism, but I don't care, I like this record. I'll probably still throw this one on every once in awhile through the next year, so i'd say that fulfills my nebulous year-end list criteria. It's dancey, but never obnoxious; dark, but not depressing. Plus they've got a New Order thing going on, which I'm a total sucker for.

19. Smith Westerns - Smith Westerns
There's a million bands out there doing this sort of punked-up 50s pop rock, but these guys do it particularly well. "Dreams" is my fucking jam. That opening riff. Jesus.

18. Lotus Plaza - the Floodlight Collective
Bradford gets all the press, but this was the best Deerhunter side project to release an album this year. It doesn't have anything as awesome as "Walkabout", but it's a way more consistent listening experience.

17. CFCF - Continent
This sounds like sexy weather channel music. That's a compliment.

16. Cymbals Eat Guitars - Why There Are Mountains
These guys tap into everything I like about 90s indie rock, so I don't particularly care that they aren't doing anything new. It's not like Modest Mouse or Pavement are releasing new albums.

15. Fever Ray - Fever Ray
For what it's worth, I've probably listened to this more than any Knife album.

14. Built to Spill - There is No Enemy
I almost mentioned these guys along with Pavement and Modest Mouse, but then I realized they somehow released a really awesome, totally relevant in 2009. Good for these old bearded dudes. I'm still never paying to see them live again.

13. Junior Boys - Begone Dull Care
So, it's not the best Junior Boys album, but it's got a handful of top-notch tracks and even the worst Junior Boys album is bound to be better than whatever flavor of the month bullshit is blowing up on Hype Machine right now.

12. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion
11. Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca
10. Grizzly Bear - Veckatimest

There's nothing I can say about these albums that hasn't already been said a million different ways by a million different blogs. But let me ask you something: when was the last time you listened to MPP? Isn't it kind of bullshit? Outside of like, "My Girls" and "Bluish" I mean. I could probably throw together a 10 song mix that encompasses all the Animal Collective I need to hear for the rest of my life. I sort of hate all 3 of these bands, even if I do like a bunch of their songs.

9 through 1: Coming later, after I make dips for this mo'fuckin crudite.

New Review Notes! I Sorta Liked This One!

-ambient intro sorta sounds like broken social scene

-…or flaming lips, because this second song sounds like something from the Soft Bulletin; less lush sounding than the Soft Bulletin; vocals are definitely a little flaming lips, but yknow, not as good. Even the Flaming Lips realized they didn’t need to sound like this anymore. It’s not terrible, but this is seriously just like a song from the Soft Bulletin. Grandiose? I mean, that’s what they’re going for. With the strings and the horns and all. Hey! Take this song seriously, it’s got a military style drum beat and horns and strings people! Not bad, I can’t really hate on this too hard.

-OH NOOOOO! VOCODERS! ROBOT ROCK, Y’ALL! Lyric about Hovercars, refers to a woman as an “IBM.” Yikes. Guess what? This song is about THE FUTURE! It’s pretty catchy. It’s so dumb, though. The chorus is pretty fun; no vocoder on that. Man, tough call on that one.

-This is nice, a little BSS-y again. I don’t know how you go from singing about robot women and hovercars to this. That was pretty nice. This band has not impressed me, but they haven’t done anything to make me hate them. Vocoder song came close, though. But maybe not!

-Again, not bad. A little folky now, maybe? Horn arrangements are back. Banjo, too, I think. This sounds like something off of a Bright Eyes album, only without any of the lyrical handwringing. Totally like something off of Lifted but completely devoid of any emotional sentiment, for better or worse. They still sort of sound like the Flaming Lips.

-eh, interlude track. Oh hey, here’s a song we didn’t feel like finishing so we’re gonna make it sound like it’s being played through a tin can underwater and only be a minute long. I’m on to you guys.

-Alt Country-y ballad. “Here’s a Star”. This is adequate. Whole album, really. Would I ever listen to this again? If this band were playing a free show or opening for someone else, they’d be the kind of band that makes you think, “hey, these guys are decent, I should check out some of their other stuff sometime”…and then you never do.

-Back to the Flaming Lips well, I think. I don’t get these guys—they’re doing all of this stuff marginally well, and they aren’t some young band who hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet, they’re pros. DO SOMETHING NEW GUYS, EVERYONE HAS HEARD THIS STUFF BEFORE.

-These songs are all running together. This is frustrating in its mediocrity. If I weren’t paying attention on it for the purposes of the review, it would just blend into the background. There’s a compliment in there somewhere. Put it this way: if someone put this album on while I was doing the dishes, I wouldn’t ask them to turn it off.

-this is different. Well, it’s different for them. This is a krautrock song. Hey, I like krautrock. This is pretty rockin’; I’d listen to this song. Nah, I’d just put on Neu instead. At the very least, this song engages you. If I were doing the dishes and this song came on, I’d stop ask who it’s by. “Rules of Disengagement.”

-Ugh, this song again. There are basically 3 songs on this record; the robot voice song, the krautrock song, and the other one(s). HEY DID I MENTION SOMETIMES THEY SOUND LIKE A LESS INTERESTING FLAMING LIPS, CUZ THEY DO!

-This album is a 5 all the way. Middle of the mofuckin’ Road, man. This song is good. “Resignation Studies.” I really like this song. That’s why this album is a 5—some songs are good, some songs are forgettable; nothing sounds new, but nothing sounds terrible. Losing me with the sleigh bells here, guys. Eh, whatever, that was good.

-Finishing strong here. Bigtime BSS vibe here, they’re doing that anthemic horns and “la la las” thing that BSS always does. It’s working for them. Pushing their way towards a very serviceable 6 or so (and so could you, ladies! eh, sorry everyone). PIANO BUILDUP! I LOVE THE PIANO BUILDUP! Aww, no dice. Whatever, that was good too.

-Hey, it’s over. Not bad; I count 3 or 4 songs I wouldn’t mind listening to again. Nothing earth shattering; perhaps the definition of average. Hey, the first song sounds like the big anthemic second to last song! Continuity!

-There’s a bonus disc with some remixes and covers (ELO and Alicia Keys, of all people) Neon Indian remixes “Here’s a star” and I love Neon Indian but, like, why? It sounds like a Neon Indian song, but not as good. There’s nothing about “Here’s a Star” that needs a chillwave remix. Here’s an idea, if you want to make a song that sounds like it came out in 2009, try writing one next time.

I'm writing reviews elsewhere now, here are my notes.

I'm going to review some albums for Prefix--yeah, I don't know what that is either--but I'm going to try and do records that I'd never listen to anyway. Here are some notes I made while listening to Hearts by Awesome New Republic. Guess how awesome they are. Go ahead.

Hint: they're less awesome than the name may lead you to believe!

-An overly polished Hot Chip with lyrics that are too cliché to actually be earnest.

-Vocals ranging from mediocre faux-prince falsetto to something you’d hear on an 80’s soft rock station

-Waaaaay too many vocals. Bigtime 80’s/electrohouse thing going on here.

-This is really bad; it’s the vocals. This would be serviceable in the hands of some Swedish Balearic pop dudes, but these guys are seriously out of their element. This guy has the least cool voice I’ve ever heard. It’s proficient in the way the dude’s voice from King of Leon is; it is so out of place here. I can’t believe I’m thinking it, but I want him to sound more detached and ironic.

-This is so by the numbers. These are not good dance songs. These are not good songs.

-If this is meant to be a joke, it’s even worse than if they’re serious. There is some seriously uninspired proficiency at work here. It’s like when commercials can’t afford song rights so they hire some songwriter to do similar genre stuff.

-Oh no. Acoustic guitar. This is probably going to turn mid tempo dancey soon. These guys make MGMT look like the beatles. This is the best song so far, I think? Track 5. It would be Cut Copy’s worst song. Falsetto works much better than his “soft” voice.

-Uh oh, soft voice again. Whoa, these guys are really bad. Of course they’re from Florida. I almost forgot these guys are called “Awesome New Republic.” What the fuck did I expect? This is MGMT for the mentally handicapped. “I feel like Darth Vader inside?” Oh my god. They said it again. I think it’s the chorus. No no no no no. Now I feel like Darth Vader inside. Thanks, Awesome New Republic.

-I like this beepy thing, it’s the most pleasing sound in this song. Consider the bar lowered.

-Ooooh! Club track! Electro-saw-synth thingy. Falsetto! This song might just be inoffensive enough to work! I don’t even know how to evaluate this record anymore. I’d probably feel really embarrassed to be listening to this around other people, but in the context of this record, it’s pretty good. This should be playing over the credits of an 80’s movie. I don’t even know if this is good or not, but it’s not horrible like the rest of this album. “Deep Love”, track 8.

-DANCE PUNK ALERT!! Is that a saxophone? This song is pretty goofy. AHHH dance punk thing again, it’s really not working for them. This is the worst Franz Ferdinand song ever.

-Weird Al. That’s what the guy sounds like when he’s singing in his normal voice. Not nasally jokey weird Al, but like, serious singing Weird Al. He probably doesn’t sound anything like him, but something like that. UGHHHHH. EXTENDED METAPHOR ABOUT BIKES FOR THE WHOLE SONG!? THIS SONG IS ABOUT SEX TOO. I HATE MUSIC NOW.

-Ooooh title track/album closer. Let’s do this shit, Awesome New Republic; let’s get motherfucking serious. Good, start off boring…now build it up for me! Really wow me with this one, I know you’ve got it in you. Sad montage music for a crappy movie? Check. This album is everything bad about the last 5 years of crossover hipster dance pop. Really, that’s it? That’s your big finish? You guys suck. Go back to Florida.

-Well, it’s a short 35 minutes. So, uh, awesome.

Michael Jackson Will Never, Ever Happen Again

When I first heard that Michael Jackson had died, I was neither shocked, surprised nor sad. Having grown up in a world where Jackson the entertainer was constantly overshadowed by Jacko the tabloid fodder, I merely viewed his death as a surprisingly quiet and toothless end to a career that would be completely unbelievable if it weren't true.

Within minutes after the initial report, as Facebook news feeds and Twitter pages became breeding grounds for speculation and/or curious expressions of grief, I remained ambivalent about the passing. This was a man who, to me, died sometime following the release of Thriller. But at 50? It all seemed like a little much--nothing about him in the last 10 years suggested that the man who had just died had anything in common with then pop music demigod responsible for "P.Y.T."

But for that afternoon--and this has only been amplified in the days (weeks!?) since--it seemed like the entire world had stopped what they were doing, turned to the person next to them and said "Michael Jackson died?"

Even for my generation, who I would assume spends just as much time discussing the appropriateness of his relationships with children as listening to his music, nothing about the death seemed right. Here was the most electrifying performer in the world turned sensation media trainwreck, and he's just going to die at 50 of a heart attack. Figures as big and controversial and loved and villified as Michael Jackson shouldn't pass without redemption or at the very least some final judgement. He was a man whose eccentricity and general curiousness was forced down our throats for so long--I once watched Fox News cover his motorcade from Neverland Ranch to an LA court house in its entirety--and for him to die unexpectedly and without explanation? We deserved answers.

And now, it seems, we have them. They're not what we expected or even answers to the questions we've been asking about him since his nose started shrinking and his skin began turning white. The truth is that, for better or worse, none of that mattered anyway. Michael Jackson belonged to the entire world--his career spanned too many generation and was too diverse to just be dismissed as a youth phenomenon. Kids who grew up with the Jackson 5 grew up to have kids of their own who grew up listening to Thriller. He spanned LPs and cassettes and CDs and music videos--and now as a post-mortem nostalgia act, he's conquered the internet and MP3 downloads as well. He was the platonic ideal of an entertainer--his entire existence was surreal and impossible. We've forgiven his transgressions because if Michael Jackson--this towering, inconceivable public figure--dies as a shamed, drug-addled pedophile, it reflects on all of us. We made him into what he was, and we will ultimately decide how he will be remembered. America's greatest export is its culture, and Michael was its ambassador. Just as Elvis was before him, Michael will be remembered as an amalgam of his great accomplishments. These last 15 years were merely his "fat Elvis" period. No one has ever dominated media the way Michael Jackson did and now, no one ever will again.

Save for possibly Barack Obama, there is no person on earth who could die tomorrow and shock the world in the way that MJs death did. He became the biggest star in the post-Elvis, post John Lennon world and we have yet to create anyone bigger. In this decade, the ways in which we consume media have changed radically; the internet allows us access to even the most obscure, esoteric and highly-specialized areas of interest. No single figure will ever again galvanize the entire world in the way that Michael did because we are each so fanatically involved with our own subcultures. We'll all mourn another entertainer, but we'll never mourn together.

For Jackson to die in the last year of this decade is fitting. In the last 10 years we've seen the decline and near death of the traditional media that made Michael Jackson the superstar in the first place--we're living in a new world now, and the coming decade will radically change our notions of what a pop star is and should be, but no matter what that turns out to be, I guarantee you that Michael Jackson will never, ever happen again.

Phoenix - It's Never Been Like That - 2006

Casual discussions of what constitutes "canonical" music often become hamstrung by the shallow perception that "big" = "important". Sometimes it's easy to see through the bullshit; no one will ever mistake Muse for a band of historical importance, despite the fact that they deal exclusively in clunky, grandiose monstrosities that make U2 seem positively subtle in comparison.

Things become more complicated when a band of real importance enters the fold. Ask 100 people what the best Led Zeppelin song is and I guarantee no fewer than 70 of them will say "Stairway to Heaven." Now, this is naturally due in part to a lack of knowledge of the entire Zeppelin category, but after serving 25+ years as staples of classic rock radio, it can be presumed that anyone willing to offer his/her opinion would be working with a knowledge of no fewer than 10 or so Zeppelin songs. No doubt, half of these songs are much better than "Stairway to Heaven."

Now, it's hardly their worst song and certainly not their most obnoxiously self-indulgent (hello, "Carouselabra"), but it when it comes to their most radio-friendly songs, "Stairway" (the kind of people who love this song always call it this) is the one that begs, pleads "take me seriously--pay no mind to the fact that I'm singing about hobbits and shit--guitar solo!"

So people are like, "Okay, I'll forgive the fact that the first 3 and a half minutes of this song are sort of boring. This guitar solo is super-badass, so badass in fact, that i'm going to revise my earlier opinion and say the first half of this song isn't boring and that these lyrics about bustles in hedgerows and may queens or whateverthefuck are actually really deep and meaningful. Yeah!"

When you combine this with the fact that virtually any person to pick up a guitar in the last 20 years can play at least a couple recognizable bars of this song, you've got a ridiculous song that becomes important because it seems (and sounds) important.

I don't think it's all that great.

Now take "Communication Breakdown." Nothing about it sounds important, it's just over 2 minutes long and the majority of people wouldn't be able to place it by name alone. But you're crazy if you don't believe an album of say, 8 "Communication Breakdown"'s with a "Dazed and Confused" or two thrown in wouldn't be one of the most perfect rock records ever created.

Especially compared to their later work, "Communication Breakdown" sounds absolutely effortless--the efforts of a bunch of dudes who just straight up didn't give a fuck. That's rock and roll. But i'm not here to canonize "Communication Breakdown"--nobody will every canonize "Communication Breakdown." I'm way out of my element here. I'm here to canonize Phoenix, a band that, for a completely different set of reasons, doesn't give a fuck.

Phoenix has the dubious distinction of being what I like to call a "privileged band"--a band full of people who, in the vein of the Strokes or Vampire Weekend, never had to work a day in their lives and shockingly were still able to write and perform catchy pop songs. Oh, but they lack "authenticity." This is a big deal to 14 year olds everywhere.

The question is, what exactly is "authenticity" in this scenairio? Phoenix and the Strokes aren't attempting to stand for anything, and Vampire Weekend stand for, I guess, boat shoes and cardigans and grammar? I'll take issue with Vampire Weekend here, simply because:
1. They've got maybe one good song.
2. Music doesn't really need to stand up for boat shoes and cardigans--that's what the J. Crew catalog is for.

I hate to oversimplify here, or sound like someone from a vh1 reality show, but when it comes down to priviliged bands and the notion of authenticity, the haters are just jealous. Who wouldn't be? Rich guys get laid. Guys in bands get laid. Rich guys in bands are basically superhuman.

Is this not the ideal situation to create great pop songs? Who better to create sunny, effortless music than a bunch of guys without problems? There isn't a moment on It's Never Been Like That that sounds even the least bit labored. It's a record that you can listen to from beginning to end, then listen to again without pause. Not because it's complicated enough to require carefull analysis, but because it's so simple you don't have to think about it at all. You could probably play this album for the duration of a party without hearing a complaint. Seeing as though parties are the domain of hit singles, what does that say about this album?

And that brings up the most peculiar aspect of It's Never Been Like That and maybe even the reason it's so effective as an album in the first place: it lacks a "hit single." "One Time Too Many" is handily the best song on the record, but not in a way as to overshadow the rest of it. Some albums are peaks and valleys--this one is a high plateau with a peak. It's a hit album, not a hit single.

Granted, it wasn't actually either--but it should have been.

It's refreshing to hear a band that doesn't feel compelled to attempt grand, artistic statements and instead chooses to simply be the best pop band they can possibly be. Musicians who challenge themselves and their listeners with ambitious records are absolutley necessary, but great, ambitious albums are just as rare as perfect pop albums. It's Never Been Like That certainly falls into the latter category, so why not celebrate it?

Kanye West - Graduation - 2008

Because music doesn't exist in a vacuum, cross-generational comparisons between artists are inevitable. These usually manifest themselves as some sort of dismissal of contemporary music, as in "Well, who are our Beatles then?" As if today's music is somehow unnecessary because they Beatles made great music 40 years ago. And because music doesn't exist in a vacuum, the answer to that question is simple: the Beatles are our Beatles.

When another band comes around and more or less lays the foundation for the next 40 years of pop music, there's your new Beatles. But when it happens, Beatles comparisons just won't sound right, because the songs won't resemble the Beatles in the slightest, and that's what will make it all so Beatlesesque.

"Well, then who is our Bob Dylan?"

I mean, sure, the answer is still Bob Dylan. But really, it's Kanye West.

People always bristle at this comparison. It's like in the NBA where white players are compared exclusively to other white players--like it's inconceivable for a white guy to have a game like Magic, or a black guy to play like Bird. And maybe those are the wrong comparisons--Bird and Magic had games that transcended black and white because they were such phenomenal, once-in-a-lifetime talents, but because of this, they became--Bird more than Magic--the platonic ideal for players of their respective races. This is how you end up comparing Keith Van Horn to Larry Bird--maybe it looks right if you squint, but if you open your eyes, you barely see the resemblance.

Bob Dylan, to most people, is a skinny white guy with a guitar and a questionable voice who just happens to be a genius poet. When you take away the genius poet part, you get a skinny white guy with a guitar and a questionable voice. This is how Connor Oberst got compared to Bob Dylan. Connor Oberst is the Keith Van Horn of folk music.

Naturally, Bob Dylan was more than just a genius poet with a guitar--he was an arrogant, shit-starting prick who craved attention from everyone at all times and got it, because he was just that good. It takes a special kind of talent to overcome an ego like that--to believe that you are truly god's gift to humanity, and then get everyone else--fans, critics, your contemporaries--to believe it too? Sound familiar?

Kanye West has a Dylanesque ego--that's not up for debate. This is a man who routinely compares himself to Jesus and truly means it. He's also a petulant, overly-sensitive man child who routinely throws epic hissy fits at meaningless awards shows when he doesn't win their meaningless awards. He has a blog where, in between materialistic ramblings about gadgets and clothes, he will respond immediately, usually in ALL CAPS, to any perceived slight and once admitted that he was "typing so fucking hard [he] might break [his] fucking Mac book Air!!!!!!!!"

And yet, everybody loves him. He comes across at such a polarizing figure--an arrogant jerk who makes music that seems to white for rap radio and too black for the still-surprisingly-large "anything but rap & country LOL!" contingent. But he's had 3 straight number one albums and sold over 10 million records in the U.S. alone since 2004. He gets rave reviews from every conceivable media outlet from the Source to Pitchfork. Do you know how hard it is to be hipster and Hot97 approved? That just doesn't happen. Ask the Clipse.

Kanye West has taken rap music--a genre riddled with archaic rules and holier-than-thou purists--and turned it into something that can be nearly universally appreciated. Graduation takes chances--sure, it's still full of club beats, but they're more French discotheque than "In Da Club"--he samples Steely Dan, Daft Punk, and Can and you don't even care that he's pandering to white people because it all sounds so good(1).

Late Registration & College Dropout may have had his biggest hits, and his most enduring pop hits may very well be in the form of songs he produced for others, but Graduation is, pure and simple, a focused declaration of pop genius and artistic expression. It's a record that transcends the simple "rap" genre tag and Kanye's so-called limited skills as an MC(2).

And even if you don't believe it's his best or most important or even good, you still have to recognize the album--and Kanye himself--as a sign of progress for hip-hop & rap, both for total mainstream acceptance and artistic viability. Graduation gave Kanye the freedom to make an electro-pop record with nothing but autotuned vocals and the credibility to get away with it.

Is the autotune on 808's & Heartbreaks his Dylan-goes-electric moment? I guess you could argue that in some circles, T-Pain is as big of a blight on hip-hop as electric guitars were on folk. Either way, they both pulled it off, and music is better off because of it.



(1) Alright, not the Can-sampling "Drunk & Hot Girls"; that's probably the record's only 100% skippable track.

(2)Complaining about Kanye's rapping is like complaining about Dylan's singing voice--if it works, it works.

The Strokes - Is This It? - 2001

When the Strokes released Is This It? in 2001, I was incensed. How dare this band of rich kids from New York release a good album!

Naturally, I didn't think the album was good at the time, because I didn't listen to it. I saw the video for "Last Nite" (on MTV!), thought the song was pretty awesome and knew automatically that I Hated This Band. I mean, how dare they?

In 2001, I was 15 years old and nothing was more important to me than feeling a sense of ownership over the bands that I liked. And here come the Strokes, looking all cool with their leather jackets and just ruining everything. I spent my adolescent years listening to punk rock and cultivating an entire persona around listening to music that no one else listened to, only to have these chumps come around and blow everything up. At the time, I was positive that within a month, everyone I knew would be listening to the Velvet Underground and Television and I'd be the same as everyone else.

Of course, it never happened that way--and why would it have? No normal person hears a pop song and views it as a threat to their way of life. Most people don't put any thought into the music they listen to, which explains why Shaggy had not one, but two #1 singles in 2001. In fact, during the height of the Strokes' relative ubiquity, their only real contribution to pop-culture was opening the flood gates for a wave of bands with "the" in their names.

So, in a way, the Strokes were responsible for me purchasing and listening to Highly Evolved by the Vines. The year was 2001. I bought a CD. By the Vines. And I Hated the Strokes. I was 15. We all make mistakes.

Following the whole "garage band revival" bullshit that ultimately went nowhere, I rarely put any thought into the Strokes--if someone brought them up, I would regurgitate my standard "inauthentic rich kid" talking points and move on. More often then not, people would agree with me--it's now evident to me that I wasn't the only 15 year old who viewed the Strokes as an affront to their identity.

But then one night in 2008 I was alone in a bar in Berlin and "Is This It?" came on, and with no one around to tell how much I hated the Strokes, I was forced to actually listen to it. So I did. And for those 2 and a half minutes, I felt like the coolest motherfucker on the planet. Later, I sat down and listened to the whole album; the singles were exactly the same as I remembered them, which is to say that they still sounded great. Even when I Hated the Strokes, I still took the time to learn how to play the intro to "Hard to Explain" and if "Last Nite" or "Someday" just happened to come on the radio, I'd express my distaste for the band, but secretly enjoy the songs anyway. The rest of the album? Very few complaints--If you can make a 36 minute album with three top-notch singles and a handful of other songs that are merely "good", I will listen to it any time. At 15, Is This It? would have blown my mind, had I not been so worried about it destroying my life.

What I'll Be Doing & Why

I've got a serious love/hate thing going on with music writing--most days I loathe the very thought of it, most likely because I spend so much time thinking about it. I could list a million pretentious-sounding criticisms of it that I've come up with over the years, but these are ultimately just excuses I make for not writing anything at all.

After all, if music criticism is so shallow and unnecessary, why have I invested so much time coming up for all these reasons it's shallow and unnecessary? Maybe it actually has some value, or maybe I just enjoy pursuing things that are shallow and unnecessary.

And hey, what's more unnecessary than a list? How about a decade-spanning list with less-than-strict criteria for inclusion and no real order! So here's my plan: I'm going to write about albums from the last 10 years that I think are interesting, important or just great. Extra consideration will be given to albums that I have some personal anecdotes about, because really, what am I going to write about otherwise? "Swirling guitars"?

Some of these albums will be no-brainers--eventually, you will hear my thoughts about Radiohead--but for the sake of brevity (if brevity can exist in a project with no real end) I'm going to make this a 1 record per band affair. So when you do hear my thoughts about Radiohead, you'll be hearing them about Kid A. Because come on, what else was I going to pick?

Also, along the way I might find the time to talk about particularly great singles or particularly awful trends or personalities that made themselves known during this decade we've come to know as the aughts.

Just kidding--nobody calls it the aughts.