The D Man's Music

Five Things

2012-03-01T18:18:00.004-08:00

(The Shins' Jame Mercer)

The D Man has recently been enjoying good tunes, but none of them are coming from new albums. For whatever reason, nothing has really grabbed me this year. With several albums to look forward to from established artists (Andrew Bird, The Shins, Jack White, Sun Kil Moon, etc.), here is hoping for fertile spring listening.

The Shins are preparing to release their first record since 2007's Wincing the Night Away. Enjoy the video for the very Shinsian first single "Simple Song."
Check out "Sunshine Chicago," the second track from Sun Kil Moon's forthcoming fifth album, Among the Leaves. The acoustic song finds Kozelek humorous and direct, but reaching again into his realm of wistful sadness, sunlight be damned.
Bon Iver releases a new video for "Towers." The cinematic rendering is what you would expect: absolutely perfect for the song.
Check out the fun video for one of the The D Man's sleeper songs from last year, Beirut's "Vagabond." The splendid horns accompany soldiers, nurses, smoking and drinking. Awkward dancing ensues.
Radiohead plays two new songs. That's something, right?

Song(s) of the Week

2012-02-18T10:39:00.000-08:00

Justin Vernon recently took home Grammys for Best Alternative Album and Best New Artist for Bon Iver's masterful self-titled second album. Given Justin Vernon's homespun debut actually came out in 2008, the voters might want to pick that one up, too--it's pretty good. Check out a recent live session featuring Vernon and bandmate Sean Carey, reworking five songs: "Hinnom, TX," "Wash.," Bonnie Rait's "I Can't Make You Love Me," "Babys," and "Beth/Rest." With just their voices and two grand pianos, the spare performance is, not suprisingly, something beautiful.

(A Little Bit More Than) Five Things

2012-02-07T16:29:00.000-08:00

(Phil Carney, Chris Connolly, and Mark Kozelek from Desertshore)

February has been unseasonably warm and bright. So The D Man is back from his January hibernation that primarily consisted of depositions and late-night reruns of House Hunters. 2012 is looking up! First, some Caldo Verde news. Second, some fairly recent videos you may have missed.

On Desertshore's sophomore effort, Drawing of Threes, Phil Carney's and Chris Connolly's instumental excellence is enhanced by producer Mark Kozelek's lyrics and vocals on six of the album's tracks. Check out "Randy Quaid." Speaking of the red house painter, his fifth album as Sun Kil Moon, Among the Leaves, drops this May. It sounds like another indelible incarnation. In the meantime, you should listen to "Andrew and Emma" from the sad and graceful folk album Forever the Moon, Heirloom of August's debut on Kozelek's Caldo Verde label.
Markarians strike again with a spare but killer groove.
Youth Lagoon's July includes some seriously strange fireworks.
St. Vincent has some giant problems.
Ryan Adams does his fading out of L.A. thing.
Loney Dear names some blues after his band.

The D Man's Top Twenty Albums of 2011

2011-12-10T08:51:00.000-08:00

2011. The sax is back! Chillwave disintegrates! Guitars get golden! Electronic music goes live! The headlines for a fine year in popular music were plentiful. Kanye and Jay-Z produce the first stadium rap album. Bon Iver creates another American folk-pop masterpiece. M83 fulfills the promises of its cinematic splendor. Radiohead defies expectations (again). Kurt Vile, The War on Drugs, and My Morning Jacket demonstrate that the axe is mightier than the sword. Fleet Foxes decide that the Beach Boys should add Simon & Garfunkel as bedfellows. Neon Indian, Washed Out, and Toro y Moi reprogram chillwave, consequences be damned.

Transitions were inevitable, too. R.E.M called it a day. (Or a few decades, to be clear). Ryan Adams started breaking hearts again. Destroyer went cosmopolitan, while Death Cab became pedestrian. Iron & Wine added some sax (of course) and left behind the quiet. Beastie Boys returned, still not quite adults. St. Vincent said she wasn't a cheerleader any more. The Drive-by Truckers, well, thankfully, maybe they didn't change.

The D Man enjoyed much of the new music--and most of the changes--in 2011. He also decided that, if a listener is honest, it is difficult to truly enjoy (and explore) more than about 40 albums a year. (Unless, of course, listening to music is your full-time job, which sort of sounds awful. Where would you turn to escape? To drive off in your car?). With that understanding, there are certainly several worthy albums that I missed, which always leaves me feeling a little unfulfilled or overwhelmed.

I wrote a poem several years ago with the following line: so many girls that I'll never kiss, so many mothers that I'll never miss. That sentiment also seems to sum up my feelings about all of the great records that I may never hear. My resulting wistfulness knows no bounds. But we only have so much time. So where to start? I suppose, in the end, that I take some comfort in this: my Top Twenty is always a fine place to begin the begin.

*An asterisk will be placed by every album that uses a healthy (or even judicious) dose of saxophone. Trumpets and other horns count, too.

1. Kaputt / Destroyer

2011-12-10T08:30:00.000-08:00

Kaputt is the most beguiling album of the year.

On Destroyer's ninth album, Vancouver's Dan Bejar navigates the backrooms of the world, breathing cinematic life into a modern, urban noir. An atmosphere of rain-soaked city parks, throbbing nightclubs, and deserted downtown streets is described in exquisite language; Bejar's lyrical approach to his cosmopolitan subjects is nothing short of poetry. Musically, Kaputt melds watery bass-lines, smooth jazz, and new wave guitars into a lush canvas of scenesters, romantics, and playboys, all of them literate, wry, and wizened. Question: Can a record this stylized actually be the best album of the year? Answer: Need you even ask?

The words! Bejar's stream-of-consciousness is evocative. Serving as our guide and shaman--the Mystic Prince of the Purlieu at Night--Behar passes for a downtown Whitman, backed by a chorus of saxophones and trumpets sent from the reverbed heavens.

I wrote a song for America.

They told me it was clever.

Jessica is gone on vacation on

The dark side of town forever.

Who knew . . . Who knew . . .

The juxtaposition of Bejar's city poems against his immaculate take on so-called smooth jazz--a form of music that some might perceive as ironic or worse--reinforces the powerful allure of his subjects and, arguably, may be the crowning achievement of Kaputt. "Chinatown," the year's best album opener, chronicles the magnetic pull of desolate, late-night apocryphas:

You can't believe

The way the wind is talking to the sea.

I heard that someone said it before,

I don't care,

I can't walk away, I can't walk away . . .

In Chinatown . . .

The solitary poet in "Blue Eyes" seeks refuge in the pursuit of romance:

You terrify the land.

You are pestle and mortar.

Your first love's new order:

Mother Nature's Son.

King of the Everglades: Population 1.

I write poetry for myself! I write poetry for myself!

You're a permanent figure of jacked-up sorrow.

I want you to love me. You send me a coffin of roses.

I guess that's the way things go

These days . . .

(Even Bejar's come-ons are shrouded in poetic signifiers, as he repeatedly whispers to his elusive lover I've thumbed through the books on your shelves. These lines come off sounding like the most intimate thing he could ever hope to say to a woman).

"Savage Night at the Opera" is an aesthetic show-down of sorts, the musician's shrugging confrontation with another musician (or perhaps even himself):

Yes. I'm familiar with your scene.

Some would say, shockingly uptight.

21-gun salute to the Fallen Birds of the Sky.

I heard their record, it's alright . . .

Hey, Infinite Sense Of Value . . .

Hey, Mystic Princie Of The Purlieu At Night!

I heard your record, it's alright . . .

"Poor in Love" is a confessional conversation amid personal (and man-made) ruin:

I was poor in love. I was poor in wealth.

I was okay in everything else there was.

Oh, I was poor in love.

She took me aside and said--

"Look I don't do this every day,

You got style! . . . All you've got is style!

I can see it from a mile away!"

Oh, I was poor in love.

"You were born okay.

Rich in name alone.

Your Jesuit profile will suit

The coming apocalypse!"

Oh, I was poor in love.

Poor in love . . .

Bejar's lyrical brilliance is a thing to behold, as the imaginative refrains keep coming with an almost blinding precision. Largely driven by the epiphanies strewn throughout the record, somehow, incredibly, each of the nine tracks on Kaputt managed to be my favorite song of the year at some point in time. The literary riches in "Suicide Demo for Kara Walker" and the incomparable 13-minute closer "Bay of Pigs" are almost too difficult to describe. And this is an easy-listening pop album?

The vocals! It would be too clever by half to call Bejar's duet partner, Vancouver singer Sibel Thrasher, a modern-day Dickinson because clearly she gets out of the house. Indeed, she would disagree that there is no frigate like a book--she has a voice that has seen things. Where Thrasher's vocal counterbalance is womanly--even heavenly--Bejar's singing is cool, sophisticated, and dipped in a Dylan-esque quill. To help emphasize the free-flowing verses that permeate the album, Bejar reportedly recorded some of his vocal tracks while lying down on his couch.

The soundtrack! Kaputt easily employs the best-sounding horns of the past decade (and probably much longer). Where the music might be passed off as an amusing distraction at first, if not a winking derivation of soft-jazz tropes, repeated listens reveal a richness that belies mere irony. The music is soulful, artful, yes, even beautiful. Where else can you get a three minute pan-flute intro for a song about race and violence that finishes with a groovy, trumpet-infested breakdown?

The prologue! It cannot be over-emphasized: the degree of difficulty in pulling off this album is, well, off the charts. In lesser hands, the record would have sounded ridiculous, a lightweight rip-off circa 1981. Even the lyrics could have been a bumbling mess, untethered to the underlying music. But Bejar is no fool. Without sounding neither sleight nor overwrought, he weaves his nonchalant, lyrical asides across jazz-lite jams that, significantly, brim with sincerity, humor, and pathos. Bejar's sly bemusement is so casual, so off-the-cuff, one gets the feeling that he is worrying about something else at the same time he is explaining everything listeners need to know about the human drama.

Like some of The D Man's favorite albums during his adult life, I could think about--and discuss--Destroyer's record for the better part of the day. The album is such a bewitching aesthetic achievement, I feel compelled to write a thesis to unearth its virtues. Not surprisingly, such heavy lifting, while sure to be enlightening, is ultimately unnecessary with this immediate musical pleasure.

Kaputt.

2. Bon Iver

2011-12-10T08:29:00.000-08:00

I can see for miles, miles, miles. Leave the parenthetical coasts and strike out for the continent. Consider the wide expanse and the places that unfurl. Minnesota, Wisconsin. Michicant. Lisbon, OH. Winnum, TX. Calgary. On Bon Iver's masterful self-titled album, Justin Vernon sets his earthworn gaze across it all.

With an album that was immediately hailed as a staggering achievement, it is already difficult to contextualize Vernon's second American masterpiece and the musical transformation that came with it. Vernon travels beyond the unconventional and folk-riddled province of the upper Midwest, the sometimes spare and insular scrawl of For Emma, Forever Ago. He goes continental. Expansive. While his songs retain their intimacy, Vernon refashions a realm of Americana, folk, and pop music that, candidly, few listeners could have imagined and even fewer artists could have conceived.

Put simply, Vernon's recontextualization is about textures. The feel of things. The feel of words, instruments, and sounds. The way a song moves, hangs in the air, crystallizes, then breaks apart. Like a Mercator projection, some uber-produced records lose their contours and become flat and one-dimensional. Here, the music is gilded with shapes and edges, a topographical foray into resplendent tangibleness.

The staccato drum beats of "Perth." The sinewed guitars of "Minnesota, WI." The coin-dropped chinging of "Michicant." The deep-toned vocals of "Hinnom, TX." The gentle key-bounce of "Wash." The epic pulse of "Calgary." The songs, all of them so striking in their emotional connection, cut wide swaths across the open trails of your heart.

On the final track "Beth/Rest," Vernon becomes the indie-rock Peter Cetera, taking his emotional grandeur to its logical extreme. The song arcs out into soft-rock orbits, spinning off lush vocal effects, piano runs, glittery guitar solos, and sax interludes. The song teeters at the edge of overkill were it not so good, so heartfelt. Some listeners have cringed at the purported sappiness, as if Peabo Bryson were manning the soundboard. To that, I offer my condolences for missing out on a potent piece of populism.

Recently, a fawning critic said that the boombox scene in Say Anything has been saving itself for "Holocene." Under the weight of those and future expectations, where does Bon Iver go from here? If you have been listening, of course, the answer to that question is simple: anywhere he wants.

3. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming / M83

2011-12-10T08:28:00.000-08:00

M83's awesome double-album, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming, delivers on all of the promises that Anthony Gonzalez's prior records have made. His mastery of cinematic and cerebral electro-pop is on full display, spinning out gorgeous after gorgeous moment of life-affirming music. Cynicism dies in the face of his unyielding sonic optimism.

Like all great artists, Gonzalez has a firm grasp of his own aesthetic and a keen sense for how to harness its greatness. Where double-albums are often misguided, bloated, or short-handed, here the 22-track epic is clearly the inspired format for M83's diversity and expansiveness. Huge singles ("Intro" "Midnight City"), world-tinged pop tracks ("Reunion," "Claudia Lewis," "Steve McQueen"), swirling instrumentals ("Another Wave from You," "Echoes of Mine"), and strangely fantastic one-offs ("Raconte-Moi Une Histoire," "Year One, One UFO") are perfectly sequenced throughout the two sides. On their own, Side One and Side Two would merit placement in the The D Man's Top Twenty. Together, they equal impenetrable feats of symphonic electronic music.

Gonzalez's self-described "very, very, very epic album" extends the nostalgic magic of Saturdays = Youth and embraces the wide-screen electronica of Before the Dawn Heals Us. Enjoy the incredible live clip of "Midnight City," hands down the best single of the year. Yes, there will be sax, as it is obvious the menage a trois of live drums, laser synths, and 80's jazz feel like they were destined to be together.

4. Helplessness Blues / Fleet Foxes

2011-12-10T08:25:00.000-08:00

Fleet Foxes' eponymous debut was a stunning delight, one of the best albums of the last ten years, and arguably one of the finest folk-pop records of all time. The Northwest band's second album, Helplessness Blues, is a thrilling indication that these musicians are in it for the long haul. So without further discussion, The D Man's favorite moments from the overwhelming abundance of melodies and harmonies.

Montezuma. When Pecknold sings and my mother and father in the beautiful, melodic opener.
Bedouin Dress. Not sure what that instrument is, but it sounds like a snake-charmer.
Sim Sala Bim. The opening stanza. He was so kind, such a gentleman . . . . Makes me feel like I'm sitting in some windswept parlor, something foreboding to come. Then it does.
Battery Kinzie. I woke up one morning!
The Plains / Bitter Dancer. The third act. Defying death incarnate. At arms length, I will hold you there. Enter bursting ooohs and aaahs.
Helplessness Blues. Arguably the most thrilling mid-song shift of the year; the song's second half is a fleeting burst of imaginative clarity and harmony. If I had an orchard, I'd work 'til I'm sore.
Lorelai. The lilting music, the lush harmonies, all of it, right now. I was old news to you then, oooold neeeews, oooold neeeews to you then.
The Shrine / An Argument. Another exciting transition. Another brilliant, ancient-sounding song.
Grown Ocean. The swervy guitar licks. The building sense of urgency. Leaves me in shambles of joy.

5. The King of Limbs / Radiohead

2011-12-10T08:22:00.000-08:00

Too many critics and fans have struggled with the fact that they could not place The King of Limbs in the unfolding Radiohead narrative. As if every studio album from the band should follow some discernable and linear path, building on (or running away from) the album before, some listeners failed to embrace an obvious fact: this time around, Radiohead just wanted to play to their own fancies, unencumbered from the heft of their singular and storied catalog.

Until The King of Limbs, diehards could trace the British band's notable progression--or re-invention--on an album-by-album basis. The story goes something like this: Pablo Honey (the uneven creep), The Bends (the alt-rock classic), OK Computer (the magnum rock opus), Kid A (the po-mo masterpiece), Amnesiac (the twitchy Kid A companion), Hail to the Thief (the brooding commentary), and In Rainbows (the glorious re-emergence). So where to put the new album? It is not an extension of In Rainbow's large-scale visions, although some traces made their way over to the new record. It is not a return to rock-centric guitars established by The Bends or OK Computer. It is not an insular retraction into experimentation like Kid A. So what gives?

To a certain extent, the record feels like the band's first singer-songwriter album, where Yorke's vocals are truly front and center. The surrounding instrumental flourishes, perceptive and patient, are seemingly employed to accompany the singer's wishes. Undoubtedly, the tightly-wound songs serve the band's continued fascination with rhythm. While some listeners may long for Greenwood's guitars to play more of a leading role, to a signficant degree, this is drummer Phil Selway's record. His meticulous time signatures are without peer.

The King of Limbs contains only eight tracks and is by far Radiohead's shortest record. As a result, the record feels cohesive and, for whatever reason, seems to flow toward and away from the immediate highlight "Lotus Flower." The first half of the record is filled with addictive rhythms largely fueled by Selway's sticks--the strange tracks grow increasingly more interesting with repeated listens. (See "Bloom," "Little By Little," "Morning Mr. Magpie," and the dub-stepped "Feral.") The second half of the record is a treasure trove of songs, starting with the spiritual piano dirge of "Codex," moving into the tender acoustic strums and vocal loops of "Give Up The Ghost," and signing off with "Separator," a track that only Radiohead is capable of conceiving and pulling off.

Maybe Radiohead defied convention (again?), producing a small, strange, beautiful, and rhythmically-challenging record that suggests, definitively, the band is as self-assured as ever.

6. Smoke Ring for My Halo / Kurt Vile

2011-12-10T08:20:00.000-08:00

Kurt Vile reconfigures the classic guitar album into an effortless and singular moment. His laid-back cool and sprawling, drawn-out vocal delivery are the perfect foil to his ambling guitar passions. The songs feel tossed off and unfinished and at the same time so perfectly executed. The record's amalgam of folk, blues, and psychedelia, rooted in stoner-tinged classic rock, burrows deep within each song, revealing a hazy world of living-room couches, garages, tour buses, and, significantly, friends and lovers coming and going.

"Baby's Arms" opens the album as the most honest rock'n'roll love song in years. "Jesus Fever" then jangles into the record's most catchy chorus, a surprise given that Vile's vocal hooks simply roll by with the music's nonchalant undertow. "Puppet to the Man" thrums with power-chord crackle, and it has the feel of the perfect kiss-off: Well i bet by now you probably think i'm a puppet to the man / well, i'll tell you right now, you best believe that i am.

Vile's overarching confession is perhaps summed up best in that song: Sometimes i'm stuck and then i think i can't unglue it. Not surprisingly, he searches for ways to get out of a jam or, at the very least, he talks himself into the necessary confidence. Consider the haunting "Runner Ups": My best friend's long gone / but i got runner ups.

Despite the personal discord, Vile breaks through with what appears to be his hoped-for mantra in "On Tour":

I wanna write my whole life down

burn it there to the ground

i wanna sing at the top of my lungs

for fun, screaming annoyingly

cuz that's just me

being me, being free

That exultation leads him to this: i'm just playing, i got it made, most of the time. Fortunately, Vile's gorgeous finger-picking reaches for the beauty in the gloom, and as a result, this dark and personal album sounds nothing short of transcendant.

7. Days / Real Estate

2011-12-10T08:16:00.000-08:00

If indie guitar pop is your thing, then this is your thing. The New Jersey band's sophomore album, Days, faintly traces the same hazy summer dreams of fellow east-coasters Beach House. Where the Baltimore duo's instant classic Teen Dream was awash in organ-drones and Victoria Grand's lived-in vocals, Days is carried by lustrous guitar intricacies and the band's easy-going, reverbed harmonies. Like Teen Dream, however, Days' deceptively unadorned melodies are difficult to ignore. The album packs a punch even when it sounds so sleight and weightless.

Days is played with such casual exactness, the album brings to mind the precision of The Sea and Cake, only breezier, warmer, and embossed with reverb and delay. Though the band is likely capable of producing intricate post-rock, the loose feel of this album is vintage melodic pop, recalling the lush and artful melodies of the Byrds, early-R.E.M., and The Shins. During certain moments, the band's vocal shimmer even suggests the Beach Boys, as the songs are transported by suburban-garage guitars that hint at the surf just a short drive away.

Like many indie records of the past several years, Days allows you to create a contextual narrative in your head, rooted in a very specific place or time. For The D Man, that place and time is a youthful summer not too far distant and the carefree romance that slowly evaporates under the long afternoon of my memory. The result is, without a doubt, hypnotic.

8. The Year of Hibernation / Youth Lagoon

2011-12-10T08:15:00.000-08:00

Trevor Powers is 22 years-old and hails from Boise, Idaho. His debut album, The Year of Hibernation, is not what you would expect to hear from the spud state. With carefully-crafted and eminently listenable bedroom arrangements, the record's daydreams envelop lyrical anxiety in sonic guaze, attempting to cover up some of the emotional bewilderment. But the artist's vulnerability results in another kind of clarity: a striking musical confession.

On its face, The Year of Hibernation is an unvarnished and home-made blend of buried vocals, keyboard runs, and guitar interludes--the sound of a young and independent musician overhearing his deeply-guarded thoughts. But the emotional complexity of the record is arresting. A clash of joy and mourning, Powers jettisons perfect understanding in favor of emotional honesty. To that end, Powers reaches a small contextual transcendance, a Bon Iver-like DIY recording of a private place and time: the excavation of the artist's youth.

The record runs at just over a half-hour and it feels like a short but unflinching conversation with your best childhood friend, a foray into enchanting memories and painful separations. Where the vocals are buried in the mix, seemingly emerging from the recesses of memory, Powers' instrumentation is clear-cut and in the present-tense. The crystalline keyboards give shape to the intentional spaciness, creating gravity with each note, while the spindly guitars appear from the outer reaches to punctuate his expressions.

The Year of Hibernation's one-word songs are, put simply, small but powerful vignettes of youth. "17." "Posters." "July." "Daydream." "Afternoon." And just when things get too heavy, the music gives way to an exuberance that only the young at heart can understand.

9. Belong / The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

2011-12-10T08:13:00.000-08:00

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart's second album is no sophomore slump. Belong takes the band's propulsive shoegaze pop from their pleasurable debut and adds a layer of early 90's guitar crunch. Much has been made of Flood's arena-filling production (see U2, The Smashing Pumpkins) and the revival of alt-rock's fuzzy atmospherics. But more needs to be said for the band's inherent charms that are largely evidenced by the single thing great albums cannot do without: great songs.

It takes one listen to realize that the hooks are everywhere--Belong is instantly accessible and enjoyable, song after song, especially for listeners that get giddy over chiming guitars or dreamy synths. But the Brooklyn band has clearly elevated its status beyond writing love letters to The Pastels, My Bloody Valentine, or The Smashing Pumpkins, relying on the merits of their own power-pop brightness. Understandably, the guileless vocals of Kip Berman and Peggy Wang lend the band an irresistable attraction that cannot be summarized as mere tweeness. Belong simply sounds too big for that.

The opening title-track goes toe-to-toe with the best "track ones" of the year. The delightful ditty "Heart in Your Heartbreak" is euphoric sadness that only a pop song could celebrate. Other standouts include "The Body" and "My Terrible Friend." Ultimately, the band's message could be summed up by the music video below: just plug it in, play, and make someone happy.

10. Zonoscope / Cut Copy

2011-12-10T08:11:00.000-08:00

Superb dance or pop music is not too difficult to find--unless you happen to be surfing your FM radio stations. For every great dance-pop track produced by a big-label act (and there are a few), listeners have to wade through denizens of derivative drivel. Twenty-five years ago, bands in the vein of Australia's Cut Copy actually received mainstream airplay--think New Order, OMD, Tears for Fears, Pet Shop Boys. But fast forward to the present and almost everything that passes for Top 40 radio is a bad club song--awful lyrics, lowbrow beats, and unimaginative rhythms fill the airwaves.

Fortunately, Cut Copy are caring curators of the dance-pop past. The band's third album, Zonoscope, is proof that dance music can be exciting and sexy without sounding sleazy. With a firm grasp of avant garde aural textures (the album was produced by Ben Allen of Merriweather Post Pavillion fame), Cut Copy loads up on never-ending layers of beautiful synths, funky guitars, and groove-inducing percussion. Somehow, the globe-trotting tracks still feel spacious, allowing Dan Whitford's hypnotic vocals to smooth everything over.

Zonoscope jumps off from the fantastic In Ghost Colours and promises a buoyant and bright engagement--the hooks, drops, and runs literally glitter across the album. Not surprisingly, a starry-eyed euphoria dominates the record, and as the songs bleed into each other, culminating with the 15-minute "Sun God," one senses that pop bliss was never so close at hand.

11. Slave Ambient / The War on Drugs

2011-12-10T08:10:00.000-08:00

Slave Ambient reverberates American road-rock--Dylan, Springsteen, Petty--and the echoes sound fresh and sometimes dazzling. Kurt Vile's Smoke Ring for My Halo bandmates Adam Granduciel (guitars) and Mike Zanghi (drums) recorded a meandering, open-road album that harkens back to a straightforward (and much-beloved) rock ethic: wide-open, guitar-heavy jams that take you somewhere. Anywhere.

The songs have no proper choruses but they manage to sound anthemic--the sprawling guitar intricacies and chugging rhythm section propel listeners toward big-sky dreams. The record immediately feels hopeful, even if the deep-cut tracks require--and reward--repeated listens. The band's superb EP Future Weather, also released this year, is a necessary companion.

Granduciel shares some of Vile's lyrical phrasing, drawing out and emphasizing the long vowels. Depending on the song, he captures the essence of multiple vocal influences without pandering to a convenient one-off vibe. If this was not one of The Traveling Wilbury's favorite records this year, then Tom has some explaining to do.

12. Hodgepodge

2011-12-10T08:08:00.000-08:00

Admittedly, The D Man really did not know where to fit these next three records into his list. So this just seemed like the best place. The Antlers, St. Vincent, and Ryan Adams have very little to do with each other, but their excellent records merited recognition and discussion.

Burst Apart by The Antlers. A gorgeous and spare slice of indie-rock, Peter Silberman wants to break your heart with his falsetto. Where Hospice created emotional wreckage with shards of spinning hope, the Brooklyn band's second album picks up the pieces in a most mesmerizing and keyboard-infused fashion.
Strange Mercy by St. Vincent. Annie Clark is striking. So is her music. Once an Illinoisemaker for Sufjan Stevens, Clark is now the main event. A compelling dissonance arises from her imaginative arrangements, guitar arpeggios, and vocal gymastics. Indie chicks unite!
Ashes & Fire by Ryan Adams. The D Man's long musical affair with Ryan Adams has been well chronicled. His latest record is a return to the basic acoustic premise of Heartbreaker and the numerous tracks that so many have fallen in love with. Musically, there is nothing earth-shattering in this collection of songs, except for the subtle genius of a gifted songwriter that is slowly revealed after repeated, worthwhile listens.

13. Watch the Throne / Jay-Z & Kanye West

2011-12-10T08:07:00.000-08:00

Big-event albums rarely work out as well as everyone hoped. (See Lou Reed and Metallica as Exhibit A). Watch the Throne is clearly an exception. Jay-Z and Kanye West, the two biggest rap superstars on the planet, teamed up for an album that, while not equaling their best individual efforts, was an entertaining and creative success. Consider it the best tag team of two heavyweights in their prime since Hulk Hogan and Macho Man Randy Savage.

Like the bombast of pro wrestlers, Jay-Z and Kanye rap about their egos, wealth, and fame--the braggadocio knows no bounds. While many have criticized the social implications of the pair's so-called luxury rap, the content certainly makes for some enjoyable lyrical swagger: I'm the Hermes of verses, sophisticated ignorance, I write my curses in cursive. Where Jay-Z often sounds like the stable breadwinner, Kanye relishes his role as hip-hop's playboy, even though he often laments the hollowness of his pursuits. This conflicted self-awareness, in the midst of overwhelming narcissism and materialism, is part of what makes Kanye such an intriguing lyricist and pop-culture phenomenon.

One critic called Watch the Throne rap's first stadium album. When the Jigga Man and Ye visit audiences from Madison Square Garden to the Staples Center, there will be no one in the crowd doubting the record's arena-filling possibilities. Sure, there are a couple misses (never again, Beyonce), but several tracks will easily transform to en masse delivery. "Church in the Wild," "N***** in Paris," "Otis," "New Day" (me and the RZA connect!), "Welcome to the Jungle," "Murder to Excellence," and "Made in America" are all worthy of throwing down hard-earned cash to see the best in the business do their thing. (If you were wondering, clean versions of the album are available--this is a family-friendly site, yo!)

14. Build a Rocket Boys! / Elbow

2011-12-10T08:06:00.000-08:00

Elbow could be the biggest underrated band in the world. Maybe that is why the band's last record was called The Seldom Seen Kid. With noteworthy influences like Peter Gabriel, Talk Talk, and Radiohead, the British band's musical trajection has been steep, and despite the artistic difficulties preventing them from doing so, Elbow keeps making better and better records.

Guy Garvey's lyrics are understated and potent, with a strain of nostalgic whimsy befitting a modern English bard. The band's growing songcraft is rich in volume dynamics, as Garvey admittedly believes "it's incredibly boring and shortsighted if a band sticks with just one sound song for song. An album should take people on a journey." So it goes with Build A Rocket Boys!

On album number five, Elbow moves with a purpose. The songs are prim and proper, like neatly trimmed lawns or well-tended gardens--every instrumental stroke is in its place. The arrangements are meticulously crafted and the melodies suberb; a sense of traditional, made-for-sheet music songcraft holds everything together. Sure, Elbow may be criticized for being decidedly un-rock-'n'roll, as there is no sense of abandon or messiness in their approach. But this is music meant for a proper performance, even the big stage, and it is certain to be carried aloft by Garvey's unmistakable pipes.

After watching Elbow's set at Glastonbury, there was no denying that the band could sound huge, important, and, yes, inspiring. Tracks like "Open Arms" turned into massive stadium sing-alongs, and the band's earnestness never came across as weepy sentimentality. On the record, this same sincerity is marked by musical restraint and Garvey's always-believable voice. The songs always sound good.

"Dear Friends," the last track of the album, is a beautiful British pop song, serving as a great bookend to the opening magic of "Lippy Kids." Speaking of that fine song, how many recordings are guaranteed to give listeners chills? That is an absolute given during your first listen as Garvey answers his own question of seizing golden days: Build a rocket boys!

15. to 17. Chillwave Disintegrates

2011-12-10T08:05:00.000-08:00

The future of music is here. Or at least the sound of the future. So-called chillwave, with its processed effects--vocals, synthesizers, loops--is often a compelling reclamation project: sifting through the musical scrapheap of yesterday in order to build the sonic structures of tomorrow. Though it is wildly unfair to group these three artists together--especially given the disparate vibes on their 2011 releases--there is no denying that their musical force is responsible for pushing boundaries and creating backlashes that, ironically, stem from the disintegration of a perceived musical trend.

On Chaz Bundick's second full-length, Underneath the Pine, he delivers a warm electro-pop affair that leans on the past for inspiration, filtering through an analog lens groovy beats and ambient immediacy. Combining some of the best elements of chillwave with a deep immersion into sonic textures of yesteryear (think Deerhunter but for dance/R&B music), Toro y Moi comes of as the coolest and grooviest technician in the neighborhood. Smart kids need dance music, too.

On Era Extrana, Texas' musical cyborg, Alan Palomo, went to Finland to be reprogrammed. The Atari-bit beats of his lo-fi debut, Psychic Chasms, have been replaced by the consoles of the future, resulting in a more hi-def experience. The catch? The mid-winter decay of the production--even the decay of the very future--feels chilling in the cold hands of the love-sick and anxious programmer. The lesson? Virtual love is always elusive.

On Ernest Greene's proper debut, Within and Without, the lap-pop whiz creates a dreamy, synth-washed pallette that could be the movement's love child. Lush, beautiful, and romantic, Washed Out's arrangements contain an understated elegance that cannot be dismissed as mere background music. The live instrumentation amps up the decibels while retaining the music's hushed ambience. Gorgeous stuff.

18. Circuital / My Morning Jacket

2011-12-10T08:03:00.000-08:00

My Morning Jacket is one of the best rock bands on the planet. The band's live shows are an experience, punctuated by yelps and open-road thunder and interspersed with strains of folk, alt-country, and reverbed psychedelia. With Circuital, the band's sixth studio album, the Kentucky jam-rockers settle into a comfortable, loose-sounding groove that attempts to approach the band's live feel and sound. While there is nothing quite like an MMJ show, this record at least reaches for that feeling, which, thankfully, will have to be enough.

Recorded in an empty Louisville gymnasium, Circuital returns to the band's core sound, perhaps a knowing retreat from the scattershot experiments on the much-maligned (but now underrated) Evil Urges. While the record does not equal the band's best work on It Still Moves and Z, Jim James and his merry men seem no worse for the wear. Indeed, there is a lyrical confidence and freedom on this record that bodes well for the future.

Check out the country-rock jamming of the title-track, the dire-warning beats of "The Day is Coming," the sweet folk of "Wonderful (The Way I Feel)," the hard-knock lessons of "Outta My System," and the choir-rock dangers of "Holdin' On to Black Metal." And please take note: underappreciate these guys at your peril.

19. Yuck

2011-12-10T08:01:00.000-08:00

Yuck's self-titled debut defies pastiche with fuzzy guitar bashing that is propulsive, catchy, and endearing. The band's melodic core is dipped in an alt-rock sheen (think Dinosaur, Jr. and The Breeders, to name just two), and the hooks are embellished with just enough distortion to allow the hard-hitting pop songs to breathe.

In the recent nostalgia of late-era college rock and early-90s alternative, Yuck's debut stands out, hinting at future possibilities of taking venerable sounds into unheard places. The British band's arty guitar noodling on some of the spacier tracks suggest as much. Significantly, there is a sweetness to the band's approach that unpacks the angst of grunge, making the record sound more youthful, even celebratory at times. No doubt that the shared vocals by siblings Daniel and Ilana Blumberg enhance the less confrontational mood.

Highlights include opening track "Get Away," alterna-anthem "The Wall," and the perfect pick-me up "Georgia."

20.* The Rip Tide / Beirut

2011-12-10T08:00:00.000-08:00

Beirut's third album feels like an old friend. Earthy, well-worn, and honest, The Rip Tide sheds some of the sonic clutter from Nathan Condon's previous efforts but still sounds loose and improvisational. In terms of companionship, consider this music Sancho Panza, unfailingly finding ways to lift you up with stories and good humor despite an overarching pain of longing. Indeed, the record could be the soundtrack to the indie version of Don Quixote.

Condon hails from Santa Fe, and where his earlier albums explored Balkan and other European fare largely gleaned from his travels, The Rip Tide carries him closer to home, sounding like a record forged in the American Southwest. The horn arrangements are a canvas-expanding backdrop for what are certainly Condon's most melodic collection of songs. The songs evoke history, deserts, and lost loves, a search across the broad panorama of rock and sky that dominates the landscape.

"Sante Fe" is a call home accompanied by stuttering keyboards and soul-warming trumpets (Sign me up Santa Fe / And call your son). "Vagabond" is the desperate return, albeit sun-bleached and hopeful (Left the vagabonds / a trail of stones / forward to find my home). But will there only be endless drifting? On the album's gorgeous title-track, Condon contemplates as much. (So the waves and I found the rip tide). Yet somehow, amid the wanderlust, Condon makes all of the right connections.

Ten Best Musical Moments of 2011

2011-12-05T20:09:00.000-08:00

(Of course you should have known that The D Man shreds)

The D Man is not looking forward to the songs that we will be playing when the world ends in 2012. So it seems wise to remember the good times from the past year.

10. Braving the Mojave with Marty Robbins in tow.
9. Screening Mark Kozelek: On Tour in Rip's basement.
8. Tilting windmills with Rizzo and some seemingly long-lost musical friends.
7. Listening to Kaputt on every atmospheric or late-night drive possible.
6. Air-guitaring with Dave Grohl on this closing number.
5. Enjoying Robin Pecknold's soaring voice on "Oliver James" at Red Butte Gardens.
4. Watching the spectacle of U2.
3. Pounding to the epic soul-march of "Wake Up" with Mrs. D Man.
2. Pulsing to "Race for the Prize" with Stark, Rip, and Rizzo. It's saturday night with the (expletive) Flaming Lips!
1. Attending The Kings of Convenience show with Rip at the Musix Box in Hollywood. Then hanging out with Erlend and Eirek after the show.

Song of the Week

2011-12-01T19:59:00.000-08:00

Most albums that drop at the end of the year are big commercial records designed for the masses. The majority of those records are, obviously, more commerce than art. But some gems appear just as the year is closing out. Check out the video for "It's Real" from Real Estate's sophomore album, Days. It's real good. Props to Stark the Vinyl Shark for letting The D Man know that this record must get into the rotation.

Five Things

2011-11-22T19:13:00.001-08:00

(Jamie xx spinning some records)

The D Man recognizes that he experiences many blessings. Great music certainly takes up a portion of the cornucopia. Or maybe it reverberates through it all. Happy Thanksgiving.

M83 does it on Fallon. Yes, there will be sax.
Enjoy the origami-stylings of Sean Pecknold, singer Robin's brother, who directed the video for "The Shrine / An Argument."
"We All Go Back To Where We Belong." A lovely little swan song.
Cool song from a band that I'm not really down with.
Jamie xx reworks "Bloom."

Song of the Week

2011-11-07T19:13:00.000-08:00

It has been seventeen years since Mazzy Star's "Fade Into You" became an alterna-anthem for the (hip and) hopelessly romantic. Undoubtedly, no one will complain that Hope Sandoval and David Roback are releasing new music in what feels like ages. Sandoval's country timbre still smokes, and with their teetering-at-the-edges acousticism, the band's new single, "Common Burn," feels like falling away.

Kings of Convenience

2011-10-27T19:00:00.000-07:00

A pilgrimage. For two soft voices, blended in perfection. Our journey to hear the Kings proved to be a surf and Scandinavian fantasy of intimate proportions.

When Rip discovered that Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe, the Norwegian duo known as Kings of Convenience, would be performing a one-off show in Hollywood, he called The D Man late at night and said something cryptic like, "They are here." Somehow, I knew what he meant. We promised ourselves years ago that we would travel anywhere in the country to see the elusive pair perform live. The ultimate one-day destination? The sunny coast of California. Without a new album to promote (or even any swag to sell), the Kings easily sold out the Music Box on Hollywood Boulevard. And we were with our people.

First, the surf. In the morning we hit the waves (or, more accurately, the waves hit us) at Hermosa Beach. We experienced the restorative power that occurs when body, board, and buoyancy intersect with the immensity of the ocean. At least that is what I imagined. When I said the breakers were coming hard, Rip noted that I wiped out in five feet of water. All joking aside, thanks to the hospitality of Bones Barry (a derelict contributor to this blog but an otherwise gracious host), The D Man and Rip enjoyed a brilliant day on the beach.

Next, the show. The Kings of Convenience are, undoubtedly, one of our all-time favorite artists. Their music has been a consistent partner for the past decade, not unlike the duo's long-time friendship, creating a formidable companionship for drives, late nights, and early mornings. Their aesthetic vibe has long held our imagination on a deeply personal level. Supremely talented individuals, Erlend is a powerhouse DJ and fronts another fine band, The Whitest Boy Alive, while Eirek has an advanced degree in architectural psychology. But the two of them have established a caring, intelligent, and platonic artistic partnership. Eirek plays the foil of handsome sophistication to Erlend's awkward charm. Together, they are indomitable. Their last album, simultaneously serious and ironic, was titled Declaration of Dependence. Perhaps that is the meaning behind it all.

Luckily, The D Man and Rip share this same kind of chemistry. I saved the seats while he grabbed the Diet Cokes. To the show!

My Ship Isn't Pretty. A brief aside about demographics. While the duo's music certainly evokes passing beauty, like an unfolding natural scene, there is also a cosmopolitan cool that is untethered from American folk idioms. The sound of the Kings is ultimately rooted in a Scandinavian, nonchalant sophistication. Not surprisingly, this exotic air has resulted in faithful followings throughout Europe, Latin American, and, significantly, Korea and Japan. Approximately half the crowd at the Music Box was Asian or Asian-American, which, fortunately, resulted in a receptive and respectful audience.
Cayman Islands. Crystalline guitar escapism.
Love Is No Big Truth.
I Don't Know What I Can Save You From. A super hooky guitar hook. The Kings are teeming with a seemingly unending supply of superb guitar licks. On several songs throughout the night, the Kings "jammed" with extended and intricate precision.
Peacetime Resistance.
Toxic Girl.
Second to Numb.
Mrs. Cold. You lost me, deaf in my ear! Nothing you can say is going to change the way I feel!
Thirteen. They played a great cover of Big Star's heartbreaker.
Know-How. A great track from their second album, Riot On An Empty Street. The entire audience sang Feist's lines. Sheer simplicity!
24-25. This is just about as lovely as a pair of voices and guitars can be. The duo's deft lyrics of interpersonal relationships are always thoughtful, poignant, and honest.
Boat Behind. The audience, of course, hit the chorus with little help. Wo, whoah-wo, whoah-wo! I can never belong to you!
Misread. Perhaps the penultimate song from the "quiet is the new loud" movement. The duo's relatively quiet, minimal approach to songcraft results in an accentuated dynamism whenever there is the subtlest shift in volume, tempo, and rhythm. Each pick of a guitar string is an event met with anticipation. The practical affects of this phenomenon? When Erlend took off his cardigan in a fit of mid-song joy, the audience went wild.
Rule My World.
I'd Rather Dance With You. Nothing else like this. If this clever song doesn't make you feel good, your pulse has stopped. The opening band, Seth Pettersen & the Undertow, came out to back up this number so that Erlend could let loose and do his thing.
Me in You.
Little Kids.
Homesick. The D Man has already waxed at length about the personal meaning of this song. The perfect closer.

Finally, the after party. The D Man and Rip went to the roof of the Music Box and, as fate would have it, rubbed shoulders with Erlend and Eirek. Erlend brought his lap-top and iPod and spun records as the beaming center of attention. ("If you don't clap after each song, there will be an awkward pause."). Eirek chilled with the small crowd and generously accepted our well wishes when we explained that we flew in just for the show. Having crossed paths with the man who had been staring at me from his record all of these years, well, it was worth the trip.

Song of the Week

2011-10-17T19:21:00.000-07:00

May a song earn the distinction of Song of the Week on two separate ocassions? Within a matter of months? Clearly, the answer is yes. With a track like "Midnight City," easily one of the best singles released this year, there is plenty of room for seconds. Bring your super powers and enjoy the video below. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming drops tomorrow.

Song of the Week

2011-10-13T21:15:00.000-07:00

Heading out for a drive this weekend? Need the right song to burst through the autumn leaves? Well, it does not get much better than "Baby Missiles" from The War on Drugs' excellent release, Slave Ambient. The record is staking its claim for best driving album of the year. If you like Dylan, Springsteen, Petty, hell, American rock'n' roll, then this is your jam.

Stark the Vinyl Shark: Time To Pay Attention to the Dum Dum Girls (Vol. II)

2011-10-07T21:03:00.001-07:00

I saw the Dum Dum Girls open for She & Him last summer at the Twilight Concert Series. It was a hot August night, and it turned out to be a rarity in the show world, a night when the opener outshines the main act. At the time, I was still getting to know the band's excellent Sub Pop debut, I Will Be, and was unprepared for their physical appearance on stage: mini-skirts, ripped leggings, corsets, raven black hair, and high heels. For one fleeting moment, I thought this might all be a tactic to distract the audience from a sub-par musical performance.

I was wrong.

Dee Dee (voice), Jules (axe), Bambi (bass), and Sandy (skins) played an excellent set that night, and slowly but surely won over the crowd (including myself) with their special blend of lo-fi garage rock gems like “Bhang Bhang, I’m a Burnout" and “Jail La La." Midway through the set they even pulled out a cover of The Rolling Stone’s 1965 B-Side “Play with Fire," which they turned into a smoldering, bedroom pop ballad of fuzzy guitars and whispering vocals. I left the show wondering what might be next for them. If 2011 is any indication, we can look forward to great music from the Dum Dum Girls for many years to come.

In March, the Dum Dum Girls released the He Gets Me High EP (Sub Pop), showcasing three original tracks and one exceptional cover of “There is a Light That Never Goes Out” by The Smiths. Is it as good as the original? No. Would Morrissey and Johnny Marr approve? I think so. If nothing else, it will inspire you to dig out your Smiths vinyl or CD collection to revisit the unique musical stylings of your old friends from Manchester.

In September, the Dum Dum Girls released their second full-length from Sub Pop called Only in Dreams. It’s an improvement over their debut in almost every way, thanks to a sleek production and improved instrumentation. It’s a more mature sound, not to say they don’t have any fun (see “Just a Creep”), and shows that even though they play to their influences, they have managed to break away from the lo-fi sound that brought them so much success last year. Stand out tracks include “Coming Down,” which sounds like the perfect marriage of Mazzy Star and The Pretenders, “Bedroom Eyes,” which showcases Dee Dee’s excellent vocals, and “In My Head,” which is pure bedroom pop bliss, with a dash of The Beach Boy’s classic West Coast pop sensibilities.

Dee Dee’s smoky, seductive vocals are brought way up in the mix this time, with excellent results. Listen to “Caught in One” with your eyes closed and you’ll swear it's Neko Case, yet on “Just a Creep,” it’s Chrissie Hynde. I’ll take it either way, especially when backed by a rhythm section that knows what they are doing, and a guitar player in Jules who refuses to blend into the background.

I was able to snag a limited edition first pressing of Only in Dreams called the “Sub Pop Loser Edition” which is pressed on pink vinyl and came with a bonus 7’’ 45rpm single. The mix is great, the low end is warm, and Dee Dee’s vocals really sound great on pink wax. It feels great to turn this album up, to enjoy the dynamic range, and to appreciate the great Rock & Roll these women have to offer.

Song of the Week

2011-10-03T17:03:00.000-07:00

Trevor Powers is 22 years-old and hails from Boise, Idaho. His debut album, The Year of Hibernation, is not what you would expect to hear from the spud state. With soaring bedroom melodies, the record's dreaminess envelops lyrical anxiety in sonic guaze, attempting to cover up some of the emotional bewilderment. Check out the arresting video for "Montana." Sometimes, letting go can take a long time.

Song of the Week

2011-09-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

Beirut's third album, The Rip Tide, feels like an old friend. Earthy, well-worn, and honest, the record sheds some of the sonic clutter from Nathan Condon's previous efforts. Check out the funny video for "Santa Fe," where a hapless chap receives some divine intervention.

R.E.M.

2011-09-21T17:50:00.000-07:00

Few, if any, bands have had a ten-album run like R.E.M. From 1983's Murmur to 1996's New Adventures in Hi-Fi, Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Mike Mills, and Bill Berry created something very special. The inventors of indie-rock? College-rock? Alternative music? One thing is certain: R.E.M. is one of the most important, authentic, and inspiring bands of the past thirty years. What else can you really say? Thanks, guys.

Tonight, The D Man plans on listening to Reckoning and Automatic for the People, two of my favorite R.E.M. records. Enjoy some great songs that I have gravitated to over the years, culled from right off the top of my head.

Radio Free Europe (Murmur, 1983).
Harborcoat (Reckoning, 1984).
Finest Worksong (Document, 1987).
Orange Crush (Green, 1988).
Near Wild Heaven (Out of Time, 1991).
The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight (Automatic for the People, 1992).
Nightswimming (Automatic for the People, 1992).
Electrolite (New Adventures in Hi-Fi, 1996).
Imitation of Life (Reveal, 2001).
Walk it Back (Collapse Into Now, 2011).

The Flaming Lips

2011-09-18T06:44:00.000-07:00

They're just humans, with wives and children! A fount of triumphant humanism, The Flaming Lips rolled into town, awash in celebration. Balloons, confetti, lasers, strobe lights, smoke cannons, pink bunnies. The exploding accoutrements of the band's universe looked like mystic spheres, cosmic dust, and starbursts. You had to be there, for once, is the only fair way to describe the experience. And The D Man, Rip, Rizzo, and Stark the Vinyl Shark were there for every glorious second.

Years ago, The D Man wrote a poem for Wayne Coyne, the indie-titan and lead singer of Oklahoma City's greatest rock band, essentially providing a response to some of the universal questions that he posed on 1999's masterwork The Soft Bulletin. Fittingly, it is titled "For Wayne."

An untested hypothesis?

It is far more than that (and you know it)--

the accelerating universe

only expands on those same

chemical principles

that have fired in your brain

from the beginning

Love?

Hate?

Love?

Love.

The small explosions of neurons,

the electrical waves that travel

along a bundle of fibers,

the impulses and chemicals,

and the flaming lips that are never consumed--

they are more than a theory.

The feelings and dreams that orbit your brain

are descendants of the cosmos,

the children of the big bang.

What else can The D Man say, other than pointing out the obvious question: how many artists can evoke such a personal reaction? A poetic dialogue from a gushing fan? Really? To the concert!

Worm Mountain. Wayne crawled across the crowd in his cosmic bubble. He came to rest right above us. He stood up inside the sphere as we held him aloft. We were a collective Atlas, carrying the fate of the entire planet on our shoulders. I should add that many Lip fans have died without ever holding the bubble. We felt so honored.
She Don't Use Jelly. Totally ridiculous song. Totally works everytime. One of the most entertaining songs that you could ever hope to hear live, it is a bizarre treasure from the Lips always-interesting catalog. The alterna-hit thrust the Lips into the national consciousness, or at least the consciousness of weirdos everywhere.
The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song. My kids love this song. What's not to like? So easy to sing.
Vein of Stars. A pensive strummer, contemplating space and time itself. Stephen Drozd's guitar wailed with existential sadness.
See the Leaves. A scary track from Embryonic. There were lots of cymbals crashing and drum fills banging.
Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1. Wayne turned this favorite into an intimate sing-along. There was no doubt that she could save us all. She's a black-belt in karate!
Death Rays of the Sun.
Pompeii Am Gotterdammerung.
What is the Light? / The Observer. A cool track from The Soft Bulletin. The spacey bass-line kept it groovy.
Race for the Prize. One of the most euphoric moments of The D Man's concert-going history. Don't believe me? Even the Japanese (see the video) understand the splendor of the woozy, off-kilter guitars and keyboards, the penultimate race for the cure. Rip and The D Man jumped in jubilation as the swell hit one of my favorite lyrical hooks in all of pop music: They're just humans, with wives and children!
Do You Realize???. A massive celebratory send-off. Wayne talked about how some individuals in the audience were likely burdened by sadness, and how he was happy that they could come to the show and escape for a little while. It was touching and sincere. It was a call to reach out, to lift, to realize: The sun doesn't go down. It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round.

Song of the Week

2011-09-14T20:14:00.000-07:00

The future of music is here. Or at least the sound of the future. Chillwave, with its processed effects--vocals, synthesizers, loops--is a compelling reclamation project: sifting through the musical scrapheap of yesterday in order to build the sonic structures of tomorrow. Call it an Era Extrana. Neon Indian would. Enjoy "Polish Girl" from Austin, Texas' coolest cyborg. One thing we always learn in these videos: virtual love affairs are elusive. No wonder Max Headroom never had a girlfriend. (Check out a sweet live performance on "Fallon" last night).

Music and Memory

2011-09-11T07:00:00.000-07:00

The D Man will always remember.

Just a few months earlier, I proposed to Mrs. D Man on the top of the Empire State Building. I gazed down Manhattan and admired the brilliant strength of those mighty towers. It was a beautiful and clear day in May, not unlike that day in September. I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me, surrounded by New Yorkers and tourists. She gave me the most excited hug of her life.

On September 11, 2001, my brothers were working downtown, on the 50th and 52nd floors, just a few blocks away. From his office, Rip saw the second plane hit and immediately made his way to his family in Brooklyn Heights. Separated in the chaos, Rizzo saw the towers come down from below. He made his way to the shoreline and walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, seeking out his brother, covered in the terrible ash from the unspeakable evil. For our family, like so many others, it was a day of anger, worry, and heartbreak.

Upon reflection, my emotions are still raw and can easily make their way to the surface. Ten years later, my thoughts go out to all of the brave men and women. To all of their families and loved ones. To this great country, so capable and full of goodness.

Enjoy Ryan Adams "New York, New York."

Five Things

2011-09-08T20:12:00.000-07:00

(Philly's The War on Drugs)

Need some rock? Check out the ringing tones on "Coming Through," a sweet new track from The War On Drugs. Or enjoy the angular, fuzzy riffing on concert-ready "Keep Me Waiting" from Cymbals Eat Guitars.
Speaking of indie-rock guitar workouts, The D Man still pines for the accessible and arty guitar-doodles of Stephen Malkmus' 2001 solo debut. Thankfully, on Mirror Traffic, alongside his band The Jicks, Malkmus tones down the recently proggy fretwork and delivers something tighter, even breezier. Check out the video for "Tigers."
Cass McCombs is releasing a second full-length in 2011. The new album is definitely not "The Same Thing."
"All Alone." Not when you're freaking out with Toro y Moi.
Check out track number one (below) from M83's forthcoming double-album, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. Simply titled "Intro." Given that this massive-sounding song is the first thing listeners will hear on the new record, there is now little doubt that Anthony Gonzalez is moving beyond epic. Our friend Zola Jesus makes an awe-inducing appearance, too.

Intro (ft Zola Jesus) by M83

Song of the Week

2011-09-05T12:59:00.000-07:00

Cool video for a killer track from Kaputt. Dan Bejar awaits. Hey Mystic Prince of the Purlieu at Night, I heard your record, it's all right.

Music and Memory

2011-09-01T19:53:00.000-07:00

While eating lunch at a local brewery with a group of friends from work, Beth Orton's "Central Reservation" came on. I turned to Stark the Vinyl Shark and said, "I like this song," but he did not hear me because his onion rings were too distracting. Then, this morning during an early run, "Paris Train" hit at the right moment as the sun started to fracture in the mouth of the canyon. I said to myself, "I love this song." No one listened again.

The D Man picked up Beth Orton's Daybreaker in the fall of 2002, my last year of college. I remember listening to the album while going to a friend's football game, the air rich with leaves and schoolkids. "Concrete Sky" was the easy standout, with backing vocals from none other than Ryan Adams. (Johnny Marr was actually given a writing credit for "Concrete Sky," while Adams received one for "This One's Gonna Bruise."). There was a sense of hope in the hopelessness that I gravited to, and to this day, I really enjoy listening to that song.

Later that year, I told my critical theory professor that I listened to Orton. She brought up several female singers she enjoyed, so I felt compelled to give such an acceptable response. Orton's music surfaced again the next summer as Mrs. D Man and I set out across the country for law school. I chose the evocative album to accompany our drive through the first mountain pass as we left our hometown. Sadly, Orton has never approached the strength of her work on Daybreaker. But I suppose we'll always have Paris.

Song of the Week

2011-08-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

The new track "Lucky Now" could be a reference to Ryan Adams' newfound peace alongside Mandy Moore, Mrs. D Man's favorite celebrity wife. Who knows? But one thing is certain: Adams has penned so many great, imminently listenable country rock songs, it is difficult to deny the talent stoked from his creative embers. He releases Ashes & Fire in October, his first proper album since 2007's Easy Tiger. Enjoy.

Song of the Week

2011-08-18T18:55:00.000-07:00

The D Man recently mentioned Bon Iver's epoch "Holocene." Well, now follows the appropriately epic video. With the backdrop of Iceland as a formidable walking companion, the video follows a boy on a grand, solitary adventure. Walking stick in hand, the boy traverses plains, hills, fjords, glaciers, and lava fields. He skips rocks. He climbs. He listens. During his ultimate triumph, amid the song's icy wistfulness, not even the northern sun can prevent shivers up the spine.

Five Things

2011-08-14T19:13:00.000-07:00

(Justin Vernon is Bon Iver)

The D Man's always enjoys the next several months. As for the music, most albums just sound better this time of year. Happy listening.

Bon Iver's epoch (pun intended) "Holocene" is profoundly moving. Enjoy a fan's take on a video with stop-motion animation.
The National held a fan contest for the song "Exile Vilify." This is the most depressing sock puppet on the planet.
Hopefully you caught Radiohead perform King of Limbs live on In The Basement. (Check your listings on Palladia, I've seen some reruns floating around). Enjoy "Seperator." In September, the band kicks off the season premiere of Saturday Night Live too.
Kanye and Jay-Z capture the tag-team belt on new album Watch the Throne. Check out the Spike Jonze video for "Otis." There are several excellent boasts ("I write my curses in cursive"), several references to driving a Benz, and several skinny couture white chicks. Everyone seems to be having a good time.
Fountains of Wayne never do harm. And they recently released Sky Full of Holes. Check out "Someone's Going to Break Your Heart."

Song of the Week

2011-08-08T19:53:00.000-07:00

Hang on to summer as long as you can. August (and everything after) comes plenty soon. Brooklyn dream-poppers Pains of Being Pure and Heart understand this bittersweet truth. On the video for "The Body," the band members, stuck in the throes of real life, ruminate on their younger selves and the glory of summer. Endless, endless summer.

Fleet Foxes

2011-07-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

The residue lingers. The D Man still has swelling harmonies rising in his chest. Mrs. D Man and I enjoyed Fleet Foxes on a lovely summer night, the breeze trailing down through the mouth of the canyon and circling in the gentle ravine. Even the company was great, offsetting some of the scenesters there for anything but the music. The Harringtons brought soothing concert experience and delivered with the cheese and crackers. The Crocketts aced the root beer and supplied the chairs (after somehow managing to bring them up the hill on their bikes). Sitting under the stars, The D Man wondered whether the pioneers overlooking the valley from near this spot could have envisioned such a carefree evening. Thanks to them, too, and thanks to the Seattle-based band for bringing the tunes.

The Cascades.
Grown Ocean. One of the best tracks from Helplessness Blues. Too bad the canyon wind had yet to die down, as it warped some of the sound coming from the speakers.
Drops in the River. A fantastic track from the band's debut Sun Giant EP.
Battery Kinzie.
Bedouin Dress.
Sim Sala Bim.
Mykonos. For The D Man, this is when the concert officially started. The wind had settled, allowing Pecknold's warm vocal power to emanate throughout the amphitheater. The song's deep history sounded huge and vital. Thrilling even. Brother you don't need to turn me away. I was waiting down at the ancient gate. Maybe the best moment of the night.
Your Protector.
Tiger Mountain Peasant Song.
White Winter Hymnal. The D Man called this one of the best songs of the new century. Hearing it live consummated its peculiar genius, its inherent feeling that it has been around for centuries, sung in the round by travelers on some Chaucerian trek. Its harmonic past is almost palpable.
Ragged Wood. The band ripped right into "Ragged Wood," a glorious three-suite strummer that will make your bones shiver even in late summer. The band plays harder than you would imagine on some of these songs.
Lorelai.
Montezuma.
He Doesn't Know Why.
The Shrine / An Argument.
Blue Ridge Mountains. I love you, I love you, oh brother of mine. Arguably the definitive song in the band's catalog, Pecknold's forest-glen mysticism is a conjurer's art, especially when you consider he penned this song at about 20 years of age.
Blue Spotted Tail.
Encore
Oliver James. Pecknold front and center, alone with a guitar. His soaring voice calling out Oliver James. Question: Why in the night sky are the lights hung? Answer: On this night, just for this.
Helplessness Blues. The most brilliant mid-song shift of the year; the song's second half is a fleeting burst of imaginative clarity and harmony. With two classic American albums under his belt before the age of 25, Pecknold (and company) have created something timely and timeless.

Beyond the Arc

2011-07-21T19:43:00.000-07:00

Brent Barry played 14 years in the NBA. He threw out dimes and dunked on lesser men. Now, he dispenses his basketball wisdom on television. But do you know what he would rather be doing? Well, okay, surfing. But after that? Listening to some great tunes. That's right, Brent is a massive music fan. He has impeccable taste and attends live shows all over the country. He makes excellent recommendations and loves to talk about artists. So, of course, Brent begged to have a recurring feature on this blog.

But The D Man had some lingering questions. Primarily, would he be up to the task? Sure, Brent can still throw down and apparently has mad pinball skills. Sure, Brent hooked The D Man up with backstage Pearl Jam action (as written about here). Sure, Brent catches waves with the likes of Vedder and Slater. But could Brent handle the pressure from The D Man's loyal cadre of readers? Could Brent dish the dirt like he could dish the rock? Or would we just hear about people at Phish concerts?

Well, my (obviously made-up) doubts were vanquished when Brent decided to write his first post about My Morning Jacket. The shredding gods of American rock'n'roll. Live in Seattle. The same place where Brent used to rain threes from the Puget Sound. How appropriate, then, that his feature will be called Beyond the Arc. Make it rain, Bones.

* * * * *

The opening gong might as well have signified that the doors were opening to the path of enlightenment. My Morning Jacket at the Paramount Theatre in Seattle was a transformational evening for me and the roughly 800 attendees. I was familiar with several albums but was not yet ready for the power of the live ball of energy that the band was able to produce, as each song built upon the other, offering up incredible solos and unearthly energy that no album alone can hold. Most of the Circuital tracks made their way to the set list, but the stand out for me was "One Big Holiday." The intro gets me every time and it was crisp and precise, which also describes the entire night's drumming by Patrick Hallahan. (Ed. note: in this more recent version, you can actually see James' face).

Thank you Jim James for haunting my dreams for several weeks following the show. See you at ACL. Amazing how much music I like today has been borrowed by these guys (Band of Horses) and the etherial monstrosities they create. Glad they continue to stay in the lab . . . .

Song of the Week

2011-07-19T19:50:00.000-07:00

Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. That's the name of M83's sure-to-be-awesome double album (twenty two tracks!) to be released in October. The D Man absolutely geeked out today while listening to the new single, "Midnight City." The track is pure sensory overload, and it literally got me through a long afternoon of legal tedium. Anthony Gonzelez's complete mastery of cinematic and cerebral electro-pop textures is on full display, as the ménage à trois of drum machines, laser synths, and saxophones feel like they were destined to be together. (Sorry for the bad French pun, but Gonzalez is now the coolest dude to ever hail from France). As the opening track of what is supposed to be a "very, very, very epic" album, the song naturally extends the pop magic of Saturdays = Youth and envelops it in the wide-screen electronica of Before the Dawn Heals Us. Stoked that you get to listen to this right now.

Song of the Week

2011-07-13T17:55:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, The D Man and Stewboy helped Chad Murphy (legally) transition out of his stake in the local label, Exumbrella Records, where the likes of TaughtMe have found a home. Chad was heading to graduate school then, and he has since attended the University of Chicago and Penn State, presumably in the realm of creative writing. As anyone that knows him will tell you, Chad is a micro-culture renaissance man of sorts, as he has fronted bands (check out Electoral College), supported local music, painted with oils, and generated all-around good vibes.

So it is with real pleasure that The D Man shares Chad's most recent musical project. Under the moniker Markarians (so cosmic and deep!), he has released an excellent five-song EP titled Ten Means Heaven. Chad wrote, recorded, mixed, and mastered everything himself. His dreamy DIY sound is riddled with laid-back galactic energy, a sweet amalgamation of soft-psychedelia, acoustic strums, and bedroom thoughtfulness. The D Man recognizes the faintest sonic trace of Kurt Vile's ambling guitar passions, but Chad's lyrical dexterity surpasses even those comparisons.

Check out the quirky video for "Strangers II." The D Man can only guess at the genesis of the footage, but I would venture that Chad made the best use of his environment during a Murphy family getaway. The bathrobes, hot tubs, and trailways are populated by Chad and his seriously ripped brothers. (Some of his siblings play collegiate and professional football). Even Chad's father (and two-time National League MVP!) makes a cameo at the end of the song. Good vibes, indeed.

In an email to a friend, Chad described Ten Means Heaven as follows:

This is an album interested in exploring the miraculousness of life, the origin of our species, and the nutritional content of breakfast cereals. The intent was to balance weighty, deadly serious themes with the absurd, everyday questions and concerns that consume our lives. Hopefully this combination of seriousness and absurdity can offer some sort of new perspective on the totally amazing and hilarious premise underlying each of Life's Big Questions, as well as on the significance of the seemingly trivial aspects of our day-to-day lives.

In the end, though, it's just songs.

You can download Ten Means Heaven for free. The D Man highly recommends doing so--the final minute of the awesome "Rip Through Sunsets" is worth your hard-earned cash, and Chad is nice (or crazy) enough to give it away.

Toad the Wet Sprocket

2011-07-07T22:34:00.000-07:00

One of the The D Man's most memorable dates (with his future wife) was seeing Toad the Wet Sprocket in concert. We hit the H.O.R.D.E. Festival (how's that for some 90s nostalgia?) in Park City and procured spots next to the stage for the Santa Barbara band's opening set. We saw the Squirrel Nut Zippers, Primus, and Neil Young & Crazyhorse. Mid-day, Neil even treated festival-goers to an impromptu solo acoustic set in between all of the booths selling hemp and world peace. We listened to "Heart of Gold" right next to him sitting on his stool. But the best part of the day: hearing Glen Phillips and company live. That, and my super hot date.

Toad the Wet Sprocket is as uncool, unedgy, and underappreciated as a band can get, even during the height of their 90s run. They are embarrasingly earnest with letter-perfect arrangements that hover somewhere between pop and softer shades of rock. Despite (or maybe because of) those qualifiers, they are a terrific band. Their straightforward sense of songcraft belies the intricate interplay of their chorus hooks and noteworthy timing and delivery. This is to say nothing of Phillips' pleasing voice (which we decided last night doesn't sound like anyone else, and we meant that as the highest of compliments). Toad the Wet Sprocket might not impress your uber-cool friends. But your Mom will like them. Because they are pretty damn good.

Rizzo and The D Man enjoyed a great set from the approachable band. (Don't worry, still married to my festival mate, but Mrs. D Man just happened to be out of town). The band played in downtown SLC as part of a summer festival concert series. During the set, Phillips announced--much to my delight--that they would be recording their first new album in almost fifteen years. (The group's absence was less of a breakup and more of a hiatus to raise families and explore other opportunities). The band as always sounded clean and crisp--it was something of a professional clinic in precision musicmaking.

Something's Always Wrong. Phillips has a knack for singing depressing lyrics that still make you feel hopeful, even buoyant. The same goes for the band's excellent down-tempo numbers, which they mostly dispensed with for the summer crowd.
What I Fear the Most.
Fly From Heaven. Paul is making me nervous. Paul is making me scared.
Crowing. Someone recently asked me what I thought was the most underrated album of the 1990s. Dulcinea was the first record that came to mind, although I'm sure there are plenty of others. This pretty song is an illustration of the band's overarching willingness to impart its melodic gifts, its belief in a shared goodness. The D Man is certain that writing a song like this is not nearly as easy as it sounds.
Good Intentions.
Inside.
Windmills. I spend too much time raiding windmills. Still one of my favorite songs in their catalog. I love the wide-open, wind-blown metaphors. Is this an insight into the Quixotic quest for the pale-faced Dulcinea? Or is it something more personal? Hearing this reminded me again of how much this band meant to me.
Is It For Me. The exuberant guitars and chorus climax sounded first-rate. Made me happy.
New Song. The two new songs sounded terrific. The first was a slide-guitar backed number with a driving, woozy feel to it. The second was a little groovier, a kind of heavy jam that still retained the band's cohesive vibe.
New Song.
Come Back Down.
Nightingale Song. The hardcore fans still go crazy when the tambourine comes out.
Finally Fading. This track from Phillips' solo album was a nice change of pace.
Crazy Life.
All I Want. Confessing everythiiiiiiiing. As Phillips tuned his guitar before playing, I remembered how this song was actually a last-minute addition to Fear because the band was unsure about its unique tuning. Turned out to be one their biggest hits.
Brother.
Fall Down.
Come Down.
Ziggy.
Walk On the Ocean. Could a song like this even get airplay on today's radio? Without any notes to introduce the song, the opening lyrics still shine like the ray of hope they were meant to be.

Five Things

2011-07-06T20:15:00.000-07:00

(M83's Anthony Gonzalez)

The D Man has sort of felt bad ever since he posted ten of the coolest records he owns. So many albums just feel left out, I may have to do another entry. So it goes. Check out these five things--all cool enough.

M83's 2009 album Saturdays = Youth was epic. Anthony Gonzalez recently said that his next electronic opus would be "very, very, very epic" and "mostly about dreams." If the 90-second trailer for the forthcoming album is any indication, it is going to be awesome.
Check out the cool trailer for a documentary on Mark Kozelek over at his Caldo Verde Records site. A Cameron Crowe interview with Kozelek will be featured on the Sun Kil Moon website on August 16th, the date of the DVD's release. The D Man is, of course, stoked to check out the live takes and other goodies. Here is hoping for some behind-the-scenes footage in Rip's backyard.
Junior Boys are as smooth as ever.
Coz except for her, there just ain't nothing to latch onto. Check out the skater-love video for Kurt Vile's "Baby's Arms," vividly shot by a cell phone. Tag some walls and you'll get some action.
This is strange and heavy stuff.

Song of the Week

2011-06-29T07:04:00.000-07:00

Coldplay still insists on wearing on some kind of uniform. They have dropped the slightly militant pan-global commie garb from Viva La Vida and replaced it with a version that Wham! would have appreciated. Bright colors. Some pastels. The vibe is supposed to be all new wavey and danceable. And you know what? It is. "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall" is an enjoyable blast of guitar pop with a heavy dose of tinny keyboards that makes you wonder what in the world happened to this band. Enjoy it anyway. Plus, Coldplay have the cash to make some solid performance videos, and the graphic art used in this clip is no exception.

10 of the Coolest Records of the Last 20 Years

2011-06-25T20:01:00.000-07:00

Remember Uncanny X-Men #282 when Bishop came through a time portal from a dystopian future? Where mutants had been hunted and killed? Where he had been branded with an "M" over a portion of his face? Well, over the next several issues, Bishop battled the X-Men and brandished his awesome mutant ability to absorb all forms of radiant energy and conduct it back through his hands (resulting in sweet covers like this and this). That was cool.*

The D Man knows cool. Since Bishop came from the future, The D Man's understanding has only accelerated over the past twenty years. I may not always exude cool myself, or, candidly, try (too hard) to do so. But I have a keen appreciation for people, places, and things that are, inherently, cool. (Just like you, my loyal cadre of readers).

So what is cool when it comes to music? Much like the Supreme Court's definition for obscene material, The D Man just knows it when he sees it. Like my Grandpa's Ray Price 8-track tapes in his old green truck. (Cool). Like Erlend Oye hopping off the stage after his set to dance with the small crowd. (Very cool). Like playing Rock Band with Mark Kozelek. (Off-the-charts cool.)

So, naturally, The D Man's record collection is cool. According to this recent matrix, my collection is a purposeful mix (sorry Scots!) of lowbrow (Glasvegas), middlebrow (Frightened Rabbit), and highbrow (Belle & Sebastian). I run heavy on the indie rock, with great swaths of Americana, pop, and electronic music. I even have a carefully cultivated R&B and hip-hop section, just like a reverse black dude with his limited fare of George Michael or John Mayer.

But somewhere among the rabblement, The D Man owns some records that are flat out cool. The following albums are cool by virtue of a hip contextual melange of meaning, backstory, artwork, and vibe, to name just a few of the critical ingredients. So enjoy. And let The D Man know what other records belong in the club of cool. Bishop is waiting.

Incesticide by Nirvana (1992). The D Man remembers his strange attraction to this weird, messy album of older demos and rarities. It sounded nothing like the full-scale production assault on Nevermind. The music was raw, forceful, and the cover art seemed scandalous, even scary. (In the liner notes, Cobain is credited with the artwork under the moniker Kurdt Kobain). The D Man played the album in his basement bedroom and thrilled at the adoloscent terror of "Sliver"--after all, who couldn't relate to being dropped off at Grandma's place for just a little too long? The likes of "Turnaround," "Molly's Lips," and "Been A Son" all displayed Cobain's driving, melodic pop gifts underneath all of the fury. Cobain was cool. Can there even be an argument over that?

(The Rollercoaster Album) by Red House Painters (1993). On the band's second eponymous album (for super-cool label 4AD), Mark Kozelek entered into the rarified realm of cult adoration that continues through the present day. The sepia-toned image of a long-vanished roller coaster is the stark reminder of things past, things forgotten--and a visual entry point to this album's beautiful nostalgia and devastating sadness. Kozelek penned powerful "slow-core" songs in the middle of grunge's heyday, his brilliant lyrics pointed and pretty. "Grace Cathedral Park," "The Katy Song," and "Mistress" are potent reminders of furtive creativity linked by youth, love, and loss.

Wowee Zowee by Pavement (1995). Everything about this record is cool. The cover is a blast of pop-art magic. The music is an eclectic, scatterbrained collection of spontaneous riffs and art-rock ditties. If you believe Stephen Malkmus, Pavement's super left turn on album number three was due to excessive marijuana consumption. Couched between two classic albums and the band's more refined pop approach on their last two efforts, Wowee Zowee is an indie-rock pinnacle of smart, messy, Enlish-major-drop-out guitar rock.

Clouds Taste Metallic by The Flaming Lips (1995). The Flaming Lip's seventh album is fuzzed-out psyche-rock bliss. The last album to feature killer guitarist Ronald Jones, Clouds Taste Metallic is the Lips finest collection of guitar-based songs. Of course, The Lips have gone on to record several cool records since (The Soft Bulletin, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Embryonic), but Clouds captures the whimsical , anything-goes sound that defined the band before its current festival prowess. Recently, when Wayne Coyne blazed a war of words with Arcade Fire in the press, even Win Butler conceded that Clouds Taste Metallic was a huge record (while dishing it right back to Wayne). When a record deserves an aside in a press battle between two indie-rock titans, you know it is cool. Check out "The Abandoned Hospital Ship," an unbelievably cool album opener.

Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite by Maxwell (1996). A serious departure from the ghetto culture of 90's R&B, Maxwell's debut album was a refreshing, groovy, soulful nod to the sexual healing of vintage crooners like Marvin Gaye. Showcasing Maxwell's incredible pipes and serious commitment to relationships (albeit super-sexy relationships), the album's cover ditched the usual photo of the cool soul-singer for a retro invitation to knock the boots. Granted, the fact that this record came out during The D Man's make-out prime--and that he was probably the only guy spinning it in his high school (hello ladies!)--made it that much cooler.

Agaetis Byrjun by Sigur Ros (2001). Iceland's Sigur Ros established their near-mythic status with their second album, which introduced savvy listeners to sounds they could not have imagined: lush, ambient post-rock orchestration helmed by lead singer Jonsi Birgisson's otherwordly vocals and cello-bowed guitarwork. Songs like "Staralfur" or "Svenfn-g-englar" were unlike anything we've heard before, and both were used to great aplomb in movies and videos. Overly earnest and little pretentious? Maybe. But artists have spent ages to sound so wholly original. Which could explain the alien fetus on the cover art. Or not.

When I Said I Wanted to Be Your Dog (2004). Lekman's first proper album, When I Said I Wanted to Be Your Dog, established the Swede as the go-to troubadour of pop earnestness and romantic melancholy. Lekman's witty, sample-laden tracks are unforgettable, and his Morrissey-esque voice carries tunes to exquisite little epiphanies. Sure, his subsequent albums are probably better in terms of melody and polish, but there is a wistful majesty to the lo-fi production, a magic to the small (and funny) stories of heartbreak and misunderstanding. She said it was all make believe / But I thought you said maple leaves. A lyric sums up the humor, pathos, and sweetness that Lekman reveals in his clever little songs.

And the Glass-Handed Kites by Mew (2006). The cover photograph is downright frightening, a nod to the grotesque that earned the dubious distinction of one of the worst album covers of the year. (Of course, the so-bad-it's-cool cover actually works in the album's favor here). The Danish band's songs are epic, musical pageantry, connected together as a single continuous suite, resulting in a dark fantasy kingdom that delivers a sweeping blend of shoegaze, metal, and prog-rock. These guys look great in front of a camera, and it is a shame that their music will never be performed in a U2-style arena setting, as they are one of the only indies on the planet that could actually pull off a stratospheric show. The overdramatic song titles--see "Circuitry of the Wolf," "The Seeting Rain Weeps for You," "Apocalypso"--are often sung in the highest of male registers. Indeed, "Zookeeper's Boy" is in the running for the best falsetto rock song of all time. Now that is cool.

Gemini by Wild Nothing (2010). Wild Nothing's dreamy, shoegaze guitar-pop hints at the ineffable. Gemini is awash with starry-eyed synths, crystalline guitars, and fuzzy atmospherics, reimagining a vein of iridescent, wistful, 1980's pop music. Jack Tatum's debut is an understated affair that sulks, seeps, and sears into listeners romance-fueled memories, and the album is a clear indication that he is an unabashed fan of his brooding and melodic forbears, the touchstones that mopey teens of yesterday listened to and adored (Joy Division, The Cure, The Cocteau Twins). Cool company, indeed.

Kaputt by Destroyer (2011). To date, the most beguiling record of the year. If you're cool, or you really want to be cool, you should check it out. You can always come current.

*For whatever reason, Uncanny X-Men #282 to #293, ultimately leading into the X-Cutioner's Song saga, was one of my all-time favorite run of comics. Cool.

Song of the Week

2011-06-16T22:22:00.000-07:00

The D Man just snagged his Foo Fighters tickets for a show this October. And why not? Dave Grohl and company are one of the few bands that actually rock and sound good while doing it, let alone that regular dudes actually listen to them. But the real reason? The last time The D Man saw the band he was privy to an epic moshpit, where he doled out some epic hits (to some epic hits). Hoping for some more. Check out the goofy new video for "Walk" from Wasting Light.

Five Things

2011-06-06T19:03:00.000-07:00

The D Man's birthday is this week. Just starting to hit his prime. Just starting to discover what makes him tick. As for the music . . .

The D Man hit Iron & Wine over the weekend. The lo-fi folkie brought backup singers, saxophones, and some funk-jams to his set, comprised mostly of the gold-dappled pop from his latest effort, Kiss Each Other Clean. Even a few of the oldies were reworked and given an up-tempo sheen. The outfit sounded great, but left The D Man pining for at least a few hushed solos. A few birds stealing bread.
My Morning Jacket was featured on VH1 Storytellers last week. Not your usual cable fare. Jim James, another bearded guitar god of sorts, brought some American thunder and mixed in some new tunes from Circuital.
So Coldplay has a new single out. "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall." Apparently, the band's charts, graphs, and analyses led them to believe the kids are digging keyboards, synthy vocals, and other retro stylings, right down to the rainbow color palette and choice of font. As long as Gwyneth doesn't do the backup vocals, I suppose we can manage.
Death Cab released another video in support of Codes and Keys. Check out "Home Is A Fire."
Ukelele Songs. Not exactly the most thrilling invite. But we at least owe Eddie Vedder a listen, right? No matter how disorienting it might get?

Song of the Week

2011-05-29T06:55:00.000-07:00

You stuck a pin in the map I was in, and this is a note from the roadside. During a rainy Memorial Day weekend, some music best captures the companion feelings of looking back and going home. The D Man was inspired by Elbow's "Dear Friends," the last track on Build A Rocket Boys! It is a beautiful, traditional British pop song, expertly crafted, and a great closer to the opening magic of "Lippy Kids." The D Man is grateful for all those that have gone before him, and those stars that he currently navigates home by.

U2

2011-05-25T07:27:00.000-07:00

By my count, U2 played seven songs from the 80's, seven songs from the 90's, and nine songs from the 00's. Relevant songs. There is not another band on the planet that can do such a thing. (Sorry R.E.M., I really like your new album, but your last decade was rough). Perhaps the most satisfying thing about the concert was being enveloped in this staying power. Experiencing the relevance. Four lads from Ireland still playing together thirty years later. They look great. And they sound great. Sure, Bono has a sleight Messiah-complex, but there is no one with his level of fame and access that has had his heart in the right place more often. The D Man enjoyed every minute of the spectacle.

Even Better Than The Real Thing. The Edge's dance-fueled, buzzsaw guitars ripped forth. A great opener.
I Will Follow. A nod to longtime fans from the band's first album, Boy.
Get On Your Boots
Magnificent
Mysterious Ways
Elevation. Some of the band's best work the last decade has clearly been inspired by playing in outsized stadiums all over the world. This song is no exception. A pan-global rock song that everyone just gets. Absolutely kicked.
Until the End of the World. Love this song from the band's sonic masterpiece, Achtung Baby. Sounds as fresh, vital, and original as it did twenty years ago. Nothing quite like those shimmering, dance-addled tracks that helped U2 take over the world a second time.
All I Want Is You
Stay (Faraway, So Close!). The Edge pulled out the acoustic guitar and did just fine in slowing things down. Bono looks better than he has in years. He has lost weight and looks rejuvenated after his back surgery--even joked he has a new spine. His vocals were as good as they have ever been--he was born to front a band and bring God's message of rock to the masses.
Beautiful Day. The D Man loves this song. Maybe his favorite soaring U2 lyric: Reach me, I know I'm not a hopeless case. Isn't that the message of messages? We are not cast off forever.
Pride (In The Name of Love). The mere fact that The Edge can pierce the heavens--while strolling around so casually, so stoically--makes him one of the five best guitarists of all time. Not to mention one of the coolest dudes ever. His ringing, pedal-fied guitar tectonics altered the rock landscape forever, delivering post-punk riffs to the globe and leaving behind the (even in 1980) tired blues-based guitar tropes. His mighty axe is the sound of the cosmos moving.
Miss Sarajevo. Bono even broke into some Italian on this one. He had a cheat sheet on the floor of the bridge to help him out. The D Man holds no grudges, as I can hardly speak proper English.
Zooropa. The (incredible) visual round came down over the top of the band and formed a glittering hive. Showtime!
City of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
Crazy Tonight
Sunday Bloody Sunday. The most righteous march of all time? How long must we sing this song?
Walk On. Bono helped free a Burmese lady from prison. The D Man is all about setting people free. And a big proponent of keeping only the bad ones in jail.
One
Where The Streets Have No Name. The screen flashed iconic images of the young band, circa 1987, walking through the California desert. The Joshua Tree. The song's matchless, epic exploration of Self and America is still inspiring.
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me
With or Without You
Moment of Surrender

Five Things

2011-05-19T19:00:00.000-07:00

The D Man's iPod has been on shuffle. Early morning workouts are one way to rediscover the deep tracks that you love. Enjoy some great tunes that had me excited all over again. These five random songs are worth a listen.

"Tell Me Ten Words" by Idlewild. The Scottish band's 2002 album, The Remote Part, is an excellent record of slightly-downcast anthems and post-punk yearnings. When the bass line comes in at thirty seconds, "Tell Me Ten Words" releases a nervous energy underneath all those pretty acoustic strums, and the song takes off looking for answers. "American English" was the band's U2/Coldplay moment, and "In Remote Part/Scottish Fiction" a national symbol of sorts. But "Tell Me Ten Words" is the band carving out something of their own.
"Streamside" by The Album Leaf. Jimmy LaValle makes radiant ambient music with a heft that is more than mere background pleasantries. His 2004 release, In A Safe Place, was recorded with the help of Jón Þór Birgisson and other members of Sigur Rós in their Iceland studio. While much of the record's sound is glacial beauty, "Streamside" is warmed by a northern sun and feels like the emerging possibility of verdant growth.
"Love Don't Owe You Anything" by Strays Don't Sleep. A short-lived, one-album collaboration between Nashville's Matthew Ryan and Neilsen Hubbard, Strays Don't Sleep was a minimalist tour-de-force of pain, loss, and reconciliation. "Love Don't Owe You Anything" thrives by creating dark-hued spaces between the guitar strums and the singular, cascading piano line. And Ryan's plaintive vocals reaches for an epiphany: I thought I understood / Now I understand.
"Your Arms Around Me" by Jens Lekman. Enter swirling harps. The song's premise is both mundane and ridiculous. But the payoff is a glorious vocal hook over a perfect marriage of R&B beats and high-minded violins. Two lovers are preparing for a picnic. The man cuts his finger while slicing avacados. He passes out and is rushed to the emergency room. All that matters? You put your arms around me. Thank you, Jens.
"AAA" by Paul Westerberg. This scruffy tune takes me back to summers past. From a fine double-album of basement rock by the former Replacements frontman, the song is a desperate kiss-off, stranded in some parking lot. I aint got anything to say to anyone, anymore.

Song of the Week

2011-05-16T20:12:00.000-07:00

Bon Iver's self-titled second album comes out in June--not exactly the depths of winter. But for music this cathartic, context readily dissolves. Check out "Calgary," a powerful (and seamless) transition from the Wisconsite's first full length, For Emma, Forever Ago. You may recall it was the best album of 2008. Bonus: check out the making of the beautiful Midwestern winter scene that doubles as the album cover art.

Stark the Vinyl Shark: Heady Nuggs (Vol. I)

2011-05-10T18:55:00.000-07:00

Hi. My name is Joe and I never get up before 6 a.m.--unless it is Record Store Day. In four short years, RSD has become something of a national holiday if not a national phenomenon. Falling on the third Saturday in April, what started as a small effort to boost business for local independent record stores has turned into a nation-wide celebration of music and community, and, of course, a treasure trove of exclusive vinly releases.

I was first in line at Slowtrain Records on April 16th with good reason. I wanted to give myself a good chance to snatch up some pretty exciting exclusives including: The Flaming Lips: Heady Nuggs – The First Five Warner Bros. Albums (1992-2002), various My Morning Jacket picture discs, Ryan Adams & The Cardinals Class Mythology EP on colored 7’’ singles, and a re-issue of the classic Fleetwood Mac album Rumours pressed at Pallas on two slabs of heavy weight 45 rpm vinyl, ensuring the highest fidelity playback possible.

While waiting in line for the 10 a.m. opening time, I was able to chat a bit with other vinyl fanatics in line with me. For the most part, we all had unique items we were looking for though there was one common thread that ran through all of our lists: The Flaming Lips Box Set.

So what makes a re-issued vinyl box of five Flaming Lips albums so desirable? Especially on a day with hundreds of other releases, most of which are available of the first time ever? To answer this, we first need to cover a little vinyl history. In the 90’s, when the vast majority of these Flaming Lips albums were released (Hit to Death in the Future Head - 1992, Transmissions from the Satellite Heart- 1993, Clouds Taste Metallic – 1995, and The Soft Bulletin - 1999 ) the CD was king, and vinyl barely had a pulse. These albums were pressed in small amounts, went out of print quickly, and with low demand for vinyl, stayed that way. The two exceptions to this are The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. Given this drought of Flaming Lips LPs available over the years, many vinyl aficionados were clamoring to get their hands on a Heady Nuggs box set.

So how does it look?

For the casual and diehard fan alike, this box set is beautiful and sets the bar for releases of this nature. These five albums, spread over six LPs are housed in a heavy duty box with never before released alternate artwork. Weighing in at over 10 lbs., even the most demanding fans can rest assured every LP has been recreated with care and an eye for detail. This box set is limited to 6,000 units, mine being #5,023.

So how does it sound?

Much like The Flaming Lips release from Record Store Day 2010: The Flaming Lips and Stardeath and White Dwarfs with Henry Rollins and Peaches Doing the Dark Side of the Moon, these albums sound great. I do not own originals of any albums in the box, with the exception of The Soft Bulletin, so I have compared the sound quality to my CDs only. It is an obvious improvement, with the first noticeable difference being a more established low end, and a warmer sound overall. Some of the 90’s Lips releases suffer from a bright CD master, leaving the listener with a diminished representation of what was created in the studio. This is the case with Hit to Death in the Future Head, which sounds amazing on vinyl. It is nice to know the producers gave us a mix that is not too loud or too soft. The instrumentation is brought out nicely, and not distorted at high volume.

Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots is the obvious sonic gem of the bunch. An album full of rich texture is brought to life beautifully on vinyl; all of the detail you are used to on the CD master is here, as well as content you aren’t used to hearing. Yoshimi could be one of the best modern day re-masters in my collection.

All five albums sound great here, and I’m excited to add these great albums to my growing collection. If you are a Lips fan and want to get your hands on one, check Ebay, as the entire run of these boxes is officially sold out.

Stark the Vinyl Shark

2011-05-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

Joe Stark hails from Minnesota. He collects vinyl. He shaved his beard and didn't like it. So he is growing it back. That is what you need to know. Recently, The D Man and Stark had the following email exchange that led to the Vinyl Shark landing a guest spot on The D Man's Music.

Stark: Have you even listened to Bat out of Hell? You have dished out some pretty heavy judgment on the 'Loaf today . . .
The D Man: Everyone has heard Meatloaf, Joe. He is fun (or funny) for a short time. Like some Broadway plays. But Bat Out of Hell has sold a hell of a lot of copies. Feel free to burn me a copy if you are so incensed. (Taylor Swift writes her own songs).
Stark: Not incensed at all! I will burn you a copy since it belongs in every collection.
The D Man: I will listen to it for a lark and then immediately dispose of it--that is probably the best I can do.
Stark: It's timeless Rock & Roll. I own three copies of the LP because I wore through the first one I bought in the summer of 2004.
The D Man: Not sure if it's Rock & Roll, but it does use some of the same instruments. Can rock be born out of writing workshops and bad plays? But I get the attraction. It's like Wicked with guitars.
Stark: Nothing wrong with Wicked.
The D Man: But it ain't Rock & Roll.
Stark: Rock & Roll is more than a sound, it's a lifestyle. That's the beauty of it.
The D Man: Exactly my point. Is having someone pen your overwrought stage songs ala Little Mermaid that lifestyle?
Stark: Frank Sinatra didn't write lyrics either, and he was Rock & Roll.
The D Man: Meatloaf ain't Frank Sinatra. Good luck with that comparison.
Stark: I just really enjoy Meatloaf.
The D Man: Now that is about the only real defense you have. Run to the whims of your fancy.
Stark: Feel free to handicap my music criticism accordingly.
The D Man: I'm thinking I need a new feature on the blog with email strings like this.
Stark: I'd be happy to contribute. but you can't just make me look bad with your fancy lawyer powers.

So it begins. Enjoy Stark the Vinyl Shark.

(Note: Meatloaf can currently be seen on Celebrity Apprentice. And The D Man knows every word to "Part of Your World.")

Five Things

2011-05-04T19:22:00.000-07:00

The D Man has several things in the hopper. But that does not preclude me from dishing on some songs I have been enjoying or want to enjoy a little more.

Hospice created emotional wreckage with shards of spinning hope. "I Don't Want Love," a track from The Antlers second album, Burst Apart, picks up the pieces in a most beautiful fashion. Peter Silberman now wants to break your heart with his falsetto.
Nobody does smooth electro-soul like Junior Boys. The Canadian duo's next effort, It's All True, is ready to drop, and the steady pulse of first single "Banana Ripple" will make you believe in effortless R&B from north of the border.
The D Man extolled the virtues of Cass McCombs' last album and looks forward to hearing more new tracks like "County Line." Enjoy a vocal performance that they cannot teach on American Idol. Wo, wo, wo, wo, wo.
Panda Bear's "Afterburner" is really cool.
The D Man got a kick out of the cameo-laced New York City yuckfest, Fight For Your Right (Revisited). Even better? Some of the Beasties' new joints. Check out "Make Some Noise," which feels like a side-two track from Ill Communication, and is a throw back to a sound, style, and era that defined just about everyone ages 30 to 45.

Song of the Week

2011-04-26T20:59:00.000-07:00

Ben Gibbard is now a certified rock star. To emphasize the point, he even married a movie darling (and decent musician in her own right). While The D Man has it on good authority that Gibbard has recently big timed a few friends, at least he is returning to the ebbuliant indie-pop that got him here. Check out the bouncy guitar riffs from "You Are A Tourist," the first single from Death Cab for Cutie's forthcoming record, Codes and Keys. You will like them. Sounds like they belong in The Photo Album.

Song of the Week

2011-04-17T20:00:00.000-07:00

Smart kids need dance music too. Chaz Bundick delivers more than that on his second full-length, Underneath the Pine. A warm, electro-pop affair that leans on the past for inspiration, the album is filtered through an analog lens with groovy beats and ambient immediacy. Combining some of the best elements of chillwave (think Neon Indian) with a deep immersion into sonic textures of yesteryear (think Deerhunter but for dance/pop music), Toro y Moi comes off as the coolest, smartest, grooviest disco-technician in the neighborhood. The new beat, indeed. Enjoy the music video for second single "Still Sound." (Yes, the album cover is a little creepy--Bundick took a self-photo in the mirror as he ate some delicious grapefruit).

Invitations

2011-04-16T20:55:00.000-07:00

The D Man is all about largesse. A generosity of spirit and attitude has always been the aspirational calling card for this blog. The D Man seeks to share the best in popular music. He is sincerely excited about what he shares, and he sees little value in wasting his loyal cadre's precious time in pointing out everything that is wrong with contemporary music. (Plenty). The D Man seeks after music that is enjoyable, artistic, aesthetic, or arresting. Music that is, simply put, praiseworthy. (Enough).

Now it is time to share in the giving, to share in the gift of musical wordsmithing. For the first time ever, The D Man's Music will feature a few guests. To add some wrinkles. To provide some perspective. To bring some much needed copy. So enjoy. In the coming days, these guests will be properly introduced. Hopefully you will check in often and get to know them.

Arcade Fire

2011-04-11T23:00:00.000-07:00

Epics. Anthems. Climaxes. Choruses. Swells. Crests. Builds. Drops. Handclaps. Righteous handclaps. Hey! Ohhhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh. Hey! Arcade Fire's communal earnestness, via eight hard-playing musicians, was on full display during Monday's concert. The band was vibrant, energized, and connected. Their righteous fervor permeated song after song, and there was a sense of militancy in the music that penetrated the heart and made one an instant follower. Sign me up.

The D Man named The Suburbs the Best Album of 2010. So the Grammys followed suit. A towering musical achievement in the field of rock'n'roll deserves to be played out live. (Especially in the same gym where The D Man took home the 2001 three-point contest title). So The D Man went to the concert with Mrs. D Man in tow. Rizzo tagged along. Call it Family Night. After all, Win Butler is married to the chick who plays the accordian and drums, right?

Enjoy some random thoughts on a fantastic set. Eight songs from The Suburbs. Three songs from Neon Bible. Six songs from Funeral (one of the best albums this century). No complaints here. Mrs. D Man had a blast and that is always enough.

Set List

Month of May. They came blistering right out of the gate. With their arms folded tight!
Rebellion (Lies).
Neighborhood #2 (Laika). Alexander. Older brother. If you want something, don't ask for nothing! Absolutely rocked.
City With No Children
Rococo. This song's second half was striking. Maybe my least favorite song on the new album, it came alive during the show. Love it when that happens.
Intervention
The Suburbs. The best moment of the night in a night with best moments? This song's nostalgic childhood potency--in my dreams we're still screaming and running through the yard--arrests your adult heart. The Spike Jonze images from the video played in slow motion throughout, and I was transported to the neighborhood of my youth. Win Butler played the piano and came to a drawn out, solo finish. Sometimes I can't believe it, I'm moving past the feeling again.
Suburban War
No Cars Go. How good was this song live? Very, very good. Hey!
Haiti
We Used to Wait. I used to write letters, I used to sign my name. Butler explained that the handwritten letters in the multimedia video were from his Grandpa Vino, who resided in Sandy, Utah.
Neighborhood #3 (Power Out). Maybe the fiercest song in the band's catalog. The power is out in the heart of man. And everywhere else. Only the grooviest, heaviest guitar solo of the night could possibly save us all.
Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels). Butler explained that he played ball that afternoon and was the direct answer to Jimmer fever. (Cough, cough). After all, he said, how many middle-aged white guys can hit shots from ten feet behind the arc? Besides The D Man, not many.
Wake Up. The D Man named this one of the ten best songs of the last decade. For tonight, it was the best song you've ever heard.
Encore
Ready to Start. Yes, I'm ready. You know I would.
Keep the Car Running. The keys are in the ignition. You will not be leaving without me.
Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains). Regine Chassagne looked lovely and funky most of the night. She brought things home with her lilting, key-board infused march through the mountains. A great closer.

Song of the Week

2011-04-10T17:13:00.000-07:00

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart's second album is no sophomore slump. Belong takes the band's propulsive shoegaze pop from their pleasurable debut and adds a lush layer of early 90's guitar crunch. The hooks are everywhere and the results are accessible, enjoyable, and downright dependable.

Check out the video for the delightful ditty "Heart in Your Heartbreak." The Brooklyn band fools around as guitar store archetypes and manages to bring a smile to your face despite stern opposition. The moral? Don't be the heart in someone's heartbreak. Or the miss in their mistake. Just plug it in, play, and make them happy.

Yuck

2011-04-03T08:36:00.000-07:00

Yuck. A terrible band name. But the music? Tasty. With a melodic core dipped in alt-rock goodness (Dinosaur Jr, Pavement, and The Breeders to name a few), Yuck transcends pastiche with arty guitar noodling that is propulsive, catchy, and endearing. Whatever early 90's touchstones float your boat, you can bet they also float the London-based band right across the pond. Check out opening track "Get Away" from Yuck's self-titled debut or the perfect pick-me-up in "Georgia" below.

Song of the Week

2011-03-31T10:21:00.001-07:00

This could be the sound of spring. Or, at least, the sound of a band playing so in the pocket that it leaves you in shambles of joy. Check out the video for Fleet Foxes' "Grown Ocean" from their forthcoming second album, Helplessness Blues. The D Man has been down and out for the past couple weeks. This song has revived my spirits on first listen. More please.

Song of the Week

2011-03-16T20:19:00.001-07:00

Elbow may be the biggest underrated band in the world. Maybe that is why the last record was called The Seldom Seen Kid. With noteworthy influences like Peter Gabriel, Talk Talk, and Radiohead, the British band's musical trajection has been steep, and despite the artistic difficulties preventing them from doing so, they keep making better and better records. So take notice.

Five Things

2011-03-11T08:45:00.000-08:00

The D Man has risen from the depths of winter, the sunshine restoring my faith in all things. The promise of better days has reinvigorated my commitment. My largesse. The D Man's Music will be energized as a result. Enjoy the fruits. And enjoy some great tracks from the past few weeks.

The Pains of Being Heart drop their sophomore album in the next couple weeks. Produced by Flood and Alan Moulder (think Siamese Dream), the Brooklyn shoegazers take off with fuzzed-out mega pop on the instant anthem "Belong."
Collapse Into Now is here. And it's good. Check out "Walk It Back" and "Mine Smell Like Honey."
Radiohead always know how to finish off an album. See "Separator."
If you're not feeling the "New Beat" from Toro Y Moi, well then, I feel sorry for you.
The D Man has already told you how much I love this album, right?

Song of the Week

2011-02-24T19:19:00.000-08:00

Athletes of the world, unite! Your call to arms? Cut Copy's infectious single, "Need You Now." The Australian electro-crooners' third album, Zonoscope, delivers wide-lens, cosmopolitan dance rock that will make you happy. Or ready to throw the javelin. (The D Man is also a big fan of the cover art by the late Japanese photomontage artist Tsunehisa Kimura, who provided classic covers for another great Australian band, Midnight Oil).

Song of the Week

2011-02-18T06:15:00.000-08:00

Check out the video for "Lotus Flower" from Radiohead's The King of Limbs, downloadable tomorrow. One youtube comment said the video was Radiohead's version of "Single Ladies." (If they don't win an award, maybe Kanye can intervene). No doubt Thom Yorke channels some crushing R&B-style vocals over strange and groovy beats from the greatest session band in the world. Imagine if Sam Cooke got to sing with Greenwood and company? As for the dancing, Thom Yorke channels himself, and seems to give only the slightest of winks. Who says this band doesn't have a sense of humor?

(More than) Five Things

2011-02-15T18:55:00.000-08:00

The D Man recently enjoyed another great road trip to sunny SoCal. The music was solid as always. We led things off with Iron & Wine's latest release (a natural extension for Sam Beam into a warmer realm of 70's-era folk-pop), hit the night stretch with The xx (easily one of the best late-night driving albums from the last several years), and enjoyed the starry-eyed splendor of Jonsi's Go (how did that album not squeeze into my Top Ten?).

The next morning, we cruised to Ryan Adams & The Cardinals III/IV, wound through the Virgin River Gorge to Band of Horses' Infinite Arms, and throttled through the open desert to the sounds of Ivy and Josh Rouse. The descent into California materialized with Beach House and Camera Obscura. The streets of San Diego called for Admiral Fell Promises and "Half Moon Bay" delivered acute atmosphere. A drive up the coast was assisted by The Drums. Ditto for the drive back down.

The way home was littered with long stretches of blessed silence, more Ryan Adams and Josh Rouse, R.E.M., an aborted album or two, and finally the soothing sounds of the kings.

So Arcade Fire won Album of the Year. The Grammy's finally got it right after apparently reading The D Man's Music. Whatever happened, it was cool that more than 95% of the viewing audience had never heard a song from The Suburbs. Hopefully a few of them will be smart enough to pick up the album.
Radiohead releases album number eight, The King of Limbs, by digital download this Saturday. The cover artwork is phenomenal. Fans can pick up the CD or vinyl in May. Check out a solid list of the band's greatest songs. Some of the The D Man's personal favorites are not even on the list, which tells you how impossibly dense the band's catalog is. The D Man agrees with the placement of "Idioteque," of course.
Panda Bear's "Last Night at the Jetty" is pretty cool.
The Strokes fourth album, Angles, could revive the band's short-lived reign as the it guitar band of the early 2000s. Check out first single "Under Cover of Darkness."
Enjoy a solid fan video to accompany "Downtown," a track from Destroyer's ridiculously cool Kaputt.

Song of the Week

2011-02-07T18:22:00.000-08:00

James Blake is being hailed as a godsend. After spending a few minutes with the mesmerizing video below, it is easy to see why. The young British composer is creating minimalist, R&B-influenced, electronic music that is both melodic and striking. On "The Wilhelm Scream," Blake's searing vocals sound like a wounded Rick Astley (in the coolest sense possible), and the repeating lyrical hook is impossible for listeners to shake loose. Blake's production skills may be the most intriguing aspect of his ascendancy--he is lightyears ahead of the game, showcasing a reverence for subtlety, texture, and space. You can also check out his fantastic video for his cover of Feist's "Limit to Your Love" here. After releasing several promising EP's last year, Blake drops his debut tomorrow. The D Man suggest you pick it up.

The White Stripes

2011-02-02T20:14:00.000-08:00

The White Stripes are calling it quits. The D Man understands the decision (going out on top, completing the canon, moving on to other pursuits), and has always admired the way the duo handled their creative business. But I feel a twinge of sadness knowing that they are leaving behind their special brand of guitar theater with, notably, great music still waiting in the wings.

Jack White is a recent saviour of sorts for authentic, red-blooded rock-n'roll and is undoubtedly one of the greatest guitarists of all time. His uncompromising vision and varied approach to rockmaking will long be a touchstone of artistic integrity. If you're wondering, The D Man's favorite Stripe record was probably the mammoth Elephant (my best of 2003). And while I loved the classics De Stijl and White Blood Cells, I fell hard for the band's final full length, Icky Thump. Enjoy a live version of one of my sneaky favorite Stripe songs, where Jack holds court and duels with a seventh son. Or something like that.

Song of the Week

2011-01-31T21:38:00.000-08:00

Fleet Foxes' eponymous debut was a stunning delight, one of the best albums of the last ten years, and arguably one of the finest folk-pop records of all time. Check out "Helplessness Blues" from the band's second album of the same name. You will have to sit tight until May to hear the entire thing, but if this thrilling song is any indication, it will be well worth the wait. The D Man is already in love with the cover art, again.

By late January, we grow tired of long cold nights and long gray days. We begin to feel alienated from our work, certainly in the confines of an office or otherwise.The D Man can empathize with Robin Pecknold's longing refrain: If I had an orchard, I'd work 'til I'm sore. My grandparents had a cherry orchard. That sense of individual liberation through an honest days work is what many of us seek, and if we are transported there mid-winter, if only for a brief time, through the unique harmonies of a fantastic band, so be it.

Five Things

2011-01-23T17:40:00.001-08:00

In January, The D Man tends to revisit his music library. A great time of year to reflect. Enjoy a few deep tracks that I've been enjoying of late. So January sounding.

"New Hampshire" by Matt Pond P.A. A sincere, workman-like achievement in mood. I'm so determined to lay in lakes / And see my sisters / I will hit my brother / And hold my mother.
"My Love Has Gone" by Josh Rouse. An underrated singer-songwriter. An excellent country-pop song.
"Central Reservation" by Beth Orton. Today is whatever you want it to be.
"Live in Dreams" by Wild Nothing. Can't stop listening to this 2010 release. Gets better and better. Plus, Jack Tatum is playing a show here in February.
"Weightlifting" by The Trash Can Sinatras. Terrible band name. Sublime pop song. (Thanks to G-Reese for this tip from a couple years back).

Song of the Week

2011-01-15T07:16:00.000-08:00

British Sea Power--the Queen's proper musical messenger--has been making underrated albums and resolutely British pop music for the past decade. The band's arcane lyrical subject matter can be strange at times, but their music cribs from every corner of the Britpop realm (60's pop, 70's glitter, 80's mope rock, 90's anthems) and results in accessible, albeit angular, rock music. The D Man still swoons over second album Open Season. Scott Wilkinson may have the perfect English rock voice, and he sounds fantastic live, as he demonstrated during a show The D Man caught at Jones Beach, Long Island, a few years back.

Valhalla Dancehall is the band's fifth album and represents the breadth of the band's sound, with soaring rockers, post-rock gloomers, and R&B-influenced ditties. Check out the tongue-in-cheek first single "Living is So Easy," a pop-infused departure from the band's oft-heavier material.

Song of the Week

2011-01-05T20:17:00.000-08:00

Sam Beam, your favorite bearded folk-hero, releases his fourth full-length, Kiss Each Other Clean, at the end of the month. Check out "Walking Far From Home" and enjoy some quasi-biblical phrasing and plenty of ooohs and aaahs. A real grower. After the full-bodied approach of The Shepherd's Dog, it will be interesting to hear where this record goes. The D Man will definitely be picking it up. Like a bird stealing bread.

The D Man's Top Twenty Albums of 2010

2010-12-12T18:00:00.000-08:00

The Grand Statement vs. The Overarching Vibe. Great albums may be grouped into one of these two categories. Take this year in music. Several albums merit Grand Statement distinctions (Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, Kanye West), while others deserve honors for creating The Overarching Vibe (Beach House, LCD Soundsystem, Twin Shadow). These two musical camps, when rarefied aesthetics are involved, are worthy of our critical praise.

The Grand Statement primarily delivers a musical message. An album that earns this title--lyrically, sonically, thematically--tells a story, imparts a wisdom, or discloses a secret. The Grand Statement asserts a worldview, or at least offers a profound reference point, and forces listeners to weigh and consider. For example, Arcade Fire's The Suburbs is a sweeping narrative of the impending, and a remembrance of the spark of youth in the midst of an unavoidable unwinding. It is, in essence, an elegy. Listeners must grapple with the album's search for home amid the tumult of the modern world.

On the other hand, the Overarching Vibe delivers a musical feeling. The sound of the album is more significant than any lyric, topic, or theme. It is about the music, the moment, or the magic. It is experiential rather than topographical. For example, Beach House's Teen Dream, while chronicling the romance of youth, is primarily an iridescent escape into the feeling of youth, the dream of romance, indeed, the very sound of the fantasy.

On closer scrutiny, of course, these two distinctions begin to erode. The Grand Statement is often a function of the Overarching Vibe, the essential feel and sound of a record. The Suburbs is so seamless in its musical approach, it would be foolish not to recognize its holistic sonic current. Meanwhile, the Overarching Vibe is sometimes a product of the Grand Statement, as the stories, themes, and motifs that a given artist employs creates the (un)intended feeling, the personal musical experience, as it is with Teen Dream. Ultimately, these two distinctions are probably only servicable as a kind of shorthand to delineate between albums that contain a decipherable narrative arc, and albums that bury such narrative into the inscrutable nature of their musicmaking. Even then, such shorthand is underwhelming. After all, last decade's millenial masterpiece, Radiohead's Kid A, is arguably the penultimate Grand Statement (post-modern breakdown) and Overarching Vibe (post-modern breakdown).

One thing is certain: 2010 was a great year for music. The new decade failed to usher in a major movement or storyline. Unlike 1980, where disco and punk were giving way to post-punk and new wave, or 1990, where pop and hair-metal were dying a slow death as the underground presence of art-rock and grunge emerged, 2010 was a testament to the creative strength of the previous decade and its best artists. Indeed, the best albums of 2010 include releases from some of last decade's finest musicmakers: Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, The National, and Kanye West, to name a few. Three of those artists have produced albums that previously topped The D Man's year-end lists. That is some staying power. That is some relevance.

A final word of encouragement. Last year, The D Man discussed his concerns regarding the slow-death of the album. The past year in music confirms (again) that such worries are premature. The mainstream offered up few albums worthy of aesthetic consideration, however, thankfully, myriad independent artists created long-form musical statements that were striking, original, and worth writing about and listening to. So enjoy.

1. The Suburbs / Arcade Fire

2010-12-12T17:56:00.000-08:00

The Suburbs is about bedrooms, backyards, driveways, and parking lots; the places where dreams materialize in the heart of youth. But then communities dissolve, relationships disintegrate, and dreams dissipate, leaving disenfranchised kids roaming empty streets and cities, seeking solace, looking for home.

Arcade Fire's third album is a thrilling triumph that embraces the possibility of light in the throes of darkness, of love in the final acts of modern man. Less heavyhanded than Neon Bible, the album still possesses an underlying sense of despair, but it never detracts from the invitation to escape, and never weighs down the propulsive guitar-rock that carries much of the album. Indeed, the music's white-noise nostalgia is continuously interrupted by lyrical hooks, anthemic choruses, and bursts of clarity, in what may be seen as the band's first rock album, with their vibrant instrumental flourishes still in tow.

This is the Canadian band's The Joshua Tree--epic, righteous, guitar-driven, fervent--complete with massive anthems and soul-wrenching examinations. Unlike that album's wide-lens view of America and our inner soul, however, The Suburbs plays out more like Darkness at the Edge of Town, shrouded in a relentless future, uncertain of whether an appeal to our collective greatness will be fruitful.

The Suburbs' seamless majesty--both sonic and thematic--is an impressive achievement made possible by the band's considerable talents and willingness to reach for greatness. Will Butler referred to Arcade Fire as "a Moby-Dick kind of band." This is an apt description, as the collective's ambition goes for epic and achieves that kind of feeling, no matter the flaws. Rather than capturing merely small or limited moments (which it does to great effect), The Suburbs is a soaring depiction of visions past and future: childhood dreams give way as the adult world emerges, and the album's end-of-days philosophical exploration sears into the pysche. Over the arc of sixteen tracks, the album moves through the beauty, strangeness, and bittersweetness of youth, and often views those moments through the lens of an adult grappling with current crisis. This is not a short story with an easy ending.

The Suburbs is also that rare artistic creature: an accessible and aesthetic achievement that entered into the mainstream. Like Grizzly Bear's Veckatimest from 2009, The Suburbs reached #1 on the Billboard charts, if but for a brief stay, which is an impressive feat for an album that is such a heavy, conceptual thing.

But maybe that should not come as a surprise since The Suburbs' grand statement, however conflicted, seems so universal. After all, we are, in the end, talking about kids. Seeking fulfillment of the promises of youth. Seeking for connection long since abandoned: brothers, sisters, friends, hopes, dreams. Seeking for innocence, purity, goodness. Kids just like you and me.

2. Teen Dream / Beach House

2010-12-12T17:55:00.000-08:00

Beach House's glimmering pop is best exemplified by "Norway," the first single from the band's magnificent third album, Teen Dream. The Baltimore duo of Victoria LeGrand and Alex Scally replace some of the dreamy and drawn-out atmosphere found on 2008's Devotion with a greater sense of light-filled urgency. Stunning stuff.

Teen Dream is a shimmering masterpiece of mood and melody. Gorgeous and beguiling, the hazy album is the sonic equivalent of waves breaking on a sun-dappled morning beach, of lovers holding hands on a lidless night. The ooohs and aaahs are shrouds of misty texture, and the deliberate beats beam from an intrusive moon. At times gentle, the music, for all of its organ-droned, ethereal loveliness, still has its moments of self-assured thrust, and it is ultimately carried by LeGrand's loveblown vocal delivery. The stories of youth and romance, taken aloft by the music's rich fantasy, are grounded in the real world by LeGrand's earthy, lived-in voice.

"Zebra" propels forward on the back of Scally's rippling guitars and crests in a spray of color and chorus: "Anyway you run, you run before us / black and white horse / arching before us." "Silver Soul" yearns for something other than heartbreak, while "Lover of Mine" and "10 Mile Stereo" move with magnetic beats and LeGrand's near-mystical incantations. Musically, the album appears suspended, mid-air, among gossamer threads of longing, heartache, and passion; a web of timeless beauty.

The D Man possesses a fierce attraction to this record, and the music's durability, listen after listen, has been nothing short of intoxicating. Like some powerful elixir, The D Man simply cannot get enough of the album's overarching vibe. Teen Dream is the album Beach House was destined to make. A classic.

3. Age of Adz / Sufjan Stevens

2010-12-12T17:52:00.000-08:00

The most (re)inventive album of the year. To summarize: over the last decade, Sufjan has (1) recorded his eclectic debut (A Sun Came), (2) composed an electronic album devoted to the animals of the Chinese Zodiac (Year of the Rabbit), (3) regenerated the immaculate beauty of his home state (Michigan), (4) recorded a quiet folk album of dialogic devotion (Seven Swans), (5) orchestrated the greatest American album of the last ten years (Illinois), (6) released the magical detritus from the Illinois sessions (The Avalanche), (7) shared several years of private Christmas recordings (Songs for Christmas), (8) honored the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway in a symphonic and cinematic tribute (The BQE), and (9) collaborated with countless artists and musical friends.

Despite his substantial output, Sufjan did not release a proper album for more than five years. We waited and worried. He surfaced last year and said he had lost faith in the album, even faith in the song. He was obviously wrestling with the weight of impressive achievements and enormous expectations. The D Man pleaded with him to remain, to reconsider, to recuperate and reinvent, if necessary. We needed the album, we needed the song. Especially from him.

Enter 2010. Sufjan released the lengthy All Delighted EP, and right on its heels, the fascinating album Age of Adz. While the All Delighted EP consisted of rococo pleasures consistent with Sufjan's previous efforts, Age of Adz was a departure in many ways, certainly from the soaring symphonic folk of the much-beloved Illinois. Age of Adz was an intergalactic exploration of the Self, an electronic and orchestral attempt to find a heartbeat again. And, gratefully, it did. The album succeeded on cosmic levels, and it instantly became another iteration of Sufjan's creative and cognitive abilities.

Age of Adz, in Sufjan's words, is "really obsessed with sensation and has a hysterical melodrama to it." This is readily apparent when listening to the record (easily the best headphone experience of the year), and especially after seeing the new songs performed live. The D Man previously shared his feelings from that indelible concert, and now offers up the Sufjan live experience as the ultimate expression of the album.

4. High Violet / The National

2010-12-12T17:51:00.001-08:00

It takes an ocean not to break. The National's High Violet comes in supple waves. Of sophisticated post-rock. Of anthemic breakdowns. Of mega-chorus brilliance. The album's craftsmanship is mature and assured, while the lyrics bely any sense of confidence in the wake of relationships, families, and communities on the edge. And while the tone is somewhat ominous, High Violet's energy somehow feels brighter, more magnanimous than previous efforts.

In addition to the dark-hued grandeur, the songs also possesses subtle charms that, like earlier releases, continue to take shape and grow with each listen. As the songs coalesce and reveal deeply-felt, personal projections, one gets the distinct impression that The National may be the best band playing today. Indeed, the album lives as a dense collection of brilliant songs. And there may not be a better three-song run (this year) than the album's fifth, sixth, and seventh tracks, the brooding backbone of High Violet's world-weary vibe.

"Afraid of Everyone," with emblematic American metaphors, describes a family man's paralyzing fears, and as the song reaches a foreboding crescendo ("your voice is swallowing my soul, soul, soul"), one is left wondering whether it is a call to battle or a plea for retreat:

I'll defend my family with my orange umbrella
I'm afraid of everyone, I'm afraid of everyone
With my shiny new star
Spangled tennis shoes on
I'm afraid of everyone, I'm afraid of everyone

With my kid on my shoulders I'll try
Not to hurt anybody I like
But I don't have the drugs to sort
I don't have the drugs to sort it out.

On "Bloodbuzz Ohio," Matt Berninger's narrow baritone takes flight with (a swarm of bees) and an exquisite rock'n'roll arrangement that lesser bands scarce can comprehend. An ode to home and distance (most of the band originally hails from Ohio), the song's centerpiece is a kind of physical, spoken-out-loud catharsis, a personal confession, an admission that resistance to love is (finally) impossible:

I still owe money to the money to the money I owe
I never thought about love when I thought about home
I still owe money to the money to the money I owe
The floors are falling out from everybody I know
I'm on a bloodbuzz
Yes I am
I'm on a bloodbuzz

And "Lemonworld" depicts a young man who gave his heart to the Army ("only sentimental thing I could think of") and is now drowning in the meaningless pursuits and material illusions of those around around him.

I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find somethin' on this thing that means nothin' enough
Losin' my breath

You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
I want to sit in and die.

High Violet is not kids stuff. The album's textured production, lyrical heft, and instrumental sophistication offer little solace to those merely seeking a good time, an easy way out. The National provide few answers, other than a sense of relief at getting the right words out, and doing the songs justice. The music requires a willingness to descend into vivid realms of meaning and mood. The end result is heavy, thrilling.

5. Contra / Vampire Weekend

2010-12-12T17:51:00.000-08:00

Vampire Weekend has more rhythm, funk, syncopation, and flow than nine out of every ten rappers. The Columbia-grads put on two great shows this year and sounded tight, inspired, and fresh. Contra is a natural extension of the band's phenomenal debut, and the album shines after getting waxed with additional eccentricities. These guys are keepers.

Thankfully, the band's sophomore album stays faithful to their sonic identity while also expanding into varied musical spaces. The ebullient production allows the band to redefine their intellectual indie-pop with genre-defying songs. Contra is mature, perhaps more subtle in parts than its predecessor, but it never sacrifices its sense of playfulness and, notably, its sense of joy.

Ezra Koenig's literate allusions to the obscure or arch-elite continue to impress. His observations are as sharp as the band's precise and inimitable musical direction. Best line on the album (or maybe any album this year): "The little stairway / A little piece of carpet / A pair of mirrors that are facing one another / Out in both directions / A thousand little Julias / That come together / In the middle of Manhattan."

Opening track "Horchata" is the perfect late-winter antidote, while "White Sky" breaks through the cloud cover with a series of chorus yelps as only Koenig can deliver. (The keyboards alone on these tracks are worth paying full admission). Other favorites: the escapist electro-violins of "Run," the ultra-fast drum fills and prickly guitars of "Cousins," the sing-along chorus and bridge of "Giving Up the Gun," and the reggae-fied nostalgia of "Diplomat's Son."

Some misguided listeners have questioned the band's authenticity. After all, didn't they get an Ivy-league education? (Yes.) Didn't they grow up in upper-class privilege? (Sort of.) Didn't they exploit globe-trotting musical references by bringing them to the masses? (And your point?) The D Man has little time for identity politics when listening to music, especially music this diverse and refreshing. When assessing artistic merit, socio-economics never held much sway for The D Man. So Van Gogh was poor. So Picasso was rich. Interesting, no doubt. But that does not necessarily mean that "Sunflowers" is greater than "Guernica."

Likewise, if Ezra Koenig can so convincingly break down Congolese soukous inside an Upper West Side narrative, it makes little difference what high school he went to--The D Man will be listening. Indeed, few complain when Lil' Wayne exploits his quasi-surroundings for serious monetary gain, and he doesn't even write compelling songs, something Koenig seems incapable of doing. But when your skin color is of the paler variety, heaven forbid you co-opt culture and music that moves you. You're called a cloy.

But I digress. Vampire Weekend seems to have few musical horizons, especially when considering how effective--and comfortable--the band is when playing with electro-pop, new wave, Afro-ryhthms, punk, and whatever else catches their fancy. The D Man's only advice: Go on, go on, go on.

6. Halcyon Digest / Deerhunter

2010-12-12T17:50:00.000-08:00

Remember that cool but weird kid who sat at the back of the class? He drew pictures on the back of notebooks and didn't pay attention. He hung out in the halls, rarely came to Algebra, and skipped school dances. But he had great hair, and you heard he played in a band somewhere. Well, this is the album he finally made. And like you expected, it is pretty damn awesome.

Halcyon Digest is a musical journal of sorts, depictions of influential sonic memories that affected that strange kid--in this case, Bradford Cox, the musical force behind Deerhunter and Atlas Sound. The D Man's entry point into Cox's private world of inspiration was Atlas Sound's excellent 2009 album Logos, and Halcyon Digest is filled with similar entries of striking and blissful pysche-pop, observed, recorded, and obviously transformed by Cox and his bandmates.

The album is divergent, all washed-out bedroom pop or sixties rock, with a homespun quality that feels faithful and sincere. The intracacies are astounding yet sound so effortless. The songs are a testament to underthinking and overplaying, the instinctual foray into cherished and poignant moments of musicmaking. The best examples of Deerhunter's experimentation are drenched in watery psyche-drippings or off-the-cuff guitar s that sound familiar and exciting all at once. The end result: a towering, yet private, indie-rock record.

7. This Is Happening / LCD Soundsystem

2010-12-12T17:48:00.001-08:00

James Murphy has been building monuments of cool for the better part of a decade, and This Is Happening is his Parthenon. LCD Soundsystem's in-the-zeitgeist, post-dancerock, electronic metroplex is a masterpiece (and mashup) of club and indie music, a pulsing production parked in the middle of the urban universe. Witty, accessible, hip, and heady, This Is Happening reconstructs the notion of what it means to be a rock'n'roll god.

Murphy compresses post-punk, new wave, and club music into sprawling musical enterprises, and he rarely strays from stylish production and clever conceits, resulting in brainy climaxes throughout the entire record. For example, at the three-minute mark, opening track "Dance Yrself Clean" explodes into electro-funk euphoria, and other tracks contain similar moments of that-was-cool clarity.

"One Touch" is pulsating post-disco, "I Can Change" is groovy electro-pop, and "Home" is feel- good krautrock. "Pow Pow" is the album's cool epicenter, and, notably, there are few artists that could produce something so audacious, exciting, and catchy. On The D Man's favorite track, Murphy sings "You wanted a hit / but maybe we don't do hits." Ummmmm, right, have you been listening? If you heard this album for the first time while entering a record store, you would not make it out alive--like entering into the hippest wormhole in the time-space continuum, the vortex keeps spinning around until you succumb to the outer reaches of coolness. You wanted a hit? Baby, you just got something bigger.

8. Forget / Twin Shadow

2010-12-12T17:48:00.000-08:00

Forget combines the rich, dark, and lovelorn elements of 1980's pop music into a record that transcends genre. George Lewis, Jr. (aka Twin Shadow) skillfully uses tropes of the era--dramatic synthesizers, down-cast drum machines, somber guitar-lines--to give a meaningful and mysterious undercurrent to the romance and heartbreak of his music. The results are dazzling.

The sound of the album exists somewhere in the hazy space between dance and pop music; the soft glow of Chris Taylor's (Grizzly Bear) production casts an intimate shadow over the entire record, giving a late-night and alone-together quality to the music. Lyrically, the record conjures up visual nostalgia tailor-made for individual listeners; the excitement of new relationships, the heat of sexual drama, and the dissolution of love are exquisitely enveloped in a veil of intimacy. Atmosphere is everything.

If David Bowie had anything left in his creative tank after 1983's Let's Dance, he might have made an album that sounded like Forget. (Rather than the forgettable Tonight). With allusive nods to Morrissey, Depeche Mode, Echo & The Bunnymen, and even the general idea of what the 1980's were supposed to sound like, Twin Shadow has transformed revivalism and created something telling and timely.

9. Admiral Fell Promises / Sun Kil Moon

2010-12-12T17:46:00.000-08:00

Few artists can carry an album with just a guitar in their hands. On Admiral Fell Promises, singer-songwriter Mark Kozelek plays completely solo on the nylon-string guitar; classical flourishes accompany novel-like passages of lost loves and foregone places, lending a stark and spiritual gravity to the latest songs from Sun Kil Moon's increasing (and impressive) catalog. To be clear, this music is not on trend. Indeed, there was nothing else released this year that could match Kozelek's private and singular intensity, and the music's sense of timelessness. That feeling elicited a sense of mystery that was difficult to describe, listen after listen.

The album's deep-set tone is established by opener "Alesund;" with its intricate classical fingerpicking, the song immediately pulls you in with its spacious, meditative introduction. The narrator then moves into epic introspection, reflecting on a muse that is both person and place, the Scandinavian beauty of the song's namesake. Other highlights include "Third and Seneca" (another road trip marked by the passage of time, place, and heartache), "You Are My Sun" (as lovely as anything The Beatles ever recorded), and "Admiral Fell Promises" (a private reassurance to a signature love).

When The D Man introduced Sun Kil Moon for my brother's 40th birthday party (a thrill I will never forget), I told the audience that "Mark's music compels listeners to contemplate their mortality, and moves listeners to become more wholly themselves." Admiral Fell Promises is no exception.

10. Plastic Beach / Gorillaz

2010-12-12T17:43:00.000-08:00

When the world is running down, you make the best of what's still around. On their third studio album, Plastic Beach, Gorillaz dream up a new kind of ecology, a new kind of green. Given the synthetic leftovers from the end of days, it is time to rebuild, reorganize, and reaffirm the power of plastic, and ultimately escape to a sustainable island refuge. These are not cartoon monkeys anymore; they are primates with a plan.

Damon Albarn's once-virtual band thrives in the popular arena, and his latest creation is an eclectic mishmash of electronica, hip-hop, pop, and retro-soul, that faithfully delivers the album's visual message in a way that lyrics never could. Easily one of the most enjoyable listens of the year (and Gorillaz' best album to date), Plastic Beach features guest performances from Snoop Dogg, Mos Def, Lou Reed, De La Soul, Gruff Rhys, and Bobby Womack, among others, and the trove of pop offerings is worthy of an island paradise, albeit one born of ingenuity and studio magic. The record features some of the best production of the year, and further suggests that Albarn is a renaissance man of sorts.

"Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach" features Snoop Dogg's most inspired work in years. "Stylo" is a combination of futuristic synths and retro stylings, thanks to singular turns at the mic from Albarn, Mos Def, and Bobby Womack, who apparently free-styled his powerful verses off the top of his head ("In another world, in the universe!"). "Superfast Jellyfish" is more than an inside joke, as it makes perfect use of De La Soul's wit and Gruff Rhys' melodic charms. Lest listeners come away with the notion that reinvention is all fun and games, several tracks contain a yearning kind of melancholy that breathes humanity into the record.

"On Melancholy Hill" and "Empire Ants" are the best tracks on the album, and the perfect examples of Albarn's considerable production skills without sacrificing aching, heartfelt emotions. "Meloncholy Hill" floats over a memorable, lilting synth-line that reaches the sublime when a crestfallen Albarn sings the chorus: "Cause you are my medicine / when you're close to me." "Empire Ants" is a master class in seamless juxtaposition; what begins with Albarn's windblown vocals amid dreamy keys and strums, suddenly turns into electronic transcendence with a thrilling vocal performance from Little Dragon.

Welcome to the Plastic Beach!

11. Gemini / Wild Nothing

2010-12-12T17:41:00.000-08:00

Wild Nothing's dreamy, shoegaze guitar-pop hints at the ineffable. Gemini is awash with starry-eyed synths, crystalline guitars, and fuzzy atmospherics, reimagining a vein of iridescent, wistful, 1980's pop music, where the answers just lead to more questions. Jack Tatum's debut is an understated affair that sulks, seeps, and sears into listeners romance-fueled memories, and the album is a clear indication that he is an unabashed fan of his brooding, mysterious, and melodic forebears, the touchstones that mopey teens of yesteryear listened to and adored (Joy Division, The Cure, The Cocteau Twins, to name just a few).

As an aside, and in the spirit of full disclosure, The D Man is beholden to new wave and many of its permutations. The reasons are deep-seated and likely originate from happy, early years in a lower middle-class neighborhood, listening to the magical (and seemingly exotic) music older brothers brought home. Upon further reflection, and apart from my native affinity for the distinctive sounds of that era (the icy guitars! the evocative keyboards! the vocal deliveries!), social dynamics and musical elements also play into an affection for popular music's reawakening after rock'n'roll's glorious implosion. After twenty-five years of rock music, its excesses, its machismo, its blues-oriented sound, and its culmination in punk, listening to the intelligent artists of the loosely-defined new wave feels like starting over. Like painting with a new brush and new colors. Moreover, these same artists brought long overdue emotions back into the sonic landscape: sadness, melancholy, longing, romance.

Gemini captures all of this sepia-toned nostalgia, and along with the excellent Golden Haze EP, it is a breathtaking demonstration of the elusive genre's experimentation, complexity, and production. Indeed, Wild Nothing's evocative debut is another example of new wavers meaningful contributions to current indie musicians, almost as if the 1960's never happened. And for some, like The D Man, they never did.

12. Go / Jónsi

2010-12-12T17:40:00.000-08:00

Jón (“Jónsi”) Pór Birgisson, the frontman for Sigur Rós, seems like he is from another planet. Given the sonic palette of his solo debut, it would be a lush, dreamy world of vegetation and color, prone to occassional fits of weeping rain. Like Pandora. Isn't he wearing feathers on the album's cover?

Go is a remarkable symph-pop record--inspiring, even--with beautiful flourishes of flutes, horns, percussions, and strings. Indeed, avant-garde indie-composer Nico Muhly's string arrangments are heavenly, while Samuli Kosminen's poly-rhythmic percussions help the music feel earthworn, elemental. "Go Do," as its title suggests, runs with wide-eyed, unbridled abandon ("We should always know that we can do anything"); "Animal Arithmetic" celebrates life's joyous cacophonies ("We should all be alive!); and "Boy Lillikoi" urges individual illumination ("We all grow old, use your life, the world goes and flutters by"). From other artists, these sentiments would sound trite; for Jónsi, they are empowered with wonder and innocence.

How is Go different from a Sigur Rós record? There seems to be a tighter pop-song focus--perhaps a natural extension from the first-half of 2008's splendid Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust--and the result is warmer, denser, more intimate than the ethereal, sometimes alien wonders of Sigur Rós. Jónsi also sings entirely in English, however, for most songs, it appears to make little difference, as his vocal intonations remain otherwordly.

Jónsi is now burdened with a stunning back catalog, and all of his efforts, solo or otherwise, may be unfairly weighed against his singular output. To be sure, had Go been our first listen to his distinctive world, it would have garnered more attention, and it would have been included in more discussions of the year's best albums. We simply take for granted beautiful things that we have seen or heard before. Regardless, there remains immense listening satisfaction from the record's sense of treasure, its sense of being untainted, unfound.

13. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy / Kanye West

2010-12-12T17:39:00.000-08:00

Don't believe the hype. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy has bite, but it is not a better listen than Kanye's previous albums, particularly the multi-faceted flow of The College Dropout or the candy-gloss shine of Graduation. The album is strong, no doubt, but it is not once-in-a-generation material.

In a genre with few interesting moments this year (yes, that means you hip-hop, minus this song, of course), Kanye is hailed by critics as the latest and greatest hope, and this album is viewed as the most audacious rap record of the past several years. There is little doubt that Kanye is a better recordmaker than his peers, but The D Man is confused as to why this effort has garnered such over-the-top praise. We rave about his self-awareness, his honesty, his bravado, but with so few competitors, where exactly is the critical bar? Where does dirty self-congratulation end and true lyrical deftness begin? (Note to parents: The D Man highly recommends the edited version). Several of the tracks are massive and original, while others result in numbing fatigue, and the album's sum total is an erratic depiction of a talented but troubled soul.

So why the Top Twenty? Despite the above disclaimer, the record still has potent musical moments, and the artist's attempt at global pop domination is too convincing to overlook. Kanye culls inspiration from all of his previous material, and his hard-hitting and bombastic production (great samples and guest stars abound) give life to his innermost grievances, fantasies, and lyrical postulations. (Best line: "Too many Urkels on your team/ that's why your Winslow.") The songs are wide-ranging and, for good or ill, depict the many faces of Kanye: Kanye, the grand minister of inspiration ("Dark Fantasy"); Kanye, the dark-tribal overlord ("POWER"); Kanye, the pensive relationship-hero ("Runaway"); Kanye, the furious MC tag-teamer ("Monster"); Kanye, the major hit-maker ("All the Lights"); Kanye, the hedonistic apologist (multiple tracks). You get the idea; the man is so complex. But with so many different faces, one is left wondering: will the real Kanye please stand up?

14. Infinite Arms / Band of Horses

2010-12-12T17:37:00.000-08:00

We're Band of Horses. And we're from America. Three albums in, Band of Horses has established itself as a quintessential American band that successfully blurs the boundaries of indie-rock, folk, and country, and continually makes some of the best open-road music of the day. Infinite Arms is a comfortable collection of tunes, filled with sweet guitars, accessible hooks, and leisurely harmonies, and it feels about as well-worn as your old plaid button-up.

Taking off from previous releases, opening track "Factory" features a rising chorus backed by heavy-hearted strings, and the song successfully pulls off a "snack machine" reference. Second track "Compliments" is a zippy rocker, while third track "Laredo" is wide-open, American country-rock, easily the best driving song of the summer. From there, the album moves through Shins-like shuffles ("On My Way Back Home"), dreamy pysche-folk ("Infinite Arms"), poppy guitar-pop ("Dilly"), and back-porch reveries ("Evening Kitchen," "Older"). There is no rush, no hurry, especially when all the parts equal more than the sum, and the sum equals none . . . .

If Everything All the Time was their swirling reflection of the Northwest, and Cease to Begin their shimmering return to the South, then Infinite Arms is the band's meandering, shuffling trek West, with big skies, empty roads, and welcoming porches ahead. So keep on moving.

15. Astro Coast / Surfer Blood

2010-12-12T17:36:00.000-08:00

Astro Coast packages power-riffs, power chords, and power choruses with meticulous guitar arrangements, creating a big-sounding surf-rock record. The spacey guitars and buoyant melodies are the show, and the show delivers hook after hook that would make classic indie bands blush. Surfer Blood was made for Rock Band.

"Swim (To Reach the End)" is swelling and anthemic, a song that would have been comfortable on MTV's 120 Minutes in the early 1990's. "Floating Vibes" is attention-grabbing, dueling guitar-pop, and "Harmonix" patiently builds, cresting at intervals, just like, you guessed it, waves of the ocean. But passing off Surfer Blood as merely an alt-rock revivalist with a penchant for water imagery (the name, the album cover, the song titles) discounts the promising guitar intricacy--and intuitive feel for a great hook--that imbues the band's entire debut record. After hearing Surfer Blood play live, there is little to doubt: crowdsurfing is encouraged.

16. Spoon / Transference

2010-12-12T17:35:00.000-08:00

Spoon guts their last album's full-bodied production, leaving behind only thin membranes of guitar, piano, and Britt Daniel's pointy vocals. But the result is spare, brainy rock'n'roll consistent with some of their best work, if not downright subversive in its barebones construction. The Austin band's post-punk and garage-rock come unadorned, yet, surprisingly, bursts of groove and space still give way to seriously funky moments.

To call this album challenging would be a disservice, especially considering past efforts Kill the Moonlight or Gimme Fiction, and perhaps that sentiment is more of a nod to Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga's polished accessibility. Transference is merely another shift in the band's relentless desire to make intriguing music in what can be a tired genre. Like The White Stripes, Spoon rarely compromises its approach to rockmaking, blasting away at the construction of songs, or in this case, ripping out their heart and stringing the pieces together.

17. The Drums / The Drums

2010-12-12T17:33:00.000-08:00

In a year of exquisite and nuanced 1980's revivalism, The Drums self-titled debut is straightforward, late-decade, Anglo guitar-pop that pleases at almost every turn. The Drums limited sonic vocabulary is effervescent (rather than an impediment), as the Brooklyn-via-Florida band understands their influences and wears them on their big-hearted sleeves.

Lead singer Jonathan Pierce prances, struts, and sings with an overwhelming sense of romance and a deep longing for connecting to his musical forerunners. His lyrical hooks are simple by design, and they are the perfect compliment to Jacob Graham's spindly guitar work. The tinny drums bely the album's solid production, but that may also be an intentional retro vibe in addition to the handclaps, reverb, keyboards, and harmonies that permeate the band's singular sound. A strong, imminently listenable debut.

18. Troubadours

2010-12-12T17:32:00.000-08:00

Fionn Regan and Kristian Mattson (aka The Tallest Man on Earth) are folk troubadours in the finest sense. An impeccable sense of songcraft weaves its way through their sophomore albums, Shadow of an Empire and The Wild Hunt, respectively.

Fionn Regan's debut was a masterful folk record in the vein of Nick Drake and Bob Dylan, albeit more propulsive than Drake and more pastoral than Dylan. On Shadow of an Empire, the Irish lad plugs in and leaves the acoustic guitar behind for a few tracks, driving home a ragged (but always melodic) rockabilly with his usual literate flair. A formidable, second triumph.

Kristian Mattson's voice always leads to comparisons with Dylan, and, indeed, his spare acoustic production is a folk-revival of sorts, even though his songs are decidedly forward-looking in their ultimate tone. The Wild Hunt displays Mattson's vibrant finger-picking and vocal agility, and his strange Southern drawl swagger (again) belies his Swedish roots. Heady, dexterous, and enthralling stuff.

19. The Place We Ran From / Tired Pony

2010-12-12T17:31:00.000-08:00

Tired Pony's strong debut came as something of a surprise. The individual members of the so-called supergroup are certainly talented in their own right (Gary Lightbody, Peter Buck, Richard Colburn, Jacknife Lee, etc), but their proposed collection of "country" songs--something Lightbody has always wanted to record--failed to garner much enthusiasm from critics or The D Man. Turns out, shame on anyone who didn't pick up this excellent set of somewhat dark, mellifluous tunes.

The Place We Ran From contains an assortment of Americana: late-night scorchers ("Get On the Road," recorded with indie-darling Zooey Deschanel), strong alt-country rockers ("Dead American Writers"), catchy sing-alongs ("I Am a Landslide"), early R.E.M.-sounding outtakes ("Point Me at Lost Islands"), and tracks that belong in late-night-drive movie scenes teetering between bewilderment and self-pity ("The Good Book," "Pieces"). Ultimately, the best thing about this record may be Lightbody's jump from the mainstream, and his ability to use his brilliant voice in entirely new contexts.

20. Treats / Sleigh Bells

2010-12-12T17:30:00.000-08:00

Treats sounds like a bunch of physcadelic cheerleaders playing extremely loud rock music. Yep, that's about it. At least the album cover is somewhat telling. The D Man's sister's cheerleading squad should do a Sleigh Bells routine during halftime of a high school basketball game. Now that would be a real treat. As for the album, it is a total one-off (not sure where Sleigh Bells go from here), but it is definitely fun until the final horn sounds.

Ten Best Musical Moments of 2010

2010-12-10T16:37:00.000-08:00

(The D Man, Rizzo, and Rip prepare for Sun Kil Moon)

Music is a private and communal experience. In 2010, The D Man, as always, enjoyed great musical moments in solitude and with others. These were the ten best.

10. Enjoying Fallon's spot-on version of "Pants on the Ground" as Neil Young.
9. Listening to LCD Soundsystem's "Pow Pow" with Rizzo and Schwarzy on the Vegas Strip.
8. Hearing "M79," live, two times in the same year.
7. Watching Conan O'Brien play "Freebird" with Will Ferrell and company during his last Tonight Show.
6. Listening to Beach House's Teen Dream while driving on the Pacific Coast highway after a great day at Lego Land.
5. Hitting the high notes on "Is There A Ghost" during the Band of Horses show.
4. Listening to Declaration of Dependence at least thirty times all the way through. Listening to the same while bringing my third son home from the hospital.
3. Introducing High Violet to Viwe Xozwa, my (much darker) South African counterpart, during a beautiful autumn drive in the mountains.
2. Attending the Sufjan Stevens concert, and specifically, experiencing the 30-minute existential catharsis of "Impossible Soul."
1. Watching Mark Kozelek play in my brother's backyard, and listening to "Salvador Sanchez" under the late-summer night sky.