Perhaps 2013 didn’t
quite contain an Age of Adz - a record I’ll still be playing weekly in
three or four years - but there was plenty to love. Here’s a few records I
enjoyed so much I thought it was worth putting writing down words about them.
Mikal Cronin –
MCII
One of my favourite
albums of recent years was Mikal Cronin’s 2012 debut - scruffy, Beatlesy
melodies punctuated by thrashy bursts of noise (Husker Du and Guided by Voices
are other obvious touchstones). Cronin makes a less abrasive racket than his
pal Ty Segall, veering more towards what rock critics persist in calling ‘power
pop’. On this follow up the fi is noticeably higher and the feel more grown up,
without losing too much of the essence that made that first record so exciting. So
the noisy fizzbombs are still present and correct, but this time are peppered with
an air of reflection and melancholy. More than anything he’s following the
Teenage Fanclub path, from fuzzy, noisy pop to something more wistful,
nostalgic. For proof, see album standout Peace of Mind, a gorgeous slice of
harmony laden, Byrds-ish goodness. Don’t go growing up too fast, though,
eh?
Parquet Courts -
Light Up Gold
Now, Parquet Courts
are one band it's hard to see maturing any time soon. One of this breakthrough record's 15 tracks sees the band recount walking around at night ‘Stoned and Starving’, and it doesn’t ever get a whole lot more profound than that.
They came over like sulky teens in interviews too. But I’ll overlook all that,
because they have such a great thing going on. It’s like they’ve distilled the
essence of 1978 CBGBs and mixed it with the most raucous bits of Pavement, then
added a dash of Jonathan Richman and a little bit of Flying Nun for good
measure. I know - an intoxicating brew indeed (#review cliche no 141 - the
‘cocktail’). Perhaps Light Up Gold didn’t quite live up to some of
the more excitable notices, and sure, it starts to flag well before the end.
That’s stoners for you, I guess. Turn up the first eight tracks, though and
it’s a pure shot of adrenaline to the brain. At my age, that’s not just
welcome, it’s a minor miracle.
Yo La Tengo -
Fade
YLT have been one
of America’s most consistently excellent bands since way back, and this is the
one record I was surprised to not see on more best of 2013 lists. While Light
Up Gold might throw a drink in your face, Fade invites you into its
family home, sits you down and puts a glass of something warm and delicious in
your hand. From the benevolent chugging drone of Ohm and the lush orchestration
on Is That Enough, Fade twinkles and shimmies bewitchingly. It’s such a relaxed
record - not like they’re not trying, but like the sound of a band utterly at
ease with itself, a band with nothing to prove. It’s a gorgeous album, a
warm hug of a album. I adore it.
Eleanor
Friedberger - Personal Record
As part of her
previous job as half of the brilliantly bonkers Fiery Furnaces the uber-cool
Eleanor was required to take on a vast array of bizarre personas. Now she’s on
her own she longer has to assume the character of, for example, the
captain of a ship carrying blueberries under attack from pirates, which must be
a relief. She can finally sing as herself, about real feelings and
experiences - hence the title. It’s all very reminiscent of when Mike Yarwood named his
autobiography ‘And This is Me’ (I can't understand how other reviewers didn't pick up on this). Also, I’d always suspected
Eleanor was responsible for the Furnaces’ poppier cuts, and this seems to be
borne out by her solo career. This record - actually the erstwhile Furnace’s
second - is an unlikely collab with Brit MOR singer songwriter/novelist Wesley
Stace, and sees Friedberger enthusiastically embracing influences as uncool as
forgotten 70s singer songwriter Duncan Browne. It all leads to some surprising
results - She’s a Mirror, for example, is a ringer for Hall and Oates.
My pick, though, is Stare at the Sun, which chugs along with
Pretenders-esque pop/rock guitars. It’s not experimental, it’s not pushing the
envelope but it is totally joyous and it’s one of my favourite songs of the
year. (Stace has recorded his own version which is only notable for how dull it
is.)
Vampire Weekend –
Modern Vampires of the City
Yeah yeah, I know.
Ivy League attendin’, Ralph Lauren wearin’, privilege non-checkin’ rich boys
blah blah blah. Yeah. But. But but but. The songs! This is the year the old
narratives about Vampire Weekend - I don’t think we need to hear the phrase
‘Upper West Side Soweto’ again - can be forgotten. From now on they can just be
what they are: a brilliant pop band. VW seem to have some kind of supernatural
gift for melody, like they fell into the magic potion when they were babies.
That was apparent enough on the first two records, but now they’ve added
emotion and, dare I say it, soul to the mix. Step - hip hop and
harpsichords, anyone? - is alchemy, adding a honeyed melody to an old rap
chorus and somehow coming up with the song of the year. Diane Young,
meanwhile, a rock ‘n’ roll pastiche with echoes of Westworld to those of us old
enough to remember, is pure aural prozac.
Live: Youth
Lagoon, Manchester Gorilla
Now it’s true that
I only saw four or five gigs this year, but Youth Lagoon - essentially a
vehicle for stupidly talented pipsqueak Trevor Powers - were pretty special.
Powers made a splash with his extraordinary debut The Year of Hibernation
a couple of years ago, showcasing a fragile, epic sound - imagine Arcade Fire
crossed with early Mercury Rev. On that record Powers always seems on the
lookout for the most emotional hook, like a schmindie equivalent of EDM’s dirty
drop. A slight shame, then, that it was this year’s follow up Wondrous Bughouse
- less immediate, more psychedelic and experimental, a little less satisfying -
that formed about 90% of this show. As a result crowd favourites like 17 off
the debut were skipped. But Powers was a charismatic, wide-eyed presence, and if the show never quite spilled over into euphoria, it constantly teetered on the edge.
More of that first album might have tipped it.
