What Fun Music Was

Better late than never? A list of '05 musics--

The Year, Reviewed:

SPOON - Gimme Fiction
This has become popular enough for me to not have to go into details, but let me just say that Gimme Fiction is the most solid top-to-bottom rock album that I've heard this year, from songwriting to production. Britt Daniels hits all the wrong notes right, leaves a lot of blank space, and makes it work wonderfully.

MY MORNING JACKET - Z
Another indie version of a Southern-fried jam band goes into the studio with a legendary British producer and out pops intriguing hybrid wizardry. Soaring, echoing vocals, with grand sweeping (I almost said emo) instrumentation -- and yes, occasionally the jam rears its wooly head too. The Flaming Lips did not put out an album this year, thank you very much, but it does neither band a disservice to say that Z fills that hole nicely. Most Improved Player.

THE WARLOCKS - Surgery
Even though it's become increasingly fashionable to bash this cobbled-together band of strung-out misfits (is using Gibsons really a capital offense?), I thought they did a great job of emulating their influences. Dear Pitchfork: It's sometimes OK to be obvious.

AKRON/FAMILY - s/t and Akron/Family and the Angels of Light
Embodying the phrase "promising debut," the self-titled full-length weds some fairly middle of the road singer-songwriter stuff to heavenly keyboard overdubs and communal clamor. The EP shows more range, including a tendency towards wild skronk that's almost mathy; that is, if they weren't in the same song throwing both fay British folk vocals and field hollers on top (see: "Raising the Sparks").

VASHTI BUNYAN - Lookaftering
A legendary folk lady has returned after a 30+ year absence from recording. She's got a good excuse, having spent that time raising a family (as is referred to in the title, and in many of the lyrics). Her light, airy voice and delicate acoustic guitar does not make for good driving, headphone, or party music, but set up an empty room, hit play, and have this album reward you with its winsome enchantment.

1st Encounters:

HORACE ANDY - Dance Hall Style
From 1980, on the Wackies label, reissued with money gained from the sale of German techno (!). "Dance hall style" means that songs and dubs are seamlessly strung together into hazy, tripped-out rhythms reminscent of the best of Black Ark, as sung by one of the more distinctive voices in reggae.

KONONO NO. 1 - Congotronics
This is showing up on a lot of year-end lists, but my CD clearly gives an '04 copyright, so I'm listing it here. The first track is a little too "world music" for me, but from there the trance is induced, and any argument I may have with it falls away.

SCOTT WALKER - 4
One of the more incongruous great 60's albums (and yes, that's saying something), 4 finds Walker singing an entire album of his own songs for the first, and last, time. Finally the orchestral tendencies of his earlier solo LPs have been reined in to enhance, not detract, from his lovely, syrupy voice, and strikingly cracked lyrics.

BILL FAY - Time of the Last Persecution
Wherein the weary young folkie of the self-titled debut turns into apocalyptic prophet, having seen Kent State as a signal towards the Antichristian forces of totalitarian government. Despite the doomy tone, shafts of light do illuminate some beautiful compositions. Perhaps the most surprising thing about this album is that it's so listenable, and with most songs clocking in around three minutes, almost radio-ready. Gone is the overbearing symphony of the first album; enter the fret-shredding of jazz player Ray Russell.

As Seen:

WIRE - On the Box 1979
I could never figure out how they pulled off the first three albums live. Now, I know: they didn't. Who knew that Colin Newman made such a convincing frontman? Or that the band, while they were busy nailing the post to post-punk, spent as much effort in concert erecting the latter term?

Arvo Part: Twenty Four Preludes For A Fugue
Shown at the Sound Unseen music documentary festival in MPLS this year, this quiet, austere film slightly illuminates the homespun orthodoxy of the composer himself. I don't have a better understanding of Part's signature "tintinnabulist" method after seeing this, but the recording of his adaptation of the Robert Burns poem, "My Heart's In the Highlands," leaves an impression that lingers long afterwards, a peace that passeth understanding.