SOMETHING NEW #8

Pointlessly trying to stay afloat in a never-ending sea of musical releases and crushing hipsterdom.

cómo usar los cubiertos – The Curly Organ (2017)

‘‘I too am slightly cracked

So why not cut me some slack?’

The Curly Organ (aka Donal McConon) has never been one to do things by half measures so it didn’t surprise me to discover that this particular release was not a stand-alone project but rather the first of four E.P.s due throughout the month of July. It’s ambitious, idiosyncratic, and it’s also something I’ve been waiting for for a long time.

From seeing him play in college Open Mics (where he would perform under aliases such as ‘Butterbean McCafferty’) to his work as co-front-person of Galway cult anti-folk band My Fellow Sponges, I’ve always enjoyed McConon’s songs, which have consistently proved to be wordy and wide-eyed introspective bursts of eccentricity and vulnerability. There’s elements of Jeffrey Lewis and smatterings of Fionn Regan but comparing him to others will never do his work any justice, as seen from this release, the title of which translates to ‘How to Use Cutlery’ (alas, we both studied Spanish in NUIG).

McConon has never been one to limit himself musically and this particular E.P. appears to be a series of bedroom recordings that were clearly recorded in a bedroom where the bed is rarely used with the resulting work being an impressive soundscape of loops, samples (some of which are simply field recordings of the songwriter’s encounters) and gorgeously arranged acoustic instruments.

Admittedly it opens a tad bizarrely with a taped voicemail message from a South Korean describing his country’s relationship with its hostile neighbours to the north, surrounded by a series of warped clinks and clanks. The following track ‘Ophelia’ is a patchwork quilt of noises both from instruments and non-instruments alike, complete with observational meanderings and a kalimba riff that at times seems a bit maddening. However any sense of aural overwhelm is quickly brushed off for the following three tracks, which are gorgeously arranged pontifications on human nature, self-betterment and how we as a species are not taught how to properly address our feelings. ‘Livin’ is tough’ proves to be a particular highlight with it’s conversational lyrics and crescendo into a beautiful laidback jam that ebbs and flows just the right amount

The whole project all appears to be a work of incredible catharsis for McConon, both from a lyrical and musical point of view and the result has moments of real authentic beauty. He’s finally playing by his own rules and it’s utterly refreshing if a little intimidating. We still have three more E.P.s to go after all and I await each one with vigour.

Available to purchase here

My 8 Favourite ‘Tiny Desk Concerts’

My 8 Favourite ‘Tiny Desk Concerts’

I have addressed in the past how hard I think it is it is to discover new music because there are so many different places to do so and one of the main points of writing these posts (51 AND COUNTING Y’ALL) is to broaden my musical horizons and by extension, yours as well. NPR’s ‘Tiny Desk Concerts’ series which comes in both video and podcast form has become one of my dependable go-to’s for doing so, the premise of which is remarkably simple; musical acts both old and new play stripped-down versions of their songs in the confines of the NPR office. I never cease to be amazed by the consistent quality of the acts showcased and the average 15-minute runtime helps with satisfying my ever-decreasing attention span. ‘Where to start?!’ you may ask, hands clutched to both sides of your face, or possibly to a stranger. Fear not friends, here’s my favourite few to get the ball rolling. Also, comment below your own picks.

 

Anderson Paak & The Free Nationals

 

Though he topped many critics polls last years with his album ‘Malibu’, it admittedly took awhile for me to warm up to Anderson Paak. Five seconds into this performance though and you could have stuck a fork in me because baby, I was ready. The stops! The starts! The grooves! Those smooth vocals! THAT RIGHT HAND! I was bowled over, quickly coming to the realization that what really held me back from enjoying ‘Malibu’ was not the songs themselves but the production and as one YouTube viewer comments ‘He makes love to a drumkit, watching him play is like a category on PornHub.’ Here Paak and his cool-as-flip band take the TDC audience for a 15-minute journey one wishes was 4 times as long, while making it look fiendishly easy. A must.

 

Moon Hooch

I have a love-hate relationship with the saxophone that prominently leans towards the ‘hate’-side but suffice to say, Moon Hooch, who are two-thirds saxophone (and one-third ‘the best drummer I’ve ever seen’) completely changed my view of the instrument. Melding the catchiest of sax riffs (I can’t believe I wrote that) with fiendish shuffle rhythms and a healthy dose of dissonant squealing, the three-piece present the Tiny Desk with a set that’s as memorable as it is groovy. It’s really hard to take your eyes off the drummer though.

 

Courtney Barnett

As a songwriter Courtney Barnett is, in my eyes, one of the best to emerge in the last few years and it is on this TDC that she truly demonstrates her overall talent and loveliness. Though anyone familiar with her music knows she can wail as well as any alt-rocker out there, here the stripped-down set-up of her and her hollowbody lets her lyrics and hooks shine and her wide-eyed optimism injects light into practically any situation, from house-hunting in a lousy neighbourhood to having an asthma attack as a result of a new gardening habit. It’s hard to pick my favourite lyric.

 

The National

Proooooobbbablyyyy my favourite Tiny Desk Concert as well as one of my favourite live performances by any band ever, I have watched The National’s TDC dozens of time. A perfect example of how a band as seasoned as this can successfully strip down their arrangements, which often come across resembling a wall-of-sound. Here the Brooklyn group remove instruments, inject more voices to give the music more of sense of passion and even confine their Duracell Bunny of a drummer, Bryan Devendorf to shakers for majority of the set, making for a touching and vulnerable display of graceful man-feelings. If you’re not moved by the first song, perhaps this isn’t for you, you soul-less freak.

 

Dan Deacon

I think it would be fair to say that each act selected by NPR to do a TDC bring something uniquely special but Dan Deacon’s performance is a fucking event. This TDC is special for many reasons, mostly in that we see more audience involvement than ever before  Opening with a meditative mantra in which Deacon encourages everybody to channel Martin Lawrence’s character from Bad Boys 2, the viewer is thrust into a (near 25 minute) journey full of colourful twists and turns including the loveable electro-nerd controlling a fully-functional player-piano via his laptop to conducting a dance contest for the whitest audience you’ve ever seen. By the end he looks absolutely wrecked and rightfully so. Leading and soundtracking a 100-person ‘group interpretive dance’ can’t be easy.

 

Gaelynn Lea

Every year, NPR hosts a competition for members of the public to submit their own performances in the hopes of playing their own official TDC and when I heard the winning entry of the 2016 contest, ‘Someday We’ll Linger in the Sun’ by Gaelynn Lea on the TDC podcast, I thought it was a more-than-worthy selection. However, watching it was a completely different experience. Here was someone that was not only affected more by music than I could possibly imagine, but also a person who could also create it with such a unique sense of integrity and grace that many musicians would kill for. It’s a touching watch and a shining example of why TDC is such a valuable platform for songwriters

 

Chris Thile and Michael Daves

I have a very good friend who is obsessed with all things ‘string instruments’, particularly the mandolin and upon getting to know him, I was introduced to the work of Chris Thile, a mandolin-player who probably holds the record for the most TDC appearances. Though I enjoy Thile’s performances with Nickel Creek and The Punch Brothers, I have to say it’s Thile’s duet with bluegrass singer-guitarist that really blew me away, which is admittedly mostly due to Daves’ chops. Here the pair perform tracks from their album ‘Sleep With One Eye Open’ and transport the viewer back to a different era of modern bluegrass, when values were simple but acoustic-shredding was the order of the day. So, so good.

 

T-Pain

I couldn’t not put this on the list. The most viewed TDC on YouTube with more than 3 million hits more than any other video, T-Pain’s performance is a lot of things; surprising, soulful and above all, charming as all hell. Singing stripped down-songs with a smooth AF keyboard player, the King of Autotune completely flips the script on the audience’s perception of him, displaying vocal chops that are as heartfelt as they are powerful. Anybody familiar with his work within modern hip-hop could easily dismiss T-Pain as something of a clown but this performance shows a real talent lurking beneath a somewhat vulnerable artist making it possibly the best example of how TDC’s are unlike any other performances on the internet. You won’t want to only watch it once.

 

Tank and the Bangas

Worthy winners of this year’s aforementioned TDC competition (their submission is undeniably captivating), New Orleans’ Tank and the Bangas are the reason for me writing this list. Capturing funk, soul, hip hop with wide-eyed storytelling techniques and fronted by former slam-poet Tarriona “Tank” Ball, the group have more character rolled into any ten seconds of their music than many do in entire albums. This is a band that don’t just live for performing, they live for music full-stop and there are days where I’ve listened to little but this particular performance. Funky, soulful and always ‘on’ TATB were born for the stage and I’ll hopefully see them on one someday in the not-too-distant future.

SOMETHING OLD #8

Personal favourites from days-passed.

May contain nostalgic gibbering.

I Love You Honeybear (2015) – Father John Misty

Living it up
Have it all
Pull more women than any two men or train can haul
But my baby, she does something way more impressive than the Georgia Crawl
She blackens pages like a Russian romantic
Gets down more often than a blowup doll

So as I begin my MA thesis on FJM I thought it fitting to include an entry on ILYHB, one of my favourite albums of the past decade. Plus, I don’t have the strength to write about Pure Comedy right now.

There are few acoustic guitar-wielding Caucasian males in 21st Century America that would take it upon themselves to name their second major-label release ‘I Love You Honeybear’, but then, Josh Tillman (AKA Father John Misty) does not seem to really fit into this category. The former Fleet Fox appears to have shaken himself free of any creative shackles that may have constrained him in the past to create an extremely competent album that explores the concerns of modern manhood, articulating it with the acoustic guitar way down in the mix.

 

Opening with the line ‘Oh, honeybear, honeybear, honeybear Ooh-ooh

Mascara blood/ Ash and cum/ On the Rorschach sheets where we make love’ Tillman sets the bear-all tone, guiding the listener on a 45-minute journey that focuses on his marriage to photographer and filmmaker Emma Garr in which no stone of intimacy is left unturned. The songwriter has always expressed a crippling fear of resorting to cliche and this comes through in his lyrics, which are refreshing, honest, brutal and at times, hilarious. On Strange Encounter he professes ‘I can hardly believe I’ve found you and I’m terrified by that’ while on ‘The Ideal Husband’ he professes a laundry list of his faults as a human being like ‘Telling people jokes to shut them up’ and ‘Resenting people that I love’. Possibly the most sardonic moment comes in ‘The Night Josh Tillman Came To Our Apartment’ in which he bitterly addresses a the vapid faults of a former lover ‘She says, like literally, music is the air she breathes/ And the malaprops make me want to fucking scream/ I wonder if she even knows what that word means, Well, it’s literally not that’. The claws are out and it’s glorious to witness.

‘Honeybear’ lacks the (at-times frantic) search for personal meaning expressed on Tillman’s previous release ‘Fear Fun’, to adopt something of a dismissive, almost apathetic outlook towards the concerns of the average American, even poking fun at his former self and image in the process ‘You see me as I am, it’s true Aimless, fake drifter, and the horny man-child momma’s boy to boot’. The result of such dismissiveness comes in possibly the album’s centrepiece, ‘Bored in the Usa’ a song written with tongue placed firmly in-cheek. Incorporating canned laughter and begging for salvation from ‘President Jesus!’, Tillman uses the song as a vehicle to point out the absurdity of modern daily life filled with debt, materialism and ‘a useless education’ culminating in the final line ‘Just a little bored in the USA, How did this happen?’. It’s a question he is simply here to ask, not to answer.

Musically, the album weaves and winds its way through a variety of orchestrations, reflecting the lyrical content being presented while showing very little sense of restraint, courtesy of producer Jonathan Wilson. On ‘True Affection’, Tillman laments the abundance of technology-based conversation that has engulfed his own love life against a backdrop of jittering synthesisers while on ‘Chateau Lobby #4’ he sings about gallivanting through the titular Hollywood hotel, surrounded by Disney-esque orchestra swirls and a full Mariachi band. Though at times Spector-esque and purposefully over the top, the music matches the singers unabashed lyrics and culminates in some moments of real beauty. One particular example is the stunningly- vulnerable album closer ‘I Went to the Store One Day’ in which Tillman muses about the moment he met his new wife, accompanied by a tremolo-plucked mandolin and a string section that doubling his vocal melody, reinforcing his words to the point that by the final stanza, the listener hanging on his every syllable.

‘I Love You Honeybear’ would make a fine addition to any time-capsule that aims to capture modern life. It’s universal themes of romance and redemption are conveyed with a sense of contemplation and conviction, making it reflectively personal yet extremely accessible. Tillman portrays the intricacies that accompany being in love within a society in which people want to be heard but have very little to say, doing so with snark, bravado and an undeniable sense tenderness this crazy world desperately needs yet so often lacks.

 

SOMETHING BLUES #7

Blues. It’s made for Sundays

I know this is being published on a Bank Holiday Monday but that’s pretty much the same as a Sunday. No one has work and everyones hungover. Huzzah.

Albert King with Stevie Ray Vaughan – In Session (1983)

‘Well, it’s just like old times…’

Forgiveness for the lateness of this post, attractive readers. I’ve been spending the last month finishing work for my MA (that’s masters, not mother).

Expect posting of weekly articles to resume, post-haste!

Unlike musical genres such as rock and pop, that are accompanied by plethoras of sub-genres and categories (‘alternative’, ’80s’, ‘Korean’ etc), for me the blues is a genre that needs to be only divided into two distinct categories; ‘old’ and ‘new’.

Sure, there’s many subdivisions within these (usually regarding location) (probably not ‘Korean’) but the titles of ‘new blues’ and ‘old blues’ each come with a host of instantly identifiable albums, players and imagery and some would argue to identify the point where the two styles really met…

OR IS IT?!

This brings us to one of my favourite blues albums ever recorded, one where the two styles of ‘old blues’ and ‘new blues’ literally did meet. And by styles I mean ‘players that represented these styles’ and by ‘literally’ I mean ‘literally’.

In December 1983, 60 year-old Albert King and 29 year-old Stevie Ray Vaughan met in a studio in Toronto to record songs for a live television special backed by a band of seasoned session musicians. The resulting recordings wouldn’t be released on audio format for another 16 years and it would take another 7 years on top of that for the CD to find it’s way into my chubby teenage hands.

Now I know I’ve yakked about albums by SRV before (and why shouldn’t I? he’s my second favourite blues guitar player, so shut up) but this was the first album of his that I ever heard and believe you me I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction.

Why do you ask? Well, first and foremost, the jaaaaaaams are kicked out within an inch of their lives. Few of these songs clock in under 7 minute mark making them essentially showcases for both players to execute every lick in their repertoire and though this could be considered hell by some musos, for me it’s blues wanking at it’s absolute finest.

Which brings us to the playing itself and I have absolutely no qualms in saying that Vaughan plays Lee under the table, to the point that it’s like Ralph Macchio waxing the living hell out of Mr Miyagi. Now I know this is somewhat unfair to compare the two, what with Lee being double Vaughan’s age but it gets to the point where it’s hard to ignore with  Vaughan’s distinctively-muscular strat tone and ability to rip over the chord changes making him tower over Lee’s weak sounding Flying V and somewhat rusty chops.

But it’s not just music to enjoy here. The between-song banter shared by the two is nothing if not charming, and Lee’s stories about jamming with Hendrix and seeing a young Stevie Ray play years earlier are a delight to hear bringing a smile to the listener as well as the players.

This album is a forgotten gem within the realm of blues guitar and though it’s a shame we don’t hear more of SRV’s own material (Pride and Joy being his only original contribution) it’s still a delight t these classic blues tracks being played by two of the greats from widely different eras. Stick it in your ears and practice your ‘blues-face’.

SRV don’t like no Les Pauls.

Something Borrowed #7

Recommendations from my know-all, musically-savvy, usually physically attractive associates.

This week: Cooler-than-you professor in Musicology and expert in all things jazz and hip-hop, Dr. J. Griffith Rollefson. 

Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (1996)

‘Thought what I wanted was something I needed
When momma said no I just should have heeded
Misled I bled till the poison was gone
And out of the darkness arrived the sweet dawn’

As a dedicated customer of Spotify Premium (or Spotty Preem as I call it) (coz I’m cool) I get a list compiled every January of the most regularly listened-to songs from the previous year. Last year, narrowly placing above the drivel that I’d had to learn to play in cover bands,’Drunk Drivers/ Killer Whales’ placed as my number one for 2016 which wasn’t that surprising. I fecking lived in that song, lads.

This year, however I already know what is going to be my most-listened to song of 2017 (and it’s only March for goodness’ sake). It’s going to be ‘I Used to Love Him’ by MS. Lauryn Hill. ‘Why?’ you may ask, ‘is it because you relate so much to independent, young, god-fearing American black women?’ Not exactly.

See, as part of my MA I’m co-writing a paper on this particular song for a research project designed to see how much I can learn about the significance of a particular pop track and as a result, I have listened to it ad nauseum. I’ve gone walking with it, taken it for ice-cream, lay in bed with it, gotten terribly frustrated with it, broken up with for a few weeks and then made-up with it. We’re now back to officially going steady.

Though the project has been at-times frustrating, I am grateful as it has shown me how wonderful ‘Miseducation’ is as a whole. It was always one of those albums that I was being recommended by musical institutions growing up that I never really took the time to listen to. We all have them. What’s yours? Probably ‘Demon Days’ by Gorillaz…

The more I read about her, the less I feel that I understand Lauryn Hill as an artist and I shan’t disclose to much about her political/religious views but suffice to say she is indeed a divisive figure. However if I had to say that there’s one thing I’ve learned from this album it’s that she’s got a flow as sick as a small hospital. Time and time again I have been knocked out by her slick lyrical verbosity on tracks like ‘Everything is Everything’ and ‘Doo Wop (That Thing’) and what’s more, her singing voice is just STUNNING in both it’s power and tone. She bravely places herself as a voice for undervalued young black women in America, two decades before it would be represented so prominently again.

SWAG.

The album has been lauded for it’s unique ability to cross between genres and musically it really is all over the map, from soul to reggae to dirty NYC hip hop with the odd modal Santana solo thrown in. It’s rare to see so many influences appear yet pulled off with such conviction made possible not just by a sizeable team of musicians, guest stars and producers but also by the creative vision of Hill herself.

I suppose what I really enjoy about this album is that it transports you back to a time (THE NINETIES) (WHICH ‘GOOSEBUMPS’ CHARACTER ARE YOU? TAKE OUR BUZZFEED QUIZ) when the album itself was considered to be a real art form. This made evident not only by the gorgeously-flowing way in which the song order is constructed but also through the ‘skit’-like interludes in which we learn the supposed ‘love education’ that Lauryn is supposedly missing out on. It’s a wonderful trip of an album that transports you into the world of a young woman who has a lot to say and knows just how to articulate it.

Tracks to stream

• Doo Wop (That Thing)
• Lost Ones
• I Used to Love Him

Review An Album in 150ish Words #3

Jamiroquai – Automaton (2017)

In a world faced with climate change, economic instability and blatant political corruption I’m surprised we don’t pause more to ask ‘BUT WHERE IS THE MUSIC OF JAMIROQUAI WHEN WE NEED IT THE MOST?!’.

Well, fear not ye multitudes, after 25 years in the business (wait…what?) Jay Kay and the rest of the band (who I presume have long been replaced by Apple loops) are back with their own brand of redundant, watery funk, laying down such lyrical gems as ‘I WANT YOU TO ROCK WITH ME BABY, ROCK ME BABY ALL NIGHT LONG’ and ‘MY BABY’S HOT HOT HOT HOT PROPERTY’.

Hallelujah.

Musically, it’s awash with vocoders, syncopated bass lines and an electric guitar with the two lowest strings missing, making it like Daft Punk in everything but name, only lacking any sense of punk and being immeasurably more daft.

That video for Virtual Insanity came out in 1996 and it still looks unreal and this hasn’t even been released yet and it’s already somehow remarkably dated. Safe yourself the time and go listen to Vulfpeck.

Review An Album in 150ish Words #2

Sleaford Mods- English Tapas (2017)

Sleaford Mods’ new release marks a decade of the duo releasing an album a year making them as prolific as they are misanthropic. Like everything they’ve ever done, this album relies on a simple formula, making English Tapas an extremely apt title as it consists of a smorgasbord of songs that rarely pass the 3 minute mark with little variety in between. But alas, if it’s not broke don’t fix it, just have a can of cheap lager and shout at it.

The beats are simple, the bass is thuddy and the Sprechgesang vocals are as frustrated as ever but there are moments of progression as signified by the incorporation of slower BPMs, vocal harmonies and the odd studio effect. If you’re a fan, do check it out, if you’re not ,go back a couple years and check out Key Markets, innit?

SOMETHING NEW #7

NOTE: This was originally written for Motley Magazine.

Pointlessly trying to stay afloat in a never-ending sea of musical releases and crushing hipsterdom.

Hamburg Demonstrations (2016) – Peter Doherty

“Come on, boys, choose your weapons,

 J-45 or an AK-47?”

Ah, Germany.

 

Despite it’s questionable musical output (I dare you to name anything other than Rammestein and 99 Red Balloons) and taste (it is, after all, the nation that embraced David Hasselhoff’s musical career with open arms), it certainly has a reputation for alluring songwriters.

 

The nation — currently residing Wallis Bird and Anton Newcombe of the Brian Jonestown Massacre — is responsible for the glorious ‘Berlin periods’ of David Bowie, Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, and is now home of Peter (not Pete) (but still pretty much Pete) Doherty, who just has released his own recordings taken from his time spent in Hamburg, the city where the Beatles learned to not be terrible.

 

The ex-co-frontman of NME-darlings, The Libertines, Doherty has become (in)famous for a great deal of activities, very few of which being actually music-related and in Hamburg Demonstrations, he seems determined to show that he still capable of writing the odd ‘wistful rapscallion’ anthem. And is he?

 

Einen Moment, bitte.

 

Firstly, despite the years of rollicking with Shane McGowan, Doherty’s voice hasn’t really changed a bit since his glory days, particularly surprising when one realises that Up The Bracket was FIFTEEN YEARS AGO. He continues to sing in a register that makes each line seem like staying in key is like crossing a tethering rope bridge and there are more than a few moments where one really wishes Carl Bârat would show up for a verse to balance the whole thing out.

 

Doherty has always had a penchant to wax poetic about the modern world (and indeed his own doe-eyed exploits) and it’s becomes quickly clear that this is still a large part of his songwriting process. He dreamily warbles his way through a number of topics, from the characters of Brighton Rock (‘Kolly Kibber’) to the downfall of his friend Amy Winehouse (Flags of the Old Regime) to the Bataclan attacks in Paris, his former city of residence (Hell to Pay at the Gates of Heaven) the extent of which runs the gamut from boyishly charming to ‘oh get on with it will you?’

 

In fact this seems to be the reigning problem of Hamburg Demonstrations; everything it has going for it also seems to be accompanied by something that detracts from it. Clever lines are sung and then almost instantly repeated, thus diminishing their overall cleverness and for every song worth mentioning (such as superb album closer ‘She is Far’) there is also one that is certainly not (‘Oily Boker’ is five minutes of my life that I could have spent watching people falling over things online). A lot of them sound like first takes which, though showing a sense of raw DIY energy, test one’s nature to forgive the odd bum vocal or improperly-executed chord, particularly after the half-way mark. It’s half of a great album, which is a good sign and we can only hope that his next release will contain a higher fraction of what makes it shine.

 

All in all, Hamburg Demonstrations won’t disappoint hardcore fans and is certainly Doherty’s most coherent work of late. However, that’s rather akin to making a new friend who turns out to be a junkie, when all your other friends are meth-heads.

 

Achtung, baby.

 

There! I went to whole review without mentioning Kate Moss.

Aw, darn.

SOMETHING OLD #7

Personal favourites from days-passed.

May contain nostalgic gibbering.

Small Change (1976) – Tom Waits

‘So you ask me what I’m doing here holding up the lamp-post,
Flipping this quarter, trying to make up my mind
And if it’s heads I go to Tennessee, and tails I buy a drink,
If it lands on the edge I keep talking to you’

Due to his constant reinvention of himself over a five decade period and a gifted eye for both melody and lyrics, Tom Waits is hands-down my favourite singer-songwriter. Thus, asking me to choose my favourite Tom Waits album is like asking me to choose between my gorgeous, mangled, inebriated and entirely hypothetical children. Does one opt for the undeniably cool atmosphere of Nighthawks at the Diner? The heartfelt crooning of Closing Time? The beautifully dislocated howling of Rain Dogs? Or even the stripped-down three-chord growl of Heart Attack and Vine?

I would argue that few would opt for my own choice of Small Change but I’m here to explain why it’s my favourite, and why you should listen to it if you haven’t done so in awhile, or (heaven forbid) you never have before.

Small Change is an ode to the Jazz Age in practically every aspect and it is at this point that I feel I must attest that, despite my boyish charm and penchant for spontaneous song-and-dance numbers, I am far from a ‘Ryan Gosling- in La La Land’ type jazz enthusiast. It being love letter to the Golden Age of Jazz is part of what makes it as unique as it is, as it was written and recorded in a time when jazz wasn’t necessarily the coolest thing around.

Pictured: The Coolest Thing Around

At this stage of his career, Waits had adopted the role of a wino-beatnik, singing songs of love, booze and burlesque and paying heavy tribute to Kerouac, Armstrong and Gershwin and Small Change is perhaps this particular period’s shining moment. Sure Nighthawks at the Diner has the banter, but this one has the SONGS.

When going into what makes it such a gem, it’s impossible to ignore album opener ‘Tom Traubert’s Blues (Four Sheets to the Wind in Copenhagen)’. It’s a bold statement in that not only is it far more orchestral and lyrically delicate than anything Waits had released beforehand but it is sung in a guttural, almost monstrous vocal timbre, a far cry from the ‘waistcoat-folk troubadour’ voice that Waits had sung in only a few years earlier.

Such a vocal style has become something of a trademark for Waits but here it was a declaration that he was now playing by his own rules, officially setting the tone for the album’s remaining 40 minutes which in he slurs, swings, scats and overall, shines. It’s introspective and touching but not without a sense of boozy lyrical humour and I feel the idea to close such a nostalgia-fest with ‘I Can’t Wait to Get Off’ work is an inspired move.

Though I feel that Closing Time is the best place to start one’s Tom Waits exploration, it is only to put the rest of his work in context. Small Change is when he really started to become a master of his craft as both a songwriter and arranger as well as a true original with the songs being executed with such a cool articulation that makes it both out-of-time and ultimately, timeless.

My Favourite Albums of 2016

First of all…I know.

I know I’m late.

I know. that I should have put this out weeks ago but I feel the second week of following January is almost as good a time as any to put out an annual reflection, right? I’m fooling no one here.

I feel I should preface this by saying I know how excellent Blackstar, Blonde, Lemonade, Skeleton Tree and Moon-Shaped Pool are. Everybody does, and this is kind of the point of this list; to shed some light on some particular gems from a year that I listened to a greater variety of music than ever before.

It’s not a top 10, it’s just a selection of personal pics. Take from them what you will.

But first: Damn, I got old.

My ‘I Got Old’ Album

‘The Invisible Kid’

 Aesop Rock

From the dazzling moments of humility on Kanye West’s The Life of Pablo to Chance the Rapper’s gospel-influenced Colouring Book topping many critics end-of-year lists, 2016 was a winning year for the hip-hop genre. But ‘what about Aesop Rock?’ asked… me.

I’ve been following and spreading the word of the incredibly articulate Brooklyn rapper for years and was gasping for new material from him. What he delivered was one of his best releases in years, a ponderous reflection on what’s been changing both in his life and in the world at large. Rock’s viscerally-visual style is matched with a slicker-than-slick production, delivering so much more than a ‘kids these days, amiright?’ message.

 

My ‘Galway is Still Ireland’s Cultural Mecca’ Album

‘Eoin Dolan’

Eoin Dolan

Having adored Dolan’s two previous E.P.’s, I was waiting for this album for what seemed like forever. Needless to say, it was worth the wait.

The singer songwriter’s first full length LP is drenched in Brian Wilson-esque melody, combining the more introspective highlights from his older releases with upbeat and catchy numbers with the whole thing working surprisingly well.

Dolan has clearly honed his meticulous production chops and recruited a bevy of Galway’s talented musicians to carefully crafted an LP that, though rich in dreamy nostalgia will undeniably stand the test of time.

 

My ‘I’m Kinda Glad I Waited Until 2017 to Write This’ Album

‘Run The Jewels 3’

Run The Jewels

Hip-hop fans around the globe rejoiced to find this in their stockings on Christmas day while music critics lamented not being able to feature it on their end-of-year lists.

 

WELL, WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?

 

‘RTJ2’ popped up on my ‘Best of 2015’ list and I have listened to that album INTO THE FUCKING GROUND so this one was kind of inevitable. Though lacking the aggression and ‘one cohesive piece of music’ approach of their previous release, this album is a slicker and more complacent work with more articulate flow and heart pounding production that never lacks the one-two punch of its creators.

In RTJ3, Killer Mike and EL-P have delivered an album that music fans need right now. Whether we deserve it is another matter altogether…

 

My ‘I Don’t Know Why I Like This’ Album

 

‘Beyond The Fleeting Glass’

Crying

Last year I put Colleen Green’s I Don’t Want To Grow Up as my ‘I Really Shouldn’t Like This But I Do’ album and this is somewhat similar.

NYC electro-pop trio Crying have constructed a debut album full of dreamy synthy hooks, shimmering girl vocals and the occasional, frantic guitar wank. And it all works surprisingly well. The whole thing is unapologetically rooted in 80’s sounds erecting a wall of sound made of synthesisers and Super Nintendo ‘loading’ screens. Heartfelt, hook-y and proof that perhaps the children are the future after all.

 

My ‘(Pop) Punk’s Not Dead’ Album

‘WORRY’

Jeff Rosenstock

We’re all worried, and Jeff Rosenstock is here to affirm that not only is that completely OK, but it’s also somewhat necessary to survive this goshdarn crazy world.

His third album is filled with an upbeat feeling of anxiety, the second half of which is basically one continuous song full of twists and turns, hooks and powerchords. Politics, love and the powers-that-be are all addressed as sources of what is essentially ‘Wait. What? aaaagggggghhh!’

This 37-minute, 17-song gem is a testament to the belief that it’s still possible to make great pop-punk and provides something of a remedy for all those disparaged by the unfortunate direction Green Day have gone in. Ah, lads…

I can safely say I’ll be listening to this album for years. Strap yourself the fuck in.

 

My ‘Token Album by a Nearly Dead/ All Dead Artist’ Album

‘Post- Pop Depression’

Iggy Pop

Yes, Blackstar is amazing and haunting and a lot of other things but I feel homage to PPD must also be paid. I swear, if you would have told me 5 years ago that Iggy Pop was going to outlive Lou Reed AND David Bowie I would have laughed at you and said that Bowie was going to outlive us all. This is one of the many reasons I am not an investment banker.

Enlisting Queens of the Stone Age’s Joshua Homme to co-write and produce this swansong, Pop has released one of the best albums by an elder-statesman of rock since Robert Plant’s ‘Raising Sand’, combining Homme’s penchant for sexy twisted fuzz guitar with an old man who isn’t going to take it any more. Except this old man is Iggy Pop. 

My ‘Triumphant Comeback/ This Really Shouldn’t Be As Good as It Is’ Album

‘Weezer (The White Album)’

Weezer

I love this album.

I love how the nonsensical the lyrics are but also love how Weezer have reeled in the silliness of the last decade to focus on the melody and hooks that made them such a good band in a first place.

I love how they’ve produced possibly one of the most wonderful album closers of year that sounds almost nothing like a Weezer song.  

I love how I can practically hum every vocal line and guitar riff on the record from memory.

Most of all I love how the creators of two of my favourite albums have defied all odds to come back 20 years later and create a third.

My ‘I Know Some Really Talented People’ Album

‘400 Days’

Whim

I Love You Honeybear by Father John Misty was my favourite album of 2015 but it also forced me to stray away from listening to the folky acoustic guitar- brandishing singer-songwriters as I felt a new bar had been set. However there were a few exceptions, mostly to be found on my own turf and I can very easily say that I know some great people who write some great songs.

Emma Langford’s debut E.P. was wonderful, as was this debut from Portland-raised, Galway-based folk-er, Sarah Dimuzio AKA Whim. Simple, serene and gorgeously flowing, Dimuzio has poured her heart into these songs of love, loss and Galway. She’ll go far and we’ll hear all about it.

My ‘Embrace Technology, For One Day It Will Rule Us All’ Album

‘22, A Million’

Bon Iver

I was admittedly taken aback when I first heard this album’s debut singles, thinking ‘I love Justin Vernon but I don’t know if he can get away with this’.

This is a million (no pun intended) light years from the soft musings of ‘For Emma…’ and clearly shows a definite Kanye ‘do what you want, and if they don’t like it, fuck em’ influence which, in turn allows Vernon to show a maturity in both his confidence and vision/.

Heavily using (and abusing) production effects, it’s an album that is cracked, distorted and intimidatingly layered but it shouldn’t put you off.

You’re not allowed to listen to it just once.

 

My ‘My Favourite Album of the Year’ Album

‘Teens of Denial’

Car Seat Headrest

Friends, acquaintances, blog readers and people I meet on the street are probably sick of me gushing over this album so I’ll try and keep this brief.

On paper it shouldn’t work: A terribly-titled band fronted by 23 year-old moany, McLovin-looking kid who put together an album of songs that detail his experience trying hallucinogens at a party and why you shouldn’t drive home drunk, the majority of which clock-in well over the 5-minute mark (one clocks in at 11 and a half). And yet here it is.

With lyrics that are as knowingly-clever as they are apathetic-sounding and a new melodic hook appearing every 30 seconds that most indie bands would give their bass player for, Teens of Denial is an experience that allows you to live in it for as long as you need. Also, Drunk Drivers/ Killer Whales is my favourite song of the year and I’ll be putting it on playlists until I die.

Have a tremendous 2017, people.