I love The Smiths. Love 'em love 'em love 'em, even though Morrissey is usually way too melodramatic. Even for me.
One of my all-time favorite pleasures is reading lists of albums that people deem "awesome." I usually like this because I'm a cynical bitch who loves ripping apart other people's taste in music while alternately feeling extremely self-conscious about my own. This generally works out as long as I'm talking to someone who doesn't actually know anything about music (i.e.: not Pierce), because people are so intimidated by my SAT vocabulary that they get uncomfortable and change the subject. But I believe that anyone in the world (or most people with half a brain) can agree with the following statement, regardless of taste:
Creed does not belong on a list of Important Albums From the 90's.
Embarrassingly, I used to love Creed. I did. I had "Human Clay" on cassette and I had...whatever the fuck the album they released after that one was. I used to bump it, yeah, and I used to know all the words. However, I think my former knowledge and love for this band has really helped in my Benedict Arnold attitude about them now. Fuck Creed. Fuck them. They were NOT vital to the 90's music scene.
Because, here's really what makes me angry--Creed perpetuated grunge long after grunge was dead and gone. And Creed perpetuating grunge was an insult to grunge itself, which, by all rights and purposes, was pretty awesome. Any genre of music that promotes not showering and dying your hair with Kool Aid is peachy keen with me. Creed didn't do that. Creed was a behemoth of absolute awful. Singer Scott Stapp is an egomaniac who thinks the only thing cooler than God is himself. They are listed on Wikipedia as post-grunge (like such a thing exists), but they really should be listed as Totally Sucky. They represent that entire category of bands who are trying to pretend Kurt Cobain isn't dead. You know the ones--Puddle of Mudd, Nickleback. Bands that your mom probably loves and she thinks this makes her hip and up with the times. I know my mom does. These are bands that have no concept of decent songwriting and usually leave their souls at the door when it comes time to record. Feels to me like they're just money making machines.
Though I say that a lot about bands that piss me off or let me down, I generally don't really like to. I'm sure these people love what they do, even if the music isn't my type. But I have a lot of difficulty finding heart in what they do. There's nothing artistic, they're not pushing buttons or blurring boundaries. They're following a formula. Creed has never put out an album as incredible and life-changing as other records released in the 90's. So really, I find it extremely annoying that someone would put fucking CREED on the exact same pedestal and a band like Radiohead. That, to me, makes no sense.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Yeah Yeah Yeah? No No No.
Ahhh, my life. So much has changed. Including my desire to be a music journalist. It's a difficult thing to let go of, but I find it's so much easier to enjoy/write about music when you don't plan on it being your career. There's much less pressure.
The new Yeah Yeah Yeahs dropped last Tuesday. I, for one, am moderately worried. Actually, I'm very worried. I was only moderately worried after reading the Spin article on them, about how they've decided to take a different, dance-ier approach to the music. I guess it's supposed to sound like listening to Tears For Fears alone in your dark room while you're stoned and freaking out. I don't know how much I agree with that, from what I've heard. And since the album was released, I've only heard negative things from the music snob friends of mine whose opinions I both value and love.
This is an issue that comes up for me whenever a band I love comes out with something new that "redefines the band's sound." I can't ever fault a musician or band for evolving, but sometimes I feel the urge to write letters to all my faves being like "Seriously...why? Why can't you just keep making the same shit? I always liked your old shit! Why change?"
Conor Oberst is on this list, of course.
I first got into the Yeah Yeah Yeahs my senior year of high school. Actually it was sophomore year, but I bought "Fever to Tell" senior year. I loved it. It got me through a break-up. It got me through being infuriated. It got me through being ecstatic. Karen O blew out her vocals over careening, smashing guitars and aggressive drums and I loved every second of it. And though "Show Your Bones" wasn't as aggressive, it was still dark. There was also the idea that the band was going to break up surrounding that album--there was so much fear and uncertainty. And Karen O had just gotten dumped too, which I'm sure contributed to this sense of complete panic. While they were both different, they were both amazing.
"It's Blitz!" is different though. There doesn't seem to be much conflict in the band anymore, at least not like there was on the previous release. I have to write a review for the album for IRT and I'm trying hard not to listen to it before I receive the promo. I'm hoping there's something on there that redeems it, but my roommate picked it up over the weekend and said the first song, "Zero" I believe, is the best and the rest are mediocre. After listening to "Zero" and saying "If this is the best, I don't want to hear anything else," I'm no less concerned. But I suppose a major downfall of mine is the fact that I get stuck on things--stuck on how music has once made me felt and expecting the band responsible, no matter how much time has passed, to stay the exact same as they were on albums that helped me through even the hardest times. "Fever to Tell" was released quite a while ago, so how can I expect Karen O to stay the same? I haven't stayed the same, even if my feelings towards that album have. Nevertheless, even if this crippling nostalgia was my music journo downfall, I can't ever say that something is good just because the band has evolved. If you're not evolving in a direction that's worth me spending all my money on, I'm not going to write a good review. It's like trying to tell your best friend that everything is fine because he/she is changing, even though he/she went from getting straight A's in school to drinking and smoking all the time and just being a general belligerent asshole. It's simply a lie.
But maybe I'll get lucky and discover I'm judging too soon. Who knows.
The new Yeah Yeah Yeahs dropped last Tuesday. I, for one, am moderately worried. Actually, I'm very worried. I was only moderately worried after reading the Spin article on them, about how they've decided to take a different, dance-ier approach to the music. I guess it's supposed to sound like listening to Tears For Fears alone in your dark room while you're stoned and freaking out. I don't know how much I agree with that, from what I've heard. And since the album was released, I've only heard negative things from the music snob friends of mine whose opinions I both value and love.
This is an issue that comes up for me whenever a band I love comes out with something new that "redefines the band's sound." I can't ever fault a musician or band for evolving, but sometimes I feel the urge to write letters to all my faves being like "Seriously...why? Why can't you just keep making the same shit? I always liked your old shit! Why change?"
Conor Oberst is on this list, of course.
I first got into the Yeah Yeah Yeahs my senior year of high school. Actually it was sophomore year, but I bought "Fever to Tell" senior year. I loved it. It got me through a break-up. It got me through being infuriated. It got me through being ecstatic. Karen O blew out her vocals over careening, smashing guitars and aggressive drums and I loved every second of it. And though "Show Your Bones" wasn't as aggressive, it was still dark. There was also the idea that the band was going to break up surrounding that album--there was so much fear and uncertainty. And Karen O had just gotten dumped too, which I'm sure contributed to this sense of complete panic. While they were both different, they were both amazing.
"It's Blitz!" is different though. There doesn't seem to be much conflict in the band anymore, at least not like there was on the previous release. I have to write a review for the album for IRT and I'm trying hard not to listen to it before I receive the promo. I'm hoping there's something on there that redeems it, but my roommate picked it up over the weekend and said the first song, "Zero" I believe, is the best and the rest are mediocre. After listening to "Zero" and saying "If this is the best, I don't want to hear anything else," I'm no less concerned. But I suppose a major downfall of mine is the fact that I get stuck on things--stuck on how music has once made me felt and expecting the band responsible, no matter how much time has passed, to stay the exact same as they were on albums that helped me through even the hardest times. "Fever to Tell" was released quite a while ago, so how can I expect Karen O to stay the same? I haven't stayed the same, even if my feelings towards that album have. Nevertheless, even if this crippling nostalgia was my music journo downfall, I can't ever say that something is good just because the band has evolved. If you're not evolving in a direction that's worth me spending all my money on, I'm not going to write a good review. It's like trying to tell your best friend that everything is fine because he/she is changing, even though he/she went from getting straight A's in school to drinking and smoking all the time and just being a general belligerent asshole. It's simply a lie.
But maybe I'll get lucky and discover I'm judging too soon. Who knows.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
This is what happens when you turn your back on music journalism for a while
It's been a few months, hasn't it.
1) Picked up the latest Deerhunter. It was the straw that broke the camel's back--no matter how hard I try, I will never be the snot nosed indie kid. I'm destined to live an embarrassing life of being a sucker for anything catchy.
2) For some reason, R.E.M. is my new obsession. I feel like this would be more suitable if I went to college fifteen years ago, because now it's like sifting through a time machine. But "Automatic for the People" and "Reckoning" have both done their fair shares in getting me through this horrible situation I've suddenly found myself in!
3) Picked up Cursive's new album today as well. Mama, I'm Swollen. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I had no idea it was dropping today. Since Happy Hollow I haven't been paying much attention. Needless to say, upon first listen it felt like I'd bought a Good Life album by mistake. I'm not happy, but everything deserves a second chance. I guess I just miss the bombast is all.
I could say the same thing about my life of course.
1) Picked up the latest Deerhunter. It was the straw that broke the camel's back--no matter how hard I try, I will never be the snot nosed indie kid. I'm destined to live an embarrassing life of being a sucker for anything catchy.
2) For some reason, R.E.M. is my new obsession. I feel like this would be more suitable if I went to college fifteen years ago, because now it's like sifting through a time machine. But "Automatic for the People" and "Reckoning" have both done their fair shares in getting me through this horrible situation I've suddenly found myself in!
3) Picked up Cursive's new album today as well. Mama, I'm Swollen. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I had no idea it was dropping today. Since Happy Hollow I haven't been paying much attention. Needless to say, upon first listen it felt like I'd bought a Good Life album by mistake. I'm not happy, but everything deserves a second chance. I guess I just miss the bombast is all.
I could say the same thing about my life of course.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Just a side-note
It's too late in 2009 to keep talking about 2008 really, but I'll keep it brief.
Rolling Stone named Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" the number one song, beating out Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" by like at least ten spots.
TAKE THAT KATY PERRY. AND YES, SOME OF US DO REMEMBER JILL SOBULE'S 90S LESBIAN BALLAD OF THE SAME NAME, WHICH IS INFINITELY BETTER THAN YOUR PSEUDO-BISEXUAL EXAMPLE OF HOW WOMEN TODAY FEEL PRESSURED TO MAKE OUT WITH GIRLS WHILE DRUNK WITHOUT THINKING ANYTHING ABOUT THE POOR DYKES WHO MIGHT BE GETTING THEIR HEARTS BROKEN BY CARELESS STRAIGHT GIRLS.
At least Beyonce has a good message. AND better dance moves.
Rolling Stone named Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" the number one song, beating out Katy Perry's "I Kissed a Girl" by like at least ten spots.
TAKE THAT KATY PERRY. AND YES, SOME OF US DO REMEMBER JILL SOBULE'S 90S LESBIAN BALLAD OF THE SAME NAME, WHICH IS INFINITELY BETTER THAN YOUR PSEUDO-BISEXUAL EXAMPLE OF HOW WOMEN TODAY FEEL PRESSURED TO MAKE OUT WITH GIRLS WHILE DRUNK WITHOUT THINKING ANYTHING ABOUT THE POOR DYKES WHO MIGHT BE GETTING THEIR HEARTS BROKEN BY CARELESS STRAIGHT GIRLS.
At least Beyonce has a good message. AND better dance moves.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Quick, before the new year starts
It might be because the year has changed, but already I'm looking back on my year-end list thinking "Why the fuck did I put THAT there?"
This is a common thing for me. I have trouble keeping a firm opinion on certain things, music especially, so I'm used to going back a lot and looking at lists I've made with a tinge of shame/guilt/frustration. Thankfully, this year was slightly less painful than usual. I only have this to say:
There's no reason "Narrow Stairs" should beat out "For Emma, Forever Ago." Granted, I do love "Narrow Stairs" with a hot filthy passion. But "For Emma, Forever Ago" is simply better, and I think I ordered them with "Narrow Stairs" at number one and "For Emma, Forever Ago" at number two because Death Cab struck me harder the first time I heard that album than when I listened to Bon Iver. But since then, Bon Iver has most definitely grown on me. This was a change that occurred before the year was up, so I think I have a right to flip them. That, and I flipped them last night when applying to cokemachineglow.com and I feel guilty not owning up to it. My conscience is bizarre.
Meanwhile--sup Marnie Stern? Why did I spend so much time hating your album title and less time actually listening to how good the album really is? Sometimes mainstream indie music criticism (that statement puts the moron in oxymoron) is dead-on and not just a giant circle jerk of selling out.
This is a common thing for me. I have trouble keeping a firm opinion on certain things, music especially, so I'm used to going back a lot and looking at lists I've made with a tinge of shame/guilt/frustration. Thankfully, this year was slightly less painful than usual. I only have this to say:
There's no reason "Narrow Stairs" should beat out "For Emma, Forever Ago." Granted, I do love "Narrow Stairs" with a hot filthy passion. But "For Emma, Forever Ago" is simply better, and I think I ordered them with "Narrow Stairs" at number one and "For Emma, Forever Ago" at number two because Death Cab struck me harder the first time I heard that album than when I listened to Bon Iver. But since then, Bon Iver has most definitely grown on me. This was a change that occurred before the year was up, so I think I have a right to flip them. That, and I flipped them last night when applying to cokemachineglow.com and I feel guilty not owning up to it. My conscience is bizarre.
Meanwhile--sup Marnie Stern? Why did I spend so much time hating your album title and less time actually listening to how good the album really is? Sometimes mainstream indie music criticism (that statement puts the moron in oxymoron) is dead-on and not just a giant circle jerk of selling out.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
It hurts to know people don't understand how important mixes are
Dear Rob Sheffield,
The first time I saw your face was on some music channel. I think it was VH1's top 40 songs of 2008, but I could be mistaken. I don't think I am. Wherever it was, I thought you were busted-ass ugly.
My father gave me a $300 Simon gift card for Christmas this year. I should be grateful, but I'm not. This is because last year he gave me $500 in cash. If you knew him, you'd understand. Dad shows appreciation through money--that's how he's always been. He sucks, and he's all about power. It's hard to explain, and that isn't want this letter is about. But anyway, the night he gave me the card, I went straight to the Borders around the corner from his house and bought three CDs (Of Montreal's "Skeletal Lampings," Gorillaz's "D-Sides" and an At the Drive-In album whose name currently escapes me, but it has "One Armed Scissor" on it) and two books. The two books are important, because one was "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" by Dave Eggars and "Love is a Mix Tape" by you. I wanted Eggars' book for a while, but yours I found sort of by accident. I'd come across it in the past via amazon.com's fabulous YOU MIGHT LIKE THESE section, and that's why I bought it. My girlfriend Amy tells me she thought of buying it for me when we started dating, but never did. I wish she had.
I'm only about halfway through the second chapter, but I still feel like you're writing my life.
I'm sorry Renee died. But I'm very happy that you understand the importance of mix tapes like I do. I'm happy you do the same thing I do when you're interested in someone...you make them a tape. Well, I make CDs, but that could be because it's 2009 (!!!) now and you met Renee in the 90's. I'm listening to Pavement right now because of you. I always sort of wanted to get into them, and I knew "Slanted and Enchanted" was apparently one of those "canon" albums, one of those albums that all the mainstream music magazines (including your beloved Rolling Stone) tell you you're supposed to love. It's refreshing that you didn't like Pavement. I do, but I can attribute that feeling to other bands (certain Radiohead albums, Pearl Jam, some Nirvana shit, Tool, and so on). I do firmly believe that a mix can save a life, or at least a party.
I'm in college. I'm entering my second semester of my junior year. Your book is reminding me of why I wanted to be a music writer in the first place. But it's not just that, it's reminding me of why I like music in the first place. It's reminding me of why I like to share music I love with other people. It's not just for love, which the first chapter of your book suggests. It's also for a variety of things, which, so far at least, the second chapter of your book suggests. You outline all the different scenarios mix tapes (or CDs) are appropriate. Which is, obviously, in almost every situation a youth can find themselves in. I'm happy you can remember this, despite the fact that we have decades between us. I've made sex mixes, I've made loves mixes, I've made friend mixes. Granted, I've never made a break up mix, but I HAVE made a Sorry We're Not Even Seeing Each Other Right Now But I Still Don't Think This Shit Should Continue mix once. My friend Eliza has done the same. I'm going to lend her this book when I get the chance because I think it might help her a bit.
What I'm trying to say is, thank you for publishing a book that proves how important music is to people. This statement might have Lester Bangs (or at least the Lester Bangs Philip Seymour Hoffman portrays in the film Almost Famous) rolling in his drug filled grave, but I'm not trying to say rock music can save the world. I don't think it will. I can't convince Osama Bin Laden to put on Rage Against the Machine and think about what he's doing, just like I can't convince Dubya to listen to "The Times They Are A-Changing" by Bob Dylan and think about the war he got my country into. But I believe music can not only create connections between people (I've had it happen and I've seen it happen), but I believe music can strengthen connections already made (see the last parenthetical statement I made). So I'm happy you've written this book.
Also, I'm happy you wrote the track listing of each album at the beginning of every chapter. I'm a stickler for shit like that--every mix I make for anyone, I include a track listing complete with artist and song name. Eliza and I bonded my first year of college over the fact that we hate when people don't do this. We'll sit for hours with iTunes open, googling the first line of each song so that we can figure out who it's by and what the name is in order to put it into our respective music libraries. This is important to us, and I'm sure it's important to you. Because if you love a song someone puts on a mix for you, you want to know what the name is (so you can cite it to friends and label it correctly in away messages, duh, and also so you can look up different songs/albums by said artist/band).
My girlfriend is telling me that she understands the different types of mixes the same way I can. She was also just as sad as I was when she finished reading the first chapter. Your book is acting as a mix tape for us, because it's bringing us closer together. I haven't made a mix for her in a while, and I think I will. So thanks for that. That's more important than you'll probably know.
You'll probably never see this letter, and that's okay. Other people will, I hope, and that will compel them, again hopefully, to read your book, or at least ask to borrow it from me. It's really fucking good so far. As is Pavement, which my girlfriend also agrees with me over. Sorry.
Lastly, reading this book makes your physical appearance less important to me. I'm sorry I'm so shallow. If it makes you feel any better, I would have been friends with you before reading this book because I respect your knowledge of music (shit, contributing editor of Rolling Stone?!?!?!?!?!), but now it's even more important that one day we meet and I can shake your hand and thank you.
I'm ending this letter listening to "Loretta's Scars" by Pavement, by the way.
Sincerely yours,
Nikki Wertheim
The first time I saw your face was on some music channel. I think it was VH1's top 40 songs of 2008, but I could be mistaken. I don't think I am. Wherever it was, I thought you were busted-ass ugly.
My father gave me a $300 Simon gift card for Christmas this year. I should be grateful, but I'm not. This is because last year he gave me $500 in cash. If you knew him, you'd understand. Dad shows appreciation through money--that's how he's always been. He sucks, and he's all about power. It's hard to explain, and that isn't want this letter is about. But anyway, the night he gave me the card, I went straight to the Borders around the corner from his house and bought three CDs (Of Montreal's "Skeletal Lampings," Gorillaz's "D-Sides" and an At the Drive-In album whose name currently escapes me, but it has "One Armed Scissor" on it) and two books. The two books are important, because one was "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" by Dave Eggars and "Love is a Mix Tape" by you. I wanted Eggars' book for a while, but yours I found sort of by accident. I'd come across it in the past via amazon.com's fabulous YOU MIGHT LIKE THESE section, and that's why I bought it. My girlfriend Amy tells me she thought of buying it for me when we started dating, but never did. I wish she had.
I'm only about halfway through the second chapter, but I still feel like you're writing my life.
I'm sorry Renee died. But I'm very happy that you understand the importance of mix tapes like I do. I'm happy you do the same thing I do when you're interested in someone...you make them a tape. Well, I make CDs, but that could be because it's 2009 (!!!) now and you met Renee in the 90's. I'm listening to Pavement right now because of you. I always sort of wanted to get into them, and I knew "Slanted and Enchanted" was apparently one of those "canon" albums, one of those albums that all the mainstream music magazines (including your beloved Rolling Stone) tell you you're supposed to love. It's refreshing that you didn't like Pavement. I do, but I can attribute that feeling to other bands (certain Radiohead albums, Pearl Jam, some Nirvana shit, Tool, and so on). I do firmly believe that a mix can save a life, or at least a party.
I'm in college. I'm entering my second semester of my junior year. Your book is reminding me of why I wanted to be a music writer in the first place. But it's not just that, it's reminding me of why I like music in the first place. It's reminding me of why I like to share music I love with other people. It's not just for love, which the first chapter of your book suggests. It's also for a variety of things, which, so far at least, the second chapter of your book suggests. You outline all the different scenarios mix tapes (or CDs) are appropriate. Which is, obviously, in almost every situation a youth can find themselves in. I'm happy you can remember this, despite the fact that we have decades between us. I've made sex mixes, I've made loves mixes, I've made friend mixes. Granted, I've never made a break up mix, but I HAVE made a Sorry We're Not Even Seeing Each Other Right Now But I Still Don't Think This Shit Should Continue mix once. My friend Eliza has done the same. I'm going to lend her this book when I get the chance because I think it might help her a bit.
What I'm trying to say is, thank you for publishing a book that proves how important music is to people. This statement might have Lester Bangs (or at least the Lester Bangs Philip Seymour Hoffman portrays in the film Almost Famous) rolling in his drug filled grave, but I'm not trying to say rock music can save the world. I don't think it will. I can't convince Osama Bin Laden to put on Rage Against the Machine and think about what he's doing, just like I can't convince Dubya to listen to "The Times They Are A-Changing" by Bob Dylan and think about the war he got my country into. But I believe music can not only create connections between people (I've had it happen and I've seen it happen), but I believe music can strengthen connections already made (see the last parenthetical statement I made). So I'm happy you've written this book.
Also, I'm happy you wrote the track listing of each album at the beginning of every chapter. I'm a stickler for shit like that--every mix I make for anyone, I include a track listing complete with artist and song name. Eliza and I bonded my first year of college over the fact that we hate when people don't do this. We'll sit for hours with iTunes open, googling the first line of each song so that we can figure out who it's by and what the name is in order to put it into our respective music libraries. This is important to us, and I'm sure it's important to you. Because if you love a song someone puts on a mix for you, you want to know what the name is (so you can cite it to friends and label it correctly in away messages, duh, and also so you can look up different songs/albums by said artist/band).
My girlfriend is telling me that she understands the different types of mixes the same way I can. She was also just as sad as I was when she finished reading the first chapter. Your book is acting as a mix tape for us, because it's bringing us closer together. I haven't made a mix for her in a while, and I think I will. So thanks for that. That's more important than you'll probably know.
You'll probably never see this letter, and that's okay. Other people will, I hope, and that will compel them, again hopefully, to read your book, or at least ask to borrow it from me. It's really fucking good so far. As is Pavement, which my girlfriend also agrees with me over. Sorry.
Lastly, reading this book makes your physical appearance less important to me. I'm sorry I'm so shallow. If it makes you feel any better, I would have been friends with you before reading this book because I respect your knowledge of music (shit, contributing editor of Rolling Stone?!?!?!?!?!), but now it's even more important that one day we meet and I can shake your hand and thank you.
I'm ending this letter listening to "Loretta's Scars" by Pavement, by the way.
Sincerely yours,
Nikki Wertheim
Friday, December 19, 2008
OMFG IT'S TIME
Yes that's right faithful readers (all none of you), it's that time of year again. It's Top Albums of 2008 time. Fuck yeah.
I came home mid-afternoon from school yesterday and was greeted with the top 50 albums of '08 via Rolling Stone. Surprisingly I wasn't as disappointed as I was last year (but, then again, I still haven't read Spin's list). RS did NOT, as I previously believed, stick Li'l Wayne at number one (though I still expect Spin and/or Blender to, but we'll see). Li'l Wayne ACTUALLY rested at number three, beaten by TV on the Radio's "Dear Science" at #1 and Bob Dylan's "Tell Tale Signs -- The Bootleg Series Vol. 8" at #2. The rest of the top 10 was full of hyped up albums I never bothered to listen to and albums that I don't happen to think are as good as everyone else is saying ("Viva La Vida" by Coldplay and "Modern Guilt" by Beck). Conor Oberst's solo album beat out Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago" by six undeserved spots (#23 and #29 respectively) but I guess when everyone thinks you're a genius you'll get away with more shit, even if you put out something that wasn't worth the harddrive space it took up on my laptop when I illegally downloaded it. Ouch.
Lastly, for SOME reason, and this is the most infuriating part, the Jonas Brothers' album is at fucking #40, beating out Nas' "Untitled," Be Your Own Pet's "Get Awkward," AND No Age's "Nouns." This is some kind of joke. You're going to put another Disney created bullshit bubble-gum pop for the straight 12 year old masses before BYOP in-your-face awesomeness, No Age's guts and grits, AND Nas' phenomenal political/social commentary? Thanks for contributing to the downfall of our society.
Now that I've ripped apart my share of what I didn't like, I'm going to post my list and hopefully an irrefutable rock critic mastermind will find it here and call me a hypocrite, rip MY list apart, and leave me with a broken ego and no desire to ever write again.
10) Nas - "Untitled"
9) The Mars Volta - "The Bedlam in Goliath"
8) Lil Wayne - "The Carter III"
7) No Age - "Nouns"
6) The Hold Steady - "Stay Positive"
5) Jack's Mannequin - "The Glass Passenger"
4) Sigur Ros - "Med Sud I eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust"
3) A Silver Mt. Zion - "13 Blues for Thirteen Moons"
2) Bon Iver - "For Emma, Forever Ago"
1) Death Cab for Cutie - "Narrow Stairs"
I came home mid-afternoon from school yesterday and was greeted with the top 50 albums of '08 via Rolling Stone. Surprisingly I wasn't as disappointed as I was last year (but, then again, I still haven't read Spin's list). RS did NOT, as I previously believed, stick Li'l Wayne at number one (though I still expect Spin and/or Blender to, but we'll see). Li'l Wayne ACTUALLY rested at number three, beaten by TV on the Radio's "Dear Science" at #1 and Bob Dylan's "Tell Tale Signs -- The Bootleg Series Vol. 8" at #2. The rest of the top 10 was full of hyped up albums I never bothered to listen to and albums that I don't happen to think are as good as everyone else is saying ("Viva La Vida" by Coldplay and "Modern Guilt" by Beck). Conor Oberst's solo album beat out Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago" by six undeserved spots (#23 and #29 respectively) but I guess when everyone thinks you're a genius you'll get away with more shit, even if you put out something that wasn't worth the harddrive space it took up on my laptop when I illegally downloaded it. Ouch.
Lastly, for SOME reason, and this is the most infuriating part, the Jonas Brothers' album is at fucking #40, beating out Nas' "Untitled," Be Your Own Pet's "Get Awkward," AND No Age's "Nouns." This is some kind of joke. You're going to put another Disney created bullshit bubble-gum pop for the straight 12 year old masses before BYOP in-your-face awesomeness, No Age's guts and grits, AND Nas' phenomenal political/social commentary? Thanks for contributing to the downfall of our society.
Now that I've ripped apart my share of what I didn't like, I'm going to post my list and hopefully an irrefutable rock critic mastermind will find it here and call me a hypocrite, rip MY list apart, and leave me with a broken ego and no desire to ever write again.
10) Nas - "Untitled"
9) The Mars Volta - "The Bedlam in Goliath"
8) Lil Wayne - "The Carter III"
7) No Age - "Nouns"
6) The Hold Steady - "Stay Positive"
5) Jack's Mannequin - "The Glass Passenger"
4) Sigur Ros - "Med Sud I eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust"
3) A Silver Mt. Zion - "13 Blues for Thirteen Moons"
2) Bon Iver - "For Emma, Forever Ago"
1) Death Cab for Cutie - "Narrow Stairs"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
