#lyrics from motion picture soundtrack by radiohead
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i think you're crazy maybe
#lyrics from motion picture soundtrack by radiohead#drawing inspired by the mention of alex kralie stigmata on the mh s1 commentary#alex kralie fanart#marble hornets fanart#si's doodles#my art#alex kralie#marble hornets#slenderverse#slenderverse fanart
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what sort of music do you listen to? i'm in the mood for something new, and if you're art is anything to go by then i assume you have good taste.
hi - i was thinking about this kind of recently. first of all, i want to say that the art that i make usually does contain lyrics from songs (or is just straight up inspired by them) but yeah.
i haven’t been actually interested in music until ~a year ago, so i still don’t have many artists saved (i try to listen to EVERYTHING by one artist before moving on, instead of just a little) but i can give recommendations/a list. you may have heard a lot of it already (i’d say it’s pretty mainstream) but here
my playlist is comprised mainly from muse, green day, queens of the stone age, and radiohead. if you want song recommendations (of course, i don’t know your music taste, but i can tell you what i would recommend)
^-this one is probably my favourite song (of all time)
^- this one (and the whole album maybe, it’s where i got my blog name from)
^-i found this one back when a lot of the feelings that i’ve talked about on this blog were beginning to intensify. the lyrics remind me of it
-those, and probably a bunch others, but while im here i want to list some songs that remind me specifically of “creature-ness”
-i hit the audio limit for this post. i could lists a lot more sorry if this is a large/long post or anything, it’s just a topic that i don’t usually have a chance to share much about so im glad you asked. anyway yeah
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“red wine and sleeping pills, help me get back to tour arms. cheap sex and sad films, help me get where i belong.”
explicitly strong. i don’t know how red wine taste like but i would refer it as a way to cope with your pain. sleeping pills helps you to sleep. duh obviously. cheap sex and sad films, later remind you that you’re worthless and just another waste of humanity.
this is a quotation from the song “motion picture soundtrack” by radiohead. it’s a song where the melodies are beautiful and the lyrics just hit so hard and so different from other love songs. i kept replaying and reciting the same thing about this song. im sorry
but this song helped me to cope with anything i have in mind. thank you thom yorke for such a beautiful song. fyi, this song is written right after the huge song “creep” was written. “creep” is a song where you’re insecure about yourself and your crush wouldn’t notice you cause you’re just a loser. “motion picture soundtrack” is about when u realize that you could never change the fact that you are you and those insecurities aren’t changeable.
good night. sorry for yapping.
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Radiohead, "Creep" (Live in Oxford, 2001)
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As a band, Radiohead has always been legible. They tell you how to think about them: what their story is, what their music means. And if you were a Radiohead fan in the 90's, you knew they hated their first hit, "Creep." You knew this because they told you, but also because they made a series of albums that were aggressively the opposite of "Creep"'s anglo-grunge angst; because tour documentary Meeting People is Easy made clear their disgust with the kind of mindless fame a song like "Creep" engendered. "I want to have control," Thom had sung in the song, and now they were taking control of their narrative. They wanted to be smart, and "Creep" was not smart.
The problem was, if you were a Radiohead fan in the 90's, you yourself probably loved "Creep." When I first heard the song, I was just the kind of teen to feel that crunchy angst deep in my soul, and even as I went to college and wanted to seem smart and do smart things myself (OK Computer, Kid A, and Amnesiac are all very "I went to college" sort of albums), every moment of "Creep," from its chiming beginning to its jet-takeoff chorus to its transparent self-loathing, was a blast. My gross teenage soul felt seen. And anyway, wasn't Radiohead's rejection of the song exactly the kind of self-loathing that "Creep" itself had managed to capture so perfectly? I was a creep, I was a weirdo; what the hell were we doing there? Let's not do that again, guys. Come on.
After college, I spent a lot of time online arguing with past versions of myself. I was embarrassed about the college-age Radiohead superfan who'd spent hours decoding the band's inscrutable website updates, convinced that they contained some galaxy-brain higher message, some greater masterpiece. When In Rainbows came out, given away at the band's website for whatever you wished to pay, the fan narrative became that Radiohead had boldly pioneered a new economic model that would save the music industry. But by that point, I'd become knowledgeable enough about both music and the music industry that I could smugly point out to you the many ways in which that was wrong. (And, even today, I can do a solid 7 minutes on how In Rainbows devalued digital music.) I didn't listen to the album for years, even though, when I did, I liked it well enough. Your old self can get in your head, can become a region on your internal map filled with sea dragons and smoke. Don't go here.
When you're in your 40's, like I am now, you can't just react to your last identity; you have too many to choose from. It's easier to look back with regret on the many old selves you've lost than to boldly forge a new identity opposed to your last one. I was a writer for a couple decades, then got a professional job that didn't allow me to write. Since leaving it, I've been trying to put my writer-self back together, but in assembling my last bio, I noted that many of my publications were in outlets that no longer exist. It's easy to fall into regret; to feel illegible, your self-perception out of sync with how others see you. You can't afford these arguments with your past self anymore. You have to find a way to embrace them.
In 2001, after releasing Amnesiac, Radiohead played a triumphant homecoming gig in Oxford, where they'd all met at university. (Like I said: a very "I went to college" band.) At that point, they hadn't played "Creep" in four years, even as they'd put out two confirmed masterpieces, and all signs pointed to them never playing the song again. They weren't planning on playing it that day, either. At the end of their final encore, they began to play "Motion Picture Soundtrack," the bleak love song that closes "Kid A." It was written around the same time as "Creep," but where "Creep" is easily legible, guitars and lyrics united in message, "MPS" pushes against itself, a cozy organ contrasting harshly with Thom Yorke's declaration that he'll never be with the object of his desire, and will only "see you in the next life." But the crowd wouldn't hear MPS that day. The band flubbed the intro, and instead of starting again, Thom says, "Okay, I've got a better idea. This is a slightly older song."
As the first note of "Creep" hits, a sound erupts from the crowd: not just a cheer, not just a scream, but the clearest expression of release I've ever heard. It is a true surprise, a fulfillment of their heart's desire; one diehard Radiohead fans never expected to happen, or at least not that day. They sing along to every word. And the band shows no signs of the embarrassment they'd felt so strongly for the song since releasing OK Computer. Jonny launches into the first roaring chord of the chorus audibly out of tune, and you can hear a moment of hesitancy, the old embarrassment threatening to creep in, before he gives in to the song's pull. Thom sings it with a gleeful lightness. It's a reunion, a band realizing, in a flash, that they've had enough distance from their past self to love them again. You need that distance, need to see your earlier selves were right, or at least not wrong; not smart, maybe, but maybe smart isn't what really matters. Maybe what really matters isn't being smart or right but that feeling, that release, the crowd and the band together, in perfect purpose, deciding to love the sound itself and its adored history rather than the barren meaning of the words. The explicit legibility slips away into something richer and more complex, and together, they find joy in having made it far enough from that angst to view it with affection.
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thanks for tagging me!!!
Relationship status: single lmao
Song Stuck in my head: Vienna by The Fray
Last song I listened to: Motion Picture Soundtrack by Radiohead (im fine guys i swear ignore the lyrics)
Three favorite foods: fideo soup (loml for real), pizza (i am boring!), banana cream pie (i just had some since my dad got it for fathers day and that shit slaps) also know that these are subject to change and as a side bonus the tortilla soup from this one place in particular is rlly good
Last thing I searched: nanowrimo (cue that boss music going to do camp nano and maybe rope other people into suffering with me)
Dream trip: pacific northwest but like to live in im so serious take me away from here and my poorly air conditioned room.
tags: idk i never tag anyone atp since my mutuals all tag each other and tag me so yeah also im tired <3 join if you want
Tag ten people you wanna get to know better!
was tagged by lovely @legitcookie thank you dear!!
relationship status: singleee
song stuck in my head: Billy Joel's Zanzibar, ugh it's just too good!!
last song I listened to: Lysander by Heaters
three favourite foods: Ohhh that's a hard one. I'd have to say gnocchi with mushroom sauce is one, then we have... I mean watermelon is a classic (and its super hot here so I'm CRAVINGGG) and to top it all of we have... crepes with ice cream (can you tell I just want something cold to eat at the moment?? ahahaha)
last thing I googled: "fred melamed height" don't even ask hbjsdkhfb
dream trip: Paris, it's a cliche, BUT travelling to Paris by train with my friends and then going to London to meet up with some of my wonderful English buds sounds just SO fun! Plus... pretty artwork and castles in Paris.
anything I want right now: to not be so hot kfhosnfs
Tagging my lovelies!! No pressure!
@hellsfireclub @fluorescent-star-stickers @hellmo @idyllghost @pzyii @haaawaiianshirt @the-fire-might-be-shooting-at-us @strangertheories @yourpigeonwife @lionydoorin <333
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Radiohead Retrospective Part 4: We’ve got heads on sticks
Your name is Thom Yorke. You’ve just released what is considered one of the best albums of the 90s, if not of all time, and you’ve achieved a level of fame that at least one band member considers akin to the Beatles. Through the release of OK Computer, you’ve proven that even if people are pretty much over Oasis at this point, British rock bands still rule the airwaves. You’re also stressed the fuck out over just about all of this, and having a very hard time accustoming to the life of a celebrity- let alone the usual mental health issues.
What will you do?
Apparently, the answer was to write the fourth album to be as far away from the previous few as possible, seeking influence from IDM groups like Aphex Twin, jazz stuff, and just some bizarro instruments and experimentation and leaving a lot of the “rock” stuff behind. The primary genre listed for Kid A is usually Electronica or Ambient, with various off-kilter rock subgenres lagging behind, crying “you’re still gonna do guitars and stuff, right?”
Well…not as much anymore. But this era of Radiohead, this career-suicidal swerve, still proved monumentally successful, and showed that the band still had it, and that sometimes artistic risks do pay dividends.
A side note: I usually link music videos for the tracks I discuss as part of each post, as you’ll have seen in previous parts of this series. Kid A, however, doesn’t have any singles, and it sure doesn’t have any music videos. So…maybe just listen yourself. I’m probably in over my head here anyway.
I think the first 5 notes of Everything In Its Right Place are some of the most iconic in all of music.
Some personal background- Kid A was the first Radiohead I ever listened to. A particular cool and good mate of mine was a fan in high school, but I’d never listened to them at all, and I trusted his opinion musically, so I went to buy one of their CDs the next time I was at the shop. And for whatever reason, the cheapest one was Kid A at 10 bucks, and I didn’t want to gamble more than that, so that’s the one I got.
So the opening notes of Everything In Its Right Place were the first Radiohead I ever heard. And considering how much I obsessed over this band, in high school and beyond, it’s no surprise that this song is one of my favourites.
Not only did this song introduce me to Radiohead, it was effectively a gateway track for electronic music in general. This was the early 10s, and the majority of what I knew as electronic stuff was the EDM that was drowning the airwaves at the time. I hated that stuff out of principle, because being a hipster like that was definitely a personality. I don’t think I would ever have gotten into Vaporwave, into IDM, or into any electronic music the way I eventually would were it not for Everything In Its Right Place.
Now that I’ve spent 250 words talking about myself and not the actual song, we should probably stop that. Everything In Its Right Place is defined by this steady build of layering vocals and effects onto the relatively calm synth line, distorted vocals and word salad lyrics and manipulated noises growing and getting more chaotic before it just stops- the vocals fade out, the effects drop, and you’re left with the synth line- except it’s been slowly changing itself the whole time, and you don’t realise because you’ve been distracted by everything else at the same time.
It’s worth noting (and I don’t know if this was the case with OK Computer, because I don’t have an original copy of that one) that this was an album without liner notes, without the lyrics in the cover booklet. But at least in this case, the lyrics don’t matter as much as the v i b e. At least, that’s what I think.
On the topic of unintelligible lyrics, Kid A has a title track! I believe literally two Radiohead albums do this, the other being The Bends (though Hail to the Thief and In Rainbows do appear as lyrics). The song itself is an ambient, quiet piece that feels something like a twisted nursery tune- incredibly affected vocals, a syncopated (?) percussion, and a synth (I think???) that…I don’t know how to describe it, but it feels nursery-rhyme-y. If you’ve heard this song a few times, or you know what to listen for, you can piece together the lyrics somewhat- and they are, frankly, kind of unsettling. What is standing in the shadows at the end of your bed, can it please leave? And imagery of the Pied Piper is always either extremely silly or extremely unnerving, with this clearly leaning towards the latter. There’s a lot going on here- especially for a track most probably wouldn’t listen to outside the context of the full album. I know I generally don’t- not the kind of thing I generally am in the mood for.
We’re at 850+ words, and we’re only up to The National Anthem? Fuuuuck. Well, anyone who wasn’t on board the IDM train can at least appreciate this one more, it’s got an actual bassline. A killer one, at that, that drives the whole track. Well, you know, that and the B R A S S. Seriously, it sounds like they invited a marching band to this bad boy. The combination ends up sounding mostly like controlled chaos, a jazz band traffic jam wound together by that B A S S. But the bass can’t hold it forever, and eventually that shit breaks free and just, it just honks all over the place.
I’m frustratingly running out of things to say about this song I really like, as opposed to the other songs I really liked. Unfortunately, ya boi forgot to take his neurotypicalification pills today, and so I’m getting very distracted. Hopefully, that slightly unhinged nature suits the album somewhat.
The next song, How To Disappear Completely, is a Big Mood with a fun story attached. The main lyrics- I’m not here, this isn’t happening- were allegedly something none other than Michael Stipe from R.E.M. told Thom to help him deal with that massive stage fright that came with Getting Big. Fun trivia aside, this song is gorgeous, luscious with massive strings, an acoustic bend, aethereal vocals, and a background drone running through the thing that makes sure your hair is always a little on end through the thing. It’s a song whose lyrics are an attempt to escape anxiety, whose instrumentation serves more to reinforce it- a calm, melodic piece that builds into nervous swells and threatening strings. A song about fighting your fear, and losing.
Fuck me it’s a bit depressing isn’t it. It’s potentially the most emotionally revealing song the album has- a lot of the lyricism on other tracks is more metaphorical, or subtle, but the meaning in How To Disappear Completely is evident even just from the title. You get lost in the strings and they go from calming, to imposing, to downright menacing (and then back again) in the song’s final minute.
Treefingers, on the other hand, has a lot less to say, and by that I mean it’s an instrumental. A very atmospheric, ambient one, and thereby one I don’t have a lot to say about. I’m not sure I’m particularly good at commenting on regular music, but this kinda thing is a whole different animal. I have no idea how to interact with discussing this. I like it? I will say, that one note right at the end, that echoes for a bit, the one piece of clarity in this muddled, reverbed sphere, feels especially poignant, for reasons I cannot describe.
We go from ambient instrumental to arguable the most rock-song-like track on this album, Optimistic, certified banger that it is. Some might argue that it doesn’t fit here, but like, did they even hear the lyrics? The bridge? It more that deserves its place on one of the best albums around. The little way the guitar scales up during the chorus is excellent, the proggy drums and riffs are glorious, it’s just a very good rock song.
Also this is the first song with the lyric “dinosaurs roaming the earth”, which, aside from being a bit of a non-sequitur, would return two albums later. And I’m really looking forward to that one.
In Limbo is a song I kind of always forget exists until I hear it again. It’s antimemetic, the way the song goes slipping from my mind until I hear those opening notes again. I’m going to be honest, it’s probably because it’s also the most mid song on the album. Far from bad, but it isn’t doing anything that How to Disappear Completely or Optimistic aren’t doing better. If I had to remove any track from this album, it might be this one?
Watch me get fucking lynched from the fandom for that one, if I ever post this to r/Radiohead or whatever. Which I might, though as much as I’d like more people to read my things I’m also extremely anxious about the potential response. Like the album I’m discussing today, I’m terrified of fame.
Incidentally, In Limbo is also the shortest track on the album (Treefingers beats it by 11 seconds), though this isn’t initially obvious online at least, because people keep messing with Motion Picture Soundtrack. But we’re not there yet, hang on.
We go from the forgettable (to me) In Limbo to the utterly mesmerizing Idioteque. Anxious but danceable, confusing but emotive, messy but tightly controlled. I love this fucking song to death. The reason I got the particular Radiohead poster that I did was because it has lyrics from this on it.
I’ve heard that lyrics for this album were largely pulled from a hat, and nowhere is that more clear than here (or maybe Everything In Its Right Place). Despite this, there’s a pretty clear theme in them, a continuation of some of the themes of this and the last albums. A condemnation of wealth and cowardice in the face of ecological disaster. In the form of an apocalypse disco.
What a lot of people don’t know about this track is that it actually samples an extremely old electronic music piece- one written in 1973, on a particularly old computer. The track, mild und leise, is a very interesting track considering its age- I’m reminded of Selected Ambient Works by Aphex Twin- not so much musically, but about how that reason was as influential as it was because it was the first time songs had sounded like that, because it was the first time songs could sound like that- I suppose it’s somewhat similar in that way, if older. These pieces and their composers inexorably linked by the allure of technology, and how that could be used to define new eras in music history- in Radiohead’s case, it certainly defined the next few albums in their lifespan.
Jesus mild und leise is long, it’s still going as I write this. I need to get back to Kid A, man!
Idioteque leads directly into Morning Bell, admittedly another less memorable song. Largely percussion lead, plenty of falsetto, and with a very unsubtle theme if you listen to the lyrics. I recall seeing someone saying that “cut the kids in half” was a really surprising and spooky line, and, yeah, sure, it sort of is, but it’s only particularly bad if you don’t pay attention for the rest of it. It’s about divorce, dude, it’s not subtle.
Or apparently not, according to one interview, but Thom said the interpretation isn’t invalid, so haha still winning baybeeeee.
I think the only part of this I really can’t do without is the outro, because the last minute and a half of this song is really cool. The mumbled lyrics go really well with the rising percussion and eerie effects that end the track.
Our final song is Motion Picture Soundtrack, or, Exit Music (for Walt Disney’s Depression Nap). This and Street Spirit I think are what really cement Radiohead’s reputation for brutal closers, both of them being tragic but hauntingly beautiful in different ways. In this case, it’s the instrumentation- glittering harps attempting the echo 50s Disney. There’s actually a version of this song from the OK Computer era with extremely different instrumentation, piano rather than organ, and no harps (and a third verse that is utterly brutal). Regardless, this is the song they chose to close the apocalypse that Kid A is on- the final lyric being “I will see you in the next life”, as the glittering echoes into the night. Poignant and tragic, but a little hopeful- the next life hopefully won’t have the struggles and pain of this one.
And then, of course, there’s the hidden track. Nicknamed Genchildren by some (that’s just the username of the dude who uploaded it to Napster back in the day), officially known as Untitled, and the true closer to the album. With Spotify slapping it right at the end of Motion Picture Soundtrack, it’s not clear the true nature of this song- it’s actually hidden on the original album, after several minutes of silence, just long enough that you’ve forgotten you left the player running (or you’re still crying from Motion Picture Soundtrack). I don’t think there’s a real word for what this sounds like other than heavenly, and incredibly brief piece I’ve heard compared to the pearly gates. After all, if we end on “I will see you in the next life”, then what can this be but that?
Thus closes Kid A, a gorgeous and powerful album, yet an insane swerve for any rock band to pull, not just Radiohead. A bold strategy, and yet it paid off for them- Kid A would not only be massively influential, it was also massively successful both critically and commercially- but not to the standard of OK Computer before it. But they obviously weren’t trying to do OK Computer part 2, just as that album was deliberately not The Bends part 2.
Kid A would pretty much get a Part 2, though, less than a year later. And it’s that album we’ll be discussing next week, obviously. Until then.
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kit’s radiohead album ranking
1: Hail to the Thief Easily best opening of any of their albums. Just insanely good. I'd never heard the majority of this album and three songs in I was like "is this their best? This kinda seems like it's their best." Sail To The Moon is heart-stoppingly beautiful and spooky. It's hard for me to point to individual tracks when the whole album really blows me away. There, There is awesome. A Wolf At the Door isn't the greatest ending, just feels like another good song on a good album. But whatever this is definitely the most all-around solid one.
2: OK Computer you've got your long-form radio-friendly bops (Paranoid Android, Karma Police, Lucky) your driving-in-a-rainstorm-whilst-sobbing-soundtrack ones (Let Down, No Surprises, Exit Music), your one musique concrete throwaway for the weirdos (Fitter Happier), an early orchestral experiment (Climbing Up the Walls), and some sweet upbeat slightly heavy guitar hero shit (Electioneering), topped off by an underwhelming opener and a perfectly whelming closer.
3: Kid A This is where the vowel synths and abstract lyricism come out in force and it works! It's a harder album to rock out to, but it's interesting and fun and worthy of exploration in a way their earlier stuff sometimes isn't. After their second-best opener, the title track is sort of pointless, but then the album breaks into the propulsive acid-jazzy The National Anthem, an instrumental that is remarkably welcome. It's not even the only instrumental on an 11-track album. Optimistic is great, Idioteque is fun, Motion Picture Soundtrack is a predictably grand and cinematic end with its little ethereal untitled outro.
4: Amnesiac TBH i'd basically only heard Pyramid Song off this album. Starts with a familiar chord progression and beat given intrigue by some freaky synth stuff. Not what I would've opened an album with but it's fine. Then Pyramid Song, which feels like a closer to me. One of their best arrangements. You and Whose Army is like, a dude being sad underwater for two minutes before breaking out into a pretty good song. And right afterward comes I Might Be Wrong, which is basically southern rock. That's just the first half. What a weird album. The middle gets a little aimless and despite correctly predicting the title of a 2019 Rian Johnson film, I'm deducting some points for all the songs where they had whoever play the same bassline for like 5 minutes. This isn't jazz and if it was it would be boring jazz. The last two tracks don't really deviate from this but they're kind of fun. This is like Radiohead's Nightmare Showtunes Album.
5: In Rainbows Inhabits its own world of odd time signatures and gentle funk. Leans closer to the familiar than their last few, but I think it was a good decision at the time. Weird Fishes is remarkably beautiful. Some tracks (like All I Need) don't feel that necessary, and others (like Reckoner) feel close to greatness. That they gave this one away for free makes its presence in my heart all the warmer.
6: A Moon Shaped Pool Daydreaming is one of their best. A lot of stuff I find kind of unremarkable here, though. You'd think I'd love a song called Identikit, but nah. Nothing else really strikes me until Present Tense, which is pretty. I think we deserve more from an album almost entirely made up of >4 minute songs. True Love Waits is a nice closer though. Which while making this list i learned is super rare
7: The Bends This (along with In Rainbows) used to be my favorite and I think that embarrasses me a little now. It's pretty bad. Lotta decent '90s rock that really isn't my style anymore (High and Dry, My Iron Lung although the end is fun) and just sorta weepy We Live In A Society stuff (Fake Plastic Trees, The Bends). Street Spirit is a classic, it's one of the first songs I learned on guitar, but as a whole this album isn't that well written. It feels indulgent, and not in the fun way.
8: The King of Limbs I remember hearing this and thinking "oh, that's where all that freaky jittery energy went after In Rainbows." It's actually less interesting to my ear. Maybe they thought "did we play it too safe on that last one? Let's make something less pleasant" and then they did but they forgot to include enough bloopy ear candy or hidden surfacing little hooks to make it memorable. Lotus Flower is okay but the whole thing is kind of a slog.
9: Pablo Honey ass. You, Creep, and Blow Out are decent. i didnt actually bother to listen to the last third so @ me if i missed something but yeah this album is not good
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2018, A Year in Music
A year would not be complete without a list summarizing the sonic triumphs and escapades it saw birthed. Here are my thirty favorite albums from 2018. Enjoy.
30. Kurt Vile - Bottle It In
The singer-songwriter returned in 2018 with a follow up to his 2017 collaboration with Aussie rocker, Courtney Barnett. While I enjoyed Lotta Sea Lice plenty, I found its overarching themes to be a bit dry and the songwriting to be a bit lackluster from two experts such as Barnett and Vile. But Bottle It In is a return to form for the unique Vile. His drawl-y, laid back, groovy guitar cuts and folk-rooted storytelling is potent as ever. A truly beautiful entry into the artist’s discography, Bottle It In is a must-listen for any fan of folk rock and silky smooth songwriting.
Genre: Folk rock / singer-songwriter
Standouts: “Loading Zones,” “Yeah Bones,” “One Trick Ponies”
29. Neko Case - Hell-On
Neko Case’s storied career as an artist finds itself here, with 2018′s Hell-On. The album is a reflection on all that Case has experienced thus far, and its delivery is both introspective and cinematic. There are songs here that feel like a stream of consciousness, and others are a bit more straight forward. Still, it demands the attention of the listener, for there are things to pick up on with each listen. What Case, and Hell-On, deliver on the most is catchy and fun ballads that have run through my head like an infectious earworm since its release. “Last Lion of Albion,” “Bad Luck,” and “Curse of the I-5 Corridor,” are standouts in particular.
Genre: Singer-songwriter / folk pop / country pop
Standouts: “Last Lion of Albion,” “Bad Luck,” “Curse of the I-5 Corridor”
28. Car Seat Headrest - Twin Fantasy
I was, admittedly, not the biggest fan of Will Toledo and his project Car Seat Headrest when I first listened to Teens of Denial. I found his songwriting to be a bit uni-dimensional at times, and the sonic palette to a bit bland. But after re-visiting his works repeatedly, I’ve become a bigger stan of Toledo’s. It’s undeniable that his knack for melodies is unrivaled. And I’ve come to appreciate his songwriting more and more with each successive listen. His re-release of the cult Bandcamp hit, Twin Fantasy, is a true success though. The refurbished instrumentation and production is a welcome facelift to this Bandcamp classic. And the bodacious and bright new mixing brings new life into Toledo’s work. The support he has received from Matador Records has resulted in an improvement on all fronts, from the record’s origins. It’s a beautiful, and perhaps nostalgic for some, release from Will.
Genre: Indie rock / singer-songwriter
Standouts: “Bodys,” “Stop Smoking (We Love You),” “Sober to Death”
27. Vince Staples - FM!
It was released on 2 November 2018 but it feels like something straight out of the humid heat of July. Another entry into the short and succinct album list of 2018, FM! is short-lived at only 22 minutes. But the album has plenty to offer. Seamlessly flowing from track to track, Vince’s latest endeavor plays out more like a in-studio performance for a radio show (as can be heard by the short radio-esque skits played as outros and intros). The songs are braggadocious. Vince raps over silky smooth west coast hip-hop-inspired beats and punches with flows to match.
Genre: West coast hip-hop
Standouts: “Feels Like Summer,” “Outside!” “Don’t Get Chipped,” “FUN!”
26. Florence + the Machine - High As Hope
Florence Welch is a symbol of freedom for me. Her unrivaled passion for her craft, her presence on the stage evokes images of royalty, and her unimpeachable strength make her one of my favorite vocalists of all time. Her voice fills rooms, stadiums, and the ears of millions. A perfect example of this potency is 2015′s How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful; an album that was cinematic, wide in scope and sound, and an important leap for Florence’s artistic career. But this year’s High As Hope is much more intimate. One could even call it a step backwards for Florence, but I would respectfully disagree with this statement. For me, High As Hope is a logical step forward for Florence. Following a loud and explosive release in 2015, a cathartic climax I’m sure, it makes sense to hear Florence make her descent down an intimate and minimal road. And down this road we see Florence explore and make available her struggles with loneliness, depression, and a myriad of other demons. She trades the titanic orchestral sets for pianos, sparse percussion, and cuts through these thin veils with her meteoric voice. But at the end of the day (and the record), there is an air of hope. Hope drives this record, and it’s what drives Florence, and that is more than enough for me.
Genre: Chamber pop / art pop
Standouts: “Sky Full Of Song,” “Hunger,” “June,” “No Choir”
25. Mount Eerie - Now Only
Phil Elverum has endured more than one can even begin to dream of. 2017 saw Elverum face the loss of his wife, it saw him begin to face single fatherhood. From that turmoil came A Crow Looked At Me, a beautifully tragic album that gave us a close up look at Elverum’s grief and loss. That album was succinct, precise, and to the point. Now Only is much more a stream of consciousness, a rambling of sorts, and it plays out much like Elverum is writing an epilogue to A Crow in real time. The song structures are varied, and some draw on into the ten minute range. It takes effort to really let this album sink in and marinate, and once it does it pays dividends.
Genre: Singer-songwriter / indie folk
Standouts: “Tintin in Tibet,” “Distortion,” “Crow, Pt. 2″
24. U.S. Girls - In a Poem Unlimited
In a Poem Unlimited is a beautiful art pop record, filled with enveloping and gorgeous layers of instrumentation. It’s refined, it’s sharp, and its sound is unlike anything this year has seen. Art pop, folk pop, disco, soul, synth pop, and baroque pop are all genres that blend together and come through in U.S. Girl’s most refined piece yet. And if there’s anything that sticks out especially, it’s the record’s production. It is just so polished. Of course Meghan’s vocals are as cutting as ever, but it is the record’s beautiful construction that keeps me coming back to this one. Songs like “Velvet 4 Sale,” and “L-Over” are particular highlights for me. I recommend this to anyone who wants a diverse sounding record, or a record to just fall into.
Genre: Art pop / synth pop / psych pop
Standouts: “Velvet 4 Sale,” “Rosebud,” “L-Over,” “M.A.H.”
23. Jonny Greenwood - You Were Never Really Here (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
Radiohead lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood first grabbed my attention, when it came to his work aside from Radiohead, with his score for Paul Thomas Anderson’s Phantom Thread last year. Gorgeous string arrangements and orchestral builds are swapped out for synthesizers and heavy percussive elements on this latest soundscape however. And while I loved Greenwood’s work with PTA, this latest project sees Greenwood using these tools expertly. His soundtrack is one of the best of this year, and it adds to the immersive world that Lynne Ramsay built in You Were Never Really Here. Dissonant and sharp guitars, thunderous and warping synths pierce your ears and create a sense of unease, matched when experienced while watching the film. And while some scores and/or soundtracks fail to stand on their own without their cinematic partners, Greenwood’s work here is more than enough on its own.
Genre: Film soundtrack / experimental
Standouts: “Tree Synthesizers,” “Sandy’s Necklace,” “Dark Streets (Reprise)”
22. Kali Uchis - Isolation
Colombian soul singer Kali Uchis made her full-length debut this year with Isolation. A diverse roster came together to collaborate on this project; the likes of Steve Lacy, Boosty Collins, Damon Albarn, Thundercat, and Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker appear on this record in some shape or form, and those are but a few to name. This amalgamation of artists and minds makes for a sonically diverse record, one that spans genres and emotions. And through it all Kali Uchis shines through as an up-and-coming talent. Still, there is plenty of room to grow, as the lyricism and songwriting on some tracks falls a bit flatter than others. But overall this record is so unique it stands above its contemporaries.
Genre: Neo-soul / contemporary R&B
Standouts: “Just A Stranger,” “In My Dreams,” “Feel Like A Fool”
21. Sons of Kemet - Your Queen Is a Reptile
London jazz unit, Sons of Kemet, delivered a revolutionary jazz record this year. Politically-fueled, unapologetically cultural, it is based in African music and African history yet brimming with ingenuity. Thunderous horns, bombastic drums and chaotic wind sections grow and pulse through this record. Broken up are these progressions by spoken word passages, which add depth and prose to the record. Your Queen Is a Reptile is surely a classic, and a definite listen for any jazz enthusiast.
Genre: Afro-jazz
Standouts: “My Queen Is Ada Eastman,” “My Queen Is Harriet Tubman,” “My Queen Is Angela Davis”
20. MGMT - Little Dark Age
Perhaps best known for their indie breakout hit Oracular Spectacular, with late-2000s anthems like “Kids,” “Time To Pretend,” and “Electric Feel,” MGMT was considered by some destined to fail to meet their success of 2007. Little Dark Age dispels these notions, with dark and gloomy pop cuts as well as a purposefully occult themes. MGMT never wanted to make mainstream pop music, and released Oracular Spectacular as an odd protest to such desires observed in their fans. This devotion to the subversions of mainstream pop followed them through their discography post-Oracular, but hits its peak here with Little Dark Age.
Genre: Gothic pop / synth pop / psych pop
Standouts: “Little Dark Age,” “When You Die,” “Me and Michael,” “She Works Out Too Much”
19. Adrianne Lenker - Abysskiss
Big Thief’s frontwoman, Adrianne Lenker, adds to her solo career with Abysskiss. Recorded within the approximate span of a week, the record has an air of urgency but is patient in its delivery. Lenker is reserved, yet determined in her delivery. The album is much like tramping on a trail or wandering through a city unknown. It winds, it hypnotizes. I found myself ensnared by Lenker’s finger-picking and her hauntingly beautiful voice. Fans of Big Thief will love this solo effort by Lenker, and I hope many others can find and appreciate its beauty in minimalism.
Genre: Folk / singer-songwriter
Standouts: “terminal paradise,” “womb,” “cradle”
18. Young Fathers - Cocoa Sugar
Scottish trio Young Fathers came out swinging with Cocoa Sugar. Blending a multitude of genres, Young Fathers have released their sharpest record to date. Its inclusion of neo-soul, conscious hip-hop, gospel, electronica, and R&B make for a sonic experience rivaled by few. The album builds and builds this chaotic wall of sound, finally reaching its release with tracks like “In My View,” and “Lord.” But the album is a engaging listen throughout.
Genre: Indietronica / neo-soul / art pop / experimental hip-hop / gospel
Standouts: “Fee Fi,” “In My View,” “Lord,” “Border Girl”
17. JPEGMAFIA - Veteran
DAMN PEGGY! 19 tracks. 47 minutes. This album slaps. Baltimore rapper/producer, JPEGMAFIA, has come out with one of the most experimental and abrasive rap albums of the century. Using sounds unnatural and inorganic to human ears, Peggy is creating songs unlike any of his contemporaries. It is difficult to put into words just how experimental and “out there” this album is. His songwriting is excellently woven into these instrumentals and samples, making for catchy cuts and oddly comedic one-liners. There is a real texture to these songs, and the dynamic swells of sound make for a transcendent and mind-numbing experience. Veteran isn’t just one of the most creative rap albums I’ve ever heard, it’s perhaps one of the best rap albums I’ve ever heard.
Genre: Experimental hip-hop
Standouts: “1539 N. Calvert,” “Thug Tears,” “Baby I’m Bleeding
16. Jon Hopkins - Singularity
In the same realm of immersive listens, I don’t think there is one album this year that can reach the same heights (both literally and figuratively) as Singularity. This album feels like the genesis of a brand new world, like the exploration of the unknown reaches past our galaxy. It’s an odyssey of sound, an insurmountable summit of synthesizers, strings, percussion and much, much more. The album opens with the title track, “Singularity,” which sets the stage for what the album is meant to accomplish. The winding synths and electric drum beats create an atmosphere similar to the cold and unforgiving nature of space. Seamlessly, the album bursts into the song “Emerald Rush,” which slows things down at first, allows the listener to breath and grab hold of their whereabouts. But this feeling of ease and calm is sliced by the thunderous and monolithic bass-heavy bursts at around the 1:33 mark. From there on out the song becomes a tribal experience. The drum beats creating an almost religious evocation, of a religion foreign to Earth. “Neon Pattern Drum,” continues this ethereal theme and the song is a sonic representation of its title. Once again, tribal synths and drums entrap the listener, banishing them to a realm of neon and galactic enterprise. Jon Hopkins has created something truly special with Singularity. Its atmosphere and reach are indescribable.
Genre: Ambient / tech house / IDM
Standouts: “Singularity,” “Emerald Rush,” “Neon Pattern Drum,” “Feel First Life,” “C O S M”
15. Julia Holter - Aviary
While JPEGMAFIA may have released the most experimental hip-hop album of 2018, I firmly believe that Julia Holter released the most experimental and dense album of 2018. Emphasis on “dense.” Let me repeat. This. Album. Is. Dense. Blending more genres than I can even think of, Aviary is layered and complex. Much like a tasting menu at a prestigious restaurant, Holter’s work demands patience and attention. But if you put in the time - for Pete’s sake this album is an hour and 30 minutes long - you will be rewarded. Holter crafts a universe of her own, and only she knows (or maybe doesn’t) how to traverse it, we are but left to helplessly follow in the hopes of finding our eventual way. And that’s what makes this album one of this year’s best. Julia doesn’t compromise here, and has the courage to craft an expansive and broad experience. In a year where succinct and short albums seemed to grab hold (e.g. Be the Cowboy), Aviary separates itself as a cacophonous cloud of grand and classical influences. Holter’s talents as a composer and multi-instrumentalist are present throughout the journey as well; she’s able to create a scape of her own, but one that reminds me of a futuristic world, one akin to that of the world of Blade Runner. The mixing draws up sour string arrangements and heavenly synths, her howling voice and earth-shattering basslines to great effect. She even sings in multiple languages, including: English, French and Latin. It’s mysterious. It’s frustrating. It’s painfully poetic. It’s a juggernaut of an album. But it is unapologetically beautiful in its own right.
Genre: Idk... to many (art pop / classical / avante garde)
Standouts: “I Shall Love 2,” “Colligere,” “Les Jeux to You,” “Words I Heard”
14. Big Red Machine - Big Red Machine
The works of Justin Vernon and Aaron Dessner are enough draw the attention of many indieheads. From Vernon’s ventures as Bon Iver and Volcano Choir, and Dessner being a member of the acclaimed rock outfit, The National, there are enough accolades between the two of them that any sort of joining of forces would result in a sure fire classic. And that’s exactly what Big Red Machine is, in the most un-classic way possible. Songs from the record have been floating around the Internet for some time now, with Vernon and Dessner playing some songs live at festivals like Eaux Claires. But it wasn’t until this year we formally received notice that a record would be surfacing. The self-titled debut is much more akin to the sound of 22, A Million or Sleep Well Beast. Fans of traditional National, or older Bon Iver, may be disappointed to find the album relies on synths and motherboards instead of solely guitars, drum and bass. But behind all of the bleeps and bloops are notes of the artists’ original sounds. “I Won’t Run From It,” sound like it could have appeared on Bon Iver, Bon Iver, and “Forest Green,” could have easily been on High Violet if Vernon’s vocals were traded in for Berninger’s. Big Red Machine is a leap forward for the two artists, and it marks a pivotal point in their careers, one should not miss out on this project.
Genre: Folktronica / indie rock
Standouts: “Forest Green,” “I Won’t Run From It,” “Hymnostic”
13. St. Vincent - MassEducation
A complete re-imagining of her own Masseduction, Anne Clark is always at the forefront of the music sphere. She’s an elite guitarist, a visionary songwriter, and a fashion icon on top of all that. To re-record, re-imagine, and re-produce your own album is already a bold task, but for Anne it must have just been a logical step forward for her. Where Masseduction was experimental, sour, and sharp-edged, full of futuristic progressions and dystopian engagements, MassEducation is not. It is slow, intimate, subdued and minimal. Featuring mainly piano and acoustic arrangements, Anne has created a beautifully classic sound.
Genre: Singer-songwriter / acoustic
Standouts: “Slow Disco,” “Smoking Section,” “Los Ageless,” “New York,” “Pills”
12. Ought - Room Inside the World
Montreal post-punk outfit, Ought, add to the post-punk front this year with Room Inside the World. An album that’s groovy and hypnotic, Ought have improved upon their works of past with this entry. Lead vocalist, Tim Darcy, has a unique voice that cuts through the colorful palette of guitars, keys, bass, and percussion. The record chugs along with a deliberate nonchalant vibe, up until the release during the album’s midway point in “Desire.” A strong contender for song of the year, “Desire” marks a pivotal point in the album. It takes the build up of the previous four tracks, and adds to it with its own two minute and forty second build up, crescendoing to a beautiful arrangement of Darcy’s own voice backed by an array of singers. Room Inside the World is a passionate piece, one that is even better when experienced live. A solid post-punk entry deserving of every listen.
Genre: Post-punk / art rock
Standouts: “Desire,” “Disgraced In America,” “Into the Sea,” “These 3 Things”
11. Against All Logic - 2012-2017
Nicolas Jaar’s debut project on the Other People label is a beautiful house record. Seriously, this album is a broad soundscape, utilizing horns, deep and guttural synth blares, percussive snaps, soul and R&B samples, and disco and funk flavors. The songs fade in and fade out beautifully, creating a sonic cityscape and sweaty, club atmosphere. Jaar opens with the stunning “This Old House Is All I Have,” a jammy and soulful house cut. Tracks like “Cityfade,” and “Some Kind of Game,” blend funk and disco seamlessly with the digital character of boiler room house. Where Hopkins uses Singularity to imagine a space-filled void, wrapping the listener in stars, comets and cosmic gas, Jaar opts for a more down-to-earth approach. Synthesizing an urban, concrete-jungle type of space, Jaar masterfully pulls the listener into the middle of New York streets, Berlin clubs, and French dance houses.
Genre: House / boiler room house
Standouts: “This Old House I Have,” “Cityfade,” “Rave on U,” “Some Kind of Game”
10. Father John Misty - God’s Favorite Customer
Father John Misty’s Pure Comedy (2017) was one of my favorite albums last year. No album so poignantly critiqued the state of affairs the country sees itself in, what the world sees itself in. No album so vividly expressed the frustration, sadness, hopelessness, and abandon that many of us - including myself - have felt since that fateful election of November 2016. But what strikes me so powerfully now, is the knowledge that J. Tillman wrote Pure Comedy well before the 2016 election cycle. Certainly, it was not difficult for anyone to picture the road we as a country were headed down, but for Tillman to so succinctly capture those emotions before we felt them, that is something truly special.
Gone were the intimate and personal ballads found on Fear Fun or I Love You, Honeybear. Pure Comedy opted for a more meta-analysis type of song structure, critiquing society as a whole and all the populations that inhabit it. It chose to express a different type of love, a love for mankind as a whole. It had a much broader array of instrumentation as well; strings, horns, orchestral units all culminated to form a cinematic, almost theatrical sound. These elements made for an expansive and full-breadthed listen. So when it was announced that Tillman would follow up this masterpiece of a project immediately in 2018 with God’s Favorite Customer, I was intrigued to see where he would take us.
Back are the familiar song structures and instrumental arrangements found in I Love You, Honeybear and Fear Fun, back is the personal and introspective songwriting. It is (in a sense) a return to form for Tillman, or rather, Father John Misty as a character. But now, there is a sense of discomfort and dismay in Misty’s voice and delivery. It is an exploration of turmoil and it is unfamiliar to us, since Misty often comes off as confident and saturated with cynicism. This darker road we’re led down opens us to the struggles of an artist trapped behind a character. While Tillman may not consider his moniker a trap all of the time, the lifestyle his art brings has certainly caused him his fair share of hardships. And it is this honesty that is so potent to me. A beautiful, beautiful addition to an already superb discography.
Many disregard Misty because of the veil he portrays so often. A veil of cynicism, pretentiousness and superiority. But what I think many fail to realize and account for is that the veil is just that: a veil. Any character or performance can run the well dry, but I believe Misty is only reaching his peak at this moment. What keeps me invested is knowing that behind that cynicism, Josh Tillman is a deeply caring, professional and upstanding artist. His continued philanthropy is a testament to this love. And perhaps that is why God’s Favorite Customer struck such a strong chord in me. Hearing that this man has faced some of his darkest times, and yet still finds the strength and courage to help others, it is inspiring. So while you are free to judge Father John Misty the character, I think Josh Tillman deserves more than a fair shake for having helped so many of us during such dark times.
Genre: Singer-songwriter / chamber pop / piano rock
Standouts: “Hangout at the Gallows,” “Mr. Tillman,” “Please Don’t Die,” “We’re Only People (And There’s Not Much Anyone Can Do About That)”
9. Mid-Air Thief - Crumbling
This album and artist are shrouded in mystery, as far as I can tell. There is not much I can find on Mid-Air Thief and his work that isn’t written in Korean. Regardless, one thing remains clear, Crumbling is perhaps the most gorgeously textured album I’ve ever heard. It mixes elements of folk, synth pop, glitch pop, and bedroom pop to create a warm and inviting sound unique to itself. At times the album sounds like something one would hear during a Studio Ghibli film, and at others it sounds like the soundtrack to a crisp autumn afternoon. Crumbling is bubbly, sincere and vulnerable. It sounds like looking through old photo albums, it sounds like walking through the park on a warm summer day, it sounds like sharing a meal with those you love. There’s no other projects I can really compare this album to for you, and ultimately I think that’s a good thing. You just have to listen to this one for yourself to truly understand what I am talking about.
Genre: Synth folk / synth pop / glitch folk
Standouts: I mean, the whole album... but “Why?” “Gameun Deut,” “Curve and Light,” and “Crumbling Together,” for sure.
8. Amen Dunes - Freedom
Much like hallucinating on psychedelics or living through a fever dream, Freedom is a euphoric and shimmery listen. The off-kilter structure of many songs, the groovy basslines and percussion, topped off by Damon McMahon’s sensual voice sends the listener into a trance. The album builds and builds, creating an ethereal sonic atmosphere, wrapping the listener like a ghostly blanket. It draws the listener in and traps them in a haze of memory, emotion and soul.
Genre: Psychedelic folk / folk rock
Standouts: “Blue Rose,” “Time,” “Miki Dora,” “Believe,” “Dracula,” “Freedom”
7. Parquet Courts - Wide Awake!
Politically-charged, funk-woven rock anthems are certainly not a dime a dozen. Smart, catchy post-punk cuts are not easy to execute, especially when trying to interject political themes and commentary on sociopolitical issues. But Parquet Courts, a Brooklyn-based indie rock collective, have certainly accomplished the seemingly impossible with Wide Awake! Providing perspective on violence, agency in the modern age, disparities in our modern economy. The lyrical focus on this album is superb, and there is a clear attention to the writing here. But the instrumentation is equally illustrative. Slick guitar riffs, funky bass lines, snappy percussion, and a myriad of effects keep the songs flowing with character. There’s also an amazing fusion of many genres. Funk, soul, garage rock, post-punk, and jangle pop can all be heard in some form or another on this record. No song sounds like its predecessor or successor, making Wide Awake! one of this year’s best.
Genre: Post-punk / indie rock
Standouts: “Violence,” “Mardi Gras Beads,” “Almost Had To Start A Fight/In and Out of Patience,” “Freebird II,” “Wide Awake,” “Tenderness”
6. Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer
Janelle Monae is an artist unlike any other. A musician, a model, an actor, a producer, and rapper, Monae’s talents and passions have combined to create unstoppable works. From her previous LPs, to her accolades for roles in films such as Moonlight, I was very much anticipating this latest release. It seems Monae is at her most adventurous right now, venturing out into modes and endeavors few other artists would dare explore. And she does so with such poise and strength on Dirty Computer. It is much more poppy and glossy than her previous works, but it is also conceptual and forward-thinking to a high degree. Exploring sexuality, love, individualism, and pride in all forms, the album is an exquisite listen. Songs like, “Screwed” and “Make Me Feel,” are overtly sexual, but backed by tangible passion and pride. Monae’s obvious inspiration from Prince is found on these songs as well, adding to the lust and mystery. The tracks “Django Jane,” and “Pynk” are infectious and inspiring anthems, preaching love for one’s self and hearkening to the struggles of being a minority in a tumultuous America. These are not the only songs with such impacts however. The entire project is a prideful piece of art, worthy of all the accolades it has received.
Genre: Contemporary R&B / synth funk / art pop
Standouts: “Screwed,” “Django Jane,” “Make Me Feel,” “Pynk,” “I Got The Juice,” “I Like That”
5. Mitski - Be The Cowboy
At her roots, Mitski is very much a punk icon. And what is more punk than the subversion of classic musical standards? Mitski opts for a much more brief and precise project with Be The Cowboy. At 14 songs and 32 minutes, it’s an album that sucks you in and spits you out in the matter of mere minutes. Songs average on the 2:30 length, leaving just enough to make you feel full but certainly not enough to leave you satisfied. And that intentional briefness is what kept me coming back to this album. The emotional climaxes that build are abruptly cut off, and I’m left feeling empty and yearning for more. The swells of love and loss keep you afloat for just a moment, only to drag you down and leave you gasping for breath. “Geyser,” opens the album, creating a sense of empowerment and vision. But I soon realized that Mitski is battling herself in this album. She is struggling to move on from the past, but more than certain that she has the power to do so. That’s what I think “Be the cowboy,” means. At least to a degree. That idea of capturing the symbolism and presence of the old gunslingers of the west. That idea of being strong willed and free flows throughout the project. Mitski is no longer apologizing for herself. She channels that energy of the cowboy and has created an album that speaks to the strength within us all.
Genre: Indie rock / art pop
Standouts: “Geyser,” “Old Friend,” “A Pearl,” “Lonesome Love,” “Me and My Husband,” “Nobody,” “Two Slow Dancers”
4. Lucy Dacus - Historian
Virginia native, Lucy Dacus, has had quite the year. From releasing her sophomore full length record, to joining forces with her contemporaries Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker, 2018 has proved to be a pivotal moment in the singer-songwriters career. And I couldn’t think of an artist more deserving of such success and praise. Dacus is so humble and soft spoken, it is a revelation when she belts out on tracks like “Night Shift.” Her presence on stage and on her latest album evoke such emotion and personality, making Historian one of my favorite albums of the decade. From a distance, many could label Dacus as your run-of-the-mill indie singer-songwriter. But from the moment the album kicks off, you realize this is something else entire. “Night Shift,” is a perfect example of Dacus’ mature writing and song structuring, with the songs building with emotion and boiling over after a certain point. Dacus’ soft voice becomes increasingly more powerful as songs go on, and fill the room with energy and emotion.
Delving into self love, loss and facing the inevitability of time, Dacus finds herself facing mortality and wisdom at the same time. There is a sense of growth on this album, especially when compared to her debut album. The crunchy guitar lines, the smooth drums and bass, emboldened by Dacus’ one of a kind voice hypnotize the listener. Songs vary in length beautifully as well. Dacus can easily write catchy singles like “Addictions,” but she is more than capable of (and perhaps better suited for) writing expansive and fluctuating ballads that creep towards the six, seven minute mark. Overall, there is a real comfort to this record, and an unparalleled presence that is sure to stand the test of time.
Genre: Indie rock / singer-songwriter
Standouts: “Night Shift,” “Addictions,” “The Shell,” “Nonbeliever,” “Yours & Mine,” “Timefighter,” “Next of Kin”
3. Haley Heynderickx - I Need To Start A Garden
Much like a garden, music is delicate and requires the utmost care to thrive and intrigue. If cared for properly though, the fruits of your labor will be bountiful. Portland-born singer-songwriter Haley Heynderickx understands this dilemma and explores its effects and roots on her debut album, I Need To Start A Garden.
Prior to her full-length debut, Heynderickx had released an EP in 2016 titled, Fish Eyes. The four song venture was bright with intimacy and care. It was like a collection of cacti and succulents, rough around the edges yet beautiful beyond compare. Featuring muted guitar tones, subtle ventures into nature and love, and not much else, the EP was a highlight for me in 2016. Haley’s voice is so pure and emotive, it’s evident her own stories are folded into the weaves of her music.
This is why I was so excited for her full length record this year. When the folk sphere has been dominated by acts such as Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, and other giants for so long,it is refreshing to hear a new voice in the crowd.
I Need To Start A Garden opens with the somber, “No Face,” a song about self-reflection and self-doubt. And while accompanying tracks like “Show You a Body,” and “Worth It” carry heavy ethos and mystery, Haley isn’t afraid to mix in humor and on-the-nose self-deprecation. “The Bug Collector,” “Untitled God Song,” and “Oom Sha La La” mix up the pace and taste of the LP, trading subtle guitar lines for bright electric rhythms. Haley’s word play and writing talents are evident across the record, but I think these three tracks really display her knack for balancing her lyrics and her esteemed wordsmith-ing.
Much like a garden, music requires the maker to understand the mercurial nature of the process. It doesn’t just happen overnight. No artist better understands these frustrations than Haley. I Need To Start A Garden represents its namesake; its beauty hides behind a veil of minimalism, and its strengths are at times mistaken for faults. Haley’s folk roots give this album space and air to breath, and her ability to tell enchanting stories brings this album to life. If I Need To Start A Garden is any indication, Heynderickx will be back with perennial success.
Genre: Folk / singer-songwriter
Standouts: “No Face,” “The Bug Collector,” “Jo,” “Worth It,” “Untitled God Song,” “Oom Sha La La”
2. Boygenius - Boygenius EP
First and foremost, I understand that this collection of songs is technically an EP, not an LP. But I could not make a year-end list documenting all of the projects that I found transformative without including the Boygenius EP. Six intimate and simple songs, written and recorded in the span of a few weeks, including three of the most inspiring and talented individuals in music right now: Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus. The sheer brilliance of this EP is in its simplicity, as well as its spontaneity and the comfort it so easily provides.
The joining of these three musicians and songwriters has been labeled as indie music’s next ‘supergroup,’ and it is difficult to refute such a label when their debut project and respective tour made such a lasting impact on my life, and I’m sure the lives of many others. When it was announced that Bridgers, Dacus and Baker were collaborating on a project together, I had no idea that the fruits of their labor would arrive within the year. But I am oh so glad it did. These artists are not unfamiliar to me, nor are they to each other. Bridgers and Baker have toured together in the past, and Lucy joined forces with Baker for some shows this year as well. However, I had no idea what any sort of project from these three would sound like, let alone how it would impact me.
Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus all have such unique sounds and distinct approaches to music. Baker is often associated with minimalistic arrangements; her debut solo LP featured only her voice, a guitar, a looping rig, and a piano. While her arrangements have grown and been fleshed out a bit more on her sophomore release, her style is consistent. Focusing on emotional releases through the exploration of here darkest times, Baker builds her songs to cathartic releases. Dacus is similar, but often chooses to flesh out her storytelling a bit more, and opts for a fuller instrumentation (e.g. bass, drums, and a second guitar). Her songs drift and sway, hypnotizing the listener until her progressions ultimately erupt. Bridgers is perhaps the most varied in her sound. Using a baritone guitar, an acoustic, slide guitars, drums, bass and synths. Her debut album was a joy to listen to because it flipped conventional indie rock and indie folk on its head. It didn’t revolutionize the sound per se, but her songwriting and humor shine through like few other indie folk records do.
These elements from each artist come together beautifully on the EP. The way each artist is able to harmonize with each other, work off each other and build the others up is incredible. Some songs highlight a different artist in some way. “Me & My Dog,” is a ballad featuring Phoebe on lead vocals and guitar, “Stay Down,” is forwarded by Baker and “Bite The Hand” kicks the EP off with Lucy’s velvety and somber singing. But there are also cuts that serve as vehicles for the three artists’ talents to merge and blossom. “Souvenir,” and “Ketchum, ID” in particular include exquisite harmonies between the three artists and verses are traded back and forth among the singers. This sharing of material not only allows the listener to experience each artist individually, but in a way it is the sonic embodiment of what this EP is all about. It’s about sharing, loving yourself and each other, and not being afraid to find comfort in the shared anxieties that life throws at you.
Genre: Indie rock / indie folk / singer-songwriter
Standouts: The entire EP
1. IDLES - Joy as an Act of Resistance
I’ve discussed how volatile and fickle heavily-political projects can be in this day and age. It is easy for the project to drown itself in self-righteousness or to lose itself in its own tone deafness. Political narratives in music can also become jumbled and indigestible if done poorly. But this is not the case for Bristol punk outfit, IDLES, and their sophomore record here, Joy as an Act of Resistance.
Tackling UK-centric issues such as the Tory Party’s gaining grip on the nation as well as the recent Brexit controversies, Joy is very much rooted in the chaos and turmoil facing the UK today. However, the album’s messages can find relevance in the United States as well as a myriad of other countries. “Colossus,” the album’s opener, tackles toxic masculinity and its effects on the male mentality. “Never Fight A Man With A Perm,” continues this commentary with sour guitar licks and thunderous drums. Joe Talbot’s - the lead singer of IDLES - shout-like singing cuts through the mix to create a sense of urgency and resistance.
“I’m Scum” slows the record down a bit with rhythmic drums and subdued (for IDLES) instrumentation. It delves into the political and sociopolitical challenges that Britain is currently facing with its continued rise of the right wing party. Lines like, “I don’t care about the next James Bond. He kills for country, Queen and God. We don’t need another murderous toff,” and “This snowflake’s an avalanche,” deliver heavy social punches in such a vivid tone.
Joy’s political tone only continues to grow with “Danny Nedelko,” a ballad of sorts, praising immigrants and all the brilliance and love they bring to their newfound homes (where ever that may be). The song’s namesake is Talbot’s real-life best friend, Danny Nedelko, a Ukrainian immigrant to the United Kingdom. The track speaks on how every day immigrants bring immense value to their communities with lines like, “My blood brother is Malala. A Polish butcher, he’s Mo Farah.” Including the names of famous immigrants to the UK highlights just how one-sided and clouded many citizens’ views on immigrants are.
The album chugs along at breakneck pace, until “June,” the deeply emotional ode to Talbot’s daughter whose untimely passing proved to be a pivotal emotional moment in Talbot’s life. One that sprouted the genesis of this album, and one that will surely be held close for his entire lifetime.
Joy is a straightforward post-punk album with apt commentary that is applicable to any corner of the earth. But what makes this album my album of the year is its delivery of such commentary. Behind the chugging bass lines, the sharp and sour guitar lines, the pounding drums, and Talbot’s gruff voice is a message of love for one another. This juxtaposition only grows in effect with each repeated listen. From the outside looking in, it’s a rough-around-the-edges and jagged punk record. But once you peer deeper into the substance, it’s truly a representation of its title, a reaffirmation that joy is the simplest - and perhaps the most effective - form of resistance to those who work to spread hate and unrest.
Genre: Post-punk / art punk / hardcore punk
Standouts: “Colossus,” “Never Fight A Man With A Perm,” “Danny Nedelko,” “I’m Scum,” “June,” “Rottweiler,” “Television”
#aoty list#aoty#music review#music journalism#idles#father john misty#boygenius#phoebe bridgers#julien baker#mitski
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Radiohead: The Rankings
Over the last three decades one alternative rock band has stood the test of time as being one of the most influential and creative in terms of creative, styles and musicality. The band is the five-piece team from Oxfordshire, Radiohead. Though Tom Yorke does gain most of the credit for the sound of the group, and this is lyrically justified, the band as an ensemble has worked hard to establish their original and fundamentally important cohesion throughout their career. Today I reflect on each album and rank them accordingly.
9. Pablo Honey (1993)
For most artists, their first effort is the most iconic and captivating, however for Radiohead this seems more like a stepping stone into the mainstream. Their first single, ‘Creep’, remains one of their biggest hits, however the majority of the record is 1-2-step classic rock that, though good, is not very memorable.
Listen: Creep, Ripcord, Anyone Can Play Guitar, You Ignore: Pop is Dead, How Do You?, I Can’t
8. The King of Limbs (2011)
While though the concept of King; being a website exclusive mini album with theme of nature of music being intertwined; is strong, the album itself feels a bit cliché. Upon retrospect its more of the little brother or sister of such strong albums as Kid A or In Rainbows. The sound is very much 21st century Radiohead; a manic collision of instruments that somehow formulates a cohesive sound. Overall the album works, but just doesn’t have enough of a voice.
Listen: Little by Little, Lotus Flower, Bloom, Codex Ignore: Separator, Feral
7. A Moon Shaped Pool (2016)
An album that brings Radiohead fans a glimpse of their radio-friendly days. Overall a very strong release that is a beautiful combination of what made the band great, and what now makes them great. I like to call this Radiohead’s orchestral folk album because of the abundance of simple acoustic guitars, drums and strings. The only thing that may have made this album better was inclusion, even if subtle, of some electronic beats, however I do love that they finally released the studio version of ‘True Love Waits’ as a bonus track. Though a great album, its just not as important to me as what follows on this list.
Listen: Ful Stop, Burn the Witch, True Love Waits, Decks Dark
Ignore: The Numbers, Daydreams (put down your pitchforks, it’s just not my favourite)
6. Amnesiac (2001)
A few of you may have issue about me placing this album above AMSP but I have a great affinity for Amnesiac, to the point where I even have a tattoo of the logo. Thom Yorke once described this album as the fire burning inside Kid A, and if you listen, it truly is the companion piece. The experimentation is less dramatic and more simplistic than its predecessor but is still impactful and beautiful. The result is a blend of odd tracks that feels like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. A cool tidbit is that ‘Packt Like Sardines in A Crushd Tin Box’s production is inspired by ‘Believe’ by Cher
Listen: Pyramid Song, Knives Out, I Might Be Wrong, Packt Like Sardines in A Crushd Tin Box
Ignore: Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors, Hunting Bears
5. In Rainbows (2007)
What I love about In Rainbows was the band let the fans decide what is was worth and how much to pay for it. I remember at the time I was a broke gallery intern in London, UK and I managed to scrape together £5 to support the band. What also made the album special was the ability to remix two of the singles and submit for contests. I still listen to the remixes I created (found here and here), though of course the original tracks are far superior. In Rainbows is a strong and wonderful piece of (dare I say it) colourful art, which is why it is considered to be a fan favourite.
Listen: Videotape, House of Cards, Nude, Bodysnatchers Ignore: Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
4. Hail to the Thief (2005)
In 2005 Radiohead went back to their more rock-oriented sound to create the amazing Hail to the Thief. What I respect about this album is that it doesn’t succumb to nostalgia but is a valiant tour-de-force that stands well enough on its own. With some of the band’s strongest singles (’There There’, ‘Go to Sleep’, ‘2 + 2 = 5′) mixed in with experimental songs and piano driven ballads, the overall effect is brilliant. The lyrics are a commentary on celebrity culture and the Hollywood lifestyle the band witnessed while recording the album in Los Angeles.
Listen: We Suck Young Blood, There There, 2 + 2 = 5, I Will, Go to Sleep Ignore: Where I End and You Begin
3. Kid A (2000)
One of the most important albums to ever be released in music history. Kid A changed the way we as an audience appreciate rock music, breaking the rules of what is mainstream sound and what can be done in the studio. The band had become complacent to traditional sounding mainstream records and promotion and knew the internet was influencing music, though record labels were hesitant and still could not track online album sales.
During the time of release, Kid A was polarizing to a mass audience with fans turning on the band for deviating from what made them successful to critics lauding their efforts. Radiohead was also one of the first bands to not release any singles or videos to promote their album, instead choosing the album to speak on its own. Though it only sold about half of what their previous studio masterpiece OK Computer, it still managed to sell millions Worldwide.
Listen: Idioteque, Everything in its Right Place, Optimistic, Motion Picture Soundtrack, Morning Bell Ignore: Kid A
2. The Bends (1995)
Though probably my favourite Radiohead album I know it isn’t their best. Radiohead’s second album is probably the one of the best rock albums ever released, incorporating the mood of the popular grunge movement but mixed with beautiful melodies and hard-hitting guitars. Though their first hit ‘Creep’ from Pablo Honey made the band famous, this album proved they were not a one hit wonder. Tracks from The Bends are still being played on radio for almost 25 years after its release and having its singles being featured on the soundtracks of films such as Clueless and 50/50 proves its importance in the history of rock music.
Though this record sounds effortlessly clean, it actually was one of the hardest for the band to write as they felt immense pressure from their label to achieve the same success they had with ‘Creep’. Overall it took a mini-break and singer Thom Yorke recording demos on his own to finally bring the final track-listing and singles to where the band felt they had achieved their goals. The result is a 12-song masterpiece that really shaped my musical interests and love for alternative music.
Listen: All of it. Ignore: None of it.
OK Computer (1997)
AKA: Duh, of course this was number 1 as the third time is still a charm. OK Computer was the first album in which Parlephone, Radiohead’s former label, finally trusted them to create music without an RA (Record Associate) breathing down the band’s neck. On a budget of £100,000, Radiohead went back their studio in Oxfordshire, purchasing equipment, such as plate reverberators to create odd and unusual sounds to mix with their classic rock sound.
OK, though still radio friendly is an extremely experimental, and is obviously an F-You to the music industries demand for The Bends part deux, proving that the same formula does not need to be repeated to be successful.
Listen: All of it. Ignore: None of it.
#radiohead#thom yorke#the bends#ok computer#rock music#alternative#rock#2018#1990s#classic rock#kid a#amnesiac#the king of limbs#moon shaped pool#1997#johnny#johnny greenwood#uk#oxfordshire#brit pop#creep#creep song#just#paranoid android#exit music for a film#high and dry#in bloom#parlephone#everything in its right place#clueless
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hello
I had never even seen a shooting star before. 25 years of rotations, passes through comets' paths, and travel, and to my memory I had never witnessed burning debris scratch across the night sky. Radiohead were hunched over their instruments. Thom Yorke slowly beat on a grand piano, singing, eyes closed, into his microphone like he was trying to kiss around a big nose. Colin Greenwood tapped patiently on a double bass, waiting for his cue. White pearls of arena light swam over their faces. A lazy disco light spilled artificial constellations inside the aluminum cove of the makeshift stage. The metal skeleton of the stage ate one end of Florence's Piazza Santa Croce, on the steps of the Santa Croce Cathedral. Michelangelo's bones and cobblestone laid beneath. I stared entranced, soaking in Radiohead's new material, chiseling each sound into the best functioning parts of my brain which would be the only sound system for the material for months.
The butterscotch lamps along the walls of the tight city square bled upward into the cobalt sky, which seemed as strikingly artificial and perfect as a wizard's cap. The staccato piano chords ascended repeatedly. "Black eyed angels swam at me," Yorke sang like his dying words. "There was nothing to fear, nothing to hide." The trained critical part of me marked the similarity to Coltrane's "Ole." The human part of me wept in awe.
The Italians surrounding me held their breath in communion (save for the drunken few shouting "Criep!"). Suddenly, a rise of whistles and orgasmic cries swept unfittingly through the crowd. The song, "Egyptian Song," was certainly momentous, but wasn't the response more apt for, well, "Creep?" I looked up. I thought it was fireworks. A teardrop of fire shot from space and disappeared behind the church where the syrupy River Arno crawled. Radiohead had the heavens on their side.
For further testament, Chip Chanko and I both suffered auto-debilitating accidents in the same week, in different parts of the country, while blasting "Airbag" in our respective Japanese imports. For months, I feared playing the song about car crashes in my car, just as I'd feared passing 18- wheelers after nearly being crushed by one in 1990. With good reason, I suspect Radiohead to possess incomprehensible powers. The evidence is only compounded with Kid A-- the rubber match in the band's legacy-- an album which completely obliterates how albums, and Radiohead themselves, will be considered.
Even the heralded OK Computer has been nudged down one spot in Valhalla. Kid A makes rock and roll childish. Considerations on its merits as "rock" (i.e. its radio fodder potential, its guitar riffs, and its hooks) are pointless. Comparing this to other albums is like comparing an aquarium to blue construction paper. And not because it's jazz or fusion or ambient or electronic. Classifications don't come to mind once deep inside this expansive, hypnotic world. Ransom, the philologist hero of C.S. Lewis' Out of the Silent Planet who is kidnapped and taken to another planet, initially finds his scholarship useless in his new surroundings, and just tries to survive the beautiful new world.
This is an emotional, psychological experience. Kid A sounds like a clouded brain trying to recall an alien abduction. It's the sound of a band, and its leader, losing faith in themselves, destroying themselves, and subsequently rebuilding a perfect entity. In other words, Radiohead hated being Radiohead, but ended up with the most ideal, natural Radiohead record yet.
"Everything in Its Right Place" opens like Close Encountersspaceships communicating with pipe organs. As your ears decide whether the tones are coming or going, Thom Yorke's Cuisinarted voice struggles for its tongue. "Everything," Yorke belts in uplifting sighs. The first-person mantra of "There are two colors in my head" is repeated until the line between Yorke's mind and the listener's mind is erased.
Skittering toy boxes open the album's title song, which, like the track "Idioteque," shows a heavy Warp Records influence. The vocoder lullaby lulls you deceivingly before the riotous "National Anthem." Mean, fuzzy bass shapes the spine as unnerving theremin choirs limn. Brash brass bursts from above like Terry Gilliam's animated foot. The horns swarm as Yorke screams, begs, "Turn it off!" It's the album's shrill peak, but just one of the incessant goosebumps raisers.
After the rockets exhaust, Radiohead float in their lone orbit. "How to Disappear Completely" boils down "Let Down" and "Karma Police" to their spectral essence. The string-laden ballad comes closest to bridging Yorke's lyrical sentiment to the instrumental effect. "I float down the Liffey/ I'm not here/ This isn't happening," he sings in his trademark falsetto. The strings melt and weep as the album shifts into its underwater mode. "Treefingers," an ambient soundscape similar in sound and intent to Side B of Bowie and Eno's Low, calms after the record's emotionally strenuous first half.
The primal, brooding guitar attack of "Optimistic" stomps like mating Tyrannosaurs. The lyrics seemingly taunt, "Try the best you can/ Try the best you can," before revealing the more resigned sentiment, "The best you can is good enough." For an album reportedly "lacking" in traditional Radiohead moments, this is the best summation of their former strengths. The track erodes into a light jam before morphing into "In Limbo." "I'm lost at sea," Yorke cries over clean, uneasy arpeggios. The ending flares with tractor beams as Yorke is vacuumed into nothingness. The aforementioned "Idioteque" clicks and thuds like Aphex Twin and Bjork's Homogenic, revealing brilliant new frontiers for the "band." For all the noise to this point, it's uncertain entirely who or what has created the music. There are rarely traditional arrangements in the ambiguous origin. This is part of the unique thrill of experiencing Kid A.
Pulsing organs and a stuttering snare delicately propel "Morning Bell." Yorke's breath can be heard frosting over the rainy, gray jam. Words accumulate and stick in his mouth like eye crust. "Walking walking walking walking," he mumbles while Jonny Greenwood squirts whale-chant feedback from his guitar. The closing "Motion Picture Soundtrack" brings to mind The White Album, as it somehow combines the sentiment of Lennon's LP1 closer-- the ode to his dead mother, "Julia"-- with Ringo and Paul's maudlin, yet sincere LP2 finale, "Goodnight." Pump organ and harp flutter as Yorke condones with affection, "I think you're crazy." To further emphasize your feeling at that moment and the album's overall theme, Yorke bows out with "I will see you in the next life." If you're not already there with him.
The experience and emotions tied to listening to Kid A are like witnessing the stillborn birth of a child while simultaneously having the opportunity to see her play in the afterlife on Imax. It's an album of sparking paradox. It's cacophonous yet tranquil, experimental yet familiar, foreign yet womb-like, spacious yet visceral, textured yet vaporous, awakening yet dreamlike, infinite yet 48 minutes. It will cleanse your brain of those little crustaceans of worries and inferior albums clinging inside the fold of your gray matter. The harrowing sounds hit from unseen angles and emanate with inhuman genesis. When the headphones peel off, and it occurs that six men (Nigel Godrich included) created this, it's clear that Radiohead must be the greatest band alive, if not the best since you know who. Breathing people made this record! And you can't wait to dive back in and try to prove that wrong over and over.
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Radiohead - Kid A Review
Even before listening to this album in full, it already meant quite a bit to me. I discovered How To Disappear Completely and Motion Picture Soundtrack from a doomer playlist (I know), and I overplayed the living SHIT out of those two songs, because they were so incredible to me. I had never really heard anything like it, I suppose, so I picked Kid A as my starting point to listening to Radiohead’s discography (I listened to Pablo Honey in 2018 with the intent to do it chronologically but I didn’t feel it so let’s pretend it never happened).
This is definitely the most “layered” album I’ve covered in this blog so far, the closest one being because the internet (which didn’t really deserve a 9/10 but whatever I really liked it first time I listened to it) due to it being meant to be consumed along with a play, but this album has much more context behind it to grasp before I just give my thoughts on it, before I can fully understand the songs and themes and artistic decisions enough to form an opinion on the whole thing; what I’m mainly referring to is the band’s whole style and approach shifting hard with this album, from what I’ve gathered of the discussions around the internet. On hindsight, maaaybe it wasn’t the best album to start off with, but fuck it.
The first thing I’d like to note is how sterile and solitary almost all songs sound, which I’m assuming is the general charm of Radiohead. But even though I’m just starting this gloomy journey, I’m willing to bet the band’s other records can’t be as beautifully monochrome and introspective as this one, as I’ve heard some say it is a standout in how sad it is. The surrealism in How To Disappear Completely, the way it inserts you into Thom Yorke’s weird, dreamy disassociation, is something that will probably stick with me forever. I appreciate this atmosphere very much, both on the surface level of track-by-track analysis, and on the more contextual level, with the so far limited amount of background info I have.
The experimentation with synthesized sounds in a majority of the tracks cooperates very well with the more instrumentally present tracks, in a way that I believe avoids a certain stagnancy the record could have had if Yorke & Co. decided to go full sadboy electronica. What happens instead is a much-welcomed change of gears on the tracks The National Anthem and Optimistic, where the energy is at a high-point and the lyrics have room to collaborate with the more lively backing instruments once again, which sets something of a familiar ground in this big, cold landscape of an album (I’m coming off all fake-deep here but I’m going through some kind of writing brainstorm at 1:31 a.m. so excuse me. Also the cover art is fantastic and reflects the sound of the project very well, so props to Donwood).
A good portion of this album deals with political themes amongst all the depressing undertones layered in self-reflection, as seen simplified and stripped down, but still central, in the title track and The National Anthem, and under surgical focus in Idioteque and Optimistic. The analogies and statements aren’t blatantly amazing in any of those tracks, but the simplicity and open room for the imagery of the listener to flow is what gives these lines a stronger meaning. Yes, referencing Animal Farm and the Pied Piper isn’t ground-breaking, but when paired with the ambiguity of the bare-bones verses throughout all songs here, it changes the perspective of the listener to a wider scope. The album excels at being the least specific possible to attain this sense of observing a whole world of melancholic thoughts and scenes, while at the same time carrying with every track a decisive, unique theme, and building said theme upon this broad canvas. Whether this is genius or just your average good songwriting that I’m completely overreacting to, I don’t know, all I know is I appreciate it.
The mixing and structuring of the songs is impeccable; the way Thom’s voice brings chill every single time I listened to it in Everything In Its Right Place, the gorgeous decision to vocode his voice in the title track, the insane compositions in How To Disappear Completely and Motion Picture Soundtrack, the sterile, heavy snares and whaling synthesizers that seem to dance with Yorke’s melodies in Idioteque, it is all so meticulously put together, it feels like I’m transported into this cold, futuristic early-2000s abandoned metropolis; it is passionate and beautiful in almost every corner. The looping, eternal guitar notes in In Limbo, suddenly lost in the warping spiral of the trapdoors mentioned previously in the track, the ambient instrumental of the title track, the Treefingers interlude after the climax of the song before it, all these elements emanate loneliness in such a satisfyingly catchy and memorable way, that will definitely have me coming back multiple times.
Overall, I’m starting to grow very passionate about this album. Maybe it’s because I’m writing about it, and trying to find good things to say, maybe it is actually that good and it won’t immediately get old to me, like what happened with Hyperspace, which made me feel very enthusiastic about it while reviewing it, only for me to notice how forced this euphoria was. I’d like to believe this is a masterpiece, however.
FAVORITE TRACKS: Kid A, How To Disappear Completely, Optimistic, In Limbo, Idioteque, Motion Picture Soundtrack
LEAST FAVORITE TRACK: Morning Bell (I guess?)
9/10
“That there, that’s not me. I go where I please. I walk through walls, I float down the Liffey.”
#radiohead#kid a#album#review#album review#experimental rock#rock#ambient#electronica#thom yorke#why am i awake
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I’m not exactly sure what my expectations for the OKNOTOK cassette were - I read that review - but whatever I thought it might be I don’t think I expected it to be this. What we have is the most extraordinary compilation spanning 80 minutes from old acoustic songs from the depths of the vaults, electronic loops and snatches of recordings that became very familiar songs plus studio chatter, fitter happier computer voice, a small child reading CUTWs which is possibly the most brilliant and creepiest thing I’ve heard, plus older versions of songs that are massive fan favourites.
Nothing about this feels like fan service (as I’ve said in the below post), as if we’re being fobbed off with things we already know, as @yesterdaysantiquatedchests said to me last night - this cassette isn’t for the casual fan at all. It can absolutely be enjoyed by everyone but it’s a gift to those of us who have spent hours on citizeninsane listening to sections of songs, reading lyrics, and trying to de-code and understand the songs more than just the studio album versions and lyrics at face value. I’m listening to it all the way through for the second time and I don’t think I could tire of this, it’s like the more you listen the more familiar bits pop out at you (as Ben’s said there’s like shreds of Kid A, Rat’s Nest and other bits), plus the purity of Thom’s voice from MPS to the older No Surprises is so incredibly moving.
It’s a truly wild thing to listen to in order. It’s made me laugh and nearly cry (Motion Picture Soundtrack I’m looking at you), a lot of it is the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. This is exactly what I live for when delving deep into Radiohead - things that seems nonsensical but aren’t and all connect into this weird, wonderful Radiohead lore that I fell in love with.
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MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK: possible cover song on Hopeless Fountain Kingdom
These tweets from the House of Aureum and the Solis Angelus accounts are both lyrics from the song Motion Picture Soundtrack by Radiohead.
She covered Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line for Badlands, maybe this is a hint that she did a cover of Motion Picture Soundtrack for HFK.
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Kid A Review
Today, we look at a Big Important Album: “Kid A” by English experimental rock band Radiohead. Yes, the rock band known pretty much as The Post-Nirvana Rock Band and The Best Album of the 2000s. It’s hefty territory, but let’s go.
Radiohead formed at Abingdon-on-Thames School in Merry Auld England back in 1985, but they really gained fame with 1993’s “Creep,” a self-loathing grunge anthem that also serves as the one song you can’t name when Radiohead fans want to test if you’re a real fan. Since then, they got more and more experimental. “Kid A” and “OK Computer” are their most widely recognized album names, but they seem to be the type of band whose name recognition outweighs their material knowledge in the public consciousness. Despite my nerdiness, I had not previously heard a single Radiohead song, or at least I did not know it if I heard it. (I just don’t go that bizarre with my music tastes)
“Kid A” is Radiohead’s fourth album, released in 2000, and it is a mood. Not the modern slang, but as in an aesthetic. Quite surprising to me, the album is not really a rock album, even in the broadest terms. Radiohead really went more for ambient here: spacious atmospheres, synthesizers, keyboards, sound effects, and drum machines abound, while guitar is regulated to just another instrument and lead singer Thom Yorke’s vocals are indistinct and far back in the mix. Everything is put into service of a mood. While some rock elements crop up from moment to moment, “Kid A” is functionally not really a rock album, but it doesn’t quite fit into ambient territory besides the obvious influence. Several tracks are more tensile and better defined than that genre’s typical fare, plus lyrics appear. So “Kid A” is this alien in-between of rock and ambient.
As an ambient-rock album, “Kid A’s” aesthetic seems to be disconnect on every level possible. Yorke is plaintive and inaudible, and the guitars tend toward plucking and cold. Similarly, the plethora of keyboards, effects, and drum machines create this deadened, empty, yawning vacuum of still noise. The lyrics were picked from a hat, and those are just repetitive ramblings of loneliness, despair and death. On that count, “Kid A” works. The album is cold and merciless: it feels like freezing to death in space.
And really, that’s all I can say about “Kid A.” The album tempts many a thinkpiecer and music blogger, but not me. Perhaps I’m an old fogey, but the LP left me cold. Yorke’s not an interesting singer, the lyrics are bare, and the music is stoically glassy-eyed. There were parts I certainly enjoyed: the Sergeant Pepper-esque saxophone breakdown in “National Anthem” and “Idiotheque’s” edgy dance beat were unique and interesting, and the moody “Motion Picture Soundtrack” was enticing. Overall, while I certainly found it masterful, the surgical lack of humanity that defines “Kid A” also means I only appreciate it and do not love it.
Perhaps my personal tastes are to blame, and not just a desire for lyrics or more gripping soundscapes. While I realize that ambient music requires a massive amount of skill and creativity, I have difficulty grappling critically with such. The genre literally aims to be background noise, and that subconscious ethos is a major influence on “Kid A.” Now combine that with the rock elements. Radiohead, by some respects, still made a rock album in an extremely broad sense. Definitely the super-artsy, electronic-leaning rock and roll. Radiohead combining ambient and rock means that the band’s lyrics and edge can bring some rock inspiration to ambient while the electronics can transcend the normal scope of rock, but that also means the ambient stuff is not going to be as moody nor is the rock going to rock. It’s a combination that works and is interesting, but it’s a combination that also calcifies itself.
Might I just add that I’m not sure how innovative this album is?
This is a tangent, but I’ll keep it brief. With Radiohead’s cultural niche as “An Artistic Band,” I was led to believe their peak was revolutionary in the history of rock, and yet I’m fairly certain the band breaks little to no new ground on “Kid A.” Yorke admitted he took the random lyrics technique from the Talking Heads’ “Remain in Light,” and the music sounds an awful lot like the back half of David Bowie’s Brian Eno-produced “Low,”. Maybe “OK Computer” is the album people point to as magnum opus material, but for your best album of the 2000s, you need something more than the synthesis of two twenty-plus-year-old albums. And in my defense, this was the larger critical response of the time.
“Kid A.” An album banally high-concept. The ambient elements lend it toward longer contemplation, and the rock elements lend it toward moping. I found it well-executed with some fantastic production and a perfectly encapsulated mood of despondency, but the hype and appropriate coldness left me unmoved. These things have been done before. Would this make me call Radiohead or “Kid A” the best of the decade? I would say they aimed for it and a certain sector believes so, but I would have to give “Kid A” a 7.5 out of 10.
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Daggy Man - Zen And The Cookie (Rescue Dog)
With the continued success of singers like Bon Iver and James Vincent McMorrow, the introspective and wistful male vocal delivery feels vital right now. Here we have the accompaniment of a very slight percussive groove, the hint of a backbeat, and a discreet use of acoustic piano.
The result of this production alchemy might remind you of Motion Picture Soundtrack from Radiohead’s Kid A: just a few different sonic themes and a lot of circularity. The trick seems to be front-loading all of the lyrical density, so that the first time you go through the song, you can’t catch it all. My main touchpoint for this one is that moment before falling asleep: land of the pseudo-conscious, where the libretto fits quite appropriately.
It is the sound of your most private thoughts.
"Dim street lanterns on the way to somewhere at least." -- Daggy Man
Hailing from Australia, Daggy Man (Thomas Calder) was created as a side project from his primary endeavor, The Trouble With Temptation. This song is featured on our Rainy Day playlist.
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Radiohead Retrospective Part 8: Slowly we unfurl
Last week I compared The King of Limbs to Kid A, a reference I find completely natural. Both albums use significant electronic and ambient instrumentation, especially compared to the albums preceding them, and both feature stark, surreal imagery and lyricism. Kid A is a response to the band’s discomfort at getting huge, while The King of Limbs is a response to them deliberately getting much smaller after cutting ties with EMI/Parlophone.
I’m also pretty sure that comparison really pisses off a bunch of people who really like Kid A and really don’t care for The King of Limbs. And they’re entitled to their opinion, but they’re wrong. Album’s great.
Aside from potentially the spookiest cover of any Radiohead album, TKOL as it’s so abbreviated happens to be the shortest Radiohead album, clocking in at 8 songs and under 38 minutes (for reference, the longest one is Hail to the Thief at 14 songs/~57 minutes). It does not, however, seek to be wasting any of those minutes, despite the often looping nature of its songs, each drizzled in enough Stuff Going On that it feels much deeper than that short timeframe makes it seem.
That, or I just get lost in the groove.
While the comparison to Kid A is probably getting a bit old at this point, I think I’d like to reiterate it by comparing the opening seconds of Everything in its Right Place to that of TKOL’s opener, Bloom. EIIRP opens with this ultimately simple electronic line that feels cold and robotic, and while Bloom’s opening moments are still obviously electronic, they’re clearly made of something more lifelike. And by that, I mean it sounds a lot like a heavily edited, chopped, and looped piano line, one that folds itself into the very genuine percussion loops that follow. It’s a difference of tone, this life against the coldness of silica, even though the two are obviously both computer-made.
I don’t think Bloom truly comes into its own until that bassline comes in. Fortunately, it only takes like a minute for that to happen, with the incredibly ethereal and reverb-y vocals soon to follow. The bass is ultimately incredibly simple, but it adds such a grounding to the other instrumentation, those rapid, looping, high-pitched tracks that go on and on et cetera. And then you get about a two-thirds of the way in and the brass and strings come in that I had entirely forgotten about, but are so pretty, during the bridge (?), it’s genuinely quite lovely.
I wouldn’t call Bloom a banger, because it’s not that type of song. But at the same time, Bloom is a banger, basically.
By comparison, Morning Mr Magpie feels much more organic, in that more of the instrumentation being looped is acoustic/”real”. There’s a very delicate and deliberate guitar strum that the song is built around, with a similar but looser bassline meandering around in the background as it goes. MMM is much more built around the vocals than Bloom was (apparently the bass and vocals were the last things to be added to that track), more concrete images developed, and an actual verse/chorus/verse/chorus structure which feels a little strange on an album like this.
The instrumentation on this track feels anxious, the guitar and percussion reminding me of drumming my fingers on the table in impatience or nerves, but it’s so uncomfortable that it can’t get it perfectly rhythmic.
And frankly, this song does make me uncomfortable. You see, magpies in the UK have an association with thievery, collecting, and having an eye for shiny things. In Australia, magpies are associated with pecking people’s eyeballs out. So there’s a bit of a disconnect between countries and species is what I’m saying.
At some point I had decided that Little by Little was my favourite song on TKOL, and while I can’t really justify that, but I will (for now) stand by it. It’s got some excellent instrumentation- jingly background loops sounding like a machine, or even a bicycle, giving the track a sense of motion. Meanwhile, the bass is just absolutely killer, somehow both intricate and simple-sounding, notes that sound almost the same but aren’t quite. The lyrics are nursery-esque, with rhyming pairs and idioms aplenty. “Little by little by hook or by crook/I’m such a tease and you’re such a flirt” is a really fun couple of lines, even if they really don’t have the same meaning outside of context as they do inside.
Every time I think I’ve heard everything there is to hear in this song, there’s more to surprise me. The different guitar lines, the background noises, rising instrumental and sinking vocals. Underrated, methinks.
Track 4 is the shortest song of the shortest album, Feral. Not so much lyrics in this, as snippets of heavily edited vocalisations- they might say something, but you’re sure as hell not going to figure that out listening to it. The song is heavily percussion-driven, to the point where there are long spans of it where the looping drums are the only instrumentation actually present. More electronic white noise comes in later, getting louder and harsher, as the vocal snippets increase in frequency and variability, but there’s always those drums, keeping on keeping on.
Feral is kind of in an odd spot, frankly, because it is one of hose tracks that’s fine, it’s good¸ but I genuinely cannot imagine being in the mood to listen to it. It’s tightly wound, almost stressful, but what little is added on doesn’t especially cater to that mood. I think there’s some comparison to be made to The Gloaming, of all things, though I think I like that track better than this one.
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The one single from the album is Lotus Flower, and if you haven’t watched that music video…fucking, do it? Thom is just iconic in this one, channeling memetic levels of weirdo-dance. Lotus Flower makes the best choice for single on this record, being both the most past-Radiohead-y, and the most traditional song-y track on the record, somehow. Thom’s falsetto is at its peak here, utterly gorgeous in performance and presentation, with loops on some of the held notes that in some cases only just reveal themselves as artificial.
This is not to discredit the instrumental, with the best Radiohead use of handclaps since 15 Step (to my knowledge, the previous iteration of this), an electronic instrumental that would probably make a much sadder song were it not for the vocals and the groovy bassline. Seriously, the bass makes this piece genuinely danceable, it’s incredible.
…man, look at him go.
Every time I hear Codex I think it’s the last song on the album, and I always have to remind myself, no, it’s not that short, come on. This slow, sad, piano ballad (?) echoes previous album closers while still feeling incredibly TKOL, its piano being reminiscent of Videotape, brass coming in like Life in a Glasshouse, and utterly down vocals akin to any number of Radiohead’s finest. Some of the lyrics are actually very reminiscent of Pyramid Song, imagery of, well, jumping into bodies of water, but as that track’s river was full of tragedy and memory, Codex’s clear lake is, apparently, clear and innocent.
I was thinking about that album-closer comment before I heard the section of the track that comes in at 3:35, with wavering strings that feel incredibly like Kid A, like Motion Picture Soundtrack and How to Disappear Completely.
I should probably stop comparing Codex to other Radiohead songs, though. It does stand on its own without those, a beautiful, melancholic song. It is incredibly chill, muted even, the kind of song to float in the water to, staring up at the stars. It’s down, but it’s not in pain, if that makes sense? Like, the vibe I get from it is of acceptance, and of moving past what’s holding one down- something you repeat in your head while you’re deep in the shit.
Wait that’s just How to Disappear Completely again, fuck.
Moving on, Give up the Ghost opens with, of all things, birdsongs. It’s actually an acoustic guitar ballad to pair with Codex’s piano ballad, multiple iterations of the instrument layered over each other in a natural but artificial soundscape. The vocals do the same, with the lead harmonising with a backing refrain of “don’t haunt me” to give this relatively gentle track a sense of desperation, almost (I’ve seen it written as “don’t hurt me” in some places but…come on, listen to it, also it is Give up the Ghost after all).
Give up the Ghost is another very chill track that you can just lean into and relax by. Even as it gets more complex and layered as it goes, with another background vocal layer edited in the background steadily getting fuzzed and less comprehendible, the song doesn’t stop being what it is. That acoustic line doesn’t stop vibing, the tempo doesn’t pick up, it is more than content to stay right where it is. And it’s a comfortable stop.
The album’s final track is Separator, and it is frankly one that I always forget. Despite being the actual track closer (sorry again, Codex), it doesn’t have that impact that tracks like Street Spirit (Fade Out) or A Wolf at the Door do. Ironically, this might make it the most fitting closer for The King of Limbs, considering the largely relaxed, ambient nature of the album.
There isn’t honestly that much to divulge about Separator that you wouldn’t have guessed from the album that precedes it. It’s got looping tracks, layered vocals, and this one really satisfying electronic note that hits every couple seconds that I quite like. About halfway through, a patently lovely guitar line comes in, one of the few I can definitively think of that are relatively downtempo but that I could still describe as “bright”. With all the stuff going on at once, the song does end up a bit of a mess at times, as these different elements that have been present in different pieces of the song blend together for a bit of an echoey jumble, but it does resolve itself before long. After that, the song and album’s final minute or so is surprisingly simple, with the track effectively picking the handful of lines it wants to hang on to, one of the vocal tracks and one of the ambient effects and one of the percussion lines, and lets them run their course, the album ending on an echo of the track that once was.
That completes The King of Limbs, an album named after a tree in England, by the way. It always bugs me when I see this one near the bottom of people’s tier lists, because it really just doesn’t miss. It’s the product of a band that’s been working and experimenting for two decades, and it really shows the fruits of that labour. It’s quite the band that can put out something like Bloom immediately after an album with tracks like Bodysnatchers and Jigsaw Falling Into Place, and have both work.
The King of Limbs was the last album that came out before I got into Radiohead, so naturally, I basically didn’t listen to it for several years. I kinda went piece by piece into their discography, and I hadn’t had it as heavily recommended to me as others. But it easily stands just as tall as those other albums, even if it’s technically a little shorter.
For the record, I haven’t decided if I’m going to cover TKOL RMX 1234567 yet. It is listed next to all the rest of them on any collection of their albums, and it’s a perfectly respectable piece of Radiohead canon, and I did want to cover all the non-main-album stuff at some point. On the other hand, it is just a remix album, I’ve kinda been going through the main stuff chronologically, and also I’ve never listened to it.
So basically, we’ll see! And you’ll see, next week, whether we go straight to A Moon Shaped Pool or deviate a bit for some capitalised numerical action.
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