2010: A Year In Music [Part 2 of 5]

We now continue my list of musical discoveries of 2010. Enjoy!

Lloyd Cole & The Commotions - Rattlesnakes

I mentioned in the first post that this list wasn't in any sort of order, but if I was to order this list, this would most definitely be my album of the year. I haven't gotten as excited about an album since I first heard Cold fact by Rodriguez.

I first heard about this album when I read in a review that the Camera Obscura song Lloyd, I'm ready to be heartbroken was an answer song to Are you ready to be heartbroken? from this album. I started reading reviews about Rattlesnakes and the acclaim that I read quickly let me to add it to my list of albums to pick up (check out the reviews on Amazon where there isn't a single rating of less than 5 stars).

Released in 1984, this is a definitive "lost classic" album which deserves to be heard by anyone with even a passing interest in good music. I would compare the sound of this album most to 2 bands - The Smiths and The Go-Betweens. The melodies are gorgeous (get a let of that guitar riff on Charlotte street, or the chorus of Down on mission street) and the vocal performances are spot on (Patience, Rattlesnakes).

The lyrics are literary in the same vein as Robert Forster, injected with lots of pop-culture references (She looks like Eva Marie Saint in On the Waterfront / She reads Simone de Beauvoir in her American circumstance) and wit (She's got cheekbones like geometry and eyes like sin / And she's sexually enlightened by Cosmopolitan). It looks pretentious on paper, but like some of Jarvis Cocker's best material, Lloyd Cole has the talents to pull it off to perfection.

A shamelessly flawless album which is recommended to anyone with ears.

Died Pretty - Doughboy Hollow

Australian alternative rock band Died Pretty formed in 1983 in Sydney. Led by the charismatic vocalist Ron Peno, this album from 1991 (the year that grunge broke) is often considered to be their finest effort. I first read about this album in a magazine where various Australian musicians were asked to name their favourite Australian albums, and this album was mentioned a few times.

Equal parts atmospheric ballads (Doused, Turn your head, The love song), anthemic rockers (Sweetheart, Godbless) and melodic pop numbers (D.C., Stop myself) -- this is an eclectic yet cohesive album which isn't too far removed from the music that R.E.M. were making in the late 80s and early 90s (when they transitioned to the Warner Brothers label).

The core of their sound is a combination of the chiming guitar of Brett Myers and powerful vocals of Ron Peno. It's a filler-free and well-sequenced album which deserves a place in the great Australian albums hall of fame.

The Dukes of Stratosphear - Chips From The Chocolate Fireball

Chips from the chocolate fireball is a compilation of the 1985 EP 25 O'clock (pictured above) and 1987 album Psonic psunspot released by The Dukes of Stratosphear in 1987. The Dukes of Stratosphere was a pseudonym for the British post-punk/pastoral-pop band XTC, who were probably best known for their hit singles Senses working overtime and Making plans for Nigel.

When this album was released, it was never revealed who the Dukes of Stratosphear were, and only those with keen detective skills (and a good ear) figured out that it a cheeky little side project of XTC. It was a clever piece of musical marketing; just like the Beatles had done 20 years earlier with Sgt Peppers, XTC had re-invented themselves by pretending to be a completely different band. What was the most pleasant surprise was the exceptional quality of all of the material on this compilation, with many of the songs being better than some of the "real" XTC songs.

It was a detour sonically, allowing Andy Partridge and co. to experiment with the sounds of late 60s psychedelia. Most of the songs wear their influences proudly, from Syd Barrett era Pink Floyd (Bike ride to the moon), Nuggets-esque rockers (25 O'clock), cockney Small Faces-esque pop (Have you seen Jackie?, Albert Brown) and of course post-Revolver Beatles (almost everything).

The absolute highlight is saved until last with the gorgeous Pale and precious, one of their many tributes to the music of Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys circa Pet sounds. It's a stunning piece of work and possibly their finest 5 minutes.

Bob Dylan - The Bootleg Series Volumes 1-3 (1961-1991)

This classic compilation has been on my list of box sets to buy for a long time, and it took the Australian dollar reaching a long-term peak for me to finally decide to pick it up on eBay. I'm not sure what I can say about this compilation that hasn't already been said many times ad nauseum, but I'll say it again. If you consider yourself a Bob Dylan fan, and only have his studio albums, you ain't heard nothing yet. There are songs on here which are not only some of Mr Zimmerman's finest, but some of the finest songs released in the past 50 years.

The 58 songs on this 3 CD set include material from a span of just under 30 years, from his youthful folkie days of the early 60s, through to his classic mid-60s Highway 61 revisited and Blonde on blonde era, his mid-70s Blood on the tracks era, and his "born again Christian" era of the late-70s and early 80s. It's a fascinating collection, documenting his growth as a musician and a songwriter, and his unwillingness to sit still or confine himself to a particular genre of music

There are outstanding folk songs (He was a friend of mine, No more auction block, Let me die in my footsteps, Who killed Davey Moore?, Moonshiner), most of which are better than some of the material released on his first 4 albums.

There are interesting experiments like the surreal spoken word poem Last thoughts on Woody Guthrie and funny instrumental Suze (The cough song) where Bob breaks down in a coughing fit at the end of the song.

There are also the original versions of some of the Blood on the tracks songs, before Dylan decided to re-record them with new musicians. And there are some delightfully catchy outtakes like the Blonde on blonde era She's your lover now and live Seven days which will probably edge their way into your top 20 Dylan songs.

I haven't even mentioned Blind Willie McTell, an absolute highlight of this set: a haunting ballad which for some bizarre reason Dylan didn't include on the Infidels album, an album which was not devoid of filler. This compilation is a dusty collection of hidden gems that you find locked away in the attic; I look forward to discovering and re-discovering these songs for many years to come.

Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes

Critics raved about this album when it came out in 2008. I'm getting much more cynical of hype as I get older, and I figured that it would be one of those "flavour of the month" albums that would get old pretty quickly. I finally picked it up when I was in London in late 2009, and it has been an album which has stood the test of time well for me.

Sure, they are not the most original or inventive band around, and in fairness they should probably be donating half of their royalties to Brian Wilson. But what their music lacks in originality it makes up for in passion and talent, and they pull off the baroque pop sound better than most other bands in recent memory.

Highlights include the gloriously epic White winter hymnal, the beautifully understated ballad Tiger mountain peasant song and the gorgeously addictive He doesn't know why. There are little magic moments throughout, like the change halfway through Ragged wood which turns it into a completely different song. A highly recommend album.

2010: A Year In Music [Part 1 of 5]

In previous years, my end-of-year ramblings were epic affairs where I discussed my favourite albums and songs of the year, my musical discoveries of the year and a re-evaluation of the previous year.

I only purchased two albums from 2010 - Shadows by Teenage Fanclub and Teen dream by Beach House. Lists of two aren't fun for anyone, so let's cut to the chase, and where my passion for music lies these days. I'm living in the past, man. Here were my choice aural discoveries of 2010 (sorted alphabetically, because orders are so arbitrary). It will be spread over 5 posts to ensure you don't get musical indigestion.

AC/DC - Back In Black

A few people will laugh at seeing the epitome of cock-rock in my list. A former workmate asked me a few years ago whether I had any AC/DC in my collection, and I informed him that they were a band I was yet to get into. This was the first album released after the death of original frontman Bon Scott, and I'm sure this choice will annoy the purists who say that replacement Brian Johnson was no match for the late singer.

There's no doubt that this is an adrenaline charged rock album with all the power riffage, misogynist lyrics and melodies that you need to get your blood pumping. Other than the more well known songs (You shook me all night long, Back in black and Rock and roll ain't noise pollution) there are some lesser-known classics like Have a drink on me, Shake a leg and Shoot to thrill which make this an incredibly solid rock album.

Antony & The Johnsons - The Crying Light

Long time readers of this blog may or may not remember that this band's 2005 album I am a bird now was my #1 album of 2005, as well as taking pride of place in my top 5 albums the 2000s. I had since picked up their debut (self-titled) album, which was also excellent but didn't quite reach the heights of I am a bird now.

The crying light was released in early 2009, and it has been on my list for a while to get. In 2010 I finally picked it up, and I am very impressed with it. Where I am a bird now was quite a diverse album (mainly due to the presence of several guest vocalists), what The crying light lacks in diversity it makes up for in subtle and cohesive beauty. Antony's haunting vibrato is one of my favourite instruments in recent memory, and he is able to convey so much emotion with his enunciation and phrasing.

From the stunning opener Hey eyes are underneath the ground, the playful Kiss my name, the eco-epic Another world and gorgeous closer Everglade, this is an album which deserves your respect and time. Challenging, yet oddly accessible.

The Avalanches - Since I Left You

This album by the Australian electronic dance collective was only released 11 years ago but is now considered a classic Australian album. Electronica, techno and dance is not generally "my bag baby" but after this album was featured on the excellent Classic Albums Podcast, I was convinced to pick it up. After all, these were two guys who generally reviewed indie, rock and pop music, but they also referred to this album as a masterpiece.

I'm glad I picked it up, because this was a wonderful addition to my music collection. A patchwork quilt of samples, sounds, melodies, beats and atmosphere; this is an album to get lost in. The tracks segue into each other until they no longer stand out as individual moments but as chapters in a never ending party. Yes, it's an album that needs to be listened to from start to finish, but there are also some gorgeous standouts: the opening title track sets the scene (with a great Madonna sample thrown in for good measure), Frontier psychiatrist is a piece of melodic sampling genius (crazy in the coconut?) and Two hearts in 3/4 time is a mesmerising chill-out number.

Just like Kind of blue and It takes a nation of millions to hold us back did for the jazz and hip-hop genres, this is an electronic album for people who don't generally like electronic music. A stunning musical achievement: but how can they follow it up?

The Beach Boys - Today!

The Beach Boys' 1966 masterpiece Pet sounds is rightly considered to be one of the best albums ever released. They also have some other great albums released in the late 60s and early 70s which are worth exploring, like Friends and Sunflower (please check them out if you haven't yet).

Like many people, I was falsely under the impression that Pet sounds seemed to come out of nowhere and most of their pre-1966 material was the cheesy surf music which tends to dominate the radio, giving the false impression that they were a bit of a novelty band. But like their friends across the Atlantic (The Beatles), The Beach Boys demonstrated a steady artistic progression during the mid 60s which hinted the way towards their masterwork.

The Today! album was released in 1965 and demonstrated Brian Wilson making huge artistic strides in both his songwriting and production talents. The first half of the album has some great individual moments like Don't hurt my little sister, When I grow up (to be a man) and the non-single version of Help me, Ronda (note the omission of the 'h' which was added to the single version). The two "dance" songs on the first half (Do you wanna dance? and Dance, dance, dance) don't sound too different from some of their earlier material, but most of the other songs have a sense of maturity and progression.

It's the second half of the album that provides the signpost towards Pet sounds - a stunning, gorgeously melodic suite of harmony laded love ballads with tinges of sadness and longing. The harmonies are exceptional and it all adds up to a eargasmic side of music.

Jackson Browne - Running On Empty

You would probably have to be living under a rock to not know the title track from this album. Just turn your radio dial to an oldies station and you would be guaranteed to hear it within the hour.

I had one other Jackson Browne album before this one -- Late from the sky -- an album which has some beautiful moments but didn't quite gel to a complete album for me. I decided to pick up this album when I did a bit of research about it, and I found several fans and critics refer to it as a "classic road album" in the same vein as Rattle & hum and New adventures in hi-fi.

I can't think of a better phrase for describing this album than this. From the scene-setting opening title track, themes of travel and being on the road permeate every sound and lyric of this excellent record. Most of the songs were recorded in hotel rooms, backstage in concerts and live on stage; the sound, production and vibe of the album are perfectly suited to the lyrical themes of travel, groupies, drugs, roadies and being far away from home.

One of the things I love about the album is those little touches -- how The road transitions seamlessly from a lo-fi hotel recording to a live recording, those wonderful harmonies during the chorus of Shaky town (courtesy of Danny Kortchmar) and the seamless segue between the roadie tribute The load out and the closing sing-along Stay. This is an album which isn't afraid to get a bit of dirt under its fingernails.

Oh Captain, My Captain: Captain Beefheart 1941-2010

I was saddened to open up the Pitchfork web page on Saturday afternoon and see the headline at the top: "R.I.P. Captain Beefheart". It was accompanied by a sad photo of the Captain from his (now) final 1982 album Ice cream for crow.

I first stumbled upon the music of the eccentric Don Van Vliet (the Captain's real name) after reading an interview with Simpsons creator Matt Groening, who named the 1969 album Trout Mask Replica as his favourite record of all time. Being a long time Simpsons fan, I respected the opinion of Matt Groening, so I sampled a few songs like Ella Guru and Dachau Blues from Trout Mask Replica. It was a little while later that I purchased the album, and to this day it remains one of the strangest and most enigmatic 78 minutes of music in my extensive collection.

I have since picked up many more of his albums: Safe as Milk, Strictly Personal, The Spotlight Kid and Clear Spot. While they are all much more "normal sounding" than Trout Mask Replica, this term is used very relatively. They are all avant-garde blues-rock creations that helped pave the way for much musical experimention and boundary-pushing in the decades to follow. If it weren't for the work of Van Vliet, Tom Waits may not have made the dramatic (and much needed) stylistic u-turn in 1983 when he released Swordfishtrombones.

Rest in peace, Captain Beefheart. May the dust blow forward, 'n the dust blow back.

"Moonlight on Vermont" (from Trout mask replica)

"Big Eyed Beans From Venus" (from Clear spot)

"Yellow Brick Road" (from Safe as milk)

Manic Street Preachers gig [20th November 2010 @ The Forum]

James Dean Bradfield in the heat of the moment

I last saw Welsh alternative rockers Manic Street Preachers back in 1999 at the Prince of Wales in St. Kilda, for their This is my truth tell me yours tour. At the time I only had two of their albums -- the highly underrated This is my truth (1998) and anthemic post-Richey classic Everything must go (1996). This made that a gig of two halves for me; the recent songs that I knew and loved, and the older songs which the die-hard fans were screaming over, but I hadn't heard.

This time I had all of their albums bar their latest, Postcards from a young man, which I have listened to but have yet to purchase. It was also at The Forum in Flinders Street, my favourite gig venue as I have stated many times on this blog.

I met up with my mate Pete, his brothers and work-mate at the venue after leaving early from a bucks night which I was attending. I had consumed a few ales at the bucks night, so this was the first gig in what seemed like a long time that I attended in a less-than-sober state.

We missed the support act, and shortly after 9pm the Manics took to the stage. Opening with one of their Richey-era anthems, You love us, they covered a very diverse section of songs from most of their 10 albums released over a 19-year span. There were old-skool fan favourites like Motorcycle emptiness, Faster and Motown junk, some now mid-career classics like If you tolerate this and The everlasting and a few surprises like Suicide is painless (a.k.a. the theme song from MASH, albeit with lyrics).

Vocalist/guitarist James Dean Bradfield chatted a little with the audience between songs, but it was the flamboyant bassist Nicky Wire who stole the show, returning to the stage part-way through the gig wearing what appeared to be a pink skirt, sailor hat and a shite-load of make-up. He clearly deserves the title of the most camp heterosexual musician in the world.

The biggest disappointment for me was that they didn't play a single song from their superb 2009 album Journal for plague lovers. Easily their most impressive album of the 2000s, it would have been great to hear a bit of Jackie Collins existential question time or Virginia state epileptic colony, but alas it was not to be. They didn't play any songs from their more synth-heavy 2004 album Lifeblood, but that didn't bother me so much.

Closing the set with their sing-along 1996 anthem A design for life, Bradfield and co. farewelled the Melbourne audience. Like fellow Welsh statesmen Super Furry Animals, and legendary English metalheads Spinal Tap, the Manics don't believe in encores. Which suited me quite well; my prior over-consumption of beer wasn't sitting very well, and the fresh air outside the Forum was just was the doctor ordered.

Bootleg media

Nicky Wire before his costume change

All aboard...Nicky Wire after his costume change




Performance of one of their early 90s classics, "Motorcycle emptiness"

RIP: Pete Quaife 1943-2010

[Hardly breaking news]: Pete Quaife, the original bassist for British invasion band The Kinks, passed away last month at the age of 66. This makes him the first of the original four band members (including Ray Davies, Dave Davies and Mick Avory) to no longer be with us.

The Kinks formed in 1964 and first hit the charts with their classic rock song You really got me. Over the remainder of the decade they demonstrated tremendous musical evolution not unlike their contemporaries, a little known Liverpool act known as The Beatles.

They released several fine conceptual albums in the late 60s and early 70s -- Face to face, Something else, Village green preservation society, Arthur and Lola. Their 1971 album Muswell hillbillies is my personal favourite, an underrated and lost classic which you should definitely pick up if you get a chance.

At the core The Kinks were a very singles-dominated band and picking up one of their many singles compilations is the best way to get into them. From the power chords of All day and all of the night, the wry character portraits of Well respected man and Dedicated follower of fashion, the gorgeous story-telling of Sunny afternoon and the perfect pop of Dead end street and Lola, they left a remarkable legacy on the British musical landscape.

Their work influenced countless bands in subsequent decades, and they were in many ways the Godfathers of Britpop.

Rest in peace, Pete.

Wilco gig [5th May 2010 @ The Forum]

Jeff Tweedy in action

[Photo courtesy of MarkP]

American alternative rock band Wilco last played in Australia a few years back, touring for their Sky blue sky album. At the time I had decided to give the gig a miss, a decision which I regretted when some of my other gig mates went along and subsequently raved about their live performance. When I heard recently that not only were Wilco returning to Melbourne, but they were playing at The Forum (easily my favourite musical venue) it was an opportunity too good to pass up.

A few days before the gig my mate Mark informed fellow gig mate Matt and myself that there was going to be even better "bang for the buck" because Liam Finn was supporting Wilco. Regularly observant readers may remember that I named his 2007 debut album I'll be lightning as one of my favourite albums of the 2000s. Needless to say, I was very pleased when I heard that he would be playing support.

While Liam had quite a reputation for rocking out in his live performances, I don't think anyone was expecting the utterly surreal performance of his act that night. While I usually gloss over the support act in my gig reviews, his set almost overshadowed the night for me.

It deserves a review of its own.

Liam Finn

Liam's set opened with a couple of songs from I'll be lightning -- the beautiful ballad Fire in your belly and Better to be. While the former was played in a fairly conventional acoustic fashion, for the latter he used a device which I hadn't seen before. He basically played the rhythm guitar part and then activated a machine to loop the same part continuously. This gave him the rhythmic foundation of the song (necessary since he was playing alone), allowing him to overlay the sound with lead guitar noodling and improvisation.

He had some strange mannerisms while playing guitar, sometimes closing his eyes like he was in pain or having a seizure. There was something a bit David Helfgott about it all.

After playing a couple more songs (On your side and Remember when), the set all got much weirder. He told the audience a story about a man (Connan Hosford) who he has met in New Zealand as a "wandering spirit". Connan had lived with Liam for a while, sleeping in his bed because "it was the only place he could" (although the impression was that their relationship was platonic). Then Liam invited Connan to come on the stage to perform in a few songs, and we were introduced to him as a sleight, youthful and fairly shy man with wavy blonde hair and an almost child-like demeanour.

Liam Finn and Connan Hosford
[Photo courtesy of MarkP]

Liam told the audience about how Connan and himself had co-written a song in tribute to actor Leonardo DiCaprio called Leo, and they performed this on stage. Liam sung the bizarre song with his normal voice, with Connan singing in a high falsetto, performing some strange vocal tricks by using his finger to vibrate his larynx. It was a bizarre display, with many audience members including me finding it all very amusing. When Connan finally did speak, he appeared to have a fairly normal voice.

Connan stayed on stage for the remainder of the set, providing the high backing vocals for the title track from I'll be lightning. Apparently Connan co-wrote the song with Liam and performed backing vocals on the studio version. It was interesting making the connection between the vocals on the studio version and this man on stage.

When he wasn't singing, Connan was dancing really awkwardly to the music. He appeared to be very nervous, but overall he came across as a bit of a Bez (of Happy Mondays fame). The set list ended with a cover of Devo's song Gut feeling, where Liam Finn went off with the help of a mini joystick-shaped theremin.

It was one of the most memorable supports acts I have ever seen; I wish all support acts were this interesting live. I would definitely see him live again if I had the chance.

Wilco

Now who was I here to see again? That's right -- Wilco! Shortly after Liam left the stage, an announcement in a semi-computerised voice came over the PA system instructing fans not to take photos or video. Then Wilco took to the stage to the cheers of the already hyped-up crowd.

Wilco (the band) opened with Wilco (The song) from their most recent studio release Wilco (The album). Could there be an any more appropriate opening song? While the song is a bit of a throwaway, they managed to turn it into the perfect signature song to introduce all of the members of the band. They shone a spotlight on each band member in turn, stating their name; at the end it was all capped off with a single word: Wilco. It was an incredibly effective way to open the gig, showing that the band had a great sense of humour and showmanship.

The first half of the gig consisted mostly of songs from their last 4 studio albums, the albums where they moved away from their alt-country roots to embrace more alternative influences (although admittedly their last 2 albums were a return to a more conventional sound). Highlights of this part of the set included the beautiful Muzzle of bees, the dynamic At least that's what you said and the epic Handshake drugs (which worked much better in a live setting for me).

But the climax of the first half was undoubtedly the awesome Impossible Germany, where lead guitar virtuoso Nels Cline, Jeff Tweedy and the youthful looking Pat Sansone jammed like it was going out of fashion. It was an incredible display of interplay and duelling guitar, and it rawked the house down.

Jeff Tweedy and Pat Sansone trading guitar licks during "Impossible Germany"
[Photo courtesy of MarkP]

The second half of the gig began when bassist John Stirratt took to the microphone to sing the beautiful country song It's just that simple from their debut A.M. While this is (as far as I know) the only song on any of their studio albums not sung by Jeff Tweedy, I wasn't aware that the singer of that song was still in the band. It was a surprise inclusion in the set list.

The majority of the second half of the gig consisted of material from their albums prior to their breakthrough Yankee hotel foxtrot, and music from this era had a much more of a country feel to it. Their performance of Via chicago from Summerteeth was nothing short of amazing, where the mellow verses suddenly disappeared in blasts of dissonance and feedback while Jeff Tweedy and the backing vocalists continued singing as if it was business as usual. It was a sight (and sound) to behold.

The beautiful ballad Jesus etc. provided a chance for the audience to participate, where Jeff Tweedy encouraged everyone to sing along. The crowd definitely did the song proud, singing most of lyrics correctly and rarely missing a beat. I was actually a little disappointed that I didn't get to hear Jeff sing more of the song; he only came in with his vocals in the last verse.

They finished their set with a duo of rockers from their 2nd (double) album Being there -- Monday and Outtasite (outta mind). When they returned to stage for an encore, they played a duo from their 2004 album A ghost is born -- The late greats and the live favourite rocker I'm a wheel, which concluded the gig on a very positive note.

They played for about 2 1/2 hours, and my overall impression of the band can be summed up by two words: class act. They are such consummate professionals who are masters at what they do, and they do nothing short of rocking your socks off when they play live. It was such a pleasure to see such professional musicians performing; they are true entertainers.

Jeff Tweedy is an incredibly charismatic frontman, coming across as a guy you would like to have a beer and a chat with. He engaged the audience throughout the gig, taking requests for songs, telling stories and joking around; but never forgetting that you were there to rock and/or roll.

There are so many pretenders out there, but Wilco perform like a classic 70s rock act, and are (together with My Morning Jacket) one of the best examples of bands I have seen who are able to capture the spirit of that bygone era.

Bootleg media

I made a mistake of taking my camera out too early, during the Liam Finn set. A security guard tapped me on the shoulder and kindly told me that photography was not permitted. After that, I was too scared to bring the camera out again (figuring that since he had given me a warning, he had a valid reason to kick me out or confiscate my camera if he caught me again).

Since my friend Mark hadn't been warned, he was courageously able to take photos during the remainder of the gig (when the crowds were bigger and there was less chance of being caught). Thank you to Mark for all of the photos throughout the blog post. Here's a few more.

Is that you on the left Nigel Tufnel? No it's just Nels Cline.
[Photo courtesy of MarkP]


Drummer Glenn Kotche going off
[Photo courtesy of MarkP]

Spoon gig [30th April 2010 @ Billboard]

Indie band Spoon (who hail from Austin, Texas) are one of my favourite bands from the last decade. Despite getting into them quite late (when I bought their 5th album Gimme fiction in late 2005), I have since purchased most of their albums. It didn't take long for their unique breed of minimal piano-driven rock/pop to get under my skin. With a back catalogue of 7 albums and several EPS, they had a plethora of excellent material to populate a solid set list, and I eagerly awaited the gig.

Taking to the stage with very little fanfare, they opened with the slow burner Before destruction, the opening track from their latest album Transference. Their set covered a vast spectrum of their back catalogue, with bias towards their last album and its predecessor Ga ga ga ga ga (their commercial and arguably artistic peak).

Highlights throughout the set included a groovy rendition of Me and the bean (a cover of a song by Austin band The Sidehackers, included on their Girls can tell album), beautiful ballad I summon you and the Motown pastiche of You got yr. cherry bomb. The crowd seemed to respond best to the Ga ga ga ga ga material; a great cross-section of that album was included, from the anthemic Don't make me a target, atmospheric The ghost of you lingers and groovy numbers Rhthm & soul [sic] and The underdog.

There weren't too many surprises in the song line-up, but front-man Britt Daniel introduced one song as "a Wolf Parade song" before launching into an admirable cover of Modern world from their Apologies to Queen Mary album. Stay don't go (from Kill the moonlight) was also nice to hear, sans the beat-boxing which is integral to the rhythm of the studio version.

Unfortunately Britt Daniel appeared to have a few voice issues, apologising on several occasions and asking the audience if he sounded a bit hoarse. Many of the songs were punctuated with bursts of feedback during the peaks and fade-outs; initially I thought that these were accidents, but my gig mate Matt believed that maybe they were done on purpose to hide his limited vocal range. I certainly didn't think they added anything to the music, so hopefully he was just having an off-night. The sound quality wasn't great in general, but that's probably a criticism directed more at the venue (and possibly sound engineer) than the band.

No songs were played from A series of sneaks (Metal detektor and Metal school would have gone down particular well), and the selection from Girls can tell was also quite lean (the poppy Everything hits at once and down-tempo 1020 AM would have added a bit more variety to the set list). But the biggest disappointment of the night was not getting to hear The way we get by live; not only is it my favourite Spoon song, but it's one of my favourite songs of all time.

Britt Daniel's stage presence at times reminded me of the late Ian Curtis, front-man for the influential post-punk band Joy Division. I'm not sure if it was the almost-robotic way in which he carried himself, but it was especially apparent when he ended the gig after epic finale Written in reverse; he said goodbye to the audience and just dropped the microphone from the height at which he was holding it. It just seemed like something Ian Curtis would have done.

Overall it was a respectable gig, but one marred by technical issues and a (slightly) disappointing set list. Maybe I've just been spoilt by other excellent gigs from recent memory.

Bootleg media

Britt doing his best "Joe Strummer" impersonation.

Britt strumming away.

Performance of I summon you from their Gimme fiction album.

My 50 favourite albums of the 2000s [1]

1. Augie March - Sunset Studies (2000)

Augie March formed in 1996 in Shepparton, a country town almost 200km north of Melbourne. They released a few EPs in the late 90s, the patchy Thanks for the memes (1998) and the excellent Waltz (1999) which included their early hit Asleep in perfection. Waltz was a very accomplished EP which has held up very well over 10 years later, with several of the songs (Rich girl and The mothball) still part of their live setlist.

Waltz was a delicious appetiser, but I wonder how many were expecting the sumptuous banquet that Augie March unleashed on their full-length debut album Sunset studies. You don't even have to hear a note of the album to realise that you are dealing with something very special here; just look at the elegant cover art and a flick through the tasteful booklet. It is a labour of love.

Epic opener The hole in your roof takes its time with a very long, droning fade-in before vocalist Glenn Richards enters the scene: "What do the men say / To the women when they lay down at night / All naked of arms from the old imagined flight?". This was the first Augie March album I bought, and the combination of Richards' ethereal vocals, deeply enigmatic lyrics and the slow-burning intro piqued my interest on the first listen. The song is an exercise in tension and release, building to a stunning climax near the end of its 7 minutes.

Follow up Maroondah reservoir opens with more Glenn Richards poetry "To be / A bee, a moth / Four wings spread for the soft last touch of glory sun" before latching on to an amazing melody that sounds unlike anything you have ever heard before, but will have you humming it after only one listen. It is one of the few songs on the album that loosely fits within the constaints of the tradition verse/chorus structure which most popular music feels the need to be bound to. Most of the songs are quite happy to meander and wander, dancing around the ebb and flow of Richards' remarkable poetry and streams of consciousness.

While most of the music here is progressive and boundary-pushing, there are a few accessible anchors to keep the listener grounded on those all too important initial listens. There's the heart-breaking piano ballad There's no such place, featuring the late Rob Dawson on backing vocals and piano. There is the lyrically dense The offer, which despite breaking the fourth wall on a few occasions ("This is a song, not like the other ones") turns out to be one of the catchiest songs they have ever released. Asleep in perfection is also included despite its presence on the Waltz EP, but it fits in perfectly amongst its peers.

Then there's the slow burners which didn't blow me away on the first listen, but after a few listens they became some of my favourite moments. The stunning ballad Tulip and the pastoral folk of The good gardener (on how he fell) both start off as fairly subdued affairs before reaching transcendent climaxes. The cinematic title track, with its aristocratic imagery ("You are the queen of the dustbowl / Ex to a crier in a town of ashes") will hit you on the 4th listen, I promise you. The inner voice in your head will say "I'm not worthy!" while you try to keep those goose-bumps under control.

Sunset studies is a very long album at 76 minutes, and I think the best way to manage it is to abstract it into an album of 3 parts:

Part 1 (The hole in the roof - Tasman awakens) introduces the various facets of their sound -- slow burning epics, melody, groove, beauty and finally the folk of Tasman awakens.

Part 2 (Believe me - Heartbeat and sails) sees them branching out in odd directions, from the sample-driven interlude of Believe me, the old school folk of Men who follow spring the planet 'round, and the odd and haunting drone of Angels of the bowling green (which seemed like 5 minutes of filler until I realised how lyrically macabre it was).

Part 3 (The offer - Owen's lament) ends the album on a more accessible note with four very melodic songs, before the stupendous closer Owen's lament shoots the album into the stratosphere. This is one of my favourite songs of all time, and after more than 20 listens I am still blown away by it every time I hear it. It is musical perfection, and mirrors the epic opening track in how aptly it bookends the album.

Their follow-up Strange bird (2002) was a perfect sequel, fully deserving of its high placement in this list. Trying to choose between the two albums was incredibly difficult, as they both mean a lot to me. Sunset studies just edged its way to the top because it was the album which introduced me to their music (thanks for the recommendation Pete); for that reason it will always hold a special place in my heart.

I bought this album during a time of my life when I was getting into a lot of new, exciting music, and it helped to create a life-long obsession for me. It is one of the albums which made me realise that music didn't have to be immediate or formulaic to be engaging. It made me realise that looks can be deceiving and the rewards are there to be reaped if you put in the time and effort to let a work of art reveal itself to you. It is the antithesis to what I dislike so much about a lot of modern music.

It is my favourite album of the 2000s.

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Here's a statistical breakdown of my top 50:

Country	# albums
United States	23
England	10
Australia	8
Canada	2
Wales	2
Germany	1
New Zealand	1
Ireland	1
Sweden	1
Scotland	1

Year	# albums
2002	13
2001	12
2003	7
2000	4
2005	4
2007	4
2004	3
2006	1
2008	1
2009	1

My biggest surprise here was that the majority of albums were by American musicians. I have always considered myself a fan of primarily British music, but even when I total the United Kingdom (England, Scotland, Wales) and Ireland counts it still falls short of the American total.

I am not surprised that 2002 was the best year of the decade -- I once gave it the coveted title of the best year for album releases many moons ago. However, I was surprised that 2005 and 2007 (both great years for music) didn't appear higher in the list. I'm definitely not surprised that the last couple of years didn't appear much in the list, as I definitely curbed my purchasing of new releases over the past few years.

Thanks for reading my top 50 albums of the 2000s.

You can read the previous posts in the series here.

My 50 favourite albums of the 2000s [1]

1. Australian Idol - The Final 13 (2005)¹

I realised when I started to pre-compile my list of the top 50 albums of the 2000s that it was an incredibly difficult task. "Albums of the decade" lists are a dime-a-dozen, and I really wanted my list to stand out amongst the crowd. Then it hit me: most lists like this are incredibly subjective, the opinions of mere music reviewers. Maybe I could stand out from the crowd by applying some sort of science to it. I knew there must be a more objective way to choose the best album of the 2000s.

Then I had a revelation -- the reality show franchise Australian Idol had already done the hard yards for me. Host James Mathison (and former co-host Andrew G) said in almost every episode "It's time to vote Australia" or "Australia has voted". Australia's population (which currently stands at about 22 million) is a pretty large sample size. Could the population of Australia help me choose the album of the decade?

At the end of each season of Australian Idol, the winner releases an album in time for the Christmas buying season. They also release a compilation of songs recorded by all of the contestants who made it to the finals. By definition, each year includes 10-13 finalists who are the best musicians in the country. That means all I had to do was pick the best season in Australian Idol history, and the album (or compilation) of the decade falls right into my lap. Take that, Pitchfork!

Picking my favourite year for Australian Idol was a tough decision. Should I go for season 1, which introduced both Guy "Like a virgin" Sebastian and Shannon "Nollsy" Noll to the world? It was a very tempting choice, as the compilation also included the legendary Rob "Millsy" Mills singing a version of Dirty girl, which one can only assume was dedicated to his flame at the time Paris Hilton (who broke his heart when she stopped returning his phone calls).

Season 2 was also a contender; not only did it introduce the pint-sized Anthony Callea and the prolific winner Casey Donovan to the world, but in a strange self-propagating twist, it also found a future co-host for the show in Ricki-Lee Coulter when James Mathison decided to quit the show recently. Take that, space-time continuum!

In the end, I had to go with season 3 from 2005. Just like the classic animated sitcom The Simpsons, the Australian Idol franchise reached its inevitable peak in this season. While you could argue that the young Bendigo lass Kate DeAraugo was the major contributor to this (whose take on bogan chic was as patriotic as you could get), we must not discount the talents of the über-polished Daniel Spillane, who managed to suck all of the testosterone out the classic AC/DC rocker T.N.T. to allow him to grow that little tuft of hair on his chin. And who can forget the young rocker Lola Forsip, whose rendition of The Who's Won't get fooled again scored a touchdown from judge Mark Holden?

Season 3 was also the first season that resident bad-boy Kyle Sandilands appeared as a judge, replacing Ian "Dicko" Dickson, who decided that food interested him more than music when he became the host of My restaurant rules. While Dicko was a music mogul from way back, Kyle Sandilands was dating Tamara Jaber from reality show band Scandal'us (formerly known as Bardot), which immediately gave him the credentials to judge and criticise music.

Anyone who made it to the top 13 (and hence this CD) had to pass through the Kyle filter, and while it was an incredibly gruelling task, he ensured that any of the girls who were carrying a bit too much "baggage" were quickly dismissed from the show. After all, we didn't want those "tuck shop lady arms" getting in the way of the musical performances.

But what really elevates season 3 all of the other seasons is the talent of one very special person.



Lee Harding.

Come on people, this is a guy who wore a T-shirt of the US punk band The Misfits without having any idea who they were. He also wore a pair of Mötley Crüe shoes despite the fact that he could hardly name any of their songs. Step aside Iggy, the real Godfather of punk is right here.

Unfortunately some of his detractors have accused him of being a sellout bubblegum punk, a try-hard emo kid who wants to take the quickest possible road to fame. But isn't his behaviour as punk as it really gets? The original punk philosophy was about distancing yourself from the mainstream and the bombastic excesses of stadium rock. So what better way to show your punk credentials than appearing on a reality show? Surely 10,000 screaming and texting 12 year old girls cannot be wrong. Stick it to the man!

While many Australian musicians are taking the slow road to fame by playing the pub circuit, writing their own songs and actually dedicating their lives to music, the top 13 performers represented on this CD provide the real heartbeat of the Australian music scene.

It's my patriotic choice for the best album of the 2000s.

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¹In case you're wondering why I have created a new post with a new number 1 album, you may want to take note of the date of this post.

My 50 favourite albums of the 2000s [2]

2. Badly Drawn Boy - The Hour Of Bewilderbeast (2000)

While compiling this top 50, I noticed that there were quite a few debut albums on the list which the respective artist or band was never able to top. This album is a prime example; while Badly Drawn Boy (a.k.a. Manchester singer-songwriter Damon Gough) has released some respectable music since his debut, nothing has even been in the same league as this experimental and multi-faceted masterpiece.

I first read about this album in the UK music magazine Q. They had one of those full-page advertorials about this album, with a picture of the cover and several quotes from rave reviews. I remember initially being really impressed with the album cover, an eye-catching homage to Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian man.

Since I had never heard any of his music before, I listened to a sample from Amazon -- Once around the block -- which I thought was pretty catchy and oddly reminded me of Jamiroquai (I guess there's a vague resemblance in its white-boy funk melody).

I decided to pick the album up, and while I don't remember it blowing me away immediately, I knew that there was a lot of promise beneath its restless diversity that it wore so proudly. Some songs were immediate (Once around the block, Disillusion, Pissing in the wind), but most of the songs revealed their charms slowly over repeated listens. Eventually, hidden gems like the subtle jazzy melody of Stone on the water got underneath my skin. Further listens revealed other favourites.

As great as most of the songs are on an individual level, it probably wouldn't be the masterpiece that it is without the conceptual unity that ties all of the songs together into an oddly cohesive long-player. There's the "water trilogy" of Fall in a river, Camping next to water and Stone on the water. There's the gorgeous instrumental interludes (Bewilder, Bewilderbeast, Blistered heart) which act as a form of delectable musical glue that binds the album together.

Then there's those little surprises in the deep crevices of the album: the hidden song at the end of Cause a rockslide, the splash at the end of Fall in a river (boom tish) and the trippy stereophonic panning of This song (which I love despite the subtle feeling of nausea it gives me). Not all of the experiments work (I could have lived without the 45 second interlude that is Body rap), but you have to take your hat off to the sheer audacity on display here.

There's also a conceptual lyrical arc that runs over the course of the hour-long album, beginning with the infatuation of The shining ("I'm dying...to put a bit of sunshine in your life") and concluding with the regretful melancholy of Epitaph ("Please...don't leave me"). A lot of the other songs hint at feelings which are felt during an intense love affair, from the lust of Everybody's stalking, the romanticism of Magic in the air and the giddy confusion of Disillusion.

A diverse mosaic of sounds, textures and moods, The hour of bewilderbeast is an anarchic labour of love from the incredibly fertile and imaginative mind of Damon Gough. Like a Jackson Pollock painting, he threw all of his musical ideas at a blank canvas and ended up with a work of art. A decade on, one can look at it as a creative master-stroke from a very talented musician who probably reached his creative peak way too soon.