Christmas Card From An Ex-Blogger in Toronto
If writing is a muscle, then I, friends, am a soft, lumpy couch potato. I mean, just look at all the commas in that last sentence — I’m sure that’s wrong. But you know what? I don’t even care.
It’s been almost exactly one year since I put chromewaves.net — that would be the music blog I ran for over 11 years — out to pasture, and in that time, the question I’m most frequently asked (by those who knew or cared) is what I’ve been doing with my time since then. Answer? A whole lot of nothing.
Actually, that’s not true. The transition back to civilian life has been much easier than I’d expected, since as it turns out having the freedom to listen to whatever music and attend whatever shows I like — to say nothing of having the time to watch TV or read books or just be domestic — is pretty great. Actually, strike that last bit because if I was really being domestic my apartment would probably be tidier. But it’s fair to say that my personal relationships are in much better shape than they’d have likely been if I hadn’t given up the blog.
In the spirit of the season, however, here’s an update of what I’ve been up to the past year for those out there who’ve for some perverse reason missed being kept apprised of my comings, goings, and (musical) consumptions. And who don’t follow me on Twitter.
As always, there’s been some travel. It doesn’t feel like there’s been as much in past years, even though that’s quantifiably not true. There was a spontaneous weekend getaway to New York back in February, then in May a return to London. Both of those were relatively quick outings compared to a late Summer fortnight in Iceland and Paris, the former notable for being riddled with earthquakes, volcanoes, and even a hurricane and the latter for offering a steady supply of chocolate croissants. And before the year is out, I’m off again for my first time in both Hong Kong and Tokyo. Yeah, I’m getting around.
On the musical end of things, my concert intake has decreased rather dramatically but I’ve not been a total shut-in. When I have been persuaded to get off my couch, I’ve seen some pretty great stuff — highlights this year include Kraftwerk, Blood Orange, Bernard Butler with Ben Watt, Nils Frahm, and amazingly the resurrected Slowdive not once but twice. And with Luna and Ride reunions go for 2015, I’m not retiring my earplus just yet.
With respect to the recorded arts, no longer paying close attention to what’s new/hip/buzzing has been as easy as falling off a log. That said, I’ve still managed to assemble a list — habits die hard — of ten records released this year that have generally delighted me amidst my immersion in the back catalogues of Kraftwerk and David Bowie. I’m sure that there’s records that, had I spent more time with them — holla, Perfume Genius, Kiasmos, Honeyblood — or even bothered to have heard them in the first place, might have found a place in my heart and on this list but you know what? That’s not my job anymore if it ever even was, and I can still look forward to discovering them in the future. Because time, my friends, is a closed circle.
The Afghan Whigs / Do To The Beast (Sub Pop)
The nitpicker may point out that of the original Whigs, only Greg Dulli and John Curley appear on this record — guitarist Rick McCollum having excused himself between the original reunion tour and these recording sessions — and that the lineup credited has more Twilight Singers DNA in it than Whigs. And while true, what’s more important is that Beast contains the Whigs’ soulfulness, seediness, and swagger, all undiminshed by the years. A welcome, vital return.
Allo Darlin’ / We Come From The Same Place (Slumberland)
As curious as it might sound for a band that first won hearts with a ukulele-led, twee-as-fuck sound, the more the Aussie-led Brits grow up, the better they get. It helps that Elizabeth Morris just gets better and better as a songwriter, honing her ability to make the intensely personal feel universal, and grafting them to buoyant, indelible melodies. Plus Paul Rains is a shit-hot guitar player and Same Place gives him a lot more room to show it off. You won’t miss the ukulele, I promise.
Alvvays / Alvvays (Polyvinyl)
After discovering these guys in late 2012/early 2013, I had two hopes — that they’d release their debut album before I hung up the blogging gloves so that I could gush about it, and that it’d be as good as I expected it would be so that I could gush about it. The former didn’t pan out, unfortunately, but the latter most definitely did. Recipes blending sugary guitar hooks and bitter pill lyrics don’t get better than this folks. Happily, more than enough other writers around the world wide web were willing to sing its praises in my place.
Fear Of Men / Loom (Kanine)
Brighton three-piece Fear Of Men stand out from this year’s Brit-indie rookie class for not aping the XX/indie-soul stylings that are de rigeur in 2014. Instead, they channel a more Platonic ideal of indie rock, with guitars moving from a chime to a churn and back again, elegantly framing Jess Weiss’ clear, perfectly-elocuted vocals which in turn deliver academically-phrased and emotionally shaded sentiments of melancholy and anxiety, never breaking eye contact. A stunningly assured debut.
I Break Horses / Chiaroscuro (Bella Union)
My experience with Chiaroscuro recalls that of another group of beloved Swedes. It took me a while to get over The Radio Dept.’s trading in the bulk of their fuzzy guitars for icy synths between the making Lesser Matters and Pet Grief, but the latter now sits as probably my favourite in their ouvure. It’s too early to say if Maria Linden’s turn for an almost wholly electronic, to say nothing of darker and more downbeat, direction will turn me around to the same degree, but in the almost year since its release any sense of disappointment has long faded and the record continues to reveal itself.
Lykke Li / I Never Learn (Atlantic)
It sounds terrible to say out loud, but the sadder Lykke Li Svensson Zachrisson is, the happier I am. Initially dismissing the breezy coquettishness of her debut Youth Novels, I was floored by 2011's heartbroken Wounded Rhymes and its follow-up was even more emotionally devastated. It doesn’t hurt that the Spector-saluting production adopted last time out is back and more dramatic, its massive sonics contrasting nicely with the starkness of the lyrical content. Don’t get me wrong, I do hope Lykke Li finds happiness; just not too much, now.
Manic Street Preachers / Futurology (Columbia)
I was rather amused at the “Manics reinvent themselves” and “Manics return to form” chatter that surrounded their second release in 10 months, following last Fall’s mostly-acoustic Rewind The Film. To the former, given that they’ve been operating as that most conventional of rock configurations — a power trio — for nearly 20 years, each record has had its own distinct identity and to the latter, aside from a couple of missteps — none of which were outright failures — their discography has been overwhelmingly consistent and impressive for having been at it nearly a quarter-century. But the talking point that I did wholly agree with was that Futurology was a barnstorming effort, that stands as one of their very best.
Mogwai / Rave Tapes (Sub Pop)
Both their detractors and boosters will agree that one record from the Scottish post-rock godfathers doesn’t stray too far from the next, but that they continue to create interesting, foreboding, and beautiful soundscapes within the parameters that which is Mogwai. On their eighth studio album, the band’s relatively recent shift to incorporate more synthesized textures into their sound continues to pay dividends while never forgetting that Stuart Braithwaite’s Telecaster stands at the ready and willing to do damage. Also, their just-released Music Industry 3. Fitness Industry 1 EP is ace.
Spoon / They Want My Soul (Loma Vista)
The problem with putting out consistently solid records is that it can diminish expectations. And while I liked Transference just fine, it didn’t make me any more excited about Spoon than I was before. They Want My Soul did. Maybe Britt Daniel’s taking some time away to work on the Divine Fits project made the difference, or maybe it was bringing back with him to Spoon second guitarist Alex Fischel that’s done it, but Soul finds Spoon sounding looser, tighter, more ragged, and soulful than they have in a while, and those are exactly the adjectives that make them a great band.
Tycho / Awake (Ghostly International)
One thing that’s happened in the past year is that I’ve begun listening to electronic music. Like, a lot. Probably still safe and obvious selections by some standards, but for someone who grew up on 3-minute guitar rock, it’s a pretty big transition. Records like Awake make it an easy one, though, being both synth-y enough to open one’s ears to the endless sonic possibilities of oscillators and filters and poppy-melodic enough for the songs to earworm their way into ones heart. And yes, I have bought a synthesizer. And no, I don’t know how to use it. But that’s okay.
