Although now quite comfortably (actually, is anyone comfortable during The Great Freeze of 2010?) into the next decade, it’s still cool to talk about the last decade of music. And if it’s not cool, then hopefully we get away with being so uncool that we’re actually quite cool. And if that doesn’t happen, then I don’t want to be cool anyway. Where am I? Yes. Albums of the decade. The latest one is written by Morgan Meaker and her choice is Fur and Gold by Bat For Lashes. What follows are her lovely thoughts and words on said album:

FUR AND GOLD – BAT FOR LASHES
As soon I was asked to write about what I thought was the best album of the decade I immediately recalled my current obsession, Bat for Lashes, and her debut album “Fur and Gold”. (Although, as this was released in 2007 I should probably admit to this obsession being slightly more permanent…)
Throughout this album Natasha Kahn’s voice radiates this amazing, etheral, dream like quality that makes me want to cover myself in glitter, put on a cape and dance around the room clapping my hands in time to the unfaltering drum beat that features in “Trophy”, a track which in my personal opinion, is the best of the album.
The eclectic instrumentation really sets this album apart. Within the extensive soundscape can be found pianos, harpsicords, violins, violas, drum machines and hand claps as well as other unusual percussive tools. On top of her refreshing choice of sounds, the originality of her lyrics also define this album as brilliant. Inspired by fairytales and uncertainty it reveals within Kahn an impressive imagination and individuality. Despite the obvious undertones of Bjork and Kate Bush I feel that this is an album which really did something different, a rare occurence for the noughties, a decade which appears to have been dominated by guitar heavy indie as well as generic pop music, loved only by 13 year old girls and the charts.

Another late one here, which I’d like to point out is through no fault of out very prompt guest writer but because I ate so much over the festive period my lap was too round to balance a laptop on. Dom Gourlay, who pens for sites like drownedinsound and contactmusic has been a great help and inspiration to the cock team over our few short years and we’re very pleased to finally be displaying some of his work. So without further ado I’d like to present his top ten records of the decade.

Lists. Dontcha just love ‘em? Come December its that time of year where everyone starts putting together their “Best Ofs”, “Worst Ofs”, “Should Ofs”…you know the drill. Except this time its slightly different as we’re less than a month away from reaching the end of another decade. Indeed its frightening to think that Millennium eve when every pub up and down the land charged extortionate entry prices for a pint of warm lager was ten years ago.

Its also been a fantastic decade for music; too good to be true in many cases. When the good people of Its Not For The Cock… asked me to write a piece on my ten favourite albums of the decade that will forever be known as “the noughties” my initial reaction was “piece of piss”. Then of course the hard work begins, such as trying to cull the final contenders down from an initial shortlist of 150 for starters. “Where are King Adora?” a lonesome voice asks. Apologies are in the post. It may also surprise some that many of this decade’s biggest sellers such as Radiohead, Muse, Oasis, The White Stripes, The Strokes and The Libertines have no place here either. In fact, with the exception of Matt Bellamy and co.’s ‘Origin Of Symmetry’, none of the aforementioned artists even made that top-heavy shortlist, so without further ado, let’s kick off that Top 10 in reverse order, starting with….

10. THE COOPER TEMPLE CLAUSE – See This Through And Leave (Morning Records, 2002). Although initially noticed because of their outrageous mullets haircuts and tight-fitting clothes (this was 2002 don’t forget), their growing reputation was already in overdrive courtesy of several low-key seven-inch releases and a blistering live show that saw them blow the likes of Embrace, My Vitriol and (yes folks, BELIEVE) Muse sky high during six heady months prior to the release of ‘See This Through And Leave’, their debut album. An eclectic mix of noise-rock, pop, beats and abstract electronica, it even spawned the odd hit single or two in ‘Film Maker’ and ‘Who Needs Enemies?’. Sadly, it would also represent the pinnacle of their career as the over-produced follow-up ‘Kick Up The Fire And Let The Flames Break Loose’ failed to ignite their status to the level of many of the peers they’d effortlessly usurped in those early days.

9. BLOC PARTY – Silent Alarm (Wichita, 2005). It’s strange what a difference five years can make. Turn the clock back to December 2004 and this London four-piece were the most eagerly awaited show about to hit town. ‘Silent Alarm”s preceding singles ‘She’s Hearing Voices’, ‘Banquet’ and ‘Helicopter’ only told a small part of the story. The rest was to be unveiled just a few months later in the shape of this Paul Epworth-produced masterpiece that while obviously taking inspiration from many past orators such as Gang Of Four and Wire, also sounded like the freshest, most inspiring slice of post-punk fuelled rock unleashed in years. That it influenced a host of copycats was no fault of its creators; that they subsequently fell into the trap of believing their own hype and released increasingly substandard records ever since sadly is…

8. THE TWILIGHT SAD – Fourteen Autumns And Fifteen Winters (Fat Cat, 2007). Who would have thought that a little village on the outskirts of Glasgow would be the birthplace and inspiration for one of the most dynamic and devastatingly impacted records of the decade? Kilsyth-based four-piece The Twilight Sad were something of an unknown quantity outside their hometown, until a demo of theirs found its way onto Channel 4 Teletext’s ‘Planet Sound’ some two years prior to ‘Fourteen Autumns And Fifteen Winters’ release. Even then, with most of the country’s labels’ fixations split between finding a successor to The Libertines or their post-punk angular take on Bloc Party, The Twilight Sad found themselves largely ignored except for ambitious south coast indie Fat Cat. Although only comprising nine songs in total of which two are mere interludes, ‘Fourteen Autumns…’ sheer intensity sets it apart from anything released under the post-rock/folk banner either before or after, James Graham’s unsettling brogue still sounding as menacing today on the likes of ‘Cold Days From The Birdhouse’ and ‘And She Would Darken The Memory’ as it did back then.

7. AT THE DRIVE-IN – Relationship Of Command (Grand Royal, 2000). For many, the Leeds Festival of 2000 will be remembered as the year Daphne & Celeste found themselves engulfed in a halo of piss and vitriol while Oasis appeared to be in meltdown having just released arguably their worst record to date and seemingly fallen apart onstage during their headline slot. To me, however, that year was my first experience of a term that called itself “emo”; my first encounter with a genuine cross-pollination of all things punk, metal and acerbic college rock. The hyperactive performance from one Cedric Bixler still goes down in legend, but their own hiatus culminating in eventual disintegration ensured their legendary status was created, and ‘Relationship Of Command’, their third and final album, was as fine a parting shot of an epitaph any band could need.

6. PORTISHEAD – Third (Island, 2008). Who says reunions and reformations should be kept away from the recording studio? The Bristol-based trio of Beth Gibbons, Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley may not have written or worked together in eleven years but no one would have noticed as ‘Third’, their (obviously) third studio album outdid both of its predecessors in the most accomplished of fashions. Whereas other notable artists from a similar era (hello The Verve) failed miserably in trying to continue from where they’d last left off, Portishead simply set about achieving what they’d always done best, mapping out the future via a plethora of musical creations that sounded like no others on earth. Take the album’s lead single ‘Machine Gun’ for example. Its almost complete reliance on abrasive, repetitive percussion beats assisted by nothing more than Gibbons’ strained, harrowing vocal stands out as one of the decade’s most defining musical moments. Roll on 2019 for the follow-up I guess…

5. WILD BEASTS – Two Dancers (Domino, 2009). It would be wrong to suggest standards have deteriorated over the course of the decade, and ‘Two Dancers’ by Kendal-cum-Leeds quartet is a perfect example. Recorded over a three-week period at the beginning of the year, ‘Two Dancers’ combined a perfect blend of eccentric, ambiguous and ultimately inventive pop music that not only reinforced pop music as a credible option once more, but also surely acts as a standard bearer well into the next decade.

4. A PLACE TO BURY STRANGERS – A Place To Bury Strangers (Killer Pimp, 2007). The term “noise rock” often found itself mis-interpreted by those more akin to associate it with pretentious and unlistenable symphonies mostly constructed up the anal passages of their creators. However, this self-produced beauty was coming from a different stratosphere entirely. A Place To Bury Strangers’ main driving force Oliver Ackermann had spent most of the previous decade as one-quarter of ubiquitous shoegazers Skywave, but having recently developed his own successful effects pedal sideline ‘Death By Audio’, it was time to engage some of those products amidst his other main passion, making music. What makes this record so unbelievably authentic is that it was initially little more than a collection of demos recorded over a three-year period dispatched around several labels in the hope of a reaction. That Killer Pimp immediately offered to put the songs out as the band’s debut album speaks volumes, a facet Ackermann and his band know all about. Quite possibly the most astounding shoegaze-tinged record since ‘Loveless’. Yes, that good.

3. ARCTIC MONKEYS – Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not (Domino, 2006). The legacy of the Arctic Monkeys exploits on Libertines forums and MySpace will be talked about for many a year. The fact many promoters had them booked to play – yours truly included – and then duly cancel on the back of an unexpected wave of unprecedented success also leaves a less charming taste lingering in the mouth, yet at the same time, who in their right minds could begrudge them the plaudits deservedly received for ‘Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not’, their initial record-breaking foray into album territory. Mixing Alex Turner’s tales of everyday Sheffield life and its assorted characters with a simple but effective musical backdrop that spawned a million tenth-rate imitators nationwide, the Arctic Monkeys place in rock’n'roll’s historical archives was signed, sealed and delivered in one glorious, forty-one minutes encompassing instant.

2. THE ARCADE FIRE – Funeral (Rough Trade, 2005). “Blame Canada!” sang the cast of Southpark at the tail end of the previous decade, no doubt in jest, but one can imagine to the disdain of those North Americans lambasted by Trey Parker and Marc Shamain. One can imagine Win Butler and Regine Chassagne, the husband and wife centrepiece behind The Arcade Fire spitting fury at their television set in anger. The band itself may have only been formed in the early stages of the noughties but already the potential was evident by way of their first eponymous EP, released a year before ‘Funeral’. That their groundbreaking debut album would actually be inspired by several tragedies occurring in the everyday lives of its band members was even more remarkable, particularly as the general musical vibe was of a decidedly upbeat nature. Since the release of ‘Funeral’, many lesser artists have tried and failed to replicate its untouchable demeanour and unwavering spirit. As for the band themselves, ‘Funeral”s 2007 follow-up ‘Neon Bible’ was almost as inspiring in its own way, and having spent almost the entire period since on the road, a third album is pencilled in for 2010. Will it encapsulate this? I’d like to think so but very much doubt it.

1. INTERPOL – Turn On The Bright Lights (Matador, 2002). Released on the 19th August 2002 – a week before my birthday – my girlfriend bought me the best surprise present of the decade; a ticket to go and see Interpol support The Tyde at Nottingham’s Social. Having driven her mad about this band from New York whose EP had landed on my doorstep a few weeks earlier, it was the proverbial next step to go and see them in the flesh if the opportunity ever arose. Thirty minutes later, I’d purchased pretty much the entire merchandise stand, ‘Turn On The Bright Lights’, their inaugural long player included, and ever since rarely a day has gone by without its eleven pieces of elegant beauty featuring at some point. A rarity among records from any generation in that it doesn’t contain one single bad track, from the assured perfection of ‘Untitled’ and the way each instrument effortlessly enters the fray to the pulsating climax of ‘Leif Erikson’, ‘Turn On The Bright Lights’ isn’t just the best record these ears have become accustomed to this past decade, its undoubtedly one of the greatest collections ever made.

Through the magic of internet and science here’s this list as a nice spotify playlist missing a track from Arcade Fire’s Funeral which you should have heard anyway. But if you haven’t, please have a go on Haiti (Live).

]]> http://www.itsnotforthecock.co.uk/2010/01/05/its-not-for-the-cock-its-for-albums-of-the-decade-9/feed/ 0 http://www.itsnotforthecock.co.uk/2010/01/03/its-not-for-the-cock-its-for-album-of-the-decade-8/ http://www.itsnotforthecock.co.uk/2010/01/03/its-not-for-the-cock-its-for-album-of-the-decade-8/#comments Sun, 03 Jan 2010 16:01:11 +0000 Gavin Williams http://www.itsnotforthecock.co.uk/?p=1311

Despite having now turned over to another decade, I don’t think talking about the best albums of the last decade is any less relevant. Here is the latest post in our awe inspiring, earth shattering, truly ground breaking series of posts by guest writers. The album: Panic Prevention. The wonky toothed hero: Jamie T. The writer: Martin Willis.

Right from the off you can tell that Jamie T’s debut album, Panic Prevention, is going to be different; before breaking into the wonderfully raw ‘Brand New Bass Guitar’, Jamie Alexander Treays sets out his gameplan. As he shouts “fucking croissants” in a mock-French accent, Jamie T lodges tongue firmly into cheek, and carries this on throughout the album with dry English humour prevailing, even at the most serious moments. This humour combines with the influences that doubtlessly played their part in the album’s creation (Billy Bragg, Dizzee Rascal, The Libertines, The Clash) to create an album that is quintessentially English. Treays is also one of very few lyricists currently plying their trade in this country that can hold their head up alongside Alex Turner, providing Great British wit that the Great British public (of a certain age, at least) can relate to.

Panic Prevention, while addressing issues both serious and frivolous, is always fun. At times it is raucous and unflinching (‘Operation’, ‘Pacemaker’), and at times moving; songs such as ‘Dry Off Your Cheeks’, ‘Ike and Tina’ and ‘Alicia Quays’ endeavour and succeed in providing both the cloud and the silver lining. Another of these serious notes, ‘Sheila’, alongside the fantastically entertaining ‘If You Got the Money’, show Treays’ ability to write great pop songs, while you can almost hear Mike Skinner cursing Treays in ‘So Lonely was the Ballad’ and ‘Calm Down Dearest’, poignant, thoughtful and, as ever, funny songs that take The Streets’ best moments and respectfully dash off over the horizon with them. Panic Prevention’s best moments, however, come when Jamie ditches his support band and goes it alone; ‘Brand New Bass Guitar’ and ‘Back in the Game’ are unrefined but never scrappy, and provide ample evidence of Treays’ abilities, both as lyricist and entertainer.

The latest album in our best of the decade series is undoubtedly a masterpiece and the way it carved itself an alarmingly unique and powerful corner within music will surely make it one of the most talked about albums for years to come. After its release in 2004, the musical world has taken on a much more epic and grandiose look ever since.  The album is Funeral and the band is Arcade Fire and writing about it today is Mike Gourlay who works for Infected. Infected is a specialist and regional music press and promotions company who are currently looking after- among others- the likes of Interpol, Late of the Pier, Bat For Lashes, Babyshambles and Coldplay.

Anyway, here are Mike Gourlay’s lovely and enthusiastic thoughts on Funeral:

ARCADE FIRE – ‘FUNERAL’

OK it’s an obvious choice, you probably own and love it already and it’ll be overlooked by everyone for something less known (yawn) but here are ten reasons why ‘Funeral’ is without a shadow of a doubt the best album of the decade :

Happy new year!

The latest album of the decade is one released this year and one which has deservedly featured on presumably all the best of 2009 lists you could possibly want to strain your bloodshot eyes at. It is the third studio album by Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest, and is written about here by Sam Travis:

Grizzly Bear- Vekatimest

Maybe it isn’t my favourite album of the past decade, but it has got me listening to it enough recently that I’ve had a tough time remembering what is (In fact a lot of music seems to have drifted away in a folky, grizzly haze). Perfect melodies and harmonies (Two Weeks, Cheerleader) are nicely offset with random eruptions of swirling noise (Southern point, Ready, able). The tight swagger of the rhythm section keeps things ticking along; the moments of melody never sound clichéd, the “left turns” to which the band are prone never sound self-indulgent. Long story short, its just stunning, walking-with-headphones-on-cold-clear-autumn/winter’s-day music. Oh and “Foreground” is as good a closer as anything else I’ve heard, resigned and melancholy, yet strangely uplifting (maybe uplifting is a stretch). Seems like a fitting end to the decade to me.

P.S. Here’s hoping that the jangly piano bit in Southern Point was really supposed to sound like Still D.R.E

I’m not exactly sure of the name of the job our fifth guest writer Simon Morley does at labels Full Time Hobby and Hassle but what he does is to find original and exciting new music and sell it to you people. Basically his job is to love music and without his fine work you wouldn’t be able to go into a shop and buy records by the likes of Tubelord, School Of Seven Bells and White Denim. I’d of been pretty disappointed if none of our guest writers decided to write about Kid A by Radiohead so a huge thanks to Simon for stepping up.

Imagine trying to follow OK Computer. This is the tricky position Radiohead found themselves in by 1998. According to Wikipedia the theme of OK Computer was something to do with a disconnection to the modern world. An accelerated society fueled by advanced capitalism, all that sort of stuff So you’d assume the attention the band had been attracting since ‘Creep’ wouldn’t have helped the band’s already bleak outlook. The mainstream anticipation for the follow up record was huge and most likely reason the band went down the route they did. Rather than build on the sound they’d gradually developed over 3 albums, they deconstructed everything. They started from scratch, adopting a much more electronic and experimental sound palette, sampling lots of their own and other people’s sounds. To me it sounds like a band making an album for themselves, not their record label, not their fans. It’s a big FUCK YOU in the face of commercial music. It says ‘yeah we can write big radio hits, but we don’t want to… we want to do this.’ The fact that Kid A featured no singles or videos suggests it might be a whacked-out-experimental-mind-melting-mess without any songs but it wasn’t. It features some of their best, my favorites being ‘Everything In It’s Right Place’, ‘The National Anthem’ and ‘Idioteteque’.

Also, the artwork is good too innit.

A big thanks to Simon for that. Please check out his work for Hassle and Full Time Hobby.

Aaaaaaaand the fourth album up in our so far successful series of posts, which aims to provide some guest writers a chance to voice their opinions on some of the best albums released this decade, is 2003s ‘Zoo Psychology’ by Ex Models, chosen by Michael M from the band We Are The Physics. The fantastically frantic Scottish punk of WATP can be found here, along with all other relevant information such as alternative media platforms like TWITTER and FACEBOOK and EMAIL  and PAGERS and PIGEON CARRIER INFORMATION…

Anyway, here are Michael’s warm and fuzzy thoughts centred towards Ex Models (thank you Michael!):

ZOO PSYCHOLOGY by EX MODELS
There were a brain-ful of amazing records that came out over the past ten years, and it took me ages to decide on one I figured was my favourite. There were so many I hold quite close to me like Franz Ferdinand’s debut, “Love In The Fascist Brothel” by The Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower, and the Futureheads debut. But, the one record that completely changed my life was “Zoo Psychology” by Ex Models. This was their second album and I’d never heard anything like it before. Like Oingo Boingo and Brainiac and Devo and Talking Heads, all in the one entity, with no knowledge that each of them are there. It yelps and jerks its way through barely twenty minutes of disjointed rhythms and shrieking ring-modulated guitars that sound like someone jamming a pencil into an eye and twisting it. It’s not an easy listen, but I don’t think good records should be – they deserve your attention. It’s noisy, jaggy, rough and neurotic and yet totally danceable. The album itself has a bizarre sense of humour, even some of the riffs seem to be mocking you. It’s short, fast and to the point and, as such, in recent years I’ve decided to live by the rules of Ex Models and apply them to all my life decisions. Essentially, when I’m confused about something, I just stick a ring modulator on it and jerk about, then everything’s much better.

Third up in our albums of the decade series is ‘All Hour Cymbals’ by Yeasayer, kindly picked by Dan Djan. Dan is the bass player in the very good band Fiction (let their spiky little numbers lick your brain here), seems to be a pretty casually successful artist and- along with us at INFTC- organises gigs under the banner of ‘Kids’. Here’s what he has to say: 

Possibly not THE album of the decade, i agree, but personally definitely one of the most important.
Nick, our guitarist, gave me this album around the time I started playing bass for Fiction and it has taught me a lot about how to structure your playing effectively.

‘All Hour Cymbal’ has some of the nicest harmonies ever, rather intriguing sounds and songwriting and with ’2080′ and ‘Forgiveness’ two of my most-played songs of the decade.

I have been told that with their new album they’re going into a more electronica-sounding direction, so I’m very much looking forward to 2010 and ‘Odd Blood’.

So, first up in our hardly original but quite fantastically executed idea of asking various different people to write a piece on one of their favourite albums released in “the noughties” is Choltida Pekanan with ‘They Were Wrong So We Drowned’ by Liars.

Choltida is the editor of the art, music, fashion and photography webzine, www.supersweet.org and these are her lovely thoughts and memories on said album:

*

Liars’ They Were Wrong So We Drowned

I remember when this album first came out, people weren’t used to Liars being… well, Liars. A lot of people thought it was scary; some said it was aggressive. I, on the other hand, thought they were going for the Tim Burton approach and immediately fell in love with it. Yes, it’s a little spooky, but it’s so harmless, cute and very child-like all at once.

I also have the biggest crush on Liars. So much that if we were a band, I really believe we’d be them (or die trying). They’re the kind of band that you can throw anything at, they’ll go for it and come up with the quirkiest results. When they played our Launch Party and Angus slipped “SUPERSWEET” into the lyrics of ‘We Fenced Other Houses With the Bones of Our Own’ and ‘Hold Hands and It Will Happen Anyway’, my heart just melted.

This album, to me, has everything. It tells a story through music, it paints great cinematic pictures with bears and witches running around. And according to Liars, this is also their most political album. I can’t possibly imagine asking for more!

*p.s. Contrary to the perhaps slightly misleading title, this is not the number 1 album of the decade. Oh no, son. It’s simply the one we deemed to post first. Got it? Good.

The Big Pink- A Brief History of Love

 

 

They’ve been picked for the  BBC Sound of 2009 (kind of like winning a lottery ticket to success), have been written about everywhere, wowed a number of festival audiences this summer and now The Big Pink’s debut album is finally with us.

The start of A Brief History of Love, the opening three tracks in particular, is as strong as any you’ll find this year and, with the heady blur between shoegaze and pop, it is exactly what could be hoped for from the album. ‘Too Young To Love’ is a stomping, feedback drenched affair which sums up what is often so bloody fantastic about The Big Pink- it is simultaneously anthemic and highly intimate. Similarly, ‘Dominoes’ is a fully formed, euphoric wave upon the senses. Although it is clearly the most sugar coated, accessible moment on the album and sounds like Kasabian covering Good Charlotte with 90s boy band backing vocals- possibly the lamest ingredients to a song ever- it somehow works perfectly.   

However, unlike other bands who have furrowed an edge of experimentalism into the mainstream with recent albums- Animal Collective and The Horrors for example-, The Big Pink often struggle to maintain the momentum that burns so brightly at the beginning of the album. Where other vaguely similar minded albums may be sparkling affairs with ideas developing song by song, The Big Pink suffer from playing their best cards at the start of the game.

‘Love in Vain’, for example, plods along slowly, the bassline dragging its feet to nowhere in particular, while ‘At War With The Sun’ is a good enough tune- with it’s light headed synths and fuzzy guitars, but it’s near impossible to listen to it without feeling constantly on the verge of hearing the echo of Ian Brown whispering “I don’t have to sell my soul/ He’s already in me”.

Much of the problem is that, especially for a band with such a deliberately fusing of droning rock and dance rhythms, a lot of the songs are neither oddly uplifting nor grindingly downbeat but, instead, exist in a sticky, stagnant quagmire in between. ‘Golden Pendulum’, for example, lacks urgency and innovation and unlike many of the bands that seem to have gone into the influence of their sound- bands like My Bloody Valentine and Spiritualised-  it becomes mind numbing rather than mind blowing.

That’s not to say that the album, as a whole, suffers from this completely. Previous single ‘Velvet’ is an epic, sweeping moment of brilliance which highlights the true majestic potential of the band. ‘Tonight’, meanwhile, lights up the backend of the album with a wobbly, funky swagger and as much as it is instantaneous and catchy, it is also an interesting and vibrant number.

Whittled down considerably and tweaked just a little, A Brief History of Love could be an EP fit to entertain a king (albeit a king into his mind bending, psychedelic noise-gaze) but, as it is, The Big Pink have not quite managed to come up with such a release. While this debut shows the band’s potential to create brilliantly soaring anthems cut up with wailing guitars and stuttering electronic beats, it also highlights the tendency they have to crawl along with little purpose.  The Big Pink surely have a genuinely incredible, exciting and masterful album inside them somewhere but this, unfortunately, isn’t it.