Best of 2000, 20 years later

My friend Aaron Brophy likes to revisit his year-end lists from at least a decade back, and alternately either boast about his amazing, timeless taste, or wonder what the heck he was thinking.

20 years ago I was hired by Philip Bast at the Kitchener-Waterloo Record to write a weekly CD review column. I did that until 2019, reviewing three to six albums a week.

In 2000, I was living in Guelph, working at Exclaim, writing for Eye Weekly, and working on a book called Have Not Been the Same. 

In 2020, I'm writing a book about events 20 years ago, so I've been living in a bit of a time warp.

Here’s the 10 albums I submitted to Eye Weekly’s year-end poll in 2000. Commentary is new.


1. Sarah Harmer – You Were Here (Cold Snap)
A classic record, to this day. I knew that the day I heard it, after buying a copy from her after a show at Ted’s Wrecking Yard on College Street, a copy that was a CD-R with a hand-drawn cover. I was a huge Weeping Tile fan and was thrilled that Harmer finally got her due. Is it the best album of 2000? It’s one of my favourite albums of all time, so there’s that. Will have a lot more to say about this in the book.


2. The Weakerthans – Left and Leaving (G7). O hell yes. I first saw this band a couple of months before this album came out, at Exclaim’s anniversary party, and these songs blew me away. So did songs from 1997’s Fallow, which everyone in the room but me seemed to know by heart. I bought a copy from Soundscapes before my own band played a show at… Ted’s Wrecking Yard. The year 2000 was very much about Ted’s Wrecking Yard for me. I wrote an essay about this album’s anniversary here.


3. Yo La Tengo – And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out (Matador). I listened to this album more in 2020 than I had since the year it came out. That had nothing to do with its anniversary, and everything to do with therapeutic listening during enforced isolation. 

4. Bettie Serveert – Private Suit (Parasol). I have a lot to say about this, one of the most underrated rock records of the last 30 years, and one I revisit annually. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person in the world who feels that way. Wrote about this here.


5. Sleater-Kinney – All Hands on the Bad One (Kill Rock Stars). This isn’t even among my top three favourite S-K records now, but it sure sounded great in 2000—in part because so much other rock music was terrible. “You’re No Rock’n’Roll Fun” still gives me chills. I have never seen this video!

6. PJ Harvey – Stories From the City, Stories From The Sea (Island). I had some kind of hipster hang-up at the time about whether this was the best PJ Harvey record to date or whether it was just the PJ Harvey record you were most likely to put on when other people come over for dinner. Does it matter? Still sounds amazing, top to bottom.


7. Neko Case – Furnace Room Lullaby; Carolyn Mark – Party Girl; The Corn Sisters – The Other Women (Mint). It’s amazing to me that these three albums came out the same year as New Pornographers’ Mass Romantic. I still know every lyric to each of these songs. In the political climate of 2020, I re-latched on to Neko’s “Mood to Burn Bridges.” Feeling disconnected, I found solace in “someone singing my life back to me” in “Guided by Wire.” For 20 years leading up to my midlife crisis, I’ve had a Corn Sisters lyric by Mark in my head: “Is it a groove? Or is it a rut?” In April, I watched an online hootenanny hosted in isolation by the incredibly social Carolyn Mark, during which she played Party Girl’s “Don’t Come Over, Baby.” It was perfect.


8. Crooked Fingers – s/t (Sonic Unyon). Much like Sleater-Kinney, this is nowhere near my favourite album by one of my favourite artists of all time. But again, like Yo La Tengo, this one sounded particularly good in 2020: “Crowned in Chrome,” “New Drink for the Old Drunk,” “Broken Man,” “Black Black Ocean,” “Under Sad Stars”—because it was just that kind of year.

9. Jess Klein – Draw Them Near (Slow River/Ryko). This is the one album on this list where I thought: really? I remember liking it, but I don’t remember loving it and I definitely haven’t listened to it in 20 years. But guess what? It’s pretty great. Really solid songs, great voice, great band. In the same vein as Harmer, but American. 2000 might have been the last year I listened to a lot of roots rock, which is why Klein would have fallen off my radar. She’s still active, and new stuff sounds pretty good.


10. The Gruesomes – Cave In (Tyrant). This might have been the first of my favourite bands from my high school years to reunite and not suck, and so the surprise element no doubt vaulted this onto my top 10. Listening to it now for likely the first time in 20 years, it is a great record, and probably even the Gruesomes’ best. The songs and performances are all killer (and there’s finally a studio version of “You Were Not Using Your Head”). I just don’t listen to garage rock anymore; I barely did in 2000, either. But if you do, and/or if you were ever a Gruesomes fan and have somehow never heard this, I highly recommend it.



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Other favourites I wrote about in my year-end column for the K-W Record:


Asian Dub Foundation – Community Music (London/Polygram). I’d totally forgot this band until two years ago when I wrote a book about the Tragically Hip—which is a weird connection, but I read an article where drummer Johnny Fay talks about rocking this record on the tour bus. It also came to mind when I dug the Melt Yourself Down record this year. In many ways this record sounds either of the moment or incredibly dated, depending on your POV. I still think it sounds great. I had no idea they were still active; they put out a new record this year, and haven’t changed a bit. If Rage Against the Machine can have a revival, this band sure as hell can—and should. It’s not like what they were singing about has improved one iota. 

 

 

Bjork – Selmasongs (Warner). I was in a deep Bjork period of my life. Does this oft-forgotten soundtrack to Dancer in the Dark hold up? Probably much better than the movie, I’m guessing. After hearing about the antagonistic working relationship she had with notorious sadist Lars Von Trier, I reconsidered all portrayals of extreme suffering on film (not the first or last time in my life Bjork changed my worldview). The production is a delightful blend of the digital clicks and cuts she’d soon dive into and the orchestration heard on much of Post. I often forget that in the same year Kid A came out, Thom Yorke duetted with both PJ Harvey and Bjork on their albums, both of which are better than Kid A.

Blue Rodeo – The Days in Between (Warner). I loved this band for about 10 years of my life (1987-97), but have followed only from a respectful distance since. This album was probably the last one I enjoyed—or listened to more than thrice—and revisiting now I can see why. Was this the last time Keelor and Cuddy brought their best work to the band instead of their solo records? Trina Shoemaker’s production brings just the right amount of atmospherics. It sounds great today. Still: best of 2020? This was a nostalgia vote for me.


Deltron 3030 – s/t (75 Ark). The sound of the future? Nope, but definitely the sound of 2000, when Dan the Automator seemed to be everywhere (Gorillaz, Primal Scream, Handsome Boy Modeling School). Del the Funky Homosapien has great flow as always, though I don’t know about this as a concept album: the main appeal for me, then and now, is the music. (And yet: I’ve never listened to the accompanying instrumental album.) Kid Koala features prominently. His own Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is not on this list; it baffled me at the time. Now it’s clear he was charting his own path. I don’t think I’ve listened to a new Dan the Automator record since 2001, though I had a soft spot for his 2006 Mike Patton collab Peeping Tom (which I haven’t listened to since).


DJ Serious – Dim Sum (Sound King). This was a Toronto DJ whose debut featured MCs Brass Munk, D-Sisive, Arcee, Asicks and Lil Jaz. This being Canada, with a woeful hip-hop infrastructure, it came out on the same label that put out rock bands Danko Jones and Bionic and promptly got lost. Musically, it’s on the same wavelength as California’s Quannum crew, a mix of ’80s electro funk and early ’90s jazz-influenced tracks. It was definitely out of step with the Choclair and Kardinal crowd, and is now out of print and unavailable to stream except on this YouTube rip. I’m sure I haven’t listened to this in 20 years; it totally holds up. DJ Serious released a follow-up, Cold Tea, in 2005; I’ve never heard it. His studio output has been silent since.


Steve Earle – Transcendental Blues (Artemis). I don’t think Steve Earle gets enough credit for his five-album run between 1995-2000: Train a Comin’, I Feel Alright, El Corazon, The Mountain and finally this one. It’s flawless. Dozens of killer songs in that run. Where’s the box set? It should be mentioned in the same breath as the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Stevie Wonder, Prince, you name it. He’s released at least nine albums of original material since, but I’ve only paid sporadic attention—maybe because it’s hard to measure up to this, which still sounds fabulous, especially loud. “All of My Life”—what a goddam anthem. “Another Town” is the greatest song the Pogues never wrote (see also: “The Galway Girl”). There’s too many more here to list. I’m not sure Earle’s production skills have ever sounded better. No idea why this wasn’t in my top 10.


International Noise Conspiracy – Survival Sickness (Epitaph). I put “Smash It Up” on so many mix CDs for years, but did I ever like this whole record? None of these other songs sound remotely familiar—although the title track certainly hits home these days. Garage rock was not my thing; I was posing, craving a political rock band so much that I imagined this was this one for me. It wasn’t. Little did I know at the time that this band’s predecessor, Refused, would prove to be so influential on a lot of the aughts’ aggressive music. 

Jurassic 5 – Quality Control (Interscope). I saw this band open for Femi Kuti’s North American debut at the Roxy in New York City in 1999: one of the most unforgettable nights of music in my life. This band was maligned at the time, considered some kind of retro hip-hop Sha Na Na or some bullshit, at the time of Timbaland and Jay-Z, but I loved it. Still do: I’m a sucker for genuine interplay between MCs, which is all but unheard of in this day of one-off collabs. (Quick: try to name one modern rap act with more than two MCs and not named Migos.) Related: Cut Chemist put out a good record a couple of years ago that I only just discovered.


King Cobb Steelie – Mayday (Ryko). One of my favourite bands of the ’90s, for both musical and personal reasons. This was a final bid for glory on Rykodisc, with pop songs and guest vocalists (Michelle McAdorey, Tamara Williamson), before they resurfaced four years later with an indie instrumental album before fading away. Produced by Laika’s Guy Fixsen, Mayday sounds amazing—though definitely dated. There’s something textbook turn-of-the-millenium in the drum machine sounds here, as heard on the title track; it’s a post-triphop groove that was ubiquitous for a while with the KCRW crowd and then vanished. There’s an entirely unnecessary scratch solo (by DJ Serious! see above) on “Below the Stars”—remember when rock bands felt they needed turntable solos to be somehow relevant? “Home” is still a great single, with a synth bass squiggle that now reminds me of Charanjit Singh’s Ten Ragas to a Disco Beat. Weirder moments like “Fast Money Blessing” have aged very well. This is an album ripe for rediscovery—or at least half of it. This band’s discography would be served well by a collection of greatest non-hits. And there have been rumours of a reunion.


Paul Macleod – Close and Play (independent). This one hurts. Paul Macleod was one of the most brilliant performers and songwriters I’ve ever known; he was a staple in the Kitchener-Waterloo and Guelph area, where he was never short a weekly gig. He performed often with Danny Michel, collaborated with the Rheostatics, and joined the Skydiggers as a sideman (at a time when he was writing better songs than they were). He always seemed poised for great things, which never materialized—a common story for hometown heroes everywhere, but I truly believe Macleod was exceptional. This was his first of only three proper studio records that I’m aware of (2007’s Bright Eyes Fade came out on Busted Flat; I’ve never heard 2014’s Gauge). He made it with Hawksley Workman, and it’s full of the same energy Workman brought to his own material as well as early records by John Southworth, Serena Ryder and Tegan and Sara. The songs are perfect Beatle-y pop. Macleod was an amazing singer. But no one heard this record unless you bought it from Macleod at a show. That’s not as big a tragedy as the fact that the Macleod I knew is no longer with us. I only knew him as an acquaintance and have very fond memories; I didn’t know his demons, which eventually took hold of him, hurt someone else, and landed him in court shortly before he died by suicide in 2016. It’s an awful story. I wish I could listen to his music now without thinking about it. I can’t. Hopefully someone can.

Listen to “Cruelty.” I mean, holy shit, what a song. 

 

Or “Giants.” 




New Pornographers – Mass Romantic (Mint). Kind of shocked this didn’t make my top 10, though it was released in November so maybe hadn’t fully sunk in. I was definitely in love with “Letter From an Occupant,” because who wasn’t? I wrote about this anniversary here.

Outkast – Stankonia (BMG). 2000 might have been the last year I felt remotely connected to mainstream hip-hop. I do love Outkast because they’re genre-busters, game-changers and genuinely odd. I also can’t love Outkast because I’m too much of a white Toronto prude. But this album is bloated: way too long, populated by skits, and dragged down by tracks like “We Luv Deez Hoez.” And as much as “B.O.B.” still slams (musically), the chorus is downright gross: “bombs over Baghdad” is not a great metaphor in any context, least of all as a pre-9/11 sentiment for not finishing a fight or not following through on a challenge.

Radiohead – Kid A (EMI). I don’t know that I ever loved this album—but not for the reasons people hated it. I like it just fine. If anything, it wasn’t weird enough. The fact that it was remotely divisive speaks to the intense conservatism of the time. (I’m debating whether I even care enough to read Steven Hyden’s new book about it.) I probably put it on my list so that I wouldn’t seem out of touch. Total posturing on my part.

The Salteens – Short Term Memories (Endearing). This was when I still had great affection for peppy indie pop populated by handclaps, trumpets and bop-ba-da’s. Come to think of it, I was in a band not unlike this one at the time. This Vancouver band had really catchy songs, heavily influenced by Sloan, and a really strong rhythm section. This is a really good record, better than most of its peers other than the New Pornographers. Not one I’d listen to today, though given the chance I’d probably join a band like this in a heartbeat.


Amon Tobin – Supermodified (Ninja Tune). Pretty sure I was a complete poser when I put this on my year-end list. Some of it is great and totally holds up—sexy, even; some of it sounds like a dial-up connection.


Travis – The Man Who (Sony). Woof. Really? I’m glad working for Brave New Waves saved me from becoming a guy who likes Travis.



Records that should be on this list that I got into shortly afterwards:

Belle and Sebastian – Fold Your Hands…

Destroyer – Thief

Be Good Tanyas – Blue Horse

Gonzales – Uber Alles

White Stripes – De Stijl


And Royal City’s At Rush Hour the Cars, made by some good friends of mine, and which I might have left off the list for nepotistic reasons.

Albums I should have appreciated more at the time, relevant to current research:

Dears – End of a Hollywood Bedtime Story

Godspeed You Black Emperor – Lift Your Skinny Fists...

Peaches – The Teaches Of 

 
Album all my friends loved and I still don’t get: 

Blonde Redhead – Melody of Certain Damaged Lemons.

March and April reviews 2018

These reviews ran in the Waterloo Region Record in March and April 2018. 

Cardi B – Invasion of Privacy (Atlantic)

Here’s a question no one thought would need answering in 2018: just how significant is Cardi B’s debut album? Yes, she had one of the biggest singles of 2017 with “Bodak Yellow,” which became the first solo female rap No. 1 hit since Lauryn Hill’s “Doo Wop” back in—whoa, really?—1998. Twenty years after Hill’s debut album topped the charts, Cardi B has now repeated that feat with her own debut—and again, one has to wonder what took so goddam long. Not even Nicki Minaj pulled this off.

Anyone who underestimated Cardi B because of her past—an Instagram star who vaulted to celebrity status on a reality show—is eating crow now. Not just because Invasion of Privacy is such a blockbuster hit right out of the gate, but because it’s really good: Cardi B is a commanding presence on the mic, delivering rags-to-riches tales with a fierce and profane take-no-prisoners approach. Musically, her collaborators—including Toronto’s Boi-1Da—give her plenty to work with, especially on the Latin trap of “I Like It.” For such a huge pop record, Cardi B’s team keeps the grooves ominous and with few, if any, pop hooks to satiate the mildly curious. Whereas Nicki Minaj lost her edge when she awkwardly catered directly to the mainstream, Cardi B is playing by her own rules, sticking to it, and dominating the landscape. (April 20)

Stream: “Get Up 10,” “Bodak Yellow,” “I Like It”

Paul Brandt – The Journey YYC: Volume 1 (Warner)

The most commercially successful Canadian country artist of the last 20 years—if not ever—is nothing if not consistent, and this latest EP shows that he’s still at the top of his game. For whatever reason—because no one listens to albums anymore?—he’s splitting up his latest release into two EPs, which means that the six surefire gems here are bulletproof evidence that this Calgarian is a class act, from his rich voice to his songwriting skills to his ability to match his old-school skills with the demands of modern radio. He’s also generous: many of these songs are about paying respect, whether it’s to the love of his life on “All About Her” or “Slow Down,” or to his audiences on “Thank You, Thank You.” And when he sings about wanting “A Better Country,” he means it: off-stage, his #NotInMyCity campaign targets sex trafficking, and he also advocates for concussion awareness in the rodeo community. Most recently, he was on the CBC dedicating his 2001 song “Small Town and Big Dreams” to the families of Humboldt, Sask. The man is a mensch, and his cavalcade of hits is sure to continue to shine a spotlight on the causes he cherishes. (April 13)

Stream: “All About Her,” “Thank You Thank You,” “Slow Down”

Nels Cline 4 – Currents, Constellations (Blue Note)

Guitarist Nels Cline has an enormous discography, the best known components being his work with Wilco, and most of it being considerably more abrasive and experimental. In 2016, he debuted with venerable jazz label Blue Note for the Lovers album, a sprawling set of beautiful covers of artists ranging from Henry Mancini to Sonic Youth, and everything in between. His second album for the label stems from a guitar duo he formed with Julian Lage in 2014; here, they add a killer rhythm section—bassist Scott Colley (Herbie Hancock, Pat Metheny), drummer Tom Rainey—that allows them even more room to roam. There are more pointy edges here than on Lovers, but just as many lovely passages as well, like the cinematic “As Close as That.” (April 27)

Stream: “Furtive,” “Imperfect 10,” “As Close as That”

Felix Dyotte – Politesses (Coyote)

It’s springtime in Montreal, where the second solo album from this songwriter sounds like rays of sunshine melting the still-remaining snow. (Qualifier: this actually came out in the fall, but its profile in English Canada has been minimal.) Dyotte takes a languid, dreamy approach to French chanson, with thick grooves underneath that wouldn’t be out of a place on a record by Destroyer or Beck. Like a poppier Philippe B or a more esoteric Coeur de Pirate (who shows up to duet on “Croix”), Dyotte is yet another Quebecois artist making some of the loveliest and lush pop music today. Leap over the language barrier and check it out. (April 27)

  

Stream: “Que ce soit toi, que ce soit moi,” “Croix,” “Jeanne”

Thompson Egbo-Egbo – A New Standard (EOne)

How to get noticed as a jazz artist in Canadian media: have an amazing name, throw in nods to John Coltrane, cover a Radiohead song, and have an interesting news hook to boot (in this case, it’s the artist’s philanthropic foundation focusing on education in disadvantaged communities).

Pianist Thompson Egbo-Egbo has more than that, however. Listening to his debut record for EOne, it’s more than obvious that his talent opened up more doors for him than anything else. Those covers—of Radiohead’s “Exit Music for Film,” of the incredibly obvious standard “My Favorite Things,” even a nod to the ’70s Spider-Man theme—are all just red herrings to get the listener in the door. Once there, Egbo-Egbo wows with the delicate dexterity of, yes, Oscar Peterson or any other jazz artist with cross-genre appeal. He’s not showy, either; one of the most impressive tracks here is the gentle “You Must Believe in Spring.” His rhythm section of drummer Jeff Halischuk and bassist Randall Hall are just as impressive as their bandleader; this is a formidable trio.

Now that he has our attention, we’ll be listening for a long time. (March 9)

Stream: “Softly as in a Morning Sunrise Golden Earrings,” “You Must Believe in Spring,” “Favela”

Esmerine – Mechanics of Dominion (Constellation)

This Montreal instrumental group, comprised primarily of members of Godspeed You Black Emperor (Bruce Cawdron) and A Silver Mt. Zion (Rebecca Foon), is usually enthralling, but on their sixth album they prove that they keep getting better as well. Their take on modern chamber music involves fascinating, tiny textures underneath pianos, pizzicato strings and marimbas, with a strong melodic undercurrent to even the most abstract pieces. This is rainy-morning music par excellence, especially when Foon’s cello steps to the forefront, but drummer Jamie Thompson also helps propel some pieces to the epic sweeps of labelmates Do Make Say Think. More than 20 years after Constellation Records began—the history of which was documented in an excellent article in a recent issue of Maisonneuve—Esmerine display how that label’s signature sound has evolved and refined, with one of its strongest releases in years. (April 27)

Stream: “The Space in Between,” “La Penombre,” “La Plume des Armes”

Kacey Musgraves – Golden Hour (Universal)

There’s a reason why Kacey Musgraves gets attention from media outlets that don’t normally cover a lot of contemporary country music. No, it’s not because she’s socially progressive in a conservative context, nor because her music is particularly raw or that far removed from mainstream country radio. First and foremost, Musgraves is a fine songwriter of the highest order, with melodies that match any of Nashville’s most successful production teams.

Central to her appeal, of course, is her no-frills approach. She’s not a showy singer and until now her music has been fairly free of slick production. On Golden Hour, her third album, Musgraves moves closer to the mainstream without compromising what made her special in the first place. Granted, she dips into ’70s soft-rock disco on “High Horse,” and there are some Daft Punk-ish Vocoder backing vocals on “Oh, What a World.” But the woman who met her husband at the Bluebird Café in Nashville generally keeps her arrangements simple and unadorned, regardless of whether or not she’s straying from the country template; “Butterflies” could easily be an Alicia Keys ballad. It’s vintage Musgraves, the way she articulates the comma in the phrase, “You can have your space, cowboy.”

She might claim that, “I ain’t Wonder Woman / I don’t know how to lasso the truth out of you.” But like any great country songwriter, Musgraves speaks truth in volumes, and this is indeed her Golden Hour. (April 13)

Stream: “Slow Burn,” “Love is a Wild Thing,” “Rainbow”

Sting and Shaggy – 44/867 (Universal)

For whom was this record made? For Shaggy fans? For Sting fans? For the two artists themselves, just for a lark? Or is this whole project a way for Sting to recover some of the money he lost in his Broadway show a few years back?

When these two appeared all over the Grammy Awards in February, one had to wonder who got paid off to promote this oddball collab. It’s not at all odd, of course, for Sting to make a reggae record; after all, the Police drew a not insignificant amount of inspiration from Jamaica on their earliest records. It is odd, however, for him to co-write a limp pop song called “44/876,” a song about the international calling codes for Britain and Jamaica. It’s even more odd for him to, on a record that is ripe for parody and ridicule, write a song with the chorus, “My name for you is sad trombone.”

On the one hand, it’s refreshing to hear the normally ultra-serious Sting having fun; there is absolutely no weight of the world bearing down on him here. Shaggy is still capable of reminding us why his ’90s singles were so much fun—but also why he hasn’t had a hit in 15 years. (Nor, for that matter, has Sting.) 44/867 is nowhere near as bad as one might expect, but that doesn’t stop it from being a head-scratcher best left to the dustbins of history. (April 27)

  

Stream: “Waiting for the Break of Day,” “Just One Lifetime,” “Night Shift”

Victime – Mon VR de reve (Michel Records)

The three members of Quebec City no-wave band Victime are not going to be quiet about whatever it is that made them choose their name. Bassist and vocalist Laurence Gauthier-Brown leads her francophone trio through a short, sharp explosion of noise formulated into danceable rock songs on this thrilling EP. Not dissimilar to the band Weaves, but stripped of that group’s pop hooks, Victime are a tiny tornado of creativity who show great promise. (April 27)

Stream: “Fatigue,” “Robot ou humaine,” “Brocher un doigt”

The Weeknd – My Dear Melancholy EP (Universal)

The Weeknd became a huge pop star with “Can’t Feel My Face,” which masked the darkness at the heart of his music since day one: the misanthropy, the misogyny, the fetishization of cocaine (though the song in question was about cocaine, few realized it). Those elements were certainly present on 2015’s Beauty Behind the Madness and 2016’s quick follow-up Starboy, but were somehow overlooked as his celebrity status took off, with Oscar nominations and high-profile lovers. Now he returns to the down-tempo brooding that defined his masterful debut, 2011’s House of Balloons, and it suits him perfectly. The eerie music behind him makes for a much better fit than the pop bangers. He’s still emotionally stunted and wallowing in misery, but there are several signs that his rampant, bitter misogyny is evaporating; at one point on this EP where he repeatedly laments the loss of a lover, the heartbroken singer even promises, “I’ll take my time to learn the way your body functions.” (What a guy!) Elsewhere, of course, he promises to “fuck the pain away,” to borrow a phrase from Peaches to mean something very different than what she intended. Throughout, of course, Abel Tesfaye commands our attention with the one thing that was so compelling right from the beginning: his voice. (April 13)

  

Stream: “Call Out My Name,” “Hurt You,” “Wasted Times”

Charlotte Day Wilson – Stone Woman EP (independent)

  

Wilson is a multi-instrumentalist who runs her own show, including producing and engineering duties. In a male-dominated industry, that’s something she’s justifiably proud of. Too bad, then, that all of these songs—and those on her debut EP—limp along with little life or direction, tilting toward the tedious. Her voice is great, the textures are lovely, the grooves are strong—yet she’s still missing a key ingredient. One hates to challenge the pride of a talented and politically motivated 25-year-old, but maybe the self-described “Stone Woman” who goes to a funeral “just to feel something” would benefit from some collaboration.

The track listing itself sums it all up: “Stone Woman.” “Doubt.” “Nothing New.” “Let You Down.” “Falling Down.” “Funeral.” (March 2)

  

Stream: “Stone Woman,” “Falling Apart,” “Funeral”

Yo La Tengo – There’s a Riot Going On (Matador)

There are most definitely riots going on, but you won’t hear them on the new Yo La Tengo record. On the contrary: this album is meant to be a soothing balm acting as an antidote to the tumult of our times. For a band already prone to dreamy soundscapes—along with guitar skronkfests, free jazz, bossa nova and anything else they put their mind to—this is the most featherweight they’ve ever been, outside of their film soundtrack work. Even the somnambulant 2000 album And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out is a barn-burner next to this.

Only a band this seasoned and in-tune with each other—James McNew has now been in the band for 25 of their 34-year history—could pull off something this seemingly effortless. Songs are barely there, but such is their skill as texturalists that it’s never entirely dull, not even when a track is little more than a wash of sound, somewhere on the spectrum between Brian Eno and Tim Hecker. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, they’ll pull up a catchy little ditty like “Esportes Casual,” which sounds like a jingle for a modern furniture outlet, or “Forever,” which consciously echoes the Flamingos’ “I Only Have Eyes For You.”

This is no means essential listening for Yo La Tengo fans, and even less so for everyone else. But it’s a sign that even on auto-pilot and at low volume and the slowest possible tempos, Yo La Tengo can still hold our attention. (March 16)

Stream: “For You Too,” “What Chance Have I Got,” “Forever”

September 2015 reviews

Highly recommended this month: Couer de Pirate, Lianne La Havas, Robyn & La Bagatelle Magique

Well worth your while: Battles, Tami Neilsen, Peaches, Telekinesis

Also reviewed: Beirut, Concealer, Carly Rae Jepsen, Katie Moore, Yo La Tengo

Reviewed earlier: The Weeknd

As always, the following reviews ran in September in the Waterloo Record.

Battles – La Di Da Di (Warp)

When Battles made their full-length debut back in 2007, they were the rare prog rock band you could dance to, the rare rock band that successfully incorporated innovative electronics, the rare band whose superior technical skill is matched by their ability to engage and form cohesion from chaos. That album also came out at the height of the George W. Bush era, and more than any actual protest music seemed to embody the infuriating zeitgeist.

Eight years later, La Di Da Di is just as effective. In between there was a transition album where they coped with losing an intergral founding member, but here the trio come out swinging—through trippy time signatures, of course, with the monstrous drumming of John Stanier (Helmet, Tomahawk) holding down the kit. Guitarist Ian Williams and bassist Dave Konopka rarely conjure any sounds their instruments are supposed to. Together, it sounds a bit like a heavy metal drummer playing Afrobeat while an Indonesian gamelan band wrestle with a German electronic group on top of him—less entertaining, perhaps, but a fascinating flurry of sound, rhythm and melody that functions far better than you might expect.

These Battles are not lost. (Sept. 17)

Battles play Lee’s Palace on Oct. 1

Download: “FF Bada,” “Summer Simmer,” “Tricentennial”

Beirut – No No No (XL)

Zach Condon is a happier man, and it sounds like it. He’s been making music professional since his late teens, when his debut, 2006’s Gulag Orkestar, became an unlikely underground hit, marrying Eastern European brass melodies to plaintive ukulele folk songs. Ten years down the road, he’s been divorced, collapsed on the road from exhaustion, and about a year decided his creative well had run dry.

Thankfully, that’s not the end of the story. With the help of his bandmates, he started to take himself less seriously and lighten up, and his fifth album is more upbeat, hopeful and playful than anything he’s ever done. There’s more electric piano than accordion, more—wait for it—funk in the backbeat, and rich vocal harmonies backing up Condon’s sad-sack croon. (Sept. 24)

Beirut play the Danforth Music Hall in Toronto on Nov. 13.

Download: “Gibraltar,” “No No No,” “Perth”

Coeur de Pirate – Roses (Dare to Care)

Beatrice Martin is related to neither Swedish hitmaker Max Martin Coldplay’s Chris Martin. But Beatrice, a.k.a. Coeur de Pirate, has just made an album full of songs that those men would kill to have in their own repertoire. The Quebecois artist has sold a million records in her own province and France, and is the only Francophone artist in recent memory to attract any significant notice in English Canada (she sold out Massey Hall in Toronto last year). Now, with her first album of original music featuring songs in English—seven of 10 here—Coeur de Pirate is poised for a major crossover.

Approximately 95 per cent of what you read every week in this column is the entirely subjective opinion of some guy who’s had a pathological addiction to new music for 35 years. But this is an objective fact: Roses is packed with future hits.

Martin is all of 25 years old, but writes like she’s studied Brill Building and Broadway and pop masters for decades. Everything here sounds enormous, Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound updated for 21^st-century fireworks displays. Traces of modern R&B form the rhythm tracks, where Martin nods to her love of The Weeknd (she once covered his “Wicked Game”) and Rihanna (replicating the “Umbrella” beat on “I Don’t Want to Break Your Heart”). Meanwhile, tracks like “Undone” are the kind of stadium pop that Bono has been trying to chase for the last 20 years, the kind that Katy Perry might make if her songs weren’t stuffed with sonic steroids. Even the sparse ballads (“Oceans Brawl,” “Cast Away,” “Tu oublieras mon nom”) boast melodies meant to be sung by thousands in unison.

For many of my favourite Quebecois artists, I can usually understand that their music itself, not just the language, sounds slightly foreign to English Canadians. That’s no excuse this time. (Sept. 3)

Couer de Pirate play the Phoenix in Toronto on Oct. 7.

Download: “Carry On,” “I Don’t Want to Break Your Heart,” “Drapeau blanc”

Concealer - Feted: fetid (Coax)

Cowboy goth? Sure, why not. Edmonton’s Mark Davis and MissMannered call their new project “heavy wave.” Davis comes from a country rock background, having spent the better part of a decade in acclaimed roots band Old Reliable, and with three most excellent solo albums under his belt, all of them as melodic as they are morose. That tone continues here, but synth player Missmannered (Sean Picard) amps up the atmosphere, until it sounds like Townes Van Zandt being produced by the Jesus and Mary Chain.

The duo behind Concealer admit they’re an odd couple. As Davis told the Calgary Herald, “I’m the older, stoic, stay-at-home roots-rock guy, and Sean is more of a young, flamboyant, gay socialite DJ/makeup artist.” But that’s only in person. What we hear here is an entirely natural synthesis, one that finally takes Davis out of the alt-country ghetto where he’s been pigeonholed.

Concealer’s only real fault is that the sonic palette is limited: Davis plays mainly bass and drum machine, Missmannered plays synths, and the tone is—shall we say—consistent, and rather dreary. Davis’s melodies carry the day, however, as they always do. It’s exciting to hear him trying on different clothes, but I hope he throws them in the laundry once in a while. (Sept. 24)

Download: “Horns and Crown,” “Your Master’s Wishes,” “Throw Me to the Lions”

Carly Rae Jepsen – E.MO.TION (Universal)

Guilt free! That’s what Carly Rae Jepsen offers fans of bubblegum who find Katy Perry too tacky, Taylor Swift too cloying. Jepsen scored a massive hit a few years back with “Call Me Maybe,” and here the 30-year-old B.C. singer is out to prove that she has staying power. She most certainly does: there’s at least four or five songs here likely to linger around the charts for the next year, with the help of collaborators Sia, Vampire Weekend, and the producers behind Haim, Solange Knowles and, yes, Katy Perry and Taylor Swift. It’s a sugar rush, and it’s a good one. But the new Robyn EP that dropped last month is a much better bet. (Sept. 10)

Download: “E.MO.TION,” “Run Away With Me,” “Gimmie Love”

Lianne La Havas – Blood (Warner)


“Unstoppable”? You bet. That’s the name of the lead single from this British singer’s second album, produced with predictable class and bombast by Paul Epworth (Adele, Florence and the Machine, U2). On it, she rides a slinky, seductive groove while harps and strings swirl around her and she unleashes her unbelievable voice, a set of pipes that wows everyone within earshot.

This 25-year-old has made a modern R&B record that’s completely out of step: she’s not retro enough to be lumped in with Leon Bridges or Sharon Jones; she’s not weird enough to join Miguel and The Weeknd. Her music is as slick as Sade and delicate as Feist’s Let It Die, but she can belt it out Broadway-style, like Janelle Monae.

Most important, she’s (almost) as fantastic a songwriter as she is a singer. That title track could be the next great James Bond theme (for which Sam Smith has been tapped instead, alas), while the ballad “Wonderful” is one of the most sensual songs in recent memory (“electricity lingers in our fingers”). Mary J. Blige should be covering “Grow” on her next album. R&B and ornamental pop songs are balanced by songs based around just her guitar, while “Never Get Enough” alternates between verses with acoustic guitar playing bossa nova, and heavy choruses rich with distorted vocals and industrial synths.

Is there anything this woman can’t do? No wonder Prince is such a huge and vocal fan. Soon you will be, too. (Sept. 17)

Lianne La Havas plays the Danforth Music Hall in Toronto on Oct. 2.

Download: “Unstoppable,” “Tokyo,” “Wonderful”

Katie Moore – Fooled by the Fun (Club Roll)

Outside of Montreal, where she’s been a musical MVP for a decade now, few people know Katie Moore unless they’ve seen her sing with Socalled’s raucous live show, always go to Pop Montreal every September, are acutely tuned into that city’s roots scene, or closely follow Patrick Watson, Plants and Animals, or the Barr Brothers. To be fair, her heartbreaking voice has always been better than any record on which she’s put her own name—until now.

Fooled by the Fun was recorded live in a studio, and an all-star cast of Montreal musicians—including Socalled on electric piano, which casts a warm and earthy early ’70s vibe over the whole affair—bring the best game to Moore’s songs, which have improved so much over the years that a Tracy Chapman classic (“Baby Can I Hold You”) fits in seamlessly with the original material. Moore’s voice is still the primary selling point, however, a perfect balance of humility and confidence, not unlike Emmylou Harris. Montreal may be a big city, but it’s not big enough to contain a voice like Moore’s. (Sept. 3)

Download: “Talked All Night,” “Leaving,” “Find You Near”

Tami Neilson – Dynamite! (Outside)

The hottest country artist from New Zealand is Canadian. Tami Neilson grew up playing in her family band—that would be the Neilsons—in Canada in the 1990s, before moving to New Zealand to start her adult career. There, she’s won no fewer than five nods for Country Album of the Year at that nation’s equivalent of the Junos or Grammys, among other laurels. This, however, is the first time one of her solo records is getting a Canadian release. It couldn’t possibly be a better introduction.

Nielsen is a throwback; everything here is steeped in ’50s rockabilly and Nashville, and she’s got it down pat: the bare-bones production, the ace band, and a showstopper of a voice that could fill any room without a microphone. Her lyrics might be well-worn tropes—songs about a heart the size of Texas and lipstick on your collar—but the melodies, arrangements, and especially her vocals are all fantastic.

Let’s hope for a 2016 summer tour with Lindi Ortega, to see two of this country’s best belters duke it out. (Sept. 17)

Download: “Walk (Back to Your Arms),” “Dynamite,” “Running to You”

Peaches – Rub (XL)

When this provocative performer debuted with The Teaches of Peaches in 2000, it was a fascinating feminist art project dressed up in a libidinous electro sheen. Yet everything about it seemed destined to be dated: the minimalist production, the songs consisting of little more than one-joke catchphrases, the fact that it arrived in the midst of the short-lived electroclash movement.

And yet: 15 years later, The Teaches of Peaches has just been nominated in the 2000s category for the Polaris Heritage Prize; it remains beloved and respected and influential. That same week, Peaches released this, her fifth album, which proves—six years after her last album, I Feel Cream—that she’s still more than relevant, still pushing herself, still pushing buttons. And still, of course, NSFW.

She’s still tossing off silly jokes like “Dick in the Air” and “Vaginoplasty” (“Catch the whiff coming off my midriff!”), but she also turns up the heat on the title track (“whistleblow my clit”), and gets downright dark on “Free Drink Ticket” and “Dumb F--k,” tracks where her lyrics take more disturbing turns. Even on the lighter tracks, though, her lurid bathhouse soundtrack is always fuelled by an empowered female gaze and increasingly clever—though never subtle—turns of phrase. Part of the reason Peaches continues to endure is that she’s improved as an MC. “Use a thumb, or take a fist / Roll with it, Sisyphus / no hissy fit”; “Take it like a real woman, not Ayn Rand.” Feist and Kim Gordon show up as guests, but Peaches is more than juicy enough on her own. (Sept. 24)

Peaches plays the Phoenix in Toronto on Oct. 20.

Download: “Close Up,” “Dick in the Air,” “Free Drink Ticket”

Robyn & La Bagatelle Magique – Love is Free EP (Universal)

It’s been five long years since Robyn dropped her pure pop masterpiece Body Talk. Her somewhat abstract 2014 EP with Rokysopp was interesting, but the intention was not to deliver any of the club hits she’s known for. Now comes this new collaborative EP, with her touring keyboardist and the Swedish producer Christian Falk, best known for producing the 1994 hit for Neneh Cherry and Youssou N’Dour, “7 Seconds.”

There are five tracks here, each aiming for maximum punch, each designed specifically for the dancefloor. “Got To Work It Out,” with its dabs of Daft Punk and ABBA, could easily have fit onto Body Talk; the title track echoes vintage house and boasts a strange Spanish rap interlude; a previously released, faithful cover of Arthur Russell’s “Tell You (Today)” (it appeared on a Russell tribute album for the Red Hot organization last October) dabbles in jazzy Latino disco with a big brass section. And if Canadian opposition parties were remotely hip, they’d license “Lose Control” for an anti-Harper ad this election season: “If you can’t control it, you just don’t like it.”

The only complaint here is that it’s too short—but with the passing of Falk, who died during recording, this is the last we’ll hear of this trio. He certainly leaves on a high note. (Sept. 3)

Download: “Lose Control,” “Tell You (Today),” “Love is Free”

Telekinesis – Ad Infinitum (Merge)

Practically nobody knows Seattle songwriter and drummer Michael Lerner or his band, Telekinesis; his third album, 2013’s Dormarion, was all but ignored, despite the fact it’s a power-pop masterpiece, the kind that all those people whining about new records by Weezer or Sloan or Ben Folds or Spoon or whomever would be wise to pick up sooner than later.

And so few people will notice or care that Lerner has put his drumsticks down and built a home studio of synths and drum machines. The songs are still there, even if they lack some of the punch of earlier Telekinesis records; you can tell he’s been listening to a lot of Giorgio Moroder and Angelo Badalamenti soundtracks. It’s odd to hear such a great drummer programming Linn drums instead—think of just about any big ’80s hit: “Maniac,” “Take On Me,” “Love is a Battlefield”—but Lerner is clearly out to reinvent himself as a man of many moods, not just a quick sugar rush. (Sept. 17)

Telekinesis plays Toronto’s Horseshoe Tavern on Oct. 25.

Download: “Sylvia,” “In a Future World,” “Farmers Road”

Yo La Tengo – Stuff Like That There (Matador)

This year marks Yo La Tengo’s 30^th year as a band; this album, featuring the return of original guitarist Dave Schramm, is a nod to their 25-year-old album Fakebook, a collection of covers. Of course a band at this stage in their career runs the risk of repeating themselves—and that’s more than the case here. Every one of these songs—by the likes of Hank Williams, The Cure, the Lovin’ Spoonful and obscurities by Antietam, the Parliaments, and the Cosmic Rays—is rendered acoustically, at mostly the same tempo, with the same whispered harmonies. Yo La Tengo have succeeded making full-on mood records before, like 2000’s And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out, but oddly enough they material they choose here—which includes two new songs, and three reworking of earlier material—doesn’t suit the task at hand. It’s all lovely and pleasant, but not particularly revelatory, nor an essential part of their long discography. (Sept. 24)

Yo La Tengo play the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in Toronto on Sept. 30. There is a dinner package catered by Fat Pasha available.

Download: “Somebody’s in Love,” “Friday I’m in Love,” “The Ballad of Red Buckets”