The Top Fifty Favorite Albums Of 2005 - Pt.5

10. Shout Out Louds – Howl Howl Gaff Gaff, (Capitol) 75.05
If you’ve been reading my Top 50 lists for the last few years, you know that I have a certain affection for Scandi-pop. Bands from Sweden really get me going – their blend of 60s proto-punk and proclivity for catchy melody and meaty hooks is second to none. Shout Out Louds, a Stockholm quintet, are the latest in a long line of underrated pop songsmiths. This record is actually a compilation of sorts – culling tracks from various 7” singles, ad hoc recording sessions, and previous Sweden-only full-lengths, but I won’t disqualify them on this technicality. Howl Howl Gaff Gaff is a record full of Scandi-pop-hit after Scandi-pop-hit. Lead Singer, Adam (no last names please) has a familiar but unique voice that delivers the melodies with a strained, but effortless voice (his Swedish accent creeps through more than other groups from his land). The band is at their best when the song is rollicking pop with lots of hooks (see “The Comeback”, ”100 Degrees”, “Please Please Please”, “Hurry Up Let’s Go”, “Shut Your Eyes”), packing their tunes tightly with tons of energy (reminding me of the great Swedish band, The Legends). “Very Loud” is anchored by militaristic-big-beat drums, almost Strokes-like rhythm guitar, and a cacophonic chorus. “Oh Sweetheart” is an endearing country-meets-Merseybeat jaunt with a revolving dynamic. “A Track And A Train” is a bit downtempo with a glorious glockenspiel riff and lovely vocals. Shout Out Louds aren’t all frolicking pop, “Go Sadness” is replete with atmosphere with an ethereal vocal performance; and the closer, “Seagull” wraps itself in repetition and near-psychedelia. But it’s really those rockers with their choruses and hooks that make this record such a wonderful surprise.

09. Andrew Bird – Andrew Bird & The Mysterious Production of Eggs, (Righteous Babe) 77.08
A rich, string-based instrumental opens The Mysterious Production of Eggs, setting the tone in a most melancholic and sublime manner. The following track, “Savoy”, lays an excellent foundation for the rest of the record. Bird’s vocals are as good as ever, a mournful croon akin to Joe Pernice (on his quieter songs), Grant-Lee Phillips, and Mark Kozelek with maybe some early-90s David Byrne in the mix. Bird perfectly combines mellow folk-pop with uptempo pop songs (sometimes within the same track, see “A Nervous Tic Motion Of The Head To The Left” and “Tables & Chairs”). “Fake Palindromes” plays the sweet pop meets disturbing lyrics game (“I want to tie your wrists with leather, and drill a tiny hold into your head") to tremendous effect. Plucked strings and sparse acoustic guitar permeate “Measuring Cups” with a flawless vocal performance with penetrating lyrics, Bird posits - “When you talk about the hand of glory/A tale that’s rather grim and gory/Is it just another children’s story that’s been declawed?” And the record continues in this vein – excellent arrangements, quotable lyrics, and unexpected moments of tenderness, political idealism, and unsettling imagery. Pop isn't always as thought-provoking as this, but Bird songs are for the mind – check out “Masterfade”, “The Naming Of Things”, “MX Missiles”, “Tables & Chairs”. An added bonus: the record’s packaging is the most amazing of the year, artful as the music contained within.

08. Isolee – We Are Monster, (Playhouse) 76.65
Typically, what has become known as “minimal-techno” or “microhouse”, the melodies and beats are sparse, typically downtempo and rarely exhibit a groove. Isolee, who is Rajko Müller, manages to incorporate both into his music – take “Pictureloved” – the tracks opens with the tiniest of house beats until a classic New Order/house beat comes in with a gurgling robotic bass line that plinks-n-plops awkwardly, where the funk comes is the one-one-two beat that jumps up. The track isn’t all robotic minimalism, but it has a groove. “Madchen Mit Hase” grooves along, sashaying down the street, into the club, up to the bar where it orders a goddam martini. If I wanted to be punched in the gut, I’d call this minimal-disco-funk. “Face B” exemplifies all that makes Isolee one of the best electronic acts. The song is so utterly bleak, but so groovy. As I wrote in my songs list: “The mix of a steady beat and oddly placed accents, the application of crescendo-decrescendo, the buried semi-melody, the barely-there vocals all create a track that is so bleak, yet so funky; relaxing as it is tense; cold as death, but full of life.” We Are Monster closes with “Pillowtalk” another track that opens with such cliché microhouse beats I avoided listening to it for months (the track’s length at nearly ten minutes was daunting as well). This track moves forward slowly, but with each movement it picks up layers, steps back, adds a totally different layer, steps back further, returns, picks up where it left off, etc. It’s this process of building, tearing down, and rebuilding that makes the track (and entire record) utterly fascinating and completely listenable.

07. Ash – Meltdown, (Infectious) 73.96
I will admit that Ash’s fifth long player suffers from an incredibly slick production and some really terrible lyrics, and few bonafide duds. To be fair, there are really only four missteps on Meltdown: the overly-produced-disingenuous metal and feeble politics of “Clones”, late-era AC/DC-cheese-metal-meets-Billy-Joel’s-“We Didn’t Start The Fire”-goofiness of “Shockwave” (maybe the worst hook and chorus ever composed by the band), and worst of all, the go-nowhere-fast “Won’t Be Saved”. Still, when the song is there, it is so there. The best track on the record (and one of the best of 2005), “Orpheus”, is the clearest example of this: an insufferable ariba-ariba-howl opens the track as huge metal riffs pummel everything in sight, but once that folly ends, the song enters straight up classic power pop territory. The verses and chorus are as infectious as pop music gets (and the guitar jangle on the chorus is so layered and over-the-top, your mind will be blown). This songwriting excellence enables me to forgive the band for the weird displays of machismo that litter the track (and the record). Even mediocre tracks like “Vampire Love” (which terrible lyrics are barely-redeemed by a great gigantic chorus), “Solace” (a great power ballad), and “On A Wave” (that manages to combine The Who’s “Baba O’Reily”, AC/DC’s “Moneytalks”, and Nirvana’s “On A Plain” into some bizarre power-metal-pop-jam with a killer bridge) have moments of brilliance, basically great hooks and choruses. “Cool It Down” is a great Guns N Roses influenced rocker with a catchy chorus (one of the few tracks where guitarist Charlotte Hatherley’s vocals are able - allowed? - to climb out of the mix). “Renegade Cavalcade” coos-n-kisses then rips-n-snorts on the chorus, and at the two minute mark the track is unrestrained, with Hatherley’s lead guitar squealing like Jimmy Page did on all those Led Zep songs. “Detonator” lays down a filthy metal riff (think The Cult on Sonic Temple) with System of a Down (“Chop Suey”) lead riffs. The chorus is a complete triumph, soaring into the palace of the Gods of Rock with super-id-confidence. Finally, “Starcrossed” is a power ballad (in the vein of “November Rains” and “Faithfully” – and, yes, that’s a good thing – I dare you to deny “Faithfully”!) that is so huge, it puts to shame any band who ever has written (or ever will write) such a song. When that chorus kicks in you have no choice but to sing at the top of your lungs and raise your fist between air guitar jams.

06. Maximo Park – A Certain Trigger, (Warp) 76.70
I love the opening drum fade-in of “Signal And Sign”, the opening track of Maximo Park’s debut full-length, it’s reminiscent of the opening to “Holidays In The Sun”, the opening track of The Sex Pistols, debut (and only proper) full-length. Like “Holidays”, this song is one of the best first-song-side-A tracks ever committed to tape. The track shows all the tricks that the band will play over the next thirty-nine-plus minutes: minimalistic guitar riffs, vintage organ/synth, punchy bass lines, multi-rhythms, group vocals, great big hooks, and those Geordie lead vocals from Paul Smith. This Newcastle quintet doesn’t play a tune too far from The Futureheads, and that may be a bit off-putting to many discerning music listeners. I think it’s more about timing and the bands gigging together (reportedly, they are "friends"). So, yes, this is herky-jerky post-punk with a massive pop sensibility bringing to mind early XTC, The Jam, Wire, etc. But comparisons are rock-write fool’s gold, so I’m done with it. A Certain Trigger has no less than four serious hits: the aforementioned “Signal And Sign”, “Going Missing”, “Apply Some Pressure”, and “Graffiti”. Each is stuffed to the gills with energy, blistering leads, big rhythm (guitars and section), and Smith’s wonderful vocals (which have an uncanny knack for being sung just enough to make them melodic, but talked just enough to make them rock). The songs don’t have the obvious harsh changes that typify most bands of this post-post-punk revival. The songs move, move, move with a raucous killer instinct via the hooks and catchy melodies. The secondary tracks are first-rate: “Postcard Of A Painting”, “The Night I Lost My Head”, “Now I’m All Over The Shop”, and “Kiss You Better”. A Certain Trigger isn’t all jip-tick-jip-tick and dun-dun-dun-jerk-jam, “The Coast Is Always Changing” is a sweet jangle pop and “Acrobat” is a moody spoken word/mournful track, which help break up the same-y vibe of the other tracks. It’s a complete record in every way. Wonderful.

05. Teenage Fanclub – Man made, (PeMA) 77.17
A friend and I were discussing how to deal with records by our all-time favorite bands when it comes to year-end rankings. He was saying that maybe his fanboy tendencies get the best of him when it comes to these late-era records – Are the songs really as good as I think? Am I giving the band too much grace? Can I even be objective? I replied that I don’t think it matters; these lists aren’t that objective, because (as we both admit), one cannot possibly come up with anything near a definitive list. I said that he should rank his all-time favorite band’s record where he thinks it should go. “I mean, that’s what I’m doing with Teenage Fanclub”, I glibly replied. He didn’t offer a response, and when his list was published, his all-time favorite band was absent. Well, as you can see I didn’t follow his course. For this fanboy, 2005 was the Year of Teenage Fanclub: I interviewed Norman Blake and had the story published in Bandoppler magazine, saw them play two shows (one in Chicago and one in Minneapolis), and they gave me one of the greatest records of the year. Fanboy aside, you cannot deny the pure pop songwriting domination here. Man made has the “original” TFC lineup back together (drummer Francis McDonald rejoins guitarists Blake and Raymond McGinley, and bassist Gerard Love), and the results are amazing. Every song on the record is an example of incredibly great songcraft (well, except the nowhwere, “Nowhere” and the can’t-put-my-finger-on-what’s-wrong-with-it “Save”). There are Blake’s songs: the gradual rocker “It’s All In My Mind”, the pure mid-80s jangle pop/60s Nuggets vibe “Cells” and the most classic-styled TFC track “Slow Fade” – a rocker that would have worked well on 1995’s Grand Prix. Then you have McGinley: the piano and fuzzed out guitar love song “Feel” and the amazingly beautiful and stirring “Only With You” (one of the best songs on the record). Love’s contributions: the slow-burn-rocker “Time Stops”, the brilliant-dynamic-laden “Fallen Leaves” (one of the best hooks and choruses on the record) and the 60s-drenched “Born Under A Good Sign”. The amazing thing about Teenage Fanclub is how each songwriter continues to write such well-crafted songs. They don’t seem to losing the proverbial “it” that many bands do late in their rock n roll life.

04. The New Pornographers – Twin Cinema, (Matador) 77.64
I don’t know if it’s just me, but it seems the Carl Newman and his band, The New Pornographers, are incapable of receiving any bad press. Newman is widely hailed as a songwriting genius (because he is), and no one has an ill word towards the bands records (none of which deserves). When Mass Romantic was released in 2000, the indie illuminati smartly jumped on right quick. Now, even the mainstream media has joined in the New Porno lurv. StarTribune (the Minneapois daily) junior critic Chris Riemenschneider has sung their praises, “Use It” became a staple on Minneapolis commercial alternative radio/Triple A station Drive 105 and indie-friendly-public-radio-station 89.3 The Current, and they were positively reviewed in nearly every publication from Pitchfork to Entertainment Weekly to GQ. I’m not complaining (honestly), the band deserves it, even though it’s for their weakest record. You know what songs I love on Twin Cinema; yeah, they are the obvious ones (“Use It”, “Sing Me Spanish Techno”, “Jackie, Dressed In Cobras”, “Star Bodies”). Let’s look at the surprises – and thus, the reason I kept listening. “The Bones Of An Idol” is a difficult track – perhaps because there is so much going on; a pretty standard piano line, tinkling glockenspiel, the prominence of slide guitar, a simple electric guitar lead, the non-chorus, but the hook is indisputable. In many ways, the song seems incomplete; maybe the hook is the key to understanding the track: “Something keeps turning us on” – there is an intangible, uniqueness about this song that kept me listening and turning it up. “Jackie, Dressed In Cobras” is the obvious Dan Bejar (Destroyer) track, but he actually has two that are better: “Broken Beads” and “Streets Of Fire”. The former is absolutely bizarre – big huge riffs careening down on the verses, then the chorus comes in and it’s like some weird medieval-Bowie-indie-pop jaunt (it doesn’t help that he mentions “minstrels”). The lyrics are so odd and I’m not sure of a meaning (this can be slippery when it comes to Bejar). The words are so absurd, yet work perfectly (“Who was I to come between a whore and her money/Yes there is a war/Boys vs. Girls” and (the second best lyric of 2005) “I invested well and heavily into your antics/I requested ‘Suicide Blonde’ [pause] loudly.” The song is one his best. That is until we get to “Streets of Fire” – a wonderful duet of Bejar and Kathryn Calder (I believe that the female vocals are not Neko Case, but could be Nora O’Connor) with Bejar delivering one of his best vocal performances (in or out of the New Pornos). The juxtaposition of Calder’s (?) sweet vocals with Bejar’s prickly tenor is stunning. The song was criminally overlooked by critics and fans. I think it’s because it should have been the record’s closing track – it’s so obvious – with the mid-track musical swell and its riding-off-into-the-sunset coda. On Twin Cinema, the arrangements are as interesting as ever, the hooks are all over the place, and the songs are still simply top-shelf.

03. The Mountain Goats – The Sunset Tree, (4AD) 77.39
John Darnielle’s records always seem more like musical novels to me. Every song is seemingly dependent upon the other, and The Sunset Tree totally exemplifies this. Darnielle has an exceptional ability to craft real songs around his lyrics. For most it comes to the words, first, music second. For me, if the songs aren’t there, I don’t care how literary the lyrics, I’m not going to listen. These songs could be simple neo-folkie jams on acoustic guitar or an aging upright piano, but they aren’t. The arrangements are terrific – adding layers of electronic noise, harmonics, and/or other instrumentation – he even can go all out pop (see “This Year”) or rock (see “Lion’s Teeth”). He has the ability to choose the right instrument for the right words (constantly adapting the volume of his guitar strums, for example). Having the songs to back up the words makes this record that much more remarkable. The Sunset Tree is a personal record (apparently the first time Darnielle’s gone completely autobiographical?), a memoir of growing up with an abusive stepfather with all the teen angst and rebellion, the feelings of alienation and betrayal, the confusion of being hurt by someone who should have protected (interestingly, Darnielle says little about his mother’s role in this personal hell), and, eventually, renewal. It can get quite uncomfortable (see “Lion’s Teeth” – an extraordinary tale of fighting back – and “Hast Thou Considered The Tetrapod” – accepting the inevitability of the abuse and the darkness of taking the pain, like “get it over with, just don’t break what I value (his stereo”). He finds consistent comfort in his record collection (on “Lion’s Teeth” he has more concern about his record player than his face as punching bag and on “Dance Music” he escapes his stepfather’s tirades by running to his room to listen to “dance music”). The Sunset Tree exudes a balance, when he could go all emo, he restrains it, further proving the power of his narrative; which is surprising given the subject matter. “Broom People” finds him a teenager, seemingly alone (“friends who don’t have a clue” and “well-meaning teachers”) except for a lover-friend who is his solace (“In the long tresses of your hair, I’m a babbling broooooook”). “This Year” is an extension of “Broom People” with the rebellion of “twin high maintenance machines” (for more on “This Year” see #26 on my Top Songs list). “Up The Wolves” is his fantasy of exposing the terrible family secret, rightly accusing his mother of being absent, and ensuring that “the wolf” will have no escape by taking over all in authority to ensure justice is done. It’s bloodlust and it’s vindication. When he fatalistically contemplates the horror, inevitability (and relief – the pain will end) of his own death on “Song For Dennis Brown”, Darnielle doesn’t go Conor Oberst; he gets Kozelek. The real corker of the entire record is the closing song, “Pale Green Things” when, years later, he learns his stepfather has died. It’s not that the door closes on these memories/stories of the pain, resentment, anger, and self-loathing (they will never disappear), but through death the chance to heal manifests itself. This record is an achingly real document of abuse and the lifelong affect it has on a person. I thank John Darnielle for this record.

02. Art Brut – Bang Bang Rock N Roll, (Fierce Panda) 77.33
Much has been (and/or can be) said about Art Brut, but one thing I read somewhere (that I can’t find, so I can’t quote the source) said something like, “You either love ‘em or hate ‘em.” Uh huh. Bang Bang Rock N Roll is probably one of the snarkiest and silliest, ironic and inspirational records to come out in years. “Formed A Band” (a white-hot jam) opens the record with a giant punk rock riff as lead singer, Eddie Argos, launches into his rant-sing-rage (while some make a comparison to the Fall, it really doesn’t apply as Argos’ delivery is too coherent, his words are too literal to be compared to the mystery and the post-modern-apolyptic-culture-criticism-poetry of MES), “Formed a band! We formed a band! Look at us! We formed a band” – the implication is perfectly clear and you know exactly what the fuck they mean. “Modern Art” is cheeky, but a complete fanboy anthem on how much our singer loves modern art. “Bang Bang Rock N Roll” is chock full with lyrical insanity that will set any discerning music listener into an argument (“I can’t stand the sound of The Velvet Underground” and “I just want to find a drug that works” then “No more songs about sex and drugs and rock n roll/It’s boooooring”). The punk ranting continues on “Bad Weekend” where Argos claims he doesn’t read NME (“I don’t know what genre we belong” and “Popular culture, no longer applies to me” – yeah right, but that’s the point right?). If the entire of this record were made up of snarky ironic indiot bullshit, it probably would’ve been too much. It’s the moments of, oh my god – should I even say this … tenderness and innocence that strike an odd sort of balance (and I suppose uber-ironic). The stellar pop jaunt of “Emily Kane” is absolutely sweet and real (I especially love the Frank-the-Man-Sized-Rabbit way he relates the time since he last saw his long-lost-love of how long it’s been since he last saw his long-lost love). “My Little Brother” is a great tale about Argos’ sibling becoming a music geek (“He no longer listens to a-sides/He made me a tape of bootleg and b-sides”). The most eye-opening line comes when he relates how every song on the mixtape says, “Why don’t our parents worry about us?” What the hell is that? “Good Weekend”, one of the best songs on the record (hooky as hell, and it just moves), is an absolutely fucking adorable way to express the excitement of having a brand new girlfriend. It may be more than a bit high-school-ish, but there is something entirely refreshing in the youth and exuberance and, even, naivety. The songwriting is simple (this is straight up three-chord punk or late-70s pub-rock) and there are a few underwhelming tunes, but these weren’t enough to keep me from spinning Art Brut like mad all year.

01. The Hold Steady – Separation Sunday, (Frenchkiss) 76.36
Minneapolis-to-NYC transplant Craig Finn perfectly captures late-80s Minneapolis/Minnesota teenage life, so the nostalgia I experience with each listen is undeniable (oh Lord, how I wish you would squah those damn annoying-richie-rich Hornets from Edina!!). Because I grew up in Minnesota and now live in Minneapolis, all the name dropping of landmarks and locales across the Metro (Highway 169, Nicollet, Har Mar, Stillwater, buses, City Center, the Mississippi River, Lowerton, etc. etc.) makes me feel like I’m in on the story. The music, really this is classic bar-rock with all the schlock (and Finn’s band is one of the best out there – they are completely a band executing the songs with an amazing tightness considering they play with intensity and viciousness), plays off the words and vice versa. Finn’s raspy-talk-sing delivery fits everything perfectly. But it’s more than Minneapolis and a platinum band that makes me so giddy. It’s the storytelling. Each song is a short-story wit captivating and real characters that taken as a whole perfectly encapsulate conflict of late-teen life, yet there's a certain universality (regardless of turning 16 or turning 30) because the struggle is about relationships, substances, religion, and confusion. Still, this is the stuff of after-school specials or made-for-teen-dramas, except Separation Sunday approaches these topics with much more realism and honesty. The record is the ultimate album, because it demands to be played starting at track one and not stopping until the last note of track eleven. Naturally, a record wouldn’t hit number one on my countdown if it didn’t have the songs. “Hornets! Hornets!” is the perfect track to open the record – a raunchy rocker that introduces the hoodrats, the irrational behavior, the alienation and the camaraderie. In “Banging Camp” (a seriously amazing tune), I love the line, “Holly wore a cross to ward them off” – I, being a youth group kid who was fully confused (Am I going to hell for continuing to sin? Or will the blood of the cross wash me clean and I gain admittance to heaven?), knew that if I expressed my faith outwardly it would keep the youth leaders and pastors off my back while I attempted to sort things out on my own. “Stevie Nix” reflects the fact that whatever path you take on a faith journey, the reality of life will smack you upside the head (kids will tell lies in the hallways on Monday morning, religion and people and drugs will fuck you up, sorting out life is always confusing). “Multitude of Casualties” is propelled not so much by the guitar riffs, but a wonderfully pretty keyboard line, and the lyrics are litany of heartbreak and life’s injustice. “Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night” is a terrific Stones-y rocker that is an incendiary commentary on religion and art. Finn spits, “We gather our gospels from gossip and bar talk and we declare ‘em the truth/We salvage our sermons from message boards and scene reports/We come on to the youth/We try out new testaments on the guys sitting next to us in the bars …” Actually, there are a hundred other lyrics that are quotable. The closer is an amazing coda that closes the record in happy tragedy: “Hallelujah was a hoodrat/And now you finally know that/She’s been disappeared for years/Today she finally came back” and then you have the female backing vocals singing, “Walk on back, Walk on back” as the song crescendos to a close with that keyboard line from “Multitude of Casualties”. The Hold Steady are one of the few bands who have merged rock music and literature.

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