Entry #37: Portishead - Third

 
I could enthuse about this album all day.

Of course, 'Dummy' was a great record, who didn't like that?  To this day, it's the "go-to" album for most Portishead listeners.  The follow up was a bit "meh" (in my ever so humble opinion), but certainly had its moments.

Somewhere around 1997, I watched the entire live set of Portishead at Roseland NYC on TV one evening and was blown away.  This was just before the second album came out, so the set featured a few songs which would've been new at the time.  I was particularly taken by the raw edge of the new numbers like 'Cowboys' and was similarly impressed by the darker live takes on older tracks (the Roseland version of 'Sour Times' still gives me goosebumps and pisses all over the album version).  I took this as a sign of things to come, hastening my excitement for the new album.

Unfortunately, as stated above 'Portishead' was a bit underwhelming for me.  Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad album, but it just felt a little too "safe" and I daresay too polished, especially when compared to the Roseland set.

Then, Portishead disappeared off the face of the earth for almost 10 years.

The wait, however was well and truly worth it because 'Third' ended up being the album I wished 'Portishead' had been.  Gone was the now hackneyed Trip-Hop formula, replaced with a grittier, more textured sound.  These new songs had teeth, incorporating elements of Joy Division, Silver Apples and 60s psychedelia to great effect.  Elements of the old sound still lingered, but it was rougher and dirtier overall.  Floating atop the edgier soundscape was Gibbons' characteristic vocal; plaintive, spent and beautifully forlorn.  I fell in love with the more experimental direction straight away and the album became an instant favourite for me.

'Third' also has what I consider one of the best album closers of all time; the insistence of the forboding, doom-laden guitar drone finale to 'Threads' sounding like the world really is coming to an end.  A cliche perhaps, but never has it been so apt. 

Why this album succeeds for me is that it shows a band not afraid to challenge themselves or rest on their laurels.  They could've quite easily produced another album similar in scope to their previous two, but chose not to repeat themselves, and that counts for a lot in my eyes.

                                                                  Portishead : Threads

Entry #36: Flaming Lips - Transmissions from the Satellite Heart

 
Generally speaking, I don't do "favourites".  What I mean by that is if someone asks me who my favourite bands are, I find it hard to give a definitive answer.  That being said, there are a handful of bands and artists that are certainly up there: Sonic Youth and Bjork come to mind, and a third would be Flaming Lips.

I was first introduced to this band sometime in the early to mid-90s by a guy I later fell out with (long story).  In spite of our interpersonal differences, he was similarly passionate about music and was a huge Flaming Lips fan.  One night he played me 'They Punctured my Yolk' from 'Clouds Taste Metallic' and I was hooked.  It was an immense, epic tune, made even more so by Dave Fridmann's wide, spacious production.  I didn't rush out and buy any of their albums at that point (I was still a metaller then), but I didn't forget what I heard.  A few years later, after metal had already stopped doing it for me, I saw 'She Don't Use Jelly' on MTV, remembered the band and picked up 'Transmissions' on cassette.

Flaming Lips are most fondly remembered for 'Soft Bulletin', the album that followed this one, but for me, 'Transmissions' represented their zenith (though 'Clouds' and 'In a Priest Driven Ambulance' comes very close).  For me, it's a summery, feelgood record.  From the opener 'Turn it On', I'm immediately transported to that place where the sun is shining and everything is good so naturally, that is also when the album sounds best.

                                             Flaming Lips : Pilot Can at the Queer of God

Entry #34: Archers of Loaf vs The Greatest of All Time

 
OK, I know this one isn't an album, it's an EP.  But still, it's my blog so I can bend the rules if I want to!  :P

Either way, I had to include this.

It was sometime in the summer of 1996, I'd dropped out of uni and was living in the town where I'd originally gone to study.  By this point, I was hanging around with a local crowd which included one other guy who'd done the same thing as me a year earlier, and it was this guy who introduced me to this EP.

The two of us were sitting in his flat getting stoned and listening to music.  I was still, to all intents and purposes a metalhead at this point, but that was slowly changing as I began to tire of listening to one genre of music all the time.  And throughout the course of this languid sunny mid-week afternoon, this guy played music that brought me back to my indie/alt-rock years.

"Did you used to listen to Archers of Loaf before?" he asked, referring to my pre-Metal days.

"No, never heard of them," I said.

Then he put on this EP and it blew me away.

Melodic but noisy, aggressive yet measured, it was exactly what I needed to hear to reawaken my former self.  To this day, when I hear this EP, I think of sunlight bleeding into the living room that afternoon, fusing into my mental associations with the music itself.  I think of the energy of opener 'Audiowhore', the goosebumps from the bass chords of its pre-chorus and the sulky 'Freezing Point' that seemed like a musical representation of everything I felt then, but couldn't put into words.  Later that afternoon as I walked home in a buzzed haze, the outro to 'All Hail the Black Market' morphed with the honey hues of the late afternoon, melting away the concrete blandness that framed the cityscape.

So yes, this little EP had quite an effect on me, being just what I needed at just the right time, earning itself a well deserved place here.

                                              Archers of Loaf : All Hail the Black Market

Entry #33: Helium - Magic City

 
Inexplicably, I traversed the 90s without hearing a single note from Helium.  I know for a fact I would've been a fan, but I never even knew they existed, despite liking lots of bands that occupied their musical neighbourhood.

My introduction came by way of a streaming radio app I downloaded to my Wii in 2007.  I was listening to it one afternoon when 'Medusa' came on.  I didn't recognise the song or the artist, but I liked what I heard.  I later bought 'The Dirt of Luck' which I thought was OK.  I played it a few of times then didn't listen to it again for a couple of years.

One of the things I love most about music is how you might listen to something at a certain point in your life and it fails to make much of an impression.  Then later, it resonates more with both who and where you are and it feels like discovering something new all over again.  'The Dirt of Luck' had that effect on me.  The second time around, it was just what I was looking for.

It was around 2011, I'd just discovered Mary Timony's solo works, which renewed my interest in Helium, and that was when I learned of 'Magic City', their second and last album.  What struck me most about 'Magic City' was its depth and versatility.  I consider Timony to be a phenomenal songwriter and guitarist but unfortunately, she is criminally underrated.  I'm also certain that were she a he, this wouldn't be the case, but I digress.

Magic City, as its name would suggest is a truly spellbinding record, and this is in no small part due to Timony's unique songwriting prowess.  Listening to her music, I feel like I'm wandering deeper and deeper into a forest, following some kind of ephemeral phantom; becoming lost and never wanting to be found.  This is why I eagerly consumed the band's entire catalogue (including Timony's fantastic solo albums), but for me, it is Magic City that stands as being the most complete and fully realised work to bear Timony's name. 

2011 was a turbulent year for me in many ways, but this was one of the best things about it, proving once again just how important music can be.

                                                                Helium : Walk Away

Entry #32: Radiohead - Hail to the Thief

 
Radiohead are a band I've always had time for.  With each album, they evolve and grow, and it's a pleasure to watch it unfold.  I must admit, I roll my eyes every time I hear someone bleat on about how 'The Bends' and/or 'OK Computer' were their best albums and how they should return to that sound instead of all the "bleeps and bloops" they do now (yes, people actually say this).

Don't get me wrong, both of those albums were great, but I would've tired of Radiohead's music a long time ago if they'd just kept on rehashing that formula.  And that's what I love about this band; the way they keep it fresh with every album, and you can't help but admire the sheer gall it must've taken for them, at the height of their fame to turn around and throw a curveball like Kid A.  It was a like a complete "Fuck you" to every floppy haired, walking indie cliche on the planet.  A truly beautiful moment.  Weirdly though, I saw it coming.  After OKC, I had a feeling they were going to go in a more experimental and more electronic direction.  To me, the signs were already there.

Two albums following Kid A, we get to 'Hail to the Thief' which I saw as the perfect marriage of  "old" and "new" Radiohead.  I bought HTTT on my birthday back in 2003, it was my birthday gift to myself that year.

I'd recently split up with a girl I'd been with for about 9 months, I was obsessively playing Wario Ware on my Gameboy Advance that I took with me everywhere (still one of my all time favourite games), summer was in full swing and all in all, I was in a good place.  I spent my birthday having a quiet evening in with a good friend of mine playing Super Monkey Ball and GTA 3 and watching Koyannisquatsi for the first time whilst drinking whiskey and getting stoned off our faces.  Of course, none of this has any direct relevance to the album itself.  It almost pained me to write all of that because one of my pet hates in other people's writings is oddly specific details that have nothing to do with the topic.  But with all this superfluous detail, there is an actual point.  I'm trying to provide some context as to how this album fit into my life at the time and what I was doing.  In essence, this album is one of the reasons why that particular birthday was so awesome.  A month or so later, I was dating another woman I'd met at a fancy dress party (she had a thing for guys wearing masks...) and in the months we were together, I'd listen to '...Thief' as I walked to her flat in the evenings, so I got to hear this album a lot, and even to this day, it brings back these memories, reminding me of just how great everything was at that particular time.

Back to the album itself(!),  some have complained that it could do with a bit of editing, but I disagree.  Even the weaker, less developed tracks have their place and help make the album what it is.

Beyond this album, Radiohead have continued to evolve, but 'Hail to the Thief' will always be a standout for me, and one that carries with it a lot of very happy memories.

                                                      Radiohead : Sit Down Stand Up

Entry #31: Sparklehorse - Good Morning Spider

 
Sparklehorse found me in the summer of 2002 when I borrowed 'It's a Wonderful Life' from the library and recorded it to MiniDisc (dirty pirate scum that I was).  Somehow, Mark Linkous' songs spoke to where I was, but I needed more, and that's how I ended up buying this.

Whilst not exactly gloomy, Good Morning Spider is certainly not the most cheerful album you'll ever hear.  Some might find it an odd choice for a summer record, at the time, it made sense.  And no, I wasn't depressed or anything, but I was going through a lot (see my earlier entry for  Source Tags and Codes) and the music from Sparklehorse resonated.  In fact, I'd say this music was probably the reason why I didn't sink into despair - it helped keep me sane in that way that only music can.

GMS is a special album for me for that very reason: the bubble had well and truly burst, my world as I'd always known it was coming to an end and, unbeknownst to me at the time, was slowly being replaced with something more affirming, and this music was there, at the start of my journey.  Around the same time as all of this, I'd just started a new job (after a 6 month stretch of being out of work) and the band I played with was entering what was arguably our most creative and prolific period, so beyond my own inner battles, everything was good.

I struggled trying to decide which song to add to this entry.  I wanted to go for 'Ghost of His Smile'  'Sunshine' (one of my favourite Sparklehorse tracks) or even 'Painbirds', but in truth, 'Happy Man' is the one that best reflects my state of being then.  It gave me goosebumps and became an immediate favourite, in spite of being deliberately "broken" (which I came to understand was the point).   I recall the morning after an awesome party.  I hadn't slept, and on the way home, I detoured through a nearby park, lay on a park bench and listened to this song on my portable CD player, staring up into the clear blue sky.  It felt like a radio broadcast into my very soul as it was at that point in time.  I will never forget the impact that song, and this entire album had on me.

And no, I didn't sleep when I got home that morning.  I had something on a few hours later so I just stayed up, went back out when I was ready and kept going until later on that evening.  A crazy, bittersweet 24 hours, and throughout it all, this unlikely album haunted my ears.

                                           Sparklehorse : Chaos of the Galaxy/Happy Man

Entry #30: Mercury Rev - Boces

I originally bought this album on a whim after hearing about 30 seconds of 'Chasing a Bee' (from the previous record) on MTV's Alternative Nation back in the 90s.  It was enough to convince me that I wanted to hear more by this band, and when I saw 'Boces' going cheap in a record shop, even though the song I remembered wasn't on the album, it didn't stop me from giving it a chance.

Unfortunately, my initial impression of 'Boces' was not favourable, I found it too chaotic and meandering.  I was no stranger to music like this, but I just didn't "get" it.  I played it only a couple of times and kicked myself for wasting money on it.

Fast forward a year or so later, a friend played and let me borrow the first disc 'Yer Self is Steam', where I instantly recognised the aforementioned Rev song that piqued my interest in the band (this is the same friend who got me into Suicide and MBV).  This compelled me to give 'Boces' another chance, at which point, the music I'd previously dismissed now made sense.  Though not as noisy as the debut, 'Boces' presented another dimension to the band, and within the wider context of the preceding album, it now made sense; especially high. ;)

At this point, 'Boces' had grown on me, and all the things I initially disliked about the album were the things I found most charming about it.  I liked it's irreverence, its looseness, the fact that it sounds like the whole thing could fall apart at any minute, but doesn't, and I liked that they sounded like a bunch of strung out acid casualties who tripped so hard they started thinking they were musicians.  It  was also my second time hearing Dave Fridmann's production work (my first time coming via Rev's sister band Flaming Lips).  Even before the album had started to grow on me, I admired the depth and clarity of its production.

So, that summer 'Boces' got played to death.  It also coincided with when I started making my own music, and its idiosyncratic nature helped inform my early lo-fi, 4-track based recordings.  Even now, hearing this album reminds me of that summer of burgeoning home grown musical experiments, PlayStation RPGs and sunshine, and I cannot help but smile.

                                                         Mercury Rev : Trickle Down

Entry #29: Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dream

 
I was absolutely enchanted with the Smashing Pumpkins' music throughout much of the 90s, and it started with this album.  The alt-rock juggernaut was at full pelt and I heard 'Cherub Rock' for the first time on a Saturday morning TV programme here in the UK called 'The Chart Show'. 

Compared to the usual suspects of the time (Nirvana et al) there was something unique about the Pumpkins' brand of alternative music.  The rich, dense guitar sound, the way Corgan's voice floated atop the meticulously layered soundscape (at times,  at odds with the music itself), and the arrangements that were more sophisticated than many of the band's contemporaries.  I was an instant fan.

My teenage self saved up the money from a part time job to buy Siamese Dream on cassette and that summer, I damn near wore the tape out.  A month or so later, I went on holiday to the Caribbean with my parents and bought the tape with me to play on my Walkman.  To this day, Siamese Dream still brings back recollected snippets from the trip, including my holiday romance with a local girl who lived next door to my granddad with whom we stayed. 

Like much of the Pumpkins' music, Siamese Dream helped me navigate the emotional landscape of my latter adolescent years and beyond, earning itself a place in my all-time favourite album rundown, haters be damned.

                                                        Smashing Pumpkins : Hummer

Entry #28: The Knife - Silent Shout

Somehow, this album completely flew under my radar in 2006 when it was first released.  I chanced upon it two years later and I'd be lying if I said I remember how.

'Silent Shout' is an album that grabbed me straight away: darkly atmospheric, stylish and enigmatic, it became something I played repeatedly.

In 2008 I was writing a draft for a story I one day hope to turn into a graphic novel and Silent Shout was hugely inspirational, soundtracking many a session hunched over my laptop's pale glow writing what poured out of me.  Somehow the music provided a measure of indirect influence, the songs shaping and colouring my story in a big way.  Who knows?  You may even get to read it someday, but I digress.

I can think of countless instances from 2008 to 2010 where this album was playing somewhere in the background.  It featured so heavily, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily endeavours (from the mundane to the noteworthy), that there is no way I could compile a something like this and not include it.

                                                               The Knife : Neverland