Summertime Blues, News, and Reviews: Yearly Wrap-Up Jobbie

The holidays have finally ended. I got a lot of candles.

But this is not about me. This is about the music.

I’ve mentioned this before — 2005 was a great year for music. If you dig the genres I dig, anyway. Things sure seem stale in the hip hop/R&B universe. I only say that as an observer from afar and as a white girl who once listened to the last Kanye West album, but whatever. I know I’m not the only one who senses a complete and total lull in innovation. For f*ck’s sake, Mariah Carey was nominated for a ton of awards. I listened to that album 15 times. Aside from a couple of songs, it’s completely bland.

Soapbox? Me? No wai.

Anyway, here’s a big ol’ list of records I dug this year. Some of this was pretty obvious if you read any of the reviews I wrote, although a lot of them aren’t so obvious because I got lazy and didn’t write any reviews for a while. Eh, they keep me around anyway. Even when I currently have only very limited Internet access and won’t be able to do jack squat until after I move in February.

I’m totally getting bloggy again. Time to stop that and time to write about funmusics.

James LaBrie: Elements of Persuasion

Imagine, if you will, a girl who loves Dream Theater. In this year, the vocalist from the band releases a solo disc and the band releases a new album. This should be the golden stellar year, right? Sadly, DT’s Octavarium was less than thrilling and quickly took a backseat to other discs in my collection. However, the surprise was LaBrie’s solo disc, which embodied most of the elements I wanted to see on the DT album. It was heavier than DT, more hook-laden than DT, angrier than DT, and far more interesting than DT. Oh, sure, there were some terrible lyrics on the album, but the DT disc was far worse in that regard.

Even with its release being back in April, I still throw this disc into my car from time to time. Considering how many new albums I acquire, it’s rare for me to be listening to something that isn’t current and desperately in need of reviewing. So hats off to you, Kevin James, for doing something nifty if not totally under the radar.

Madonna: Confessions On a Dance Floor

When I first got this album, all I could think to myself was, “oh my GOD these lyrics are TERRIBLE.” And yeah, they are. Not any worse than the rap in “American Life,” but pretty damned bad. “I Love New York” sounds like it was written by a second-grader. And “Future Lovers” is just plain retarded — every time I hear Madonna cooing, “would you like to try?” I absolutely cringe. What’s wrong with her “tr” sounds? Why does it sound so goofy? Am I the only one who is really bothered by this?

But aside from those glaring problems — and the song “Isaac” that damn near got her tossed out by her Kabbalah compadres, which was totally not worth it because the song is awful — it’s one hell of an amazing dance album. It always amazes me how Madonna can find these incredible beats that are fresh and fascinating, yet the rest of the genre has long been recycling. It’s not like Madonna is the one sitting behind the synths. Does she have a magical dance juice that she sprinkles on her collaborators? I don’t think I’ll look too deeply into it and just enjoy the radness, because once I start looking a gift horse in the mouth… OMG DANGER.

The Old Dead Tree: The Perpetual Motion

Hello, this is Gloomchen the metal girl back in the hizzouse. So this merry band of rogues from the northern frosty lands records an album and nobody journeys to the land of vikings to discover it. Eh, it happens. Hell, I only discovered their existence through a serious of completely random acts. But that discovery was after the release of their last album — not that I didn’t have to stumble around to find their latest.

I believe it’s a concept album. It plays like a concept album, with all tracks bleeding into one another. None of this is of any consequence to myself, however, as I just plain like the stuff they do. If you’re a fan of the American Euro-copy metal movement (see also: Shadows Fall, Lamb of God), you may like the actual European thing. Clean vocals mixed with growls, heavy mixed with ornate, et cetera. The vocalist sounds a hell of a lot like Maynard from Tool. The music itself is borderline prog, very serious in nature yet always focusing on the whole “metal” thing. It’s a little bit different from the rest of the pack, and that’s what makes me recommend it so highly.

The White Stripes: Get Behind Me Satan

Oh sure, the last disc was better. Whatever. There’s not a lot out there in that goofy garage-rock pseudo-genre that sounds any sort of innovative aside from Jack and Meg. I’m not even really a fan of them at all, so for me to give them such high praise really deserves notice. I don’t know that I have a whole lot else to say that I haven’t said before about this album, but I do know that “My Doorbell” causes much amusement in karaoke, if only because people know the chorus but totally blank on the verses.

The Project Hate MCMXCIX: Armageddon March Eternal

KENTH IS MY FRIEND SO I WILL PUT THEM HERE

Nonsense. Actually, the reason why this disc made the list is because, well, it’s f*cking good. I don’t kowtow, okay? Anyway, after their last effort’s mournful mourning, the gang came back with one hell of a kick in the nuts. “Godslaughtering Murder Machine” was my ringtone for a while, and is also the name of the computer server being built for my apartment-to-be. In other words, it makes with the happy.

Really, if any of you out there are metal fans of any type and haven’t checked out TPH, you’re seriously missing out. Soaring female vocals, some of the most succinct growling out there, crushing rhythms, and a good dose of techno. There is simply nothing else out there like them, which is a shame aside from the fact that I don’t know anyone else that could do it better.

Nine Inch Nails: With Teeth

Well howdy, Trent Reznor is getting older. I don’t know why so many of his devout fans thought he was going to make The Downward Spiral Part Two at any point, but apparently that’s the sole standard used to measure anything he plunks out anymore. Sorry, people: artists grow and mature. Sometimes it’s for the better (see: Slipknot), sometimes it’s for the worse (see: way too many bands to list). After months of release, I still feel this is a case of the former.

Some of the sounds are stripped down from Reznor’s signature ornate layers — hell, some are downright minimalist. Other sounds seem nearly ripped out of whatever the hell rock is popular on the radio. And still others simply seem baffling in their selection. However, it’s that element of uniqueness that keeps this album from being stale. Never mind that The Rez is getting older, bathes in money, and doesn’t have nearly as much angst as he had in days of old. Let the man grow up and create something more suited to his artistic urges. If you’re going to complain that there is no “Closer,” kindly shut the f*ck up and go listen to your old 1994 albums in the corner while the rest of us advance along with the rest of society.

Was that harsh? I hope so.

Beck: Guero

Oh Beck, it has been far too long since you made a truly awesome and fun disc. So many people pretended to like Midnite Vultures but let’s face it, it was pretty lame. Sea Change was all super-mature and sleepymaking for those who loved the old Beck fun heyday. Not saying it was bad, because it wasn’t. It just wasn’t that side of Beck that makes us laugh and play like schoolkids.

Enter Guero, the disc that as far as I’m concerned saved Beck’s ass in terms of keeping around some remnants of his old Odelay fanbase. Even though it’s replete with dark themes, the music is fun. Some of the songs are downright silly. We knew he had it in him, although he’s definitely grown and turned the fun stuff from more than just fun to true art. And, yeah, most of his old fans have moved on to other crap. But for those of us waiting for him to do something noteworthy again in the world of rock? Thank you, Mr. Hansen. This was very cool of you.

Soilwork: Stabbing the Drama

I didn’t think I was ever going to take this disc out of rotation. I love you, Sweden. Come to think of it, there certainly is a lot of Sweden on my list this year. Maybe because I’m part Swedish, it just speaks to my inner viking.

I really don’t know what all there is to say at this point. Intricate, somewhat progressive, extremely heavy, chock full of everything I have ever loved about metal. Blah blah blah. Just another pile of awesomeness to toss on the pile. Really, that’s all I can reiterate: it’s good stuff.

Opeth: Ghost Reveries

HANDS DOWN the best metal album this year. Period. There was none higher.

Opeth has progressed a lot over the years from blandness to sleepiness to whatever the hell you would call them now. Still deathy, still with prettiness. There simply aren’t melodies in metal these days like you will find in Opeth’s music. Amazing vocals, more riffs than you can shake a stick at, and every time I turn around I hear something new and ear-catching. It’s one of those albums that makes a good tingle down there.

Yeah. It’s not often that I am absolutely blown away by an album, but this one nailed it. The only problem I had was that it was released just about the same time as the TPH disc and my CD player had to wrestle between the two albums for quite a while. Still, wow. Every time I hear the disc — even now as I still have it in constant rotation — I am blown away. If I haven’t talked it up enough yet to at least make you curious, then I have failed. If not, then do one of those Google video searches and check out “The Grand Conjuration.” It will give you a taste that will make you absolutely starved for more.

Combichrist: Everybody Hates You

Stompy stompy stompy stompy. I’ve been somewhat of a closet rivethead since around 1998 or so. I own a lot of German-language music. Still, after a lackluster few years of the genre, I focused mostly on metal. And it wasn’t until I stumbled back into a crowd that were aficianados of industrial that I came back to see if anything had gotten better.

BOY HOWDY IT DID! Back on an upward wave, yes we are.

I had no clue who this Combichrist character was until a man who was not then yet my boyfriend sent me a couple of songs on a couple of mix CDs. He later took me to a show where he was performing. And then I snagged the album. Man, it’s so much fun. Lyrics that are so completely over-the-top in obnoxiousness and violence, some of the hardest and most vicious beats I’ve heard in a long time, and not an ounce of it lets up for the entire duration of the album. It makes me giggle and it makes me want to jump around. And this is a girl who does not dance. How neat.

System of a Down: Hypnotize

Well, first we were treated to Mesmerize, and it was sort of so-so. I mean, sure, “BYOB” was amusing and fun. And there were a few other tracks scattered here and there that weren’t too bad. But mostly, it was just a mess. Too short, too boring, too stale. It sounded a lot like the garbage that should’ve been scrapped which eventually became Steal This Album. A disappointment, surely. Maybe it was a big set-up for Hypnotize.

I was never a tremendously huge SOAD fan by any stretch, but I liked a song here and there. However, Hypnotize hasn’t left my playlist since I got it. I’m absolutely captivated by the completely bizarre nature of most of the album. So much of it is so left-field and out-of-place that at first it appears to be a train wreck; however, the more one listens, the more everything seems to fit together in its own odd little way. This might be the most angry and political album ever created that does little other than make me giggle like crazy.

Depeche Mode: Playing The Angel

If Opeth was the best metal album of the year, Depeche Mode released the best pop album. I guess you could call it pop, anyway. It’s not rock, it’s not techno, it’s not “alternative,” it’s just Depeche Mode’s signature dance-y dark stuff. Which is to say that’s not very “pop” at all. Oh, what the hell ever. Playing the Angel is by far the most amazing disc of the year. Especially after their fanbase seemed to have given up on them after the blah Exciter and lots of downtime.

What we’re treated to with this release is a return to form coupled with some daring elements that nearly all seem to work. They get noisy. They get industrial. They get rock-n-roll. They get lofty. Yet at no time do they ever not sound like Depeche Mode out of place. “John the Revelator” might very well be the best thing they’ve created in well over a decade. We’ll just pretend “Macrovision” doesn’t exist (although it doesn’t irritate me as badly as when I first heard it) and smile really, really big that these stalwarts of dark pop have not failed to keep the music and the spirit from dying.

So that’s the best of the year.

Some booby prizes:

To Fiona Apple, the “Best Pseudo-Drama Hyping a Truly Mediocre Release” award. Oh noes, Sony won’t release her album! Artists everywhere are doomed to censure! Let her music go! Let Fiona Apple be Fiona Apple! So the demos are leaked, and they’re, well, they’re interesting I guess. Eventually, the girl concedes that the label was not holding her disc hostage. She could have refuted this all along, but chose to let the drama build. So, with her bloodthirsty fanbase aching for Extraordinary Machine, it finally hits the shelves. And it’s… well, interesting, but neither memorable nor worth the wait. It seems the girl wants to make showtunes. You go for that, girl, and stop with the melodramatic crap.

To Scott Stapp, the “This is My SOLO Disc, NOT MY BAND’S DISC, I SWEAR TO YOU IT IS DIFFERENT” award. Well, I guess you could tell it wasn’t a Creed album, because nobody was around to keep the ego in check. What we were all treated to was an album so self-aggrandizing that even Axl Rose had to say, “dude, maybe it should be all about the music.” But other than that, every other song was just as bland and flavorless as every other Creed song made after the first album. One blends into another, one is not distinguishable from the rest. Any could be interchanged with any Creed song and nobody would notice. Except, of course, the obvious influence of alcoholism. Scotty boy, put down the bottle and stop screeching and whining. It does not become you.

To Bon Jovi, the “Most Annoying Damned Single of the Year” award for “Have a Nice Day.” It’s not even a good song, ugh. It follows the exact same musical formula of “It’s My Life,” and not even remotely in disguise. Well, at least that song had a decent chorus. “Have a Nice Day” turns into absolute trash once the supposedly “catchy” part hits. My local radio stations refuse to stop playing it. I am in pain.

To New Order, the “Gee, How Many Hits Collections Can We Release Before People Revolt” award. Not that I’m complaining, as I really do like The Singles and will eat up any excuse to listen to more New Order. But this sort of reeks of a cover-up following the lackluster reception to Waiting For the Sirens’ Call. Perhaps these guys should meet up with Motley Crue and the two of them can discuss how further they can repackage their old hits to churn out a few more pennies before everyone realizes they’re completely out of creative fire.

And to TATU, the “Oh My God This Album Is So Terrible Yet I Can’t Stop Listening To It” award. Seriously. It’s garbage. 90% of the songs aren’t remotely catchy or memorable, or the lyrics are so horrible that even Madonna is pointing and laughing at them. But for some reason, I left this album in rotation for three months. I can’t explain it. Really, I can’t. But now I know every godforsakenly awful song by heart and I have the urge to listen to it again. Damn you, Russian pubescent vixens!

And that’s enough out of me. You all enjoy your post-holiday reveling in rad stuff, and I’ll enjoy my candles.

–gloomchen