My Top Ten Eleven Albums of 2012

All in one place . . . like a  Christmas list. I'm not numbering them 1 to 10 because they're too good -- and too different -- to rank absolutely. Click on each title for a link to my original post.

Graham Parker & The Rumour:
Three Chords Good
Even I, a confirmed Graham Parker fanatic, didn't predict just HOW good this reunion album would be. I'm gobsmacked by its brilliance.

The Shins: Port of Morrow
A combination of gorgeous melody, striking lyrics, and a sweetly melancholy worldview -- it's almost drunkenly beautiful.

Corb Lund: Cabin Fever
Ranging from honky-tonk to rockabilly to bluegrass to Western swing, Lund doesn't approach country music like an artifact or an ironic affectation; he approaches it like a cowboy..

Rhett Miller: Dreamer
From the Old 97s front man, an entire alt-country album about love, lost and found, sour and sweet.

Paul Weller: Sonik Kicks
Ever the restless risk-taker, Weller loads up this album with studio effects and sonic experiments, while his insane commitment to melody and to syncopation shines gloriously through.

The Ben Folds Five:
The Sound of the Life of the Mind
I adore Ben Folds' solo work as well, but the driving energy and impish wit of the Ben Folds Five is something else.

The dBs: Falling Off the Sky
Reuniting this beloved late 70s band so many years down the road seems like a joyful and natural thing, judging from the copasetic energy of Falling Off the Sky.

John Hiatt: Mystic Pinball
Start to finish, that raspy voice, the visceral rhythms, the crunchy guitarwork, all come together to craft a sound so authentic and idiosyncratic, it fits like a glove.

The Avett Brothers: The Carpenter
Scott and Seth Avett have never shed the upbeat sweetness of their southern folk roots, even as they steer it into rock territory.

Mumford & Sons: Babel
Hipster indie Brits forge their own peculiar Americana sound, like O Brother Where Art Thou? meets Martin Amis, full of post-modern angst and old-time religion.

M. Ward: A Wasteland Companion
OOF!! Released way back last April, I forgot at first to put this on my 2012 top ten list. But I adore its acoustic reverbed charm, a retro-flavored meditation on love, loss, and resilience.

My Top Ten Albums of 2012

Ten days, ten albums. No particular order -- hey, it was hard enough whittling it down to ten!

Mumford & Sons: Babel
"Hopeless Wanderer"

I loved it when Ray Davies started doing bluegrass and country music on Muswell Hillbillies, so I'm naturally a sucker for the Mumfords. What's not to love when hipster indie Brits forge their own peculiar Americana sound, full of banjo and acoustic guitars and Salvation Army brass? They're like O Brother Where Art Thou? meets Martin Amis, full of post-modern angst and old-time religion.

Just to prove that 2009's Sigh No More wasn't a fluke, here comes their wonderful new album Babel. And -- because this is what I do -- here's one track to hook you in.

Remember that old song"The Happy Wanderer"? (Fal-de-ree, fal-da-ra, fal-de-ree, fal-da-ra-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha). This tune is its flip side, trading in jaunty optimism for desperate passion.

It's a sort of love song, I guess, as  the singer clings wildly to the person who has redeemed his sorry soul: "You heard my voice / I came out of the woods by choice" and, later, "you brought me out from the cold." "Now, how I long to grow old" he adds, giddy with the idea that he actually has something worth growing old for. 

But we've left Simplistic Pop Love Songs soooooo far behind. He's not looking for easy answers -- in fact, he wants the complexities to remain. "So leave that click in my head," he begs in the tentatively loping first verse. "The  words that you said / Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart," he says, adding, "But I was sure we could see a new start." Ah, new starts -- the eternal promise of pop music. But the lyrics are barely out of his mouth before he's dragged down again. In the second verse, he admits, "I wrestled long with my youth" and "When I lose my head, I lose my spine." This is one conflicted guy -- you gotta admire the chick who can solve his head games.

The Indie Songwriter's Handbook requires this kind of anti-hero angst, but I have to say, Marcus Mumford pulls it off convincingly. As he charges into the fiercer energy of the chorus, he pleads with real conviction, "Hold me fast, / Hold me fast / Cause I'm a hopeless wanderer."The little ragged edge to his lead vocal makes it even more poignant, as he flails against the mounting scrum of acoustic guitar and banjo. (Who said that acoustic instruments couldn't rise to the grandeur of rock?) Of course the Anglophile fangirl in me adores the broad A of that oft-repeated "hold me fast." It's the sexiest thing in this song, kinda like the "I really fooked it up this time" line in "Little Lion Man" from the Mumfords first album. Those are the peculiarly Mumfordian touches that endear this song to me.

There's a reckless romanticism to this chorus, the tempo veering almost out of control, the acoustic instruments scrabbling wildly to keep up. He knows he's a guy who sometimes flies off the deep end. That's why he needs a lover who will keep him grounded, a steadfast lover who's just as intrigued by the clicks in his head as by his more obvious attributes. Isn't that what "for better, for worse" is all about?  

In the final chorus, he vows "I will learn, /  I will learn / To love the skies I'm under." I'm not one-hundred-percent buying that. Listen to the weary flogging beat of "skies I'm un-der" -- this guy still isn't sure he can do it. But with her help, he's gonna try. And if that ain't love . . .

"Days / This Time Tomorrow"

Ray Davies and Mumford and Sons

Just a little taster from Ray Davies' new duets album, See My Friends. It's not out in the States yet (sorry to tantalize you all), but impatient fangirl that I am, I managed to order a copy from amazon.fr and have been listening to it all day. 

Now, normally I am constitutionally opposed to duets albums.  To my mind, they are even lower on the opportunism scale than best-of compilations -- most often a cynical late-career grab for new market share, wherein a veteran musician lines up "collaborations" with younger artists in order to jump-start awareness of his old hits.  I had thought Ray Davies was above such shenanigans, but apparently not. (Although Ray's notion of "younger artists" seems to include Bruce Springsteen, Lucinda Williams, and Bon Jovi -- go figure.)

Translation: this album was not made for the hardcore fans like myself, who presumably already possess seven or eight versions of songs like "You Really Got Me" (performed this time with, I regret to say, Metallica) or "Waterloo Sunset" (performed with -- wait for it -- Jackson Browne, of all people).  Well, actually, I really like the duet with Jackson Browne, but you get my point. We the Kinks faithful do not need this adulterated product. Which makes it even more galling that it is selling like hotcakes over in Europe, giving Ray Davies the chart success that by all rights should have been won by his recent solo albums, Other People's Lives and Working Man's Cafe.  Don't you just hate it when the marketing people are right?

But Ray being Ray, this shameless hustle -- like his equally shameless recycle of old Kinks hits, The Kinks Choral Collection -- turns out to have several very lovely tracks.  And even the kalloused souls of Kinkdom generally confess that this track, where Ray collaborates with the hot young UK indie band Mumford and Sons, is a wonderful thing indeed.

Now, if you're going to perform a cover of a classic rock song -- and especially if you are going to perform that cover with the living legend who actually wrote it -- I believe you need to bring something fresh to the table.  On that score, this track succeeds brilliantly. 

First and foremost, they don't just do one song, they do a medley, yoking together two songs: the 1968 single "Days" with the 1970 album track "This Time Tomorrow" (from Part One: Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround). Iconic songs, both of them -- you've got to admire the Mumfords' nerve -- and it was a stroke of genius to combine them. 

"Days" is surely Ray's most wistful break-up song ever, a gentle valediction for an ex-girlfriend, while "This Time Tomorrow" is part lonely meditation on the road, part philosophical musing on the mutability of human relationships.  In both songs, however, Ray Davies is playing with memory. "Days" tenderly recalls the happy moments of this ended love affair, but then it also projects into the future, reflecting on how those happy memories will sustain him in the days to come. (Typical Ray Davies write-off.)  "This Time Tomorrow" time travels more consciously -- "This time tomorrow / Where will we be" -- but as it depicts the jet travel of the touring musician as a sci-fi scenario of space flight, it deftly projects that "tomorrow" eons into the future. Which is probably how the lonely, disconnected touring musician feels, right? In its own way, it's just as poignant and wistful as "Days."

The contrast in tempo between the two songs -- "Days" gentle and folky, "This Time Tomorrow" a banjo-fueled hoedown -- works better than I could ever have imagined (it's also perfect for the Mumfords, who feature virtuoso banjo stylings on all their own tracks).  The song choices also allow the Mumfords to show off their gorgeous vocal harmonies -- for once, I don't miss Dave Davies' harmonies.

I love the Kinks' versions of both these songs, but this is one case where I don't at all mind Ray recycling his classics.  It proves one thing for sure -- your duets album can only be as good as the artists you invite to duet with you.  I suspect that the marketing people wanted Ray to line up artists like Bruce and Bon Jovi who could deliver their own audiences. Of course, that does make marketing sense.  But screw marketing sense:  I'd rather have the enthusiasm and energy that the Mumfords bring to this track.  Watch Ray performing with them -- doesn't he seem invigorated, too?   God bless his little heart.

Tuesday Guest Blogger

"The Cave" / Mumford & Sons

By Hugh Ward, Guest Blogger

Mumford & Sons seems like a simple band. Comprised of a guitar, acoustic bass, keyboards, and banjo, this London band -- formed in 2007 -- nevertheless creates an overwhelming sound with an acoustic approach. Their method for creating such a large sound comes from passion. The band's energy, especially that of singer and guitarist, Marcus Mumford, vibrates throughout their debut album, Sigh No More. This aspect really makes Mumford & Sons stand out in a crowd of folk sound.

"The Cave" leads off with one of my favorite guitar lines, a riff that creates a soothing sound as Mumford starts to sing with an equal tone. Ben Lovett eventually comes in with light piano chords that highlight the melody, and Ted Dwane begins his bass line. As the chorus comes around, however, Mumford changes his pleasant guitar riff into abbreviated chords, conveying a mood change. Backing vocals pour in to fill out the sound.

After this, the featured sound shifts from guitar to banjo, played by "Country" Winston. The, after another short verse, comes the best part of the song: when all band members yell out the lyrics while they bash away at their instruments. The song, at least for me, is most appreciated when performed live. Take a look at the video for an intimate, live performance by the band.



Mumford & Sons have really found their vocal niche. All four of the band members belt out choruses like they were born to do it. Just as in my last week's post about Arcade Fire, today's song's lyrics carry a lot of emotion. The song starts on a depressing note: "It's empty in the valley of your heart." This sentiment continues through the verse as Mumford sings about famine and defeat. But as the chorus comes around, hope is restored: "But I will hold on hope / And I won't let you choke / On the noose around your neck". The rest of the song switches between the verse emotion and the six lines of the chorus. Much as I love the musical qualities of this song, the lyrics are my favorite part -- they carry the passion that energizes Mumford & Sons' music.

If you like folk music, listen to Mumford & Sons -- they offer folk music with an extra surge of passionate conviction. It's not just this track, either; Sigh No More is a very consistent album, filled with fantastic tracks. No two songs sound alike, but the quality is high, track after track.

Wednesday Shuffle

I did get a new iPod Shuffle this week -- an absurdly tiny device, in neon green metal, that only holds about 500 songs. Half of the thing consists of a steel clip (engraved with my name!) on the back, a definite clue that it was developed mainly to carry gym music. So yeah, I loaded all my uptempo tracks on there -- but don't worry, today I'm spinning tunes from the full library, just like always...

1. "I've Got to See You Again" / Norah Jones
From Come Away With Me (2002)
Steamy slow samba about an affair, probably illicit, and definitely with an older man. (Older than Norah, that is.) The main thing is the refrain, "I can't help myself / I've got to see you again." I love how she groans, just a little, on that line -- it's simply dripping with desire.

2. "Laurel Canyon" / Jackie DeShannon
From Laurel Canyon (1968)
Was Jackie DeShannon America's answer to Dusty Springfield? No way, but I do enjoy her California soul take on the late 60s, with hippieism just beginning to creep in. ("I'm sewing flowers on my blouse...") The laidback boogie of this ode to her hip L.A. neighborhood paints a pretty inviting portrait -- almost enough to make me want to move there. Almost.

3. "Grass" / XTC
From Skylarking (1986)
Ah, the sublime Andy Partridge. I sure do dig this slidey melody (and how the guitars and synths slide around too). Even though he sings, "Over and over let us flatten the clover," I suspect I know which kind of grass this song is about. Bird effects at the end, too -- how springlike!

4. "White Blank Page" / Mumford & Sons
From Sigh No More (2010)
Though these guys are from London, they sure remind me of the Wood Brothers or Fleet Foxes or the Avett Brothers -- must be the banjo, the fiddles, and the saturated harmonies. Their homespun folky sound sure works for me, though this album is kinda heavy on downer songs. There' s plenty of passion to rescue this tune about an affair gone sour -- it simply aches with love denied.

5. "Oh Me Oh My (I'm Fool For You Baby)" / Lulu
From New Routes (1969)
This was probably the only other Lulu song we ever heard in States, after "To Sir With Love," and its R&B sound was so authentic, I always thought it was a cover. (Maybe because Aretha sang it a couple years later.) Turns out it was written for Lulu by a songwriter from her native Glasgow -- go figure. At least they recorded it at Muscle Shoals. "I'll stage a ballet on a tabletop" is a great line, but even better is the next verse, "We'll blow a genie from a cigarette / And then we'll take a magic carpet ride." Why, Lulu!

6. "Love Song" / Brinsley Schwarz
From Despite It All (1970)
Vintage Brinsley tune, a quite serviceable imitation of forgettable country-rock (Brewer & Shipley, anyone?). But hey, it's written by Nick Lowe, so you know it's loveable. "This here is a love song / I got to get back to my baby's heart again / This here is a love song / I got to sing it till I get back home." By the last verse, we find out she's broken up with him, but this does not seem to dim his conviction one bit. Hang in there, Nick!

7. "Back to the War" / John Hiatt
From Two-Bit Monsters (1980)
We just had early Nick Lowe, now we've got early John Hiatt -- from the days when he was being promoted as "the American Elvis Costello." Trying to live up to that comparison, John let no metaphor go unexplored, and all relationships were by definition nasty and contentious. "I've got this dynamite / I know you're sitting tight / Waiting for news / Well, I'm lighting the fuse." I didn't discover Hiatt until much later, when he'd settled into his own groove, but as a sophomore effort this still ain't bad.

8. "Keep It Simple" / Keb' Mo'
From Keep It Simple (2004)
"Two cars, three kids, six loans / A whole lot of confusion in my home / Six hundred channels on my TV screen / Six hundred versions of the same damn thing." Oh, sure, Keb's music sounds like the most ancient dirt-caked Delta blues -- but do not be misled. It's sly, funny, and totally perceptive social commentary, just topped off with a little pedal steel. "Decaff latte cappucino, said the cashier / Gimme a small cup of coffee, I said, and get me outta here!"

9. "Everything But a Heartbeat" / The Searchers
From Play For Today (1980)
Though it's late Searchers, the sound is solid British Invasion gold, in the jangly-guitar vein of their classic "Needles and Pins," thanks to songwriter Will Birch (of Kursaal Flyers and the Records), who also penned "Hearts In Her Eyes" for them. It's a skewering Bad Girlfriend song, from a guy who's fully prepared to twist the knife (a Will Birch specialty). She's got a great smile, a great way of walking, all the pop cliches -- "But I want to tell you what she's all about / She'll wind you up and then she'll spit you out." Ouch.

10. "Ashes to Ashes" / Steve Earle
From Jerusalem (2002)
No, not the Bowie hit -- a pity, because that's the one I really like. Instead, this is a twangy sort of talking blues, as Steve Earle slouches towards Bethlehem, spewing political aspersions and dark apocalyptic visions. I know Steve Earle is supposed to be a great songwriter. Hell, he probably is, I just haven't heard the right tracks. Why is this one even on my iTunes?

Pity it had to end on that note -- the next track would have been Wanda Jackson's "I Forgot to Remember to Forget Him", a much more appropriate sign-off for this chick-lit cluster of songs. Oh, well, the Shuffle genie apparently had other plans...