RIYL: Blur, mid-period OMD, Saturday morning cartoons

Damon Albarn is surely still scratching his head over the fact that he had to hide behind a crudely drawn character in order to sell a million records in the US, while the humanoid version of Albarn remains a cult act, be it with Blur or the Good, the Bad & the Queen, his project with the Clash’s Paul Simonon. Give him credit, then, for not capitalizing on this loophole by turning the Gorillaz into a Hannah Montana-style media juggernaut, churning out an album, plush doll, video game and TV show every 18 months. God knows, it must have been tempting. Sell millions of records, or don’t sell millions of records? Credibility is nice, but as David Cross pointed out, those outside the industry are stingy about accepting it as collateral.

Indeed, it’s been five years since Albarn has donned the ink and paper, and if the Gorillaz’ new album Plastic Beach is any indication, the anger that fueled 2005’s Demon Days has subsided. Unfortunately, Albarn’s energy level seems to have subsided as well. The album doesn’t shift gears much, opting for mid-tempo grooves that you’d expect from a Jack Johnson or a G. Love. “On Melancholy Hill” sounds like OMD circa The Pacific Age. This is not your older brother’s Gorillaz, though that’s not entirely a bad thing. The album may be completely lacking in bottom end – you’d have to go back 30 years to find tinnier drum tracks – but Albarn is still good for one unforgettable single, in this case the “Safety Dance”-ish “Stylo,” featuring a passionate vocal from Bobby Womack. De La Soul return to guest on the cutesy “Superfast Jellyfish,” and “To Binge,” a perky duet with Little Dragon, is one of the best pop songs Albarn’s written in years. He gets a bit carried away with the guest performers, though. Did he need Mos Def and Bobby Womack and De La Soul and Mark E. Smith and Lou Reed and Snoop Dogg and Mick Jones and Paul Simonon? (And that’s not even all of the guest performers.) Albarn ultimately minimizes his contributions to his own album.

Perhaps the most perplexing aspect about Plastic Beach is its warmth, or lack thereof. This is one cold album, and perhaps that was Albarn’s point. If so, mission accomplished, but it could come at a huge price. His band is already artificial; when the music begins to feel the same way, discontent is sure to follow. There is much to admire about Plastic Beach, but it’s also one of the most emotionless albums you’ll hear this year. (Virgin 2010)

Gorillaz MySpace page
Click to buy Plastic Beach from Amazon

RIYL: Greyboy All Stars, The Meters, The Dirty Dozen Brass Band

As an instrumental band known for kicking down big jams in the live setting, Galactic is part of a jam band genre not particularly known for creating classic albums. But the New Orleans funk rockers used to have a singer (the Houseman) and have enjoyed collaborating with vocalists when they can. They’ve taken the opportunity here to bring in a bunch of local friends to create a real album instead of just a collection of grooves. The liner notes deem it as “post-flood musical reality from a 291-year-old-city that’s had a near-death experience.” It’s an apt characterization for what will surely be one of the most unique albums of 2010.

The album kicks off with a fellow who sounds sort of like Professor Farnsworth from “Futurama” talking over a groove about some of the creative science behind the band’s festive formula. And then it’s on like Donkey Kong, with Galactic and friends throwing down one fresh cut after another to create a genuine party album. The Rebirth Brass Band joins in for “Boe Money” and “You Don’t Know,” bringing the extra horns that signify a truly authentic New Orleans style fiesta. The latter song also features Glenn David Andrews singing the blues on a sizzling cut with funky wah-wah, sharp horn lines and snazzy percussion from drummer Stanton Moore, long the driving force behind the band.

One of the best cuts is “Cineramascope,” which features extra horn action too, thanks to Trombone Shorty and Corey Henry (trombonist from the Rebirth Brass Band.) Bassist Robert Mercurio and keyboardist Rich Vogel get a deep groove going with Moore, giving the trombones and saxman Ben Ellman a great platform to jam over. Henry played a number of shows with the band on their fall tour and the chemistry shows. This track is probably the closest on the album to what the band sounds like live these days. Another stand-out is “Dark Water” with John Boutte, which has guitarist Jeff Raines helping to conjure a gritty yet still ever-groovy vibe with some slick bluesy riffage. Irma Thomas brings some old school soul to “Heart of Steel,” while Big Chief Bo Dollis does the same in a more up-tempo way on “Wild Man.” Allen Toussaint guests on “Bacchus” and sings about getting with the future so you don’t get left behind. This is a concept that Galactic personifies, blending jazzy old school roots with their trademark future-funk. Legendary guitarist Walter “Wolfman” Washington also shows up to bring his patented old-school bluesy vibe to the slow burning “Speaks His Mind.”

Hip-hop out of the New Orleans subgenre known as bounce is featured on several tracks, with the band taking the opportunity to introduce several gender-bending “sissy rappers.” Big Freedia throws it down over a slamming beat in “Double It,” while Katey Red and Sissy Nobby dual with each other on the high-energy “Katey vs. Nobby.” But the best bounce song on the album is “Do It Again,” featuring Cheeky Black on a cut that’s so hot they reprise it at the end of the album. The ridiculous video for the song is to be avoided, but the audio track rocks. Using so many different guests could create a disjointed feel, but Galactic tie it all together with a cohesive vibe thanks to their ace musicianship that serves as the foundation. (Anti- 2010)

Galactic MySpace page

Oy, this decade was a mess. The ’90s were easy. Rock had grunge, hip-hop had gangsta rap and a genre-defining electronic album seemed to come out every week thanks to artists like Aphex Twin, the Prodigy and the Orb (just to name a few). There was no Zeitgeist-turning moment in music this decade, no Next Big Thing. Instead, we saw mainstream rock dissolve into a post-grunge funk from which it might never recover, while pop music infiltrated rap music in insulting and embarrassing ways (thanks, Auto-Tune). Meanwhile, both the punk rock kids and hippies discovered electronic music, giving Pitchfork whole new genres of music to build up and tear down.

We’re more fragmented then ever – case in point: of all the albums selected by the writers who’ve contributed to our End of Decade series, only one album has been selected twice – which means that there’s something out there for anyone, but nothing for everyone. It sucks if you like the idea of a rock band being bigger than Jesus, especially if you don’t want that band to be U2. But if you like the idea that at any given moment there’s probably an album being released that will appeal to just you a few thousand other people, then this is a great time to be alive. However, that also means the chances of finding something truly “original” are next to nil. We’re getting to a point where it feels like everything has been done, and everyone is just paying homage, making pastiche or ripping off something that came before.

That being said, there were still a few original albums to make their way to my ears this decade, and almost all of them ended up being my favorites. So while you say this is my “best of” list for the decade, you could also call it my “most original” list as well.

1. Fucked Up: Chemistry of Common Life
Canadian indie rock seemed to be the scene of the ’00s, and while it gave us some good music, most of it bored me. It was just so damn pleasant. And Fucked Up is a lot of things, but pleasant isn’t one of them. In fact, almost everything about them, from their R-rated name to the abrasive vocals of their lead singer (who goes by the name Pink Eyes) almost dares you not to like them. I sure as hell didn’t at first; it seemed like they were trying too hard to be “outrageous.” But when they give you a song as brilliant as “Son the Father” with its goosebump-inducing riff and the best lyric of the decade (“It’s hard enough being born in the first place / Who would ever wanna be born again?”), it’s impossible not to take notice. This is hardcore punk’s Dark Side of the Moon and will probably be just as influential in the years to come.

2. Arcade Fire: Funeral
Okay, so not all of the indie-rock from Canada bored me. I didn’t want to like Arcade Fire, I didn’t want to fall for their melancholy lyrics and haunting melodies, and I didn’t want to be put under enchantment by the haunting closing track “In The Backseat.” It just kind of happened that way. Damn Canadians and their near-perfect records.

3. Hell: Teufelswerk
An as-yet-unheard masterpiece, although there is some hope still since it only came out this year. Teufelswerk picks up where The Orb’s Adventures into the Underworld left off, taking the listener on a journey across two discs that include ambient, house, electro and just about everything else in between. Not made entirely for the dance floor, it’s the kind of electronic album that should have mainstream appeal, even with its 13-minute tracks and bizarre guest appearance roster of Bryan Ferry and Diddy. If you consider yourself a fan of electronic music and you don’t have this album, you’re doing it wrong.

4. At the Drive-In: Relationship of Command
It came out in 2000, and nearly 10 years later there’s still nothing that sounds remotely like it. It’s usually pegged as an emo record, (the first time I heard the word “emo” was in regards to this record) but modern emo has little in common with this masterpiece of tempo changes, passionate vocals and adrenaline-fueled insanity. Too bad the band couldn’t survive much past the album’s release, and the two offshoots they formed after the break-up, the Mars Volta and Sparta, have come close to even matching this record in the years that have followed. Of course, almost no one else has, either.

5. Marnie Stern: This Is It And I Am It…
“This chick is kinda nuts,” said my editor when he pitched this CD to me. I’m naturally attracted to insane women, so that’s partially why I took a shine to Stern so quickly, but it mostly had to do with the fact that I’ve heard nothing like her before. She’s some heavenly combination of Van Halen and Sleater-Kinney, taking guitar virtuosity and mixing it with riot grrl passion to create an entirely one-of-a-kind sound in the process. She’s her own beast, creating her own genre which should just be called “holy shit music,” because that’s all I can think to myself when I hear her.

6. Deltron 3030: Deltron 3030
Indie hip-hop may be easy to find now, but in 2000 there was no scene for that, at least there wasn’t in my consciousness. I still don’t remember how I found this record, which is a crazy concept album about an intergalactic rap battle in the year 3030, but I remember being pleasantly surprised when a year later everyone involved on it (Del Tha Funkee Homosapien, DJ Kid Koala, Dan the Automator and Damon Albarn) went on to form Gorillaz. But this album is still better than anything those animated monkeys put out. It isn’t only the best hip-hop album of the decade, but the most original as well.

7. Mastodon: Leviathan
Prog-rock and heavy metal, two great tastes that taste great together, especially when used to create a concept album based on “Moby Dick.” Mastodon’s early albums showed promise, but this seafaring epic really sealed the deal and heralded their arrival as “the” metal band in 2004. It was also the first album to show me that popular metal was finally getting past that nu-metal BS that nearly ruined the genre at the turn of the millennium. There needs to be more metal based on classic American novels. I’m waiting for a metal interpretation of “The Age of Innocence.”

8. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: It’s Blitz!
The biggest 180 of the decade. Sounding nothing like their previous records, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs didn’t go dance-punk for their third LP, they went full-on dance – like a rocking version of Kylie Minogue. You’re not going to hear a better dance track this year than “Zero,” unless you count all the other up-tempo numbers on this flawless record.

9. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell
Oh yeah, and their first album wasn’t half bad, either.

10. The Strokes: Is This It?
The poster band and the poster album for the for the poster genre (post-punk revival) that was supposed to become the Next Big Thing. And while that didn’t really happen, we still got some really good records out of it, this one still being the best. And even if you didn’t like it, you have to admit that it probably got a bunch of kids listening to the Stooges for the first time. And the UK version (see photo) had the best album cover of the decade as well.

RIYL: Fusion jazz, jambands, Bernie Worrell, Galactic

If you are sick of the state of the music business, if you need some new music that sounds truly new, if FM radio bores you to tears and even the blog-rock CDs showing up on every music site’s “best of” list lets you down because it all sounds like half-practiced, overproduced slacker junk played by snotty people you wouldn’t invite to parties at your place…please go and buy this box set. The culmination of the two-year Radiolarians project, The Evolutionary Set is the career pinnacle of MMW, jazz-rocking experimentalists who are neither jazz nor rock, but “avant-groove.” Kind of an thinking-fan’s instrumental Phish, this trio started with an idea in 2007: Write some proto-jams, briefly rehearse them, take them on tour, develop them live, and then record the finished project. It spawned three ridiculously tight, sometimes funky, sometimes rockin’, sometimes ambient-noodling numbers that sound like nothing you’ve heard. It doesn’t hurt that these guys not only have played together almost two decades, but that they’re exceptional players. The box set includes the three Radiolarians albums, a double-vinyl set, a DVD documentary, a remixes disc, and a live album. It’s intelligent jazz, it’s primitive rock. It’s funky stuff. It’s an updated 2009 version of the strangely beautiful Miles Davis period that included the records On The Corner and A Tribute to Jack Johnson. It’s everything indie music’s all about, and while the major labels and commercial radio won’t touch this stuff, you should. (Indirecto Records, 2009)

Medeski Martin and Wood MySpace page

RIYL: It’s a bit hard to say, really

The idea of any 72-year-old man supervising the recording of a hip-hop record is sort of ridiculous on its face, but Bill Cosby? The guy whose beef with rap culture’s profane streak has only deepened since being immortalized in Eddie Murphy’s “Raw” more than 20 years ago? The sweatered sitcom savior and Jell-O pitchman has made a second career out of delivering cranky missives to the black community, and from a distance, Bill Cosby Presents the Cosnarati: State of Emergency looks like just another lecture about not dropping out of school, taking care of your kids, staying off drugs, and keeping your language free of all that awful filth, flarn, flarn, flarn, filth. Which it is, sort of, but here’s the thing – as a hip-hop record, State of Emergency is surprisingly sound. Okay, so it won’t win any awards for innovative production, and yes, it does include a few painful rhymes, but it’s far from the unintentionally hilarious train wreck you might expect. And even if he’s alienated some with his heavy-handed speechifying, this album reinforces the fact that his heart has always been in the right place. Still, there’s no denying that Public Enemy was pioneering socially conscious hip-hop 20 years ago – and delivering it with more passion, more style, and a more profound impact. It’s also hard, given Cosby’s career and strident reputation, to imagine who’s going to listen to this album with open enough ears to hear it for what it really is. It’s ultimately just a curiosity, albeit a well-made one; perhaps next time, Cos can use a few name-brand MCs to get his point across. (Turtle Head 2009)

Bill Cosby MySpace page

50 Cent – nee Curtis Jackson – is one of the more brilliant entrepreneurs to come out of modern hip-hop, but as a rapper, the man has problems: He’s been locked in a sales slide since releasing his seven-times-platinum debut, Get Rich or Die Tryin’, in 2003, and these days, you’re more likely to see him in theaters (where he’s popped up in horrible movies like (“Righteous Kill”) or video games (such as “Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2”) than hear him on the radio. 50’s artistic confusion is reflected in Before I Self Destruct’s troubled birth: Originally slated for release in 2007, Destruct was bumped in favor of the roundly panned Curtis, then shoved all over Interscope’s schedule for months; no fewer than six singles from the album have been released since October of 2008, and tellingly, none of them have had half the impact of earlier hits like “In da Club” or “Candy Shop.” Whatever 50’s been doing to this album for the last two years, it hasn’t helped much: Whether he’s engaging in unintentional self-parody with ludicrous gangsta tracks or raging against seemingly everyone in his personal and business life, Self Destruct lacks any of the menacing, mush-mouthed charm that made him a star.

He’s clearly making a desperate effort to make up for embarrassing pop concessions like “Amusement Park,” but none of it works; the production (courtesy of top-shelf producers like Dr. Dre, Polow da Don, and Rockwilder) is as dull and played out as 50’s subject matter – his current single, “Baby By Me,” even samples his own “I Get Money.” Meanwhile, 50 himself strains to sound dangerous, but it’s hard to take tracks like “Death to My Enemies,” “Crime Wave,” and “Gangsta’s Delight” seriously coming from a guy who just debuted his first fragrance for men. His laconic flow has always been part of his appeal, but here, 50 Cent just sounds flabby and tired, and at 16 deeply uninspired tracks, Before I Self Destruct is a painfully long slog. Try to imagine the musical equivalent of being peed on in a rainstorm while an escaped mental patient with a speech impediment shouts at you, and you’ll come close to the experience. With a long list of movies in production and a contract-sealing greatest hits collection on the way, it could be some time before we hear new music from 50 Cent; hopefully, the time off gives him a chance to recharge his creative batteries. (Aftermath/Interscope 2009)

50 Cent MySpace page

RIYL: BT, Chemical Brothers, Daft Punk

Only a band like Basement Jaxx could plunge head-first into the world of pop in order to rediscover their independent spirit. The band’s last album, 2006’s Crazy Itch Radio, left us a little cold, as if the band itself wasn’t sure where to go after their 2003 monster breakthrough album Kish Kash. This time around, the Brixton duo have taken copious notes on the current state of dance music, and made an album that says, “That stuff is nice…but we can do it better.” “Rainbows” takes Paul Oakenfold’s four-to-the-floor beat and pairs it with a sky-high chorus, and Sam Sparro lends his pipes to the Euro-house “Feelings Gone.” Speaking of guest vocalists, the Jaxx have outdone themselves here, assembling a so-hip-it-hurts lineup featuring Santigold, Kelis, Eli “Paperboy” Reed, and…wait for it…Yoko Ono. (Yes, it sounds exactly like you think it does, and even includes short breaths that sound awfully close to, yikes, an orgasm.)

But don’t let “hipster guest list” lead you to think that they’re trying to dazzle the listener with star power; the tunes come first, and they’ve come up with some doozies. The “Maniac”-riffing freak-out “Twerk” is one of the best songs the band has ever done, and they even take a surf pop doo wop detour on “A Possibility.” And massive props for the return Lisa Kekaula, who provided the thunderous lead vocal to Kish Kish track “Good Luck,” to sing the ballad “Stay Close,” which sounds like an electro Tracy Chapman. Scars is a most welcome return to form for the band, and not a moment too soon. (Ultra Records 2009)

Basement Jaxx MySpace page
Click to buy Scars from Amazon

RIYL: Avalanches, DJ Spooky, Portishead

Anyone jonesing for another Avalanches album – and really, who isn’t? – would do well to pick up the latest effort by Wax Tailor, the nom de guerre of French turntablist Jean-Christophe Le Saoût. In the Mood for Life careens between cut & paste pastiche (unofficial “Frontier Psychiatrist” sequel “Sit and Listen,” the rhyme-stealing “B-Boy on Wax”) and downbeat trip-hop (”Dragon Chasers,” “Dry Your Eyes”), with a few straight-up hip-hop tracks like “Until Heaven Stops the Rain” and “This Train” and the ’60s girl pop splendor of “Leave It” sprinkled in for good measure. The old-school rhyme flow is welcome – though the rhymes in “Say Yes” are painful – and while he’s strolling down Memory Lane, Le Saoût makes the mistake of peppering the album with the dreaded ’skit’ tracks, tiny bridge bits from one track to another that, for the most part, would be just fine tacked on to the beginning of the following track. But we’re splitting hairs: In the Mood for Life, for all its styles, has a singular vision that ties everything together, making this much more than a ‘DJ desperately trying to be all things to all people’ affair. Thank heaven for small miracles. (Le Plan 2009)

Wax Tailor MySpace page
Click to buy In the Mood for Life from Amazon

RIYL: Brian Eno, Peter Gabriel, Depeche Mode

Although he first emerged from Christian pop realms, Derek Webb has never found himself constrained by either dogma or dictates, especially as they apply to his own soft rock excursions and those that he pursues with his talented wife, singer/songwriter Sandra McCracken. However, anyone familiar with his music up until now might be somewhat confounded by Webb’s current switch in sound. Webb’s always aimed for accessibility, but here he deviates from that tact, opting instead for an atmospheric motif, some techno trappings and hip-hop beats to maintain his muse. On first listen, it sounds like an attempt to substitute dance club fare for the thoughtful approach that distinguished his previous efforts and indeed, Webb keeps things moving at a kinetic pace. However, while the undulating ambiance sometimes seems distracting, additional listens reveal some subtle nuances. In fact, it’s those moments of mellow respite – the gentle ballads “The State,” “Heaven” and “American Flag Umbrella” in particular – that make Stockholm Syndrome easier to abide.

Derek Webb MySpace page

RIYL: Kraftwerk, Afrika Bambaata, Jungle Brothers

New York trio Vinyl Life is about to make a bunch of former DJs very happy. Their self-titled debut is the most authentic tribute to ’80s dance music that we’ve heard, well, since the ’80s. “Hi Tops” is a miniature Name That Riff, using the keyboard lines from Inner City’s “Big Fun” and Maurice’s “This Is Acid” and merging them into a freestyle freak-out. “Electric Symphony” sounds like a sunnier Dubnobasswithmyheadman-era Underworld, and “Like This” will have Mantronik fans popping in their seats. The rapping is old-school in both delivery (it’s actually on the beat) and subject matter (sex, sex, sex), and most refreshingly, it’s almost entirely profanity-free. The guest rappers on the album’s final two tracks are not as accomodating, but just try not to laugh when one of them pulls an “Instant Club Hit”-type rant at the end of the don’t-be-a-douchebag smackdown “Take It Off.” Bonus points for “Future Beat,” which takes the signature Stock, Aitken & Waterman drum sound – think the opening to Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” – and restores its inherent coolness.

The album is even available for download on a donate-what-you-want basis (but unlike Radiohead, you have to pay at least a dollar) at Tape Theory Records’ site. Best dollar you’ll ever spend. (Tape Theory Records 2009)

Vinyl Life MySpace page