Worth Your Time

What do these guys sound like?

I had almost forgotten how sick this tune is.  

Yup. Been watching music videos all night.

Chronicles of Nardia

Having seen a picture of myself without a shirt on and officially reaching the 200 lb milestone in the same week, I joined a gym yesterday. My first official workout was today. I arrived at Gold's Gym at twenty after six. After being given my shiny new membership card, I headed towards the locker room like I knew what I was doing; like I had been there before. As I awkwardly attempted to coordinate changing into my workout clothes without any articles of work clothing touching the ground (I'm afraid I am a bit of a germaphobe), I realized that when I passed through the entryway of the locker room, I unwittingly exited the back of the wardrobe and entered Nardia. Everywhere I looked; naked old men sauntered around dragging their balls on the floor between their feet. I did my best to keep my eyes off the floor and on the task at hand.

Before reemerging from Nardia, I got an extra light workout in. And by light, I mean I ran two and a half miles and walked one. Didn't want to overdue it on day one only never to return. And so I got on the treadmill, iPid in hand, earphones in ear. One of the best things about John Zorn's music -and about listening to music on headphones in general- is the potential for a fitting or juxtapositional soundtrack to whatever's going on around you. At the Mountains of Madness. Here, today, frenetic Jewish jazz being played like heavy metal was the soundtrack to a brush with fame. That's right. Fame. As a distinctly Jewish passage gave way to frenzied saxophone blowing, who should appear in the fringes of my peripheral vision, slowly walking directly in front of me? Kendrick Perkins.

Best and Worst of 2008: A Grand Undertaking

2008 just so happens to have been my first year with an iPod.  It goes without saying that this acquisition opened things up a bit.  The process by which we confront and filter overwhelming musical choices can be immensely frustrating, however.  In the face of ever-increasing accessibility, an interesting contradiction exists: Although there is a mind-numbing volume of music a mere few clicks away, how does one know where to begin?  There simply isn't enough time to taste it all.  While I would likely defend the channels I've come to depend on for the gathering of musical intelligence, the process is admittedly limited, flawed, and closed-minded.  Make no mistake, while I pride myself on a discerning and far-ranging ear, I am just as prone to misgivings as anyone else, though I would never admit this to you if were to have a discussion about you and the bullshit that pollutes your iPod.   Contradictions abound, our filters are perhaps as relevant as our musical choices themselves.  

People often try to have you listen to music they want you to like rather than introducing you to stuff they think you would like.  As part of an avoidance tactic, I use Pitchfork, The Onion's AV Club, my dad, brother, Ryan Mcree, Chris Cronin, Pete Albert, Ed Feldheim, James McCullagh, and Mike Mallen pretty exclusively.  My father is an opinionated avante-audiophile snob.  My brother has a penchant for singer-songwriters and math rock that no one has ever heard of. Mcree likes post-everything.  Cro specializes in older stuff I missed the first time around.    Ed has a handle on vintage jazz and blues.  Pete's taste greatly resembles my own.  Mallen's taste is endlessly intriguing.  James jams.  Pitchfork and The Onion's AV Club make up the balance of my musical cabinet.  Pitchfork cannot be trusted to help rule anything out.  With the exception of a few darlings and debuts, they hate almost everything.  Within this flaw, however, festers its strength: If Pitchfork likes it, you can bet it's worth your attention.  The Onion's AV Club is considerably more everyman in its approach and tone.  Disappointingly, however, the material they choose to review is decidedly pedestrian.    

It is through these channels -as well as the sparing use of a few others - that I have come to listen to the following over the course of the past year:  

Muse- Absolution

Elliot Brood- Ambassador

John Zorn- At the Mountains of Madness

                     Bar Kokhba

                     Invitation to a Suicide

Battles- Mirrored

               Battles

The Mars Volta- The Bedlam in Goliath

Modest Mouse- We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank

Band of Horses- Cease to Begin

                              Everything All of The Time

The New Pornographers- Challengers

Pelican- City of Echoes

TV On The Radio- Dear Science

Avett Brothers- Emotionalism

My Morning Jacke- Evil Urges

Fleet Foxes- Fleet Foxes

Trans Am- FutureWorld

Spoon- Ga Ga Ga

             Gimme Fiction

Les Savy Fav- Go Forth

                         Let's Stay Friends

Animal Collective- Here's The Indian

                                   Strawberry Jam

                                   Sung Tongs

M.I.A.- Kala

Wilco- Sky Blue Sky

Sigur Ros- Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaust

Glenn Kotche- Mobile

Bloc Party- Silent Alarm

Kevin Drew- Spirit If...

Brazilian Girls- Talk to La Bomb

The Books- Thought for Food

Vampire Weekend- Vampire Weekend

Grizzly Bear- Yellow House

Ween- La Cuckaracha

Beirut- Gulag Orchestar  

In an attempt to account for our ever-dwindling attention spans, and to actively combat a recent lack of inspiration on my part, I am going to attempt to write concise reviews of the best and worst of my 2008.  Please stay tuned.