1.
The Kills
Midnight Boom
Domino Records

Alison Mosshart and Jamie Hince spent years living in one room together, they hang out with Kate Moss and they play music like they’ve got needles hanging out of their arms. But despite their image as abnormally stylish junkies, all press reports indicate that they’re generally well-behaved vegans.  Still, if the whole persona is just an act, they’re reeeeeeeeally good at it.  [Side note:  It's Kate, apparently, who wears the pants in the Moss-Hince household.  Or at least the brass knuckles.*]

I first encountered The Kills when their song Monkey 23 played at the end of the excellent French movie The Beat That My Heart Skipped, and then again when they performed the awesome I Call It Art on the mostly silly M. Gainsbourg Revisited compilation. I’d heard their name before that, but ignored them because they came out at more or less the same time as the Stills and the Thrills, and I couldn’t really be bothered.

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(Forgive me if today’s reviews of my three favorite albums of 2008 aren’t among the best pieces of criticism ever posted here.  But, you know, I’m hungover after hitting the Zinfandel too hard at last night’s Daily Dose Christmas party, it’s Friday, etc.)

2.
Beach House
Devotion
Carpark Records

Like the wonderful Marine Girls, Beach House are a duo with a deceptively summery name.  If the name brings to mind summertime frolic and bikini-clad co-eds playing volleyball, think again; this Beach House is like a summer place in the middle of February, with ominous waves crashing in the distance and maybe someone performing some sort of pagan rite on the front lawn.  Singer-organist Victoria Legrand doesn’t sing so much as read incantations, and Alex Scally’s languid guitars are in no hurry to push her along.

The slowness is the Baltimore pair’s appeal.  These might not be the kind of songs you get stuck in your head all day, but they are the kind you want to listen to again and again.  Well-crafted and often beautiful, and they linger not for the sake of being pretty, but more as a gentle reminder that sometimes there’s no reason to be in such a damn hurry all the time.  Songs start abruptly and fade out surprisingly quickly, to make sure you’re paying attention, but they all follow the same formula:  gentle guitars, Churchy organs, Legrand singing like she’s got all day to tell you something.

Her voice isn’t exactly stellar, but that’s an asset.  As she reaches for high notes in Heart of Chambers and Astronaut, you can’t help but think that she has something really fundamental about life figured out.  Something Zen-like.  “Please, be my baby,” she sings in Astronaut.  “Don’t mean maybe.  Or not.”  I sometimes wonder what America would be like if its millions of office workers got to listen to albums like this instead of the aging crap that fills most adult contemporary playlists.

Devotion came out in February and I listened to it a lot for the first couple of months, putting it away once it got warm outside; then, when fall returned, it didn’t leave my CD player for probably six weeks.  It’s that kind of album.

Watch!  Beach House, Gila
Beach House, Heart of Chambers

(Forgive me if today’s reviews of my three favorite albums of 2008 aren’t among the best pieces of criticism ever posted here.  But I’m morbidly hungover after hitting the Zinfandel too hard at last night’s Daily Dose Christmas party, I’m writing this at six thirty in the morning, and also there’s a monsoon outside that for some reason keeps making my doorbell ring.)

3.
Portishead
Third
Mercury Records

Back in the nineties, spies were cool.  The Cold War was over, and espionage was chic.  Portishead, coming out of the same gloomy seaside city as Tricky and Massive Attack, saw the appeal and transferred spy music onto bleak electronics, fitfully scratching records and making love songs like All Mine (from their second album) sound like epic struggles that could alter the fate of the universe.  (Also, best video ever.)

Nowadays, espionage is more likely to remind people of nasty things like waterboarding.  Even James Bond isn’t quite as carefree as he used to be.  And so, like record scratching, songs like Sour Times now seem like artifacts from distant, more stylish era.

So when Portishead announced via charmingly misspelled Myspace bulletins that they were working on new material, I was briefly afraid it would sound badly dated, like a group of old-timers trying to recapture decade-old success.  Certainly, making fans wait over a decade for new material can lead to impossibly high expectations.  But when the trio started posting demos on their Myspace, I was ecstatic.  These songs were different.  Weird.  Special.

Beginning with a Portuguese spoken intro by Claudio Campos (a Capoeira instructor explaining something about the rules of three), the album soon rushes into Silence, an unusually percussive song that builds for two minutes before letting you hear vocalist Beth Gibbons, who is (thankfully) funereal-sounding as ever.

Songs build and build and then end abruptly.  Lyrics and song titles are vague as ever, but this album has unexpected sonic diversity.  Deep Water is a folk song with male backup singers, and Magic Doors mixes programming with a hurdy-gurdy.  The Rip starts out folky but doesn’t end that way, and Machine Gun mixes a harsh Blue Monday-ish beat with sounds that could be from a 1983 fantasy movie.

My favorite song, today anyway, is Nylon Smile, a haunting, gloomy breakup number.  “I never had a chance,” Gibbons says at the end of it, the music cutting out beneath her, “to explain exactly what I meant.”

Ever cinematic, a short film for single Magic Doors is currently screening in theaters around the UK this month.

Watch! Portishead, Machine Gun

Portishead, The Rip

(Today and tomorrow I’ll be finishing up the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making.  And yes, I will try to get them all done by tomorrow, even though I’m DJing the Dose Holiday Party tonight.  Wish me luck!)

4.
Erykah Badu
New Amerykah: Part One (Fourth World War)
Universal/Motown

“Mommy I’m scared,” a tiny little voice says towards the beginning of Erykah Badu’s CRAZY New Amerykah album, and listening to Badu’s first full album in eight years you know what she means. This record, it’s worth repeating, is CRAZY. CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY.  Crazy wonderful, but also crazy crazy.  Crazy.

The album’s only single was Honey, the hidden bonus track. It’s telling because Badu, who debuted with an explosion of hair wraps and Levi’s ads in 1997, sounds like no one else these days, especially anyone you might hear on hip-hop radio.

This album is so weird, and so intense, and so wonderful, that I feel like I can’t even describe it.  So, I’ll just make a list.  This album contains: a Curtis Mayfield sample, really creepy liner note art, an allusion to the 1976 film Network, a shout-out to Louis Farrakhan, a crazy jazz break, a song recorded in Sun Ra’s studio, a lively countdown to the bonus track, and a four-minute intro produced by legendary jazz composer Roy Ayers.

Luckily, it’s also got some good beats; The Healer, for instance, has the kind of deep bassline that makes me wish there was a decent soundsystem somewhere in my life.  And the songwriting is good, too.  Really good.  And, of course, Badu could sing the screenplay to The House Bunny and make it sound smart and beautiful.

Possibly the craziest thing about the album, though, is the number of producers that were involved, because, batshit though it is, New Amerykah sounds like one person’s strange, crazy vision.

Volume 2 will be out in February.  I can’t wait.

(And, in case you want one more reason to love Badu, check out this video.  She’s kind of my hero.)

Listen!  Erykah Badu, The Healer

(Today and tomorrow I’ll be finishing up the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making.  And yes, I will try to get them all done by tomorrow, even though I’m DJing the Dose Holiday Party tonight.  Wish me luck!)

5.
The Raveonettes
Lust Lust Lust
Vice Records

If you’re unfamiliar with The Raveonettes, the opening track of last winter’s Lust Lust Lust album might impress you with its intensity,  a barrage of glorious feedback that the Danish duo somehow manage to squeeze into their sexy pop songs.  But if you’re familiar with the group’s previous output, you might be surprised for another reason: the song is five minutes long.

On their first two releases, 2002’s Whip It On EP and the 2003 full-length Chain Gang of Love, not a song went over three minutes; each one was loud, catchy, and concise, stylishly gloomy and fun to dance to.  But by the time the Pretty In Black album came out in 2005, the songs were pushing four minutes.  Unfortunately, the longer songs seemed designed to make up for a lack of ideas, or something, because that album sounds like a band who got tired of their schtick; the feedbacky take on rockabilly sleaze wasn’t so novel anymore, and even a Ronnie Spector guest appearance couldn’t liven things up.

But after a three-year break, the pair is back with their best album yet.  They ditched the session musicians and now they sound alive again.  Plus the production is leaps and bounds better than on their previous album.  Expelled From Love sounds like a migraine, with metallic hammering punctuating the fuzz and Sune Rose Wagner’s gently effete vocals.  Dead Sound and Blush are the kinds of catchy singles that people dance to in trendy hangouts on the CW.  You Want The Candy is pop perfection, and Sad Transmission sounds like a tap number from a Jesus and Mary Chain musical.

Most people ignored this album, because that’s what people do with bands that were briefly trendy six years ago, regardless of quality.  Which is a shame, because Lust Lust Lust is the year’s best brooding slow-dance album.

Watch!  The Raveonettes, Dead Sound
The Raveonettes, Blush [OMG an Atonement fan video!!]

(Between now and Friday I’m counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until Friday. Although yes, now I’m behind. Damn it anyway.)

6.
Sam Phillips
Don’t Do Anything
Nonesuch Records

At forty-six, Sam Phillips can look back on a pretty weird career.  She broke out in the early eighties as, essentially, the Christian Cyndi Lauper.  Then she changed her name to Sam and gave up on the Christian thing, releasing the (very excellent) Indescribable Wow album in 1989 with the help of Van Dyke Parks and her husband, T-Bone Burnett.

Over the following fifteen years, she had a minor commercial breakthrough (when the whole female singer-songwriter thing was happening) and then lapsed back into relative obscurity, though she did appear in Die Hard With A Vengeance, of all things.  And had something to do with Gilmore Girls, too, although I’m not sure what because that show confuses me.

In 2004 Phillips divorced Burnett. She produced Don’t Do Anything herself, a first, and it would be easy to call this a “divorce record.” Admittedly, the album does start with the line “I thought if he understood he wouldn’t treat me this way,” and describes all kinds of uncomfortable relationships over its twelve songs. But Phillips’ songs have always been about heartbreak and awkwardness, so lyrically I’m not sure that Don’t Do Anything is any different than her nineties almost-hits I Need Love and Baby I Can’t Please You.

The guitars are rumbly and dissonant now and Phillips sounds resigned to sadness; but like Elvis Costello or Aimee Mann, Phillips wraps her sadness in great pop melodies and gives you the feeling that she’s not quite as helpless as she sounds. But unlike Costello or Mann, she doesn’t wrap her feelings up in puns and weird musical concepts and kooky rhymes. This is a straightforward rock record with straightforward songwriting. And while that’s probably not the road to commercial success*, it does make for a great album.

Watch!  Sam Phillips, Don’t Do Anything

[*It spent two weeks on the Billboard Heatseekers chart and Amazon currently ranks it #10,150 in album sales.]

(Between now and Friday I’m counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until Friday. Although yes, now I’m behind. Damn it anyway.)

7.
Lykke Li
Youth Novels
Atlantic Records

Sometimes I don’t give people a fair chance.  When Pink first hit the scene in 2000, for instance, I ignored There You Go on the grounds that she was being pushed as the female Sisqo.  It wasn’t until months later that I realized that Pink was completely awesome.  (Was, mind you.  There’s no excuse for So What.)

And now I realize I made the same mistake with Lykke Li, the Swedish singer that I initially ignored on the grounds that the blogosphere’s kajillion Robyn enthusiasts all thought Lykke was the second coming.  And, unlike everyone else, I don’t get the big woop about Robyn; she bugs me, frankly.

I guess part of the reason I didn’t believe the hype is that Youth Novels is so unassuming.  Produced by Bjorn Yttling (from Peter Bjorn and John), the album’s pretty spare for a pop record.  Tonight is an epic ballad that avoids histrionics, and Little Bit only hits at the sultry jazz that inspired it.  The most enthusiastic song, Breaking It Up, features handclaps and a bunch of kids singing the chorus, but even that’s very restrained in comparison to anything you’d hear on pop radio these days.

more »

(Between now and Friday I’m counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until Friday. Although yes, now I’m behind. Damn it anyway.)

8.
The Magnetic Fields
Distortion
Nonesuch Records

“You smell like a sewer, but you don’t make a sound,” Stephin Merritt sings to his Zombie Boy on one of the more romantic tracks on Distortion, the first Magnetic Fields album in four years. “No blood ever drips when I widen your holes,” he continues, sounding as droll and lovelorn as ever.

Another highlight of the album is The Nun’s Litany, sung by country-ish vocalist Shirley Simms: “I want to be a dominatrix, which isn’t like me but I can dream. Learn S and M and all those gay tricks, and men would pay me to make them scream.”

My favorite track, though, is Drive On Driver, a song about a rich guy who can’t keep the girl he loves. “Take me to the airport,” he says (or she says, since Simms is singing.) “I need to be extremely far away.”

more »

(Between now and Friday I’m counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until Friday. Although yes, now I’m behind. Damn it anyway.)

9.
Lil Mama
VYP: Voice of the Young People
Jive Records

If there was any kind of sense in the world, Lil Mama’s debut would have been one of the best albums of 2007. After all, Lipgloss, her universally-loved hip-hop track about fruity cosmetic products, was that summer’s most delightful single. I even once saw a whole group of people spontaneously start dancing to it when I was in line at the Nordstrom e-Bar.

But, for some reason, her label waited ten months to put out the album. TEN MONTHS. That’s like a million years in pop terms. In the meantime, she became a judge on America’s Best Dance Crew, lost her mother to cancer and, by the time her album dropped, didn’t seem so Lil anymore.

What could have been a novelty album was surprisingly eclectic. Mama raps about a crackhead mother and an abusive boyfriend just a couple of tracks before she sings a love song about how she’s a mermaid. There’s a girl group-inspired song and one with an interpolation of The Wheels On The Bus. She sings about teen pregnancy, a dad in jail, and about how she’s too good to be a one-hit wonder. And, of course, about her lipgloss.

more »

(Until the end of the week I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until Friday. Although yes, now I’m behind. Damn it anyway.)

10.
Silje Nes
Ames Room
FatCat Records

Silje Nes was born on the largest fjord in Norway, though Ames Room, her debut album, was recorded after she moved to the rainy city of Bergen. A trained drummer, Nes played more or less every instrument she could find to record her album, with everything from guitars and cello to programmed electronics and effects pedals combining cautiously to make spare, pretty songs that seem capable of floating away if you’re not careful.

Nes’s voice is what I really like about the album; it’s high and breathy without being cutesy or annoying. On Giant Disguise she almost sounds like an airier Hope Sandoval, while on Shapes, Electric she coos like an excited newborn. And in Recurring Dream she sounds almost breathy, at least up until the point where she starts half-whistling.

more »

(Until the end of the week I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until Friday. Although yes, now I’m a behind. Damn it anyway.)

11.
Santogold
Santogold
Downtown Records

Brooklyn-via-Philadelphia singer Santi White first appeared on record on the GZA’s 2002 album Legend of the Liquid Sword; the next year, her punk band released their first album, which was produced by somebody from Bad Brains. Last year she sang a Jam song on Mark Ronson’s album. And now, at the age of thirty-two, she put out one of the most talked-about debuts of the year.

By refusing to let herself get categorized, the woman now known as Santogold hops genres from song to song, sounding like Siouxsie Sioux one minute (My Superman) and Christine McVie the next (Lights Out). She also manages to sound distinctly like MIA (Creator), Selector (Say Aha), and Nelly Furtado (You’ll Find A Way). She’s got a lovely pop song called I’m A Lady, but also has grody rappers Spank Rock guesting on her reggae song.

more »

(For the next ten days, I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until next Friday. Although yes, now I’m a day behind. Damn it anyway.)

12.
The Last Shadow Puppets
The Age of the Understatement
Domino Records

One of the nicest surprises of 2008 was The Last Shadow Puppets, a side-project of the Arctic Monkeys’ Alex Turner. While his main group is really overrated and frankly kind of blah, The Last Shadow Puppets debuted with one of the most compelling sixties throwback CDs I’ve heard in a long time.

While lots of British bands these days seem content making jerky and overpronounced rock that you can’t dance to, the Puppets go back farther in time for their inspiration; combining the Zombies’ hazy melodies with the young Scott Walker’s habit of hammily overdoing everything, The Age of the Understatement is an album that floats back and forth between trippy ballads like The Chamber and bombastic orchestrated epics like the title track.

more »

(Between now and next Friday, I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until next Friday. Although yes, now I’m a day behind. Damn it anyway.)

13.
The Chap
Mega Breakfast
Ghostly International

The crunchy guitars and glitchy beats that kick off The Chap’s delightfully pretentious third album only give you a hint about what’s in store for the rest of the album.  They Have A Name is lunkheaded and a lot of fun, even after you realize that the heartthrob they’re singing about is mostly known for hitting the ladies.

In Fun And Interesting, moody-sounding verses clash delightfully with a refrain by a glammy choir:  “Come on, come cloner!/ Clone me another me!/ My generation needs another me!/ Me and me!”  Silly, yes, but also hilarious, even after six months of listening.

more »

(For the next ten days, I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until next Friday. Although yes, now I’m a day behind. Damn it anyway.)

#14.
Death Vessel
Nothing Is Precious Enough For Us
Sub Pop

The voice of ex-Providence resident Joel Thibodeau is hard to mistake; it’s high. Really, really high. And thin. Really, really thin. Pre-pubescent, even.

This could be annoying. If listening to Radiohead makes you want to kick Thom Yorke in the shins because he sounds like he’d be too wimpy to fight back, then I would avoid this record. However, if you can ignore the initial shock of Thibodeau’s voice, then I highly recommend this, because it’s a really lovely folk record.

Thankfully, it avoids overproduction; the music builds itself up naturally, so that you hear the words without being distracted too much by the voice that’s singing them. Exploded View buzzes along with subtle harmonicas and a guitar bit in the middle that you could easily dance to. The Widening has a honky-tonk piano, and Belt of Foam has oddly stirring bells and sad-sounding horns, all used to great effect.

more »

(For the next ten days, I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until next Friday. Although yes, now I’m a post behind. Damn it anyway.)

15.
Dungen
4
Kemodo Records

Imagine, if you will, that you are having a dream. And in this dream, you’re at the Factory, hanging out with Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick and maybe Candy Darling and that one crazy one that Martha Plimpton played in that movie that time. The Velvet Underground are on stage, but tonight they’re joined by a special guest. It’s crowded and there’s lots of trippy lights and film projections and stuff, and obviously you’re on something, but it looks like… Could it be? Yes, it is… That’s Schroeder playing the piano! Schroeder’s playing on this hour-long version of Sister Ray!

It’s so much to think about that you have to step outside for a minute, maybe get some air. But you’re still in that dream, and in that weird dreamy location-changing way when you step outside you’re in the middle of the woods. It’s cold, and there’s some hippie people there drinking PBR and talking about records. “Wait a second,” you think. “How did I get to Northhampton!” But the folks seem nice, and you like their beards, so you sit down by the campfire and crack open a Pabst and ask somebody to pass you the vegan cookies.

And then all of a sudden, it’s the seventies. You’re on a game show, and there’s lots of blinky lights. The sets move around and the host is wearing a red suit. He’s holding a really skinny microphone. He asks you about the places where you’ve made whoopie. But you don’t know what he’s saying because he’s speaking Swedish. Strangely, you are happy about this, as though having something in Swedish makes it all somehow less embarrassing.

And then you wake up, and suddenly you know exactly what the new Dungen album sounds like.

Listen! Dungen, Ingenting är Sig Likt

(For the next ten days, I’ll be counting down the list of my 20 favorite albums of 2008. Obviously I didn’t hear every album that came out–although I did hear quite a lot of them–and obviously personal taste factors into this quite a bit, so I can tell you now that if you’re looking for gospel or metal recommendations this isn’t the list for you. But let’s not squabble, let’s just appreciate all the nice music that folks are making. I’ll be posting about two albums a day, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, from now until next Friday.)

16.
Future Clouds and Radar
Peoria
Star Apple Kingdom

The return of the eight-song album makes me really happy. People seem to have finally (finally!) realized that CDs don’t all need to be 75 minutes long just because they physically can be.

My favorite eight-song album of the year is by Austin’s Future Clouds and Radar, a group that make pretty power-pop with fake British accents. The follow-up to their double debut album [Who does that?!], Peoria is full of catchy melodies, odd instrument choices, solid lyrics and, best of all, Harrison’s very Robyn Hitchcock-esque voice.*

“She talks and I’m wrapped/in my white suit, like a full-body cast” starts the sad but pretty Mummified, which might be the best song on the album. “But there’s room for both of us/ in my cool sarcophogus.” The song goes on for seven minutes, with a weird improv-y sounding piano interlude. Harrison’s sort of nuts, I guess, but this translates into a well-made album a lot better than, say, the last Of Montreal record.

Peoria plays like a two-sided record; tracks 1 and 5 sound like singles, and tracks 4 and 8 are longer, weirder things. I like when bands do that. And the kooky production (horns, echoes, some kind of inhaling sound on the instrumental Mortal 926) manages to prevent the songs from sounding the same. And at thirty-four minutes (including two long songs), you can listen to it repeatedly without tiring of it.

Listen!  Future Clouds and Radar, Feet on Grass

(*This year I’ve been very into singers that sound like other singer, like Scary Mansion’s Cat Power-y album and Von Hayes’ Evident Eyelid, which sounds more like Guided By Voices than most Guided By Voices albums do.)