So what if it's July 3? It's not too early to start sizing up the best of the year so far.
FIVE ALBUMS WORTH A SPIN
Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion (Domino)
You'll see this again on year-end lists. The optical illusion cover is a trip, but that's only the start of it. After its 2007 predecessor Strawberry Jam exposed them to a wider audience, Merriweather lived up to the hype and is the critical darling pick for 2009. It works out that its good, too. Most of their efforts start with a bizarre, repetitive noise you think, "they're not really going to turn that into a beat, are they?" But they do. And it hooks you in. That's why they call 'em hooks.
Peep this: "My Girls," a triumphant ode to the husband and father as provider.
Dave Matthews Band, Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King (RCA)
Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows I'm a teensy bit of a DMB fan, but this is best batch of songs the group's written in 10 years. This slab became a tribute to LeRoi Moore, the band's saxophonist who died during its making, though early made of his early recordings made the final cut. The biggest weakness here are Matthews' lyrics, which run the gamut from tacky to tawdry. Musically, however, DMB hasn't sounded this coherent since Busted Stuff.
Peep this: "Time Bomb," a volcanic eruption unlike anything the band's done before.
Various artists, Dark Was the Night (4AD)
Just looking at the roster of these double disc benefit platters is enough to make one salivate: Feist, Bon Iver, The National, Grizzly Bear, Kronos Quartet, The Decemberists, Iron & Wine, Sufjan Stevens, My Morning Jacket, Arcade Fire, Andrew Bird, TV on the Radio's Dave Sitek. And it's organized by two members of The National for a good cause — raising funds and awareness about HIV and AIDS.
Peep this: "Sleepless," The Decemberists' contribution, a string-laden crooner which eclipses a number of the offerings on their own 2009 offering.
M. Ward, Hold Time (Merge)
The Oregonian singer/songwriter rocks without abandoning his folky roots. On the numbers that don't work as well as they should, Ward still has his distinctive drizzly voice to carry things. This isn't as memorable as Post-War and the production values are a vast improvement over Duet for Guitars #2, but it feels like the next natural step.
Peep this: "Epistemology," which mixes mandolins and a catchy groove to a contemplation about one's own limitations in life and love.
Wilco, Wilco (The Album) (Nonesuch)
Ahh. There we go. This is the more like the record I was expecting in 2007 instead of Sky Blue Sky, a fine effort in its own right, but a bit of a tame one considering they'd just added uber-guitarist Nels Cline to the roster. The fact that it's nearly self-titled is apropos — it combines Wilco's many strengths and, track by track, assembles a sort of "here's what we've done so far" effort. Some tracks rock, some tracks meander beautifully, some tread that cozy Sky Blue Sky landscape. It's all here.
Peep this: "Wilco (The Song)." See below.
FIVE SONGS WORTH YOUR .99 CENTS
Bon Iver, "Blood Bank" from Blood Bank [EP] What the heck is this song about? Pregnancy? Donating blood? Who cares. Its whispery melancholy keeps you coming back. It's also Justin Vernon's best lyrical effort to date ("Ain't it just like the present to be showing up like this?").
Bob Dylan, "Beyond Here Lies Nothin'" from Together Through Life You might've caught it in HBO's trailers for the second season of "True Blood," but if not, this gives you a pretty good glimpse of Bobby D's 33rd studio record. Accordion sparks a devious tune and, after a decade of it, Dylan's rusty death rattle is now weirdly comforting.
Grizzly Bear, "Two Weeks" from Veckatimest Given the hype, the album didn't (hasn't?) grab me as much as I expected, but this song is dangerous. I hear the comparisons to Dr. Dre's "Still D-R-E," but I just don't care — this virus is more contagious than swine flu.
U2, "Magnificent" from No Line on the Horizon The album was touted as the second coming, but for me, U2's 14th pie didn't quite hit all the X's. Like many experiments, there are times when it doesn't work at all and times when it really does. Count "Magnificent" as one that does, even if Bono sinks to stating the obvious ("I was born to sing for you"). It's a shame the rest of the record doesn't crackle like this.
Wilco, "Wilco (The Song)" from Wilco (The Album) It's nice to see a band whose taken itself so seriously at times relax a little and pen a self-aware anthem to its fans in the process. Jeff Tweedy's songs are full of jokes and nearly poetic phrases, but so rarely do you have the experience of the band telling you that they'll love you.
FIVE SONGS I DIDN'T EMBRACE UNTIL 2009
(I mean, hey, this is my blog!)
Depeche Mode, "I Feel You" from Songs of Faith and Devotion (1993) Skipping the track for years because of that first hideous 10 seconds of skreetching noise, I kept listening to find there's an interesting song there. And the keyboard-fueled chorus is even sort of triumphant.
Peter Gabriel, "Down to Earth" from the Wall•E soundtrack (2008) I loved the movie, but the song didn't grab me until I saw it again on DVD. It's a perfect fit for the film, but what really ices it is that Gabriel — a lover of music from around the globe whose incorporated a vast variety of sounds — works as sort of an ambassador inspiring our futuristic descendents as they return to our home planet.
The Magnetic Fields, "The Book of Love" from 69 Love Songs, Pt. 1 (1999) The "series finale" of ABC's "Scrubs" may have introduced millions to the Peter Gabriel version, but hearing it made me go back and revisit the original with new appreciation. Gabriel's version is nice, but that's the problem. It's too nice with its strings and his relatively smooth vocal. This song is about a cynic coming to grips with his sentimentality — it needs the unethusiastic droll of Stephin Merritt.
Josh Ritter, "The Temptation of Adam" from The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter (2007) Ritter, the son of neuroscientists, has built a reputation as a stellar lyricist. I think I'd long overlooked this effort because of its lack of a distinct chorus, but I was sorely mistaken the apocalypse never sounded as metaphoric and romantic as it does when the pen's in Ritter's hand.
Steely Dan, "Dirty Work" from Can't Buy a Thrill (1972) Dismissing the group for years as too geeky and cheesy for their own good, I finally learned to stop worrying and love Steely Dan. Clever and musically adroit, they're still all the things I used to hate, but like a friend you've known for a long time, now I find these quirks endearing instead. "Dirty Work" proves to be an especially guilty pleasure, its keyboard textures and horns supplying a firm layer of cheese, but there's some undeniable funk here. And it has a conscience, too!