small immunities

In personally chronological order. We’re gonna do these ten at a time, folks, so as not to clog up anyone’s dash too badly. Anything I at least considered for best-of-the-year for more than five seconds is in bold; anything I’ve already gotten rid of part or all of it is in strikethrough.

1. Fujiya & Miyagi - Ventriloquizzing: Reviewed it. Haven’t listened to it in a while. Liked it, would recommend it, but really at this point their work is basically Transparent Things and everything else, right? Sorry guys, I feel bad for feeling that way, but listening to this or Lightbulbs just makes me want to put “Cylinders” on repeat again (I read your starsign before I read my own).
2. James Blake - James Blake: Well, I still think his cover of “Limit to Your Love” is stunning, and when I’m in the right mood this rather fragile, pensive album hits me hard. But I haven’t been in the right mood for a while. I probably respect it more than love it, and wonder if I would think less of it if I’d been familiar with his earlier work first. But come on, “Wilhelms Scream” is pretty impressive regardless.
3. Mogwai - Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will.: Their most gorgeous album? Certainly the first one that felt like they integrated their early and late work. Look, The Hawk Is Howling is still boring (I went back and checked), but these guys have been ridiculously consistent otherwise, over albums, EPs, live shows, remixes, etc. And screw the subgenre stuff - Mogwai have been (for me, at least) one of the most vital rock bands of the last two decades, period. And this album marks the first time when I’ve heard elements of their ‘pretty’ stuff (when was the last time they had a song that reminded me even a little of “Burn Girl Prom Queen”?) sitting at ease with the ‘noisy’ stuff (“White Noise” hooked me the first time I heard it, and “Rano Pano” is a burner). Ever since I first bought Come on Die Young sound unheard as a kid it’s been my favourite Mogwai album, but this one ties it or might even beat it just a little. Plus “Mexican Grand Prix” is the first time my dad’s ever liked this band.
4. Isolée - Well Spent Youth: Microhouse! I always want to hear more/get more into electronic music, but a lot of it makes little impression on me. Hell, it takes reading something compelling before I’ll even check out an album. Friends of mine still rave about Wearemonster, but I just couldn’t get into this one. Although since (as with metal) I tend to only like a small subset of electronic dance people, I don’t necessary give it that much time to grow on me (chicken? egg?).
5. Balam Acab - See Birds EP: I do not remember what a second of this dude’s music sounds like, but my buddy Chris loves him, I decided to give it a try, and I really liked it; I believe the word “gorgeous” was used. More people should make EPs. I like a good EP. This is in the “I should find time to play that again” pile. If I don’t remember what it sounds like after a few more plays, well, that means I should get rid of it (and if I don’t get to it soon, maybe that means the same thing…).
6. Nicolas Jaar - Space Is Only Noise: There are two reasons this isn’t in the “already deleted” pile: people I like and respect keep raving about it in ways that make me suspect I’d really like it, and the one time I listened to it, the album made no sense to me at all. But you know what, I’m listening to the semi-title track right now and it’s annoying me. If I spent enough time with it, maybe I’d come around, but life’s too short.
7. Julianna Barwick - The Magic Place: Seeing her live when she opened for Eluvium was one of the more incredible live experiences I’ve ever had - I hadn’t even had a beer, and I felt high. It also raised the question of whether she’d reached the limits of her looped/echoed/floating voice technique (half an hour was about as much as I could take, I felt like I was about to pass out, albeit in a good way). Well, this album is just about perfect; I’ve listened to it a lot, and pretty much nothing else she’s done, since I first got it. “Bob in Your Gait” might be my favourite thing she’s done to date, and it feels exactly like summer. But even though she introduces new elements, this just feels self-contained; a world unto itself.
8. Radiohead - The King of Limbs: I’ll freely admit that Radiohead got me into music (if anyone remembers the 50 days of songs I was doing there, the reason it stopped at 49 is because I’m still trying to figure out how to write about Radiohead for the last day), and while I don’t listen to the early albums that often anymore, it’s because I played them all enough to inscribe them on my DNA. I’d agree they’re just a rock band - in fact, I’d argue that the band embracing that fact is what made this record and In Rainbows, probably my favourite Radiohead album right now, so good - but they’re making awfully good records these days. I took an odd route into this one, though. First I thought the whole thing was too subdued, colourless, pallid. Then I liked “Lotus Flower.” Then I liked “Lotus Flower” and “Give Up the Ghost.” Then I liked the whole second half. Then I liked the second half and “Little By Little.” Then I liked the whole thing except for “Feral.” Now I just like the whole thing.
9. Desolate - The Invisible Insurrection: I think this is vaguely Burial-esque? I’d go check, except that I’m still relistening to The Magic Place. I downloaded it because Todd Burns (Stylus Head Dictator for Life, currently running the excellent Resident Advisor, my favourite editor) recommended it, and when Todd actually recommends something I pay fucking attention. I remember liking it, but I’ve only played it once; definitely need to go back to it.
10. Low - C’mon: I usually refer to Low as my favourite currently working band, and, well, clearly I’m a pretty big fan (yes, yes, never get a tattoo of a band that’s still going, but they’ve been flawless for long enough that I feel safe). But there’s a certain kind of trepidation you get when listening to a new album by a band you love the way I love Low. Yes, you want the album to be good (and this one is very good, as I write about at length here), but then once the album is good and you adore it, you have to ask… is this just your devotion talking? If this band did make a bad album, would you be able to see it? There’s always something that lets you put those fears to rest; for me, with C’mon, it was probably seeing how fans reacted to the new songs when Low played Toronto the night of our disastrous election. Plus, seriously, go listen to “Especially Me” or “Try to Sleep” and tell me those aren’t lovely.

Next time: Adele to the Mountain Goats.

unbest:

Ian Mathers on Subrosa’s No Help For the Mighty Ones (2011)
(Bandcamp)

I freely admit to not being a huge/devoted metal fan, although when I fall for something I fall hard. And my first listen to Salt Lake City doom rock quintet Subrosa’s newest album was the hardest I’ve fallen for anything in years. I heard “Whippoorwill” via The A.V. Club’s “Loud” column, loved it, downloaded the album super illegally, listened to it on my iPod and just ADORED it start to finish, and now I am going to slip Profound Lore some money for a CD copy as soon as I get paid again. I have been forcing it on as many people as I can manage and will buy a ticket and as much merch as I can manage if they ever make it to Toronto. That’s the way the post-major label era of music is supposed to work, right?

But enough about my perfidy; this was easily my favourite record of 2011, my most-played record of 2011, and the only record I could listen to every day in 2011 without getting sick of it even a little (although I didn’t listen to it quite that often). I like it so much that it’s hard for me to not just babble about it, so let’s stick with some facts: The band is made up of your fairly standard rhythm section and then three female singers, one of whom plays electric guitar and two of whom play electric violin. One of the songs here is a chilling a capella version of the folk ballad “House Carpenter,” but the other seven are all impossibly towering, crushingly heavy and melodic in equal measures, full of rage and defiance of the predominant religious and political systems of control active in North America today. The album is so angry, in fact, that it’s hard to tell whether it’s the vocals or the music that hit harder. And yet, the hooks on this album are so huge that even on the very first listen, from the opening drum salvo and guitar fuzz of “Borrowed Time, Borrowed Eyes,” I was hooked. The violins mostly add a kind of melodic drone to the doomy stomp of the music, and the massed vocals are insanely catchy.

It’s safe to say that even in the metal records I like, there’s nothing else that really sounds like Subrosa, and for whatever reason it’s like this record was specifically engineered to hit the pleasure centers of my brain. If you can listen to all of “Whippoorwill” and not like it at all (even if you’re not already wailing along to “I knowww, there’s nooo, turrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrning back” like I was), I suspect we may want very different things from music.

Ian Mathers is a writer living in Canada.

Oh hey, it’s me again.

Yet more year-end content from me which is not, yet, my own gigantic year-end wrap-up: two blurbs for PopMatters’ Slipped Discs feature, one on Friendly Fires and one on SubRosa.