Freeze That Verse: Aaron's Favorites, 2012

1. R. Kelly, "Write Me Back"

Bravura soul form a bravura soulman. The singer's a student, rebuilding from lush, gently shifting blueprints drawn decades ago, alive to their possibilities today. Says it himself: love has the greatest vision of all time.

2. Goat, "World Music"
A furious, mindbending stew of nearly every sound blurted out to fuck with your head in the Twentieth Century--from psych and drone to metal, Afrobeat and pastoral folk. Recklessly borrowed, played with abandon.

3. Kendrick Lamar "good kid, m.A.A.d city"

A tour of King Kendrick's life, years before that title became appropriate. Woozy, jazzy and menacing, narrated by a shapeshiting MC, at turns thoughtful and impulsive, but always true to himself.

4. Miguel, "Kaleidoscope Dream"
His five 2012 EPs are also a must, collectively the flowering of an R&B auteur. Miguel's a suave oddball--his compositions run from grown and sexy to achingly needy--unafraid to throw out an idea, look the listener in the face, and dare you to join him.

5. Spiritualized, "Sweet Heart Sweet Light"
A sound born from Spaceman's latest, darkest chemical experiences. An album dreamed from a sick bed, shuffling towards a transcendence it realizes through celestial rock and roll.

6. Café Tacuba, "El Objeto Antes Llamado Disco"
An ebullient blur of fluttering, ringing, propulsive noises, artful in the most subtle and spectacular ways.

7. Dinosaur Jr, "I Bet On Sky"
Choppy waves of riffage clash up against the pointilistic clarity of J Mascis' solos. Alongside J's voice, as high and whiny as his Jazzmaster, the sound is as massive and breathtaking as ever, maybe a little warmer.

8. Tame Impala, Lonerism

Drenched in flange, swimming synth and clattering drums, Kevin Parker's dense, enormous visions radiate outwards--just beyond comprehension, easy to get lost in.

9. Tennis, "Young & Old"
Songs fashioned from Beach House guitar lines, untangled and exposed to the sun. Featuring not only 2012's acest deployment of organ, but the sweet churn of Patrick Riley's guitar and Alaina Moore's heavenly sighs.

10. Rick Ross, "Rich Forever"
The finest product the Bawse has distributed thus far, not simply consolidating his success, but justifying it. An appropriately monstrous and expansive set of beats forms the bed for Ross and his business partners' cartoon villain games.

The Concertgoer: J Mascis, Kurt Vile & Fauna

There's a moment during Dinosaur Jr shows, usually during the encore, when J Mascis rips into the opening chords of "Freak Scene." Five seconds later, when the drums and bass kick in, the roof has already been blown off. Two and a half minutes in, after Lou and Murph drop out, J returns to those opening chords and croaks

Sometimes I don't thrill you
Sometimes I think I'll kill you
Just don't let me fuck up will you
Cause when I need a friend it's still you

ceding that last line to the audience. It's cathartic, every time, and the lyric is a great metaphor for Dinosaur Jr's internal dynamic and live performances--brilliant but inconsistent, fractious, and almost accidently life-affirming. It's also the only moment during Dinosaur concerts that spotlights the laconic Mascis, and he basically surrenders it.

So a solo acoustic show by Mascis leaves a lot of questions, despite some obvious precedents. The tour follows an album, Several Shades Of Why, that's mostly solo and largely acoustic. But with no band to hide behind--or blast out noise with--Mascis actually seemed comfortable and engaged. He occupied the spotlight modestly, with a hint of charm. He even shared an anecdote--at Dinosaur shows, Lou Barlow handles all the banter--about how Murph's taste in cassettes resulted in his Eddie Brickell cover. It seems the Dinosaur drummer favored Zappa in the tour van, but introduced Mascis to the song "Circle Of Friends" on the road back in the 80's.

A seated Mascis began the show with newer material. It was fantastic live, Mascis sounding present in a way he isn't always on Shades. The album's best songs--"Is It Done," "Listen To Me," and the title track--cast Mascis as a forlorn troubadour. It's a new role, but there's always been a hint of John Fogerty and "Dead Flowers" Jagger in his voice. As on the record, the loose, Laurel Canyon vibe fits naturally within the Mascis landscape of confusion and self-doubt. On Dinosaur records, Mascis buries this emotion inside the maelstrom; on this new one, uncertainty takes the forefront. A few songs got away from Mascis, however, as they do on Shades. But Mascis was at ease and in control--it's always hard to tell, but it seemed like he was enjoying himself.

He made liberal use of a pedal that transformed his acoustic Martin into something electric-sounding. Mascis employed the pedal more often as the show went on, and brought out a number of Dinosaur songs. "The Wagon," "Little Fury Things," and "Thumb" sounded great, still resonant at lower volumes. A couple tunes could've used the full Dinosaur treatment, notably "Ocean In The Way." The filter's fuzz couldn't quite match the wild precision of a true Mascis solo, even with Mascis playing.

The highlight this evening was a whiplash "Not You Again." There was no "Freak Scene," but "Again" mimics the bouncy noise-pop and drawled self-doubt: "I got no advice bout anything/Just fuck it up yourself." And the way the crowd responded, it could've been "Freak Scene." J spat out the last lines fast and off-beat, a bit of self-sabotage during an unusually enlivened show.

Playing before Mascis was his touring partner, Kurt Vile, who made a brief appearance during J's set. I've encountered Vile's music sporadically, and mostly, it has failed to connect. I find it diffuse and underdeveloped, in the way that lesser Atlas Sound songs are. Live, this was not an issue. Vile and his equally long-haired band, the Violators, transform even the singer-songwritery moments into straight rock and roll. Vile's songs are rock as a bedridden autodidact might write it--Bradford Cox again being a good reference point. The Violators play loud, ending many songs with frenzied jams. But as long as Vile remains such an indistinct presence, I can't see this band getting much better. Not every group needs a Jagger, but until Kurt Vile's delivery becomes distinctly Vile, his music is doomed to be just good rock and roll.*

Which is not to say I didn't enjoy Vile and the Violators--they were a pleasant surprise. So were the openers, Fauna. A Minneapolis group from the 90's, which once included Linda Pitmon, Fauna reunited recently after seventeen years on hiatus. As I walked in, the group was playing with a flautist, cribbing from Loveless, and doing so pretty well. Sans flute, they sound quite a lot like Teenage Fanclub. All their songs are at least a minute too long, but they seemed thrilled to be on stage, namechecking Where You Been and playing like men excited to escape their dayjobs--as high school teachers or IT guys, if I had to guess. They also had an excellently packaged CD that, when propped open, becomes a theremin.

*Strange as that sounds...

Aaron's Favorites, 2009

1. Dinosaur Jr, Farm
At first the songs seemed too long, the lyrics lazy even by Mascis standards. But beneath his slacker veneer, J has always been a perfectionist, a weird visionary for a sugary thrash no other band even dares attempt. Turns out the extended jams and warm production just give Dinosaur--as good a trio as has ever lumbered--more room to soar.

2. The-Dream, Love Vs. Money
An update of Dirty Mind in the post-crunk era. Unlike the Purple One, Dream isn't a game-changer, but he and collaborator Tricky Stewart's lavish, gorgeous songwriting--interlocking beds of synths, loverman coos, gang chants, and elastic rhythms--is miles ahead of the competition.

3. Wye Oak, The Knot
Wye Oak's 2007 debut was an often beautiful, occasionally awkward shotgun marriage of folk and shoegaze. The Baltimore duo's second disc tends towards the latter, and goes places the band simply couldn't two years ago. Jenn Wasner's plaintive vocals still keep both feet on the ground. Her guitar's mournful too, but the fucking thing sounds massive.

4. Morrissey, Years Of Refusal
"All you need is me," our hero intones, brashly. I believe him. As a vocalist, he's untouchable--operatic, masculine, nimble--and his band powers through the album's fantastic rockers and only slightly less-great ballads with aplomb. Oscar Wilde's favorite album of 2009.

5. Amadou and Mariam, Welcome To Mali
Vocalist/guitarist/songwriter Amadou Bagayoko and his vocalist/songwriter wife Mariam write songs completely their own--ringing and clear, with melodies at once accessible and elusive. An all-world set of collaborators help bring their visions to vivid life.

6. Sonic Youth, The Eternal
No new tricks here, but SY sound fiercer than they have in ages. Thurston Moore and Lee Ronaldo's fuzz-squall alchemy continues, with some typically cool-sounding vocals on top.

7. Raekwon, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Part II
Unlike many of his peers, Rae has never been a natural on the mic. But what he lacks in the agility department he makes up with pure grit. OB4CL2 is miles better than its predecessor, just harder, with better beats, ace guest rappers, and some brutal OG wisdom.

8. Flaming Lips, Embryonic
Mindfuck music, in the form of an unexpected and very welcome left turn. Shit, it's not anthemic even once! While one of your speakers spools out bad-trip synths, the other blasts nightmare bass and spider guitar.

9. The xx, The xx
The sound of slow burn. These absurdly young upstarts make lust music, somehow synthesizing the aims of Sparhawk and Timbaland while infusing their songs with a potent negative space.

10. Camera Obscura, My Maudlin Career
Expert indie-pop. Tracyanne and Co. have spent as much time studying the C86 songbook as their purely heart-pained colleagues, but The Obscura have evolved into a symphonic, even muscular mope-rock outfit.

Massive Furry Things

Tuesday will see the release of Dinosaur Jr's ninth album, Farm. It's their second disc following the 2005 reunion of the original lineup. The first of those albums, 2007's Beyond, was my favorite album that year, and remains my favorite Dinosaur album (sorry, You're Living All Over Me, you're a close second). I first heard it in May 2007, and it was a total revelation--J Mascis' towering torrents of guitar noise seemed to bury the apprehension and bewilderment in his drawled lyrics. I loved them both.

I later became an enormous Dinosaur fan, and it'd be an understatement to say that the release of Farm is a big deal around these parts. I preordered the album the first day it was available, and it arrived in the mail yesterday. I got the special 2xCD edition, with four bonus tracks, and as one of the first 200 people to preorder, I got an autographed Dinosaur poster(!). I listened to the album once while a friend was over, so I thought I'd share my thoughts on Farm during my second listening, track by track:

1. "Piece By Piece"--A melodic rocker with some monster riffing, par for the course as the first track on a Dinosaur Jr album. While not quite "Freak Scene," "The Wagon," or "Almost Ready," I nonetheless refuse to complain about a song this good. The guitars are warm sounding--if there was one legitimate criticism of Beyond, it was that it did sound a bit sterile--and Mascis' voice is really buried in the mix. 5/5

2. "I Want You To Know"--One of the songs released in the run-up to Farm, the stuttering rhythm and guitar line initially irked me. They still do, though I've warmed to the song a bit. It's remarkable, however, how much the reunion of J, Lou and Murph can sound like Green Mind/Where You Been period Dinosaur--during which Lou was kicked out of the band and Murph only ocassionally provided the drums. Murph really hammers the cymbals on this one. 3.5/5

3. "Ocean In The Way"--A bit more languid than the openers, and in 3/4 time, which I don't think most of J's songs are. I honestly wish I could hear the vocals a bit more, and I say this as someone who counts There's A Riot Goin' On, Exile On Main Street, and Murmur as three of his favorite albums. The song slows just after the 2-minute mark, with some quite nice bursts of sustained notes. Features an unusually slow guitar solo. 4/5

4. "Plans"--Slower yet, and with an opening riff that evokes some of the more heartbroken moments on Beyond. Chorus: "I got nothing left to be/Do you have some plans for me?"--hands up if that reminds you of "In A Jar." The chorus is answered with J's wail: "I know you do"; it looks corny on paper, but it's great to hear the country twang in his drawl again. Rather long at 6:42, but the album itself kinda sprawls. It's actually lovely. 4.5/5

5. "Your Weather"--Obviously a Lou song from the first moment onward, it's got the tunefully dissonant vibe he perfected with Sebadoh. I could actually see Jason Lowenstein writing something like this, and in any case it totally sounds like three-quarters of Bakesale. More bass-driven than anything that preceded it. 4/5

6. "Over It"--Just fucking absolutely sweet. J's guitar opens with a high-pitched and super catchy squeal, multitracked over other layers of his own shredding (I hope he's able to pull this one off live). The squeal actually adorns very little of the song, but the entire track has an unstoppable, punkish momentum to it. 5/5

7. "Friends"--The riff here wants to be at least three things at once, and while J can obviously play the thing, it could have used a little more time in the oven. The most appealing parts are a descending guitar line and the interplay of multi-tracked Jazzmasters towards the end. 3.5/5

8. "Said The People"--At 7:42, this is the third longest track in the Dinosaur catalog. Starts slowly, with Mascis communicating regret more through his guitar and voice than his lyrics. While his guitar has always been crucial, an incredibly expressive instrument, J's lyrics were always central to me. On this album, however, I can hardly hear them (not nearly as much on this track), and from what I can hear, Lou is right that they're not J's best. His subject matter is hardly new--alienation--but on Farm Mascis' lyrics are about as nimble as his vocal range, whereas usually they hold considerable mystery. This track could've been more concise, obviously, but there's seems to have been a logic to stretching it out. Malkmus would understand. 4/5

9. "There's No Here"--Insistent, aggressive instrumentation, especially from J and Murph, make this more of a throwback to early-period Dinosaur than anything we've heard so far (it's kind of "No Bones"-y). A towering post-chorus riff sounds more like the stuff of more recent vintage, but goes well with the rest of the song. The production here is much warmer than anything from Bug, say, and it likewise suits this track. John Agnello, who engineered this disc, also produced Sonic Youth's recent and fantastic The Eternal, which sounded way more metallic. 4.5/5

10. "See You"--Vaguely funky in the way that certain moments on the Sire albums are. It's a warm, elastic funkiness unique to J's guitar. Mascis' vocals hardly sound like words, but his pleading tone works well. 4/5.

11. "I Don't Wanna Go There"--The single longest song on a Dinosaur Jr studio album; the success of "Pick Me Up" on Beyond seems to have emboldened the band to indulge. A cacophonous ball of confusion with a super-long (and awesome) solo that begins midway through the track and lasts for almost 4 minutes. Shit, I doubt there's more than a couple people on this planet who could even play that. 4/5

12. "Imagination Blind"--The other Lou song on the record, with a huge chorus that sounds right as Farm wraps up (no "Poldeo"s here). Though his other contribution was climate-themed, this is the one that pummels like a hailstorm. 4.5/5