It used to be that at the end of every year, I’d devour every best-of music list I could get my eyes on. Finding new sounds that I hadn’t heard was exciting, and comparing my favorite records and songs to those of critics I respected was both fun and validating. But I’m older now. I have a son at home. I think I’m receptive to new sounds but it’s not nearly as important as it once was that I hear them. It doesn’t help that, as I’ve been saying for years, streaming as the main way to listen to music only makes it more disposable than ever. It also doesn’t help that everyone from Rolling Stone to Pitchfork and points in between have embraced the Poptimist movement to its fullest. I know it makes me a dinosaur, but I still (for the most part) need guitars in my music. Sorry, Cardi B, you might actually be great but I also don’t give a shit what your music sounds like.
Despite that bummery intro -- would I have it any other way? -- I still enjoyed music this year. I might not feel it as deeply and I might not seek it out as voraciously as I once did, but I still like it and I still have opinions on it. Instead of a top 10 albums list, I narrowed it down to three favorites: concert, song, and album.
Concert of the year:
Arcade Fire - Summerfest, Milwaukee, WI / The Smashing Pumpkins - The Sylvee, Madison, WI (tie)
Arcade Fire - Summerfest, Milwaukee, WI / The Smashing Pumpkins - The Sylvee, Madison, WI (tie)
I’ve already written about my experience seeing the Smashing Pumpkins, so I will write about Arcade Fire here.
I did not know what to expect when I went to see Arcade Fire this past summer. What I know about them as a live act is that they’ve been touring arenas and amphitheaters that they have mostly struggled to fill. I know that their last two records have been mostly disappointing. I also know that they have a tendency to be on the pretentious side. Needless to say, my expectations were not very high.
I can honestly say they were met and exceeded.
Arcade Fire may not be able to fill venues full of people, but they absolutely fill it with sound. Whether it was their dance-inflected newer material or the earnest orchestral indie-pop of their first couple of LPs, I felt the music in my guts even in the cheap seats. (Side note: The cheap seats have always been and always will be my natural habitat at concerts. Viva la proletariat!)
Two images from that concert remain in my mind from that night.
One is of a middle-aged woman next to us who danced and danced throughout the show. She had the absolute time of her life, and all I could think is that I wish I could enjoy something as much as she enjoyed Arcade Fire. (This is also the genesis of something I might never be able to stop seeing, and that is of the middle-aged woman having something like a religious experience at a rock show. She was also at Foo Fighters and The Smashing Pumpkins.)
Two is that of Will Butler, multi-instrumentalist, totally banging the shit out of a drum like it was the only thing that mattered at the end of “Wake Up,” the last song of an exhausting two-hour set. I know it’s cliche -- it is a line from a Bob Seger song after all -- but he and his bandmates left every ounce of energy on the stage that night. I will not soon forget it.
Song of the year:
Eels - Today Is The Day
2018 was, quite honestly, fine for me. I have a wife, a kid (who mostly took up all of my time), a job, and a car. I am Denis Leary’s “Asshole” come to life. But despite things being just hunky dory in my own little bubble, I know that the world at large is actually kind of shitty. I don’t think I need to recount the ways in which the world is shit; just read a newspaper that isn’t owned by a rich right-winger or watch news that isn’t Fox News.
This is where “Today Is The Day” comes in. It is salve for a wounded soul. It says that not only can it get better, but that it will and we can to get to work on that right now. Mark Oliver Everett, who more or less IS Eels, actually has a knack for writing these types of songs. After reading and watching the worst humanity has to offer this past year, I am goddamn glad that he does.
Also receiving votes: Jeff Rosenstock - “Yr Throat,” King Tuff - “Psycho Star,” Wild Pink - “Lake Erie,” Father John Misty - “Mr. Tillman,” The Interrupters - “She’s Kerosene”
Album of the year:
Wild Pink - Yolk In The Fur
New sounds may have been harder to come by this year for me, but there were still albums that I enjoyed. Old masters with nothing left to prove - John Prine, Paul McCartney, and Willie Nelson -- all had fine efforts. The ladies of rock made their voices heard, in particular I liked albums by Mitski, Courtney Barnett, and Snail Mail. Indie rock stalwarts The Decemberists put out their best LP since 2006’s The Crane Wife.
But my vote goes to relative newcomers Wild Pink.
I preordered this LP based on teaser single “Lake Erie,” which made it kind of like old times. When it finally came in the mail, a week before street date, I might add, I was not disappointed.
The warm synths and keyboards remind me a little bit of Dire Straits, the guitars that cut through the poppiness are straight out of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Lead singer John Ross’s delicate vocals are reminiscent of, ugh, Chris Martin of Coldplay. Each song flows into the next, not unlike The Beatles’ Sgt Pepper. (comparisons end there, however)
It all adds up to a sound that may not be cutting edge, but it is a sound that I could not get enough of.
I should have more to say about my favorite album of the year, but I do not. It worked for me, but it may not work for you. I think that works as not just a statement on an album, but the year 2018 as a whole. Happy new year, and may it be better than the last.
