Photo by colm.mcmullan

Robert Christgau, perhaps the most famous rock critic in history, once called Radiohead the “Only Band That Matters,” a title previously bestowed upon British punk band The Clash. Radiohead has put out seven full-length studio albums and have been called the “Pink Floyd of Generation Y.” Whether or not you listen to them or you believe they deserve it, they are the most critically acclaimed band of the past two decades.

I grew up in a middle-sized town in northwest Indiana: too big for John Mellencamp, but not quite large enough to relate to the Rolling Stones’ portrayal of New York in “Shattered.” I used to sit in front of my parents’ stereo and listen to Beatles’ records for hours at a time. I listened to a dozen CDs a week driving to and from my high school. My best friend used to tell me there were three musical phases you would go through at some point in your young adult life; a Beatles phase, a Led Zeppelin phase, and a Radiohead phase. My Beatles phase came young, and my Led Zeppelin phase was throughout high school. Now I write for a couple of music blogs and spend part of my week doing grunt work at a local record label. I have listened to thousands of artists, I own hundreds of records, and I have never had a Radiohead phase. This makes me wonder if it will ever happen to me. Is Radiohead worthy of a phase in my life, or everybody’s for that matter? In order to answer these questions I enlisted the help of experts and conducted a personal experiment (involving five and a half hours of Radiohead) that has never been attempted.

The Experts

In order for Radiohead to legitimately occupy a plane above all other pop bands they have to contribute more to society than ring tones and record sales. According to Brandon Forbes, co-editor of Radiohead and Philosophy, the band is not just a capitalistic juggernaut.

“We had a pretty good hunch going into it, but putting this book together made it plain to us that there are good reasons why Radiohead has succeeded The Clash as ‘The Only Band that Matters’.”

The book compiles essays about the band itself and its music and lyrics, separating them into categories such as “Radiohead’s Existential Politics” and “Radiohead and the Postmodern.” The overarching theme of the book is that yes, it is possible to have a discussion about the band that goes beyond the surface aesthetics.

As Forbes puts it, “Radiohead’s music points toward philosophical analyses of actual experiences in the world.”

However, Radiohead has impacted more than just the philosophical world. They made a cultural and economic splash in 2007 with the unconventional release of their highly anticipated album, In Rainbows. They decided to allow fans to download the album for whatever price they wanted to pay. The results were mixed, and it is estimated that less than half of those that downloaded the album contributed any money to the virtual tip jar. The album was released physically later, but this attracted much less attention than the initial digital-only sale.

This new method, flawed as it may have been, created a whirlwind of controversy about not only the album itself, but about the entire music industry. D.E. Wittkower, author of the essay “Everybody Hates Rainbows,” says that cutting out the middle men of the recording industry is something that plenty of people would not mind doing.

“Music is expressive, and the idea of transforming something fundamentally communicative into a commodity for sale has always been a bit of a house of cards…From the fan-perspective, music as a commodity has always been only a necessary evil and an unwelcome precondition.”
Any band with enough power to make countless numbers of fellow musicians, authors, and professors muse about their work and cultural impact has to be important. Having established that Radiohead does hold merit in intellectual communities, it is time to answer whether or not Radiohead can have a significant impact on my personal life.

The Experiment

What do Radiohead and I have in common? Nothing as far as I can tell. I have never listened to any of their albums all the way through. To me, this does not seem like such a big deal, but to other music writers it is akin to reporting on professional football for a year and then going on vacation during the Superbowl.
In the interests of science and my own personal edification I listened to all seven of Radiohead’s studio albums in a row. According to iTunes that is five and a half hours and 81 songs. There were three bathroom breaks and a phone call from my mother that stopped the music, but other than that it was smooth sailing on a slow Sunday. When I decide to do something I tend to follow the plan through to completion (unless you count my childhood dream of owning a Ford Probe, which I have put on the back burner for now).

I am not a very good scientist. I went into the experiment wanting to like Radiohead. Often I wonder to myself, do I have an inherent dislike for Radiohead, or as perhaps George W. Bush would ask, is it a choice that I freely make? The only band I ever tried to make myself like was Pink Floyd. I remember having a 7th grade duty to hate them since “pink” is in their name (i.e. must be for girls). Then, somebody cooler than me told me they were the greatest band ever so I sucked up my pride, bought Dark Side of the Moon, and listened to it twice through while sitting in my mom’s minivan. Quickly it became one of my favorite albums, and I still love it.
I have listened to a few Radiohead songs before (I think once in high school I fell asleep listening to Hail to the Thief on a long car trip), but I’m still probably an anomaly in the “indie rock” world. Before I listened to all the albums I liked the song “Karma Police” and I have a previously formed opinion (more later) on the single that vaulted them into the spotlight from relative obscurity, “Creep.”

This did not end up like Chuck Klosterman’s essay where he sets out to watch music videos on TV for 24 hours, only to find out that they loop every couple of hours, so he ends up watching the same videos in the same order all day. Radiohead does have seven studio albums and, as I found out, they had quite an interesting musical evolution. What follows is my account of the day when my view on Radiohead became informed, instead of just based on speculation.

Any Given Radiohead Sunday

Released in 1993, Pablo Honey is the group’s first studio album, which is the first step on my journey to enlightenment. The album art is god-awful and for a moment I consider scrapping the whole experiment and throwing on an old Led Zeppelin record.

1 Song In: The first song on the album is called “You” and it sounds more like R.E.M than what I had imagined Radiohead to sound like. It is rather surprising and I can’t say that I dislike it.

2 Songs In: This is the aforementioned “Creep” and my opinion on it has not changed. Anybody who has played the Rock Band video game or has had a roommate trying to learn guitar knows this song and has heard it too many times. Since it is the second song into my odyssey there is no new context in which I can view it, so I still think it is whiny drivel.

5 Songs In: I’ve listened to four full tracks and I have not heard any break beats or electro-sneezes that I expected to hear. This song is called “Thinking About You,” and if Radiohead was an 80’s hair metal band, this would be their “Ballad of Jayne.”

12 Songs In: “Blow Out,” the last song on Pablo Honey is ending, giving me the first glimpse of psychedelic weirdness that I have previously associated with Radiohead.

15 Songs In: This song, “High and Dry,” is the first song that has legitimately wowed me. It has a sad beauty that kind of sums up the rest of the songs I have heard so far.

19 Songs In: More than half way through The Bends, and this song, “Just,” has woken me from some sort of trance. I was either entranced or napping, but I’m not sure which. This song is what I would call rock and roll and boasts a pretty great guitar solo.

25 Songs In: “Airbag” is the first song on OK Computer, which many consider the band’s greatest accomplishment. In an NME article from 1995, singer Thom Yorke said of the album, “You know, the big thing for me is that we could really fall back on just doing another moribund, miserable, morbid and negative record, like lyrically, but I really don’t want to, at all.”

30 Songs In: I can see what Yorke means now as I listen to “Karma Police.” This album ventures more into outer space, with songs like “Paranoid Android” and “Subterranean Homesick Alien,” as opposed to the introspective bent that the previous albums had. Like The Smiths before them, Radiohead was often labeled as a band to listen to only when depressed, since their lyrics were often self-loathing and melancholy. OK Computer signaled a change in perspective as the band began to comment more on the world around them, as opposed to the world inside themselves.

37 Songs In: Starting the next album, Kid A, right now, and feeling the beginnings of the pain this might inflict on my physical self. I feel a little burnt out but glad I decided to undertake this experiment instead of a Whitesnake experiment. Can you believe the band with one video of a model dancing on the hood of a car put out 11 full-length albums?

46 Songs In: This song (“Motion Picture Soundtrack”) has multiple endings and solidifies my view that Radiohead is adept at choosing the last song on each of their albums. I am enjoying each album more than the last, which I am more than half certain is not because I am developing some sort of disorder from sitting in front of my monitor for so long.

57 Songs In: I just finished listening to Amnesiac, which is the most epic album that I have heard so far. It has thunderous bass, but lacks the cohesiveness of Kid A. The albums were recorded at the same time, but their releases were staggered since the band was opposed to releasing a double album. My mental and physical states are on the brink, but maybe the next album will be full of Metallica covers to keep me awake.

58 Songs In: I am listening to the first song off 2003’s Hail to the Thief, which is called “2+2=5 (The Lukewarm).” This album annoys me already for a few reasons. First, did each member of the band get to choose a word of each song title without consulting each other? I do like the title “A Punchup at a Wedding. (No no no no no no no no),” but I think that probably triggered the trend in music nowadays where bands think it is okay to name themselves Somebody Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin.

71 Songs In: Hail to the Thief, like all of Radiohead’s previous albums, builds on their sound, this time adding a creepiness and feeling of impending doom to each song. At points the album falls short and turns into background music, but it has a handful of quality songs. Also, I think this may be the first album that gives credit in the liner notes for playing the “laptop.” If you are allowed to claim that you play the computer, I think the next Britney Spears album will come with a tome full of liner notes.

81 Songs In or The End: I just finished listening to In Rainbows and it went by like a blur. I like the sound of the album as a whole, but there are not any songs that stood out to me like “High and Dry” or “Karma Police.”

Conclusions

Having consulted the experts and gained firsthand knowledge (maybe a little too much) about Radiohead’s music, I have come to realize a few things. The first is that Radiohead is a great band. Who am I to tell millions of people that a band they love is not worth loving? Such a statement always sounds ludicrous and ignorant when it is about a topic as subjective as musical taste. Even if it is not my perception of them, the world sees them as great and credit should be given where credit is due. The last thing that I learned from my time with Radiohead is that I do enjoy their music and their message, even if I do not fully understand it. Now I understand the hype and I can eagerly follow along as the band teeters on the edge of a break up or contemplates the post-In Rainbows world and the evolving (devolving?) state of the recording industry. I may be a late bloomer, but I feel like I am on the edge of a new musical phase…

Radiohead – 8 Outtakes from Amnesiac EP (2002)

Cross-legged, she on the pavement dumps her Prada bag, a white half moon of nonsequiturs.

Tampon.

Lipstick.

Receipts.

Cigarettes.

Lighter.

Brush.

Yesterday’s gum wad tissue wrapped.

Like an amnesiac, she sees everything, recognizing nothing. He smirks,

Watching over her like flies.

“I am not an idiot.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“You are a fool.”

Car door slam. Engine revs. Tires scream! Hey, did you hear there was an earthquake in California?

In Seattle, news said a man stole a monstrous SUV, led police on a high-speed chase, slamming  two cars. Quiet falls on a full moon.

Her cigarette burns just outside the window.

Amnesiac is the fifth studio album by the English alternative rock band Radiohead. It was released on 4 June 2001 in the United Kingdom, debuting at #1 on the UK charts and #2 on the Billboard Top 200. Amnesiac featured more audible guitar than its direct predecessor Kid A, and unlike that album, it spun off several singles. Like Kid A, it synthesises influences of electronic music, ambient music, classical music, and jazz.

Track List:

1. “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box”
2. “Pyramid Song”
3. “Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors”
4. “You and Whose Army?”
5. “I Might Be Wrong”
6. “Knives Out”
7. “Morning Bell/Amnesiac”
8. “Dollars & Cents”
9. “Hunting Bears”
10. “Like Spinning Plates”
11. “Life in a Glasshouse”

Genre: Alternative rock, Electronic music, experimental

More information @ Wikipedia

I think it might be time to dial back the insanity a little. The last couple of posts were written on a cocktail of no sleep, Amnesiac, and fruit salad. Not the best mixture for churning out thought-provoking yet funny blog posts.

I was just about to start a long and probably very wanky post about how in love I am with a band called the Magnetic Fields, but I’m not going to. It seems like a very pretentious and exclusive thing to write about, and that’s not really what I’m going for here. I want this blog to be accessible, and as unpretentious as possible. It should make it more fun for me to write, and easier for you to read. Win, everywhere.

Also: if you’re reading a post and feel like calling me out on a ridiculous point I’ve made, or if you wish to correct my crappy grammar or even just mock my writing style like some douchebag posing as a Sailor Moon character did earlier this year (admittedly, he made some valid points) did, please feel free to leave a comment. They feed my blimp-sized ego, and they allow me to interact with you, the readers (I presume there is more than one of you).

Now, Instead of going all Art student on you, with lyrical dissection and professions of undying love, I am just going to tell you that I really enjoy the music of the Magnetic Fields and that I think you, blog reader, might enjoy it as well. So without any further annoying ado here, by the grace of YouTube, is one of my favourite Magnetic Fields songs being performed live:

I will be back with a better, proper post very soon.

In music news this week, British indie quartet Editors have just dropped their third LP, In This Light and on This Evening. Over the years, the band has continuously drawn criticism for being too similar to seminal post-punk outfit Joy Division. Well, on this album they’ve tackled these criticisms head on, and turned down the road that so many indie bands seem to go down- by ditching the rock and turning electro. But why is it that bands feel they must give up playing real instruments and experiment so early on? And is it a career-ender, or can it be a positive thing? This post looks at some case studies, both good and bad, to find out…

In theory, bands progressing and experimenting with their sound is a good thing. Looking at an artist’s back catalogue and realising that it’s difficult to differentiate between each album is pretty much a cardinal sin. But it remains to be seen whether all these indie-rock bands are branching out to electronic instruments because it’s a natural career path, or if they are simply experimenting for the sake of experimenting. First up, it’s necessary to look at one of the most lauded bands in recent history: Radiohead.

Case Study 1

Band: Radiohead

Album: Kid A

Number: 4

Released: October 2000

Verdict: Success, of course.

To say that this trend began with Radiohead’s fourth LP at the turn of the millenium would be naive, but it can’t be denied that they helped it push it along a little bit. After the release of OK Computer, still one of the greatest rock albums of the 1990’s, the music world was waiting with baited breath for the follow up. But Radiohead did what Radiohead do best, and surprised everyone by releasing a sparse electronic album entirely different from its predecessor. The opening chords on Everything in its Right Place paved the way for an album that was imaginative, eccentric and sometimes just downright strange. Initially it divided fans and critics, but despite the original disagreement it still stands as one of the greatest albums of the decade. Just a few months later the band surprised everyone again by releasing another album titled Amnesiac, proving that it wasn’t just a once off move. And Radiohead have just kept getting better since.

Case Study 2

Band: Bloc Party

Album: Intimacy

Number: 3

Released: August 2008

Verdict: Questionable

When Bloc Party released their debut LP Silent Alarm in 2004, indie kids everywhere rejoiced at a frenetic, rhythmic and dark but somehow incredibly danceable album. Many critics praised it as proof of just how good British bands can be, and it ended up winning a number of awards. Their second album though didn’t quite stack up to everyone’s expectations, and by the third album Intimacy rolled along, they had ditched their finely-tuned brand of indie-rock completely, and replaced it with a more electronic, dance sound. While Intimacy is possibly their strongest album lyrically, and that central-theme of loss running through the album certainly gives it coherence, there just seemed to be something missing. The urgency of the first album just wasn’t there. Whether Bloc Party return to their roots or continue with this genre remains to be seen.

Case Study 3

Artist: Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Album: It’s Blitz

Number: 3

Released: April 2009

Verdict: A success, mostly.

They say everything that is old is new again. And with the amount of bands at the moment harking back to the dance-synth days of the 80’s, that adage has never been more true. The YYYs third album saw a complete turn around from their raw, garage rock origins. Full of danceable beats, synths and more electronica than you can poke a stick at, the album divided fans but mostly pleased critics, and gained a lot more mainstream airplay. If you consider It’s Blitz as an album on its own without considering the YYY’s history, it’s pretty damn good. But it’s just missing that edge that was so wonderful in their first couple of releases. Then again, Karen O can really do no wrong in my books.

Case Study 4

Band: Editors

Album: In This Light and on This Evening

Number: 3

Released: October 2009

Verdict: Unfortunate

Poor Editors. Right from the beginning they’ve been slammed as being a carbon copy of Joy Division. And with the moody, atmospheric themes and lead singer Tom Smith’s deep voice, it’s definitely understandable. But if you judge their first album The Back Room purely on its music and forget about it’s influences, it’s actually a really good indie-rock album. While the second LP An End has a Start faltered a bit in its haste to please the commercial masses, the stadium-sized rock suited the band well. But this third album sounds like it’s come straight out of a bad 80’s disco. First single Papillon has so much synth it could be mistaken for Eurythmics’ Sweet Dreams are Made of These. An even bigger shame though is that there’s actually some decent tracks on the album. The title-track opener, with Smith’s baritone vocals, is gorgeous. But it just seem like they tried too hard in their transition to electronica. If you can get your hands on bonus EP Cuttings II, it’s much rawer, and much more rewarding.

–

Certainly, only four bands moving into the realms of electronic/dance music in their sophomore releases- even if it’s not a third (or fourth) album- doesn’t necessarily prove the theory. But it doesn’t take much looking to see that there’s plenty more. Is it just because music is inherently cyclical and we’re all going back to the 80’s? Or is this truly a natural progression? Radiohead amongst others have proved that when you can do it right, the results can be very, very rewarding. But it’s the dozens of copy-cat bands doing the same thing just because it’s the ‘in-thing’ that is disappointing. Hopefully Editors can regain some of their credibility with their next release. Or maybe they’ll surprise everyone and actually do something original. Like a hip-hop album. Now wouldn’t that be interesting!

I use the word “best” to describe my favorite 5 bands/artists of the 2000s because I respect my own opinion that much. I don’t really expect you to show it the same respect. Regardless, these are the 5 best bands and artists of the 2000s in no particular order. What you’ll find is the artist name and the albums they’ve released during this decade. Which amazingly enough is drawing awfully close to it’s end. We’ve only got about a year and a half left until the “tens”?

RADIOHEAD (Kid A, Amnesiac, Hail to the Thief, In Rainbows.)

OK, there is some order to my first listing. I think Radiohead is the best band of this decade. Amazingly enough they were also the best band of the 1990s on the strength of OK Computer & The Bends (nevermind Pablo Honey.)

There hasn’t been a band as consistently awesome Radiohead since The Beatles broke up. They don’t seem capable of making a bad album at this point. And their very best albums (Kid A & In Rainbows) set the standard. In my view they are very likely the best two albums of the decade.

BECK (Sea Changes, Guero, The Information, Modern Guilt)

Beck is another one of the top artists of the ’90s that has kept it rocking into the 21st century. In fact I think at this point I’d take his ’00s output over his ’90s (although it was really great too.) I’m not a huge fan of Guero (although it has it’s moments) but the other 3 albums he’s released this decade (include this year’s Modern Guilt) are all excellent.

AKRON/FAMILY (Akron/Family,Meek Warrior,Love Is Simple)

I must particularly recommend their debut self titled album Akron/Family released in 2005. Meek Warrior was actually somewhat of a disappointment for me (although like Beck’s Guero it has it’s moments.) But their most recent album Love Is Simple is a great trip that I do recommend. They are also really excellent live.

I’ve always struggled with deciding on my favorite Radiohead album. So, being the nerd that I am, I decided to come up with an answer once and for all by quantifying it. I already had all the songs rated on iTunes, so I figured I’d total up all the stars, divide by the number of tracks, and get an average rating for the album. Here are the results:

The Bends (1995)
5 Stars: 6 Tracks
4 Stars: 5 Tracks
3 Stars: 1 Track
Album Rating: 4.42

OK Computer (1997)
5 Stars: 8 Tracks
4 Stars: 2 Tracks
3 Stars: 1 Track
2 Stars: 1 Track
Album Rating: 4.42

Pablo Honey (1993)
5 Stars: 6 Tracks
4 Stars: 5 Tracks
3 Stars: 1 Track
Album Rating: 4.42

Kid A (2000)
5 Stars: 5 Tracks
4 Stars: 2 Tracks
3 Stars: 3 Tracks
Album Rating: 4.2

In Rainbows (2007)
5 Stars: 2 Tracks
4 Stars: 4 Tracks
3 Stars: 3 Tracks
2 Stars: 1 Track
Album Rating: 3.7

Amnesiac (2001)
5 Stars: 1 Track
4 Stars: 2 Tracks
3 Stars: 6 Tracks
2 Stars: 2 Tracks
Album Rating: 3.18

Hail to the Thief (2003)
5 Stars: 1 Track
4 Stars: 3 Tracks
3 Stars: 4 Tracks
2 Stars: 6 Tracks
Album Rating: 2.93

Yes, you read that right, the exact albums that I struggled with, Pablo Honey, The Bends, and OK Computer, somehow, garnered the exact same score! Guess I didn’t accomplish much with this exercise.

It’s the return…of one of New York’s finest. It’s been a long time. A really long time since we last heard from Anti-Pop Consortium, the seminal art-rap trio long considered one of our fair city’s underground treasures since their formation in 1997. A slew of singles and four full-length records, most notably 2000’s Tragic Epilogue & 2002’s underground classic Arrythmia, found their way into the consciousness of discerning hip-hop and indie fans. They would find themselves being admired by the likes of Radiohead which resulted in APC being tabbed to open for them during the European leg of the Amnesiac tour in 2001. Unfortunately as the group were in their ascendancy, personal differences tore at the brittle fibers of the music and the band broke up in 2003 as their final record, the collaboration with Matthew Shipp was released. Many, including yours truly, were heart-broken as it seemed just when we had a band to help guide us through the morass that had been the current state of hip-hop in those days, they fell victim to their own inability to work through internal issues.

Welp…fast forward to 2009. Scroll back up and check out the pics. That was APC last night at their record release party for the new record Fluorescent Black released Tuesday via Big Dada. Yup. It’s true. M. Sayyid, Earl Blaize, Beans and High Priest together on stage again wowing the capacity crowd at Santo’s Party House with their blend of mind-bending beats, staccato raps and peerless interplay made mince-meat of everyone in attendance. The group was clearly revelling in their element and looked like they clearly did not want to get off the stage when their set was over.  It’s great to have them back and hip-hop is the better for it.

We need to kill the soap scum!

Anti-Pop Consortium on MySpace
Anti-Pop Consortium on Twitter

“Volcano” by Anti-Pop Consortium taken from the Big Dada release, “Fluorescent Black”

..to 2001 when Radiohead dropped Amnesiac and all was cool in the world…

My dad and I in front of a still from claymotion video in "Experiment" by Nathalie Djurberg

Venice is like a supermodel. All it really has to do is exist, exactly as it is and people will gasp in awe of its stunning beauty. No need for modern architecture, nightlife, particularly good shopping or any attention to be paid to the slightly bad smell or overcrowding. For me, Venice is and will probably always be, the most spectacular city in the world. It does seem kind of unfair however, that Venice just walks it, when other cities try so dam hard. But as with any beautiful model, its nonchalance serves only to heighten its attraction.

It is even more unfair then, that on top of being the most beautiful, Venice is also home to one of the most prestigious cultural extravaganzas in the world – The Biennale : a bi-annual cultural institution/series of events, which includes an international art exhibition that has been running since 1895. Now we have the equivalent of a Supermodel with a double first in Art history and Contemporary Arts from Cambridge. Selfish – but such are the ways of life.

As an avid follower of the sun, I was happy to take up my parents offer of a holiday in Venice a last month because I was aware that our hotel would have a sweet pool and that Italy is boiling in August. I have been to the city a few times before which I figured could excuse me from participating in any form of cultural activity and enable a lot of time for extensive chilling. At this point, the Biennale had not even entered into my thoughts. However once in the city, which has red Biennale signs in virtually every street, I realized that its presence was unavoidable.  Thanks to my arty disposition and my degree in art history, I was unable to relax and so I ditched my plans in favour of some artistic action.

Going on the recommedation of a friend, my primary destination of choice was the Palazzo Fortuny which was described to me as being the “coolest exhibition ever.” I do not doubt for one second the validity of this statement however, I was only able to get as far as the doorstep of this glorious gothic museum. I should probably make one thing clear before delving any deeper into my adoration of Venice and its Biennale. They have it all;  big names, innovative display and diversity in content, but the Venetians make it exceedingly difficult for you to actually see anything. Different exhibits and museums are shut on different days and at different times according to no logical schedule. And so….. although I arrived at the Fortuny on a Monday at 5pm (the timetable stating it should be open until 6pm on Mondays,) I was unable to to get in. To make matters worse I tried everything to utterly no avail: member of the press..give a shit. Art student, nope. Crododile tears…door slammed in face. This really bummed me out because the main parts of the Biennale; Giardini and Arsenale, were closed on alternate Sundays and Mondays, as well as the occasional Tuesday…. or something ridiculous like that ( and I was leaving on Wednesday.)

Anyway to cut a long story short I eventually managed to get into Giardini….whacked Radiohead’s Amnesiac on, on my ipod, (theraputic and atmospheric, perfect for the observation of art) and made my way around the 53rd International Art Exhibition, this year entitled: Fare Mondi, or making worlds. The Giardini or Gardens were laid out in the Napoleonic era and have been the traditional venue for the exhibition since its start. They include the Palazzo della Espozisione as well as indiviual pavillions each built and designed by a participating nation. In the main Palazzo Argentine Tomas Saraceno and his astronomic installation blew me away…

'Galaxies forming along filaments, like droplets along the strands of a spider's web' 2009 by Tomas Saraceno

As did the twisted eden of Swedish artist Nathalie Djurberg, in which mesmerizing claymation video installations ran amongst her giant surrealistic sculptures.

Pavillion wise, with 77 different participating nations and 29 seperate pavillions there was something to suit everyones taste. I was particularly frightened/ intrigued by Japan’s black membrane-like tented pavillion which contained Miwa Yanagi’s massive wrinkly breasted “Windswept Women”

I found Bruce Neuman’s critically acclaimed American entry to be rather uninspiring and I didn’t even get to see the Steve McQueen’s video installation in the British one because they were being all British about it and were the only pavillion to make visitors arrive at certain times and queue to get in. Andrei Molodkin’ sculptural installation for the Russian pavillion, using real human blood was cool, as was the Nordic entry which inventively addressed issues of public and private life, hedonism and excess. Their pavillion which was entitled “The Collectors,” was made to look like the home of a flashy art collector; its retro armchairs filled with naked men and a dead clothed body floating in the pool out back.

The Collectors, Nordic Pavilion

For me Giardini is modern experiential art at its finest.  Venice with its decadent historical architecture and authoritative position within the history of  art, provides the perfect juxtapositional backdrop for the display of international contemporary creativity. The art on display in “Making Worlds,” enables visitors to comprehend the spectrum across which modern art spans as well as the variety of talent in existence at present. Meanwhile the amibiance that Venice exudes invokes a constant awareness of art’s beautiful past and the course of its journey through history to reach its modern state.

The Biennale closes this year on November 22nd and will be hitting the galleries of Venice again Summer 2011.

www.labiennale.org/en/Home.html

www.designboom.com

-SW

Packet Like Sardines In A Crushed Tin Box
Pyramid Song
Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors
You And Whose Army?
I Might Be Wrong
Knives Out
Morning Bell/Amnesiac
Dollars And Cents
Hunting Bears
Like Spinning Plates
Life In A Glass House

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…mostly because if I had to hear “Creep” (or any other song from “Pablo Honey”) one more goddamn time, I was going to kill someone.

Years later, after “The Bends” and “OK Computer” were released, I would roll my eyes when people began to spout off about how awesome they had become, how they had reinvented themselves and were the future of music as we knew it. I chalked it up to a lot of hype, figuring they’d go the way of most other early nineties alterna-bands, showing up on a VH1 special about one-hit wonders to reminisce about their heyday of “Creep.”

Nowadays, I’m older, (slightly) wiser, and a lot more willing to listen to music with an open ear. Because of this, I have to admit that I’ve been absolutely and utterly wrong about Radiohead, their career and their music.

For me, the awakening began with Thom Yorke’s guest appearance on the track “Rabbit in your Headlights” from the UNKLE album “Psyence Fiction.” I loved that song, listening to it over and over again; in doing so, it began to dawn on me that maybe there was more to Thom Yorke than just a whiny voice.

In 2000, a friend burned me a copy of “Kid A,” and I began to tell people that I still didn’t like Radiohead, but that they had created a pretty superb album. And then “Amnesiac” hit in 2001, and someone gave me a burn of that disc. And then “Hail to the Thief” was released in 2003. And so on, and so on.

And so I feel I must take a moment here to make amends:

Dear Radiohead,

You most certainly do not suck. I was just a stupid kid.

I apologize. Please forgive me.

Sincerely,

Justin Shady

It’s now safe to say that I’m an actual fan of Radiohead, which means that I was excited to hear that their first six albums were being re-released as collectors editions this year. This past March, the band’s first three albums were released in two editions (“Collectors Edition” and “Special Collectors Edition”), but I didn’t receive any of them for review.

Luckily, I did receive “Special Collectors Edition” sets of “Kid A”, “Amnesiac” and “Hail to the Thief”, all of which were just released a few weeks back.

Each set includes two CDs and one DVD. The first disc in each set is the original full-length release. The second CD in each set contains rare live performances and concert recordings; included are performances from BBC Radio One, sessions from Canal+ Studios, and a 2003 recording from the “Jo Whiley Show.”

The DVDs in the sets serve as a scrapbook for the band from 2000 to 2003. Collecting live performances from “Later… with Jools Holland” and “Top of the Pops”, as well as a few promotional music videos thrown in for fun, Radiohead fans are given a glimpse into the evolution of the band during this time.

If you’re a fan of Radiohead, chances are you’ve already picked these up. If you’re not a fan of Radiohead, you should really reconsider it. Take it from a recovered Radiohead hater.

I was the creep,

-Shady

Thom Yorke has announced via the Radiohead blog Dead Air Space that he’s written two new songs. The first is titled FeelingPulledApartbyHorses, written and played by him and band-mate Johnny Greenwood, a reworking of a tune dating back to around 2001, the year Radiohead released Amnesiac. The second song is The Hollow Earth, a revised song from The Eraser Sessions. These songs are produced by regular Radiohead collaborator Nigel Godrich, and will be available as a 12″ single or as a free download on 21st September, with commercial downloads appearing on 6th October.

Buenas. Hoy les traigo otro trabajito de Michel Gondry, me encanta su forma de hacer los videos: sencilla e inteligente.

Este video seguramente ya lo conocen, es de una banda que creo que no necesita mucho que decirse para presentarla, ya que hasta en Alfa y Mix 106 han puesto rolas suyas… corrección, la única rola que se atreven a poner porque las demás (en su mayoría) requieren de unas cuantas más neuronas para ser apreciadas, no digo que tenga lo suyo pero en lo personal ya estuvo.

Les dejo a Radiohead con Knives Out, del Amnesiac. Hay que escucharlo, quien no lo haya hecho.

Como dato interesante, chequen que solo se usó una sola toma para hacer el video. Para poder hacer eso se requiere una planeación cabrona, quien haya alguna vez grabado o filmado, lo sabrá.

Packt like sardines in a crushd tin box
2 Pyramid song
3 Pulk/pull revolving doors
4 You and whose army?
5 I might be wrong
6 Knives out
7 Morning Bell (Amnesiac)
8 Dollars and cents
9 Hunting bears
10 Like spinning plates
11 Life in a glasshouse

CD 2
01 – The Amazing Sounds Of Orgy
02 – Trans-Atlantic Drawl
03 – Fast-Track
04 – Kinetic
05 – Worrywort
06 – Fog
07 – Cuttooth
08 – Life In A Glasshouse (Full Length Version)
09 – You And Whose Army (Live)
10 – Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box (Live)
11 – Dollars Cents (Live)
12 – I Might Be Wrong (Live)
13 – Knives Out (Live)
14 – Pyramid Song (Live)
15 – Like Spinning Plates (Live)

Descargar

More than a couple of people have asked me if I plan on writing a response to Pitchfork’s Top 500 singles of the decade list, which concluded last Friday.  I do…but not, you know, until the ACTUAL end of the decade. There’s something a bit silly to me about launching a decade-in-review feature when there’s still almost one 25th of the aughts still to go, but hey, to each their own. But as for responding, I don’t know how I could possibly do so in any kind of constructive sense without falling into the trap of spoiling my own list (which you can expect around late November, early Decemberish).

Lists aside, though, it’s clear that Pitchfork is putting a good deal of work into their retrospective features that are rolling out in the next month, which makes sense. As the definitive tastemaker behind one of the decade’s strongest cultural movements, Pitchfork has a pretty a vested interest in being first out of the gate in structuring their own narrative, even going so far as to call their coverage “P2K” – a vain moniker if it didn’t feel somewhat warranted. The first such piece – Eric Harvey’s “Social History of the MP3” – reads like a more eloquent and comprehensive expression of many of the thoughts that have filtered through this blog over the past three years, and it’s an analysis I want to return to at some point.

But alongside all the formal “P2K” coverage, Pitchfork did something else interesting this week: three re-reviews of Radiohead’s three Capitol Records albums from this decade, timed with the release of new deluxe editions that add live tracks and b-sides. The Kid A review, by Rob Mitchum, predictably and reasonably gives the album a perfect 10 and sets the groundwork for if (when?) Pitchfork names it their “album of the decade” next month. It also builds a cultural framework around the record that’s eerily similar to my own take from a couple of years back. Also predictably, Joe Tangari’s assessment of Hail to the Thief knocks the record down a slight peg, which I don’t take issue with – the record’s rhythm-heavy focus reflects the headspace of the band at the time (see also Yorke’s The Eraser and Jonny Greenwood’s Bodysong soundtrack) but aside from its standout tracks it lacks the melodic core of the band at their best and it hasn’t aged all that well.

But the most interesting of the three reassessments is Editor-in-Chief Scott Plagenhoef’s attempt to reclaim Amnesiac from its “Kid B” status and place it not only alongside the band’s best work, but as a record that actually reflects the decade that followed better than its more-heralded predecessor. It’s a valiant effort, and I completely understand where it’s coming from. But as someone who was slightly disappointed by the record and who has often adopted the “Kid B” moniker to describe it, I’m not sure I buy it.

The jist of Plagenhoef’s argument is that the Amnesiac’s mixed reception is more the fault of the cultural context in which the record was released than the music itself. He goes through a whole series of excuses and blames – that it further alienated “a generation raised on Pearl Jam and Oasis,” that releasing singles made the record feel “ordinary,” that the record was the first of the band’s to be leaked and listened to in piecemeal – before discussing the music itself with glowing praise. Then Plagenhoef concludes the review with his “big statement”:

More than Kid A– and maybe more than any other LP of its time– Amnesiac is the kickoff of a messy, rewarding era in which rather than owning records that were of a piece, we listen and engage with a wide variety of sounds in jumbled, sometimes confusing ways. And Amnesiac sounds like what the dawn of the mp3 era sounded like: disconnected, self-aware, tense, eclectic, head-turning– an overload of good ideas inhibited by rules, restrictions, and conventional wisdom.

It’s a provocative construction, one which got me rethinking my own assessments of both Kid A and Amnesiac. Is Kid A’s status as the final, nostalgic voyage for “the album” the reason why so many of us believe it to be one of the defining artistic statements of the past 10 years? And is the disappointment that some of us felt for Amnesiac reflect our post-millennial anxieties about where music was headed?

Deep stuff. But while I concede that being burdened with the task of following Kid A invariably colours my thoughts on Amnesiac, I don’t think it’s entirely fair to pass the buck and blame “the culture” for the record’s complicated reception. Even pulled out of context, most of the reasons are right there in the songs themselves.

The glory of Kid A is in how the songs are constructed around the soundscapes and atmospheres the band was exploring at the time. It’s a record as much about sound as it is song, and neither element suffers for it. My enduring problem with Amnesiac is that it often attempts to apply the same model of experimentation to songs that hew much closer to the band’s alt-rock past. What results are recordings that sound unjustly “weirded up for weird’s sake.” Songs like “I Might be Wrong” and “You and Whose Army” feel like they’re about ready to explode with energy, but the band keeps them reigned in behind muted distortion and muddled vocals.

If you’ve seen Radiohead perform any of Amnesiac’s tracks live – or listened to the takes of on the I Might Be Wrong live EP – this becomes crystal clear. While live versions of Kid A tracks sound like creative reinterpretations, Amnesiac’s songs sound oddly definitive on tour. “You and Whose Army” bottles itself in and bursts just as it should, and “Like Spinning Plates’” soul comes out when its vocals aren’t stupidly recorded backwards and then played forwards (even if I do miss some of the background effects on the album version).

I won’t deny that the record itself features some of the band’s best songs, and even a handful of their best recordings: “Pyramid Song” and “Life in a Glasshouse” are unimpeachable, and I actually enjoy the redundant-but-moody re-do of “Morning Bell” quite a bit. But then again, the record also has “Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors” which is my least favourite thing that the band has ever put to tape. Moreover, I fundamentally disagree with Plagenhoef’s claim that the record’s song order and flow is more important than Kid A (I nearly gagged when he suggested that you could put “Optimistic” through “Morning Bell” on Kid A in pretty much any order and it would still work). Amnesiac still feels jilted, scattered to me – and not in a good way.

Which renders my biggest pet peeve about Amnesiac even more frustrating: why were unquestionably better songs left off the record? Radiohead have always had great b-sides kicking around, but never have they feel as bizarrely tossed-aside as the ones backing Amnesiac’s singles. There’s the haunting atmosphere of “Worrywort,” the creepy build of “Cuttooth” and – most spectacular of all – the amazing “Fog,” which probably ranks in the band’s top three unfairly-relegated tracks. Two albums of material and no room for “Fog”? Really?

Ultimately, Amnesiac is hardly a failure – we’re still talking about the work of greatest band of the past 20 years here – but hardly a masterpiece. Where Plagenhoef and I agree is that the record represents Radiohead’s first step on a decade-long journey. But where he hears confidence, I hear a failed first attempt to marry the two worlds Radiohead had created for themselves: one where they existed as stellar songwriters and melodic craftsmen, the other where they fought sonic revolutions against the status quo. Kid A exists unquestionably in the latter, but Amnesiac feels awkwardly in between, as compromised as it is challenging. Radiohead would spend the aughts struggling within themselves to bridge this gap, a struggle resulting in solo projects, the fascinatingly-rudderless Hail to the Thief and the near-breakup of the band.

Until, of course, we got to In Rainbows, the confident masterpiece that succeeded where Amnesiac faltered: the sounds and the songs in perfect harmony, everything in its right place once again.

This post will be another beast – a lot of ground I want to cover today:  a little bit of hip hop, some jazz, some Indian funk….plus my take on the new Arctic Monkeys, and on the (cash driven, but) very well done Radiohead deluxe reissues that are now out.

Arctic Monkeys – Humbug

What if Josh Homme produced an Arctic Monkeys album?  What would you think about that?  Well, for those who don’t know, that is precisely what’s happened here.  Obviously, this is the hardest and easily darkest album they’ve made.  The songwriting is definitely still there and maturing, but the music is definitely a lot more bassline driven.  The Homme signature sound is clearly present, i.e. the progressions, drumming, the ghostly/airy effects, etc.  On first listen, it’s not as good as the first two album, but I think that my opinion will change because of the grower feeling I have about this go-round.  Quality look right here.

Slaughterhouse – (self-titled)

In a capsule, a B level supergroup (Royce the 5′9”, Joell Ortiz, Joe Budden, and Crooked I) that’s made a decent album.  If you enjoy a straight banger album, specifically in the old school Beatnuts era mode, you’ll enjoy this.  Every song tries to top the next one in how hard to bangs.  That is the first thing.  The second, and more important, item is the group itself.  They are definitely talented guys, nice lyrical skill and flows….very witty to boot.  I don’t know if any of them will ever “blow”, but then again….it doesn’t matter to me, and it shouldn’t matter at all.  Sometimes, you just have to take things at face value.  And this is for the lovers of banger-style hip hop.  Word to JuJu and Psycho Les (and sometimes Fashion….” We Got Props Over Here!!!)

cover for Volume 1

Various artists – Sitar Beat! Indian Style Heavy Funk, Vol. 1 -4

Ill.  I’ve actually covered this album is an old blog I used to run a few years ago, but I’ve been giving it a lot of run (due to some brainstorming on some Mumbai-based movie ideas I’ve had.)  So I want to give it some more shine.  It’s basically Indian funk from the 60s, 70s, and 80s.  If you’re a fan of film, specifically of the Indian variety, chances are that you’ve heard some of the songs, but the tracks weren’t released or are just recently restored.  Definitely a revelation.  Serge Gainsbourg was – he’s the only NON-Indian among the volumes…that tell you a bit about how big of a deal he was/is.  Lots of material for DJs and producers here.

Blitz the Ambassador – Stereotype

Hip hop and instruments, AND the dude is nice.  Good shit.  It’s not going to be played on any radio station that isn’t located on college campus, or in someone’s basement.  That being said, this is exactly what should be getting played – which is starting to become so common, that’s it cliche in my eyes.  Back to Blitz – this Ghana-born cat is nice, not Lupe or Elzhi or Blu nice….but very listenable.  He’s got a very mature, knowledgeable flow, a person with a valuable world view, which is a nice addition to the hip hop pot.  Mix that with the help from his producing partner Optiks, and the instruments of one of my favs, Hynoptic Brass Ensemble (I need to put heads up on these cats ….hmm..I think I just did.), and you have something people should really be paying attention to.  Quality album, all the way around and good replay value as well.

Skyzoo – The Power of Words (mixtape)

This is the DJ Drama-less iTunes version.  Sky is ill, if workmanlike.  I have to admit that sometimes, I’d get a little bored.  Not because he’s not dope, but it’s just the tone, I think and the beats weren’t always top notch.  I don’t know if he’ll ever be a big name, but for what it’s worth – the mixtape/album is nice, even managing to shine over some of the questionable parts of certain collabs.  He’s got some nice co-signs (via Wale, Talib Kweli) and good beats (via 9th Wonder, Jake One, Khrysis, etc.)  This is that joint to ride out to the barber shop to and then let it play for a minute, before you go in to get your taper fade right.

Robert Glasper (Trio and Experiment) – Double Booked

I’m definitely a long time fan of this guy, so I’m happy to see more work.  The concept of this album is that Rob is double booked for a show with his more traditional “Trio” group at one spot (through co-sign/voice mailer trumpeter Terrance Blanchard).  But then he has an engagement at another spot at ?uestlove’s jam session with his larger aptly named “Experiment” outfit, later that evening.  It’s a cool little way to get both of your acts cohesively on one album, and it make sense….as he is a versatile jazz pianist.  And it completely works.

Radiohead – Capitol/EMI’s deluxe reissues for every album (except apparently The Bends…hmm)(except In Rainbows…which just came out…in Radioheadian scale)

If you do not know me well, know that my favorite musical act PERIOD is Radiohead.  I’m not the t-shirt wearing, make it to every concert, W.A.S.T.E board veteran that you would think I would be.  I’m just a huge fan of the music.  It’s like I enjoy the San Antonio Spurs – my fav. NBA team – but I don’t actually own any gear….it’s just…not that cool to go that far.  However, as any other massive Radiohead fan, new music is always welcome any time I can get my hands on it – even if it’s old music.  What?  Yes…new old music.  It’s very obvious Capitol is basically reissuing their albums, en masse, to help with the wavering bottom line.  At the same time – this is one cash grab I’m taking full advantage of.  All of the reissues feature a ton of dope-ass B-sides, unreleased stuff, and live sessions in various locations, like the Canal + Studios in Paris, or in other international spots like Berlin, or BBC Radio One.  The best thing for me – someone who have all of the albums and EPs….you can purchase the stuff you don’t have individually, via iTunes, specifically the live and the BBC sessions.  I have to admit….Capitol/EMI sorta deserves a pat on the back – they’ve managed to appease fans, and fatten up the shrinking wallet (and Radiohead’s too….they are probably the biggest winners of all).

Radiohead – Pyramid Song…enjoy, heathens.

- Interview with Patton Oswalt, star of Big Fan

- Radiohead’s Kid A re-release gets another 10.0 from Pitchfork almost 9 years later; Amnesiac re-release gets a 9.5 after getting a 9.0 8 years ago

- Idolator: “Everyone Be Cool: Pitchfork Still Hearts Radiohead”

- Rumor is that Megan Fox will play Catwoman in the next Batman film; I don’t see it and neither does Slashfilm

- “Guitar Hero 5″ will let you be Kurt Cobain

- The deets on a box set of recently unearthed Woody Guthrie tapes

- Kenny’s ten reasons why Magnolia is the greatest movie of all time

Thanks to my friend Evan, who alerted me on Monday that some serious Aughties musical canonization was going down this week, I’ve been following Pitchfork’s unveiling of the Top 500 tracks of the decade. As it may be of interest, I thought I’d share my feelings. 

In subsequent posts, I may comment on their impending coverage of the decade’s best music videos and albums, as well as their formulations on the reclamation of pop, the exploration of noise, and the mainstreaming of indie rock. I won’t devote posts to it, though, because there’s a fine line between providing useful commentary and hearing yourself type. And my hunch is that discussing the singles list will suffice, as it presents, by microcosm, a general set of criticisms I’ve long held about the “tastemaker” e-zine.

Covering Pitchfork’s appraisal of the decade in this way makes more sense to me anyway, as the 2000s marked the resurgence of the single. Our increasingly digitized media culture cultivated the need for that one song, found at the click of a mouse or the touch of an mp3 player button or phone pad. That song also tended to get posted on blogs, e-zines, and MySpace pages (however briefly) as a means to define the self or selves (this was a decade when Gnarls Barkley, Brightblack Morning Light, and Crystal Castles could potentially coexist on the same shuffle or mash-up).

So, this list is the first time I’ve seen music of my youth canonized in such a way that it now seems historical. When Pitchfork first did the list half-way through the decade, I was 22 and just out of college; an adult, but only sorta. More specifically, the songs were still new. But having graduated from college twice over and a year into my second post-college job in 2009, I can look at songs from 2000, when I was in high school, and feel my age like many folks who transitioned into adulthood in decades prior.

And now, some nostalgia. A lot of the songs on this list bring up specific memories, images, people, and feelings. I remember my friend Brooke trying to teach me a dance routine to Aaliyah’s “Try Again” for our junior prom. PJ Harvey’s “Good Fortune” reminded me of a high school boyfriend which, in hindsight, speaks to an epic love song’s power to project. I remember a classmate singing the chorus to OutKast’s “Ms. Jackson” to herself in French class. I remember hearing Jay-Z and UGK’s “Big Pimpin’” at a Claire’s somewhere in New York City on a field trip. Radiohead’s “The National Anthem” confused the hell out of me, but I kept playing it at full volume anyway. Missy Elliott’s “Get Ur Freak On” was a confusing song that made perfect sense. And if Daft Punk’s “One More Time” was released when the class of 2001 voted for our song, it would’ve been my pick (I submitted U2’s “Beautiful Day” and Counting Crows’ “Hanging Around”; our song ended up being Aerosmith’s cover of The Beatles’ “Come Together” from the Armageddon soundtrack, for some reason).

Then there’s the rough transition between high school and college. Songs off Radiohead’s Amnesiac and Daft Punk’s Discovery suggest my lonely, uncertain summer before college. I started college, withdrew mid-way through my first semester, and resumed in the spring. This was a “the” time — The Strokes, The White Stripes, The Shins, The Avalanches, and the last album by The Dismemberment Plan. It was also when I started to follow Pitchfork, mostly to avoid writing term papers.

After a summer back home, I applied for a college radio show. It was here that I really started learning about music, and just how much music there was. KVRX maintains a “none of the hits all of the time” policy; if a musical act got a single or video on rotation in a commercial market, they could not be played. While I was there, we pulled The Arcade Fire and Franz Ferdinand from rotation. Some deejays would think that by pulling a musical act they liked out of rotation, we were initiating a taste-based attack on coolness (i.e., undiscovered = good, discovered = bad). While this prejudice existed (and I would certainly perpetuate it at times), pulling an artist embraced by the mainstream out of college radio rotation felt more political to me. “Spoon is on 101X? Great! They’re awesome. Now let’s shine a light on the thousands of other bands who’ll never get that kind of attention.”

Pitchfork made an effort to shine a light too, biases notwithstanding. During my tenure at KVRX, my relationship with Pitchfork became contentious. While I followed Pitchfork, I was also dismissive or derisive of the staff’s opinions (a classic push-pull for many music geeks: we are at once too cool for Pitchfork, yet check to see if we line up with their rulings). As I came into my own as a feminist, I also became more critical of what they covered, how they covered it, and what they dismissed, out of which came, among other things, this blog.

Yet, there are so many songs on this countdown that remind me of that time. I remember my first radio show, when I played Interpol’s “NYC” because I had some vague idea of who they were. I remember exactly where I was when I first heard TV on the Radio’s “Staring At the Sun” and Dizzie Rascal’s “I Luv U.” I remember seeing Spoon perform “The Way We Get By” on Conan and hoping they’d get big. I remember hearing the bass line to Broken Social Scene’s “Stars and Sons” for the first time. I remember fighting The Rapture’s “House of Jealous Lovers” for weeks before surrendering. I remember being unable to avoid The Postal Service’s “Such Great Heights.” I remember playing Broadcast’s “Pendulum” while getting ready for parties. I remember rocking out to The Gossip’s “Standing in the Way of Control” in the deejay booth. I remember LCD Soundsystem’s “Losing My Edge” being one of the go-to songs deejays would throw on for a smoke break when we weren’t quoting from it (I alluded to it in this post’s title). I remember hearing M.I.A.’s “Galang” at a party and having it blow my mind. I remember impromptu dance parties after Alliance for a Feminist Option meetings when a bunch of sweaty grrrls I still call friends would shimmy to Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love” and OutKast’s “Hey Ya!” I remember skanking harder and smiling wider than I ever have with the person I built my life with to Ted Leo and the Pharmacists’ “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?”

In addition, there was Boards of Canada, Wolf Eyes, Feist, Black Dice, Andrew Bird, Ladytron, Devendra Banhart, Destroyer, Hot Chip, The New Pornographers, Deerhoof, M. Ward, Liars, Junior Boys, The Walkmen, Manitoba (later Caribou), El-P, The Go Team, (Smog), Sufjan Stevens, RJD2, The Books, Talib Kweli, Phoenix . . . . The list goes on. If I ever had trouble keeping up with new artists after graduating in 2005, it was only because I had so many established artists to follow.

Of course, my college radio utopia didn’t last. It couldn’t. My monolithic friend group fragmented. People moved, lost touch, became casual, or just stopped being friends. Perhaps this is really when the decade became more to me than a sequence, instead an evolution of time. Late-in-the-decade offerings like LCD Soundsystem’s “All My Friends” and Animal Collective’s “Fireworks” convey this for me.

After college, I acquired Deerhunter, CSS, Hercules and Love Affair, Santigold, Bat for Lashes, Grizzly Bear, Battles, No Age, Be Your Own Pet, Girl Talk, Magik Markers, Vampire Weekend, Vivian Girls, Women, King Khan and the Shrines, and St. Vincent.

Assuredly there will be more new artists for me (and you) to adopt. Just this week, because of the countdown, I picked up on The Knife.

There are artists whose countdown placement evinces moments when we were willing to bet the farm on an act that now seem dated (Death From Above 1979, The Streets, and Klaxons). There are also acts I didn’t “get” but sorta came around on later (hello, Joanna Newsom). There are acts I didn’t know that well in college but came to treasure later (bless you, Neko Case). There are acts I enjoy but could never fully champion (I like you fine, Belle and Sebastian). There are acts I appreciate, but kinda overwhelm me and can’t listen to all the time (Jesus, Xiu Xiu). And then there are acts for whom I just never got the fuss (Fleet Foxes and The Decemberists).

With that said, this countdown plays predictably. Accepting minor issues like what song was selected to represent an artist and where songs fell in ranking, Pitchfork got a lot right. They also got caught up with some songs that I think they’re overselling, and some things they marginalized or completely overlooked. I’ll preoccupy the rest of this post with those flaws.

For me Pitchfork’s big Achilles heel has always been hip hop, primarily because they really only cover mainstream hip hop (Lil Wayne, T.I., 50 Cent, Clipse, Eminem, Cam’ron, OutKast, Kanye West, and Jay-Z — the last three are all over this countdown). And while this isn’t a problem in its own right, it limits how hip hop is defined and what it represents, which, in a lot of commercial hip hop, that still means money, Cristal, whips, blunts, and bitches (though not in all cases). It certainly suggests that the only way for rappers to be successful and culturally relevant is to be part of a corporate mechanism. This seems like something a publication that prides itself on giving visibility to independent artists should re-evaluate. Because, in my mind, if there’s no Busdriver or Jean Grae, I question the validity of the list.

As a result, it largely eclipses underground hip hop which has seen tremendous advancements over the course of the decade, particularly in the states. Talent from labels like Stones Throw, Quannum Projects, Rhymesayers, Definitive Jux, and anticon., along with talent at labels like Plug Research, Mush, Warp, and Ubiquity have created some of the most vital and interesting work in the genre, expanding its sound and its content while working outside a corporate mechanism in the process (anticon. runs as a collective). But you’d never know that if you only read Pitchfork, who  acknowledged a few efforts, primarily from white male label owners (El-P) and instrumental artists (RJD2, DJ Shadow). No female MCs were acknowledged. This may also speak to the dearth of female MCs in underground hip hop, but doesn’t excuse it (I love you, Jean Grae; I love you, Psalm One). My challenge to hip hop fans in the next decade is to try to create online resources as influential as Pitchfork to get the message out. You’ve got guaranteed spots on my blogroll. 

Also, as you may have noticed if you combed through the entire list, only the top 200 songs are accompanied by blurbs from the writing staff. While I understand that writing 300 more blurbs presents its own challenges, I also think it suggests that tracks 500-301 weren’t good enough for a write-up. And this makes me especially sad when many of the women I loved in this decade – Vivian Girls, St. Vincent, Goldfrapp, Sleater-Kinney, Bat for Lashes, Björk, and The Gossip — are thrown at the end and not given any qualifying statements. This especially seems necessary for a song like The Gossip’s “Standing In the Way of Control,” which became an LGBTQI anthem this decade. That would be especially useful to read alongside #18, Hercules and Love Affair’s “Blind.” This is a great dance song that I’ve always interpreted as an anthem for coming out and living life queer. But you wouldn’t know that from Tim Finney’s write-up.

And while I’m heartened by the women who did make it to the top 200, especially women like M.I.A., Beyoncé, Missy Elliott, Annie, and Karen O of The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, who made the top 20, I can’t help but notice that many of these women are pop artists who work extensively with predominantly male producers. I don’t want to suggest that cutting a track with Timbaland or Diplo or Pharell from The Neptunes means that women are robbed of artistic autonomy, as I wouldn’t say that for Justin Timberlake. However, I do take issue with what female artists and what songs get praise. Or even what versions of songs. While the Diplo remix of the version of M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” that features UGK is great, I wonder why her version isn’t enough.

That said, the 2000s were both a hell of an education and a hell of a time. Pitchfork knows it. I know it. Hopefully, you know it too. It was a great time to be alive. I hope the next decade is even better.

PREVIEW: Radiohead’s “Harry Patch (In Memory Of)” MP3
PREVIOUS COVERAGE: Editor’s Pick 146: Thom Yorke and Bon Iver soundtrack New Moon

Radiohead’s newest recorded song “Harry Patch (In Memory Of)” sounds like nothing else they have done before. Perhaps it’s the sweeping string section that sounds as if it belonged in a film score, or maybe it’s the unusually direct lyrics — which were actually taken verbatim from an interview with the last surviving World War I veteran, Harry Patch, whose recent death inspired the song. Either way, the song is beautiful yet mournful and an unsettling anti-war tune whose sound most resembles “Motion Picture Soundtrack,” the last track on Radiohead’s 2000 album, Kid A.

However, it remains to be seen whether this track is representative of their new album’s sound. Thom Yorke previewed a new song, “The Present Tense,” at Britain’s Latitude Festival last month, which sounds like a more mellow “Jigsaws Falling into Place.” So perhaps the band hasn’t totally gotten back on an experimental course (i.e. Kid A, Amnesiac).

The new song “Harry Patch (In Memory Of),” is currently on sale on Radiohead’s waste.co.uk website for just one pound. It’s all for a good cause, since the proceeds go towards the British Legion. So to all the cheapskates who paid a penny for In Rainbows, you should definitely shell out for this one. It’s well worth the pound.

– Charlie Weeks