Ted Leo And The Pharmacists announced that their Matador Records debut, titled The Brutalist Bricks, will be released on March 9th. First single “Even Heroes Have To Die” can be heard below.

Ted Leo and company are playing a show at the Middle East Downstairs this Saturday with Titus Andronicus and Wallcreeper – unsurprisingly, it’s sold out.

- I never noticed how commonly the blue-orange contrast is used on movie posters

- Interview with director Jason Reitman

- Seven movies with nameless main characters

- AV Club Inventory: Seventeen particularly peculiar Beach Boys song

- A new Ted Leo and the Pharmacists album has been announced

- Pitchfork’s Top Music Videos of 2009

- Sterogum’s most anticipated albums of 2010 has albums from The National, LCD Soundsystem, Panda Bear, Toro Y Moi, Vampire Weekend and Liars on it

Not licensed pharmacists

Lately, every music writer from scores of media sources has been talking until they’re breathless about four small words that take on stratospheric proportions in some peoples’ minds: Best. Of. The. Decade.  And it would be very easy, rather enticingly so, to peruse through my iTunes library, pick out my favorite albums, and chime in from my tiny soapbox.

Some music outlets have presented trends of the past decade, like technologies that have revolutionized the way casual and devout fans attach themselves to artists. There’s a lot to discuss in that arena. That’s evidenced in the fact that I couldn’t get through my first paragraph without mentioning iTunes.

Frankly, I don’t have the time to offer a thoughtful essay on every topic pertinent to musical sounds and shifts of the decade even though I could, as could many other scholars and shills, some in much better form than me. For that reason, a list seems to be an easy format. Bullet points without the jumbled snarl of footnotes and rebuttals to encumber them would certainly cater to my already hectic holiday schedule. Basketball and football, in the same months! It’s madness! But another unexpected hurtle that I came across as I started to explore this buzzing, rich area of discourse is that there’s truly so much to say about music from this decade. You could jot down a handful of items, but if you’re paying any attention at all, you’ll probably have way more to add. Then by the time you get up to help yourself to a beer, you’ve composed something that looks like your notes from your ancient Chinese history lecture.

I don’t want to subject anyone to my horrendous written take on Lao Tzu and the Bronze Age. Instead of an outline, I’ll offer some thoughts on certain ideas that got a lot of mileage in the aughts, if only because of their absence. Plus, I still plan to pay some respect to a few of my favorite songs and artists from the last nine years. This is a music blog, after all.

Where Have All the Labels Gone?

When I saw Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at the Great American Music Hall, they headlined at a Lookout Records showcase. It was, to use the parlance of the time, the shit. Representatives from the label passed out bright yellow bags full of bumper stickers, fliers, a still-handy tape cutter for CDs, and two compilation albums on which to test the handy cutter. One woman working a booth sized me up, proclaimed “You look like a teacher,” and gave me a shirt that bore the assertion that Corporate Radio Still Sucks. The label celebrated the people at the concert as much as everyone in the audience cheered in response to the bands. I proudly pulled my new shirt over the dress I was wearing and moved right to the foot of the stage. I never do that, even though it’s just about impossible for me to see anything if I don’t position myself there.

It helped that the main act’s set was one of the most exciting concerts at which I had ever been present. Bay Area bands such as the Oranges Band and Communiqué opened with gusto. Then Ted Leo proved why critics refer to him as the hardest working man in indie rock. He beat the top of his skull with a tambourine during “The Ballad of the Sin Eater.” He erupted into falsetto as exuberantly as most people tear into bags of Doritos. He made the music hall full of calculatingly decorated San Francisco cool kids shake it like preschoolers.

Some things haven’t changed since that 2003 show. Corporate radio is still alive, albeit barely, and sucking just as much as ever. Ted Leo tours as rigorously as he did at the start of the aughts. This December, he’ll follow a sold-out show at the Bowery in New York City with stops in Spain and the UK.

But time hasn’t been as benevolent towards other things from that night. That T-shirt is long gone, probably a casualty of a hasty trip to Goodwill or car theft. Sadly, Lookout Records hasn’t weathered the decade well either. Last April, the head of Little Type Mailorder, the label’s online sales distributor, passed away. All sales through the Lookout website have ceased. But that was the most recent episode in a series of bad luck. There was the notorious reverse-no-backsies move by Green Day in 2005 when the band pulled their EPs and two full-length albums off the Lookout catalog. Operation Ivy did the same in 2006.

While those losses took place, the role and relevance of all record labels were put into a tailspin as file-sharing made it easy for listeners to discard careful studies of a label’s offerings in favor of cherry-picking singles. It’s tempting to latch onto the image of some tightly-suited fat cat in a corporate high-rise office pounding a meaty fist onto his desk as he curses all the kids with their computers and decides which person’s dream to exploit next. It’s difficult to remember the point when a record label served as a base, how the label helped navigate listeners through various artists’ work before Amazon or Pandora or iLike took the reins. No one should forget the contributions to modern music culture of such labels as Kill Rock Stars, Matador, Merge, and the recently beleaguered Touch and Go, who released Ted Leo’s last record.

You can’t disparage the ease of access not only to music, but to information about the music that interests you. Maybe it’s in that electrically charged space that ushers interest into the world, the distance between the short girl in the front row and the band on the stage making her dance, where both big and small labels should be paying the most attention.

• “Timorous Me” ~ Ted Leo and the Pharmacists ~ The Tyranny of Distance ~ Lookout

I have found the nexus at which punk rock musicians and struggling journalists who’ve written about them collide, and it is TJ’s.

Yesterday at reg in the midst of the inescapable writhing mass-of-humanity shitshow that is a sunny Sunday afternoon at Brooklyn’s favorite grocer, I was ringing up the purchases of a young, groovy looking couple in refreshingly good spirits considering aforementioned shitshow that often causes much grumbling among other customers (note: YOU ARE HERE ALSO TAKING UP SPACE).

The girl looked at my name tag which lists my hometown as “Hilton Head, S.C.” and asked me how long I’ve been in New York, if I came directly from South Carolina, etc.

The guy turned to her and said, “Oh, that’s where we played that show that they said it was like the ‘first punk show’ ever.”

Strange gears began to come alive and click together in my head as an improbable slide of memory pushed in reminding me that, not only had I heard that comparison before, but — hold on a second — I wrote it.

Turns out the guy was Marty “Violence” Key, the bassist for Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, who I interviewed last year before their head-explodingly nonsensical (but awesomely embraced by the five punksters on Hilton Head, four of whom worked at the newspaper) appearance at Stages on the island.

It included this:

Question. We did a little bit of research, and we think this may be the first punk show in Hilton Head history.

Answer. I used to go out with someone who lived on Hilton Head. I used to actually go down there a lot and visit her and we’d hang out and see shows in Savannah.

But there was one night where some ska band that I actually knew from New York was playing at like some crazy frat bar, and we went. And I remember her being so freaked out, like, ‘God, this is so weird, there’s actually a band that’s not like the String Cheese Incident or Widespread Panic or something that’s playing here.’

Wow, but I would have figured since then, that since there are kind of ‘punk’ shows everywhere, I’m surprised to hear that I’m the first.

Q. How does that feel?

A. It’s exciting. It’s auspicious. I had no idea.

I stammered an excited confession to Marty that hey! that was me, I interviewed Ted before that show, and how we at the newspaper spent months laughing at how ludicrously out of place the power pop political punk would sound beside the manicured golf courses of sedate Hilton Head, said how their show at the club between a tobacco shop, Harris Teeter and time-share salesroom was the equivalent of the band walking inside an Applebee’s and beginning to thrash out “Bomb. Repeat. Bomb.” next to someone’s Quesadilla Tower. I reveled in the anarchic pairing of it as I got ready to leave the always pretty but limitedly exciting Lowcountry for Brooklyn. I even wanted to take the rare action of buying a shirt at the concert but the dollars had to be saved for the months of poverty and couch-surfing that would ensue as I made my way to BK.

“That show was weird, but we had a great time,” Marty said.

Marty said he remembered Ted saying how odd it was that there was this guy from Jersey (me) living in South Carolina doing the interview.

“Wow,” Marty’s wife said, “I guess there are some cool punk people on Hilton Head.”

Before I realized who they were, I had already told the couple I approved of all of their purchases. “I don’t tell people when I disapprove of their purchases, but I make sure to tell people when I approve.” Then had some combo of veggie pasta dinner in the works, complete with Smart Sausage. And my favorite: a six pack of Simpler Times lager. Punk rock.

I told this to Guide editor Jeff Vrabel later and he remarked it was double cool because you always wonder how much these artists retain from the hundreds of shows they do over the years. In the waning days of my Island Packet tenure, we pushed hard for this show, under the auspices that even if no one in Hilton Head had any idea who Ted Leo was, they damn will at least have heard of him by the time the show’s over. We ran four weeks’ worth of buildup for the show, with a different reason each week why you need to see the band, such as this one.

Part of it was the repressed excitement after spending four years living in the live music desert, where the annual Hootie and the Blowfish concert was about the only thing to break the monotony (though they have recently booked Conor Oberst, Loretta Lynn, Social D and Snoop Dogg after I finally left after FOUR YEARS OF SUBLIME COVER BANDS.)

Wednesday was the anniversary of the day I quit my full-time, decent-paying job as a beat reporter at a daily newspaper (covering a news event of national interest) to throw the dice on a move to Brooklyn with little more than gas money and willpower saved up.

Now here we were, crossing paths in Brooklyn again by the random circumstance of the register-assignment system. I’ve got a few steady writing gigs (but not enough to live off) and The Pharmacists just finished recording their new album in Brooklyn, and we both buy vegetarian food from TJ’s and drink Simpler Times beer. One or two of our fellow punks are still at the paper, but they’ve been hit with pay cuts and furloughs. Not punk rock.

They’re playing a show at Bowery in December, and you bet we’re planning to go. I think I’ll buy a shirt this time.

BONUS: Ted’s new song, “One Polaroid a Day,” from See Emm Jay:

Apologies for the late reporting but I hope to be all caught up with my AVERSE assignments by day’s end.  Paul is not afraid to ride me, hard.  Let’s flash back one last time to the CMJ Festival and talk about the Matador Records/True Panther showcase.  For the unaware, True Panther Sounds is an imprint of Matador Records that focuses on bands that don’t fit into the Matador Records stable.  Which frankly, doesn’t make any sense, since Matador has been home to Liz Phair, Large Professor, Fucked Up, Pavement, the New Pornographers and Dead Meadow.  Their roster never made for a coherent label sound, which is part of what makes Matador such a great label.  I’m not clear on why, in a time when labels matter the least they ever have, anyone would start a NEW imprint, but Sub Pop has done it too (Hardly Art), so I guess it’s all the rage to start pointless imprints.  Coming soon: AVERSE’s sister blog imprint, AVCRSE (“A Veritable Consumption of Records, Succinctly Examined”) where we will do exactly what we do here, except different?

Necessity aside, True Panther has found it’s first hit record in the way of Girls’ Album, a solid pop-gem that you’d believe was the biggest record of the year by the amount of Girls pins adorning every tote bag in the Suffolk, but then I realized they were being given out for free in the back.  Kudos for giving out the larger, New Kids on the Block size pins and not the little badges.  They cut no marketing corners at True Panther!

Oh except, Girls wasn’t playing.  And Fucked Up wasn’t playing either.  Hell, even Matador classic bands like Yo La Tengo and New Pornographers didn’t squeeze themselves on the bill for this showcase.  Kurt Vile, Times New Viking, Misson of Burma, Julian “singer from Interpol” Plenti and Sonic Youth all released albums on Matador this year but were all unavailable I guess? The only Matador bands playing were Cold Cave, whose record is released today (November 3) and  new signee (and apocalypse of label doom) Ted Leo.  Thus, we were “treated” to Matador/True Panther 2010 and free PBR which they stingily stopped giving out at 8:55 instead of the promised 9:00.

First up was Tanlines, who were described as calypso/reggae, but really fall more in line with the current set of Swedish pop that has been dominating my stereo for the last two years.  They sound like a more danceable version of jj or a more linear version of Studio.  I was pretty impressed: the two members of the band got the crowd dancing pretty early in the night.  The “band” only consisted of two guys and one of them seemed to do some kind of airplane dance pretty often (think arms outstretched like a plane and tilt/spin, repeat).  Which means a lot of the music was pre-recorded.  I wouldn’t mind so much if both of the band members looked busy but if one guy is doing the airplane dance, that means only two hands are on deck to handle some pretty layered compositions.  They had live drums set up but they were only used sometimes and often were used to compliment far superior pre-recorded percussion.  Overall, I thought the songs sounded tight and I look forward to their debut full length due out next year.  Also, make sure you type in Tanlines AND music if you are going to google them in the office. Just sayin’.

Tanlines’ “Bejan”:

Next up on the bill was Lemonade.  What a doozy.  I hate ragging on young bands for being young: it feels mean and reeks of ageism.  But sometimes young bands try to play music they just shouldn’t be tackling just yet.  And sometimes they get signed to pretty prominent indie labels.  And then I have to listen to them.  Which occasionally works, if you’re Vampire Weekend.  But other times, not so much.  So, you opened yourselves up to this, Lemonade and I’m sorry.

Where do I begin? I guess the best way of describing why Lemonade is terrible is to briefly remember 2003.  Man, was 2003 fun or what? So many dance parties! DFA! The Rapture! And Radio 4? Exactly.  Except, you didn’t realize that Radio 4 wasn’t SO bad because you hadn’t heard the Bravery yet.  You see, The Rapture and Radio 4 were older guys who grew up listening to Gang of Four, adding their own post-modern spin on the tried and true post-punk formula.  But then all of a sudden all the new post-punk bands were basically raised on the Rapture and this became a problem.  Jagged razor guitar! Loud bass lines! 4/4 disco beats! Oh no! The problem here is best illustrated by watching a trailer for a Michael Keaton movie (flash forward to 1:40 for requisite quotation):

“Sometimes a copy of a copy isn’t quite as sharp as the original”- Doug from Multiplicity

Lemonade: we know you’ve heard Animal Collective and we love them too. But I’m pretty sure if you teamed up with the Dodos (who represent the acoustic side of Animal Collective) you guys could start a fun collective of your own- Merriweather Post Productions: specializing in generic boring pastiche music that drives me crazy.  The singer even wears awful clothes (a Ralph Lauren pocket tee? Come on, bro!) and does the same dance Avey Tare does.  To summarize: I didn’t really like Lemonade.

Cold Cave, which for the punk/hardcore affiliated, features Wes from American Nightmare.  Wes was known primarily for being angry and for having one arm.  I’m not sure which came first, and I would ask him but I probably won’t because he seems scary and it would be embarrassing for me to be beaten up by a one armed man that isn’t chasing/running from Richard Kimble.  I kind of wish Wes had a sense of humour and had lots of Fugitive references sprinkled through-out his music.  He does not, from what I can tell, have a sense of humour.  Cold Cave’s debut record, Love Comes Close is pretty damn good though (but really serious).  Simple, effective, layered synth rock that touches upon (ahem, apes from) New Order and Joy Division.  I usually don’t go for this kind of thing, which might explain why I like Love Comes Close. If  I had not heard the record, their live show probably would have pissed me off.  They were boring.  Really really boring.  The audience was much drunker for Cold Cave than they had been for Tanlines, who inspired jubilant dancing.  Cold Cave just seemed to bother everyone .  I’m not sure when bands will get the memo that if you don’t have a live drummer/full band and are going to stand in front of keyboards and sing, you’d best have a visual element to make your band more enticing.  Until that time, bands like Cold Cave and Tanlines are going to be relegated to headphone status.  Oh also, the only bad song on the Cold Cave record is the first song, which they also play first live.  I’m pretty sure they just want to get it out of the way.  You’ve been warned!

Cold Cave’s video for “Love Comes Close”:

Finally, at around midnight, Ted Leo and his Pharmacists (now with Joe Lally James Canty from Fugazi on second guitar!) took the stage and gave the Suffolk a welcome jolt.  They opened with Shake the Sheets track, “Heart Problems” which was appropriate given the healthcare debate that has been dominating the headlines, conversations and minds of many.  Ted Leo being a prescient being (or at least, smarter than the average punk), wrote the tune in 2002-03 and followed it with another song from that era, “The One Who Got Us Out” and Tyranny of Distance stand-out, “Parallel or Together.”  And then they unleashed the pop-mod fury of the Pharmacists’ signature song, “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?”  It had been a long time since I’d watched people flock to the front of the floor to dance and sing, but “Rude Boys” had the place going completely ape.

Which is when things took sort of a weird turn: they riled the audience up only to follow it up with a new song.  No big deal.  Except then they played a second new one.  And a third. And a fourth. And a fifth. And a sixth.  And a seventh.  In a row.  At some point, Ted cheekily asked if the audience was feeling the new songs.  The diehards shouted “yeah!” but the rest of us were feeling confused.  Now, it’s totally understandable that Ted would want to play a few new songs: it’s been a few years since his poorly received Living with the Living was dutifully ignored by the masses.  Truth be told, the new songs sounded pretty awesome, especially the particularly hardcore song that had lots of stop/start drum stick count offs.  Only one of them, titled “A New Way” sounded like the clunky pop rock that dominated his last LP.  But it didn’t matter since the energy had been diminished greatly.  That is, until they busted out an excellent version of their melancholy punk call to arms, “Me and Mia” followed by their classic cover of “Suspect Device” and a reeling version of the Misfits’ “Hybrid Moments” that had this blogger jumping on fellow AVERSE writer, Paul’s back to sing in the microphone.  A great way to end a shaky but enjoyable set.  It did remind me of why I love Ted Leo in the first place, as he has been dominating my headphones ever since.

Enjoy this well recorded version of Ted Leo playing “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?” at the First Unitarian Church in Philadelphia:

- Thom Siblo

This is how we do.

Birthday weekend, full steam ahead! And you know what that means. The highlights on the agenda for my weekend include copious amounts of Jack Daniels, giggles, and not posting on my blog even more.

However, it’s not as if I haven’t been busy or exercising my writerly muscles. I’ve been working out at another location, so to speak. In case you miss me and my musical rants, I can also be found here as part of the Portland Examiner Arts and Entertainment team. The gig allows its writers a lot of freedom, at least as far as content and voice. Hopefully, this avenue of exposure will continue to be a fun and personal way to report on all the fantastic artists in and around Portland.

But as far as TS&tN’s humble page-front, as an early birthday present to myself, I’m borrowing from a Facebook note concept. The object of the FB challenge is to list, off the top of your head, fifty musicians you’ve seen live. I got to some number in the 20 to 30 range before I had to start consulting my ephemera collection of ticket stubs, journal entries, posters, emails, and other websites to jog my memory. But it’s a fun activity. You get to recall specific points in your life, places you’ve visited, people you’ve seen, and of course, all the songs that kept you afloat each time. In honor of my 29th year of life on this planet, here are 29 performers I’ve seen live and the venues that granted me the opportunities. I can only aspire to triple this number or more in another 29 years’ time. By the way, if any generous reader wishes to send me a gift, my friends got me started on the tradition of birthday Jack D. Just a thought.

1) They Might Be Giants at venues in Honolulu, Santa Cruz, and San Francisco. I still love John and John like they’re both the only bees in my bonnet.

2) Reel Big Fish at the Bellows Air Force Station (if you live in Hawaii long enough, you will watch concerts on military grounds).

3) Hepcat in Santa Cruz. First concert of college. I can’t even remember the name of the venue, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t exist anymore.

4) Big Bad Voodoo Daddy at the Catalyst Nightclub. I interviewed one of the horn players for my college newspaper. Sadly, I can’t remember his name either. You’ll notice that a lot for anything during the time I was in college.

5) Moxy Fruvous in Santa Cruz. First concert I attended alone and really enjoyed.

6) Switchblade Symphony at the old goth club in Honolulu. I found out today that one of the band’s drummers went on to join the Blue Man Group.

7) Death Cab for Cutie at the Great American Music Hall.

8 ) Cat Power at Bottom of the Hill.

9) Frank Black, first at the Catalyst and then at the Independent.

10) Stratford 4 at the Independent. They were opening for another band, some group that rode the wave of “The Insert a Noun Here” bands during the early aughts, but Punchy and I went for Stratford 4. Burned out way ahead of their time.

11) Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at the Great American Music Hall.

12) Clinic at Bimbo’s 365 Club.

14) Low Flying Owls at the Hemlock Tavern.

15) Built to Spill at Slim’s. Found out that Built to Spill was playing there mere hours before the show. A very kind bouncer sold us tickets. The band was amazing.

16) Decemberists at the Fillmore.

17) Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Warfield.

18) Spoon, in a free performance at Amoeba Records.

19) Digital Underground at Red Devil Lounge, complete with Humpty. For real.

20) Von Iva at the Rickshaw Stop.

21) The Botticellis at Cafe Du Nord.

22) Pixies at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley. The best big concert I’ve ever seen. My flask helped.

23) Ziggy Marley at the Crystal Ballroom. This was my first concert in Portland.

24) Tori Amos at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall. I’d wanted to see her for so long, and to have finally done so at such a handsome place was extra special.

25) The Swell Season at the Keller Auditorium. Absolutely searing in its beauty, but that was largely thanks to the band.

26) Queens of the Stone Age at the Roseland.

27) Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings at the Oregon Zoo. Don’t let anyone snub you into believing that zoo concerts can’t be awesome.

28) 31 Knots at the Doug Fir.

29) Battles at the Wonder Ballroom, my inaugural foray into Music Fest NW.

Plus, one for good luck: 30) Asylum Street Spankers at Music Millennium.

• Andrew Bird ~ Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs ~ Righteous Babe

The Happy Birthday Song

• Les Claypool ~ Of Fungi and Foe ~ Prawn Song

Primed By 29

Rock alternativo de San Franscisco, valeu cada minuto escutado.

Faixas do álbum:

1. Skeleton Suit

2. Balcony

3. ‘Cause You Can

4. Alabama

5. Bar in the Back of the Basement

6. No Midnight

7. Sparrow

8. Of Mice

9. What’s with Your Brain?

10. All the Holes in the Walls

11. Ice Age

12. Ball of Yarn

13. Spaceman

LINK – No Midnight

Parece com? Delta Spirit, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists.

Apresentação com a música ‘Cause You Can.

Enjoy o/

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 like 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 primarily 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 an online resource as influential as Pitchfork to get the message out. You’ve got a guaranteed spot on my blogroll. My apologies if someone’s already doing this and I don’t know about it.

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 a bit of an LGBTQ 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 were pop artists who worked extensively with predominantly male producers. I don’t want to suggest that cutting a track with Timbaland 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.

Earlier this evening, there was a lot of speculation about whether or not Ted Leo and the Pharmacists were going to be able to play their free show tonight at Pier 54, since he said on their website and Twitter that they would do their best as always to persevere and play the show come rain or high water.

Apparently they played!

Ted Leo @ Pier 54 (from Twitpic)

Not so timorous, Ted. Way to give the people what they want. So in honor of his valorous move, here’s a really strange (but secretly hilarious) video of the great jam “Timorous Me.” I’m not sure who this director dude is, but this video is bonkers.

Ted Leo + Pharmacists – Timorous Me:

-Drew

Okay, we all know about Rock Band.  In fact, unless you’re living under a rock (or North Korea), I think it would be fairly difficult to find anyone who doesn’t.  But that’s not the point I’m trying to make…kinda.  The makers of Rock Band and Guitar Hero seem to be vexed on putting a crap load of metal into their games.  While that’s not bad, it makes the hardest tiers unbearable for people (like me) who dislike metal.

Because of this, I created my own list of songs that should be in Rock Band.  From Indie Pop to Hard Rock, this list has it all–well not really.  It’s actually quite limited.  The list features bands like Collective Soul, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Third Eye Blind, and Band of Horses. As always, lemme know what you think should be added to the list!

Check it out after the jump!

Artist – Title of Song – Album

As Fast As – Florida Sunshine – Open Letter To the Damned
Band of Horses - Is there a Ghost? – Cease to Begin
Band of Horses – Islands on the Coast – Cease to Begin
Barenaked Ladies – One Week – Stunt
Barenaked Ladies – It’s All Been Done – Stunt
Ben Kweller – This Is War – Ben Kweller
Ben Kweller – The Rules – On My Way
Blind Melon – No Rain – Blind Melon
Collective Soul - Where the River Flows – Collective Soul
Collective Soul – December – 7even Year Itch
Counting Crows – 1492 – Saturday Nights, Sunday Mornings
Counting Crows – Cowboys – Saturday Nights, Sunday Mornings
The Cranberries – Zombie – No Need To Argue
Dave Matthews Band – Funny The Way It Is – Big Whiskey & The GrooGrux King
Dave Matthews Band – What Would You Say - Under the Table and Dreaming
Dr. Dog – The Ark – Fate
Foo Fighters – Learn to Fly – Learn to Fly
Foo Fighters - All My Life – One By One
Foo Fighters – Times Like These – One By One
Gin Blossoms – Til I Hear it From You – Empire Records OST
Guster – Amdsterdam – Keep it Together
Guster – Barrel of a Gun – Lost and Gone Forever
Harvey Danger – Flagpole Sitta – Where Have All The Merrymakers Gone?
John Butler Trio – Funky Tonight – Grand National
John Butler Trio – Fire in the Sky - Grand National
Kings of Leon – Sex on Fire – Only By the Night
Marching Band – For Your Love – Spark Large
Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s – Quiet As a Mouse – The Dust of Retreat
Modest Mouse - Dashboard - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank
Monty Are I – In This Legacy - Wall of People
Our Lady Peace – Supersatellite – Naveed
Radiohead - Just – The Bends
Radiohead – Paranoid Android – OK Computer
REM - It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) – Eponymous
REM - What’s the Frequency, Kenneth – Monster
Rilo Kiley - Portions for Foxes – More Adventurous
Rogue Wave – Lake Michigan – Asleep at Heaven’s Gate
Sam Roberts – Love at the End of the World – Love at the End of the World
The Silent Years - No Secrets – The Silent Years
Spin Doctors – Two Princes – Pocket Full of Kryptonite
Sugarcult – Memory – Palm Trees and Power Lines
Stereophonics – Devil – Language, Sex, Violence, Other
Still Water – Fever Dog – Almost Famous OST
Ted Leo and the Pharmacists - Me and Mia – Shake the Sheets
Third Eye Blind – Graduate – Third Eye Blind
Third Eye Blind – Blinded – Out of the Vein
Third Eye Blind – Semi-Charmed Life – Third Eye Blind
Vampire Weekend - A-Punk - Vampire Weekend
The Wombats - Let’s Dance to Joy Division - A Guide to Love, Loss, and Desparation

The free Matt+ Kim concert on Thursday night at Pier 54 did three things for me. It showed me that Matt + Kim is more one-dimensional than I figured, which is too bad, because I was a fan for a while. It showed me that Flosstradamus isn’t a bad dance party also. I like to think they’re the poor man’s version of Girl Talk, but even that might be a stretch. I still had a good time though. Finally, I also learned about yet another great free show coming up—Ted Leo and the Pharmacists on July 23rd at the same venue.

–Jett Wells, Editor-in-Chief

People really like Ted Leo.  He’s a great songwriter, his music is very palatable, it’s got a great political message, it’s fun.  I’ve never been that huge of a fan, but I like and respect him.  This combination with Titus makes it an excellent show to attend, even if you’re loathe to cross the river to Hoboken.  You never go wrong with Ted Leo, and Titus Andronicus is quickly becoming one of my favorite bands.  Listen to the track below.  It’s brilliant.  Patrick’s slurred screams are some of the most compelling vocals on the scene.  The song is a ton of fun and lyrically astonishing in its honest simplicity.  ”There’ll be no more cigarettes/ No more having sex/ No more drinking until you fall on the floor/ No more indie rock/ Just a ticking clock/ You have no time for that anymore.”  Sarcastic, simple, brilliant.  Enough waxing on about the virtues of Titus.  Download this song and go to the show.

MP3: “Titus Andronicus” – Titus Andronicus

Travels with Myself and Another by Future of the Left really wants to rock hard, but lacks any new age flavor.

If I had to think of an album and band this soundslike , it’s Against Me! and their album New Wave. The album by Against Me! had a kick ass single in “Thrash Unreal,” but the rest of the album didn’t work. As for Travels with Myself and Another, which releases on June 23rd, it has a bunch of songs that song pretty good at first with bad-ass guitar riffs and drum solos, but they dissolve quick once lead singer Andy Falkous starts yelling.

Falkous sounds a lot like the singer from Against Me!, which is why I draw the comparison. It’s also worth mentioning Against Me! toured with Future of Left in 2008 with Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. Falkous has the voice of an awkward drill sergeant, which makes most of the songs sound like marching songs.

This is the first time I ever heard of Future of the Left, even though they got started in 2005. For their second album, Travels with Myself and Another isn’t a bad effort at all, in fact, I’m intrigued what else they can do with their tricky melodies they use in this album. Like I said, songs like “Throwing Bricks at Trains” and “Land of My Formers” have great potential for 30 seconds, but don’t have enough momentum to make the songs work.

Their sound is a little old-school being alternative punk-rock, but it still has the energy guts to become something a little more.

–Jett Wells, Reviews Editor

This is not dead.  I promise.  Just been incredibly busy.  BUT, because I’ve been horrible at updating, I’ll give you guys my perfect (and incredibly pretentiously large)  summer playlist.  The songs aren’t in any real order, but I hope you enjoy.  Objections?  Suggestions?  Let me know!

Artist – Song – CD

1.  Dr. Dog - The Breeze – Fate

2.  Spin Doctors – Two Princes – Pocket Full of Kryptonite

3.  The Frames - Your Face (Medley) – Set List

4.  Addison Groove Project – Turning Points – Allophone

5.  Mute Math - Typical – Mute Math

6.  Zox – Ghostown – Take Me Home

7.  Rusted Root – Send Me On My Way – When I Woke

8.  Someday Providence – Summertime in Rhode Island – The Hidden Vibe

9.  As Fast As – Florida Sunshine – Open Letter to the Damned

10.  Rilo Kiley – Portions for Foxes – More Adventurous

11.  Third Eye Blind – Semi-Charmed Life – Third Eye Blind

12.  Calexico - Quattro (World Drifts In) – Feast of Wire

13.  State Radio - Rushian – Us Against the Crown

14.  MGMT - Kids – Oracular Spectacular

15.  Rogue Wave – Lake Michigan – Asleep at Heaven’s Gate

16.  The Wombats – Let’s Dance to Joy Division – A Guide To Love, Loss and Depression

17.  Battles - Atlas - Mirrored

18.  Liquid Soul – Footprints – Liquid Soul

19.  Sigur Ros - Gobbledigook -Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust

20.  Wild Light – California on my Mind – Adult Nights

21.  Loney, Dear – Ignorant Boy, Beautiful Girl – Citadel Band

22.  Bela Fleck and the Flecktones – Big Country – Live at the Quick (also found on Left of Cool)

23.  Ted Leo and the Pharmacists - Me and Mia – Shake the Sheets

24.  Cloud Cult - Lucky Today -Advice From the Happy Hippopotamus

25.  Jimmy Eat World – Sweetness – Bleed American

26.  Santigold – L.E.S. Artistes – Santigold

27.  Band of Horses – Islands on the Coast – Cease to Begin

28.  The Cat Empire – Hello – The Cat Empire

29.  Dispatch - Flyin’ Horses – Silent Steeples

30.  Guster – Barrel of a Gun – Lost and Gone Forever

31.  Thao With the Get Down Stay Down - Bag of Hammers – We Brave Bee Stings and All

32.  Vampire Weekend – A-Punk – Vampire Weekend

33.  Ben Folds – Rockin’ the Suburbs – Rockin’ the Suburbs

34.  M.I.A. – Paper Planes – Kala

35.  Jaco Pastorius - Soul Intro / The Chicken – The Birthday Concert

36.  The Shins – New Slang – Oh, Inverted World

37.  John Butler - Ocean – One Small Step

38.  Noah and the Whale – 5 Years Time – Peaceful The World Lays Me Down

39.  Triangle Forest - SHUT UP, GET DOWN – Hostile Takeover

40.  Ben Lee - Into the Dark – Awake is The New Sleep

41.  State Bird - I Saw the Light – Most Ghostly

42.  Black Kids – I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You – Partie Traumatic

43.  Average White Band – Pick Up The Pieces – Swingers

44.  Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s – As Tall as Cliffs – Animal! (and Not Animal!)

45.  Josh Pyke – Memories and Dust – Memories and Dust

Happy Good Friday, everybody! I promise to be back on Monday with some great new stuff, however this week has kept me super-busy with job searching and getting ready for the next Matt Fried Hour with Chris O’Neil. In the meantime, here’s a clip of Ted Leo covering “Since U Been Gone”. If you don’t know the work of Ted Leo and The Pharmacists, dude – you’re missing out. Happy Holidays everybody! See you on Monday.

Three blips on your radar:

The geniuses at Overthinking It kindly put up my rather dense screed on Cartesian dualism in Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl”. Read it and be enlightened!

You can expect more from me there in the future – hopefully some of it a bit lighter.

# # #

Happy birthday, Charles Darwin!

# # #

After complaining about how awesome Ted Leo and the Pharmacists sounded, and why oh why did you have to addict me to another indie darling, RJ burned me all of his EPs. I’ve been listening to them on every commute for the past couple of weeks. Right now I’m torn between Hearts of Oak and Shake the Sheets as my favorite album¹.

Ted Leo might have come out of a lab. His lyrics are literate but scan perfectly (who else could make “ossify,” “historicity” and “apostasy” work like he does in “Bridges, Squares”?). The themes he hits are subversive without being preachy (consider “Criminal Piece” or “The One Who Got Us Out”). And he rocks with that perfect American flavor of Clash-style punk. If Elvis Costello grew up in Arlington, VA he’d front a band called the Pharmacists.

In fact, Ted Leo might be too clever for me. It was just this morning that I finally realized how subversive “Me and Mia” is. Oh, I get it. “Me and Mia, Ann and Ana.” Right².

____________
¹ Although, isn’t the album dying out as a musical format? The weakness of an album has always been the varying quality of its songs. For every “Back in the U.S.S.R.” there’s a “Wild Honey Pie”; for every “U Can’t Touch This,” a “Let’s Go Deeper.” Since iTunes, Napster and Rhapsody – currently the market drivers – all let you buy songs piecemeal, why waste your money on filler tracks?

² To be fair, you did warn me.

In case you weren’t already aware, my choice of title for the music-related posts (Biomusicology) is the title of one of my most favourite songs ever.  And even still, I haven’t heard it in ages because when I first got my MacBook last February (nearly a year ago, I can’t believe it), I foolishly deleted a bunch of music and regrettably haven’t  replaced it.  This thought only entered my brain when I was looking through what I was listening to four years ago on my last.fm page (the Aberdeen network doesn’t let me upload to it anymore and I’m trying to get someone to fix it).  Ted Leo and the Pharmacists falls under that category for now.  However, I thought that the song shouldn’t be passed over (my second favourite of theirs is Me and Mia).

I was trying to remember when and where I had seen them play in Toronto; it was in my fourth year at some point in 2005 or 2006.  I recall they played at the Mod Club but was scratching my brain as to who went with me.  J originally informed me they were playing but ducked out at the last minute because his girlfriend was coming up for a visit (awks), but then it dawned on me I went with SL which was fun but we never talked afterward.  It was the most strangely perfect show I’ve ever seen; they took no leaps away from the way their records sounded and it was safe, safe, safe all the way through.  While I applaud their ability to play and sing verbatim, some character and soul was missing.  However, this song has never failed to wow me.

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