Best Of 2009 — Michael Bond, again
Posted By Ben W. on December 20, 2009
If you didn’t get your fill of Michael Bond opinions yesterday with his list of 2009 albums, I have good news — he’s back today with a list of non-2009 music that he listened to in 2009.
If you did, in fact, get your fill of Michael Bond yesterday, ummm… well… too bad?
10 reissues, remasters, compilations, and just plain *old* albums that I listened to more than anything new this year
Willy and the Poor Boys — Creedence Clearwater Revival
CCR’s 40th anniversary remasters have been nothing less than a revelation to me. Their first five albums (recorded over just 3 years!) are incredible, full of replenished grit and swagger after two decades of crappy ’80s CD masterings. I had always written them off as redneck barbecue music, but these records reveal a rawness and urgency that even years of classic rock radio cant kill.
New Skin For The Old Ceremony — Leonard Cohen
I’ve been working myself through Leonard Cohen’s back catalog, getting obsessed with exactly one album at a time. This winter, it’s New Skin — sexy, jubilant, and deeply sad. I’d say they don’t make records like this anymore, but the truth is, they never did.
Downriver Revival — Numero Group
Numero became my new favorite label this year, and I have this record to thank for kick-starting my obsession. Numero’s incredible knack for uncovering forgotten scenes and studios is on full display here, as they unpack decades worth of a single Ecorse, Mich. studio’s attempts to be a downriver Motown. Country gospel and soul mix on the best cuts, but funky instrumentals and even a burst of garage-punk sound as though they fit — the true test of a well-built compilation. Even more impressive is that they’ve released nearly a dozen records of this stature during the year, and their back catalog reveals even more amazing discoveries, expertly telling the stories of the producers and artists that made these mini-scenes happen. I would never have named Wichita, Kansas or Columbus, Ohio as the sites of secret ’60s soul explosions, but Numero has proved me wrong, again and again.
The Beatles (The White Album) — The Beatles
The Beatles’ much-talked-about remasters excelled best at blowing the dust off of forgotten songs, and no album benefitted more from this treatment than their self-titled 1967 double album, which is just bursting with fantastic tracks that I’d nearly forgotten. Ringo’s “Don’t Pass Me By,” John’s “Sexy Sadie,” even Paul’s “I Will” sound fresh, their lazy lyrics outshone by ramshackle (yet pitch-perfect) production. Plus, the mono versions of their early records do the same for a number of fantastically loose early cuts (“Boys,” “Everybody’s Trying To Be My Baby”).
Lux & Ivy’s Favorites
What we have here is the ultimate music-geek labor of love, an 11-volume attempt to compile every song the Cramps ever mentioned as an influence, to try and recreate the infamous mixtapes Lux & Ivy made to recruit new band members. The result is amazing. There’s plenty of rockabilly, surf, and garage gems, but the majority of the tracks are just too weird, ridiculous, or downright filthy to have ever been revived or compiled elsewhere. It’s like getting unfettered access to the 78 collection of the weird old guy at the record shop — daunting, wonderful, and above all, revealing. Given this stack of mp3s, you could get the full force of the Cramps’ passion and goofy exuberance without actually hearing a single one of their songs.
Blossom Dearie — Blossom Dearie
I’d been a fan of Blossom Dearie’s versions of ”Thou Swell” and ”Deed I Do” for ages, but it took her death earlier this year for me to finally buy a copy of her self-titled Verve debut. It’s great — breezy and light, stuck between the ”Great American Songbook” of ’40s pop and the swing of ’50s bebop jazz, all filtered through a diminutive white girl at the piano. It’s hard to believe that this record came out at the same time Elvis was tearing up the country, as her equally disarming sexiness and charm comes from a completely different place — sly, demure, and winking. (”If you don’t like my peaches, baby, why do you shake my tree?”) I’d say it’s a very ’50s record, but by the time it came out it was already the last gasps of something rapidly disappearing, and sounds downright quaint next to hard jazz and rock ‘n roll of the same time. I’m OK with that.
Bizarre Ride II — The Pharcyde
OK, so maybe I’ve just been listening to “Passin’ Me By” over and over again. Nothin’ wrong with that. This slot was a close battle between this and KMD’s Mr. Hood, specifically ‘Peach Fuzz’. Forget lo-fi, I’m ready for the early-’90s stoner-rap revival to begin.
Shine On Brightly — Procol Harum
Procol Harum gets written off as a one-hit wonder (“Whiter Shade Of Pale”) far too often, and I’ve been battling that preconception with a copy of their great debut I’ve had for years now, but just recently got some of their other works from the same period. Shine On Brightly may be the best, its title track encompassing nearly everything good about classic rock — excess for the sake of the song, not the performers, and pushed to the limits of late-’60S studio magic. And sure, it ends with a meandering, almost Moody Blues-esque 17-minute proto-prog jam, but even that’s forgivable — just keep side A on repeat.
Sweetheart Of The Rodeo — The Byrds
I’ve slowly but surely come around to the late-’60s/early-’70s country-rock my girlfriend loves, and now talk wistfully of Flying Burrito Brothers’ genius. But it wasn’t ’til a few months ago that this album finally clicked for me. I still don’t care much for the Byrds (and their career built off of covering Dylan songs) but I’ll take this album as an accidental masterpiece. Not only do the Dylan covers actually surpass their originals, but the other cover choices are perfectly matched, and the Byrds end up owning them as well. It’s hard to underestimate Gram Parsons’ influence on the rest of the band during the recording of this album — not just the songs he wrote and recorded for them, but for steering the band towards country music at a time when the genre was considered a joke by most rock-n-rollers. But all of this would be moot if the record didn’t work so incredibly well — the instrumentation is relaxed and laid-back without feeling lazy, and the vocals twang without veering into parody. No small feat for a bunch of California hippies.
Keep It Like A Secret — Built To Spill
I stood at the back of Pitchfork Festival’s fence, watching and waiting for them to strum the last note so I could run up the street to play an afterparty. Something switched in my brain, and ever since I’ve wanted to hear “Carry The Zero” every 10 minutes.
– Michael Bond
Michael and previous almostfourstars expert Matt Dennewitz are Coltrane Motion. Together, they released an outstanding Double-A side single of their own this year. “Maya Blue” absolutely is one of my favorite songs of the year. Check it out HERE.
You can find more rantings and ravings from the mind of Michael Bond HERE – a list of his favorite 10 albums of 2009.
Our other expert picks:
Related posts:
Comments
Leave a Reply