5. Fucked Up - ‘David Comes To Life’

We settle in but it’s time to go,

Taken to sea by the undertow.

Love the smell but I hate the taste.

Feeling good is such a waste.

I can’t remember where I heard it or where I read it (or maybe I just came up with it because I’m just that clever), but my favourite assessment of Fucked Up is that they are the only hardcore band in existence that can pull off writing a five-minute song, let alone a song that barely transcends a minute.

But that is the staple for this band. Their attention to detail is profound, and always pays off. It is, in essence, what separates them from the traditional perception of hardcore punk music. Their songs are thick with layers, offering something new with each subsequent listen. 

Fucked Up’s longevity will ultimately be decided by their willingness to compulsively recreate this process with each record. Fortunately, David Comes To Life offers few signs of fleeting ambition. While the previous record, The Chemistry Of Common Life, imprinted Fucked Up as an elaborate and artistic punk act, David Comes To Life proclaims a revolutionary attack on genre, addressing the abrasiveness of hardcore with metafiction. 

Let me explain: 

David Comes To Life is a concept album, a writing practise I tend to reserve for progressive bands that want document drug trips (I’m looking at you Oscar Rodriguez-Lopez) or for the down-home folk types that want to profess the depth of blue collar America (is that too specific of a reference? Who cares, Nebraska is incredible). I find punk efforts to be vain and redundant because the subversive implications of the genre scream “ANARCHY! YOUTH! YOUTHFUL ANARCHY! (love!) ANARCHIST LOVE! (thats what American Idiot was about, right?). Ironically, the predictability of punk concept albums diminishes the subversiveness. Titus Andronichus re-envigored this sentiment with The Monitor, appropriating civil war imagery with elements of ragtime into a punk rock landscape. Similarly, Fucked Up dove into the monotonous world of modernist small-town UK to construct a vast, rich meta-narrative about love, God, faith, and destiny. 

But to be frank (and totally humourless), it is way more fucked up than that.  

As much as I’d love to relay my interpretation of the narrative (just kidding. that would take FOR-EV-AH. Wikipedia has a wonderful little plot synopsis. Or you could just read the lyrics), I’m more interested in the marriage that is made between the lyrics and the music. Pink Eyes’ writing is in top forum throughout the record, but the supporting accompaniment mixed with his trademark growl carry meaning on their own.

Take “Queen Of Hearts” for example. Pink Eyes proclaims, from his soap box of walled distortion and crash hits:

“Hello, my name is David.

You are Veronica.

Let’s be together.

Let’s fall in love”

This is one of the rare time’s where the image of a large, sweaty (probably even bleeding), half-naked, punk emphatically spitting deep-throated exclamations will warm my heart. This tendency is prominent throughout the record, as it’s clear that Fucked Up take a certain pride in conveying this narrative as a fluent musical. The musical tone, especially in definitive tracks like “Under My Nose” and “One More Night”, plays as vital a role as the actual words. This expectation of the listener justifies the long play time. 

As ridiculous as this sounds, but David Comes To Life is a great album because it demands the attention of the listener. For the casual listener, it’s way too long. Sure, on a song by song basis, the songs stand on their own, but rarely does an album improve so drastically when you are required to pay attention. It’s like listening to a really crazy, post-modern, short story on tape. With a punk rock soundtrack.

Yeah. Like that.

Listen to: “Queen of Hearts” 

“The Other Shoe” - Fucked Up (From David Comes To Life)

6. Male Bonding - ‘Endless Now’

I don’t care if everyone is high

You’re all replacements in my mind

When people break up, there are standard modes of coping, especially when it comes to music. It seems like most people like to listen to the saddest music possible. You know, the slow emotional numbers that really pull at the heart-strings. The songs that feel as though they’re self-aware, accepting their role in the world as ‘songs people listen to when they break up’. It’s as though these songs, which are usually subject to criticism, sit around and wait for you. They take your abuse entirely because they know that in the end, you’ll turn to them, and thats ok. 

It’s like when you’re in high school and you parents enquire about your life, to which you respond with obvious angst (please, tell me that wasn’t just me). But when something goes wrong and you need to vent, parents listen to you and comfort you.

IN SHORT: BREAK UP SONGS ARE LIKE YOUR PARENTS

Of course, I need to be different than everyone else, if not out of spite. Instead, I listen to music that will get me over people. In other words, I’ll listen to something that makes me think of anything other than the monumental heartbreak I’m trudging through. And it usually works, too! Typically, I’ll fall upon Against Me!’s … As The Eternal Cowboy, but I felt like I needed reinforcements after the most recent breakup, so I rummaged through my newest purchases only to settle upon Male Bonding’s Endless Now.

While visiting Joe, we found a quaint little record store off of Whyte Avenue in Edmonton. I saw this record, remembered all of the praise I had read about them, and asked the cashier if I could listen to it. Pretty standard record buying story.

What made this experience interesting was the fact that it took me literally 3 seconds (I timed it) of listening to “Tame The Sun” to decide that I was going to love this band. The rip of the opening bassline into the double snare shot is the enough to hook me in for the entire album. 

What is interesting about Endless Now was how straight to the point the entire record is. It’s retains a standard punk ethos, without being a throwback album. However, it keeps a modern flair without being too gimmicky. It is quite literally everything you’d expect from a three-piece punk rock group. Quick, crisp, and energized. Pair that with a distinctly Jesus and Mary Chain vocal styling and youhave Male Bonding. The vocal drone gives for a more “mature” presentation (a bit of an oxymoron, I know), that makes this Endless Nowmore immediately digestable. 

Now, there isn’t much else to say about this record.

Songs like “What’s That Scene?”, “Mysteries Complete”, and “Dig You Out” are personal favourites, but I think the real selling point for this record was the timing in which I discovered it. Very much at a crossroadsish interval in my life, I needed something new that was separate from everything that I had come to accumulate over the previous months (years). 

But like, it’s a sweet record. 
Seriously.

Listen to: “What’s That Scene” 

“Tame The Sun” - Male Bonding (From Endless Now)

7. Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks - ‘Mirror Traffic’

Someone’s giving french kiss lessons.

How else will we learn to love?

I was never really into Stephen Malkmus’s solo endeavours. I thought “Baby C’mon” off of Real Emotional Trash was an incredible song, but other than that my listening experience was as such:

Step 1: Listen to Pavement

Step 2: Think to myself “man, I should really get into Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks. I mean, I’m in a Pavement mood, so how much different could it be? It’ll be like I’m listening to NEW PAVEMENT” 

Step 3: Put on a Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks record (typically Real Emotional Trash, for the reason listed above)

Step 4: Become bored/long for Pavement

Step 5: Put on Brighten The Corners.

I’m pretty sure this is the experience most people have listening to Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks. It’s not a shot at Stephen Malkmus as a musician. He just happened to be in a band previously that kicked more ass than most bands. And really, how many artists have undergone the same issues, despite the quality of their solo material? Paul McCartney’s Memory Almost Full, for example, will never out do his work with The Beatles. Joe Strummer suffered that same fate (and we all know how much I love Streetcore) as did Morrissey. Sure, comparing Pavement to the The Beatles is a bit of a stretch, but we mustn’t downplay the importance of Pavement to the college-rock aesthetic (however, I do feel as though The Smiths/Pavement comparison, in terms of importance throughout their respective decades, is pretty spot on. Although, suggesting that Stephen Malkmus is as dreamy as Morrissey is blasphemous). I obviously can’t comment on how important they were to me while they were putting out music, but retrospectively, their reunion was a huge deal. 

But I digress (surprise). That isn’t to say I’m disinterested in new Jicks material. It’s more like I get excited about having a new Stephen Malkmus record to listen to half way before switching over to the unpolished grime of Wowee Zowee. 

But Mirror Traffic was a bit of a different story. It sustained intrigue throughout the entire record, constantly surprising me with great song after great song. Initially, I couldn’t figure out why, unlike the other Jicks records, this record didn’t inspire me to retreat to Malkmus’ former band. 

After repeated listens and the intake of a live performance at The Biltmore Cabaret (incredible show), I realized that Mirror Traffic was the first time Stephen Malkmus decided to make music that didn’t feel like unused Pavement material. He had finally managed to make the distinction between his newer material and his past work. 

And while it’s still apparent that it is the same man, just writing songs for another band, the difference between the two is noticeable.

For starters, it’s obvious that the production value is up and the performance on the record is much cleaner than others. While the raunch was part of the appeal of Pavement (note: “Stereo”), the neater approach really places the weight on Malkmus’ abilities as a songwriter and a performer. “Stick Figures In Love” is a perfect example of this, with the reverberated vocals and the crisp guitar riff. This song also demonstrates Malkmus’ rejection of banal songwriting practises, despite the upped production quality. The ending of each line jumbles the melody enough to retain personality and keep the song from falling into the abyss of monotonous indie-rock.

Many other songs on the record share sign Malkmus’ typically off-kilter songsmanship. The opening track, “Tigers” poses as a content, smooth mid-tempo declaration of return, again showing Malkmus as his most universal… that is until the last twenty seconds or so where he becomes unhinged and silly, ending the track with an intentional wrench in the spokes of accessibility. “Spazz” employs a similar approach, with it’s quick, gutsy verses, and half-time choruses with ridiculous lyrics. Malkmus’ quintessential coyness feels oddly heroic and triumphant, and was enough to garner a smirk and a chuckle as I listened to it for the first time. 

On the note of personality and change, Mirror Traffic  was really important for Malkmus in terms of identity. While the record doesn’t contain a complete re-imagination of the self, or a born again/found/existential/displacement complex, it is certainly a product of growth: from young and apathetic to… old and apathetic. Throughout the record, Malkmus abandons the goofiness that some of the best Pavement songs were known for, a sentiment that he paired with irony and cynicism. Though he still sings most of Mirror Traffic with one one eyebrow raised, he is more precise with his jadedness. Take “No One Is (As I Are Be)”. He proposes a retrospect on previous relationships, especially with his Pavement counterparts, discarding them with bitterness (“I heart the part when you play the concerned friend/when will it end?”). Other songs, like the bouncy (yet biting) “Forever 28”, dispel the myths of romance opting for Malkmus to paint himself as an aggravating realist.

While it’s true that this transformed, open, and personal Stephen Malkmus is not writing the same music he did back in the heyday of 90s college rock, there are traces of his former self on the record (see: “Spazz”). While these moments aren’t as predominant as they were on past records, there’s just enough to warrant the ear of a Pavement purists. 

For the rest of us, we’re givena rough declaration of independence and proclamation of Malkmus’ continued relevancy. 

Listen to: “No One Is (As I Are Be)”

“Senator” - Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks (From Mirror Traffic)

8. Slam Dunk - ‘The Shivers’

All I want is to ride my bike to the comedy bar

All I want is to dent that company car.

Slam Dunk’sThe Shivers is a strange one, to be honest. 

Comprised of members from the now defunct Immaculate Machine (a band I paid very little attention to while they were active), Slam Dunk came out of nowhere to self-release the best record from a BC artist in 2011. It’s brash and filthy as hell, and it’s clear that they are strictly prescribed to not-giving-a-fuck. And I think this attitude is what attracts me to The Shivers.

Everything about this record is done on their own terms. From the recording, to the release, to the packaging (the copy i purchased was an recycled copy of Dan Hill’s Best Of, spray-painted black with a gold stencil over top) Slam Dunk was entirely DIY with this release. And if there is one thing that will get me hot and bothered, it is DIY. 

My introduction to Slam Dunk can be accredited to whim. I didn’t know them prior to the show at Music Waste 2011, but my friend Jesse was adamant that they were an act I needed to see (considering that Jesse is one of two people who know my tastes perfectly, I figured I should probably go). So, after abandoning my priorities, I went and saw one of the best live bands I’ve seen in the past couple of years. Unfortunately, this list isn’t talking about the best live bands I’ve seen in 2011. Otherwise, Slam Dunk would be at the top. So the trick for Slam Dunk was to recreate their live energy on The Shivers, while proving that they could still write great songs, a tall task for even the most seasoned of bands. 

Well, unsurprisingly, the experience of listening to Slam Dunk live and on record is entirely different (unless you play the record at 45 rpm, then it’s essentially the same). But that’s not to say that it’s worse.

Let me explain:

Live, Slam Dunk plays a eccentric style of raucous basement-punk. Everything is fast, frantic, and loud. The chants of Duncan Macconnell and Jordan Minkoff become more percussive than lyrically motivated, with each vocalist looking progressively more insane as they become increasingly soaked in sweat (and really when your hair looks like this, you’ve already up the ante on looking crazy).

On record, there is far more going on. The Shivers is a controlled collection of the absurdity that ensues during their live sets, providing context that shows the Slam Dunk isn’t only pure energy. Take the mid-tempo “Bearcub”, for instance. Emulating the Pixies at their calmest, “Bearcub” shows Slam Dunk’s capacity for versatility. Inevitably, like a child that just couldn’t help his or herself, the band explodes into into an impulsive 35 second outro.

Now that I think of it, there is something distinctly child-like about The Shivers While I’ve addressed my affection for songs and artists that carry youthful nostalgia, there is something more malicious about Slam Dunk’s version of youth. Because it’s not drenched with nostalgia, The Shivers acts as a realistic representation of the anarchy of youth as it applies to adulthood. Opening numbers “Only Fun” and “Bleacher Lovin” convey this perfectly, expressing a deep desire to ride bikes instead of, well, doing anything else. Other tracks, like “Viva Slam Dunkus” and “Do The Slam Dunk” are intentionally self-aware, demonstrating that Slam Dunk refrains from taking themselves too seriously.  

To be totally honest, I am surprised I managed to write this much about The Shivers. I probably didn’t do an adequate job of justifying it as my number 8 of 2011, but unlike most records on this list, The Shivers is practically indescribably. It’s the kind of record that is hard to review because it plays as though it has already rejected any criticism or compliment charged its way. 

Because they’re so exciting, Slam Dunk isn’t the kind of band that needs positive reviews to survive. But really, I can’t imagine a bad word being said about them. 

Listen to: “Only Fun”

“Behold The Hurricane” - The Horrible Crowes (From Elsie)

9. The Horrible Crowes - ‘Elsie’

I heard my love was a season

that you wore for the pretty girls 

Elsie was a record I was really tentative about jumping into right away. 

It’s not that I was doubting Brian Fallon, but I had only recently gotten on board entirely with American Slang, the latest Gaslight Anthem record. It took me a while to fully appreciate it, but this past year, I found several instances where I was leaning on songs from that record more than any of their previous records. And that’s really saying a lot, considering I’m pretty sure 2008’s ‘59 Sound was the only record I listened to that year. 

But I have an issue with artists that feel it necessary to release a ton of new music, constantly. As a listener, it’s really hard to digest too much, too soon, especially if older material had yet to really sink in. I also feel that a band probably won’t put together their best material if it is immediately on the heals of a prior record/tour. The Hold Steady was guilty of that with Heaven is Whenever (four records in five years is a bit much), as were Nine Inch Nails and The Mars Volta (or more specifically Omar Rodriguez-Lopez) with, well, most of their respective discographies (1000 records each in 2 years. serious. I counted).  

Anyways, despite my efforts to wait until I was ready (because I felt that my relationship with Brian was moving just far too quickly), my friend Joe is a Brian Fallon purist. While he is very objective and unbiased, he tends to get excited for everything the man does (I mean, Joe has been listening to Brian Fallon since his This Charming Man demos. That’s dedication). So needless to say, when I went to visit him in September, I found myself with a burned copy of Elsie in my hands upon arrival. Knowing he wanted to talk about it, I had to give an intimate listen.

Too be honest, I was surprised by how quickly I liked it… or by how much more I love it with each consecutive listen.    

I was expecting another Gaslight Anthem record. But Elsie is far from that. With counterpart Ian Perkins in tow, Fallon holds less of the weight on his shoulders. Sure he is the voice and storyteller in The Horrible Crowes, but Perkins does an excellent job of differentiating this band from Gaslight Anthem. His instrumentation is sublime throughout the record. His arsenal is far broader than the Gaslight back-line, and consciously avoids the rigidness of anthemic guitar work, placing more emphasis on holistic composition. Take “Witnessed A Crime” as an example. It’s clear that Perkins’ orchestration takes the forefront with the layering of slide guitars, mobile bass, and quaint but effective organ-line. Other songs, like “Sugar” and “I Believe Jesus Brought Us Together”, depend on subtlety, and Perkins answers the call with a mature minimalist approach. Here he creates an ethereal atmosphere, far more delicate than hard-hitting frankness of Gaslight Anthem. However, Perkins also demonstrates versatility on the record. With songs like “Go Tell Everybody” and “Mary Ann” Perkins shows that he is able to perfectly construct a savage, unhinged rock song, paving the way for some of Fallon’s most unrestrained vocal work to date. 

Speaking of Fallon, he has unmistakable chemistry with Perkins (mainly because Perkins enables him to be a Springsteeny as possible). His approach to Elsie is also different than his previous records. For example, he liberally unholsters his wail at several moments throughout the record, but just as frequently brings himself to an intimate mumble. “Lady Killer”, my personal favourite from Elsie, is a perfect hybrid of the two. It also provides to be the gleaming example of Fallon’s lyrical theme throughout Elsie: victimization and love lost. Gone are his self-villifying narratives or nostalgic opuses that yearn for a time that he wasn’t even alive in and in their place is an exhausted rock hero in-waiting, battered by (seemingly frequent) romantic failure. In “Lady Killer”, Fallon exclaims defeat:

And you must of met a man,

tall and handsome at that.

Who must’ve put a spell on you baby.

Must’ve kept on coming back

Hell, even in songs like “Crush” where he is basking in potential romance, he sings like he’s already lost (“sometimes I’m up, lord, sometimes I’m down/ God’s gonna trouble the water”).

Fallon is far more vulnerable on Elsie than he is on any of his previous work, opting for a summary of present heartbreak rather than pining for his youth. In some ways, this is a more personal Brian Fallon. instead of building a mythology of him and his Gaslight Anthem counterparts, he keeps his lyrics isolated to his emotions, removed from time or place. Elsie is not as much of a narrative as it is a fourty-five minute catharsis, one that was apparently WAY overdue for Fallon. 

Now, I’m well aware at how frequently I compare The Horrible Crowes to The Gaslight Anthem, and that a true analysis of the record should be independent from past releases. But it seems as though the intent of this record was to allow Fallon the opportunity to diversify (well, I mean, as much as he can). This record existed as a deliberate removal from his previous work, presumably to escape a one-dimentional approach to songwriting. Surprisingly, Elsie doesn’t play like a couple of guys with something to prove. Instead, Elsie demonstrated a formative move to remain grounded and regain perspective in the wake of critical and financial success. This type of anti-rockgod humility certainly does not go unappreciated. 

Listen to: “Lady Killer”

New Latterman