Going along with that, these aren't numbered, because fuck precise categorization. Any number of these albums have shifted places from week to week, so it would be disingenuous to insert them into specific, numbered slots.
Trash Talk - 119
By all rights hardcore should be dead, and for all intents and purposes, it is. The decaying carcass is being kicked every now and then by a lifer intent on cashing in, but the narrow purview of the sub-genre stopped somewhere around 1985.
Thank god, then, someone forgot to fill in Trash Talk. Ignorant of anything beyond LOUD and ANGRY, the Sacramento natives storm through an impressive 14 songs in just over 20 minutes. That in itself isn't necessarily an admirable feat, as many before have done the same, and faster, but what buoys 119 is the fact that the band crafts their hate-anthems into exactly that: anthems. These are songs for a forgotten underground, from the fuck-everything parade of "Blossom & Burn" to the rolling thunder of "Dogman".
TRUST - TRST
Somewhere in the dark heart of DANCE reside TRUST. Where many current dance acts are worried only about building to the drop, and others the WUB WUB WUB, and others still vainly search for ways to make their music undanceable, TRUST skulks in the back waiting to seduce you. This isn't a rohypnol-in-your-drink kind of seduction, as is often the case with most of these acts. This is the silver tongued devil enticing you with promises of acts you've until now only fantasized but not yet dare commit.
Having previously worked together in the more straightforward Austra, the two members of TRUST commit to a slithering, seductive sound that harkens back to goth-dance forebearers of yesterday. And while the music itself is strong, the selling point is clearly front man Robert Alfons' voice. Alternately an awkwardly soothing croon, as on the strobe-lit swirl of "Sulk", and a coiled snake waiting to strike, as shown in the pulsing "Shoom", his voice is always the main point of fascination.
Moonface w/ Siinai - Heartbreaking Bravery
We often overuse the word epic in our vernacular as a way to compensate for the fact that most of our ideas are lacking in scope; but, there are some people for whom the word truly does exist in the proper context. Spencer Krug only knows EPIC. In capital letters, no less. As a songwriter and musician the man cannot help the fact that his reach consistently oversteps its bounds. He's wont to reach for the stars even when he has both hands tied behind his back, which happened frequently in many of his other projects.
On Heartbreaking Bravery his reach again probably exceeds his grasp, but not for a lack of trying. Not wildly obscurist, as on the fantasy-worshiping prog project Sunset Rubdown, nor entirely populist, as with trend setting Wolf Parade, Moonface is the middle ground that reigns in Krug's wilder ideas while maintaining the soaring melodies he's come to be known for. "Teary Eyes and Bloody Lips" is the new wave-leaning single that soars, while "Headed for the Door" doesn't just glide on the album's previous highs but reaches higher yet for the heavens above.
Merchandise - Children of Desire
Merchandise is a young band with big ideas. They're not content with simply making a statement with their music. That would be too simple. To make a statement, they're just putting words out there for you to see and read. No, they want to make you feel something. Children of Desire is a testament to the power of songwriting as a means for transformation, physical, metaphysical, or otherwise.
"Time" and "Become What You Are" is the means of transformation. Apart they're both exceptional songs, but together they're a form of transcendence that frees the spirit of temporary ills and allows a listener to ascend to a higher state of musical cognizance.
The Men - Open Your Heart
From the opening bluster of "Turn It Around", through the pleas of "Please Don't Go Away", to frenzied finale of "Ex-Dreams", this is RAWK music. There are pleasant detours, as in the countrified shuffle of "Candy", but in the end this is music dedicated to one purpose: to rock.
But seriously -- RAWK. Sometimes that's all you need.
Chromatics - Kill For Love
Dance music has seen a rebirth over the past decade, moving from the dank pits of sweaty clubs where bald body builder DJs bark gestapo-like orders to "Get yr asses to the floor, yo!" to the critical highs usually only reserved for mush-mouthed rockist elites. If anything, dance music has supplanted rock music as the music of the people. So it's only fair then that a rockist approach be applied to the genre to ferret out some of its stranger crevices.
What makes Kill For Love interesting is that it mashes together two ideas that are inherently hostile towards each other, bringing together disco and the AOR format. There are clear standouts on the album, "Lady" and the title track are the two obvious examples, but the focus of Kill For Love isn't producing a slew of radio-friendly singles; it's in stringing together songs in a sequence that delivers a greater narrative. The most subversive example of this intended conflict is shown on lead-off track "Into the Black", a cover of a Neil Young. Originally known as a grungy rawk song, Chromatics transform the song into a yearning, weary ballad that hints at the comedown after a night of partying. And that's how the album starts.
Geoff Barrow & Ben Salisbury - DROKK: Music Inspired by Mega-City One
DREDD was a very basic attempt at telling the Judge Dredd character's story in a way that wasn't a cinematic abortion like the previous attempt. While not exceptional, it was entertaining. Part of the reason was the unique soundtrack which incorporated paranoid synthesizers along with the aggressive guitars. Unfortunately, what was good could have been great.
Commissioned by DREDD's creators, DROKK was a collaboration between Portishead's Geoff Barrow and composer Ben Salisbury. Drawing inspiration from the works of John Carpenter and Tangerine Dream, the two crafted a harsh, unforgiving sound that was equal parts The Thing and Sorcerer; all the better to score Dredd barreling down the industrial wasteland of Mega-City One on his lawmaster. While that never came to fruition, we're still left with an exceptional composition to fuel fantasies of a lurid nightmare land.
Swans - The Seer
Michael Gira began Swans as a vile, ugly beast rampaging through the safe confines of '80s alternative music. Pummeling a single riff into oblivion, Swans built a reputation on delivering abrasive, confrontational music. Then Love Will Tear Us Apart happened. Abandoning their hostile no wave for pretty post-punk, world music, and folk, Swans found a second life in the alternative world they once shunned. Unfortunately, Gira couldn't reconcile this period with the previous deeming it a failure. It took twenty years for the man to find a middle ground between those two paths, and that middle ground is The Seer.
Delivering on the promise of the harsh textures hinted at with My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky, Gira finds a new voice between Swans two previous periods. Not entirely devoted to the single-minded drone of Swans' early years nor high-minded compositions of its "pretty years," The Seer finds the band incorporating elements of both to create the strongest album in its catalog.
"Mother of the World" is the clear point where the two merge. It begins on a single riff repeated ad nauseum until the riff literally dies midway through, and the song is reborn as an orchestral composition wherein Gira laments an existential crisis.
Pop. 1280 - The Horror
The Horror is ugly music. It begins by asking you to conjure the mental image of "two dogs fucking." It doesn't get any more rosy or uplifting after that, and in point of fact, it only gets worse. But that isn't meant to say this a tired slog through an angry goth kid's darkest high school fantasies. Pop. 1280 troll the depths of depravity and filth with a kind of glee rarely found in rock music.
"Nature Boy" mocks anyone looking for rhythm with its scuzzy lurch backing deranged barks of "hips to the right, and hips to the left," as if anyone would be brave enough to do so; "Bodies in the Dunes" is the great theme song William Lustig's excellent Maniac should've had; and "Crime Wave" is the crazed call-to-arms for the scum of the earth to rise up and take control of the streets.
Pallbearer - Sorrow and Extinction
Sorrow and Extinction does for metal what Loveless did for indie rock. It's more than just an album; it's an experience. The guitars contort and bend to give shape to sounds that, while familiar, are wholly unrecognizable. And the vocals recall former greats, but the wail is distorted and sunken in a way that lends itself to the subject matter in a way that sets it apart from the high-pitched shrieks of other metal gods.
Then there's the subject matter. Sorrow and extinction. Neither is new or terribly interesting for the genre. Many other bands have mined that territory before. Grief is a common color to paint with when your dealing in the canvas that is metal. But where Pallbearer separate themselves is the direction they take, instead choosing to underscore the grief with beauty. They find an unexpected grace in suffering, elevating the sound from victim to survivor.
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