Top 10 x 2

Agony. The annual top 10 is fucking painful. HOW does one choose? HOW does one remember? I'm overwhelmed. Here's weeks (yes weeks) of sleepless debates in my own head and obsessive listening and re-listening. I've genre-d this out, otherwise it would be impossible. Please comment with your own top 10 or tell me to shut it. Whatevs.


Artist : Album : Label

Pop/Rock/Indie/Whatever:


10. Scout Niblett : Kidnapped by Neptune : Beggars' Banquet/Too Pure

Sounding like Cat Power's bitchy, alcoholic older sister (the one with the punkrock fake English accent), Niblett warmed my heart while she rocked my ears with the best "shoop shoop"s this side of Sharon Jones. Albini is on the decks, and you can feel (and hear) his touch. Besides, "Fuck Treasure Island" is SUCH a good name for a song!


9. More Dogs : Never let them catch you crying : Monitor

Monitor Records can do no wrong. This album is, top-to-bottom, amazing. I think they must have something in the water in Rhode Island, because some insane shit comes out of there. Including this stunning instrumental, erratic, convoluted percussive mess of a pop album. Its uplifting, clever, whimsical and hooky. What the fuck else do you want?


8. Minotaur Shock : Maritime : 4AD

This might be too indiepoptronic to be on the list, but perhaps not electronic enough to be on the other list. Either way, this disc charmed the pants off me (yep, I'm pantsless.) in ways I didn't think possible. Every song is so fun, so full of life and organic energy that I can't find one thing wrong with any of them. "Muesli" = best use of clarinets, ever.


7. Architecture in Helsinki : In Case We Die : Bar/None

This record is so cute it makes me throw up a little in my mouth every time I hear it. I can sit back and imagine 8 people standing in a room together, each with their little parts to contribute, all smiling HUGE smiles at each other, all thinking, "man, we're the fucking shit! The world will love us!" Oh, we do. Australia hasn't sounded this good since INXS.

6. Sufjan Stevens : Illinoise : Asthmatic Kitty

"What? Sufjan isn't even in your top 5?" Yep that's right, hipster bitches. He's number 6. You know why? Cause he isn't the fucking messiah, he's just a dude with cheerleaders for a band, and a sick record to boot. Enough with the bukkake, he doesn't need it.


5. Messer Chups : Crazy Price : Ipecac

Does Russia even HAVE surfing? Whatever. It's the classic story: Russian band meets German programmers, they go on vacation to "The Dick Dale Bible School of Mashing Up Surf with Breakbeats and Absurdly Fat Basslines" and graduate with flying colors. It happens...never. Except here, now, on this crazy fucking album from some psycho Russian dudes with weird album art and even weirder samples. I mean, who samples Squirrel Nut Zippers?! WHO, I ask you?! Messer Chups, that's who.


4. Deerhoof : The Runners Four : 5RC/Kill Rock Stars

How did Deerhoof EVER escape my attention until this album? And why do I discover even BETTER albums, that are OLDER than this?! Who are they to be so alternately cute-then-abrasive-back-to-cute?! Broken beats, fuzzbox guitar, falsetto harmonies, funny lyrics and amazing time signatures. It's like bonerville, population: me. This record makes me shit my shit, as Junbar would say. Viva Deerhoof!


3. Bloc Party : Silent Alarm : Vice/Dim Mak

Shut up already, cynics. This album could fly if it was a superhero, but it wouldn't save yr skeptica ass, cause you can't help but deny that every hook, line and sinker on this record RULES. Yr tappin' your toes, aren't you? Yr remembering every word! SING ALONG NOW, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. Forget it, Bloc Party are going to curbstomp the doubters to death, cause that's the kind of superheroes they are. Bad motherfucker superheroes.


2. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah : S/T : Independent

I tried my VERY hardest not to fall in love with this record. RESIST THE HYPE, I told myself. Then I heard it one too many times and I was singing, tapping, asking who it was and being frustrated that I had been sucked into the vacuum of awesome, and CYHSY were to blame. Not only did they sell a brazillon copies of the record WITHOUT a label, but they did it BY THEMSELVES. How rad is that?! The naysayers must have forgotten what it means to WRITE GOOD MUSIC, because that's what this record is. Good fucking music. I clap, I say yeah, I clap again. I say yeah again. Number 2. Brilliant.


1.Tom Vek : We Have Sound : Startime International

How can the best record of the year be so fucking rad at everything? Whether it's a garage rock hit, a sensitive songwriters' best work, a breakbeat nerds' wet dream, Tom Vek does it all. The sheer diversity of the album is enough to draw you in repeatedly, as I find myself STILL singing along with it hours after it's finished. A near-flawless album, with amazing production, wicked vocal work and a sound which feels exciting again. The best part? He's a KID...which means there is YEARS more insane music to come out of them fingers.



Electronic/Jazz/Whatevz:

AND honorable mentions...of all genres.

Artist : Album : Label


10. Dangerdoom : s/t : Epitaph

Any record that asks "why did you buy this album?" right off the bat is awesome. it then goes on to insult you, rock you, make you bounce, smile and laugh. Doom rules. Dangermouse rules. How could this project go wrong?


9. Richie Hawtin : Transistions : Mnus

Deep. Dark. Hard. Funky. VILLALOBOS REMIXES. Epic. Sexy. Essential Hawtin, and a genuine evolution in his trademark minimal techno sound. This is electronic music that thinks BEYOND convention, beyond the tools at his fingertips...it's inspired, even.


8. Audion : Suckfish : Spectral

Perhaps Detroit has always known that techno is the perfect soundtrack to the perfect fuck...but did they know what the SOUND of someone producing techno FOR fucking? they do now. This record BLEEDS sex - its hard, makes you sweaty, gets you all hot n' bothered...yum.


7. Hot Chip : Coming On Strong : DFA/Astralwerks

I heard a new genre name in reference to Hot Chip...which I find very accurate: Slow Beat. It's not downtempo (mostly cuz it's not based in hiphop), it's not techno or house...it's slow beat. Groovy, warm basslines roll under hillarious lyrics about bling, beaches, rides, Prince and Stevie Wonder's blindness...vote Hot Chip in '06!


6. Hanne Hukkelberg : Little Things : Leaf

Move over Bjork; Beth Gibbons, Orton - get out. A new queen of blissed-out soulful, jazzy poptronic is here, and her name is Hanne. This record has taken me MONTHS to peel back all the layers of sounds, clicks, pops and whistles, and even now it still surprises me that this disc didn't make more of a splash here. It's the best thing I've heard on Leaf since Icarus...and like her labelmates, Hukkelberg constantly pushes the envelope of NEW sounds, NEW rhythms and music that takes BOLD steps forward...that IS the point, no?


5: Colder : Heat : Output

The further I get down this list, the more I realize that what defines a good electronic record is some element of SEX - whether its funky, ass-shaking basslines...dark drum rumbles or deep, hot-voiced singing...its gotta be there. Thank GOD Colder gets it all right, all the time. I vote 'Downtown' to be one of the hottest songs ever written, and I have yet to drop it to a dancefloor that didn't get right nasty when they heard it. that's right, NASTY.


4. The Juan Maclean : Less than Human : DFA/Astralwerks

I could go on and on and on about how awesome this album is - about its live drums, about the awesomeawesome Nancy Wang on vocals, about the clear-as-glass production, about the sheer DEPTH of some of the basslines...oh wait, I just did. This is a classic-sounding DFA release without sounding recycled...a disc full of little tributes without sounding 'retro' or old...it's a true gem is what it is. Get it if you don't have it. You can thank me later.


3. MIA : Arular : X_L Recordings

Sometime last June I walked into Blackbyrd Records after someone had told me, "run, don't walk, and buy the new MIA, and dont ask any questions, just fucking GET IT!!"...so I did just that, but I made Chris put it on the big stereo there...I was stunned. As a fan of cheesy 90's UK Garage, rap, ethnic beats and grime, this record combined everything I loved about dancing, uh..sex, hiphop, gettin dirty on the dancefloor, etc, into one HELL of a record. Big things are coming for this lady - watch the fuck out.

2. Four Tet : Everything Ecstatic : Domino

OK first, to all you haters: Fuck Off. Four Tet is a genius, and this IS his best record yet, so eat it. You say he's messy? I like messy. You say it's too rough to sound good? I love rough-sounding records that are SUPPOSED to sound rough. You think the basslines suck? What the fuck is wrong with you?! (yes, this is based on a real conversation about this album with some clueless fop.) This is a near-perfect record...perfectly ordered, paced and delivered, the mightymighty Kieran Hebden has dropped the one of the best bombs of the year...fully shedding his (unfortunate) 'folktronic' tag, this record gets right back to the hiphop roots he built himself upon, but takes many cues from free jazz, funk and casiotonegasms...hot. hot. hot. I love it.

1. LCD Soundsystem : s/t : DFA

Why is this record number one? I dunno, why do bears attack people? Because they're born that way...like this record was born of awesomeness. ok, that's a horrible analogy...what I mean to say is that considering the pedigree of genius behind it, LCD Soundsystem simply made 2005 that much more enjoyable. They were one of the best live acts I saw this year, put out the best albums of the year, and the soulwax shibuya remix of "daft punk..." is seriously THE FUCKING A-BOMB...a deserving record for all the hype its got so far...yay LCD!

Honorable Mentions:
-The Last Deal : s/t : Roast Rec's
-Diplo : Fabric 24 : Fabric
-Stereolab : Kyberneticka Babicka EP : Too Pure
-Shout Out Out Out Out : NCMUTWS 12" : NRMLS WLCM
-The Locust : Safety Second, Body Last : Ipecac
-Grlz : Compilation : Crippled Dick Hot Wax
-DFA Holiday Mix : Compilation: DFA
-Daedelus : Exquisite Corpse : Mush

FAN-FUCKIN-TASTIC!!

Mountains are boring, and other reflections.

It's true.
I'm in Canmore, spending Christmas eve sitting in a cafe by myself while my family hikes. I'm too sore from skiing yesterday, so I'm here, left to contemplate this year past...which makes me bored. and sad. and happy. and...thoughtful.

In the last year, I...

-ended my longterm relationship with Laura. after 5+ years, we couldn't hack it anymore; our lives had become different, distant in our goals, diverging in direction. This was a hard fact to swallow, but as they say, time heals all wounds. She was, is, and remains one of my best and closest friends. We hang out, make(loving)fun of eachother's sex lives, drink wine and play scrabble. It's the best possible scenario to have arrived at - mature, even.

-grew a beard and moustache. I love it, and don't care what you think. Unless yr a hot girl. or guy. who likes it. it's strange how I can redefine my masculinity through hair...but I think I did.

-chased down Tortoise to play a show in Edmonton. It took over six months, but I felt like it was a highlight of my "career" so far. I drove to Calgary to hang out with them at Folk Fest, drove them to Edmonton, and spent 2 days playing host to some of the nicest, most professsional and easygoing musicians I have ever worked with. How...satisfying.

-made some decisions. Like...to exclude my grandfather from my life. I can't handle him anymore; I want little to do with him. I also 'decided' to go to law school...and like most 'decisions' I make, I jumped the gun and told my family and now I have the weight of expectation resting on my shoulders. I'll shirk it how I want to. I'll go when I want to. I have other things to focus on. ask me next year.

-turned 25. I've never been so conscious of my age before - I feel like I need to have DONE something so far...lets take stock: I have a degree (poli sci. useless? kinda.), a job that I love, friends that I'll have for life...why do I feel so unaccomplished? do I NEED law school? do I NEED a relationship? do I NEED to improve my relationship with my family? I have no fucking clue.

What I do know is that I think I feel HAPPY for the first time in a long time. I feel like my emotional turmoil of the last 6 months is coming to an end. And that winter is setting in and I get to hibernate for a while. It's time to get shit sorted. Reach a decision or several. Fall into a crush. Get better at Scrabble. Talk to my sisters more. Read more books. Flex that brain of mine. Smoke less pot, drink more red wine. We'll see about that last one. These aren't resolutions; they're plans.

Plans. I like having those.

Sheila

the last of the myspaz reposts. and now back to your regular scheduled blogging.

It started as any normal day does. I did some running about, errands, etc...I parked in my normal spot several blocks away from work and started my normal route to work...walking along 102 ave I opted to cross the street to walk under the pedestrian tunnel by the construction site (I like the grafitti in it)..which is where I found Sheila.

she was lying on the ground having a seizure, her boyfriend cowering over her trying to hold her still as she jerked and spasmed. he knew to turn her on her side so she wouldnt choke on her own puke, but he was mumbling, "she ain't breathin', she ain't breathin!". I looked and saw her eyes rolling back in her head. he rolled her onto her back and was hitting her on the chest. "breathe! breathe!" he yelled, desperate for a response. he obviously had no clue what to do.

I was paralyzed - I didnt know what to do either. I stood up and looked around and by that time there was about a dozen business-types on the ground, looking at this poor woman, just staring...I yelled, "does ANYONE KNOW WHAT TO DO?!"...

...and as those words escaped my lips, it hit me. All the first aid that I learned in babysittng class in grade 6, in swimming lessons in jr. High...everything came flooding back - I snapped into help mode and I dropped to the ground beside her. "call 911" I said to the guy next to me, but he was already dialing. I grabbed her wrist. weak pulse. I put my finger under her nose - soft breath, but breathing nonetheless. the boyfriend was now crying. "she's hungry, thats all. she's just weak. and asthmatic."

"but why is she having a seizure? what did she take?!" I demanded
"I don't know, I've never seen her do this!" the guy replied. "Sheila, sheila, come back honey, stay with us".

the guy on the phone starts asking questions -

"is she still breathing"
yes.
"does she have a pulse"
yes. speeding up, all of a sudden.
a courier breaks through the staring crowd and drops down beside me.
"we need to figure out her heart rate. count them...Now."
I count. 19 in 10 seconds. 104 in a minute. that's fast.

sheila is spasming less now, but now foaming at the mouth, and I see something in her mouth - dentures. I hold her mouth open and tell the boyfriend to pull them out. only now do I get a look at her. she's maybe 30. tatoos on her face, hands, neck. massive goose egg on her forehead, probably from when she fell. her eyes are dark and vacant. I dont think she can feel a thing.

I look at the boyfriend, straight in the eye. "what did she take?"
he looks away.
"methadone," he says really quietly. "and lots of it. she's trying to kick. she hasn't eaten anything, she's asthmatic. it all added up just now".

I tell this to the guy on the phone. he tells the 911 people. an ambulance is on its' way. the spasms have stopped, she's a little more alert now, reacting to our use of her name. she's drifting off, eyes rolling back. we're all yelling her name to keep her with us...the ambulance arrives...they take over, and I stand up. everyone has left - its just me, the courier, the guy on the phone, sheila and the boyfriend. we're all shaken. I realize that she's safe now, and I put on my headphones and walk away. about a block later I began to shake inside myself - I couldn't (and still can't) get the image of her eyes out of my head. so dead, so...absent. I'm still a little shaken.

I hope she lives to see next year. I hope she lives to see next Christmas. I fear she won't.

sorry to be all depressing; I needed to write that out so I know that it happened.

Too Old.

myspace re-blog #2. stay with me here, people.


in the 1960s, Malcolm X gave a speech decrying comments made by a US Senator about certain outspoken members of the African-American community as being "too black", like coffee, and needed "whitening", as in, to ease having to consume something perhaps, offensive (to the taste - double entendre!)

X's comments were celebrated because the concept of someone being "too black" seemed ridiculous then (and now)...

...but now, I'm going to be the asshole. because there is someone I have to call out for being...TOO OLD.

that's right. My ageism is back.

i for one think that there should be a MAXIMUM driving age (like there is a minimum), just like there should be some way to enforce RETIREMENT, because in the end, people like the man I have a gripe with are simply TOO OLD TO WORK.

case in point (some of you may have heard this before): I work in an office buiiding downtown, and just next door to my office is that of a lawyer who we'll call Paul. Paul is FUCKING OLD. how old? well, WAY past 65. for sure. I'd say....85? maybe 90? the guy should be enjoying his riches on a beach somewhere, chasing some tail and drinking mohitos, not dominating the hallway with his walker while ten people try to get by him.

why do I hate Paul so much? several reasons.

for one, he yells. constantly. all day. and i hear him through the wall, all day, yellling at his poor secretary about this and that, but it never fucking stops! GET A HEARING AID if you can't hear yourself talk, don't YELL all the fucking time.

another, which is the reason which inspired this blog is seriously sick. you might throw up a little. atleast once every 2 weeks I go into the bathroom (a shared bathroom for our floor) and one of the stalls is inexplicably covered in SHIT. no, seriously. SHIT. I can only imagine this crusty old lech getting into the stall, closing the door, dropping his pants and spinning around and around while he shits and pisses freely about the stall, then makes some less-than-half-assed attempt to clean it up, leaving STREAKS OF SHIT everywhere. the walls, the seat, the floor. it's sick.

and today, HE DID IT AGAIN! I can't FUCKING believe this cockrot! WHAT TOPS IT IS THAT THIS IS THE THIRD GODDAMN TIME!!! THREE TIMES!! WHO DOES THAT??!!!

WHO WHO WHO WHO WHO?
WHO thinks its acceptable?
ok maybe once, its an accident, he couldnt get to the bathroom soon enough or something. maybe you're thinking, "eli, lay off. he's old, he's incontinent".

ok, well if you're old to the point of incontinence, RETIRE. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRISTMUKKAH RETIRE!!!!!!!

Paul is too old. Someone, please - relate to me. Are you as annoyed at old people as I am? ok maybe it's not ALL old people, but they can't drive, can't shit, and are mean to orphan kittens. I have proof.

Dirty Work - An Apology

THIS IS A RE-BLOG(is that a word?) from myspace. my first few blogs will be reposts, so I can archive them here...sorry if you've seen this before.

Dear Brad...chances are you won't ever read this, but it makes a good story, even if I am really sorry.

well, first, it wasn't my fault.

we (my friends kent and sara) got megahammed at No Means No on friday night, and took a cab back to Kent's house to smoke a joint or some such deal and I went to the bathroom and heard this "whack! whack! fwwwwwwwwhack!" over and over from the living room...and so I go out and kent and sara are throwing combs (yes, combs) into the ceiling fan and watching them splinter and get blown to pieces.

Combs become pens.
pens become a vhs copy of the movie "dirty work" (ironically, a movie about pranks).

Dirty Work gets thrown into the fan..it breaks in half sending 2 reels of VHS tape in opposite directions which sara and I pick up and decide that this is pretty much the best result ever, and...decide to wrap the whole inside of the house in VHS tape. like everything. couches, guitars, the fridge, etc...it ends when we run out of tape, the fan is fully broken, and we've created a massive hanging sculpture out of tape, the broken casette, some combs, a beer bottle or 2 and a balloon animal (half popped).

(all of this goes on despite my oblivion to the overall neatness of the house, or the fact that I'm still wearing my shoes)

so at about 3:30, one of kents roommates comes home. while he's not SO mad, he's kinda like, "uh...clean up time?" and we were ABOUT to do just that when the OTHER roommate gets home, and in short, flips the fuck out. completely. screaming and yelling and trying to impress his new lady friend (who's facial expression was like.."uh, these are your roommates??!!") by kicking Kent out of the house (he later changed his mind) and that's when sara and I made our (un)graceful exit...

the only thing *slightly* cooler than this whole thing is that when we left the house we turned the corner to see a car freshly wrapped around a pole and a couple of scared and hurt teenage car theives running away from it. is that what they mean by just desserts?

anyways, that's the story. I'm sticking to it. I feel like an ass for trashing my friends' house while I was drunk, but in the end...funny?

kinda.