I'm going to start off this first round with a real hot carl of an upset.
I like Portishead. Portishead evokes memories for me of an old apartment in Chicago, friends's CD's mixed with friend's CD's, piled on top of a stereo in a kitchen with large checkered tiles. That's about where it's good for me, though. Trip hop and yazz, the color blue. Blue, blue, blue. "III" rocks the shiv in a different way, but it's also a toughy. I get pretty bored with Beth Gibbons's voice. It requires me to move out of the kitchen, and go some place else - I'm not sure where. I can't go with it.
Dirty Projectors are also pretty demanding, but just when you think this Dave Longstreth fellow is going to twee it up pretty rotten - you know, tie you down with a wet sweater in an apartment covered in cat piss while he croons - this album just kind of rocks in places. The Nico-reminiscent "Two Doves" is just beautiful. "Cannibal Resource" kicks it - kind of Bobby Conn-esque, for those Chicagoans out there. If you're unconvinced, consider the album cover. The homely, boring girl is channeling the hot, St. Vincent-looking girl. That says something about the direction of this album.
Warning: I will probably routinely pick albums that are in some sense representative of a 2005-2011 aesthetic - just because I love thinking about things like that. So, with that, and the other pretty weak reasons above, I'm going with the Dirty P's.
Wait, can I change my pick even once this round is over?
ReplyDeleteCould you describe this over-arching 2006-11 vibe in some tangible way? Still, good call.
ReplyDeleteReally good call. Keep making em like this and I promise never to get twee on your ass.
ReplyDeleteHad a hard time getting into III. Not sure why. I'll give it another listen.
ReplyDeleteI think it's fairly obtuse, but in the right mood I love this album. Even in the wrong mood I appreciate it. When I first heard "The Rip," or first listened to it closely, I was in the car and when I came home I went straight to the big speakers and blasted it. The point where the synth comes in about half way through is one of my favorite musical moments of recent time. Kind of like when Bono starts singing on "Where the Streets Have No Name," or when the drums start on John Coltrane's "Alabama." Seriously. Leave Noe downstairs (with Hannah, of course) turn off the lights, crank it, and feel the darkness.
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