Sound Salvation Army

The purpose of a music blog, one supposes, is to update frequently, preferably as things happen or as soon after they happen as possible. That’s always my intent, but then life happens.

So here I am, almost a week after the fact, telling you about the show I saw in Toronto last Wednesday. Sorry, but that’s how it goes sometimes!

Anyhoo!

Peaches feels cream. Or at least, that’s what her new album, I Feel Cream, would have you believe. I don’t know if feeling cream means she’s feeling more mellow these days, but Peaches’ new release is definitely a little less… raw than her previous efforts and that’s not at all bad. She’s employing some restraint in her songs without sacrificing any of the blatant sexuality and rampant swearing that has made her famous. And if this album is lacking the bombastic oomph of her earlier stuff, it makes up for it with its all-around vibe of an artist coming into her own in an entirely new way. I read a review of Peaches’ Fatherfucker that claimed she sounded bored singing about sex, which is too bad since that’s her bread and butter. The reviewer went on to say Impeach My Bush was a huge improvement over that earlier effort. I worry that some will think I Feel Cream is similarly “boring” because she isn’t screaming “Fuck the Pain Away.”

I think her musical progression can be looked at in the way you look at sex. It’s like, the more sex you have, the better you become at it. Peaches is a woman who knows her sex. She does it all the ways. And this time out, it’s like she’s in a steady relationship that’s healthy and exciting and the sexy is dirty and fun and mutually satisfying on the deepest levels. It’s also more subtle and stealthy and knowing. There’s a slyness to it that I think comes from being very, very good at what she does and a certain soulfulness behind the barked lyrics that comes through strong in her singing.

And besides, BOY does she know how to please with her live shows! They’re sexual, screwy, loud and all-around fun for those of us who would otherwise have no place to wear our hot pants and fishnets. It’s interesting to listen to the album and then hear her live. Her shows tease and build and explode into an orgasmic delight of lazers and costumes and chanted calls for the removal of clothing.

The mid-week show at the Phoenix was a hometown visit for Peaches, who was once an elementary school music teacher, and the crowd showed its appreciation early and often. Especially when she got her parents on stage. Mr. and Mrs. Peaches looked happy to be there, standing beside their daughter, who was, at the time, resplendent in gold chains and a white body suit under a pair of HUGE fake breasts. Then she bid them adieu, like “Bye mom and dad! I have to sing about fuckin’ now.”

Peaches with her mom and dad at the Phoenix in Toronto.

But I digress. Her set was a fine, sweaty mix of old and new tunes. I can’t pretend I love I Feel Cream as much as I love Impeach My Bush, but it’s still a solid entry into her discography and this shizz sounds great live. Trust me, she did two encores because we just wouldn’t leave! I danced and danced and shook my tail around like it was on fire! And when it was all over, I felt like I needed a damn cigarette.

During the course of the show, I also decided that I have to figure out how to make balloon animals, because at one point, she came out riding a motorcycle made entirely of balloons. So if I can get a job making elaborate balloon animal set pieces for raunchy rock stars, surely I will be set for life.

Opener Amanda Blank was all about winding it tight and watching it explode. I don’t want to say that women who rap are rare, because I just don’t know enough about them. But I feel pretty safe in saying that women who rap that well are given short shrift. I don’t even know if I can put M.I.A. and Santigold in the same category as her. They’re very good at what they do, but Amanda Blank is rapping for realsies. She’s the Mayo to the Miracle Whip of sundry other rappers and she will not tone it down. I wish to hell I could find the version of Jay-Z’s “99 Problems” she spit out at the show.

Until then, I’m happy to listen to her album, I Love You, available on iTunes. Meanwhile, Peaches’ album, I Feel Cream is also available on iTunes and her online store, where you can and should purchase the rest of her albums. The business, yo. She’s the business.

 

 Peaches - Talk To Me: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Peaches - Boys Wanna Be Her: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Peaches - Fuck the Pain Away: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Amanda Blank - Make It Take It : Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Tanis entries Amanda Blank, Canadian content, live shows, mp3, Peaches, rap, Toronto

This record had so much promise.

The second collaboration between Saskatoon, Saskatchewan’s Factor and L.A.’s Awol One, this album is a crystal-clear example of why I’m simultaneously hopeful and yet totally disillusioned with modern rap music.

Most of the good will engendered on Owl Hours comes courtesy of Factor’s beat-making prowess. He’s a capable producer, able to deftly swing from blissful, synth-heavy arrangements to crafting tracks that combine the talents of an assembled group of live musicians and subtly-programmed drum loops. The first track is the former, a tight drum loop guiding a series of distorted synth-runs for a spare musical bed augmented by his own scratching on the song’s back end. Other cuts (like “Celebrate,” “Back Then”) boast minor key synths and softer sounds, one number late in the album coming across like a lost Postal Service number crafted with 808 snares. It’s a sophisticated, at times understated, palate that shows why rappers from xzibit to Busdriver have tapped Factor for tracks. Hell, one of the drum loops on “Official” sounds like it could’ve been pulled off one of Trent Reznor’s most industrial tracks (”Gave Up” from the Broken EP specifically).

Now: while the album’s two principle performers have a good chemistry and seem to be on the same page on most of these songs, that doesn’t mean this album is all highs. Trust me, there are lows.

I don’t want to take too much away from Awol based solely on these songs. He seems like a perfectly capable lyricist for the most part, but there’s something about his performance that makes it seem like he has something better to do than putting vocals down on tape. His raspy voice sounds almost detached, almost preoccupied on most of these songs. I don’t want to say bored, but I feel compelled to. Even when trying to explain his passion for music with a line like, “You don’t know what the rap life costs,” he comes off flat. The few moments where his voice really seems to fit are on “Brains Out,” a cast-off capital-h Hard Rapping track filled with braggadocio and misogynist posturing, and “Back Then,” which is an honest and relatable tale of love gone wrong. A sentiment that may be rote in rock music is far from it in rap and the tenuous singing voice displayed at the song’s beginning (which I’m assuming is Awol) perfectly displays how genuine the emotion of the tune is, how he wants to make his feelings known to this former lover even though it may be difficult. Its nice to see that vulnerability, especially because it keeps Factor in the spotlight. Unfortunately he gets overshadowed on several of the songs with guest vocalists, due simply to the fact that they seem to have a stronger vocal presence.

There are other tracks where the vocals and lyrics work a lot better, where they’re paired very well with Factor’s tracks (”Celebrate,” “Destination,” “Sunset Sandwich”). But I’m afraid there are a couple of moments that are too depressing for me to overcome.

First and foremost: I expect more from indie rappers than tracks like “Brains Out” and “Waste The Wine.” Maybe we’re on a different page but I feel like there are more than enough (re: any) songs in mainstream rap music that advocate slapping “bitches” on the ass, girls with big asses, fucking in a Mercedes, girls with big titties, girls with big-ass titties, ladies “juggling these motherfucking nuts” in their mouths, messing with groupies, being “hard” and shooting guns. That ground has been covered. I always hope that independent rappers will bring something new to the party, but these songs are awful retreads of “gangster” posturing that have no redemptive value. There’s simply no need for these staid themes of misogyny and violence. Thankfully Awol seems to stay away from those tropes for the most part, leaving them to unnecessary guest spots. But its kind of sad to see that element creep into the songs if that isn’t the featured rapper’s MO.

Also, can we just put a blanket ban on rappers saying, “Check the flow,” or any such derivative entreaty to listen to what they’re saying? It’s a fucking rap song; the “flow” is why people are listening. Asking is redundant.

In summation: this would be an interesting and thoughtful rap record with genuinely engaging beats if it didn’t devolve into stereotypical thuggisms and purposefully offensive, cartoonish sexism. Hopefully Awol and Factor get it right on their next venture and leave out the guest vocalists and unfortunate posturing.

 

 Awol One & Factor - Back Then (with Gregory Pepper & Ceschi) [3:32m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Awol One & Factor - Stand Up (with Myka & Aesop Rock) [3:28m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Pat entries Awol One, Factor, hip hop, Owl Hours, rap

It took months of having to listen to it before I came around on Kanye West’s 808’s & Heartbreak. My original review was the result of a first impression that failed to take into account the depth and intricacies of every element, every aspect of the album. Its majestic defiance of decades of expectations for hip-hop artists and the genre itself, its need to stand alone as a thing unto itself, its unbelievable emotional singularity within the greater umbrella of the rap community. Its total lack of rap.

Only a few of those things translate into a remix of the album’s big single, “Love Lockdown,” that dropped into my e-mail inbox this morning.

Remixes are a thing that I don’t generally cotton to (as you can probably guess by my use of such an antiquated phrase). I’m not a huge fan of electro- music and I’m even less of a fan of club music, house music, and “dance” music in general. If I wanted to give myself a headache I’d sit in front of a strobe light and hit myself in the skull with a hammer.

That’s where Young Wiz’s remix gets its first strike in my mind. Eschewing the glacial pace of the original, it ramps the beats-per-minute above 120, wiping out what was a cathartic build-up into the clatter of the chorus and replacing it with a constant backbone of thumping bass synth. Kanye’s already-roboticized vocals are now muddled under even more distortion, with one phrase (”You lose”) repeated ad naseum for more than a third of the track’s running time. There are also seemingly-random glitches and drop-outs slapped into the last sixty seconds which keep the listener on their toes, but its hard to say what other purpose they might serve. The repetition lasts long enough that the track seems to go out in a whimper instead of a bang. The original may have as well, but at least the entire thing hit a crescendo of percussion before fading out on the fuzzy bass-line.

There are some attempts to inject new blood into the track. A smattering of fake hand claps and some synthesized strings curry some good favour and offer a bit of freshness to the proceedings. The beat is subtly shifted up two or three times to keep folks stepping, and I’m pretty sure there are some hand drums sampled in there as well. That’s a nice touch.

This is far from my area of expertise, but I guess in some instances as a reviewer you can’t necessarily justify why you feel one way or another about something. This isn’t something I would go out of my way to listen to on a regular basis, but it isn’t bad. If you’re into dancey numbers or re-interpretations of songs this might be up your alley. At the very least, this will sound dynamite coming out of some the car trunk of a dude with arrested development.

 

 Kanye West - Love Lockdown (remix): Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Young Wiz tells me he’s just getting his feet wet; this is actually his first big remix. I’d recommend you go over to his Sound Cloud page and check things out. I’m sure he’d appreciate feedback from as many people as possible, so drop a comment while you’re over there.

Pat entries dance music, electronic, Kanye West, rap, remix, Young Wiz

12. Shad - the Old Prince
Was 2008 a banner year for Canadian hip-hop? I don’t know. I don’t know what it would take for Canadian hip-hop to have a good year, but I suspect that the simple fact that at least five rap albums were released over the year would show that it was a pretty good one. While former Pitchfork writer Rollie Pemberton’s Cadence Weapon project got most of the attention and acclaim, more consistent and entertaining artists like Buck 65 and Shad fell somewhat by the wayside. Shad made a play for attention by inexplicably remaking the intro to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air with his excellent single “the Old Prince Lives At Home.” That track is a bit of an anomaly though, as the number of love-lorn, world-weary, introspective think pieces on the album are far more prevalent. For me the standout is “I Heard You Had A Voice Like An Angel/Psalm 137,” wherein a sombre, almost defeated-sounding Shad laments the impact of the music business on talented black performers. The gorgeous musical arrangement (featuring Shad’s underrated guitar playing) fits perfectly with the heartbreaking and understated delivery, a perfect example of the depth and candor he’s capable of. The two tracks are excellent counterpoints and in a year where mainstream hip-hop was virtually non-existent (aside from Lil’ Wayne) it’s artists like Shad that make me hopeful for the future.

11. Basia Bulat - Oh, My Darling
This terrific debut LP from the Ontario singer-songwriter with the unusual name struck a chord with me from the first time I heard the opening track. While “Before I Knew” was later reprised in it’s full, expanded form on a 7″ single (with a great Sam Cooke cover on the A-side), the version that opens this album is the perfect introduction to an artist the entire nation has slept on for too long. Leading into “I Was A Daughter,” without a doubt one of the finest tracks of the year, shows the value of attentive sequencing. After that one-two punch you’re hooked and you won’t want to stop listening until the end. While it may seem like folk artists have exhausted the genre’s ideas, songs as well-constructed as these aren’t rote by any stretch of the imagination.

10. Hold Steady - Stay Positive
They may never again reach the dizzying heights of Boys and Girls In America, but this bands second-best is still superior to most of what’s out there. While choruses are more prevalent and Craig Finn is even taking singing lessons, the changes are subtle enough to make for a smooth transition. If you can get past “Constructive Summer” without smiling, playing a little air guitar, or sing-talking along then you may not have a soul.

The Old Prince is available at your local music store (if you’re Canadian), sometimes through CDBaby, and iTunes.
Oh, My Darling is available through iTunes and Rough Trade
Stay Positive exceeds the hyperbole; find it on the web and iTunes

Pat entries Basia Bulat, Best of, Buck 65, Cadence Weapon, folk, hip hop, Hold Steady, indie rock, rap, rock, Sam Cooke, Shad, Stay Positive, the Old Prince

15. Chuck Ragan & Austin Lucas - Bristle Ridge
When I heard this album was being recorded I nearly lost my mind. Chuck Ragan, one of my all-time favourite songwriters recording a full album with one of my favourite up-and-coming songwriters — how could it miss? They went a whole lot more “Appalachian family band” than I was expecting, but it’s got everything I like from both of them and more, all in one convenient package. If you’re not afraid of hill folk making jug music in your stereo, you can’t live without this. We’ve covered plenty of Ragan and Lucas in our extensive archives, by the way.

14. Frightened Rabbit - the Midnight Organ Fight
The success of this Scottish band in 2008, consisting mainly of two Scottish brothers, came as a surprise to many. While they had issued an intensely lo-fi debut LP, it was not nearly as widely heard as the Midnight Organ Fight (which, aside from being awesomely named, is totally interesting to listen to). The band keeps it as simple as they ever have; songs mostly don’t have any bass guitar in them because at the time they recorded the band didn’t have a bass player. They’re constructed from acoustic bed tracks up, coloured with keys and highlighted by the frantic caterwauling of lead singer Scott Hutchison. I’m a lyrics guy, so when someone can throw together mild violence on someone else’s eyeballs, the word “cunt,” and possibly the prettiest melody of the year into one track (”Poke”) I’m pretty impressed. Probably the most outstanding moment comes in just the second track, single “the Modern Leper.” Likening his consistent romantic failures to the titular medical condition, he paints a uniquely expressive picture of a man who is nothing more than alone. That is worth recognizing.

13. Why? - Alopecia
No album in 2008 straddled so many lines and genres as this one (at least none one that I enjoyed quite as much). It’s an engrossing listen that plays equally well whether you’re on your sofa with a hangover or driving along a desolate highway as the sun goes down. There are six or eight extremely well-developed, pure pop songs rendered even more entertaining by the often dour world view of songwriter/lyricist Yoni Wolfe. He brings the kind of clever wordplay and twisted turns-of-phrase that straight-forward hip-hop wishes it could come up with to his songs, even going so far as to correct his grammar on “the Fall of Mister Fifths.” Along with the latest TV On The Radio album, this is engaging, eclectic music that deserves a wider audience than it will get.

 

 Why? - Fatalist Palmistry [3:53m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Frightened Rabbit - the Modern Leper [3:49m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Chuck Ragan & Austin Lucas - the Light: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Bristle Ridge is available here: iTunes and cd/vinyl
The Midnight Organ Fight can be found: iTunes and physical
Alopecia is purchasable: iTunes or physical

Pat entries Alopecia, Austin Lucas, Best of, Bristle Ridge, Chuck Ragan, country, folk, Frightened Rabbit, indie rock, rap, the Midnight Organ Fight, traditional, Why?

Editor’s note: I think this might be our first post concerning a big-time major label artist/album. Get psyched for the lawsuit!

There’s a lot of symbolism surrounding the new Kanye West album and I don’t like it one bit.

I remember a time when every rapper was laying claim to the title of “best rapper ever.” That was all anyone in hip-hop really aspired to. Dre, Eminem, Snoop, Wu Tang. Hell, even Master P thought he was the top of the heat. Every notable rapper of the last fifteen years has had the market cornered on braggadacio.

Kanye may have made similar claims on his previous albums, even though its pretty much a concensus that while his work has shown numerous glimpses of genius in both production and lyrics, his flow is far from top-tier.

But guess what? It doesn’t matter anymore. Not even at all. Actual rapping in mainstream rap has taken a back seat to one of the all time lamest fucking gimmicks ever to hit music: blatant, constant use of auto-tune. Auto-tune is a piece of equipment that uses a phase vocoder to correct the fuck-ups of marginally talented people in vocal and instrumental performance. That means that if someone sings flat note, the software digitally corrects it so it sounds like the right note. Recently rappers have re-appropriated it as a way to make themselves sound like robots. TI, T-Pain,

So in a nutshell, instead of aspiring to be the greatest rappers ever, hip hop artists today are fighting to show off how absolutely terrible they are at singing. While I’m all for moving the genre away from flossing and violence and bad grammar and worse spelling and racial epithets and gangsterism, I’d also like to see those that have talent aspire to do better.

There’s no disputing that Kanye has plenty of talent, but after listening through this album a few times all I see is one enormous mistake. The material here is for the most part astonishingly good; aside from a couple of lame ducks, the songs are sparsely constructed and unified in theme and tenor. It’s a stark, dour reflection of everything that’s gone wrong in Kanye’s life and there’s no shortage of pain and emotion in his delivery. It overcomes his extreme arrogance, at least lyrically. You’d just never know it because every second of this album has fucking robot voice on it. Also, the Philosopher Kings already did the whole “heart monitor as beat” thing and it worked much better for them.

The rapping is minimized and West sings nearly all of every song. I have no problem with that, but I feel like I would’ve loved this album if he had taken an extra six months to get some vocal lessons, polish up those pipes, and do a proper job of singing these songs. Make it genuine. The robot voice just steals any sense of realness from the songs.

I don’t care if you make the most heartfelt and genuine songs of your life; I would rather hear them sung badly and passionately (like his first song on a recent Saturday Night Live performance) than stripped of any human quality at all. Hell, get someone else to sing them for you.

I sincerely doubt I’ll ever be listening to this album again.

 

 Kanye West - Love Lockdown [4:31m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Kanye West - Heartless: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

‘Ye would like you to buy it on iTunes if you have your robot ears on.

Pat entries auto-tune, depression, Kanye West, rap, robot voices, singer/songwriter

Boy, I haven’t written here in months. Yeah. Life. What’re you going to do?

Well, I’m going to write. I decided the best way to remedy my lack of posting here was to write about a song that I have been enjoying all summer long. I never imagined it would stay with me well into autumn, which is when I usually like to move to the warmer songs in my catalogue. Your Springsteens and your Elvis Costellos. The space heaters of my music collection. I can hear the power and the heat in their urgent vocals and it gives me a rush of warmth. Which is why I’m surprised to find myself still digging this song.

Because M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” is not warm. There’s energy here, but it’s a cold one. All sharp angles and harsh sounds. Damn the man, and while you’re at it, steal his shit and sell it back to him. Which is not to say I don’t like the song. Quite the contrary. It’s weird, because I’ve seen M.I.A. live, and she throws a fucking party. I mean it. You come to her show, you better get up and dance, hipster. No lingering in the back for you. She’ll pull you up on stage to shake what your mama gave you.

M.I.A. has been on my radar for a couple of years now, but this song, from her second album, Kala, catapulted her to the top of the heap. Maybe because I love the Clash so much and the sampling of “Straight to Hell” is so genius I’m a little bit in love with her. There’s a certain vain egotrip to being a rock critic, but I always assume that if I like something, a shit-ton of other people will like it, too. And while I like the original song, I’m more in love with the Diplo remix, which is from the Homeland Security Remixes album. 

Paper Planes is a combination of gritty politics and choice messages for those with power who would abuse it and those without power who only want to make a living. The politics on display here are not just M.I.A.’s “The man hates refugees in America” vibe, but also Joe Strummer’s “Immigrants get fucked over” message. It sure ain’t coca-cola. Not to mention the hustler’s screed of “It’s all in the game” street politics of “play or be played” from lyrical gangsters Bun B. and Rich Boy. The line “You can call five oh and five oh might come, but by the time they arrive all the dirt’s been done” sounds like it could’ve come straight from the lips of the late, great Omar on the equally late and great HBO show, “The Wire.”

Forget how many times you heard the chorus to this song in the trailer for Pineapple Express, this song is the SHIT. M.I.A. has beefed up the Clash loop a little. It’s fuller, fatter and perfectly at home with her laid back vocals and lazy lyrics about immigrants cashing in on the American dream.

My favourite lines? “Get your Robin Hood on/Put some pressure on the man” is a runner up only to “Excuse me, let me introduce my lady: her name is Beretta and she motherfuckin’ crazy.”

Awesome.

Without the rhymes, this song is perfectly serviceable. It’s full of hooks and sounds and kids singing, which I’m sure M.I.A.’s patron saint Strummer would approve of, but M.I.A. is purposefully aloof and detached and Bun B. and Rich Boy are not. It’s the rap that gives this version some added force and grit and the, I don’t know, growling, seething anger it needs to become better than it is.

 

 MIA - Paper Planes (Diplo remix): Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

You can get this shit from iTunes. Or, right here.

Tanis entries beats, Bun B., Diplo, hip hop, M.I.A., rap, remix, Rich Boy, samples, the Clash, the Wire

Check out that gam! It’s a leg lamp! And in the spirit of A Christmas Story (which TBS is running on a freakin’ 24-hour marathon again), I offer up Fall Out Boy’s Yule Shoot Your Eye Out. Normally, I do not subscribe to the pop-punk-crap asthetics of Fall Out Boy, but I cannot tell a lie: I enjoy their long song titles very much. This one, Yule Shoot Your Eye Out, is obviously an homage to Ralphie’s mother in A Christmas Story and her frequent refrain in response to his desire for a Red Ryder BB Gun. And the tune’s not TERRIBLE. I mean, it could be worse, right? Yeah. It could. I haven’t even gotten to the Knight Rider song yet!

Sam asked for Christmas in Hollis, but as Kurtis Blow points out on Christmas Rappin’, that is plaaaaayed out. Rap has evolved so much in such a short period of time, it’s hard to believe what a young genre it is. Kurtis Blow was a pioneer. With Run DMC’s help, he became one of the first successful hip hop MCs and definitely one of the first to be signed to a major label. Todays MCs got nothin’ on Blow. I mean, he rhymes roly poly with holey moley. BRILLIANT! I shouldn’t front. The dude opened for The Clash, so that makes him OK in my books. And speaking of Christmas rapping, what more gift could you possibly want other than a song with David Hasselhoff and K.I.T.T. saving Santa Claus? Nothing. That’s what. Be grateful, dammit. You know who that is speaking as K.I.T.T.? That’s Mr. Feeny, goddammit. You show some respect for Mr. Feeny!

Scissors For Lefty brings us Christmas Intentions, a song about naughty kids who are going to get nothing for Christmas. Think about this song as you get ready to mark another year. On New Year’s Eve, my mom used to tell me “You have to behave all year now. Santa remembers.” That threat worked better than almost anything else. If I was ever going to do something that might get me in trouble, I’d weigh the possibilities in my mind and then make my choice based on how close to Christmas it was. I mean, Santa watches ALL the time? Come on! He’s gotta sleep sometime! I was more of a Calvin-type. In the battle between being good and bad, goodness hardly put up much of a fight.

But no matter how long I had to wait, it wasn’t as long as most kids. My family celebrates Christmas on Christmas Eve. I don’t know why. Probably because my parents figured out early on we were easy to fool with a “Look! Over there! Oh, wow! While you weren’t looking Santa came!” Consequently, they never had to put up with a night of whining and pleading before getting up at 6 a.m. the next day to open presents.

This is the first year of my life that I won’t be spending Christmas Eve with my mom and dad and brother. I’m kind of sad about that, but I’ll see them in January. So I guess these feelings of regret and nostalgia are more because I don’t get to eat a delicious meal of Chinese food courtesy my hometown Chinese restaurant. I will miss you, ginger beef. When I moved away from home and had to travel to make it back for Christmas, Home on Christmas Day by Cyndi Lauper would play in my head. Being stuck in the city for Christmas when I just wish I could get home to relax is the worst feeling in the world. But like Cyndi says, I am just a thought away.

But enough of that gloominess!

Let’s talk about something else. I know! Drunks!

Fairytale of New York: Great Christmas song or GREATEST Christmas song? The answer is, of course, B. This is the best Christmas song currently in existence. From the drawling (possibly drooling) lament of Shane MacGowan, to the lilting loveliness of Kristy MacColl, this is just bracingly, refreshingly awesome. Long a favourite Christmas song in the UK, it’s been kicking around the airwaves on Christmas for 20-odd years now, consistently being named a favourite by critics and fans alike. So of course, in order not to offend anybody, BBC Radio 1 decided this was the year it should be censored.

Thanks, BBC, but no thanks. Kristy MacColl’s mother, the Pogues themselves, and countless listeners called the station to let them know in no uncertain terms that it was handily more offensive to edit the song than it ever would be to hear the words “cheap lousy faggot” uttered by MacColl.

First of all, I’ve heard it before. You’re not offending me because I already know the tune, dudes. You can take the words out, but their existence is made that much more obvious by their abscence. Second, I find it ironic that I can hear the intimate details of Jamie Lynn Spears’ sex life on the evening news, but I cannot listen to a Christmas classic unmolested. I feel like Senator Bulworth. “Obscenity!? Obscenity!?” Puh-lease. Luckily, the station saw the error of their ways and went back to playing the unedited version. A Christmas miracle.

So I guess that about does it for me for Christmas songs. Stay tuned for the songs and albums we all thought rocked the hizzy this year. Not sure EXACTLY when those are being made public, but be on the lookout!

Until then: Happy-Happy, Merry-Merry from your comrades in the Sound Salvation Army!

 

 Fall Out Boy - Yule Shoot Your Eye Out: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Kurtis Blow - Christmas Rappin': Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 A Knight Rider Christmas: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Scissors For Lefty - Christmas Intentions: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 Cyndi Lauper - Home on Christmas Day: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

 

 The Pogues - Fairytale of New York: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Tanis entries Christmas music, indie rock, mix tapes, pop, pop punk, rap, the Pogues

So apparently — according to one of my own hand-slected contributors — I’m a hippie for liking Common.

That’s all well and good — but it was framed as if that might be a bad thing. I’m not sure that it is, but on the off-chance that Sam is right, I present this song as a counter-point. My hope is that by liking both ODB and Common he will realize that I have awesome and well-rounded taste.

Anyway, here’s one of the most totally awesome songs ever. RIP, BBJ.

 

 ODB - I Can't Wait [4:00m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

ODB rocks the shit, people:
iTunes: solo rekkidz galore
Wu Tang “corporate” headquarters: i’m not sure what you’ll find here, but the new Clan record is on its way…

Pat entries hip hop, Ol Dirty Bastard, rap, Wu Tang Clan

One of my favourite rap artists (and one of the few rappers you can call artists) working today is a gent by the name of Common. When he’s not acting in big budget movies with Jeremy Piven or cutting ads for Coca-Cola, he puts out albums that are consistently terrific. He’s done a lot of what some people call, “conscious hop-hop,” and his lyrics show a lot of intelligence and concern for America’s black community.

A big part of the appeal for me is a lack of bravado, ego, and arrogance in his music (even though most of his material – including his entire last album – is produced by Kanye). One of the standouts on his latest, Finding Forever, features guest vocals from one of this summer’s it-girls (Lily Allen), but what really steals the show is Common’s terrific use of pop-culture references to keep the song light while simultaneously calling out talented rappers who try too hard to be famous.

My favourites? Allusions to Lisa Nowak, the NASA astronaut who drove across the country wearing diapers to confront the woman who was dating a fellow astronaut she was obsessed with, and OKGO’s infamous treadmill video. Enjoy.

 

 Common - Drivin' Me Wild (w/ Lily Allen) [3:43m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Common’s music (including his superior earlier albums) can be found:
iTunes: all over this thing
web store: one of few artists with their own mp3 web store

Pat entries Common, conscious, hip hop, Kanye West, Lily Allen, rap