Yes, that’s right dear reader: such was the overwhelming amount of top music this year we’ve given our end-of-year list a dose of max enlargement pills and extended it to a mighty top twenty.
Those that didn’t make this engorged run-down and hence reside in our honourable bubbling under category include: Swans – The Seer; Toy – Toy; Monolake – Ghosts; White Manna – White Manna; Easter – Innocence Man; Bass Clef – Reeling Skullways; Umberto – Night Has A Thousand Screams; The Eccentronic Research Council – 1612 Underture; and Mouse on Mars – Parastrophics.
A special mention goes to British Sea Power’s EPs 1-6. Well it wouldn’t be one of our lists without them, would it? If we could have counted these as one album it would have made the top five. Obviously.
So here it is, Merry Listmas. Everybody’s having fun (somewhere else).
20. Eat Light Become Lights – Heavy Electrics
19. Alexander Tucker – Third Mouth
18. White Hills – Frying On This Rock
17. Fanfarlo – Rooms Filled With Light
16. Wishmountain – Tesco
15. Drokk – Music Inspired by Mega-City One
14. Mugstar – Axis
13. Fighting Kites – Fighting Kites
12. Belbury Poly – The Belbury Tales
11. Euros Childs – Summer Special
10. Egyptology – The Skies
This analogue symphony had us frothing on about ancient astronauts and the geomancy of Giza back in July. It’s still taking us somewhere weird and wonderful. The best of the seemingly never-ending fascination with old synths and arpeggiators that pervades the world of electronica. Long may this fascination continue.
9. Deerhoof – Breakup Song
All over the shop, but in a good way, Deerhoof’s Breakup Song threw all kinds of idea together to make another off-kilter pop hit. Needs to be played loud.
8. Godspeed You! Black Emperor – ‘Allelujah! Don’t Bend! Ascend!
It came from nowhere, and nowhere on BBO will you find the review this album richly deserves. Yet it does exactly what you want a Godspeed! album to do, and then some. Colossal drones, magisterial builds and releases, and immense noise, all suffused with a politics for those that know.
7. Bill Fay – Life is People
Two astonishing albums at the start of the 1970s and then another one in 2012. The voice is warmer, but even more haunted, and Fay’s conviction still burns through as clearly as it ever has: “I personally need to believe that this world just can’t go on and on and on in the way that it goes.”
‘Be At Peace With Yourself’:
6. Beak > – >>
A marvellous pulsing head throb of analog musings and music from this threesome. Retro-futurism might not be a thing, but this sounds so extra-temporal we can’t help looking at the future through the past (and often vice-versa). If we had a record label of the year award it would probably go to Invada Records as well.
‘Mono’ (Ok, not technically on the album, but it’s a cracker):
5. Fang Island – Major
Like a cheeky-monkey off its bits on riffs. With shit-eating gurns and post-ironic chest bumps all round, Major is always there for the dark days and the light days. Simply…YES!
4. Plank! – Animalism
Owls and pigs. Owls, pigs and fighting ferrets. Animalism is nothing short of an extraordinary debut of Neu-proggish grooves and looped noodling and funk. Looked into the Owl’s eyes and agree. You now agree.
‘Dying for Pigs’:
‘King Rat I, II, III’:
3. Sweet Billy Pilgrim – Crown and Treaty
Prog, pop, country – Sweet Billy Pilgrim will do you an album containing all of those elements, and live they’ll throw in an a cappella version of ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ just to keep you guessing. Crown and Treaty is the sound of a great, genuinely original, band still discovering what they’re capable of.
2. Bob Mould – Silver Age
Ignore those people who tell you this is a ‘return to form’ – the amazing thing about Bob Mould is not that he’s produced an album reminiscent of the best of the Sugar records, but that he’s been writing songs this good since the early 1980s.
1. Goat – World Music
The hype realised for once. An album that possesses you. We called it a transnational psyche agenda for the weird underground and we stand by these words. Syncretic brilliance. Stunning.
Det Som Aldrig Förändras/Diarabi:
A massive thanks to everyone who has supported us, read these ramblings and listened to anything we’ve recommended this year. You probably will never know how much we appreciate it.
jkneale and angrybonbon
[All of these lovely records are available from shops – independent ones, big shiny ones, online ones (who pay their tax), ones where there isn’t really a shop but you have to email some bloke. We like buying records – actually, we really do. And we think you should too, so if you like any of this and haven’t already bought them, go on! They’ll be cheap by now]
In a moment of synchronicity unknown for this blog we scheduled this post on the day Matthew Herbert, aka Wishmountain, gets announced as creative director of the revived BBC Radiophonic Workshop. There’s a first for us.
Herbert, if you don’t know, is of One Pig infamy that sampled and recorded the life cycle – birth to death to plate – of a porker. This time round he has taken his sound devices to the stuffed shelves and racks of the supermarket and all the sundry delights they offer, and delivers a lesson in found-sounds as dissected domestication.
Herbert transforms a series of mundane objects of our daily consumption into a brilliant rhythmic techno throb. Part of the pleasure here lies in inquiring into how, at any given moment, the bits and blobs of sound match or bare similarity to their source. With an eye on under rather over-processing the sounds, so that the remnants of hiss from the capturing process remain, you’re made to guess at how has a slice of bread, a piece of bog-roll, a crisp or a cube of chocolate been manipulated to become a sound or a beat.
Of course, you have the titles of the tracks to guide you, but that doesn’t exhaust the detective work you can do as a listener, if you’re so inclined. And this is not a simple artful exercise is making the ordinary into the extraordinary; the efforts at bricolage here are ambiguous. So is this an attempt to enliven the banal stuff of our lives as wondrous? Or is this dissent at mass consumption, the homogenising forces of consumer lifestyles and their attendant pleasures and pitfalls? Or, again, is it a joyous and knowing celebration of branding that seeks to undermine the middle class fascination with the artisan and the heritage?
Left open for your response, whatever the politics of Tesco it sounds amazing: kid’s drinks are made to hum like hyperactive pan pipes (‘Fruit Shoot’); branded coffee is bubbled into a funk (‘Nescafé’); energy drinks are detuned and pulsated (‘Lucozade’); bread and its wrapping is made to sigh, gyrate and zap in a manner that lays bare its industrial production (‘Kingsmill Hovis and Warburton’); and the shopping list goes on…
You need to buy this album if, as I suspect, this is a deconstruction of the smug ubiquity of corporatism. After all in the fight against such behemoths every little helps.