Britt Daniel, on the rawer new Spoon record, to Spinner (also).

2. “’Virgin mishandled an earlier remaster series,’ says Partridge, ‘and there were all sorts of bad color separations and misspellings and wrong track listings. It was really heartbreaking. They’ve actually fumbled the ball, radically, twice in recent years. During the whole Britpop thing, they didn’t promote our back catalog despite all these bands like Blur, Pulp, and countless others that, to me, were shamelessly attempting to sounds rather like us. Then it came around again a few years later with another wave of bands like Dogs Die in Hot Cars, Hot Hot Heat, Franz Ferdinand, Maxïmo Park, the Futureheads, and Bloc Party. Everybody would come up to me in the street and say, ‘Hey Andy, that band blah blah sounds just like what you did in 1979!’ So Virgin fumbled it yet again, when they should have been promoting our back catalog there.”

Andy Partridge, acerbic as ever, to Wolfgang’s Vault.  A lot of good stuff here for XTC fans. And the good news: XTC reissues soon!  Maybe! (Vinyl plz.)

3. “I have nothing against one person sending a track to another person saying, ‘Hey, check this track out; it’s great!’ That’s like a fan-to-fan thing. But these big websites like Pirate Bay are just another corporation. It’s the future Clear Channel. They have nothing to do with good. They are just evil. It’s the worst. They take our music and put it out for free before we have released it to our record label. There’s no fanfare, there’s nothing, it’s just like ‘Kings of Convenience: Declaration of Dependence. Click Here.’ There’s no sense of jubilation.”

Erlend Øye’s take on filesharing from this Prefixmag interview with Kings of Convenience.

4. “‘From the days when the mathematical and mechanical were paramount in music, the struggle has been bitter and incessant for the sway of the emotional and the soulful,’ he wrote. ‘And now in this the twentieth century come these talking and playing machines and offer again to reduce the expression of music to a mathematical system of megaphones, wheels, cogs, disks, cylinders, and all manner of revolving things which are as like real art as the marble statue of Eve is like her beautiful living breathing daughters.’

John Philip Sousa, railing against those confounded music machines.  Part of a neat little Arstechnica piece about copyright holders’ fears of new technologies. (Further reading: Mark Rose)

XTC “Life Begins at the Hop” (m4v) (right-click and save as)

1. XTC pulled a Beatles (or is it a Steely Dan) and quit touring after Andy Partridge collapsed from exhaustion while on the road in March 1982. They haven’t gone back out since, despite releasing some of the best records of the last 25 years.

2. This show took place in Gaston Hall on the campus of Georgetown University, and the crowd is jumping as ecstatically as if at Brixton. That’s about the only bonus of the camera position at the back of the crowd—seeing the silhouetted heads bobbing.

Talking Heads “Thank You For Sending Me An Angel” (mp3) I always took “you can walk/you can talk/just like me” as the seemingly joyous realization that occurs when your significant other shows him/herself to be your mirror image. What a wallop. (Buy More Songs About Buildings and Food here)

The Zombies “Girl Help Me” (mp3) My all-time Zombies favorite. Rod Argent’s whispered vocals and the heavily echoed chamber-pop arrangement mask the painfully plaintive sentiment of a song that would have sounded great covered by the Four Tops. And the staggered “help…me I” is just overburdened with desire and unfulfilled expectations. (Buy Zombie Heaven here)

Wire “Fragile” (mp3) “You eat my energy/Give me more rope/Nail in the wall/Let me hang my heart” (Buy Pink Flag here)

Super Furry Animals “Fire in My Heart” (mp3) And it hurts like crazy. A consistently rising, rising ode to frustrating impossibility. (Buy Guerrilla here)

Joe Jackson “Happy Loving Couples” (mp3) Mindset for my junior and senior years of college. (Buy Look Sharp! here)

Dusty Springfield “Breakfast In Bed” (mp3) If I try hard enough, I can imagine Chan Marshall singing it to me. (Buy Dusty in Memphis here)

XTC “When You’re Near Me I Have Difficulty” (mp3) No one has ever managed literate jitteriness as well as Andy Partridge. There used to be this remarkably attractive girl (with the best nose-profile I will ever see) I would inexplicably see everywhere I went. She always seemed to be alone, but I never mustered the courage to even walk near her, lest her aroma cause me to stammer uncontrollably. Turns out she was dating a mod guitarist, anyway. (Buy Drums and Wires here)

Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention “I’m Not Satisfied” (mp3) Strategy. Uh huh. (Buy Freak Out here)

The Pharcyde “Otha Fish” (mp3) Mostly, I play this to mute it and give my personal rendition of the third verse, which is gorgeous, eloquent and sad. (Buy Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde here)

The Pop Group “She is Beyond Good and Evil” (mp3) Totally appropriate all the time. (Buy Y here)

Previously: Mink Deville “Let Me Dream if I Want To“

The aforementioned disc (right) and marathonpacks’ rating of same (left).

Here’s the tracklisting:

1. Heard It Through The Grapevine (Marvin Gaye) The Slits from Cut
2. Only Love Can Break Your Heart (Neil Young) St. Etienne from Only Love Can Break Your Heart 12″
3. Warm Leatherette (The Normal) Chicks on Speed from Will Save Us All!
4. China Girl (Iggy Pop/David Bowie) James from Ultra
5. Statue of Liberty (XTC) Joe Jackson from Testimonial Dinner: The Songs of XTC
6. Concrete Jungle (Bob Marley) The Specials from The Specials (verifiable boo-boo; see comments)
7. Soul Kitchen (The Doors) X from Los Angeles
8. What Goes On (The Velvet Underground) The Feelies from Only Life
9. Box Elder (Pavement) The Wedding Present from Bizarro
10. Who Will Be The Next In Line (Kinks) Queens of the Stone Age from This Is Where I Belong (Songs Of Ray Davies)
11. Little Honda (Beach Boys) Yo La Tengo from I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One
12. (Love Is Like A) Heat Wave (Martha and the Vandellas) The Jam from Setting Sons
13. Know Your Onion (The Shins) Of Montreal from ofmontreal.net
14. At The Chime of a City Clock (Nick Drake) The High Llamas from Hawaii
15. It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue (Bob Dylan) Marianne Faithfull from Rich Kid Blues
16. Uptown Top Ranking (Althea and Donna) Scout Niblett from Uptown Top Ranking EP
17. Miss You (Rolling Stones) The Concretes from Layyourbattleaxedown
18. Sing This All Together (Rolling Stones) Cibo Matto from Sugar Water EP
19. Directly From My Heart To You (Little Richard) Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention from Weasels Ripped My Flesh!
20. Pictures of Matchstick Men (Status Quo) Camper Van Beethoven from Key Lime Pie
21. Effigy (Credence Clearwater Revival) Uncle Tupelo from 89/93: An Anthology

Buy Rag & Bone Buffet here. Musician magazine said of it: “…the tunes these guys throw away are worth more than some bands’ careers“, to which Andy Partridge said: “Frankly, this album has some of the best work we’ve ever done. And some of the worst.”

20. Mos Def-Black on Both Sides (Rawkus, 1999)

The last two installments of this list will draw heavily upon my 90s fondness for what I saw as “forward-thinking, progressive”hip-hop. Mos Def is a great place to start, as his entire raison d’etre is founded upon a distinct, well-elaborated love for the art form’s poetry and musicality, as well as a sense of responsibility and truthfulness, represented both within and as a product of his music. The best songs on Black on Both Sides utilize to the highest degree Mos’ penchant for innovative, intelligent wordplay, to great effect on “Speed Laws”: “My joint’s so passionate/Make you peal out and mash your shit/Get wild cold crash your whip/Front chassis wrecked, but ock you can’t be too upset/Tow truck got my tape in the deck.” It’s hard to top, however, the stunning “New World Water,” which incorporates a sliver of Handel’s “Water Music” played on xylophone behind lyrics like: “There are places where TB is common as TV/Cause foreign-based companies go and get greedy/The type of cats who pollute the whole shore line/Have it purified, sell it for a dollar twenty-five.” This is intelligent, socially conscious hip-hop at its finest, a worthy heir to the legacy of Gil Scott-Heron and The Last Poets.

19. XTC-Nonsuch (Geffen, 1992)

The Beatle-esque duo of Skylarking and Oranges & Lemons had set the bar high for XTC, and they set out to top it on Nonsuch, perhaps their most ambitious effort to date in a career filled with highpoints. The record continues Partridge and Moulding’s tendency toward political fable, with the singalong “The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead” proving an omen for the American President elected that same year. The usually reliable Colin Moulding slips a little this time out, with neither “My Bird Performs” “The Smartest Monkeys” or “War Dance” rising too far above their metaphoric origins. But, more often than not, Nonsuch is XTC at their elegant, ornate best, especially on “Wrapped in Grey,” “Humble Daisy,” “Books are Burning,” and the masterpiece “The Disappointed,” which, along with “Dear Madam Barnum” continues Andy Partridge’s tendency toward arch self-flagellation. Partridge gets downright nasty, though, on “Ugly Underneath” and the irresistable “Crocodile,” however, evidence of Nonsuch as a tour de force of emotional and musical variety.

18. Souls of Mischief-‘93 Til Infinity (Jive, 1993)

If you would have asked me at any point during the 90s, I would have told you that this album should have been the future of hip-hop (right? Now, I’m not as sure). Souls of Mischief, along with Del the Funkee Homosapien, one-hit wonder Domino (”Ghetto Jam”) and Casual, among others, comprised the Bay-Area based collective known as Hieroglyphics. Founded by Del around the time of the release of his batty P-Funk copping debut I Wish My Brother George Was Here, the group’s most accomplished members were all in Souls of Mischief: MCs A-Plus, Phesto, Opio and Tajai. The group’s name is well-chosen–they deftly expose the roots of their shenanigans through bright, clever wordplay and well-sketched cautionary tales of youthful irresponsibility, underscored by a dark, rhythmic, jazz-laced backdrop. ‘93 Til Infinity is not only one of rap’s most overlooked records, but one of the best and most assured debuts from the past 20 years, finding regional contemporaries in The Pharcyde and Freestyle Fellowship, and pre-dating the like-minded (and truthfully, inferior) Quannum collective. Title cut “93 Til Infinity” effortlessly wades through a haze of blunt smoke and one of the smoothest, most unobtrusive basslines in memory: “Greenbacks in stacks, don’t even ask/Who got the fat sacks we can max pumpin fat tracks/Exchangin’ facts about impacts, cause in facts/My freestyle talent overpowers brothers can’t hack.. it/They lack wit; we got the mack shit/93 ‘Til Infinity – kill all that wack shit.” Not so much socially conscious as intellectually curious, Phesto’s rhyme on “Live and Let Live” is a good example of their conflicted M.O.:

17. The Roots-Things Fall Apart (MCA, 1999)

Without a doubt, Things Fall Apart is the Roots’ magnum opus, a sprawling set of diverse songs unified by stellar craftsmanship. Core members Questlove and Black Thought seem to share a brain, with the former’s skittering, jazz-influenced percussion style working synergistically with the latter’s brilliantly sharp and impeccably delivered poetry. Previous albums Organix and Do You Want More!? had employed live instrumentation well, but it often cast a shadow over the whole, a tendency that began to recede on Illadelph Halflife, and achieved full integration with more esoteric elements here. Remnants of the old style still color Things Fall Apart, notably on “The Next Movement” and “Without a Doubt,” but are balanced by the unceasing, pounding, “100% Dundee” and album standouts “Double Trouble,” a lyrical ping-pong and ode to hip-hop between Black Thought and Mos Def, and “Adrenaline,” which features a stellar guest verse by then-unknown Philly rapper Beanie Siegel.

16. Pixies-Trompe le Monde (4AD/Elektra, 1991)

The Pixies experienced a similar career trajectory to that of Pavement–two bands that, over the course of five albums, progressed from a primitive post-punk sound to a refined, quirky classic pop vibe, along the way becoming two of the three (with Nirvana) most influential post-R.E.M. rock groups. And, along the lines of this massive, simplistic over-generalization, Trompe le Monde was the Pixies’ Terror Twilight–the album-long realization that the established leader of each group was indeed a short-timer. Trompe le Monde, as has been well-documented, was essentially the first Frank Black album, mirroring his eponymous solo debut to be issued two years later. Prior Pixies effort Bossanova was an awkward transition for the band, serving as a vehicle to expunge all of then-Black Francis’ California dreams to mixed results. Trompe le Monde, on the other hand, went extra-terrestrial, featuring four songs explicitly referencing space or those who would visit here from there–the best ones, “Motorway to Roswell” and “Planet of Sound” as good as anything the band had yet done. “U-Mass” and “Subbacultcha” are two digs at cultural and intellectual pretension, and serve as final reminders of how hard the band could still rock, and highlight “Alec Eiffel” is a synth-driven tribute to “aero-dynamic” structural innovation–the tower itself is even reconfigured as a rocketship in the liner notes.

15. Cracker-Kerosene Hat (Virgin, 1993)

Sequenced on alternative radio in the early Nineties, Kerosene Hat appealed to me mostly because, in a strange way, it sounded so much more mature than everything else I was hearing at the time. David Lowery had been prolifically touring and recording since the early 80’s, but it was here where he dispensed with his Camper Van Beethoven eccentricities, taking a more nuanced and traditional path, one that refigured his unique sense of humor into a series of quirky folktales. Lead single “Low” is a brooding, dynamic, quasi-country lament with the collective youth consciousness hypodermic chorus. The up-tempo songs were the best that the band had done, and probably will ever release–second single “Get Off This” was a cranky, rollicking followup to the previous album’s “Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now), and “Movie Star” was a darkly comic ode to, I’ve always assumed, Jayne Mansfield. The album is probably most famous, however, for a song that didn’t even appear on the liner notes–hidden track “Euro-Trash Girl,” which, with the lyrical detail and vocal insouciance of Kinky Friedman or Loudon Wainwright III, sketches a post-collegiate hostel-hop across the continent. The best of this stellar record, of Lowery’s career, and one of my all-time, all-around favorite songs, though, is the timeless, humble “Nostalgia”:

14. Belle and Sebastian-If You’re Feeling Sinister (Enclave, 1997)

My personal definition of the slippery term “indie pop” preferences the ideological a slight bit over the strictly commericial. In other words, while I understand that being “independent” by today’s definition equates to a different, if not explicitly limited access to the “mainstream” because of money, I prefer to approach the term as one that refers to the presence of, rather than lack of opportunity. Not being bound to corporate interests frees musicians to pursue the traditional popular musical idiom in the manner of their choice, without being overly concerned with current trends, and relying mostly on their comparatively small but devoted legions of fans to support it. Belle and Sebastian is the preeminent example of a band that has taken this ideal to heart, and created some marvelous music as a result. They took the opportunity on Sinister to pen songs in a manner (soft, lightly melodic, literate, fey) almost completely counter to the prevailing trends of the major selling artists of the time.  This is magnificent, stately pop music that would never come close to denting the charts, especially stateside, which lent it an added air of exclusivity and integrity. Sinister is a perfect, exquisitely crafted pop record, and easily the band’s most consistent–never coming close to exceeding a thin dynamic range that lends the songs, especially “Seeing Other People,” the title track and “Dylan in the Movies” a delicate intimacy unmatched in their, or most others’ catalogs. It’s the equivalent of an entire album consisting of The Zombies “I Want Her She Wants Me,” Simon and Garfunkels’ “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme,” Nick Drake’s “Things Behind the Sun,” and the Left Banke’s “Pretty Ballerina.”
13. Beck-Odelay (DGC, 1996)
On the strength of the destined-to-be-a-one-hit-wonder single “Loser,” I saw a young, goofy Beck in concert in 1994—at one point, he picked up a Subway restaurant cap someone had thrown on stage and launched into an ad-hoc rap that went something like “I’m the Subway pimp,” accompanied (naturally) by well-executed robot moves. We laughed, as did most others present, but were simultaneously transfixed with the earnestness with which he perfomed this street corner song-and-dance. And that’s the best thing about Beck. He transcends the blatant irony of his music, most effectively on Odelay, by executing it with a deadpan seriousness, forcing even the most cynical listeners to look past the arcane references and at the album as a sincere (and hypermodern) confluence of folk, country, blues, lounge, funk, hip-hop and “outsider” musics, and one that, not surprisingly, appealed directly to the first generation of listeners that could understand it.

12. Guided by Voices-Alien Lanes (Matador, 1995)

The second to last time I saw Guided by Voices in concert was an interesting one to get through–Robert Pollard was much, much drunker than usual, and went off on extended rants on the relative quality of neophytes Spoon and The Strokes for minutes at a time, driving all but the truly dedicated, sweaty fans home. A hundred or so of us were left, however, and we coalesced around the stage, jumping and pumping our fists to lead Alien Lanes track “A Salty Salute.” Two songs later came the ultimate Guided by Voices anthem, “Game of Pricks,” a stinging divorce-themed kiss-off that lasts less than two minutes but packs more punch than most bands’ careers. Pollard recognized the ecstasy running through the crowd, and after a “1,2,3,4!”, they launched into the song, again. It was easily one of the greatest concert moments I’ve ever experienced, and incontrovertible evidence (as I’m sure David from largeheartedboy.com will attest) that Pollard, more than any other songwriter of his generation, reveled in the power of great rock and roll to eclipse all rationality, allowing a man in his late forties to execute high leg kicks, ramble drunkenly and play songs twice in a row, only to the rapture of his audience. Alien Lanes is GBV’s best album, chopping up even the excruciatingly brief pop wonders of Bee Thousand into tiny anthems that represent the essence of rocl music–loudly-yelled anthems (”Motor Away,” “Watch Me Jumpstart”) brief moments of inspiration that dissolve as quickly as they’re created (”They’re Not Witches,” “Evil Speakers,” “Pimple Zoo,” “Gold Kick”) and wonderous pop gems distilled to leave only the best parts (”As We Go Up, We Go Down,” “The Closer You Are,” “My Valuable Hunting Knife,” “Blimps Go 90″). There are 28 tracks on Alien Lanes, and not a wasted second.

11. Radiohead-The Bends (Capitol, 1995)

I am of the broadly applied opinion, offered loudly when drunk, that the multi-multi-platinum selling strand of softened, adult British pop music beginning with Travis and continuing through Coldplay would not exist, for better or worse (okay, for worse) without The Bends. But we can’t blame a band for what came after them, can we? No, unless we want to blame the Beatles for The Moody Blues and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. No, influence can be a tricky thing, but the mark that this album left on bands who followed it is mind-blowing. A remarkable leap in quality and clarity from Pablo Honey, The Bends is a model of consistency from beginning to end, variously reveling in the guitar bombast of the title track and “Just,” then creating three of the best ballads of the decade, “Fake Plastic Trees,” “Street Spirit,” and “High and Dry,” maximizing the affective qualities of Thom Yorke’s elastic voice, to later be blatantly copied to diminishing returns by a legion of followers. They supposedly released another album or two after this, but to little critical acclaim.