Reverberations' Picks for Best of 2014, Blurt magazine and Blurt online

Well, well, well - It's been a long time. Maybe someday we'll talk about the reasons for the hiatus.
Or not.

Anyway, I did get off the couch long enough to muster up a top 10 for my friend Fred Mills at Blurt to kiss 2014 goodbye. A link to my list, and everyone else's, is immediately below.

http://blurtonline.com/feature/revenge-writers-blurts-best-worst-2014/

And further below that is my part of the "Writer's Revenge" feature excerpted for your quick digestion.

These are all good records. I don't regret my choices. But I probably do regret not including some other titles, chiefly the Reigning Sound's Shattered. I love that band. It's a great record. I was clearly in a fog.

*****************************************

STEVE WILSON

2014 Albums

Benjamin Booker – s/t (ATO) Reverend Gary Davis and the Velvet Underground not only co-exist, they jam in Booker’s music. The production is field song-punk verite, all rock salt and grime. The songs are sturdy and roiling from the soul. – Booker’s guitar a punk-metallic force, his vocals like Ted Hawkins singing with the Pixies.

Sloan – Commonwealth (Yep Roc) Their eleventh album finds the Canadian quartet giving a “side” to each of the four musicians. While their individual proclivities and qualities emerge, it’s clearly Sloan – the best pop band in the world (since Super Furry Animals, who contested the crown, are no more).

Vashti Bunyan – Heartleap (Fat Cat) It took her 35 years to record a sophomore album, after releasing the (eventually) influential sleeperAnother Diamond Day; Lookaftering was a lovely song suite with gorgeous arrangements from composer Max Richter. Heartleap follows Lookafteringby a mere nine years. A self-produced affair, recorded privately and quietly for private, quiet listening.

Felice Brothers – Favorite Waitress (Dualtone) The studious, earnest “New Basement Tapes” have their moments, but the Felices are closer to the loose, ragged spirit of the original “Basement Tapes,” and a lot more fun.

Ex-hex – Rips (Merge) From Helium’s density, to Wild Flag’s super-woman jam rock to this – Mary Timony’s new band delivers a straight up pop-punk album. Just when Timony’s vocals start to sound a little too Smith College she flashes signs of Patti Smith inspiration, and her Thunders-esque guitar, plus the drumming of Laura Harris, keeps the music rocking.

Parquet Courts – Sunbathing Animal (What’s Your Rupture) Pavement – blah, blah, blah. But Parquet Courts reflect the Monochrome Set, Richard Hell, and the Embarrassment, too. On this, their deepest and rangiest album, Parquet Courts rock dirtier, harder and more driven than Malkmus and company ever did.

Lykke Li – I Never Learn (LL/Atlantic) Lykke Li follows her breakthrough,Wounded Rhymes, with a record, despite a few pop moments, that is a slower, darker and more exposed set of songs. Like some Piaf for a new age, her songs of heartbreak and defiance thrill and charm.

Ty Segall – Manipulator (Drag City) Ty Segall, a modern garage-pop Bach, is often too prolific for his own good. Manipulator, though, hits (mostly) on all cylinders and reveals many layers of the artist’s talents. Just enough hooks, just enough irreverent smack.

War on Drugs – Lost in the Dream (Secretly Canadian) Before I got lazy and preoccupied with life I wrote this for Blurt (but now I’m back!):http://blurtonline.com/review/war-drugs-lost-dream/

Real Kids – Shake … Outta Control (Ace of Hearts) It’s an admittedly sentimental pick. A little jerry-built, all studs showing – it won’t make anyone forget their iconic debut from 1977. But as his work with the Devotions demonstrated, Shake proves that John Felice is still rocking.

Archival/Reissues

 Velvet Underground – s/t 45th Anniversary Deluxe edition. (Polydor) The Val Valentin mix, the mono mix, the “Closet Mix” (Lou’s vocals forward, instruments panned hard right and left) – all gathered together in one place. The quality of the two-discs of live material from the Matrix in San Francisco is remarkable; and so is the playing – loose, spirited, Lou and Sterling in guitar hero mode.

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Ran Blake - Plays Solo Piano (ESP-disk) - courtesy of blurtonline.com

The linked review is of Plays Solo Piano, the 1965 solo debut of the remarkable jazz pianist Ran Blake.

Fred, my editor, gave me the green light. The nice folks at ESP Records sent me the disc. I listened, enjoyed, ruminated, and then wrote. I've long been a fan of Ran Blake, and it gives me great pleasure to promote his music. Here's the link:

http://blurtonline.com/feature/man-keys-ran-blake/





The video below is not from Plays Solo Piano, but it gives you a taste of Blake's singular work.

Excavations/Magnetic Fields - Realism (Nonesuch)

EXCAVATIONS*

Magnetic Fields – Realism (Nonesuch)
By my count, “Realism” is the ninth record from the Magnetic Fields, an ensemble that’s essentially a vehicle for the songwriter Stephin Merritt. Merritt is a busy guy, sitting around in gay bars writing songs all day. Hey, that’s what he says. He sure is prolific. Between Magnetic Fields, The Gothic Archies, the 6ths, and Future Bible Heroes, heck, he barely has time to eat, although he is fond of Scandinavian dairy products. But I digress.

Glad to be unhappy (Rodgers-Hart reference – Merritt would like that), Mr. Merritt lives in a world of melody and wit. And by golly if you relish such qualities Magnetic Fields is for you. Having made his masterpiece, the sprawling “69 Love Songs” in 1999, Merritt amuses himself with varying the sonic textures of his work — he's completely abandoned the synth-pop that established his work. The Magnetic Fields' last record, “Distortion,” lived up to its name, avowedly something of a tribute to the Jesus and Mary Chain (although Merritt is capable of the glibly facetious), the song craft was still pure Merritt. “Realism” dials back the decibels, eschewing electric instrumentation almost entirely and employing diverse instrumentation (how about flugelhorn, Cajon, accordion, banjo, etc.) well beyond the usual folkie palette. Both, the volume dial-back and the acoustic instrumentation are perfect for these hurt, bitter, but oddly blithe songs.

One could spend the day quoting from Merritt’s dour, witty songs. I shan’t. Vaguely comparable: Stuart Murdoch’s writing for Belle & Sebastian and God Help the Girl, although Murdoch is a sad humanist and Merritt is a borderline misanthrope — albeit a lovable one. Neil Hannon’s work with the Divine Comedy has a kinship with Merritt’s, but Hannon is a morally ambivalent European flatterer while Merritt is something of a New England scold for all his love of personal liberty. What else can you call the author of a jolly, but scathing putdown like “You Must Be Out of Your Mind?” It’s hard to imagine any other contemporary songwriter producing a Rudy Valli-like, Twenties homage/parody with the nod and a wink ambivalence of “Seduced and Abandoned” — Randy Newman, maybe?

Finally, Stephin Merritt is a post-rock Stephen Sondheim in search of a new Broadway, perhaps a Broadway for smarter people, indeed smarter people than those who typically support Broadway. Such is his dilemma. He’s too blisteringly direct for polite set. And he’s too literate for ninety-percent of, well, college rockers. The gentleman sure has a way with words and tunes, though, and a lovely, refined recital like “Realism” makes a fine case for his art.

* EXCAVATIONS = I've written forever. Well before Reverberations entered the blogosphere. WithEXCAVATIONS, we'll occasionally feature some of my work from the vaults. Some pieces will be dashed off reviews for use at Kief's Downtown Music, others will have been from periodicals like the Kansas City Star, The Tornado, The Kansas City Free Press, or others. The intent? It's simple, to give Reverberations readers a look at some older writings, and to plug some records that still sound fine to these ears.

Liminanas - Costa Blanca (Trouble in Mind Records) - courtesy of blurtonline.com

Newly posted at blurtonline.com, my review of Costa Blanca by the Liminanas.

Go here: http://blurtonline.com/review/liminanas-costa-blanca/ ; won't you?

Previously, I reviewed their Crystal Anis album.


In fact, Crystal Anis was my No. 9 album of 2012.
Okay, let me tell you, Costa Blanca is no less of a record. And no, it didn't make my top 10 this year, because I digested it a bit late for inclusion. But top 10, 20, 50 lists are, you know, an imprecise science, more like a dubious art. Some might say bullshit.



What matters is the music, and the joy it brings.

So (en)joy this while you read the review at blurtonline.com

Ezra Furman - Day of the Dog (Bar None Records) - courtesy of Paraphilia Magazine

Hello!

Freshly posted with Paraphilia (a fantastic read all-around) is this ...

http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/periodical/ezra-furman-day-of-the-dog/.

My review of the latest recording from rocker, singer-songwriter Ezra Furman. 

The album is called Day of the Dog, and it's quite good. Mind, a tolerance for shaggy-dog, occasionally pitch-challenged singers is required, but the material is great and I, for one, dig the singing. Terrific band, too. But hey ... read the review. 

And while you're reading, listen to some music by Mr. Furman and company. 

Crossing Boundaries: Those Darlins ... courtesy of Blurt Magazine and blurtonline.com

Blurt has published, both online and on paper, my feature/interview with Those Darlins. You can read it here:

http://blurtonline.com/feature/crossing-boundaries-darlins/

Jessi warmed up to this interviewer as soon as I helped her identify some albums she was making reference to, like Patti Smith's "Wave." That's how this game works. Mostly artists talk to the naive or idiotic. Prove you're neither, they warm up some.

Barrence Whitfield and the Savages - Dig Thy Savage Soul (Bloodshot) ... courtesy blurtonline. com

My editor Fred just added this review to blurtonline.com. Isn't that special?

Barrence gets it. I got it. You can read about it.

Then check out the music and rock out. Enjoy!

Look/Mira! Here's the LINK:

http://blurtonline.com/review/barrence-whitfield-savages-dig-thy-savage-soul/







  AND HEAR THIS ...

Memento Mori, Lewis Allan Reed, entry no. 2

At last write I recalled my attachment to “I’m Set Free,” a track by Lou Reed on the third Velvet Underground (s/t) album.I failed to mention the guitar solo. It too arrested me, with its beautifully, pitch-warped authority.  

So noted.

Gradually, the whole album sunk in. ‘Murder Mystery’ baffled and amused me. "Pale Blue Eyes" a revelation. "Story of my Life,"  glowed with bittersweet acceptance. Each song an unraveling. “Beginning to See the Light” especially grabbed me … “I met myself in a dream, and I just wanna tell you everything was alright.” The conversational, grace note quality of his phrasing, cramming words while maintaining the tune, struck me. Little did I know then that this would be a set closer for a band I helped conjure a few years hence called Thumbs.
pictured: The Sunshine Company (ha, ha!)

Here, we dive into personal revelation and exposition, perhaps of no interest to someone who just wants to hear about Lou Reed. But it will be in the nature of these posts to move back and forth between worship and wreckage, reverie to reevaluation, the focus shifting from Lou, to me, to the culture in which we both endured. 

By my senior year in high school I was differentiating myself. I was the kind of kid who befriended anyone who was welcoming, smart and/or funny. I didn’t care what tribe you came from, what race you were, nothing of the kind. But in 1969 the ‘respectable’ kids and jocks would ostracize you if you started befriending ‘freaks.’ At first I was just dumbfounded, nonplussed by such bullshit. Then it made me mad. As much as I enjoyed my freak friends I wasn’t interested in signing any contracts. But damned if the straights kids’ intolerance didn’t make my decisions for me. Make me a freak – fuck you, I'll be a freak. But like the Velvets, a band that never fit into the hippie paradigm, and abhorred the West Coast acidsunshinedayglohappyfreakout, I felt like I came from an earlier bohemian world, looking askance at the kids frolicking in the aquarian expectation - loving them, and shaking my head. 

Then there was this girl. It’s a long story, but here’s the short version. After being stymied by shyness and doubt for years, I finally found a girl I wanted to date in my senior year of high school - enough to actually ASK her. I fell in love; I think she loved me too, but I know she wasn’t as consumed as I was. Anyway, she goes away to college while I stay in Lawrence at KU (like I had the money to imagine otherwise). Our love begins in winter, grows through spring and summer, endures for the better part of a long distance fall semester, then she dumps me and breaks my heart.

Who knows, maybe I had it coming. Who was that guy? I look back on him with recognition and incomprehension, affection and bewilderment. Is that how memory lives, works?

I had never been a drinker in high school. A beer or two once in a while. I might have gotten drunk once or twice. We’ll skirt the subject of my emerging drug history, but let’s just say that as the dejected lover I plunged into a brave new world of cheap wine. An immersion it takes a lifetime to assimilate, to make peace with, or eliminate and move on. 

Sometimes I try to remember those days, idle afternoons with friends, hard work in stainless steel kitchens, bit and pieces of something called college, playing in my first band (Eddie Haskell) second floor apartments, bad jug wine, early morning hangover breakfasts, characters on the street, falling asleep on the stairs.

Three records were the soundtrack for my freshman year, second semester, into the summer and well ... since. One had been out for a full year, the early 1970 release of The MC5’s Back in the USA. It was joined by February 1971’s Love it to Death Alice Cooper, and November 1970’s Loaded by the Velvet Underground. And it was Loaded that I played more than any record for the next year or so. 

Compared to White Light White Heat it was pop, fuck  - by comparison to WLWH it was country-rock. A failed attempt at making the Velvet's palatable to radio and wider audience, it was also a beautiful, melancholy capstone to a great band's career. Lou Reed and company had made the Manhattan equivalent of a Beach Boys record with Loaded. “Who Loves the Sun," a pop hit in an alternate universe, with its Randy Newman-like mix of lyrical lamentation and sunny sound kicks the album off. Doug Yule is the singer, as he is on three other of the album's ten tunes. And those performances are part of the beloved fabric of Loaded. Although, guitarist Sterling Morrison contended it would be a better record with Lou's lead vocals throughout. The original sleeve distributes songwriting credits to the band, since corrected - however much Yule contributed, these are unmistakably Lou's writing. 

And the first time I heard “Sweet Jane” I didn’t know it would be the one song that traveled with me everywhere. I have sung it so many times with bands, and heard so many other versions of it that it has attained the elastic status of a standard. But when I go back to the original performance I am struck by the in the pocket ease of the band, the relaxation of the performance.

These albums (with bit of Plastic Ono Band and in April '71, Sticky Fingers), especially Loaded, were part of the after school, between school and work, downtime hanging with friends - soundtrack of eighteen and nineteen. We thought we were clever to figure out the ambiguous mix of doo-wop homage and parody in a line like, ‘as I walk down life’s lonely highways, hand in hand with myself,” from “I Found a Reason.” And “Rock and Roll” suited my emerging sense of self. Faced with the draft, the vagaries of picking a career (“then they expect you to pick a career” – “Working Class Hero,” John Lennon), and living hand to mouth, I was already finding a sustenance, resonance and home in the music that I wasn’t finding anywhere else. And that's why Reverberations borrows from Lou for its credo (i.e. "My life was saved by rock 'n' roll").

Of course all this time I was doubling back to the first album, Velvet Underground and Nico, which by this time sounded both dangerous and familiar, not yet realizing that for me, like hundreds of young musicians, an entire sensibility, a musical template was being established.

But more about that as we move along.

So thank you Lou (Mo, Sterling, Doug ...Adrian, Geoff, Billy).  For spring afternoons. nights of cheap wine discoveries, good friends, bonding over outsider blues. Oh, and of course for helping chart part of my own musical course.  We have many more stories to tell, and shall.

... part II evokes fond memories of Karl, Doug, Jane, Randy, Rick, Rick, Becky, Hector, Mary, Charla, Kevin, Kevin, Stuart, and so many ...

Memento Mori, Lewis Allan Reed, entry no. 1

It was at a high school basketball game of all things.

The day I first laid eyes on the ‘peel slowly and see’ banana cover, designed by Andy Warhol, of the first Velvet Underground album. 

An acquaintance was roaming the balcony of the Lawrence High School gymnasium, pausing occasionally to show his new acquisition to anyone who might be impressed.

This is real time, folks – mid-march, 1967. I was fourteen years of age.

This may sound strange. But I well remember walking the streets of downtown Lawrence with “Are You Experienced” under my arm, recently released, newly purchased, enjoying the commentary of friends and acquaintances who stopped me and asked me about this new artist and phenomenon named Jimi Hendrix. There was no world wide web, only a handful of rock magazines and underground newspapers spreading this subterranean culture to a few of us with our ear to the ground.

This acquaintance later become a friend. Then he was a year or so older. That’s a big deal when you’re fourteen.

He explained the whole drugs, whips, furs, demi-monde exceptional-ism of this new band, a teenage wasteland attempt to provide context.

I filed the information away, curious but anxious.

I heard White Light, White Heat somewhere, some other avant-friend's house. "Sister Ray" freaked me out to tell you the truth. Intrigued, unsettled by what I heard; I was fifteen.

Then I saw the third album, the self-titled record, in the bins of a local record shop. I couldn’t leave the store without it for some reason. That shop is long gone. But that music plays so very often, not just from my computer, stereo and car speakers, but also in the jukebox of my mind.

The first song that sunk in was “I’m Set Free.” The jangle reminded me of the Byrds. The lyrics were a quiet rapture and revelation. The chorus was rousing and dour. And in summation: “I’m set free to find a new illusion.” Words that would raise my spirits and trigger some sadly absurd sense of life’s cycles and shortages … over and over again.

1st in a series of Lewis Allan Reed memories and rhapsodies. 

Big Dipper, as featured in Paraphilia Magazine. Review of "Crashes on the Platinum Planet."

I am most fortunate to have crossed paths with Dire McCain and the pioneering crew at Paraphilia magazine. Two of my reviews are included in the launch of their new format, which begins with this new issue of Paraphilia. This is the start of what I think should be a long, fruitful association.

The link here is to my review of the new release by Big Dipper, Crashes on the Platinum Planet.

http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/periodical/big-dipper-crashes-on-the-platinum-planet/

Tyvek - On Triple Beams (In the Red) Visit blurt-online.com for a new review

 Hello, Reverberations readers, your humble scribe is branching out some and contributing to various and sundry reputable journals. One such is Blurt. Blurt is both online and on your newsstands. This is a review just posted online with Blurt. The generous editor, Mr. Fred Mills, is cool with linking from Reverberations.  Everyone wins.

This review is of Tyvek's On Triple Beams on the In the Red label

 From here we direct you to the estimable Blurt:

http://blurt-online.com/reviews/view/4327/

Top Ten Countdown Continues with No. 9, The Liminanas - Crystal Anis (Hozac Records)

In previous years Reverberations conducted a marathon, day by day, countdown of the top 25 albums from the waning year. This year, between today and the end of the month, we will take a bit less ambitious approach, chronicling only the top 10 releases of 2012.  In January, in addition to reviews of brand spanking new music, we will also make occasion to reflect on some of the year's other fine recordings. 

For our top 10 countdown, many of these selections will have been covered previously in Reverberations, in which event we will simply link you to the earlier review. A few of these, however, will require new reviews. 

At No. 9 ... an earlier posted review of the Liminanas "Crystal Anis:"

Liminanas - Crystal Anis (Hozac)

French pop marvels, the Liminanas, hail not from Paris, but from a town called Perpignan, nestled between the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean (also home to the also awesome Sonic Chicken 4).

The Liminanas self-titled debut, released in the States on Chicago’s Trouble in Mind label, was a sparkling collection of garage-rock and Velvet Underground inseminated Gallic pop. The follow up, Crystal Anis (on another Chicago underground stalwart, Hozac Records) is a shorter, sharper distillation of their aesthetic. Smart, simple and seductive - you’ll listen again and again.

Since the French pop of the Sixties and early Seventies, represented by singers in the Ye-Ye style (which could be generously interpreted to include everyone from France Gall and Sylvie Vartan to Jacques Dutronc and Francoise Hardy) and the sinuous, sexy songs of Serge Gainsbourg, Gallic pop has been pretty much a wasteland for three decades. The petit renaissance that began with bands like  Sonic Chicken 4 and the Plasticines showed the French could rock out with flair. And the Liminanas add additional support to a new case for Franco-rock.

Lionel and Marie (Liminanas) use spare, simple materials. Unlike many of the V.U. influenced ensembles since the Jesus and Mary Chain or Spacemen 3, Lionel Liminana abjures slick slabs of harmonic distortion, favoring instead discreet bits of Reed/Morrison guitar framings, more redolent of the Velvet’s third, self-titled album and Loaded than the merciless wave of White Light/White Heat. The band’s music also travels well with fellow neo-retro rockers like the Raveonettes and the Dum Dum Girls, even sometimes suggesting the Euro-cool of Stereolab.

 From the tremolo guitar on “Longanisse” (a sort of sausage, hmm?), and the flanged sounds of the title track, to the blasts of fuzz guitar on the choruses of “AF3458,” the Liminanas keep the textures fresh and changing. Lionel’s guitar parts play off  his Farfisa and Vox Continental style organ lines. Championed since the heyday of the sound by guys like Jeff “Monoman” Connolly in DMZ and the Lyres, these archetypal keyboard sounds are forever identified with Sixties garage-rock, a vibe associated more with one (or two) hit wonders like the Castaways, Five Americans and Seeds than the Beatles/Stones/Kinks canon.

Lionel’s vintage guitar and organ sonorities are driven by Marie’s basic, insistent drumming, and blended with everything from ukulele (“Salvation”) and glockenspiel (“Longanisse”). It’s a palette both bone simple and subtly complex and the Liminanas know the difference between embellishment and excess. 

You can hear the ghost  of “I Got You Babe”  on “Hospital Boogie,” while the instrumental “Belmondo” (a homage to new wave film star Jean Paul Belmondo) sounds like a mix of Syd Barrett’s (okay, early Pink Floyd) “Lucifer Sam” and the fictional soundtrack stars Max Frost and the Storm Troopers. “Betty and Johnny,” one of several songs sung in the band’s native tongue, has a guitar figure so derivative of Hilton Valentines’ three chord declaration on the Animals’ “We Got to Get Out of This Place” (itself a variation on Link Wray’s “Rumble”) that it might be a sample (but I think it’s played).

There’s a defiant, anomic cool to the Liminanas lyrics (at least the ones in English that a dope like me can understand), epitomized by the lyrics from “Salvation” – ‘I remember nothing when I think of you”/”I need salvation, but I don’t need you”. The detached, stylish cool of vintage Godard characters prevails here. It’s easy to imagine this music as an updated soundtrack for Breathless, Alphaville, or Band of Outsiders.
 

The odd song out here is their collaboration with Southern gothic storyteller/garage-punker John Wesley Coleman, who sings a kind of blank verse saga about a girlfriend mired in poverty and bored criminality (she might steal his car, but she “can’t afford the gas”). Hey, it starts with the line “I want to tell you about my baby;” and any song that cops the opening line from “Gloria” is a winner in my book. It’s a weird, but ripe paring, suggesting a full-length collaboration between Coleman and the Liminanas. I’m proposing it at least.

Crystal Anis pushes all of my cool, dark buttons. The Liminanas imply a certain flirtatious naivete. But I think they know exactly what they’re up to; and I would like more. 

Reverberating: 8.6 (originally 8.4)

The Countdown Continues with No. 3, Wire.

Continuing today, and culminating with REVERBERATIONS number one album of the year, we’ll be counting down the top twenty-five records of 2011. I’m referring to this countdown as Twenty-five Faves because I have no pretenses about telling you what’s “best.” Sure, I think my taste is better than yours. But nobody died and made me Lester Bangs. And Lester could be arrogant, but I kind of think he would come down on the favorite side of the fave/best dichotomy. His criticism was nothing if not personal. 

I've reviewed the majority of these selections. In the event that I have I'll simply recycle the original reviews, sometimes with a little new commentary. If it's a selection I haven't reviewed previously, I will dash off a new, brief, introductory review just for perspective.

 

Joining:

25. Kurt Vile - Smoke Ring for my Halo (Matador)
24. Fountains of Wayne - Sky Full of Holes (Yep Roc)
23. Bass Drum of Death - GB City (Fat Possum)
22. Coathangers - Larceny and Old Lace (Suicide Squeeze)
21. Meg Baird - Seasons on Earth (Drag City)

20. White Fence - Is Growing Faith (Woodsist)

19. Dum Dum Girls - Only in Dreams (Sub Pop) 

18. Steve Cropper - Dedicated (429 Records) 

17. Thee Oh Sees - carrion crawler/the dream ep (In the Red) 

16. Sonny and the Sunsets - Hit After Hit (Fat Possum) 

15. Tom Waits - Bad as Me (Anti)

14. Laura Marling - A Creature I Don't Know (Ribbon) 

13. Pete and the Pirates - One Thousand Pictures (Stolen Recordings/U.K.)

12. Jolie Holland - A Pint of Blood (Anti)

11. Wild Flag - s/t (Merge)
10. Vaccines - What Did You Expect From the Vaccines (Columbia)

  9. Jack Oblivian - Rat City (Big Legal Mess/Fat Possum)

  8. Eleanor Friedberger - Last Summer (Merge)

  7. New York Dolls - Dancing Backwards in High Heels (429 Records)

  6. Raphael Saadiq - Stone Rollin' (Columbia)

  5. PJ Harvey - Let England Shake (Vagrant)

  4. June Tabor and Oysterband - Ragged Kingdom (Topic)

 Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in January I reviewed our No. 3 release in the Countdown for the Kansas City Star. As I described them in the review Wire were punk by proximity, but their long, oft interrupted career has produced some real milestones. In 2011 they added another, not something you can say about many 'punk' bands from 1977, right?

Here's the link to my review of Wire's Red Barked Tree (Pink Flag Records):

http://backtorockville.typepad.com/back_to_rockville/2011/01/new-music-alert-reliable-wire-and-more.html