I’m ripping CDs, consolidating files, and getting new music through Amazon to have a music collection that’s not just big, but organized. Now that everything’s backed up, I’m adding things back a bit at a time to make sure everything is properly tagged. (I’d love the superpower to tag mp3s correctly by, like, sticking an Ethernet cable under my tongue.) I’m adding some of my favorite music from every year to start things off. When picking a year to start off with, it didn’t take long to pick 1979. The bestselling albums of that year–Billy Joel’s 52nd Street, the BeeGees, the Cars, Supertramp–don’t particularly interest me. But oh, I love the music bubbling under the surface from that year. Talking Heads’ Fear of Music incorporated ringing guitars in songs like “I Zimbra,” “Life During Wartime,” and “Heaven.” On Drums and Wires, XTC began to forge their own clever, quirky sound from the hyperactive electropunk that had gone before. The Clash, already one of punk’s best acts, incorporated reggae, ska, and American styles on the double album London’s Calling. The Cure and the Specials came out with their first LPs in 1979. And Gang of Four released the bracing, challenging, even off-putting Entertainment!, the beginning of modern indie rock. There was plenty of great music before this, but 1979–the end of punk, disco, and maybe even “classic rock”–feels like the beginning of MY music.
Search Results for: 1979
I’ve stated before that the end of the 70s also brought the end of old school punk and disco, and maybe even the end of what we call “classic rock.” This is also where my music begins: sounds by confused, lost weirdos who felt like aliens in Reagan’s America and Thatcher’s Britain. I’ve been thinking lately about the community of those days, when seeing a certain kind of black clothes marked a perfect stranger as an much-needed ally in small towns around the world. I’ve made a new playlist of new wave, goth, proto-Britpop, hardcore, New Romantic, deathrock, synth, psychobilly and other assorted post-punk sounds that would later fall under the then-unknown “alternative” label. It covers 1979 through 1984; later I’ll think about some more specific eras and sounds to share.
I wouldn’t normally write a paean to the glories of a record label. In this, as in so many other things, 4 AD is different. Who remembers imports? In the pre-digital age it might be that you’d hear of a new record coming out, but just couldn’t find it anywhere. Turns out it wasn’t being sold in the U.S.–it was a special EP made only in Britain, or a promotional compilation for the Far East market, or a small pressing run used to help promote the European tour. If you wanted that album you’d have to find it as an import, through mail order or a very knowledgeable local shopowner with foreign contacts or the import section at Tower Records. And you’d always pay through the nose–those imported albums and cassettes cost at least $20 in mid-1980s dollars. The imports I longed for, the ones I kept being excited to find, came out on the 4AD label from the UK.
Founded by Ivo Watts-Russell and Peter Kent in 1979, 4AD hit the ground running. They gave us the very first releases from Bauhaus and Nick Cave’s first outfit, the Birthday Party. Think about that–they could have closed up shop after two years and we’d still remember this label as changing the musical landscape. Instead they went on to further define the goth sound with the Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil; helped jump-start American indie rock by signing the Pixies and Throwing Muses; and made vital contributions to shoegaze with Lush and Unrest. They just keep pushing music in bold new directions to this day, promoting acts like Grimes, TV On the Radio, Mountain Goats, and St. Vincent in the past ten years. So I hope you enjoy the compilation below of some of the best music from 4AD.
Best Songs of 1998
That completes the goal I’ve been working towards for months: to have a streaming playlist of some of my favorite songs from every year since 1979. A list of all the playlists I’ve created can be found here. Finally, here’s a song I couldn’t find streaming that I loved back then: Korn’s “Freak On a Leash.”
the XX: xx
The XX don’t try to innovate here; there are no bold statements of vision, no daring experiments like those being concocted in contemporary Brooklyn. But make no mistake, this is a young band who know exactly what they want. These young Londoners crafted an accomplished, assured album of tight, cold synth-heavy britpop that stands with the best work of Interpol or Franz Ferdinand.
N.A.S.A.: The Spirit of Apollo
The list of collaborators on this album is overwhelming. Joining core members Squeak E. Clean and DJ Zegon are David Byrne, Chali 2na, Tom Waits, Lykke Li, George Clinton, Santogold, Tom Waits, John Frusciante, Kanye West, Karen O, George Clinton, and half a dozen others. Most reviewers hated the mish-mash of styles on this album, but I’m an unabashed fan. If the disparate sounds don’t always quite form a conversation, they’re always reaching toward that goal.
Darcy James Argue’s Secret Society: Infernal Machine
A rarity anymore, a band I discovered through a local radio station. They bill themselves as a “steampunk big band”–not sure what’s steampunk about them, but I know subtle arrangements and strong jazz sensibility when I hear it. The practical fact is that it’s hard to pay a big band in this day and age; like Carla Bley and Toshiko Akiyoshi, Argue shows the compositional potential inherent in such a big ensemble.
From China’s frontier comes a beautiful new album melding central Asian songs with bluesy American folk. You can hear a track about halfway down this list from NPR.
Bat for Lashes: Two Suns
This is art-school music at its best. With her second album Natasha Khan solidifies a place as Kate Bush’s heir-apparent, but she draws from other mystical women here as well: Sarah McLachlan, Sheila Chandra, Tori Amos, Bjork. The whole album is theatrical without making eyes roll and highly produced without ever losing the artist’s personality.
Boy Least Likely To: The Law of the Playground
When mainstream radio is dominated by Nickelback, Lady Gaga, and Kanye West, one of the most revolutionary things a band can do is take up guitar and glockenspiel and write songs that come across as deliberately, fiercely nice. Heavenly, Talulah Gosh and the Field Mice did it in the late 80s; Belle and Sebastian have been carrying the flag for over a decade; and the Boy Least Likely To look poised to keep the fires burning as we enter a new decade. WARNING: this song is so good it will have you deliberately quoting Scrappy Doo.
Rodrigo Y Gabriela: 11:11
They’re undeniably skilled flamenco guitarists, but that’s not a rare commodity; every generation has some. These two bring metal sensibilities to a genre that’s too often insular.
Neko Case: Middle Cyclone
What’s left to say about Neko Case? She’s among the best poets in contemporary music (“I have waited with a glacier’s patience / smashed every transformer with every trailer / till nothing was standing / sixty-five miles wide”), a rich-voiced, commanding singer, a performer equally at home with brooding country, brashy punk, and sunny pop. Past albums were firmly rooted in alt-country; Middle Cyclone shows more influence from Case’s membership in pop supergroup the New Pornographers, but the songs are purely hers.
Mos Def: The Ecstatic
Sometimes I forget that Mos Def is a rapper. He’s a charming actor who hasn’t recorded much in years, so an album this good comes as a pleasant surprise. Hip hop was founded in part on turntablism, and you can hear Mos Def’s hunger for sounds on this record. Check on the threatening trombones and marimba, plaintive guitar hits, and doom-fueled rap on “Twilight Speedball.”
How can a band that sounds so much like Blondie in 1979 still sound new? Metric add more indie rock guitar to their usual synths on this outing, and the change is welcome. Songs like “Sick Muse” and “Gimme Sympathy” have me missing the tiny dance floor at Yesterday’s.
Mono: Hymn to the Immortal Wind
Just when I think post-rock’s all tapped out, along comes a band like Mono. Despite their obvious influence from soundtracks, Mono’s music demands attention. There’s nothing new about the instrumentation of guitars, bass, occasional keyboard, and drums, but the soaring energy and drama sound like Schubert as much as shoegaze, Franck as much as Frank Zappa.
Animal Collective: Merriweather Post Pavilion
I’m not saying it’s as good an album as Sgt. Pepper, but it invites those kind of comparisons. The album is so huge, so disparate that it’s hard to take everything in. Animal Collective doesn’t transcend or erase musical borders; they seem genuinely unaware that borders exist. Cutting-edge electronica, vocal harmonies straight out of frontier hymns, avant-garde noise rock, and unique pop blend with some of the simplest, sweetest lyrics around to bring us songs like “My Girls.”
NOMO: Invisible Cities
Afrobeat seen through progressive jazz eyes; there’s lots of Fela Kuti, but also Holger Czukay, Sun Ra, Carla Bley, Herbie Hancock, and even Tortoise. At first I was afraid this band would fizzle out after the first release, skilled young college folks who’d learned to appropriate funk and Krautrock and wouldn’t know where to go from there. On this third album they sound more confident than ever, breathing new life into some quintessentially 70s sounds.
Riverboat Gamblers: Underneath the Owl
Vijay Iyer: Historicity
I enjoy an almost petty happiness when people like Vijay Iyer come along to shake up the jazz establishment. Modern pop music is incompatible with jazz? Howzabout a cover of M.I.A., bitches?! Iyer is fun and accessible in a way that Art Ensemble of Chicago rarely managed, reaching for new ideas in a manner lost to the legions of jazz quintets still imitating Miles and Trane.