Like a swatch cut from a cloth left behind by Nick Drake or the Fairport Convention, Mia Doi Todd’s sublime new album is that inevitable breeze blown in from the underappreciated British folk scene of the 70’s. There is a dark intensity that flows over the ten songs, and on the 10 minute epic opener “River of Life” Todd’s shimmering voice, think a darker Sandy Denny, sails patiently towards some kind of peaceful oasis hidden behind an uncanny “Pink Moon” era guitar shadow. This record is so eerily reminiscent that it is astounding to imagine it being written today.

Like the original brit-folk music that took a Volkswagen commercial twenty-five years later to revive, Todd’s art is so subtle and spare that it will hard for this to appear on today’s music radar directed by myspace and iTunes compasses. But the orchestral, often Baroque, intonations of “Gea” represents what I hope will be a rival in musical songwriting all but abandoned for electronic beats and studio bells and whistles.

Tunage

Despite the relentless negativity and uncertainty that surrounds the current state of the music business the artists and the art that emerged in 2007 were nothing less exceptional. More and better records seemed to ooze from every pore of the digital underbelly. The long tail is officially alive and well, and thanks to the success of iTunes, and the even better, eMusic service, it is now possible to deliver instant gratification to music lovers and readers of this list. In addition to that there is a wonderful real time environment for discovery and taste matching through sites like imeem, Mog, and metacritic.com. All of this makes finding and distilling a list down to even twenty must-haves near impossible. Alas, here are the records that made 2007 that much better for me. I hope you take in this list and then trust your own ears. 

1.            Midlake - “The Trials of Van Occupanther” (Bella Union)

Technically this is a 2006 record, but I didn’t find it until this year, and it was far and away the one record that meant the most to me this year. I didn’t like the name. I was suspicious about all the references to 70’s Americana. But 30 seconds into the “The Trials”, I was swept away. This is one of those rare albums that require no work whatsoever to fall hard and fast for. The breezy summer day sound is both bright and thoughtful, and does, I suppose, seem somewhat reminiscent of a genuinely American sound from some ambiguous time and place. Not so much rock like The Band, but more like only the best parts of Fleetwood Mac “Rumors”; cool and silky without any of the distinctive quirks that sometimes get tired after a while. But to suggest that the record is merely  A straight forward guitar, bass, and drums idea, is to overlook the robust instrumentation (flute, strings, brass) along the way. Somehow this record went overlooked last year, so thank goodness it is so timeless.

2.            Okkervil River “The Stage Names” (Jagjaguwar)

Far too few people will ever hear this record, I know it. This is rock balladry in its most modern finery, sung with the earnestness of a Springsteen or Tweedy, but thinner and slightly more warbling like Bright Eyes, with music as authentic and warm as “The Last Waltz.” On “The Stage Names,” the Texas band’s third album, the band has peppered their onetime sparse flavor of alt-country with billowing strings and piano such as on the epic “A Girl In Port,” or more upbeat and danceable tracks like “A Hand to Take Hold of the Scene”, and precious orchestral ditties like “Savannah Smiles.” Don’t get me wrong, this record isn’t so much a derivative of something else as it is conscious of all of the great under-appreciated music that has informed it. This is a major minor masterpiece, accessible yet specific enough to charm indie zealots and Coldplay posers alike. If not for the tragically overlooked Midlake at #1, “The Stage Names” made the first and most potent impact on me in 2007 featuring some of the finest songwriting of the year. Don’t live without it.

(more…)

In the event that you ever spent time sitting in your suburban bedroom all jacked up on adolescent angst, trying to convince yourself that you actually liked the nihlistic raving of the American hardcore bands of the early 80’s, this film is for you. The film is a gritty kind homage to regional flavors and characters that littered this short lived but prolific period of musical history.

Filled primarily with what must have been incredibly rare clips of early Black Flag, Circle Jerks, Minor Threat, Bad Brains and contemporary interviews with all these personalilites 20 years later, “American Hardcore” is the video accompaniment of the classic punk non-fiction classic “This band Could be Your Life.” I’m not sure I still have the stomach for much of this stuff anymore, but it sure is cool to revisit the dirty, brutal zeitgeist from the comfort of my cozy living room couch.

If this is still a small largely unheard indie record in six months then something has gone horribly wrong. Looking more like ZZ Top meeting up at a Sturgis Harley rally, singer Ben Bridwell has crafted one of the most beautiful rock records in a decade. Think Radiohead “The Bends” with its all the ambition and none of the alienation.

His bushy beard, and heavily inked arms make you think scary headbanger, not dreamy indie guy, but alas this is a G rated rock record for hipsters, and maybe even their kids. These songs glide smoothly on a bed of effortlessness, clouds drifting over a melodic sea, all the while Bridwell’s vocals alternating between the ethereal on “No One’s Gonna Love You” to the sublime on “Detlef Schrempf.”

Like their name, this band paints the picture of open spaces, big skies, and fond memories. Like the Frames, this is band who could easily seduce a Coldplay type audience, but until then this is a wondeeful secret.

The logical next step for Sam Beam (aka Iron and Wine) was to create a band around his intimate Drakean crooning. On the “Shepherd’s Dog” he has fulfilled the promise alluded to on the a few of his latest EP’s where he actually almost seems to be “rocking.” From the very first tune “Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car” he spins a kind of Americana groove, filled with strings, guitars and drums somewhere between The Band and his sometimes partners Calexico. All of this is accompanied by his silky vocals, but infused with a sense of wonderful sense of urgency that makes these songs such a sensible evolution of his unique brand of alt-folk.

It would be hard to think of a song more satisfying than “Lovesong of the Buzzard” an earnest organ driving romp through the open fields of your life or the kind of hypnotic tone set on “Wolves.” Ultimately this record represents a step perhaps towards the big warm sound of Wilco, but still drenched in something smaller and personal