Tuesday, May 25, 2021

1001 Albums: #38 - Sam Cooke - Live at the Harlem Square Club


Sam Cooke - Live at the Harlem Square Club
RCA, 1963



Man alive. I was always a Sam Cooke fan, but hearing him here at his rawest, putting it all out there on stage, well that's something special. The overall vibe of this thing is just awesome. It puts you right in the heart of Miami's Harlem Square Club. The recording isn't crisp, but Cooke's charisma cuts through the quality like a razor. The version of "Bring it on Home to Me" with an extended lead in and its shaggy delivery absolutely blew my mind. That's one of my favorite songs of all time, and hearing him sell it here is absolute magic. There's a reason the best of I have on vinyl is on the untouchable list when I cull. It feels like a cheat that this album--which was released 22 years after the fact in 1985--is slotted in at 1963, but it captures the period so well it's hard to argue. That Cooke was killed a year later at the age of 33 makes this album, which is brimming with life, so absolutely vital.

Monday, May 24, 2021

1001 Albums: #37 - Phil Spector - A Christmas Gift for You

Phil Spector - A Christmas Gift for You 
Philles, 1963

Welcome to our first installment of "Albums You Should Remove From This List and Put a Guided by Voices Album in its Place." Did you know there is only ONE GBV record in this so-called 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die? Only Alien Lanes made the cut, and while I'm sure you could argue that Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes achieve a similar "Peak GBV-Ness," you gotta be joking me when you've got Phil Spector's Christmas Album and Limp Bizkit's Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water on your list. Is this one of the greatest Christmas albums of all time despite the taint of Phil Spector being a psychopathic murderer? Yes, absolutely. Should you have a Christmas album on this list though? Hell no. This album has about a month and a half of utility, otherwise you should be listening to the Crystals and the Ronettes discography proper.

Seriously, CHOCOLATE STARFISH AND THE HOT DOG FLAVORED WATER made the cut. I totally get trying to capture the zeitgeist of a given year, but CHOCOLATE STARFISH AND THE HOT DOG FLAVORED WATER?! At least go for Significant Other. The thing is, you don't need to hear that album before you die. You can go your whole life without ever hearing Limp Bizkit and be totally fine. No audiophiles will give you any crap for not being a Chocolate Starfish head. The indignity. Jesus. Anyway, this is a great Christmas record. Phil Spector was a lifelong sociopath, and it is tragic that he was always on a collision course with murder, but you can't really deny his work as a producer. This is Christmas Magic by way of foreboding terror knowing what you know in hindsight, and it is only amplified by the Spector narrated "Silent Night." But I mean, it's got Darlene Love's "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" so what're you gonna do?

Friday, May 21, 2021

1001 Albums: #36 - Bob Dylan - The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan

Bob Dylan - The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan
Columbia, 1963



I'm going through my Beatles phase now, but I went through my Dylan phase maybe ten years ago. I picked up this Rough Guide to Bob Dylan from the clearance section of Half Price Books and proceeded to spend the next six months working through his discography and acquiring his albums on vinyl as they came across the buy counter. My copy of Freewheelin' however is a super nice 180 Gram reissue and I vividly remember ordering it after listening to it all the way through for the first time during my Bob Dylan Year. "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" was the first ringtone I bought when buying ringtones was a thing, and it remained my ringtone for at least two full years even though that song makes for a terrible ringtone. It's hard to think of a more perfect kiss-off song. In these latter days I've been listening to the back half of the album more. It's more of its time than the A-Side, but "Talking World War III Blues" is one that feels as potent now as it ever did. 

1001 Albums: #35 - The Beatles - With the Beatles

The Beatles - With the Beatles
Parlophone, 1963


I'm currently going through my Beatles phase. The Beatles have been ever-present in my life forever, like anyone else who grew up listening to Oldies, but until this year the only albums of theirs I had listened to all the way through were Rubber Soul and Sgt. Pepper. It was purely a greatest hits kind of fandom. It has been a lot of fun working through their discography, mostly because it's incredible how much they evolved over the course of a single decade. The group's second album is half covers, and the only Beatles classic in the tracklist is "All My Loving." You could make an argument for "Don't Bother Me" if George is your favorite Beatle, so I'll make the argument for "Don't Bother Me" (that Scorsese doc about him is currently on HBO Max and it's excellent). Also, the Lennon/Harrison duet of Smokey Robinson's "You Really Got a Hold on Me" is fantastic. Also, when I was a kid my siblings and I were at the bowling alley with my dad eating corn dogs and my dad instructed me to play "Roll Over Beethoven" on the jukebox in at our little diner booth and my finger slipped and I accidentally played "Heart of Glass" by Blondie and that is my earliest memory of shame. 

1001 Albums: #34 - Ray Price - Night Life

Ray Price - Night Life
Koch, 1962



I don't know if you're going to find a weirder Track 1 that "Introduction and Theme" in which Ray Price gives a rambling introduction to the album over the title track. But once the album gets going in earnest, man, that title track is a perfect capsule of country and western misery. I'm almost surprised David Lynch hasn't used it to soundtrack some sort of weird depravity. And look, it was written by Willie Nelson. That explains a lot. The book explains that Price and Nelson had a falling out when, "Nelson shot one of Price's roosters." Makes sense. 

1001 Albums: #33 - Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd - Jazz Samba

Stan Getz & Charlie Byrd - Jazz Samba
Verve, 1962


It's hard to think of a genre more dated than bossa nova, but you can't deny the technical proficiency at play here. It's the platonic ideal of white man's appropriation. I personally don't care for this but it wouldn't be out of place at, say, a throwback cocktail party where everyone dresses like characters from Mad Men. In that circumstance it's required listening. 

1001 Albums: #32 - Booker T & the M.G.s - Green Onions

Booker T & the M.G.s - Green Onions
Stax, 1962

It says a lot about the magic of music that one of the most ubiquitous songs of the 20th century--"Green Onions"--was essentially a jam recorded while the band was waiting for the session to start. Pull up Booker T. Jones' IMDB page and do a search for "Green Onions" and watch the whole page fill up with yellow highlights. I vividly remember it from The Sandlot, but you probably know it from something else. Either way that Hammond Organ line is one of the most instantly recognizable pieces of music on earth, even if no one knows who's playing it. The rest of the songs are alright, but feel more like something to be played between innings at a baseball game than anything else (Save for "Behave Yourself," "Lonely Avenue," and the ones with the pep removed from their step). "Green Onions" though, "Green Onions" is still magic. 

Friday, May 7, 2021

1001 Albums: #31 - Ray Charles - Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music

Ray Charles - Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music
ABC-Paramount, 1962


Ray Charles doing country classics. It's as weird as it sounds, and while it's a bit overproduced (and overstuffed) for my taste, but if you had to record definitive versions of Hank Williams classics, well, you could do a hell of a lot worse than Ray Charles. This one is at its best when the weepy strings are out of sight.

1001 Albums: #30 - Bill Evans - Sunday at the Village Vanguard

Bill Evans - Sunday at the Village Vanguard
Riverside, 1961


Evans' playing on Miles Davis' Kind of Blue gave him some immediate cred in my mind, so I came into this one with fewer White Boy Jazz suspiciousness than I did with someone like, say, Dave Brubeck (note: Jazz is none of my business). Hell of a piano player. It's another one of those great midcentury live albums that I was just talking about (see: Muddy Waters at Newport). You can practically feel the smoke-filled room and see the audience sipping cocktails. A smoke-filled room is both a nuisance and something I weirdly miss. The ambience it lends cannot be matched by a mere smoke machine either: You need to know you're going to have to wash your clothes twice before you can wear them again. I remember seeing Feist opening for the Kings of Convenience at the Bottleneck in early 2005 pre-Apple commercial and pre-indoor smoking ordinance in Lawrence and that set is one of my favorites I ever saw in the hundreds of concerts I went to in my college and post-college years. Sunday at the Village Vanguard is music built for smoke-filled rooms and a glass of scotch. I hate the bass solos but what're you gonna do (Note: Jazz is none of my business, take that with a grain of salt). Evans' piano playing is marvelous.

1001 Albums: #29 - Muddy Waters - Muddy Waters at Newport

Muddy Waters - Muddy Waters at Newport
Chess, 1960

One of this book's big shortcomings is that by starting at the end of the 1950s it pretty much skirts blues music. As a result there are a few blues records and they tend to be these career retrospective types like Muddy Waters at Newport. Considering how influential blues was to the formation of American Rock and Roll music, it seems odd that you have a late career John Lee Hooker (save his 1989 album The Healer), a BB King live album, no Howlin' Wolf, no Robert Johnson, no Lead Belly. I get starting this book at a definitive point--the point where the idea of The Album really starts taking hold--but I feel like this thing at least needs a prologue, especially considering how many times Eric Clapton shows up in it. 

Alas, at least this Muddy Waters record was included. These live albums from the 50s and 60s have been some of my favorites to listen to over the course of this project. This one is particularly good because these songs benefit from being roughed up. You get a lot more life out of them than if they'd been pristinely recorded in a studio. 

1001 Albums: #28 - Jimmy Smith - Back at the Chicken Shack

Jimmy Smith - Back at the Chicken Shack
Blue Note, 1960


While I absolutely love this album's groundbreaking use of the Hammond organ, the album's cover has instantly slotted in to my all time Top Whatever. I love how straight forward it is! I love that bright red shirt. I love the literal chicken shack. I love that good boi sitting there for pets. Smith sets himself apart from a crowded field of jazzmen (remember, Jazz is none of my business) and creates a sound with a surprising amount of swagger. Dude made the organ cool. That's a feat on its own, but this was one of the most pleasant surprises I've come across in the book so far. An album I've put on a couple times already when I needed something to cook dinner to.

1001 Albums: #27 - The Everly Brothers - A Date with the Everly Brothers

The Everly Brothers - A Date with the Everly Brothers
Warner Bros, 1960


When I first listened to this album, I thought, man, this would never fly today. But then I remembered there's a Kidz Bop version of Pitbull's "Timber" which boasts the line "Let's make a night you won't remember/ I'll be the one you won't forget." It's amazing how many date rapey lines are littered throughout the Kidz Bop canon. And so, the Everly Brothers version of Pure Patriarchal Romance is kind of quaint. That is, unless you adjust for romantic inflation. Check out the second verse:

One day soon you'll have a date
And you'll take her home that night
You'll wonder as you look at her
Would a kiss be right

The more you look, the more you'll find
Those doubts will fill your head
But think real hard and you might recall
The things your old dad said

Girls, girls, girls were made to love
Girls, girls, girls were made to love

Maybe dear old dad should have taught these brothers a thing or two about consent! I'd say you adjust for inflation, that's as bad or worse than Pitbull. Girls weren't made to have their own fulfilling lives with their own dreams and goals, they were MADE TO LOVE, DAMNIT! Another problem with this song is that it's damn catchy. This album also has the first recorded version of "Love Hurts," which I love not because of the hair metal cover by Nazareth, but Bob Pollard and Kim Deal's rendition. It also has "Cathy's Clown," which is one of my all time favorite oldies. Sonically you can hear the influence they're going to have on countless pop-rock bands going forward into the 60s, but lyrically you can...also hear the influence they are going to have on countless pop-rock bands going forward (particularly the early Beatles which I sense are coming soon).

1001 Albums: #26 - Miriam Makeba - Miriam Makeba

Miriam Makeba - Miriam Makeba
RCA Victor, 1960

The second Miriam Makeba started singing, I realized precisely where tUnE-YaRdS copped her sound from. Makeba's vocals go right for your soul without hesitation. Goddamn can this woman sing. Now imagine hearing that in 1960 with some of the post-war whitewashing starting to erode. Gorgeous stuff.

1001 Albums: #25 - Elvis Presley - Elvis is Back!

Elvis Presley - Elvis is Back!
RCA, 1960


I love the mental image of Elvis getting back from the Army and immediately being shoved into a recording studio. Elvis isn't my personal favorite, but his influence among soulful white boys of a certain age is hard to ignore. One of my favorite things about this particular album is how thrown together it feels. That's a feature not a bug. It feels natural, not overproduced. Considering how hungry the adoring public was for new Elvis, the bar was pretty low, and it feels like The Pelvis and his crew went above and beyond to deliver an album that is a lot more fun than it needed to be.

1001 Albums: #24 - Joan Baez - Joan Baez

Joan Baez - Joan Baez
Vanguard, 1960


Finally out of the 50s! And what better way to inaugurate the 60s than to capture some of that folksinger spirit with Joan Baez's debut. Her voice is sublime, but you know that already. That said I can make it about four songs before needing to take a break. Maybe that's why I've never listened to a Joan Baez record all the way through. She's excellent here or there, but so much vocal quavering starts to wear on me after a while. Still, there are some great tunes here, particularly "Silver Dagger."

1001 Albums: #23. The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Time Out

 The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Time Out
Columbia, 1959

I can't listen to this album without recalling one of the most cringeworthy experiences I was ever party to. I went to a small cocktail party (ung) with my buddies at the apartment of some people I didn't know. I sat in a corner most of the time and watched these two hipster dudes pick the music, and vividly remember them putting on this album. It's about as far as you can get from Kind of Blue. Everything about this is clean and precise and perfect, and maybe that's why my initial impression is, "It's fine." I get why it's good, the technical proficiency can't be argued, but there's just something missing. But, remember what I said: I'm the last person you want giving you advice about Jazz. 

1001 Albums: #22. Marty Robbins - Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs

Marty Robbins - Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs
CBS, 1959

I liked this one WAY more than I thought I was gonna. Everyone knows "El Paso," but I was expecting something cornier. There's a certain novelty quality to these cowboy songs, but the way Robbins sells them is masterful. What could be hokey is perfectly marries the time it comes from and the time it is trying to capture. The Robbins' penned tunes--"Big Iron," "El Paso," "The Master's Call," "In the Valley"--are unsurprisingly the most interesting/compelling tracks on the record. "Big Iron" in particular. 

1001 Albums: #21. Miles Davis - Kind of Blue

Miles Davis - Kind of Blue 
Columbia, 1959


Jazz isn't really any of my business. It's a genre I appreciate from the sidelines but lack the music brain to provide a legitimate judgement. I'm assuming all of the jazz records on this list are exceptional. Where I've basically spent the last 20 years trying to shout my opinions about music from the rooftops, I'm perfectly happy to take someone else's word for it here. Despite my lack of music knowledge, I know that having Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, and Bill Evans all playing together is music magic. This record just stops you in your tracks. You can tell that if you google Greatest Jazz Records of All Time this is gonna be the first one that pops up. Try it.

1001 Albums: #20. Ray Charles - The Genius of Ray Charles

Ray Charles - The Genius of Ray Charles
Atlantic, 1959


There's something absolutely timeless about Ray Charles' voice. So many of the albums on this list so far are very much of their time. The huge orchestrations on this album are of their time, sure, but if you strip all of that away and leave only Charles' voice, you've got something that is purely universal. 


Sunday, April 25, 2021

My Favorite Movies of 2020

2020: The year we collectively agree to take a mulligan (or a Carey Mulligan, I guess, but we can talk about Promising Young Woman later). The year where everyone gets a pass. The year where movies got pushed back forever or studios just threw up their hands and streamed them for free. Just look at 2020’s Oscar nominees where there isn’t a big budget surefire bet in the bunch. Instead there are a bunch of smaller, more intimate films that would typically get overlooked but this year get a chance to shine. Despite getting a pass for being a down year, every down year has at least 10-15 movies that are excellent enough for a list.

15. I’m Thinking of Ending Things
Directed by Charlie Kaufman

I ended up consolidating two films on my original top 15 and needed a film for the last spot. This was a fun little exercise that made me think about every other movie from 2020 that I had seen. The problem is there are at least 5-10 movies from 2020 that I wasn’t able to get to, and the odds of at least one of those slotting higher than this one are extraordinarily good. AND YET. This is about what I can get to by Oscar Night, and despite having mixed feelings about Charlie Kaufman’s latest, I sure as hell haven’t forgotten it. That movie is stuck inside of me. It’s pure kino. The way this movie unfolds layer by layer like a rotten onion is truly magnificent. The performances are all excellent, but Toni Collette’s deranged mother character was one of my favorite performances of the year. The details of I’m Thinking of Ending Things are best left unsaid so you can best have the most uncomfortable viewing experience possible (which is weirdly desired in this case). For what it’s worth, it’s hard to find filmmakers willing to get this weird while still trying to keep us cemented to an emotional center.

14. The Trip to Greece
Directed by Michael Winterbottom

I loved the first Trip movie so much, and hated the second Trip movie so much, that I didn’t even know there was a third Trip movie. I signed on to review The Trip to Greece thinking it was the third installment, curious to see if they were able to right the ship. I still haven’t seen The Trip to Spain, but the qualms I had with The Trip to Italy (that it was a photocopy of the first one with diminishing returns a la Michael Keaton in Multiplicity) vanished. For all the wonderfully idiotic jokes and impressions and ribbing and banter, this is a surprisingly deft tale about two men getting up there in age and trying to make peace with the lives they have lived. Had I known I was going to like the film this much, I would have saved myself for the miniseries.

13. Raya and the Last Dragon
Directed by Don Hall and Carlos Lopez Estrada

Disney gonna Disney, I guess. The Movie Theater In Your Home rentals the pandemic brought felt a bit like a Pandora’s Box. So convenient and appealing, but with a hefty $30 price tag. Once you open it, you’re going to end up doing it all the time I thought. Was Raya and the Last Dragon worth $30? You bet. I love how Disney Princesses have slowly and steadily become more resourceful badasses. Tangled hinted at it, the Frozen movies hinted further, Moana took it to previously not-before-seen highs of competence, and Raya goes all in. What I love most about this film, however, is its lack of a clear antagonist. It’s rare to see shades of gray like this from an empire built on fairy tales, but the central construct is that everyone in this fantasy world needs to cooperate to take down a greater evil that will destroy them all, and they’re all unwilling to do it. Sound familiar? It’s hard to think of a movie better suited to watch during quarantine as maniacs rail against the measures that will get us through a pandemic safely.

12. The King of Staten Island
Directed by Judd Apatow

Like all of Judd Apatow’s movies, The King of Staten Island is about 45 minutes too long, rambling, unfocused, and full of heart. Apatow is a clumsy filmmaker whose work I’ll always check out. This is Pete Davidson showing the world he’s not just that tattooed stoner guy from SNL, turning in outstanding work as a loosely fictional version of himself. Bill Burr (who had a hell of a year as a capital A Actor with this and his incredible Space Boston accent in The Mandalorian) is a revelation here.

11. Fireball: Visitors From Darker Worlds & Nomad: In the Footsteps of Bruce Chatwin
Directed by Werner Herzog and Clive Oppenheimer


Nomad: In the Footsteps of Bruce Chatwin
Directed by Werner Herzog

Watching the Ken Burns Ernest Hemingway docuseries on PBS the other night, I started thinking about what it would look like had it been made by Werner Herzog. Burns is great, and I love his documentaries, but I much prefer Herzog’s subjective, wildman approach to a subject over Burnsy’s dry, informative style. Both have their place, but whereas Burns’ work feels like school, Herzog’s feels like a trip down the rabbit hole. Obviously, I would follow Herzog to the ends of the earth, and it always seems like that’s where his subject matter takes him. Both of his 2020 docs are incredible. One is about asteroids, one is about adventurer Bruce Chatwin. Both films have tons to say about who we are as a species, and both capture the irreverence of the human spirit and our small place in this world (and cosmos). I love this man.

10. Soul
Directed by Pete Doctor

Pixar gonna Pixar. While Onward is more on brand for me in regard to their 2020 output, Soul got stuck in my, well, you get where I’m going with that. Maybe it’s because I also watched A Matter of Life and Death earlier this year and there are some gleeful parallels here, but also, just, dangit Pixar has a map to our collective EMOTIONAL RESONANCE button and just slams on that sucker at every opportunity. While Disney’s inability to keep black bodies IN their bodies when they feature African-American’s in their films, at least this one isn’t as bad as The Princess and the Frog. This one at least feels like it’s the story of a black man, which is a big step for Disney. And despite all of the EMOTIONAL RESONANCE button mashing, this movie is also funny as hell. The lone serious student film I made was about the idea of the afterlife, so I have a soft spot for that sort of thing, and Soul has so much fun with it that I realize I was wrong when I was pondering which Pixar movie was most tailor made for me. It was this one all along, duh.


9. Escape From Pretoria
Directed by Francis Annan

If you held a gun to my head and had me pick a favorite movie subgenre, I would instinctively say “Prison Escape Movie.” But honestly, who doesn’t love a good prison escape movie? I watched Le Trou last year and immediately slotted it into my top 20 movies of ALL TIME. The Great Escape. The Shawshank Redemption. Stalag 17. Escape From Alcatraz. Rescue Dawn. The Count of Monte Cristo. Maybe it’s something about man’s desire to be free or whatever. LIVE FREE OR DIE. Etc. I can’t get enough. What’s amazing is that there are still a slew of prison break classics that I haven’t seen, and knowing that I have a vast well of escape cinema to draw upon brings me great comfort. Add Escape From Pretoria to that list. I went into this one like, “Ok, young director trying to make his name, Harry Potter trying to further establish himself as a serious actor even though he doesn’t need to because everyone loves him unconditionally, apartheid era social commentary, this will probably be pretty good.” It’s as good as any of the greats. I think one thing the prison break movie has that gives it an unfair advantage in regard to other genres is the built in tension. The scene where they ALMOST get caught and the plan that has been painstakingly carried out is almost thrown out the window. It’s pure horror movie stuff. But I don’t really like horror movies, so maybe this is where I go for that feeling where I feel like my heart is going to fly out of my chest and run down the street. Director Francis Annan isn’t just a name to watch, he’s someone I’d put money on to become a star because man this one was just so damn good.

8. The Place of No Words
Directed by Marc Webber

20 year old me would have decried this film as a sappy vanity project. I know it. 35 year old father of two me openly wept at multiple points during this movie. This is effectively Marc Webber’s way of working through the anxiety of what would happen to his son if he died prematurely. Webber’s son Bodhi plays himself, and Webber’s wife Teresa Palmer plays herself. Everyone plays themselves. The film jumps between Webber’s Hollywood reality and a children’s fantasy world as his character attempts to tell his son that he has terminal cancer and is dying. Despite the contrivance of the story’s structure--which I was into, and yet find it hard to recommend this film to anyone--it feels like an elevated home movie. Like what if your home movies were an art film? Webber is one of those actors I’ve always loved--from Todd Solondz’s Storytelling to Scott Pilgrim--so I’m probably biased, but if The Place of No Words is anything it’s honest, and honest filmmaking is a treasure.


7. The Father
Directed by Florian Zeller

Here’s another one that I’m shocked got a Best Picture nod, considering how intimate this film is. If this film was just two absolute stars in Olivia Coleman and Anthony Hopkins working pure thespian magic it would still be one of the year’s most quietly compelling films, but Florian Zeller’s use of the form to illustrate Hopkins’ titular Father’s Alzheimer’s is some of the year’s most incredible cinematic wizardry. Zeller effectively puts you in the shoes of someone who is losing their memory, and this brilliant trick allows you to empathize with a person suffering from a degenerative memory disorder unlike any other film. Even as Hopkins lashes out at those around him and is exceedingly cruel to his daughter, Zeller allows you to understand why he is acting this way. It’s absolutely heartbreaking stuff, and it’s a shame that Zeller was snubbed for Best Director because this is what brilliant directing looks like.


6. You Cannot Kill David Arquette
Directed by David Darg and Price James

I remember when David Arquette won the WCW title. I was a ride or die WWF kid, but like all of us, we still flipped over to TNT during the commercial breaks. This was when WWF had basically won and WCW was in its death throes. Hence desperately putting the belt--the same one held by Ric Flair and the like, a belt of prestige goddamnit!--on an actor who didn’t give a shit about the business to pop a rating. For wrestling fans, this was what we thought about when we thought of David Arquette. He was a joke. Someone who Jim Cornette would say KILLED THE BUSINESS. I wouldn’t go that far, but it David Arquette + Pro Wrestling definitely didn’t equal something pleasant.

You Cannot Kill David Arquette starts with that presumption and builds on it. It knows you hate David Arquette the Wrestler. It knows you thought him winning the strap in the late 90s was idiotic. So seeing how much he cares about the business, and watching him transform himself into a legitimate pro wrestler is pure movie magic. You don’t need to be a wrestling fan to get into this movie. I am of the mind that people like watching documentaries that focus on people who are passionate about something, and it doesn’t really matter what that something is so long as their passion is true (unless that passion is, say, being a Nazi or something equally abhorrent). This is a movie about trying to make good, even when everyone around you thinks you’re crazy, and then making good. It’s an outta nowhere feelgood story that I have been hawking to anyone and everyone all year. CURRENTLY STREAMING ON HULU GET ON THAT BROTHER OOOOOHHHH YEAHHHHHHH!


5. Nomadland
Directed by Chloe Zhao

Once I put aside the glamorization of the Amazon Warehouse that this film depicts (not a piss bottle in sight, and I desperately want to see the contract that says you can shoot at the warehouse, but you have to make it look like the happiest workplace on Earth), I was able to fully immerse myself in this portrait of a woman (and a cadre of RVers) attempting to set herself apart from the American capitalist system that killed her husband and set her adrift, while still relying on the gig economy to fund her meager van life. Frances McDormand is unreal here. I don’t know how she does it. It’s like she exists in a sort of zen state. Like she doesn’t even need to act, that’s just her. It’s awe inspiring. David Strathairn is also someone I love to see pop up here and there and he’s a perfect foil for McDormand (earlier on the day of watching this I watched him in The Expanse with his quasi-South African Belter accent and I think that really cemented how much I love this guy, and how damn talented he is, and how it’s a shame he didn’t win that Oscar for Good Night and Good Luck). But this is Chloe Zhao’s movie, and if it wins Best Picture and she Best Director that is going to feel like a coup. It shouldn’t feel like a coup, because Nomadland firmly establishes her as one of the most talented directors we have right now (I can’t WAIT to see her Marvel movie Eternals, oh boy). This movie could be bleak, but she breathes so much life into it. Masterful stuff.


4. Boys State
Directed by Jesse Moss and Amanda McBaine

The premise of Boys State is compelling enough—every year a thousand plus high school boys in Texas (though many states have Boys State and Girls State programs) participate in a mock government in an effort to teach them about our democratic institutions—that it doesn’t really need to do much more than present the program to be interesting. Instead Jesse Moss and Amanda McBaine gave us one of the year’s most entertaining, depressing, and hopeful films. It’s Model UN meets Lord of the Flies. A bunch of hormonal teenagers vying to outmaneuver each other in the fake governments they are establishing. Moss and McBaine focus on a handful of boys from various backgrounds and with varying political ideologies, and all of these boys are among the year’s most compelling characters. From the Machiavellian Reagan obsessed Ben Feinstein (who proves himself to be the film’s truest villain) to longshot party leader Steven Garza (who proves himself to be the film’s hero and single handedly gives you hope for a better future) to Robert McDougall who uses a silver tongue and All-American Boy vibe to sway his compatriots on the evils of abortion and gun control before admitting later on that he doesn’t actually believe any of that stuff and this is all a game to him. It’s our political system write small, and perfect viewing for the what proved out to be (so far) the end of the chaotic cruelty of the Trump Era.


3. First Cow
Directed by Kelly Reichardt

I dipped out on Kelly Reichardt for a minute and I don’t know why. The last work I saw of her was back in the early days of Netflix streaming when we started Meek’s Cutoff and the stream froze and when we couldn’t get it back up and running, gave up. What a shame. She’s so great. First Cow plays like a parable set amongst the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest frontier. Despite the simplicity of the story--two outcasts form an unlikely partnership and steal milk from the frontier town’s only cow to make delicious cakes and sell them to the townsfolk--every frame feels like it weighs a ton. John Magaro and Orion Lee both give the sort of compelling and tender performances this kind of movie requires to really sear it in your memory.


2. Promising Young Woman
Directed by Emerald Fennell

Jenny was begging me to rent this for weeks, but I just couldn’t justify dropping $20 to watch a movie that would be down to the standard $6 rental price or better yet, streaming on Hulu or whatever, within a few weeks. And lo, it dropped in price and I acquiesced. And had we blown the full $20 on this, it would have been well worth it because goddamn what a movie. Director Emerald Fennell absolutely nails her debut feature, and every little detail about this movie feels intentional. I’ve seen complaints about the film’s inconsistent tone, but I don’t see it. Everything move feels purposeful, and the blending of satire, exploitation film, and searing critique of American rape culture makes this a big ol’ box of TNT. It’s pure righteous anger towards a culture that caters to protecting the lives of men while women “have it coming.” Carey Mulligan is incredible, and while that’s a platitude considering that she’s always incredible, she’s REALLY incredible here. We’d just watched her episode of SNL where she was pretty eh, which was kind of perfect because it lowered my usually high standards for her work and she absolutely dominates this film.


1. Sound of Metal
Directed by Darius Marder

Sound of Metal hit me like a truck. A movie I knew was probably going to be my favorite movie of the year the second it ended. When I saw the screener request come through at Moviejawn, I jumped immediately when I saw Riz Ahmed sitting behind that drum kit on the poster. Ahmed’s supporting work in Nightcrawler blew me away and I was pumped to see that he finally got a leading role. The logline: heavy metal drummer loses hearing and has to adapt to his new life as a deaf man, made it feel like a no doubter. And it was a no doubter. To see it nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars is exhilarating, because even though it won’t win, it’s still a miracle that such an small and intimate film even blipped on the radar.

Riz Ahmed is a star. After this I watched his breakout--Four Lions--and was impressed by him even then. It’s something about his eyes. They’re enormous, they convey so much feeling it’s insane. In Sound of Metal he excels at portraying trauma in real time. Here we have a man—Ruben--whose entire world falls apart. A musician losing his or her hearing feels like a Shakespearean tragedy. What’s so beautiful about Sound of Metal is it’s not so much about Ruben’s rage at losing his hearing--though there is plenty of that--but about his trying to find acceptance and adapt to his new life. The film leans on the deaf community to get this point across, and it’s just incredible stuff. Paul Raci--who runs the halfway house for deaf and hard of hearing folks where the main character ends up--is an absolute force, and again, to see his work recognized by the Academy seems baffling. Only in 2020. His Joe provides an anchor to Ahmed’s Ruben, and their interactions are the most incredible filmmaking of the year. It’s the beating heart and soul of this movie. Sure Mank has the technical brilliance (though the sound design of this film is incredible, I won’t spoil it but it’s one of the little details that makes this a masterpiece), Promising Young Woman and Nomadland have the social commentary, but in terms of pure feeling, Sound of Metal blows them all away. 

Friday, January 1, 2021

My Favorite Albums of 2020

Like everything in 2020, my music consumption this year went sideways. That is to say, I went down a lot of weird rabbit holes. In spring, right after the lockdown, I started working on a master emo playlist and accidentally got super into Coheed & Cambria and then spent March-August listening to pretty much nothing but their records. I also have a running playlist called “1000 Songs” which is more than 1000 songs but is my effort to compile a massive playlist where I can hit shuffle and every track kills. I put that one on a lot too. Late in the year I decided I wanted to listen to every album from the 1001 Albums to Listen to Before You Die book because that seemed like a great idea (and I’m only 20 albums in and it has been a tremendous amount of fun). 

Mostly though, I found myself working in my shop or making dinner not knowing what to put on so I’d just listen to a podcast. Or I’d put on John Prine, whose death this year at the hands of COVID still hits me right in the gut (listening to his final recording, “I Remember Everything” is a recipe for tears). Which is to say my 2020 new music consumption wasn’t particularly adventurous. 


7. Taylor Swift - folklore/evermore

Roughly ten years ago Taylor Swift released her single “You Belong With Me” and up until that point I had never hated a song more than that one. It rang 1000% hollow. What does this popular girl know about wearing t-shirts? For many years Taylor Swift remained a persona non grata. And then I had kids, and my wife started listening to Taylor Swift, and slowly but surely my mask of music snob hate began to crumble. Earlier this year we watched the Taylor Swift documentary Miss Americana, and I realized that while I was growing out of my hate Taylor Swift was maturing into one of her genre’s best songwriters. It takes a minute for Swift to let her guard down in that doc, but when she does you see that she has a tireless work ethic and a deep commitment to doing whatever the hell she wants.

That commitment to doing whatever the hell she wants is on full display on her two quarantine albums: folklore and evermore. This isn’t a case of an album and a b-sides album, but two fully fleshed out and distinct records that are equally excellent. Does the National’s Aaron Dessner being on board as producer help me get on board? Certainly, but what really won me over with these albums is the songs. I questioned whether it was Stockholm Syndrome, since we listened to this almost exclusively in Jenny’s car on family trips because it was something everyone could agree on. But no, I don’t think it’s that. Watching The Long Pond Sessions doc on Disney+ cemented my original suspicion that Taylor Swift was in Thanos mode. Fully locked in, fully committed, and making music that feels like it will last a lifetime. Her ability to balance pure fiction with emotional truth is impeccable. And here I am swooning over T-swift, if 2009 KJHK Music Director Ian could see me now! I was such a hater back then. It was cool to hate. It was fun to hate. I mean, obviously it wasn’t, but I relished in it because I was young and stupid. And now I’m older, and slightly less stupid, and more open minded to music at least. Still stuck in my indie rock ruts but willing to admit I’m wrong. So that’s progress at least. 


6. Pinegrove - Marigold

There’s something so cozy about Pinegrove’s music. One of my strongest associations with them is driving home from work in a blizzard with Cardinal playing on the stereo. While the group hasn’t quite hit the highs of that record, the subsequent two albums are far from sophomore slump territory. Marigold in particular is intimate and lovely and earnest and just a damn fine record.


5. Jeff Rosenstock - NO DREAM

Oh, look at that, another great punk rock record from Jeff Rosenstock. Mercifully I feel like I had more time to digest this one than I did with Worry and POST- which came in such quick succession. NO DREAM and AJJ’s Good Luck Everybody were the perfect soundtrack albums for the hellscape of Trumpian America, and while NO DREAM is certainly less defeated, it’s just as angry and willing to express that with pure exuberance.


4. Bonny Light Horseman - Bonny Light Horseman

Obsessively listening to an album of reworked folk standards for comfort was not on my list of things to do for 2020, and yet here we are. The Fruit Bats frontman Eric D. Johnson and Tony Award winner Anais Mitchell’s voices find new places to haunt in these old songs and make them feel as relevant as anything. Of all the year’s albums, this one was my go-to when I couldn’t think of anything else to listen to and wanted an album to swim around in.



3. The Mountain Goats - Songs for Pierre Chuvin/ Getting Into Knives

The lockdown was bound to produce some records that wouldn’t exist otherwise. With Taylor Swift, we saw her release two of the most immaculately produced and best written albums of her career. From John Darnielle, we saw him return to the boombox days for an album of songs about...the waning days of European paganism. Ok. I’ll follow JD to the ends of the earth so this was no big sell, but the songs on Songs for Pierre Chuvin are the sort of songs that made me fall in love with the Mountain Goats in the first place. There’s a freedom to these tracks that you don’t really get from his latter day studio recordings (which, as I’ll get to in a minute, are still great just different). There’s a raw verve that allows you to see his soul a little clearer. I’m no purist, i.e. one of those OG Mountain Goats fans who think he jumped the shark when he signed to 4AD and started recording the albums in proper studios, but this is one of those albums that fully sustained me in those early days of the quarantine.

Getting Into Knives is the studio album, and I’m still pretty surprised we got this one in 2020 as well given how quickly it’s coming on the heels of In League With Dragons. That’s some Bob Pollard pacing right there (but still at a manageable enough clip that I can get to all of them without feeling overwhelmed). I don’t love every new Mountain Goats record, but they’re almost always good enough to make my year end list because JD is just that damn good and the funny thing is that I usually get into them eventually. Like Transcendental Youth, which I only really came around on last year. Or Goths, which I found myself listening to a lot in February. Getting Into Knives has more of an immediate appeal to me, and it’s one I’m still discovering and loving more every time I listen. 


2. Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud 

I’ve been a marginal Waxahatchee fan since her 2013 breakout sophomore LP Cerulean Salt, and while I enjoyed the indie rock throwback vibe of that album’s two follow-ups--Ivy Tripp and Out of the StormSaint Cloud feels like the album where Waxahatchee becomes Waxahatchee and Katie Crutchfield fully realizes the songwriting potential she showed on Cerulean Salt’s best tracks. Despite being borne out of personal struggle, it’s an album that feels warm and lived in, always begging for another listen. 


1.Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher/ AJJ - Good Luck Everybody

I’m too tired to do the hand wringing display of which album takes the top spot this year. Both of these albums are phenomenal, and each of them served a distinct purpose in “using music to cope with the horrors around me” strategy in 2020. Where Bridger’s Punisher is an achingly brilliant examination of the internal, AJJ’s Good Luck Everybody is a furiously hopeless screed against the external (and the grief caused by the Trump administration). My line was that if Biden won, Punisher won, and if Trump won, Good Luck Everybody won, but seeing the fallout it’s clear that nobody won. We are stuck with the cult of Trumpism for the foreseeable future and have to live amongst this flock of conspiracy theory believing marks, fools, and idiots. It’s cruel and unusual, but what are you gonna do about it? Good luck everybody.


Punisher was my most anticipated album of the year. I have regaled at length my discovery of Phoebe Bridgers. How I initially thought she was some sort of Aimee Mann-esque journeywoman finally getting her big break with 2017’s Stranger in the Alps. I didn’t really listen to that album until 2018 when it became clear that had I been paying attention (and not buried in grad school work) it clearly would have been my Album of the Year. It was in my Top 10 of the Decade, and it is highly likely that Punisher will be in the Top 5 of the Decade next time around. When I found out that Phoebe Bridgers was not a 30-something troubadour and was in fact a mid-20s baby, it made her songs that much more phenomenal. To quote the Smiths (I roll this out everytime I listen to Bridgers), “How can someone so young sing words so sad?” She’s a young artist with what feels like a lifetime of experience, and a gift for sharing that experience with the rest of the world. Punisher tackles all of the big internal struggles, and some of the external ones as well. It’s an album that is both a masterpiece, and yet it doesn’t feel like we have even seen Bridgers’ best work yet because it’s a given that she is only going to continue blowing our minds for years to come. 


Good Luck Everybody was my opium in the leadup to the election. Now that it’s over--despite what Donald Trump tries to tell you in his tyrannical attempts to dismantle American democracy--things feel slightly less depressing. Still horrifically depressing mind you, but less hopeless. AJJ’s latest captures that hopelessness in raw fashion. It’s a cry from the bottom of a well. A tribute to trying to muster the courage to face another day in a world that seeks to out-cruel itself day after day. “This is the golden age of dickotry/Probably the last golden age of anything,” Sean Bonnette sings in the era defining “Normalization Blues.” Bonnette’s Live From Quarantine were required viewing for me in those final weeks in October, and they’re still required viewing in these final weeks of 2020. AJJ has long been a favorite of mine--Christmas Island topped my Best of 2014 list and their records are routinely in my Top 10--but this is the one that I absolutely couldn’t live without. Sometimes you need someone to tell you it’s gonna be ok, and sometimes you just need to know that other people feel as horrible as you do about the horrible things happening in the world. Good Luck Everybody is a perfect artifact for 2020, and the fact that it was recorded pre-COVID makes it feel almost prescient.

My Favorite Songs of 2020

As a rule, the songs list is usually more fun than the albums list for me. Throughout the back half of the year it’s my go-to anytime I need to put some music on. Sometimes I’ll read about a band and throw a song on there, seeing if it catches me when it eventually comes up on shuffle. It’s how indie rock dads keep things spicy. 


10. Destroyer - "Cue Synthesizer" (Have We Met)


9. Christian Lee Hutson - “Get the Old Band Back Together” (Beginners)


8. John K. Samson - “Millenium For All”


7. Bill Callahan - “The Mackenzies” (Gold Record)



6. Phoebe Bridgers - “Kyoto” (Punisher)



5. Matt Berninger - “One More Second” (Serpentine Prison)


4. AJJ - “Normalization Blues” (Good Luck Everybody)



3. Waxahatchee - “Arkadelphia” (Saint Cloud)


2. Perfume Genius - “Describe” (Set My Heart on Fire Immediately)


1.Jeff Rosenstock - “Scram!” (NO DREAM)