6) Grizzly Bear – Shields
There are a couple records here that I just like for their own sake; I can't really explain them, over-think them or even analyze them because I can't really figure out why I like them so much. Shields is one of these. Briefly, this record rocks the sounds, timbres, and structures I've come to love from rock bands. And, as my list may be evidence of enough, there aren't a whole lot of those things here. The breed is dying, but I digress. Yellow House solidified this band as important, Veckatimest showed they had realized this importance and could take themselves too seriously. Shields, however, absolutely screams growth; exploring the outer reaches of early post-rock (Colour of Spring, TNT), grasping further at a certain subtle-juxtaposition-aesthetic that YH hinted at (“Adelma,” they're almost there), and constructing the greatest critically-relevant Opus since Runaway (“Sun in Your Eyes”). The production is flawless, the engineering is perfect, and their voices are as good as ever. Sure, the lyrical content hasn't changed at all – I still have no idea what they're singing about – but that's not why us-people-who-listen-to-Grizzly-Bear listen to Grizzly Bear. I haven't quite figured that one out yet.
7) Vatican Shadow – Ornamented Walls // Jordanian Descent
A whole lot of things can be inferred about Vatican Shadow that will most likely end up being true simply through his album and track names (“India has just Tested a Nuclear Device,” “Church of the NSA,” “Nightforce Scopes,” etc, etc). Obviously, he's a political dude (see: the Joe Biden-framed EP cover for Operation Neptune Spear), but his music strictly focuses on the brutal. More specifically, the brutality of War, especially the ostensibly ambiguous nature of 21st century War; technological warfare. His image is equally serious: Mr. Fernow (as VS) most commonly rocks Desert-Storm-style camo, military-grade shades, and a fuck-you-up kind of expression. He's got an image, I'll just leave it at that.
But, as it were, I'm in no position to comment on his image, validate his implications, or even really discuss his message. Vatican Shadow's music is almost exclusively word-less; he's a soundscaper. So... any implied political themes or negative commentary on the state of war et al. appear solely through the titles he applies to each song. Without these titles (and maybe a slight oversight of the not-so-common middle-eastern folk-songs he samples, onceinawhile), this music could really be called whatever VS liked. These albums could very well have been named “Flower,” or “Sunrise,” the tracks “Lost One,” or “I Miss You,” or some other messed-up title that would more than likely not be happy like these; the effect would have most likely been the same. Regardless of the political track names and brutal design, this music is still fucking heavy as shit. One can call this whatever one likes, but one's still getting messed up by it.
Again, we find another indescribable, genre-less style that happens to grab attention because it's just plain fantastic. Ornamented Walls and Jordanian Descent are some of the most effective releases of the year, if not purely for their sonic qualities. Obviously, I don't necessarily buy into the political implications he's assigned each track/album, but that doesn't change their quality. He just releases so much god damn music, I'm very envious of this.
8) Frank Ocean – Channel Orange
Woah. Dude. Ok, hold on now. Frank Ocean exploded in 2012; he actually probably blew up. Could you run that back so I can see it? I was too busy avoiding this record for a very petty reason; its hype. Everything surrounding Channel Orange's release made me look away: a member of Odd Future releasing a neo-soul RnB throwback record, with the worst album title, most disgusting artwork, he's my age, and every single person on earth's going to love it? I'm not going to dissect this, it's all right there. One of my self-proclaimed biggest short-comings: my inability to ignore the hype, or I guess, buy into it, another way to look at it I suppose. What should have a been a release-to-look-forward-to back in May or June was one I dreaded. And for no reason other than to avoid the hype. If I only knew someone was going to actually probably blow up.
In reality, the record didn't live up to all the hype. Channel Orange, musically, is ¾ of a masterpiece, it's almost the greatest R n' B record since Voodoo, it's almost the greatest major label release since, I don't know, Kid A. It's almost the best record of the year, the same way The ArchAndroid Pt. 1 was almost the best record of 2010. But it's definitely not “almost” a Def Jam release -Or- It's “almost” not a Def Jam release. One of those will work.
In all seriousness, the first ten tracks on Channel Orange are incredible. As a singular voice, these ten tracks rival Fiona Apple’s presence as an artistic singer/songwriting force – the presence just exists over a calmer/easier landscape with more-obvious themes sung by a much saner dude. Comparison to The Idler Wheel, however trifling, seems surprisingly apt. Both records are all about the main singer, the main character, the main storyline. (Fiona Apple, see: above). For Frank Ocean, it’s an earnest look at modern twenty-something's, often with marginally negative analyses of the classes above him, viewed and made in the wake of a tragic emotional experience, which blurs the conventionally defined right/wrong distinctive lines of socially typical events. Ocean was hurt before he wrote these songs. It seems that he can’t always voice his frustrations about them, so these frustrations bleed onto other aspects of his life. A lot of this dissatisfaction verges on silliness: Lucky Charms, daddy’s Jaguar, Landscapers, beach houses in Idaho (???), geographic locations generally disassociated from anything important (Denver, Idaho, Ohio, etc). There’s an arcane sense of the paltry throughout Channel Orange; on paper, most of these elements are throw-away’s; thrown away like the expulsion of Ben Folds’ Rocking the Suburbs, generally considered silly enough to just disregard.
But Frank Ocean sings these song with such a genuine passion, such dedicated affection, it’s hard to not take him seriously. And what’s more is that goddamn voice. I’m scared to even write this, but Frank Ocean’s falsetto may be the greatest RnB falsetto to hit a record since D’Angelo’s. From the very first notes (“Do you not think so far ahead?”), it casts a deep shadow across the music whenever it appears. It’s never meant to rouse us like Beyonce’s wail or Jeremih’s sometimes-auto-tuned lines, the way we’re used to, the way we want it to – his falsetto’s meant for the truly heartbreaking moments. Although the content matter is sometimes petty, the words-themselves purportedly banal, his voice is definitely not; the emotional weight he carries is such a burden, a weight that makes any letdown deeply emotional, hurt that affects everything in our lives, not just our feelings about the singular person who may have caused it. That’s what makes this record incredible, or at least everything through “Pyramids.”
After that, it falls off. The songs lose their edge, the melodies don't catch, a lot of this is filler, and it really brings down the entire record. That still doesn't change what came before, but it definitely hurts it's overall impact. It's a shame. I don't know who's responsible, but I really wish someone would have said, “Hey, let's just do like two more songs after Pyramids and call it.” But with all the people involved, they needed to make it seem grand and make money. There's no need, it would have made money regardless.
TLDR: You're always smoking in the house, what if my mother comes over?
9) Lee Gamble – Diversions 1994-1996
I had never heard of Lee Gamble before Boomkat pushed him all over 2012 for me. A relatively unknown, this record was constructed entirely from the more ambient-and-ethereal-breaks of Mr. Gamble's jungle/dnb record collection (all ostensibly released from 94-96). As some of you know, I absolutely adore sample-based electronic music. Some of the albums I've found myself most influenced by were constructed in this same manor, just with different source material: DJ Shadow's Endtroducing..., Quiet Village Silent Movie, The Avalanches Since I Left You, etc. Diversions 1994-1996 is a welcome addition. It's also one of the most effective ambient records released in years. Layered textures, floating ambiguity, occasional breakbeats (ok, just the one breakbeat). The complexity of such a novel, un-thought-of dichotomy (collage/foundsound structure and background aesthetic) is scary.
10) Swans – The Seer // We Rose from Your Bed with the Sun in our Head
A towering volume of words was written about Swans' The Seer this year; I'll keep it short. There's a reason this record barely made my top 10, and yes, it might be slightly irrational, but My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky still remains Michael Gira's best and much better than this. He proclaimed The Seer as the culmination of his entire life's work, the second-coming of whatever-you-like in 3 LP form, Revelations, 7 lilies. He may feel that way, but I don't. The Seer is over-indulgent, unnecessarily long, and sprawling in the worst sense. It's unfocused, wrought with questionable decisions, and devoid of even the slightest hint of meaning. I realized that these negative feelings festered/bloomed through my constant comparisons to My Father, so this is me ignoring those cognizant irrationalities and putting it in a place that I guess makes sense. I mean, this is still Swans. There's still that.
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11. Spiritualized – Sweet Heart, Sweet Light
12. Grimes – Visions
13. Nadja – Dagdrom
14. Godspeed You! Black Emperor – Allelujah!
15. Miguel – Kaleidoscope Dream
16. Julia Holter - Ekstasis
17. Jeremih – Late Nights with Jeremih
18. Dan Deacon – America
19. Prins Thomas – Prins Thomas
20. Holly Herndon – Movement
21. Brian Eno – LUX
22. Wolfgang Voigt – EP
23. Lindstrom – Smalhans
24. Earth – Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II
25. Tame Impala – Lonerism
