First things first: after several years of diligently documenting the highs and lows of a small subset of pop music commonly referred to as “indie,” Mitchfork is hanging up our collective blogging shoes. While we reserve the right to come out of retirement, GUNS BLAZING, we felt the time was right to ride off into a digitally rendered sunset.
We began humbly back in 2008, with an adorable post from our intern Ezra promoting his new band Vampire Weekend. Not sure whatever happened to him or them, but he was let go soon after for never shutting up about how amazing Graceland is. Seriously dude, everyone knows Garfunkel was the talent. Simon was and is an overrated hack.
Now, almost seven years later, a lot has changed. Some staff members have gotten married (Shout out to Kathleen!), others have served time (Free Squires!), and one even split off to start his own misguided attempt at music blogging. Jake, stick to the rivers and the lakes that you’re used to. Throughout it all, we’ve patiently been waiting for new albums from Modest Mouse and the Wrens (both confirmed for 2015, although The Wrens are notoriously cagey). We’d like you all to know that, even as our passion waxed and waned, we’re grateful for each and every one of your 37 page views (looking at you, Dmitri from the Ukraine!).
Ok, that’s enough nostalgia; there’s still one more year of music still to dissect!
SEVENTH (AND FINAL) MITCHFORK YEAR IN REVIEW
GOODBYE TO AN OLD FRIEND:
Stephen Malkmus, Wig Out At Jagbags
Pavement’s former frontman is a source of much inspiration (see Jake Grindal’s wet dreams), casting a long and distinctly shaped shadow over indie rock (for recent evidence, see Parquet Courts). His solo career with The Jicks has mined some rich creative depths (Stephen Malkmus is at least the equal of Pavement’s last two albums), but he has also taken his fair share of wrong turns. Pig Lib, for example, was mostly misfires, and Real Emotional Trash was overly jammy garbage that had us poised to jump ship. Steve recaptured some of his previous playful spirit with Mirror Traffic, but this album, his sixth on his own, is the end of the line for us. There’s a reason Pavement called it quits when they did (great reunion tour though guys!); there’s a point where a band reaches the end of its creative road. Malkmus might still have some interesting ideas up his sleeve as he meanders through middle age, but we won’t be along for the ride. All that said, his will always and forever be the face (and voice, and attitude) of 90s indie rock. Never stop chasing those gold soundz, Steve!
BEST MUSIC VIDEO:
Taylor Swift, “Shake it Off”
What, you got a problem? Have you seen this video? It’s a goddamned joy to behold. Just a blast of pop sugar seamlessly blended with dancing hijinks. Perfect complement to the song, which is already addictive enough as is. You keep shaking off the haters, Taylor.
SPELLBINDING PERFORMANCE #1:
Future Islands performing “Seasons (Waiting on You)” on Letterman
About time one of the best live bands on planet earth (coming to Boston’s Royale on January 6 and 7) got their due. Letterman gets it (“I’ll take all of that you got!”). We always wondered if the other members of the band are actually that bland, or if lead singer Samuel T. Herring had them lobotomized to provide an ideal contrast for his insane voice/dance moves.
SPELLBINDING PERFORMANCE #2:
FKA twigs performing “Two Weeks” on Fallon
Forget the song, which is great. More important than that is this: does FKA twigs know magic? She appears, based on her control of her scarves, to have some supernatural abilities. There’s some eerie shit taking place on that stage.
12 STELLAR SONGS FROM THE PAST 12 MONTHS:
Cymbals Eat Guitars, “Child Bride”
(Shout-out to friend of Mitchfork Jeff for this devastating power ballad from these guys, whose third album rewards repeated listens.)
The Twilight Sad, “Last January”
(More contagious Scottish sadness from these gloomy Guses. If that’s your speed, we recommend labelmates We Were Promised Jetpacks.)
The Drums, “I Can’t Pretend”
(We honestly don’t know what is making these guys so sad. It’s not like they’re from Scotland after all.)
Angel Olsen, “Windows”
(Stirring closer to an uneven album, delicate and heartbreaking with a killer crescendo.)
Mac Demarco, "Passing Out Pieces”
(Never has a smile been able to so accurately describe a sound, but Mac’s gap-toothed grin sums up his mischievous music well.)
Broken Bells, “Perfect World”
(Songs like this show just how far The Shins are in James Mercer’s rearview mirror. We salute his continued evolution, as well as his partnership with Danger Mouse.)
Kevin Drew, “Good Sex”
(Former Broken Social Scene frontman continues to craft BSS-sounding (that's a good thing) tunes that seem, more often than not, to reference the carnal.)
Generationals, “Reading Signs”
(More catchy Aussie pop from these guys, prolific purveyors of consistently catchy Aussie pop)
TV On The Radio, “Happy Idiot”
(Their last two albums suggest they may have lost their fastball, but this Seeds standout throws some high heat your way)
Tokyo Police Club, “Feel the Effect”
(Disappointing album overall, but this track captured some of the punchy pop-punk magic from their earlier releases)
Strand of Oaks, “Shut In”
(Low-key folk act busted out of obscurity with their new album, which features bombastic tracks like this rousing anthem)
Tom Vek, “Sherman (Animals in the Jungle)”
(Shout-out, per usual, to KEXP’s John Richards for this earworm that effectively served as our song of the summer.)
NOW, THE BEST ALBUMS OF 2014:
HONORABLE MENTION/POSSIBLE BAND OF THE FUTURE:
Alex G, DSU
Here at Mitchfork, we don’t pretend to have a good grasp of the future (We lost big money betting on Ross Perot making a comeback in the 2012 presidential races). That said, we’re buying stock in the potential of one Alex G. This young man, over the course of his debut full-length album, manages to encompass the entirety of 90s indie rock and beyond. You’ll hear Pavement (“After Ur Gone”), Built to Spill (“Skipper”), Modest Mouse (“Axesteel”) and Elliott Smith (“Sorry”), and that’s just scratching the surface. Kid’s got influences to spare, but they’ll all great sources of inspiration and he does them fitting homage. We’d like to think that in 2024, when Mitchfork triumphantly comes out of retirement, young Alex will be in the middle of a prolific career in which he explores new creative ground free from the shadows of his predecessors. Also, maybe hover boards will finally be a thing.
#10
Spoon, They Want My Soul
We’re starting our top 10 the way we’ll finish it, with a veteran act that originated in the 1990s proving they’re still at the top of their game. Spoon is known for being the band that everyone likes but no one loves, but after almost two decades of delivering the goods, we’re giving them their due. They’ve never sounded fresher, all while maintaining (and further developing) their signature brand of rollicking rock. Our ears immediately perked up when we heard standout “New York Kiss,” but it needs to be said that, front to back, there’s no filler here. Just a band in completely mastery of their powers, doing their thing and continuing to deny the law of diminishing returns. And if you think that’s easy, check in on the other bands (how’s life, Phantom Planet? And what about you, The Dandy Warhols?) that were featured on the first soundtrack to “The O.C.” and see how they’re doing a decade later.
#9
Future Islands, Singles
For
us here at Mitchfork, 2012 was the year of Future Islands. Sadly, we were
unable to acknowledge our obsession via blog (the only way to truly validate
one’s obsessions), as the two albums we were sinking our teeth into, In Evening Air and On the Water, were released in 2010 and 2011, respectively. We’re
very strict about the rules here, so we kept our mouths shut, only letting them
hang open when we stood, transfixed, during this band’s otherworldly live show.
Anyways, 2014 is when one of our favorite bands of the decade deservedly broke
out (due in part to the Letterman performance of “Seasons (Waiting On You)” highlighted
above), and we couldn’t be happier for them. We’re not sure the more polished Singles stands up to their previous two
LPs, but it’s an engaging listen that ends on a high note with “A Dream of Youand Me.” Throughout, you get lead singer Samuel T. Herring’s unhinged, soaring
voice on a backdrop of swelling synths, and really, what more could a fan ask
for?
#8
Owl John, Owl John
Fresh off Frightened Rabbit’s best album to date, lead singer Scott Hutchinson set off on his own, at the suggestion of Atlantic Records (drinks on them!), to take a long-desired stab at recording some solo material. Lo and behold; even without the band, Owl John doesn’t sound dissimilar to Frightened Rabbit. That said, Hutchinson’s debut does a great job of shrinking the scope of FR’s sound, creating a more intimate atmosphere that puts the focus more on his major strength: his words. The music on standout songs like the bittersweet “Los Angeles, Be Kind” and menacing “Red Hand” will have you humming, but it’s the piercing lyrics on stripped down, politically charged tracks like “Songs About Roses” that stick with you:
Chloroform the singer who has nothing to say
Stare in wonder as the masses sing along anyway.
Pull apart the actors pretending to grieve
They never went to the funeral, and they never believed.
Shack your burning placard in the government lawns
Have faith that there is consequence in protest songs.
You have to wonder if Hutchinson had Scottish secession on his mind when he wrote those lyrics (Frightened Rabbit were visible supporters of the movement for independence). Regardless, the man has a way with words, and Owl John reaffirms that there’s some real substance under that charming Scottish brogue.
#7
Phantogram, Voices
A pet peeve of the Mitchfork staff is when an EP is released that includes almost all of the best songs of the upcoming album it’s meant to tease. It’s like a movie trailer that gives away pretty much the entire plot in two minutes; leave a little something in reserve! Haim did it in 2012/2013, ensuring their debut LP was always fated to be a bit of a let-down, and Phantogram did in last year on their self-titled, four-track EP, featuring such winners as “Black Out Days,” “The Day You Died” and “Celebrating Nothing.” Fantastic EP (Their 2011 Nightlife EP is even better though), but the shine was off by the time Voices rolled around this year… showcasing those three songs as the main draw. Frustrating stuff. Anyway, Voices is every bit the equal of their debut, Eyelid Movies, albeit with more of an edge. Where there was a delicate, more subdued balance at play before, now there’s lots of bombast. This was especially apparent in concert, where wave after wave of sound washed over the crowd Mitchfork was a part of. Cool at first, then a bit much. Like with the EP/LP dynamic, a little restraint goes a long way.
#6
Haerts, Haerts
Speaking of extended plays that include all the upcoming album’s best songs, Haerts’ 2013 EP Hemiplegia, while not exactly reinventing the wheel of 80s synth pop, regularly found itself in our rotation throughout the year, with “Wings” even being called out as one of 2013’s top songs. Fast forward to this past fall, and guess which song reappeared on their debut full-length, alongside “Hemiplegia” and “All the Days,” two other highlights from their first foray? Suffice to say, we were again left shaking our heads, but who can stay mad for long when listening to songs like these? Sure, tracks like “Call My Name” (our personal favorite), have about ten layers of studio polish and feel like a millennial’s take on a cheesy 80s ballad, sounding somewhere between CHVRCHES and Haim without possessing the heart (pun intended) of either, but that’s no dealbreaker.
That said, as long as you don’t dwell on the boilerplate lyrics, or the nagging feeling that you’ve heard all these songs in varying forms at some point during the last three decades, you’ll have a grand old time. Man, we just realized how bitchy this review is coming off. Look, this album is number six, which means it’s obviously doing some things right, so just enjoy it for what it is. However, if you want to hear this kind of 80s pastiche done even better, we suggest Ladyhawke’s 2008 debut Ladyhawke. Ok, we’ll just stop; we’re only digging our hole deeper.
#5
Caribou, Our Love
The instant we first heard Our Love's lead single “Can’t Do Without You” on John in the Morning (KEXP 90.3 FM. WHERE THE MUSIC MATTERS), we knew Caribou (aka Dan Snaith) had done it again; he’d taken yet another sonic step forward. The progression since 2005’s The Milk of Human Kindness has been remarkable; each new album features a further evolution of his unique brand of “bedroom electronica.” Why did we throw that term in there? Because there’s no denying the pulsing beat of his songs, but they’re perfect fodder for your headphones as you sprawl out on your mattress, spaced out, staring at the ceiling. Also, they’re sexy. No, really, listen to songs like “Second Chance” and tell us that “sexy” isn’t one of first adjectives that comes to mind. Real sexy, not Nicki Minaj “twerkin on Drake” sexy.
Not saying it’s all slinky, seductive sounds, though; tracks like “Back Home” show Caribou is perfectly capable of constructing songs with rousing crescendos that’ll get your pulse racing. Really, looking at Snaith’s trajectory over Caribou’s past few albums, one thing he’s clearly capable of is leading a long, fruitful career where he adds even more layers to his already distinctive musical palette.
#4
Fear of Men, Loom
One reason we at Mitchfork are closing up shop is that it seems like every year we’re relying more and more on old favorites to deliver the goods. Considering how unreasonable it is to expect consistent dividends from any aging creative venture, this is a strategy that has increasingly left us feeling disappointed at the stale state of indie rock. We’re lucky in that this year has provided us not only with known players throwing their weight around, but the arrival fresh faces like Fear of Men.
Loom immediately appealed to us, which is no surprise considering it’s a nice balancing of gorgeous dream pop melodies (ethereal atmosphere, fragile female vocals, gleaming guitars) with a bit of an attitude. On album highlights “Luna,” “Inside” and “Waterfall” there’s plenty of melancholy beauty, but underneath those layers is a scorned lover who has “tried my best to destroy you.” The subtle, barely contained fury at the heart of these songs gives them some added weight when they otherwise might just drift away. There’s real sorrow here, and the fact that it’s wrapped up with such pretty packaging only gives it more legitimacy.
There’s nothing necessarily groundbreaking about what Fear of Men are doing here on this, their debut LP, but they’ve skillfully added some new wrinkles that invite repeated listens. As we made this list, we realized that, throughout 2014, we kept coming back to Loom, and it kept rewarding us when we did. This is no small thing, and bodes well for this British band moving forward.
#3
Cloud Nothings, Here and Nowhere Else
Mitchfork used to have a bit of an aggressive side, and our music tastes reflected that adolescent anger at play. However, the past decade has mellowed us out, diminishing the appeal of the testosterone-laced tunes we used to watch other people mosh out to (we once pushed a guy, but immediately regretted it.) Just listen to the soundtrack to our first book and you’ll hear some distinctive notes of angst, along with the occasional hint of rage. Not saying we’ve lost all of our righteous fury; it’s just harder to tap into.
Which brings us to Cloud Nothings. With 2012’s Attack on Memory, Dylan Baldi and company took a giant step forward, assuming the role of resident “angry band” that we can turn to when we had the urge to RUN THROUGH A FUCKING WALL. In fact, songs like “Wasted Days” reminded us we even had that urge. The sort of epic ferocity reappears on “Pattern Walks,” the nearly eight-minute centerpiece of Here and Nowhere Else, and we’re grateful for it. Really, it was a relief to see success hadn’t smoothed away any of the band’s edges; this is a fact that’s made immediately clear with “Now Hear In,” the charging, take-no-prisoners opening track. The guitars are raw, the drums rampage, frontman Baldi’s voice is as ragged as ever, and none of these things relent over the remaining seven songs, especially on standard bearer “Pyschic Trama.” In conclusion, while we may not possess the same angst we once did, it’s a relief to know that younger folks continue to channel their aggression in compelling yet surprisingly catchy ways.
#2
Real Estate, Atlas
You won’t find any of Cloud Nothings’ edge here, just wistful musings about fading youth and years long lost. Nostalgia infuses every note on Real Estate’s third album, with Martin Courtney IV (The IV? We’ll just leave that there) crooning over lazily strummed guitars on songs like “Past Lives” about how he “Cannot go back to this neighborhood without feeling his old age.” Despite our sincere doubts that Courtney himself is past 30, we’ll refrain from the eye rolls, if only because Real Estate effortlessly capture the feeling of that endless summer day. You know, that day where, even if you’re only 25, you can acutely feel the weight of every year you’ve left behind as the remaining sunlight slowly slips away from you.
There’s no denying it; this is music for the privileged, by the privileged (to be fair, we're assuming this, but Ridgewood, NJ, where the band was formed, has a median household income of more than $100,000). Without taking away from the craftsmanship on display here, or the remarkable progress Real Estate has made over three albums in developing a distinctive sound, this is ear candy for well-educated white people. On one end of the spectrum is the volatile subject matter addressed on the other Fork’s number one album of 2014, Run the Jewels 2; on the other is Atlas, which describes a carefree suburban universe where the main concern is… growing up? Why worry yourself with income inequality, race relations and police brutality when you can drive aimlessly by well-maintained lawns yearning for a time when your only care in the world was how to score booze?
All that said, man, are these songs endlessly listenable. We’d especially like to call out the final two tracks, “Horizon” and “Navigator,” both of which immerse the listener in a dreamy landscape that you never want to depart. Long after the last shimmering guitar note fades away, you’re left with a melancholy residue, a vague feeling that there’s something you’ve left behind that you can never reclaim. It’s no easy feat, conjuring up that longing, but the boys of Real Estate are getting better at it with each successive effort.
#1
Sun Kil Moon, Benji
We were almost ready to give up on Mark Kozelek. The man who possesses, in our humble opinion, the best voice in all of music, seemed to not have much left to say. This was 2010, when the Spanish guitar of Admiral Fell Promises was paired with an increasingly weary, if still compelling, croon. It was a perfectly acceptable entry in a distinguished career that, with both Red House Painters in the 1990s and Sun Kil Moon in the 2000s, had resulted in the development of a signature rock sound that started out heavier but grew increasingly delicate as Kozelek entered middle age. Admiral Fell Promises, while pleasant enough, felt like the work of a man who was resting on his laurels, content to indulge himself as he toured the world in his forties, a shadow of his former creative self.
Looking back, it began with Among the Leaves, his 2012 follow-up. More stylistically varied than its predecessor, the real hint of what was to come was the shift in not just his lyrics, but in how he delivered them. Always introspective, Kozelek’s words now had an added bite, as well as a directness previously unseen. He wasn’t singing as much as talking at you, the listener. The rich timbre of his voice might convince you it was singing, but no, this was closer to beat poetry set to strings and guitars. He was telling you about death, about a venereal disease he picked up, about his life on tour. Here was a middle-aged man who had accumulated some insight in his time, and he was finally ready to share some unvarnished thoughts about his life.
Then came Benji. Those biting observations he had begun to explore in Among the Leaves? They’re weaponized here. There is no escaping that voice and, more importantly, what it has to say. About family he’s lost, in bizarre, horrifying and mundane ways (“Carissa,” “Truck Driver”), devastating tragedies that should never be forgotten (“Pray for Newtown”), and terrifying boogeymen who are all too real (“Richard Ramirez Died of Natural Causes"). Also, there’s a lifetime of sexual encounters recounted, alternatively humiliating, rewarding and educational (“Dogs”). Kozelek wants you to know he loves his parents, will always be hounded by melancholy, isn’t handling aging gracefully and is grateful, not just to be alive, but for all the people in his life who have made his journey worthwhile.
These 11 tracks are, all together, a heartbreaking, humorous, and humbling listen. Beyond the words being spoken is the music itself, which alternates between stripped down and layered, meandering at times and desperate at others. The gently picked guitar becomes something menacing one song later, and the breakdown at the end of “Richard Ramirez Died of Natural Causes” is straight out of The Lonesome Crowded West (that’s the highest compliment we can pay). More than anything though, the music serves as a sturdy and versatile platform for Kozelek’s relentless confessions.
Over 20 years into his musical career, Kozelek has created his magnum opus. We’re pretty sure that realization won’t give him any peace of mind, but it offers us hope that our best creative days are still ahead. Also, the War on Drugs are shit, and we don’t care who knows. Just kidding! What a silly “feud” that was.
That’s it for us. We hoped you enjoyed our sporadic posts over the years, and we’re glad you decided to take the fork less traveled. Enjoy 2015, wherever it may take you, musically or otherwise.
Sincerely,
The Staff of Mitchfork
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