Republican Music Police
Thursday, April 06, 2006
41: Neutral Milk Hotel – In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (1998)
Did anyone hear that cover version of the title track from this album on the OC earlier this season? Some chick singing all melodramatic and slow and completely missing the point. Because, besides from the songcrafting and oft-hilariously offbeat lyrics (see King of Carrot Flowers pt. 2), what makes this album such an exceptional bastion of indie pop is the energy and self-assuredness with which Jeff Mangum carries through every single one of the songs on this album. What whoever covered the song doesn’t really understand is that, although the melody for Aeroplane is truly beautiful, lyrics like “one day we will die/ and our ashes will fly/ from the aeroplane over the sea/ but for now we are young/ let us lay in the sun/ and count every beautiful thing we can see/ love to be” don’t really fly without the manic nasal delivery Mangum lends to nearly every song.
The lady (I) doth protest too much, youthinks about my alleged disinterest in psychedelia after this album, Forever Changes, and Soft Bulletin all appeared within 15 spots of each other, rather high on this “countdown.” But I assure you: what I enjoy about this are the lucid things: the instrumentation, chord progressions, and brief moments of lyrical transcendence, as in King of Carrot Flowers pt 1 when Mangumn sings, “This is the room one afternoon I knew I could love you/ and from above you how I sank into your soul/ into that secret place where no one dares to go/ and your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking/ and dad would dream of all the different ways to die/ each one a little more than he could dare to try.” Or the entirety of
42: A Tribe Called Quest –
Man, you know a hip-hop album’s good when you even like the skits. And I even like the skits on Midnight Marauders. The computer-woman tour guide shtick gets me, and they keep it brief which is nice. It doesn’t hurt that it’s so wholly engrained in my mind with the tracks that surround them. Going from that chopped up computer voice to the horns that begin “Stir It Up (Steve Biko)” is as natural to me as breathing. Likewise with the hilarious, “In this case, we ma-raud to EARS” at the end of Award Tour to Phife Diddo’s hardluck 8 Million Stories. Prince Paul of De La Soul gets all the native tongue press for production but for my money Shaheed makes the better beats. Like all Tribe albums, this one gets a little long, but like all Tribe albums, you can always put it on and get drunk and nod your head for an hour no matter what’s on. And this contains the hugest Tribe songs.
It’s hard to explain the appeal of Tip and Phife as mc’s. I mean, on one level it’s easy – they both have unique and catchy voices and can work the mic. But the way they bounce around tracks is hard to top or quantify. I could transcribe some of Tip’s better work on this album but it wouldn’t jump off the page the way it jumps off the wax. For instance when he “drops it on the angle, acute at that/ do dat do dat do do dat dat dat” it doesn’t seem to be anything genius or when Phife says, in the same song, “back in ’89 I simply slid into place/ buddy buddy buddy all up in your face,” it doesn’t look like much but it blows the fuck out of your eardrums. When Eric B said “MC means Move the Crowd,” Tribe was definitely listening. My ass is shaking just THINKING about this album.
43: Raekwon (the Chef, featuring Ghostface Killah) – Only Built 4 Cuban Linx (1995)
Not that many people realize it, but C. Woods and D. Coles are responsible for gangsta rap the way we know it. Yeah, Kool G Rap was talking about mafioso themes back in the early 90’s, but Rae and Ghost pioneered “drug rap” talking about coke sells and painting a picture of life in NYC reminiscent of Deniro and Pacino movies. And fucking Rae and Ghost knew they had something. After all they dedicate a whole skit (Shark Niggaz [Bitaz]) to warning other mc’s not to “bite their style.” But then again, this was a common theme for the Wu – ODB with his “bite my style, I’ll bite your motherfuckin’ head,” to RZA’s intro to Forever where he talks shit about the whole industry, “we told y’all niggaz back on the fucking Cuban Linx album now everybody wants to change their name,” to rhymes in verses (“Once you heard Wu out of the blue your family’s from Shaolin,” or “half the east coast sounding just like Rae/ if you a gambino, give credit to the flow/ if you not in this shit, kid, act like you know”).
But even despite its undeniable impact (It’s hard to even imagine rappers like NaS or Jigga talking about flippin ki’s and hustlin’ without this album) this album justified its impact by being perhaps the most brilliant Wu solo album. Although the tracks hit sporadically it’s a laundry list of classic fucking Wu-bangers: “Knuckleheadz,” “Incarcerated Scarfaces,” “Guillotinez (Swordz),” “Ice Water”(featuring a classic ass verse from Cappadonna), “Verbal Intercourse” (featuring one of the best NaSty NaS verses known to man), “Ice Cream,” and “Wu Gambinos” which introduced the mafioso alter egos of the Clan that have almost supplanted their rap names (like Tony Starks and Johnny Blaze). All the while, Rza orchestrates a Godfather quality string theme that ties the entire album into the mood. This is what used to make Wu solo’s so great – they were so wound tightly around their theme that they became period pieces. If only rap (and Rza) hadn’t forgotten how fucking hype that can be. “Like a 27-inch Zenith: BELIEVE IT”
44: Weezer – Weezer (Blue Album) (1994)
What can one really say about this album? If you were a kid in the 90’s this album is so firmly engrained in your brain that there’s no getting it out. Hell, even the clunkers on this album are alt-pop classics. And is there any way to overstate the cultural significance this record had? Almost everything on the alt-rock scene today is a pale shadow of Weezer (including Weezer themself). We wouldn’t have the emo movement (for better or for worse) without Weezer. Nor would Hot Topic be in business, most likely. And those fucking glasses!
But enough BAD things about this record. Honestly though, this album, although hardly a great album, had so many good songs, it opened new doors to what an alt-rock album could be. I read an interview with Rivers where he said he’d figured out a mathematical formula to writing perfect pop songs. He was dead serious when he said it (from what I could infer from the article). Obviously this interview was from the Green Album time period, but if he had said it around the Blue Album, I might have believed it. Weezer doesn’t do anything fancy on this record, just churns out 10 songs of about 3 minutes each that are instantly memorable and enduring. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE who owns this album could probably instantly rank the 10 songs and every list would probably be different (with the possible exception that “Holiday”, “Surfwax”, and “In the Garage” would round out the bottom 3) and each person would feel so completely strongly about their list’s ordering that discussion would be fruitless. Honestly, I feel as if it’s superfluous to even talk about songs like, “Say it Ain’t So”, “No One Else”, or “Only in Dreams,” or the b-sides from this era, like “Jamie,” “Suzanne” and “You Gave Your Love to Me Softly.” This album is canonical and its low ranking is only testament to the quality of the albums above it on the list.
45: Nirvana – Nevermind (1991)
Goddamn that baby’s dick. It’s like a solar eclipse – you know you ought not look but nevertheless. . .
Sorry. It’s just that with all the ridiculous claims that have been made about this album, I figured it be better to start this with an inane banality. But let’s talk about some of the bizarre statements about this album. It defined a generation. It killed hair metal. It birthed an entire genre of music. I don’t think a single one of these is true. Each one is close to being true but is not true. However the most ridiculous and bloated and overblown statement I’ve ever heard about this album was in Pitchfork’s top 100 albums of the 90’s list (which has since been taken down, probably because of their embarrassing embarrassment at not having included enough rap albums on the original list, resulting in a second list which gave way too much concession to rap albums). Whoever said it (I certainly can’t go check it, since it doesn’t exist, which brings up interesting postmodern implications about the “reality” of online writing given its almost Babylonian temporality) claimed that (and I paraphrase) “as good as the first half is, the second half might be better.” BUHSQUEEZE me? You have got to be joking. How left of center. How road less traveled.
In case you’re not familiar with the tracklisting of Nevermind (for shame!) the first six tracks are Smells Like Teen Spirit, In Bloom, Come As You Are, Breed, Lithium, and Polly. Heard of any of those. Don’t get me wrong: the second half is very strong as well, and if you know me pretty well, you’d know that Drain You’s probably my favorite Nirvana song. But how can you in any good conscience say any six tracks, particularly the six tracks that round out this album, are better than the hallowed six I just mentioned? Fuck, you probably know every single goddamned word to at least 4 of them, including the mumbling stumbling of Smells Like Teen Sprit (an albino? a mosquito? WHOSE libido?)
Nevertheless, this album deserves all its accolades (even if they are overblown as fuck) but with this caveat: like all “influential” albums (with the exception of the VU’s) this album was great, but for the very reason of how it allowed future bands to build and experiment and improve upon it.
46: UGK – Dirty Money (2001)
Do I really want them to free Pimp C? This is me at my most morbid. Would anyone give a shit about Nick Drake if he hadn’t died? I know people would probably give a shit about Buckley if he hadn’t died, but he sure wouldn’t be a legend (a statement I’m certainly going to regret having made). Cobain, Tupac and Biggie probably would have each put out a string of mediocre albums that tainted their legacy if any of their posthumous singles are evidence.
So what will happen when Pimp C gets out? How can they top this record? This record exemplified everything about the dirty third, without question. Songs about syrup, chopping on blizz, pimpin’, sellin’, turnin’ hoes out. The thing is, what southern lyricists are championed for is is not taking their lyrics too seriously, and certainly Pimp C exemplifies that ideal, but Bun-B can go toe to toe with any “thinking man’s” MC. Think about his verse in “Ain’t That A Bitch,” where he ref’s Chuck D’s classic “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos,” saying, “I got a letter from the government/ the other day/ I opened and read it/ it said ‘FUCK UGK’” or on Chopping Blades where he quips “when I turn my knock up/ and banging my block up/ without picking my glock up /I’m raising my stock up/ I got haters on lock up/ where they slanging rock up/ and banging makaveli 7 – cranking my pac up”.
But Pimp C holds his own as well. You don’t have to be a lyrical genius to rock a mic. And C ain’t too bad. Some of his shit is laugh out loud funny. He takes his turn on Chopping Blades to say “I’m deep up in the streets/ I’m trying to feel my nuts/ and later on I’m a try to skeet it on her butt.” Huh? I beg your pardon?
God I love this album.
47: The Cure – Disintegration (1989)
“Disintegration is the best album ever.” This quote was said to Robert Smith by none other than Stan Marsh of
What’s nice about this album (and at the same time, what keeps it from being higher on this list) is how well it fades into the background. Yeah, all the songs I mentioned are really pretty cool and they all work really well as singles, but this album is just so atmospheric. I mean, they had to trim like three minutes of pap off Pictures of You just to make it a single. This works and it doesn’t. When I’m in the mood for atmosphere very little can beat this. Certainly not Death Cab.
48: Pavement – Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain (1994)
What kind of asshole names their band Pavement? And an American band no less. It’s almost as annoying as when Interpol dropped that “Pavements they are a mess” line in New York Cares. I hate pretentiousness, even if it’s being pretentious in that “throw it to the wall and see if it sticks and it’ll be art and if you say it’s not you’re just unrefined” way that Pavement pulls off so well. Unfashionable cardigans become fashionable, art-house videos become wacky genius, etc. etc. Slacker rock, I guess, before it was even cool to be a slacker. And rock and roll has always been about being cool.
That said, Crooked Rain is a really cool album. This was allegedly going to make Pavement into mainstream stars ( I was only eleven. I’m going off what I’ve read) and almost did because of the undeniable catchiness of “Cut Your Hair.” For indie rockers, I imagine this was a coup over modern rock radio the likes of “She Don’t Use Jelly”. And really, like “Jelly”, “Cut Your Hair” manages to both elevate Pavement’s appeal while staying true to the things that made them likeable in the first place. This album is decidedly poppy, but maintains the esoteric charm that Slanted and Enchanted did so well (n.b. Slanted and Enchanted is not that great an album. This is a topic for another discussion). The pop comes naturally, surprisingly, even the lifting of a Buddy Holly melody as a starting point for the entire album on Silence Kit doesn’t seem false or manufactured (and is a lot cooler than their pirating of Jim Croce on Trigger Cut). And you still get the offbeat references in songs like Range Life, like calling STP elegeant bachelors, marveling at how damn foxy they are. This album more than makes up for how overrated Slanted and Enchanted is, balancing out the forces like Darth Vader or something (however that movie went).
49: Beck – Odelay (1996)
Man can Beck dance. I don’t know if I even understand his moves, but he’s one funky guy. This album is also funky. I don’t know that I really like funk but this album’s funky and that’s a good thing, so perhaps I like funk. The logic must be off though, because I’m fairly sure I don’t like funk. Nevertheless.
Even if you just took the singles and filled the rest of the album with crap this would be a top 100 album. Where It’s At, New Pollution, Devil’s Haircut, and Jackass were all great singles, combining Beck’s nonsense lyrics with tight production and eclectic sampling by the Dust Brothers (this was not the first top 100 album they produced, hint hint). But this album isn’t just four singles scattered haphazardly. It’s also got some pretty cool and varied songs sprinkled around as album cuts. Hotwax, Lord Only Knows, Novocane and High Five (Rockin’ the Catskills) could have probably been singles. Someday I’d like to get my hands on the Becktionary and figure out what the hell this album’s about, but until then, I’ll be content to just forget about caring what it means and just play it loud as fuck in my car.
50: Ghostface Killah – Ironman (1996)
Among all the first wave Wu-Tang solo albums, opinion on this is most divided. That is, some people think it’s criminally underrated, some think it should have been Cappadonna’s album, some think it’s pretty much retreads of singles and filler. I don’t know if I think it’s all that overrated or underrated. It’s definitely had its share of faulty praise and criticism but none of that stuff really matters does it? What really matters is the music (and the wallabies).
Ironman, like most of the first wave solo albums, has its own distinct theme. While Cuban Linx focused on mob movies and tuned its sound to the strings and gangster samples, Ironman focuses on old soul records, replete with brass and dramatic female vocals and samples heavily from 70’s blaxploitation movies. While Cuban Linx opened with a spoken word intro talking about the drug dealing mentality, Ironman opens with a sample of very young black gang members posturing like grown up thugs - “just me and you motherfucker, just me and you,” says a kid who sounds like he’s about eight, “I’ll put trademarks around your fuckin eyes.” Then Rza’s beat drops and we get cop sirens and a driving beat before the inimitable cryptic style of Raekwon hits with “Gambino niggaz who swipe theirs, deluxe rap cavaliers/ niggaz who steal beers? Give ‘em theirs.” A nod to Cuban Linx, Ghost defers to his cohort as a jumpoff to the album. Not to be outdone, Ghost comes with fire from day one dropping one of the hypest verse on the album dropping jewels like, “we upgrade, swallow raw eggs/ read the label/ hittin’ white label/out the winnebago, unstable” – the entire verse leaves your head swimming in rapid-fire rhyme sounds.
Cappadonna also makes his presence felt on this album, dropping one of the most famous verses in Wu-Tang history with his nearly two minute-long gem on “Winter Warz”. One of the most rapid fire string of nonsequitirs I can think of, it has so many quotables it’s hard to quote one without quoting them all, but it includes the anthemic,
“Even if I’m smoked out, I can’t be scoped out/ I’m too ill, I represent park hill/ see my face on a twenty dollar/ cash it in and get ten dollars back/ the fat LP with Cappachino on the wax/ pass it on your thang, crank valve up to 12/ put all the other LPs back on the shelf/ and smoke a blunt and dial 9-1-7/ 1-6-0-4-9-3-11/ and you can get long-dick hip-hop affection/ I damage any mc who step in my direction/ I’m Staten Island’s best son fuck what you heard/ niggaz still talking that shit is absurb/ my repertoire is USSR/ PLO style got thrown out the car/ and ran over by the Method Man jeep/ Divine can’t define my style is mad deep/ like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy/ like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine/ gut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design/ i know you wanna dis me but I can read your mind/ cuz you’re weak in the knees like SWV/ tryin’ to get a title like ‘Wu-Killa Bee’/ kid change your habits/ you know I’m friends with The Abbot/ me and Rza’s rhyme name printed on the tablet under vets/ I paid out debts for mad years/ hibernating sounds, now we out like spears/ and blunt power born physically Power speaking/ the truth in the song be the pro-black teaching.”
Whew. The verse is so replete with divine science, annotating it would be as exhausting as annotating Shakespeare. And Donna is nearly always more interesting than the bard. This album’s got so many quotables, like 5 or 6 classic tracks. Too spotty though to be truly classic.
Archives
January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006
