GBV return to form.
GBV return to form.
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Why put on airs? These lists, whittled down from hundreds of titles, are no attempt to essay the so-called State of Rock 2002 or some other such critical hooey (if you really want to see us put on our pseudo-intellectual pointy-headed caps, feel free to ask for our forthcoming "Pazz & Jop Poll" comments). It's nothing more than a sampling—our personal DJ mix-cum-box sets.
State of Rock-wise, however, it must be said that we're all bone-weary of mainstream radio's version of things, but the bulk of college-radio's indie staples are just as formulaic and lame.
Same goes for all the sad-sack populist hipsters who constantly weigh in on what's wrong with the music biz—you know, the folks who counter the R.I.A.A.'s whining about piracy and CD burning with their own tiresome mantras about high CD prices and shitty tunes. Wake up, you putzes: for every overpriced $19.98 piece-of-crap CD released this year, there were probably 20 great discs—not all of them indies, either—that came in under the 12-buck mark. Sure, you may have to drag your lazy ass away from your Xbox long enough to do some online hunting. You might even have to put down that latte for a few minutes and—gasp!--drive across town to paw through a record store's bins. Imagine that! Kids these days, they want everything handed to them. You remember that line from The Big Chill (yes, that is a frightening reference) about getting older and going out into the world? It applies to being a music lover, too: Nobody every said it was gonna be easy. But the good tunes are out there.
All of which makes us think back to an old episode of I.R.S.' Cutting Edge, the groundbreaking MTV show from the '80s, in which they were profiling R.E.M. At one point, Peter Buck is discussing some of the great underground music of the day, and he turns to look directly at the camera and says: "It's your duty as Americans to go out and find this stuff." Truer words were never spoken. Thanks, Pete.
1. PAUL WESTERBERG
Stereo/Mono
(Vagrant)
No real surprise here. The former Mats mainman puts his kid to bed, grabs a guitar, and heads to the basement, emerging with a pair of albums that perfectly reconcile the twin poles of his personality. From the sublime Stereo to the ridiculous—but always enjoyable—Mono, alt-rock's apostle Paul sets about reminding all the Johnny Rzeznik-come-latelys and wannabe Westerbergs (Ryan Adams, Pete Yorn, etc.) out there that he doesn't need replacing just yet.
2. CHUCK PROPHET
No Other Love
(New West)
With the release of 2000's The Hurting Business, journeyman roots rocker Chuck Prophet reimagined himself as a postmodern-blue-eyed-soul-songsmith-cum-collagist—Tony Joe White meets Kool Keith, if you will. Crafting a sonic bridge between Stax/Volt and the Ultramagnetic MCs, Prophet's new aesthetic found him engaged in adventurous exercises of cut and paste—like marrying the acoustic guitar hook from "Ode to Billie Joe" and the woozy melody of Nilsson's "Coconut" to an mesmeric bed of beats—creating something wholly original in the process. That pattern continues on Prophet's latest, No Other Love—a disc that challenges the senses with a rush of imagistic lyrics and an equally evocative swirl of sound that takes more than a single listen to discern, let alone digest. From jagged Elmore Leonard-inspired narratives to lush romantic stirrings to boogie-folk deconstructions, the album is a clamorous, joyous kitchen-sink record of the first order.
3. GUIDED BY VOICES
Universal Truths and Cycles
(Matador)
After a much-maligned stint in the major label fold, GBV returns to the welcoming arms of mid-'90s indie imprint Matador Records. Less a creative "comeback" than a calculated return to form, Universal Truths and Cycles reaps the sonic lessons of recent studio forays—hi-fi sound, finely honed arrangements, string section interludes. Yet GBV leader Bob Pollard seems intent on ripping from his back pages as well. Listen closely and you can hear echoes of past glories—snatches of everything from '87's embryonic Devil Between My Toes to '95's high-water mark Alien Lanes—crop up in fleeting moments all over UTAC. As such, the new album is a sagacious document that somehow manages to distill the whole of Pollard's vast musical universe—yielding the expected melodic finery without sacrificing any of the beautifully besotted bluster that has made GBV such a compelling live outfit.
4. WILCO
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
(Nonesuch)
If the decade's most analyzed LP had come out as originally scheduled in 2001, it would've undoubtedly laid claim to the title of Album of the Year. As it is, Wilco's avant-pop opus drops a few spots on my list, chiefly because the record's heavily labored mix—completed by sound supremo Jim O'Rourke—doesn't hold up particularly well. (As a forthcoming Wilco EP—featuring alternate versions of several Yankee Hotel Foxtrot tracks—indicates, there are probably several equally good, if not better, versions of the record in the vaults.) In future years it's likely most of us will be reaching for our copies of Summerteeth or Being There rather than YHF. Still, whatever form they appear in, it's impossible to deny the majesty and eerie pre-9/11 prescience of standouts like "War on War" and "Ashes of American Flags."
