Top 10 Albums
Produced by Blueprint, Sharkbolt is full to the brim with classic R&B samples, bar-banging hooks, and a just the right ratio of kick-snare-hi-hat to be an actually great hip-hop record and more than merely a faddish head bobber. Envelope has shaved some of the locally esoteric content off his lyrics and served up even more widely accessible themes, though his usual self-depreciating, confused by love, coolly comical and bullshit free attitude is as solid as ever.
Not merely a Coachwhips spin-off, Thee Oh Sees cut through that legacy of superfuzz by playing guitar like playing with knives: choppy, jerky, but still sharp and clear. The majority of the record is paranoid-for-having-fun danceable backyard crunch, but the two slow-ish tracks show a Krautrock side that is perfectly complimented by their keen grasp of vocal harmony.
This record is not garage rock; Dan Melchior Und Das Menace is a different beast. If you could imagine the dirtiest blues sound the Stones managed to create with the weirdest song ideas that only Melchior could wring out of his overactive mind, you might have an idea of how good this record sounds.
The drummer, Dean Allen Spunt, hunches over his snare drum as he stomps his foot on the bass pedal. Randy Randall, the guitarist, stands on top of an amp thrashing down on his SG. The sound explodes as Spunt throws his arm into the ride cymbal and leans up to the mic to sing. A two-piece band should not sound this big, not in person behind a cantina in Texas. No Age can pull off the full breadth of the atmospheric sound from the record and translate it into an ear contusion of a live show.
The past few years, as '70s psych bands like Can and Amon Duul have seen a resurgence in popularity, Oneida finally seems to fit into a category that straights can recognize—at least the ones that shop at Urban Outfitters. Leave it up to the Brah Records boys to peel off this alleged one-third of a trilogy and make it as easy to listen to as the Sirens from the Odessey and nearly as hard to take off the turntable.
Is it a clear path to follow from psychedelic aural assault to bittersweet cherubic hymns? If it wasn't before, it's completely evident that J. Spaceman has tread the trail, clear cutting all the overgrowth to create a wide berth for the rest of the Brit-rock youngsters to fit through. If this record wasn't spiritual enough, the show in Chicago had me on my knees from two baseball fields away.
There is no "The Rat" or "We've Been Had" or even "Lost In Boston" on this record. As a matter of fact, I would be hard pressed to pick a radio single out of these songs because it plays like a long player should—just right, all the way through. It starts moody, it gets a little high-strung, it eases back into relaxed, then works its way through pleading, sorrow, resignation, growth, and then change. You And Me is a record about adults made by adults and aimed toward adults in 2008, and I'm sure that in the future it will sound just as refreshing as it does familiar, like learning an old friend who'd moved away long ago still thinks the same as you do.