2021: Top Ten

10. Du Blonde - Homecoming

Someone has once told me that your favourite album is the one you listen to the most. This seems both obvious and oddly wrong. Too many things are at play here, and while it was interesting to see my end-of-year Spotify list (Will Butler's "Fine" is my most played song in 2021 - go figure), it is inconclusive and merely amusing. Still, I do not think I have listened to any album this year as often as I did Homecoming. And that has to count for something. Witty, underproduced and tuneful. She is such a great songwriter.

Best song: Take One For The Team

9. Arab Strap - As Days Get Dark

This has grown on me quite a lot, to the extent that I can safely say that As Days Get Dark is one of Arab Strap's absolute best. Late-night music with devastating lyrics sung in that unmistakable Scottish accent. "Tear On Tour", "Here Comes Comus!" and "Just Enough" are all classics. My personal favourite, though, is the breathtaking and utterly mesmerising ballad called "Sleeper". Haunting stuff.

Best song: Here Comes Comus!

8. Sloppy Jane - Madison

I would like to tweak the analogy I made in my full-length review of this album. Imagine that after recording all that Boys Next Door crap in late-70s Nick Cave jumped right into the songwriting depth of The Boatman's Call. I do not mean to say that Sloppy Jane's early stuff was quite that bad. And I do not mean that this is as good as The Boatman's Call. But you have to hear this one. And I could not care less if this was recorded in a cave or at the bottom of the ocean. These songs are slightly blasphemous, slightly cynical - but oh so pretty. 

Best song: The Constable

7. Luke Haines - Setting The Dogs On The Post Punk Postman 

Traditionally, Luke Haines is on this list. Setting the Dogs may not be his best (or even one of his best), and there is a feeling that he has been favouring quantity over quality of late, but this is still Luke Haines we are talking about. One of the greatest songwriters in the game. A rather diverse collection of songs, and not everything works, but as long as he can give us those two glorious minutes of "Landscape Gardening"... Excellent little album.

Best song: Landscape Gardening

6. Nick Cave & Warren Ellis - Carnage

It is difficult to remember now, ten months after its release, but this collaboration (sharing the title with the great Yasmina Reza play) was something of a surprise. Carnage was not an atmospheric soundtrack to a movie you will never see - rather, it was a fully realised album with vocals and evocative imagery. At times difficult and at times delicate, this is a work of two masters who just love working together.

Best song: White Elephant

5. Jim Bob - Who Do We Hate Today?

I actually found out about Jim Bob's album (second in as many years) three weeks ago. As it turned out, Who Do We Hate Today? was released back in August to little critical attention. Which is a shame, because this is almost as tuneful and deliciously sardonic as last year's Pop Up Jim Bob. The melodies are first rate ("Song For The Unsung" is especially good), his lyrical wit is intact, and this recent rejuvenation is continuing. 

Best song: Song For The Unsung (You're So Modest You'll Never Think This Song Is About You)

4. John Murry - The Stars Are God's Bullet Holes

Ever since I first heard "Southern Sky" all those years ago, I have been a fan. And while I do not really see him topping The Graceless Age (who could?), this is another beautifully grim chapter in the largely depressing story of John Murry. His outlook on life is evident in the title, and the songs are this familiar combination of raw emotion and tortured elegance. The cover of "Ordinary World" is a rare misstep.

Best song: Time & A Rifle

3. Saint Etienne - I've Been Trying To Tell You

This album is special to me in the sense that I never even liked Saint Etienne all that much. And then, all of a sudden, the acoustic rhythm underpinning "Music Again" seemed so moving and so gorgeous that I found the whole thing utterly hypnotic and addictive. I've Been Trying To Tell You is built on 90s samples and nostalgia, and while 90s pop hits mean little to me, the nostalgia part is irresistible.

Best song: Music Again

2. Kiwi Jr. - Cooler Returns

My tradition is to buy the album of the year on vinyl, and this time it simply had to be Cooler Returns. I loved their debut LP but this one was even more accomplished. The album sounds like all those great Flying Nun bands from the 80s, melodic, infectious, full of charisma. The hooks are enormous, and songs like "Maid Marian's Toast" and "Waiting In Line" are glorious additions to your collection of heavenly pop hits.

Best song: Waiting In Line

1. Aeon Station - Observatory

Best albums of the year should not really be released in December, but then this was a special case. And no, this is not quite as good as that fourth album by The Wrens. The problem is, the fourth album by The Wrens will never be released and so the whole thing is entirely in your imagination. This one is not. Observatory is real. And it is bloody good. 

Best song: Fade

Another Christmas Song

"Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and chanters warming.
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere
Even if you've never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part of you
That might be the old man calling me."

This one always has me in bits. Truly there is no Christmas without this song. 

Album of the Month: OBSERVATORY by Aeon Station

Let's say you want to buy a two-room apartment in Manhattan. The real estate agent has been telling you for months about this amazing piece of property in East Village that you are absolutely going to love. There is just a small issue that keeps the apartment from going on the market - but, really, the place is yours. It isn't cheap (what is in Manhattan?) but you are fully invested in the project. You are obsessed. There is a decent place in Chelsea but it is East Village that you want. The problem is, there is a new issue every month, and the apartment is elusive, and you are getting desperate. In fact, you are starting to look elsewhere until one day you get an unexpected phone call from the agent telling you that the apartment will never go on the market. There is, however, another offer. It is the one you should jump on. Actually, it is the only offer that you are going to get: two one-room apartments, one in Williamsburg and the other one in Bronx. Two of them go for the price of one in East Village. And you really have to live somewhere. You are exhausted, and you take what you are offered. What else is there to do anyway?

But you know what - I am okay with these two one-room apartments. Fuck it. At this point in time, I might actually prefer it this way. They are both great apartments. And also, this whole East Village thing - was it not some utopian dream anyway? 

I guess some context should be provided here. However, I am absolutely not going to do it. I have done it multiple times. The fact of the matter is, the story of The Wrens' fourth LP might finally be over. The resolution is bitter and unsatisfying, but I am willing to take it. I am even willing to understand Kevin Whelan who got sick of waiting for Charles Bissell and decided to release his songs under the name of Aeon Station behind Bissell's back. It was a contemptible thing to do no doubt, and the rift may never be healed, but what was he supposed to do? It's been years. It's been more than a fucking decade. So now, instead of the follow-up to The Meadowlands, we get two albums. One is Whelan's (now). The other one Bissell's (soon*). 

The symbolism of the album cover is almost too direct, but the sentiment had to be expressed. Kevin Whelan knows full well that this is not it. We all know that. However, I would argue that what matters the most is the quality of this album. You may be asking the question we all wanted to ask the moment we heard about this record: was it written and recorded by someone responsible for The Meadowlands? The answer to that question is a resounding yes. It was. From the sweet and short opener and down to every emotionally charged crescendo you will find on Observatory - this is, indeed, a beautifully crafted collection of songs that you could well imagine on that impossible LP #4. I am sure that Charles Bissell's involvement could make these songs even better - but let us talk about what we actually have here. 

"Leaves", "Fade", "Queens" and "Air" all have classic Wrens buildups, irresistible vocal hooks and intense arrangements. The second part of "Fade" is just phenomenal. The other songs are somewhat less complex but that is not necessarily a bad thing. "Empty Rooms" and the closing "Alpine Drive" are striking, disarming and just plain beautiful. Think "Thirteen Grand" but with a little less mystery about it. The two songs I found slightly underwhelming here are the rather straightforward pop-rocker "Everything At Once" (still good though, and instrumentally quite clever) and the super stripped-down ballad called "Move" which is lovely but brittle. 

Will the appearance of this album release the demons and lead to more album by Aeon Station (apparently, 'aeon' is a reference to how long it took to put these songs out)? Will it make Charles Bissell release his own solo album next year or at some point in time? God knows. I'm not holding my breath, obviously. For the time being, I am just happy that we got a chance to hear these ten songs. Because they are amazing. You knew they would be.

*Yeah I know.

RECOMMENDED THIS MONTH:

*Aeon Station - Observatory* 

Nils Frahm - Old Friends New Friends

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Barn

Про Одессу. Аркадия.

Я всегда хотел жить в Аркадии. Мне казалось, что именно оттуда открывается лучший вид на старую Одессу. Ту, что я помню из рассказов Бабеля, фильма "Зеленый фургон" и первого приезда сюда около десяти лет назад. Аркадия. Я полюбил само это слово, и с удовольствием думал про итальянские названия улиц и зеленые парки у дома. Про тенистые террасы на тротуарах и про одинокие одесские трамваи, вальяжно гремящие до самого Французского бульвара или даже до улицы Бунина. Мое воображение рисовало камерный уют, и я забывал, конечно, что Аркадия - это утопия, и я никогда не увижу ее такой, какой она представляется на борту самолета.

И все же именно сюда мы приехали ровно год назад, в высокий дом на улице Генуэзской. На узком тротуаре и с мертвым парком середины декабря, где ветер гулял нараспашку и дождь лил не переставая. Какой страшный шок испытал бы Константин Паустовский, ровно сто лет назад описавший эти места как пустыню, заселенную старыми дачами и деревенскими домами. Теперь же мы увидели бесконечные столбы дорогих многоэтажек (дорогих, но падающих в цене), где в широких лифтах на лоснящемся от глянца экране Аркадию продают как сбыточную мечту. По одну сторону Генуэзской сорокалетние мужчины в спортивных штанах скупают миланские костюмы за пять тысяч евро, а по другую сторону женщины в шубах не замечают официантов и, глядя в телефон, заказывают раф на миндальном молоке. И все это под аккомпанемент ветра, который вылетает из каждого уличного фонаря. Нет, я не люблю Аркадию.

Я совершенно безразличен к некоторым районам Одессы (к поселку Котовского, например, или к Фонтанам), но Аркадию я не люблю со страстью, с придыханием, со знанием дела. Она утопает в пробках. Она отделена от моря частными дворами и грязными узкими тропинками. Она безлична и чванлива. Но хуже всего - она бездушна и невнятна, и мне совершенно непонятна ее популярность. Так что мы уехали из Аркадии так же спешно, как и въехали в нее. Собрали вещи, сели в такси, и оказались на других улицах и, наверное, в другом городе. В той Одессе, которую можно рассмотреть в окне.

И все же временами хотелось вернуться в Аркадию (наверное, в этом и состоит весь смысл утопии - ты не был в ней, и все же тебе так отчаянно хочется вернуться). Возможно, мы что-то упустили и чего-то недопоняли. Возможно, заказывали не тот чай. Смотрели не в ту сторону и шли по несолнечной стороне улицы. Возможно, просто была плохая погода. И вот в начале августа мы выбрали особенно ясный день, запрыгнули в трамвай на Французском бульваре и отправились в Аркадию. Трамвай гремел и брызгал электричеством, мы проехали ботанические сады (в Одессе их два) и санатории, полусоветские рестораны и зеленые парки, и оказались наконец на улице Генуэзской. Все здесь было по-старому. Люди, машины, узкие тротуары. Все было по-старому до такой степени, что даже солнце перестало светить. Набежали тучи, и полился дождь - истерический, неуемный, единственный за все лето.

Мы спрятались в кафе, где решили переждать этот страшный потоп. Прошел час. Затем другой, затем третий. Дождь все не переставал, и в какой-то момент Аркадию полностью затопило. Казалось, вода понемногу подбиралась к дверям кафе, и я все смотрел на недопитую чашку эспрессо на столике террасы. Ее оставил убегающий посетитель, и в какой-то момент дождевая вода полностью вытеснила остатки кофе. Оставалась только прозрачная жидкость, готовая в любой момент растворить фарфор, дерево и асфальт. Ливень усиливался, и Аркадия уплывала все дальше. Внутри кафе было около десятка человек, каждый из которых пил холодной чай и пытался есть круассан как можно медленней. Слева от меня сидела семья, и мама объясняла семилетнему сыну, что дождь скоро закончится и они уйдут. Сын не слышал. Он безутешно смотрел в окно и ничего не говорил. В какой-то момент мама сказала ему: "Подумай, но это же ведь так здорово! Это приключение". 

"Нет, мама", серьезно сказал мальчик. "Это не приключение. Это дождь". 

Michael Nesmith (1942-2021)

With a green wool hat and bushy sideburns, Mike Nesmith was the least likely member of the Monkees. Somehow, his goofiness seemed less goofy, and the deep voice and remarkable songwriting talent made him such an intriguing personality. "Listen To The Band", "Topioca Tundra", "You Just May Be The One", "Circle Sky". Those songs are timeless. Also, if there is something that could rival the genius of The Ronettes' "Be My Baby", surely it has to be The Stone Poneys' "Different Drum". Written by no other than Michael Nesmith. Rest in peace.