Slacker 2011, and what it means to us.

At the advent of my sophomore year of high school, I vividly remember my world cultures teacher screening Dazed and Confused for the class. In retrospect, I don't think we were baffled so much as ready to blank out mindlessly to something that didn't involve any kind of traditional sequence of education; the first two weeks of the standard high school year can prove draining to a 16 year old who just had the first real summer of their young adult life. As I was coming down, getting to sift through Dazed was sort of a cleansing of the palette. In retrospect, I think the instructor knew what he was doing, and kind of used that movie to segue into his style of teaching.

The director of that film, Richard Linklater, made his debut in 1991 with the now legendary cult favorite Slacker, a scrappy, grainy swan song that portrays Austin as an artistic blank canvas, with characters that in one way or another are all confined within the walls of some kind of personal or social purgatory. While watching you almost can't help but feel isolated; a continuous pan of sometimes awkward, sometimes angry, and often funny interactions with conspiracy theorists, trust-fund flunkies, and old man anarchists that would rather just talk a criminal trying to rob his house down than call the police. It comes to a literally dizzying decrescendo, much as dazed did, it's the perfect endpoint for a film that was trying to capture a time and place as a cultural aesthetic. If dazed perfectly exemplified late 70's middle class suburban kids' closeted desires, Slacker works simultaneously as the antithesis of those same desires, as if the dreams of those characters were left unfulfilled-all of the sudden, it's the 90's and people are dissident, lethargic, and complacent, but still somehow spirited and unrelenting. This might be the most captivating aspect of the film, that it kind of expresses a positive, uplifting message in a really backhanded, convoluted way.

In lieu of Slacker's 20th anniversary, some of the finest filmmakers in Austin got together and came up with a remake treatment that boasts 24 different directors-each assigned to a key scene of the film, in an attempt to see how it would translate to 2011's Austin. Not the blank artistic landscape it was in '91, It seems that we're all intrigued at how this time-capsule of a project will pan out, myself included. It's been a long, rough, hot summer, Austinites. I think we could all use a little palette cleansing. The new school year is starting. It might not be time to blank out, but to see how art can transcend time-Even if just for a couple of hours.

Slacker 2011 premiers wednesday at the Paramount Theatre here in Austin.

Beats, Rhymes, and Life.

About 2 months ago, I noticed my facebook news feed bombarded with people doing the "30 day song challenge". Since it had to do with music/songwriting, It caught my eye. It's pretty basic, within the course of 3o days, you pick out a song every day based on whatever criteria the "challenge" calls for, i.e; your favorite song, a song you hate, a song by your favorite band, etc. many of the criterion were basic, subjective, or juvenile at first but began to get a tad bit more complex as the days went on. (For the record, I still haven't done it, the rules are contained in a facebook fan page you can "like" if you so desire) One of the day's criteria is to name a song that reminds you of your childhood. I immediately came to this:

If we go back in time, the best place to stop the Mental delorean would be the summer of 1991. I kept seeing videos for "Check the Rhime" and, if I recall correctly, "Buggin Out" on Yo! MTV Raps. My musical tastes were just starting to develop, and I had for one reason or another embraced hip hop as my go-to genre. When I heard the song embedded therein, the warm, ephemeral horn refrain, the echo-y snare, the rhymes, ...It changed my life. I hadn't heard anything like it up to then, and I'm not yet convinced there's ever going to be another piece of music that'll make me feel the way I did the first time I heard this song. I wanted to go to linden boulevard and rock starter jerseys w/ tip and phife. Record company people were shady. The marriage between old and new was somehow subtle and understated while creating a sense of urgency at the same time; The Low End Theory as a whole seemed to beckon a "This is our time" call. I always knew this but I don't really think I knew how to say what I've just said until now. The timing couldn't be better. Michael Rappaport's doc Beats, Rhymes, and Life hits the streets in just a few short days, as it's set to premiere here in Austin on July 29th.

When I take my seat around midnight next friday morning, It'll all come full-circle. Not just my love for Tribe, but my love for Hip-Hop, not as genre but as an artform. For definition, not just of the music we love but of the childhood/adolescence/adulthood of the dude writing this blog post; It's a heavy-handed statement to say that tribe made me who I am, but as I look at the screen next week it'll be every bit as reaffirming.

-Marty.

The NHL's biggest problem may be that it has no problems at all.

Game 5 of the Stanley Cup Finals aired this past friday night on NBC. As I got home, with about 12 minutes to go in the Second period, I was surprised that, A) Roberto Luongo was still playing net for the Canucks, and B) the score was still 0-0. If you're friends with me on facebook or follow me on twitter, you know that I've recently jumped on the Vancouver Canucks bandwagon. My usual NHL standby, the Detroit Red Wings, broke my heart yet again by making an early exit from the postseason, and after watching the Canucks dismantle the San Jose Sharks in the Western Conference Finals, (who have played foil to the wings the last two years) I started paying attention.

Looking at a team like the Canucks, it's kind of hard not to like them; they're an exciting team to watch. Their Marquee stars are twin brothers who look like bearded cyborgs that were manufactured to play the game of hockey. (Think "Strange Brew" meets "Universal Solider") Their keeper is one of the best in the league, even taking in to consideration his transgressions in the Blackhawks series, not to mention games 3 and 4 of the Cup finals. They have cool looking blue and green uniforms. They have a loyal, dedicated fanbase that travels with them. Not since Pavel Bure slapped on the #16 jersey has there been this much excitement in this western canadian metropolis that's known for semi-legal weed, failed NBA franchises, and ferry boats.


They also have the perfect foil in the Boston Bruins, who play as rough and tumble as the working class city that bears the emblem on the center of their chests. Timmy Thomas is a renaissance man between the pipes, Zdeno Chara is an electrifying defenseman, and Mark Recchi is one of the best veteran faces in the league. They represent Boston as hard-nosed ambassadors to an already hard-nosed game; even if Ben Affleck and Matt Damon aren't sitting rinkside.


Outside of the series itself, the game of hockey has several selling points. Pageantry, tradition, action, athleticism, and drama. like any other sport, there's tons to talk about in the locker room and at the press conference post game. We've seen Aaron Rome nearly end Nathan Horton's career in game 3, followed by the implosion of Roberto Luongo in said game AND game 4. Also, no blog post about the cup finals would be complete without the mention of Timmy Thomas and his "Stick Work".

The problem is...This is IT. the end all, be all, as it may, hockey is a sport in it's most continent form. It's free from outside distraction for the most part. The players, even the stars, aren't "juicing" or trying in any way to enhance their performance, outside of being in the best physical condition possible. The "old fashioned" "Babe Ruth did it on steak and potatoes" way, if you want to get somewhat technical. There aren't reality shows based on the lives of them nor their vapid, one dimensional wives. They're a bunch of dudes that have beards and talk with northern accents. They're from places like Halifax, Kamloops, and Brampton. You have to go to websites like Deadspin to dig up dirt on some of these guys, and even those stories are few and far between, and even still, THOSE stories aren't really that shocking.

The way I've decided to approach sports journalism is simple; I want to draw paralells between professional/amateur athletics and society. How it reflects on us as a people and how it plays in to something bigger. Everyone is fixated on the other side of the story so much that it's pushed a sport like hockey into a niche, almost boutique audience. The funny thing is, the sport didn't really do much to alienate it's fanbase; Outside of a labor dispute that postponed the 2004-2005 season, the league and the players didn't really ask for this de facto pop culture re-alignment. The paradigm just shifted.

We all want something we can sink our teeth into, and, for the most part, the only thing palpable here is the action itself. That's enough for me, but it's just not enough to draw most americans in. If we can't pick up the newspaper and see what charges they've been brought up on, or how much their wives spend on dog food on a reality show, then we can't see investing our time. We want something Nebulous and all-engrossing, so we can feel like we connect with them. In a strange way, I kind of understand, and sympathize with this disposition. I just don't think it's all that's out there.

So, SHOULD you watch NHL hockey?

I'll let you answer that question.

-Marty.

Did you miss me?

Issac thinks you did. He stands accused.

Seriously, though, what's been going on, people? I've been spinning lots of records, drinking a lot of Real Ale, eating a lot of pizza, and, you know, other stuff. Oh, I forgot, #Hashtagging on twitter like it's MY JOB.

The Atlanta Hawks are up on the Magic, 3-1, Chris Paul is doing his best to single-handedly dismantle the Lakers, (with a little help from Trevor Ariza) and the Knicks are flopping like a trout trying to swin against the current. While at work last week, I caught snippets of game 1 of the Bulls-Pacers series, to which I exclaimed "the Pacers made the playoffs?" I was dumbfounded. I immediately consulted the resident NBA expert in my world, a one Coby Lee Gleason. His retort to my query "How did the pacers make the playoffs?" went something like this:

"Marty, c'mon. they play in the eastern conference."

Fair enough, Cobster. I guess Derrick Rose has to fillet some lowly Eastern Conference team on the way to the next round. Hopefully they'll meet the Heat, D Rose will somehow get into a fight w/ Dwayne Wade, and Lebron and Chris Bosh will hold each other post-game in the locker room while this song plays:




Maybe they'll find some type of solace in being surrounded by Keyboards. In other Miami Heat-related news, I don't see the fire in Lebron's eyes anymore. Maybe it's that he's trying to gel w/ other superstars, or maybe he's still bitter about the media taking a huge dump on his face (see prior AGC post). The NBA playoffs are always an uncompromising saga of super stardom, Phil Jackson's buddism, Kobe's knees, crazy tattoos, and the highest level of basketball you can possibly see ANYWHERE. Even though the Lakers are trying to shake off the NOLA Hornets, you can bet somebody in their camp somewhere is busting kneecaps to get Dwight Howard in a Lakers uni come 2011-12. and you thought WWE wrestling was a soap opera. Look at what happened w/ 'Melo.

Ok, ok, I haven't only been cracking-out on playoff NBA B-ball, I've also been spinning tons of records. A few weeks back, I was digging at one of my favorite spots in town, Breakaway Records up on north loop. The help was spinning some raw soul-funk type stuff. I noticed the tune was the sample the Geto Boys' used in "My Mind is Playin' Tricks on Me" ...turns out it was an Issac Hayes cut dubbed "Hung up on my Baby", but it also turns out that brooklynites the EL Michels Affair did a whole album of Issac Hayes covers that is straight up RAW. Then, the help put on the next El Michels record, dubbed "Enter the 37th Chamber" in which they re-translated a bunch of Wu-Tang beats with live instruments. I was sold. I've bought every El Michels record I could get my hands on, and have considered paying upwards to $40 on ebay for Sounding Out the City, which is full of EMA original cuts, on LP. This track is the crown jewel on said LP:





Great stuff. The lo-fi production and horns make this sound like it was made in the late 60's.

In short, get off your ass, get outside and enjoy the sunshine when you can, when you come back inside, watch some NBA playoff bball whilst spining El Michels Affair records. I can't really give anything else my endorsement right now, in fear of a pending lawsuit. Dear Andrea B, I'm glad you've passed the bar. I might need to enlist your services. (Jokes.)

Keep it real, ATX and beyond.

-Marv.

Turn down the HEAT....

Does anyone ever remember a time when the media reported in a clear, concise, and unbiased manner? When ESPN set up shop in Bristol in the late 70's, were the producers a bunch of fresh out-the-joint college kids who were still a little wet behind the ears, naive to the ways of the world and unaffected by any kind of influence?

Probably not. I wasn't really around, in any kind of journalistic capacity anyway, back then, but I find it a little hard to believe, that, if John Madden walked into the Raiders' locker room after a tough loss, and found Ken Stabler and Fred Biletnikoff letting the waterworks fly, a media frenzy would ensue. Had that happened, it would've been '72-'73. Those cats probably went to the bar and pounded cold Pabst Blue Ribbon after a tough loss.

In the 70's, and even the 80's....Sports media wasn't as polished and didn't really resemble tradtional news. Uncharted territory began to be overcome by the pirate ship that is the new guard in sports media. Back in the 90's, a time I like to pleasantly refer to as the "When Stuart Scott had two good eyes" era, We began to see professional/college sports covered a little differently. Once the modern age was ushered in by higher ratings, Scandal began to erupt. It shook the very foundation on which the sports we loved were at their core. Mark Mcgwire happened. Jose Canseco happened. Barry Bonds happened. The veil was lifted and we began to see professional athletes for who they were. Mortals who fail, and make mistakes. Mistakes=ratings. ratings=ad revenue. Ad revenue=profits. (insert earlier post about Cam Newton here).

So here we sit, with The Miami Heat suffering a crippling loss in the waning seconds of Sunday's matchup vs. Derrick Rose and the once again on top of things Chicago Bulls. Ol' "new guard media" has been anything but kind to the 2010-11 Miami Heat. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems as if positive highlights in reference to Miami's season have been few and far between.

So, let's be objective, for just one second. I'm no expert, far from it. What I do know, is that Miami's record this year is 43-20. They're WELL over .500 and will surely make the playoffs. They lose some close games, everyone at ESPN is up their asses with contempt. When head coach Erik Spoelstra took to the mic at the post game PC he looked like a beleaguered coach that was at the helm of a team who had won 15 games all season, not the coach of a team that's in 3rd place in the Eastern conference. Soon after facing the media, he admitted, he saw some guys crying in the locker room.

Enter "Crygate"; an eruption of discussion about when, and even if it's ok to show emotion in the realm of pro sports. Why guys do it, why guys don't do it, etc. It seems that there was some pretty healthy debate going on, as ESPN would start to run B-roll of Terrell Owens crying after Tony Romo blew another cowboys' post season.

So why were some of Miami's players crying on Sunday? was it because they got crapped on by the spurs last week, then lost a barn-burner to the Bulls? No. it's because the likes of ESPN has built this team up, only to tear them down. They weren't crying because they had some tough losses, they were crying because the media has spared them no expense.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a time when the powers that be weren't trying to sell a product, weren't trying to garner attention or ratings, a time when simpler people played a simpler game and the programmers in Bristol weren't in the business of soul sucking for the means of selling car insurance and tickets to the movie Battle: Los Angeles. We'll never, ever live in that world again, this much I know. But, when you see humans, being human for once, think for 30 seconds about where it came from. You might be surprised at the lack of complexity.

-Marty.

The Grammys, The Suburbs, and the state of popular music.

These days, the Grammys' are a pretty by-the-numbers event. The old guard still tries to kick the dead horse that is the music business. They prop up who's still standing with lavish performances, call some fogies out of retirement, pay tribute to those who've passed, and usually, hand out most of the awards to whatever Hip Hop and Pop country act is selling. The results are what you would think, and they tend to be less memorable than the crappy wheel of death sandwich you got from the breakroom at work. It gives you heartburn, makes you a little uncomfortable, and leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

To say this year's Grammys' were any different would still be a stretch. When I heard that the Arcade Fire was going to play towards the end of the broadcast, also after seeing the Avett Brothers/Mumford and Sons/Bob Dylan actually make something incredibly memorable, I started to kind of clamor for Justin Bieber to have a "WTF" moment as soon as Win Butler and co. took the stage.

Usually, the likes of the AF, (and bands like them) don't really crash the party so much as stand to the side as the Eminems' of the world roll down the red carpet and pile up the hardware. Sure, you have a "best alternative record" category, but i'm pretty sure the presentation of said award doesn't even make the live broadcast. Austinites, Grupo Fantasma, won best Latin album and I heard about it at like 3:30 in the afternoon Austin time; which means they probably had the presentation at like 1:00.

So here we sit, with The Suburbs; AF's concept-driven, magnum opus. Personally this was my favorite album of 2010. After ripping through "Month of May", with fervor, moxy, and kids riding bikes around the stage, it was time for Babs and Kris Kristofferson to present the award of the night. Nonimated for best album amongst Lady Gaga, Eminem, Katy Perry, and some other stuff that had million dollar ad-machines behind it, We kind of all knew what was gonna happen next.

And then, what we thought was going to happen, didn't.


The Suburbs won album of the year.

These people don't show up on TMZ. their faces aren't plastered on every publication sitting on the newsstand. They don't have a 3-D movie coming to theaters soon, that dissects their "live show". AF sells records, and they do consistently play larger venues, but they're far from being a household name. Everyone, including the members of the band themselves, were taken aback by the academy's decision.

This isn't just a victory for an indie band, or indie culture; it's a victory for all of us. Music is starting to matter again. Real music, made by real people, who have real, tangible ideas and let the content, not the kind of hairspray they use, do the talking. They humbly accepted the award, then, did just that; they took the stage, picked up, and played "Ready to Start".

The Suburbs winning album of the year is a bit of a microcosm of the world we live in; The information age is beginning to morph into an age which WE can decide the future. WE can be creative, WE can make things happen. What happened on Sunday night spoke not for those who stand on a pedestal, detached from the space that we share, but for a community of humans who want to not shine a light on what divides us but what can bring us closer together. 2011 is an exciting time to be alive, kids.

Embrace it.


-Marty.

Against Me! has Nervous Energy.

If you've followed any branch of "indie" or "punk" music, you've probably at least heard the name Against Me! somewhere along the lines. the northern florida punkers who made some great records early on, then managed to somehow alienate half of their fanbase by signing to a major label after they said they wouldn't. We live in trying times, people....Musicians have to make a living too.

Lineup changes plagued AM! around 2007 or so, with longtime drummer Warren Oakes jumping ship to open a restaurant back in Gainesville. Hot Water Music's George Rebelo was soon enlisted to jump behind the kit and record/tour with AM! As fate would have it though, George's commitments w/ HWM soon began to again make themselves known. Somehow Jay Weinberg (son of E Street Band stickman and late night band leader, Max Weinberg) found his way into the lineup and he'll be rocking behind the kit as Against Me! begins to tour. Jay is hittin' the skins hard in this vid, and so it appears that he's more than suitable to be the next in a revolving door of drummers. Let's just hope he doesn't go all "This is Spinal Tap" on thangs.

Against Me! plays Emo's here in Austin on January 26th, 2011.

-Marty.


"Nervous Energies" is a video series done by an extremely talented rock photographer named Ryan Russell. You can look at his photos here:

http://www.ryanrussell.net/

Nervous Energies youtube channel:

http://www.youtube.com/user/nervousenergies

Sink, War Eagle, Sink.

This past Monday 1/10/11, I watched the BCS national championship game with my roomates here in Austin. As allegations swirled abound Cam Newton, he managed to go for 262 yards in the air, passed for two touchdowns and ran for about 65 yards. He also gave up a fumble and an interception. While his performance may not have been as showstopping as those earlier this season, it was still stellar for a national championship contest and he was still a whole lot of fun to watch.

Football aside, we all know how much scandal has encompassed this cat's persona since he strapped on an Auburn Tigers #2 Jersey. The Cliffs notes basically come out something like this: his dad tried to get Mississippi State to bascically "buy" him, he also stole a laptop while a freshman at the University of Florida. (he was charged and later sentenced to an inclusion program.)

People are talking. Newspapers are selling. Sportscenter has it's highest ratings EVER. Scandal in NCAA division I athletics is something people can sink their teeth into, and for good reason. It's easy to point fingers, "THEY BROKE THE RULES, BOO!!" But people, lets be realistic. We would all like to think that incredibly talented athletes, and those who surround them, (i.e. friends, family) are people that piss integrity and have larger than life morals, not to mention believe in doing the right thing all the time. I mean, they should, shouldn't they?

Honestly, yes, doesn't mean they're not human. If I'm Cecil Newton, and I have a bartering chip of a son who's a five star juco transfer QB, I play those chips. Especially if I need the money. Who are we kidding here kids? This kind of crap happens EVERY DAY with D1 recruiting. Hell, when I was at UD I remember overhearing a rumor of a basketball recruit's family getting their mortgage paid off in exchange for their son playing the high post for the Flyers. If you think every blue chip athlete and their families are squeaky clean church-goers, then you're just as naive and gullible as the major media makes you out to be. (sorry, ESPN. We're not idiots. remember the baseball steroid scandal? Barry Bonds' jaw was as big as the titanic. The cat was out of the bag.)

So the NCAA tries to police these high faluten programs to make sure behavior like this isn't going on. The truth is, they know it's going on and can't do anything to stop it, so they make an example out of a couple of programs every year and move on. Vacate some regular season/bowl wins. put teams on probation and make them ineligible for bowl games for a few years. After that's over, those clean hands are just gonna get dirty again. If you break it down, D1 football programs basically make deals to play other teams outside their conferences, with certain major broadcasters involved. Both schools AND ABC/ESPN/NBC whoever gets a piece of that action. Smaller schools get more exposure on a national stage. Conference championships are pretty much handled by said conference, with even MORE $$ going to the broadcasters. the bowl games, OH MY GOD, don't get me started, are ALL SPONSORED BY MAJOR CORPORATIONS that basically try to wield humungoid ad campaigns during said bowl game!!

Bottom line: all of this private money is involved in what these kids do. The NCAA doesn't have DICK to do with division 1 college football. Yet, for some reason, they try to sanction it, in a feeble attempt to cover their ass and look like some kind of upstanding governing body. I've got news for you people; the Reggie Bushes of the world are still going to get escalades. the palms are still going to be greased. The system won't ever change and the NCAA is going to keep looking like a bunch of old farts with their heads up their asses. It's a flawed system. and it's not getting any better.

Cam Newton is, as I write this, sitting on a la-z-boy. Probably listening to the new Kanye West record. He's also looking at his heisman trophy, and waiting for the BCS national championship trophy to finish its' tour of the wal-marts of Alabama for the second straight year in a row so he can figuratively put that in his trophy case too. He'll go high in this April's NFL draft, make millions of dollars, and no one will ever talk about his brush with controversy again. Until it surfaces that Gene Chizik personally took him to the strip club and bought him a few lap dances and a t-bone steak, before giving him the keys to a brand new lexus, a'la Shaquille O'neal's character in Blue Chips.

Hey Coach, ....how'd you like my mobility in the pocket?

-Marty.

Top 15 of 2010.

Every year I find myself saying; "20- was a banner year for music"....Let's face it, every year is a banner year for music. There are hundreds upon thousands of new releases every year. These would happen to be the cream of what 2010 had to offer. Many memorable records to come out this year, some of these I can see myself blasting for years to come. Enjoy!






Ted Leo and the Pharmacists-The Brutalist Bricks
(Matador)

Theodore and the 'ol R/X's experience some lineup changes, add a second guitarist, and get serious on the BB, a collection of anthemic lead guitar and fervent melodies that has a much more concentrated feel than 2007's Living With the Living. Ya done good, TL.







None More Black-Icons
(Fat Wreck)

When NMB's mastermind Jason Schevchuk decided to take some time off shortly after NMB's last opus This is Satire, I was sad. Sad at the fact that I may never get to hear another song written by this incredibly gifted songwriter. His side project, LaGrecia, was good, but it wasn't the same. Icons not only feels like a NMB record, it's the best thing, hands down, that Schevchuk has done.





The Corin Tucker Band- 1,000 Years
(Kill Rock Stars)

While I thought this would reak of "I was in Sleater-Kinney, now I'm going to make a solo album" smell, I was pleasantly suprised when it didn't. A lot more of an acoustic feel, also mult-tracked vocals. Corin branches out on this record, but not before giving us some songs that could have easily been taken from The Woods sessions. All's well that ends well.










Superchunk-Majesty Shredding
(Merge)

I'll be honest and say that I hadn't ever listened to Superchunk before hearing this "comeback album"..which is anything but. After sampling bits and pieces of said back catalog, Majesty picks up right where Superchunk left off. All I know, is, I want to play guitar like these guys/gals, and I'm not worthy.





Kylesa-Spiral Shadow
(Season of Mist)

While it's hard to tell if Kylesa is going more experimental or more mainstream whilst listening to all Eleven tracks on SS, one thing is clearly evident: Kylesa has broken new ground by fusing psychedelia and metal into one livng, breathing, behemoth being.








Ryan Adams and the Cardinals-III/IV
(PAX AM)

Ryan decides to rock again, this time, he really brings it. heavy use of a hammond b3 organ resonates; and for good reason. This isn't a Whiskeytown record. Crank this up loud.










Wavves-King of the Beach
(Fat Possum)

Lo-Fi, but still somehow has balls....all the blips and effects and quirks that usually make me hate a lot of art-rock bands somehow works for Wavves, to their favor. a lot of infectious melodies and a song called "Super Soaker". Can't go wrong.









Sage Francis-Li(f)e
(ANTI)

When a poet/rapper decides to make a record in which no samples are used, the results are usually not as good as this. Sage realizes what he's capable of on Li(f)e and what comes out of this experiment is nothing short of astounding.









Eagle Claw-Poacher
(Self-Released)

What happens when you lock a few guitarists and a drummer in their practice space with a bunch of sludge records, all their gear, sans microphones? Eagle Claw, that's what happens. Explosions in the Sky better play a comeback show, because when it comes to Austin's instrumental rock crown, Eagle Claw is doing some serious dethroning.






The Roots-How I Got Over
(Def Jam)
The Most cohesive Roots release since 1999's Things Fall Apart. While subsequent releases rely heavy on experimentation, Over picks up on exuberance and packs the 1-2 punch that will put The Roots back on the map.









The Black Keys-Brothers
(Nonesuch)

Another stellar outing by Akron, OH's prodigal sons, Lebron be damned. Even with Danger Mouse behind the boards for round 2, the Keys still keep it raw and rugged.










Big Boi-Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
(Purple Ribbon/Def Jam)

Pure Hip-Hop fun. Big-Boi keeps his southern-fried flare intact for some monster rhymes, along with killer production from several different camps. Feels fresh and inspired all the way through. Do I kind of like T.I. after listening to this record? Well, yes.








Grinderman-2
(ANTI)

I've known for some time of Nick Cave's exploits, but have taken little time to shed much-needed light to it. If Neil Young went through a period in which he listened to a lot of Bauhaus, It'd probably sound a lot like 2. This is a good thing.








Girl Talk-All Day
(Illegal Art)

After 2007's Feed the Animals, we were all clamoring for more. I was expecting to be a little let down by AD, and when I wasn't, there was a Fugazi/Beyonce mashup that was like icing on the cake.









Arcade Fire-The Suburbs
(Merge)

Everything that everyone is saying about this record is true. While I enjoyed AF's previous two releases, they seemed a bit partisan; The Suburbs IS the sleeping giant that is The Arcade Fire waking up and making something that will outlast many of their contemporaries.




Honorable Mention:

Against Me!-White Crosses
(Sire)

The Hold Steady-Heaven is Whenever
(Vagrant)

Spoon-Transference
(Merge)


The Sword-Warp Riders
(Kemado)