Best Albums of 2015: Number One

If one album, one artist, can be credited with me coming back to heavy music it's the one at the top of my list. Once I heard this album, I couldn't stop and I kept trying to find other bands that would come close to what I loved about this. This is doomy and heavy but it's not just that. There's a range and more than that, it is deeply personal and moving in unexpected ways. It reminds me of specific things I loved about metal as a kid, is clearly influenced by those things, and yet not frozen in that time. It's Crooked Doors by Royal Thunder and as far as I'm concerned, it's really a masterpiece of an album.

Back in 7th grade, early on in the year that a bunch of kids from other elementary schools filtered in to my tiny world, I met a guy that let me borrow an album by an artist that I'd certainly heard of, in urban legends and warnings, mostly, but had never actually listened to. That cassette tape of Ozzy Osbourne's Bark at the Moon opened my ears and mind to a world of darkness that would speak to me very closely for the next few years of outcast pubescent confusion (new album?). The internal turmoil and mental anguish about the world that was captured more by the tension of the music itself than by any specific lyric, and manifested in a black catharsis (another album?), is exactly what I was going to need and that moment is a major turning point in my life. All of this is what Crooked Doors brings to something you wouldn't necessarily think of at first: the break-up album. And that's basically what this is about - the end of a marriage, specifically between singer/bassist Mlny Parsonz and guitarist Josh Weaver - though it also includes some explorations into breaking away from cults and brainwashing, which come to think of it, is kind of the same thing.

This album has an overwhelming emotional cohesion to it that only reveals itself with more listens. The opening track "Time Machine" sets up the entire journey of regret, resentment and rebirth in a beautifully bittersweet way. "I'm looking for a time machine, but I can not go back and change one single thing, it's staying all intact," sings Parsonz, using the more vulnerable side of her commanding vocal range, over a tune that slowly builds into a power ballad with so much power that there are moments you forget the ballad part completely. But it's toward the middle of this seven minute wound baring that the song goes into a certain free fall motif that will be repeated several times and in different forms throughout this album, firmly gluing the entire thing together as a whole. And then it builds towards a solo from Weaver that would demand full blown torches be held up by the audience. And this is just the first song!

The story of Parsonz and Weaver includes a stint in a cult, which they left long ago, but it informs several songs on this album, particularly "Floor" which is about a specific "ritual" Mlny was put through at this church. Not only do you get the sense that this time in her life is important to the issues of the relationship and the break-up, but it is an incredibly apt subject to include in this context, regardless. "I can feel him fall me, I can feel him fall on me, I am trembling, what is happening to me, white wash this memory," she wails at one point and she could be talking about some god, some cult leader or her husband. And then there's "this is such a mess, I know that there's something more, something tells me this is over, now open these doors," which really requires no further comment. The point here is this is a person at a major crossroads in her life and that comes with realizations, repercussions and resignations that are overwhelming, freeing and melancholy. The fact they continue to play music together speaks volumes about their friendship and commitment to their art, but I'm sure there's a cost and these songs are like the beautiful scars that remain. And not only do her lyrics convey this in both direct and indirect ways, but the music always supports it.

That free falling motif I mentioned earlier comes through most in the slightly more ballady "Forgive Me, Karma" which opens with several falling guitar runs before going into a what is just a slight tease of Parsonz sweetest singing. Evan Diprima's drums particularly stand out to me during the quieter moments of this song, providing what could be the backbeat to the cosmos itself. By the time we get to the double farewell punch of closers "The Bear I" and "The Bear II" you should feel somewhat exhausted, and these two straight up ballads got your back. But they might tear you up with heartache.

I really can't say enough how great Parsonz is vocally, lyrically and emotionally. There are moments where you hear her strain for a note that maybe someone trying to achieve perfection, rather than honesty, would avoid. But strain she does, and she doesn't care if you hear it. That strain that shows up every so often is a huge part of what pushed this album to my top spot. That last song, "The Bear II" featuring Parsonz singing over piano and strings, in anyone else's hands might come across as too syrupy or overdone, but when she sings "and I wish I had the heart to move on, but I am not, no I am not that strong," it's like an invasion of privacy on our part instead of an exploitation of emotion on hers. And to have gone through an entire album where her voice is mostly about power and loudness, and end on this note of broken vulnerability is the bravest thing she could do and ultimately the biggest demonstration of her power.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Two

I'd heard a few songs on this album since it dropped in August. I had put it in one of my Spotify folders out of curiosity and songs would pop up once in a while. I liked them fine. Then, some time in early November I decided to play the whole thing from start finish and I was instantly in love. How  could I not be? Nathaniel Rateliff & The Night Sweats' self titled debut is Southern Soul with a country flair and fucking perfect.

From the joyously bouncing opener "I Need Never Get Old" with it's Sam and Dave inspired beat, it's clear this band takes soul seriously. Rateliff is a pretty well established indie folk singer but here he's a full on soul shouter like few others. His voice is deep, loud and commanding but there's a certain worn-in quality to it that really brings this to a special level. And the band is totally jumping. But what truly puts this over the top for me is the production quality. Producer Richard Swift captured a vibe and atmosphere here that sounds to me like it was all recorded live in the studio. I'm sure that's not the actual case, but it doesn't matter so long as the end result puts me in a room with the band, and it absolutely does. I feel like I'm in some old school, wood panelled studio with a bunch of sweaty musicians and vintage gear, maybe at Mussle Shoals, throughout this album.

It's not all just the expected Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett, Sam Cooke, well worn tropes that are covered here, either. Every song also has a certain mid 70s country soul edge that comes through most on the ballad "Wasting Time" and sets this apart from other soul revival bands this year. But the stand out track, and my song of the year, is "S.O.B." a supremely infectious song that walks a fine line between being a deeply disturbing tale of alcoholic descent and party anthem with a total "fuck it" mentality which Rateliff actually just wrote as a joke. Opening with a gospel harmony complete with humming, clapping and stomping, Rateliff sings about how he will need someone to help him and how he will writhe and shake his body, pull his hair out and cover himself in ashes before suddenly breaking off that painful confession by demanding a drink as the band jumps in with the most joyous R&B gospel jam ever. If you don't join in, you might be dead. It's the most fun song you've likely heard in a long time.

There isn't a bad song on this album and the way it completely transports me when I listen to it is magical. If you've been paying attention, you know I love soul, especially Southern soul. But far from being a no brainer that an artist playing classic soul and R&B would be something I'd love, there's a certain feel that has to be there - a certain authenticity that has to come across as genuine love for what this is about. It's not easy to put your finger on it, but it's here. Rateliff and company clearly love this music and know it well and it shows. Now, get me a drink!

Best Albums of 2015: Number Three

While I hate nostalgia, my number 3 album makes me nostalgic for things I kind of missed. I was really blown away by this album a few months and wrote about it here. It's Bully's full length debut Feels Like and it makes me feel young and wistful and rebellious and like I'm back in my twenties. The thing is for me, that comes with some melancholy and this album is the perfect cure for that as well.

I've mentioned in passing that back in the early to mid 90s, I think I went through a real depression. To this day, I don't know if it was clinical or if I was just very sad because I never sought help (I should have), but it was ultimately music that provided the support. And what was the music of that time? Grunge and the long string of outsider type alt rock that was being lumped into the same category at the time and was more easily accessible because anything edgy was pushed to the mainstream until the mainstream itself finally shattered. It was Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Juliana Hatfield, Belly, Weezer, Smashing Pumpkins, etc. What they all had in common was the voice of the loner, the geek, the outcast, the disaffected to one degree or another. And while that, in itself was not new to music, it felt somehow more immediate this time and it was of the moment so it really did feel like my music in a way that I don't think anything I'd ever heard before had. 

As much as I loved the music, though, I only experienced it and the whole culture from a distance, from inside the four walls of my bedroom mostly. I'd hear the music and once in a blue moon see these people on TV. I'm sure they were on all the time, but I didn't watch a lot of TV at the time, aside from Star Trek, really. But I did read a lot of Rolling Stone and Spin and was captivated by all these people. I wanted to go to wherever "it" was happening, but I was stuck. The albums, the songs, were my escape.

Anyway, I eventually got out of my hole. But the thing is, maybe because I had the music, that darkness left some strangely fond memories in my head. It's not that the sadness is glorified as much as that it serves as a period where, even though I was "God's lonely man" (I watched Taxi Driver a lot, too, by the way) and had little connection to humans, I had somehow found a stronger connection with Humanity through the music. So that is my odd nostalgia for the music of the era and it's a big part of what I feel when I listen to Bully, though completely updated and from a new perspective. This is that music, capturing those same emotions, but for today and it's very moving that this can still happen on some level.  And all that, with heavy rocking out at the same time, so it's not just a navel gaze. 

So, there you have it. An album that somehow makes me nostalgic for a dark period, while being new and exciting at the same time. It's such a salad of confusing emotions it had to be on my list. Go listen for yourself.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Four

If we were keeping score beyond just who comes in at number 1, this next one would probably win. You see, technically, there are two entries on my list from the leader of this band, though she does not admit it, but check my number 7. But before that album came out, back in April, on a perfectly dreary, rainy day, I reviewed this album for FDRMX (now ppcorn, don't ask). It is Alabama Shakes' Sound and Color and although it's honestly not an album I've listened to too many times since April, it is really just undeniably great.

Honestly, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I really think I nailed it already with my review from April, so go read that here to see why this album is is on my list. A small tease from that review:

"There’s an episode of Louis C.K.’s show, Louie, where after a beautiful, short lived relationship, Louie is depressed and talks to his neighbor, an older, eccentric doctor played by Charles Grodin about how he knew he’d be depressed but he didn’t think it would be this bad. The doctor tells him he’s an idiot because he doesn’t see how lucky he is. He explains that the misery is the best part of love. The pain of missing someone, the ache of that loss that seems to be tearing you apart from the inside with every memory: that’s the goal. The alternative is not caring, not feeling, not knowing love at all, and that is true misery. This idea is present in the beauty of this album and it is why it should be heard in the rain, or in the dark, alone, and silently, absorbing every moment Brittany Howard is laying bare for us with her gut wrenchingly honest vocals."

Bottom line, though, you really should play this in one sitting, uninterrupted. Maybe with a drink and the lights down low. But by the end, you'll feel like you really experienced something special. And for those of you going through a break up, romantic or not, literal or figurative, this is going to be an album you'll want to hear as reassurance that you are not alone.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Five

While there is certainly a good helping of rock among my top 10, this album at number 5 is really the only one where the whole rock n roll superheroes vibe comes across. You know what I mean? That whole slimy and glamorous, gritty and grand, rebellious and authoritative, atmosphere that you get from some of the great, larger than life, classic bands. The Dead Weather's Dodge and Burn is what I imagine people that really loved Led Zeppelin or The Rolling Stones in the 70s felt that band was doing. If the music business was what it was back then, this is a band that would absolutely dominate the culture right now.

The term supergroup, when members of several big bands come together to form a supposedly bigger band, comes with a lot of baggage, hype and hubris. But while this band technically fits the definition, it also delivers on the original promise of the term. This really is the Rock n Roll Justice League of today, the gold standard. Because ultimately, even though Alison Mosshart and Jack White are the most recognizable here (the Batman and Superman, if you will) there would be no Justice League without The Flash and Green Lantern (Dean Fertita and Jack Lawrence). It's the whole that is ultimately greater than the parts and here, unlike ego heavy supergroups, that comes across crystal clear. Which is a giant feat considering White's legendary (and maybe even justified) ego.

On Dodge and Burn, their third album, they are at their most comfortable but that doesn't come with any loss of tension or energy. The first album felt a little more cautious and while the second album completely let loose on the world, this time they really demonstrate that this is no mere "side project." I always get the sense that Mosshart is a hairs width away from crying and/or beating your ass with your own limbs in some orgasm of hate and lust and I don't know what. In short, her voice is the ultimate distillation of rock n roll and in the hands of mad scientist White producing, this band is like a beaker of rock n roll moonshine that will burn your fucking soul. The groove in tracks like "Let Me Through" push you to abandon all else in order to jam.

At the moment, I would say my favorite track on the album is probably "Cop and Go." This thing is pure white fire and sexy horror. Fertita's overblown guitar twang over White's bashing, a psycho piano from hell and Lawrence's funky bass is awesome here, but the bit that pushes it over the edge to me is that "will you give a little back to me" tag line from Mosshart. In any other year, this would have likely been higher on my list. But the truth is, from here on, it's really almost interchangeable. For now, just listen to this thing and if a team of black leather clad badasses burst through your walls with flaming guitars, well, you might be hallucinating from this album, so just turn it up louder and enjoy.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Six

So, for number 6 you could call it cheating, but that's on you. It's not a full album and on top of that it's basically just a deluxe version of a 2014 release, but it's my fucking blog, so tough. I'm talking about a collection of songs that ooze with reality and raw passion in a way that you wouldn't expect from someone that has a long history with the music business, but I guess it all depends on what happened during those years of experience. Fantasitc Negrito's Deluxe EP is a stomping, gospel infused, bluesy journey through struggle and redemption that accomplishes the dubious feat of updating roots music without losing a damn thing in the process.

Fantastic Negrito's story is pretty amazing even without actually hearing the music. This is a guy who taught himself to play multiple instruments and that should have made it big back in the 90s (Prince big), except just when he was about to, he was sidelined by a music business that wanted to pigeonhole every artist just as the whole industry was about to collapse under the weight of its own labels. Fast forward a few hard, hustling years, after he nearly dies in a car accident which puts him in a coma and mangles his playing hand - years of not creating music at all. Until it just bursts inside him and this time, it's going to come with the confidence of a man who has really lived.

So you have a guy who has the advantage of having come close enough that he really honed his craftsmanship, but unlike some artists who reach that level of professionalism and then struggle to keep it real, he is hungry and unrelenting. And unlike many struggling artists, he has moved well beyond the not giving a fuck stage of life and is supremely self assured to the point that exposing his vulnerability becomes an act of empowerment. All this comes through in every single note he releases from the inner depths of his Soul (capitalization intended).

As soon as "Lost in a Crowd" starts, I am stomping along with this impassioned confession/lamentation/sermon/rant that he spits out in a seemingly stream of consciousness barrage before breaking into a sweet, classic soul melody for a second that really knocks you out in how perfectly timed it is. "An Honest Man" opens with the humor of "I'm in love again, No this time it's time it's not with my hand," and then delves into some pretty dark shit about "wandering, murdering" and not paying the Chinese girl (seriously, you should always pay the Chinese girl). And the whole album just keeps doing that over and over again, shaking and lifting you up while pounding you with this man's truths and passions and desires. I can't wait to hear this his full album some time next year. In the meantime, I'm gonna be playing the fuck out of this EP and I hope you do to. This guy deserves the second life he's getting.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Seven

I won't beat around the bush here, because my number 7 album is not about bush beating. It's Thunderbitch, which I wrote a little bit about not too long ago, and is about as straightforward as it gets. This is the type of album you can play and wind up losing complete track what happened during the 32 minutes that Brittany Howard and company trashed your head like some hotel room afterparty.

And yet. . .

There are moments of angst and vulnerability that peak through from behind the debauchery. From the opening track, "Leather Jacket" I get the sense of a kid dreaming of being this rebel street tough and hanging all her hopes on the idea of putting on this jacket. But there's also some flashes of the price of that choice, which get hinted at several times through out the album, no matter how "totally fucking awesome" she looks in the leather jacket that's disintegrating off her bones.

It's in that context that the druggy, Stonesesque "Very Best Friend" goes beyond just being about this girl tracking down her very best friend with all the pills she wants to take. Because once you think you've figured out she's just talking about her pusher, there's a bit about how "Momma called me and told me not to hang out with that boy no more, he ain't no good to talk to. But momma he was there for me, where were you? And now it's kinda all your fault." And then there's an apparent overdose or something as she laments the future she could have had. Somehow, all this comes across without putting any kind of damper on the party at all. It's this complete sense of self abandonment that we tend to romanticize in Rock n Roll that gives it the sense of danger and, really, its basic appeal. It's that line between sex and death that the leather jacket bikers walk and it's in full display on this album. How could it not be in my top 10?

Best Albums of 2015: Number Eight

Sometimes you just want to go through your day like a badass with a soundtrack. Ok, maybe not just sometimes. But still, while that soundtrack will vary depending on my mood, a lot of the time it's going to feature some version of what this album in the number 8 position for 2015 is doing. La Batteria by Italy's La Batteria runs the gamut of late 60s to mid 80s B movie soundtracks, except these are all original compositions.

I don't usually say things like this, but they just don't make movie soundtracks like they used to. My generation grew up with, and took for granted, some of the greatest music ever to be written specifically for movie and TV. Some of that music even came from libraries of stock music that happened to feature some great musicians, but I figure that as electronic instruments became more prominent, these libraries became filled with much more generic Casio sounding music, losing the funk and groove of that previous era. But eventually many of those great pieces would be heard in samples from the 90s to today used by everyone from Portishead to The-Wu Tang Clan and beyond. In any case, La Batteria pays homage to all of this in a very specifically Italian way, recalling bands like Goblin.

The opening track, "Chimera" is a melancholy tune of the sort Ennio Morricone would throw onto a scene of a lonely assassin, contemplating his hit list while smoking a cigarette, only to discover that his final target is the love of his life. He's not necessarily surprised by this, and is likely not going to take immediate steps to save her because he's being watched, but it weighs on him enough to elicit a smokey sigh of resignation to fate. He clearly deserves the pain and that realization is what will lead to his ultimate sacrifice as he gives his life to save her. Yeah, all this from a simple instrumental featuring a guitar and harpsichord. That's how great this album is.

The next track, "Vigilante" is what the soundtrack should be to a superhero movie if they had any soul. "Scenario" is obviously about a highly tense heist and "Formula" is chase that slowly builds in intensity with the pulsing synths that bubble like the warped plastic cover of some old forgotten VHS horror movie from the 80s. I could go on and on, with each track, but maybe it's better if you just listen for yourself and let it reveal these imagined movies to you. Oh, and by the way, the last track, "Persona non grata" plays as the lonely assassin slowly dies, a victim of his own trap, realizing that the person that hired him was his lost love, who hates him, and knew full well he would sacrifice himself to save her, from himself. Roll credits.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Nine

I got into a lot of sludgy, witchy type, metal bands this year and the one that comes in with my 9th favorite album of the year is currently shrouded in some mystery. There just isn't a whole lot of information on them on the internet that I can find, but damn it, Ruby the Hatchet should be huge and their album Valley of the Snake is the proof.

It would be easy to make a list of other bands this album brings to mind. But I'm not going to do that. Yes, it's deeply rooted in a certain style of 70s psychedelic rock and I don't think they shy away from this, but this album, this band, is too good to think of as just a throwback to anything.  From the opening bass lines of "Heavy Blanket," which are quickly joined by organ, guitar and drums in a creeping groove you get the sense of just coming over a mountain and seeing this vast valley of snakes below and it's a little scary. Then, Jillian Taylor's voice comes in like a howling wind and you realize you will follow this witchy woman into that pit of vipers, or pretty much anywhere, willingly, and you will "lay your heavy blanket" over her when she's cold.

Throughout the album, it's hard to pick one player that stands out. Lake Muir on bass and Owen Stewart on drums provide a mountainous rock foundation for the bubbling magma of Sean Hur's organ, while the flames of Johnny Scarp's guitar roar behind the preaching, beckoning priestess, Taylor. So, yeah, I'm going with the volcano metaphor. And it's a darkly sexy or sexily dark volcano for sure, as evidenced by the palpable doom in the opening riffs of "Tomorrow Never Comes," that lead to Taylor telling us we don't need anyone except for her and nothing except for her love. It's entrancing and might make you some kind of vampire or minion if you listen to it enough times and I'm totally fine with that proposition. Hell, I might even willingly jump into that volcano.

The album is 40 minutes long over just 6 songs and while there are some sprawling instrumental breaks, it's never excessive or indulgent as this type of thing can sometimes be. Everything just makes sense the way it is and comes across in a very natural way without pretension. I'm looking forward to uncovering some of the mystery of this band as they inevitably get bigger.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Ten

Narrowing down my favorites of 2015 to just ten albums was not easy and I didn't try to force it just so I could write about specific albums. And yet, it worked out that my number 10 was the first album that really caught my attention this year and pretty much set the stage for the rest of a year in which I dug into metal and heavier rock more than usual. Not to mention the very name of the band pretty much describes my favorite thing in rock as I've written about before. So, my number 10, is Rose Mountain by Screaming Females.

Somewhere between metal and punk with a dash of artsy drama, this album grabs you and excites you and even annoys you a little until you can't help but listen again. Marissa Paternoster's voice maybe comes off a little affected at times but there's something about her vibrato and rawness that takes me past any potential off-putting weirdness and into something much more natural. Just listen to the opening track, "Empty Head" and by the time you get to the chorus you will be bobbing your head and maybe playing air guitar.  But it won't end there because it goes right into "Ripe" which really cuts loose and demonstrates Paternoster's guitar skills as well.

Slower tracks like "Wishing Well" and "Hopeless" feature a tightrope walk between the screaming female and the vulnerability she is not afraid of demonstrating. "Hopeless," in particular is the kind of power ballad that I think some of us might relate to more than others and like most friendships ended by one sided unrequited loves or just plain loneliness such as the lyrics seem to imply, it ends too soon. But still, the lyrics "Don't count on me again, I'll obsess on our encounters, I want us to be friends, I'm not hopeless, helpless, or begging you to stay, It's just turning out that way," will linger, hopelessly. It really is a beautiful little song that almost evokes Linda Perry pop sensibility and lays Marissa's heart open on a glass table that makes you listen to the rest of the album a little more closely.

This image is rock n roll.

The subject matter seems to be mostly on the less exhilarating side of life, which balances out the soaring, arena influenced rock. Some of the lyrics are just how I like them: hard to get to the specific meaning and specific enough to be honest. But a song like "Broken Neck" is most likely dealing with depression or some other sort of mental illness with its chorus of "It's my mad disease, pills and scripts they push me." And the misleadingly titled "Triumph" which features an uplifting riff and some great shredding also features the chorus "Our triumph is sleeping now, my form of devotion, I'll drag you down in the crowd, I go through the motions." It's in in these moments that Paternoster's voice is most perfect, bringing forward a layer of raw truth and unexpected emotion.

All in all, just listen. Don't try to make sense of it because really, the big take away here is that Melissa Paternoster is a badass guitar player above all else. Let her shredding in songs like "Triumph" and the just fucking awesome closer, "Criminal Image" take you along and you will be soaring.

2015 Week 47: Contenders

I've spent the whole week going over some of the albums that stuck out for me this year and I'm narrowing my list down to my eventual 10 for 2015. Last year I didn't rank them, and instead just presented them in any order, because I generally hate rankings. But I might challenge myself this year and actually impose an order and pick one that is the best. But it's going to be tough. There are several that could fit the bill and at least one I hadn't actually heard all the way through until this week. In the meantime, this week's Spotify playlist will give you a little taste as it features one song from each of the top 23 contenders. The possibility of something else sneaking in at the last minute is still open, so if you feel something is missing, let me know quick and I'll give it a listen.