IN THE INTERESTS OF TRANSPARENCY

It has been 5 or 6 days since my last daily 2014 Retrospective post; since then I have dropped the reins entirely. This has been partly for circumstantial reasons, as I've been travelling a lot in this time, as well as having to face up to the fact that it's Christmas and I must do Christmassy things. At the heart of it though, these reasons are merely excuses; I could've still updated this blog every day, if I had really wanted to. The truth is, as much as I wanted to be egalitarian throughout my flurry of end-of-year posts, I had been unconsciously ranking the records as I went along. As I drafted the post for day 11 and Present Tense by Wild Beasts, I realised that this post was my favourite to write because Present Tense was my favourite album. The thought of continuing to traverse the mountain ranges of this year's music, when I had just reached the summit, no longer seems that appealing to me, so I will not continue with the 2014 Retrospective. See you next year ... 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 11

WILD BEASTS - PRESENT TENSE

Today's post must begin with a disclaimer; when I comes to Wild Beasts I find it damn near impossible to be impartial. I was so enamoured with Present Tense when it was released in Febraury that I wrote a love letter to it. For all our sakes I won't reproduce it here, but it goes to show the extremity of my affection; if I were pushed to pick an 'album of the year', it would be this one here. Having said that, I find myself somewhat reticent about waxing lyrical here, afraid of tarnishing your view of Present Tense, dear reader, with my muddy footprints.

I can speak about the facts; I could talk about how Present Tense was the band's first UK top ten record, how off the back of it they've played to 5000 people at Brixton Academy, and many more people in support of Arcade Fire and The National. When it comes to how utterly stunning the record is, however, and the ineffable grace with which it has aged as I have listened to and lived with it throughout the year, it is here where words begin to fail me (which is quite inconvenient considering words are my trade). In the end I must defer my words to others; as Jane Austen's Mr Knightley once said, "I cannot make speeches ... If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more". 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 10

2:54 - THE OTHER I

Just a quick one today, partly because of life things but also partly because The Other I is one of those albums where the more you write about it, the more you ruin it. 2:54 have always itched some kind of primal scratch for me; from the first time I heard 'You're Early' from Colette and Hannah Thurlow's self-titled debut record, I was hooked. They continue the good work on The Other I, at once both unsettling and beguiling with strong guitar work and siren-esque vocals. Most of all, the work has a transcendental quality; when I listen I somehow feel like I'm wandering some barren, foreboding terrain and fighting to stay afloat in choppy waters, all at the same time. All of which is to say: it's just a bloody good album. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 9

SPRING OFFENSIVE - YOUNG ANIMAL HEARTS

Revisiting this album now, I cannot help but approach Young Animal Hearts with more than a twinge of sadness. In the last month Spring Offensive have gone on what I will optimistically describe as an indefinite hiatus; it still seems quite hard to stomach that a band with such talent are unable to continue sharing that talent with us. While Young Animal Hearts would've featured in this retrospective regardless of the recent context, there is an added poignancy that colours my perception of it.

There is ample evidence of excellent songcraft to be found here, from the undeniable 'Bodylifting' to the jaunty, direct 'Speak'. There is also a dignified maturity in the lyrical content, perhaps most succinctly communicated in tracks like 'Young Animal Hearts' and 'Cut The Root'. The qualities I've mentioned can be found in droves on this record, but the thing that will stay with me is the image nestled right in the middle of the album, at the end of 'The River': "as the water rose around my knees, I found myself smiling". This coda is built up and repeated, until all instrumentation cuts out and only the voice remains. This is my lasting image of Spring Offensive: beautiful, transient, haunting. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 8

BOMBAY BICYCLE CLUB - SO LONG, SEE YOU TOMORROW

I'm going to try my best to prevent it, but today's post is likely to descend into a complete gush-fest because today's album is more than gush-worthy. Sometimes we listen to music when we are sad, to justify our sadness; sometimes we listen to music when we are happy, to accentuate our happiness. Sometimes an album comes along and makes you feel what it wants you to feel, completely disregarding your natural emotional state, and So Long, See You Tomorrow is one of those albums. You just can't ignore this kind of happiness. 

I saw Bombay Bicycle Club on tour in March, a show which has become a live highlight of 2014 for me. One of the reasons that BBC are so good live, aside from the fact that they write a darn good tune, is that you can feel the joy of playing live roll off the band in waves, a tangible and infectious effect. It seems to me that with each album, the band get closer and closer to transmitting this joy on record as well as live, and with So Long, See You Tomorrow they might just have made it to the summit. Getting to know this record over the course of the year has been, quite simply, a pleasure. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 7

JESSIE WARE - TOUGH LOVE

The world is full of people who are either in love, out of love or, to crudely paraphrase Shakespeare's Romeo, "out of favour where I am in love". For those who fall into the latter two categories, never fear; in Tough Love, Jessie Ware has released an album so full of the stuff that there is more than enough to go round for all us lovesick pups. If debut record Devotion is concerned with the thrill of the chase, Tough Love is more of the opinion that there can be just as many thrills in the capture. 

Now I am a grumpy sod; every time I see a couple holding hands in the street I lurch for the nearest bin to hold my vomit. But when I listen to Jessie Ware, my cynicism melts away and is exposed for what it really is: a mere defence mechanism to cover up my singleton sadness. Having torn down this wall down, the tracks on Tough Love take pity on me and allow a peek at the sleeping monster that is love; a counterfeit version, but convincing all the same. In this weakened state, I cannot help but listen to songs like 'Say You Love Me' and 'Sweetest Song' and melt along with my cynicism. "Can you hear it?" Jessie asks on 'Sweetest Song'; yes Jessie, good god I can hear it!

My defence mechanisms kick back into gear, as they always do, but Tough Love will always give me a little glimpse of what I might be missing. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 6

METRONOMY - LOVE LETTERS

Firstly, a confession: I only began to listen to Metronomy 6 months ago. I am truly ashamed to have arrived so late to the Metronomy party but at least I made it, and for this I have Love Letters to thank. I stumbled upon the video for 'I'm Aquarius' by chance and got hooked in by the murky synths, and there are many more myriad electronics to be found across the record and of course, as I have since learned, throughout Metronomy's whole back catalogue. I'm listening to Love Letters now, trying to pin down exactly what it is that I like the most, and I'm finding it difficult. It could well be that there is a track called 'The Most Immaculate Haircut', or that on 'Never Wanted' Joe Mount manages to give a holiday packing list a heart-sinking gravitas, or even that 'Reservoir' makes me yearn for a non-existent long-lost lover. Hell, it might even just be that 'Boy Racers' is my unadulterated jam. After some thought these tracks rise to the top, but only after some coaxing; if I were to describe Love Letters in one word, it would be 'unassuming'. It's a record that waits for you to find it, and rewards your effort and endeavour in discovering it.

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 5

DAMIEN RICE - MY FAVOURITE FADED FANTASY

When I die, I want it marked down in my obituary that I survived the Great Damien Rice Drought of 2006-2014. There was such a long gap between Damien's second album 9 and the release of My Favourite Faded Fantasy last month that I almost forgot he existed ... and then I remembered and fell to my knees because Damien Rice makes me feel things like no other artist does. The first piece of music to ever make me cry was 'Accidental Babies'; just typing the words brings a lump to my throat. You may notice the weak attempts at hiding my affection with humour; to be quite honest, the effect Rice's work has on me makes me feel uncomfortable. He is, by far, the most arresting songwriter in my music library, and if you disagree I will fight you (see? I did it again. I can't handle this level of sincerity and yet the work demands it). 

You see, the reason that I find his music so compelling is that I believe every word he sings. With some music you don't believe a thing, and then other music is quite compelling and you believe it and just let it sit, and then there's Damien Rice. When his voice cracks on 'The Greatest Bastard', more than once, you better believe I'm slumped forward in my seat, reaching for tissues, utterly devastated. It's not a pretty image, but then the emotions on My Favourite Faded Fantasy are not pretty; no one could say they don't recognise them. All through 'The Greatest Bastard' Rice toys with my faith in his words as he constantly questions himself; almost whispering he says "I made you laugh, I made you cry, I made you open up your eyes ... didn't I?" By the end of the album, as with every Damien Rice album, I just want to give him a big hug. And I'm not a hugging person. 

It's good to have him back. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 4

TAKING BACK SUNDAY - HAPPINESS IS

It has been nearly 10 years since I first encountered Taking Back Sunday, watching them support Green Day at the Milton Keynes Bowl, and it's been about 8 years since I started seriously listening to their work. I found them at the perfect time; I had just discovered boys and, more importantly, their tendency to hurt you endlessly. Taking Back Sunday provided the pointed, bittersweet soundtrack to this awkward stretch of adolescence, and they have stayed with me to this day; a little bit like the Harry Potter books, I've grown up with TBS always around.

The Harry Potter comparison may seem a bit strange, but the final track of Happiness Is, 'Nothing At All', gave me the same kind of feeling as reading The Deathly Hallows. The realisation of the journey from adolescence to adulthood is a serious one for those that feel it, and 'Nothing At All' is the beautiful, lingering coda of an album which is undoubtedly Taking Back Sunday's most adult body of work yet. The reason that I still listen to Taking Back Sunday when other music from my younger years has fallen by the wayside is that as I have grown, so have they; in the same way that they have never sounded as adult as on Happiness Is, I have never felt so adult as at the time in which I first listened to it. When so many bands around them kept still, Taking Back Sunday never stopped running. I hope they don't stop any time soon. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 3

I've been thinking a lot about this blog recently. Why do I do it, who is it for, standard existential concerns. I am enjoying this extended schedule of posting, not least because it has made me think about form and style; I have tried to do something different with the end-of-year model and as a result, I'm also scrutinising the way I write on here. I am happy for the few readers that I have on this platform, but ultimately I write for myself and I have allowed a more personal edge to come through (while at the same time trying to unlearn many bad habits of music writing that I have accumulated over the years). Basically, this has become less of a polished Music Thing and more of just me rambling on about records that I like. And I'm OK with that. 

FOSTER THE PEOPLE - SUPERMODEL

Never in a million years did I think that a Foster The People record would make it onto any best-of list of mine, and yet I have to scold my former self for being so close-minded. Having had 'Pumped Up Kicks' forced down my throat by every media outlet possible in the summer of 2011, I had developed a kind of negative Pavlovian response to any mention of the trio. In fact, when I first heard Supermodel I didn't know who it was by; it was one of many records put on at work by my colleagues in the name of pure curiosity. About halfway through the record I checked out what was playing and, rather than turning it off, I turned it up and went back to work. 

Like with many good albums, Supermodel can be enjoyed on a number of levels. What caught my interest was the sheer amount of groove: see 'Are You What You Want To Be?', 'Best Friend'. What kept me coming back was Mark Foster's understated delivery on tracks like 'Goats In Trees' and 'Fire Escape'. Lyrically this record gets pretty introspective, and it imparts what I've found to be a rare gift, giving the illusion of singing, and indeed speaking, to me and only me. And then of course all on its own sits ' Pseudologia Fantastica', a behemoth nestled in the middle of Supermodel, charging and snarling for 5 and a half minutes straight with next to no relent. As a once staunch critic, consider my socks charmed off. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 2

WOMAN'S HOUR - CONVERSATIONS

One of the most striking moments of Conversations, the debut from Kendal quartet Woman's Hour, comes in the middle of 'Darkest Place'; Fiona Burgess' voice sounds almost too close as she sings of a lost love: "wherever I look you're always there/I close my eyes and it's even worse/you hang around on the clothes I wear/and I can't even tell you how much it hurts". There are no lyrical flourishes here, no metaphor or allegory. The simplicity and starkness of these lines are beyond devastating. 

This is not an isolated incident. Conversations constantly brings forth the lump in the throat, battled back day after day, and puts a soothing hand on your back as you let it all out. From start to finish, this is a hugely cathartic record; the listener is gifted a seemingly endless sonic expanse but, like when the mind becomes clear, only then do you realise that you are forced to confront the nothingness and all that comes with it. Nicholas Graves' sparse keys open up the space, while the guitar work of Will Burgess skirts around the vocals, sometimes approaching, sometimes hanging back. 

For me, this record shows that catharsis begets catharsis; it comes so close to speaking to the most primal pain in us that it inspires the listener to pick up the baton and continue the quest of wrestling that bittersweet feeling into a creative capsule. Conversations is perhaps the most unashamedly personal album I've heard this year and because of this I am continually enamoured by it. 

2014 RETROSPECTIVE - DAY 1

Today is the 1st of December, and music writers everywhere are putting the finishing touches to their end-of-year lists. This blog is no stranger to such behaviour, but this year I would like to do something different. For every day in December you will find a post dedicated to a note-worthy album of 2014; that's right, 31 days, 31 albums. No ranking, no scores, no even numbers, just a lot of gushing over good music. After all, it is the season of goodwill ... so without further ado, let's get started. 

EAST INDIA YOUTH - TOTAL STRIFE FOREVER

Pablo Picasso had been painting for over a decade before he embarked on his Blue Period; for the first time in his career, he found a way of expressing the austerity and sorrow surrounding him without the restrictions of realism and formal instruction. The artwork for Total Strife Forever suggests that the record is East India Youth's very own blue period, but the playfulness of the title helps to ward off any serious attempt at a comparison; Will Doyle is hardly The Old Guitarist. Perhaps the best example of the resistance to "total strife" is 'Heaven, How Long', the centrepiece of the album. Lyrically there is plenty of 'grey sky' thinking here but the music teeters on a knife-edge between hope and despair, before the crescendo hits and lands somewhere between the two, a truce between resignation and defiance. This is the overarching tone of Total Strife Forever: a series of sighs, the tone of which to be deciphered by the listener.

I remember the first time I heard Total Strife Forever; I used to work in a small record store, and upon entering the shop for my first shift of the new year my colleague held up the CD and asked, "Have you heard of this East India Youth bloke?". I had heard of him thanks to the Quietus, and between my colleague and I there was enough curiosity to put the record on. Unusually, we stayed silent as we listened. My expectations were defied again and again as I stacked shelves and served customers; I had no idea what exactly it was that I was listening to, and because of this I was immediately fond of it. This album was my first of 2014 and it has been a comforting, ever-present companion.