Posted by: dougery | December 20, 2012

2012: My Year in Music (Part 2 of 3)

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If I were to impose some kind of overarching narrative to the 5 albums I’ve culled from the hazy summer of 2012, it’d likely be one of chilling the f— out. Maybe that was just my state of mind, the needing to feel chilled out. After a big move, a new job, and summer full of sickness and death, the angry stuff would have to wait until later. Most of these albums are slow burners. Drony, soothing affairs.

If you’re diving into this thing in medias res and missed part one, here’s the link. If you want to jump directly to part 3, um, hold on while I create a portal into my brain or failing that, the future, as I haven’t written the next part yet. But fear not, in a few days you’ll have even more of my digitized thoughts to not read or skim or skip right to the music videos.

[May 22, 2012]


Mount Eerie Clear Moon [P.W. Elverum & Sun Ltd.]

Mount Eerie’s music reminds me of walking about in the dark. Where this walking is taking place seems entirely besides the point. There might not even be a where to these songs. I’m cool with that.

[May 29, 2012]


The Walkmen Heaven [Fat Possum]

Confession time. The Walkmen have always held this mystique of unassailable cool for me. Part of this has to do with them being consummate musicians who never make a bad record and yet have never exploded on the scene to reach, say, The National level notoriety. But mostly this has to do with high school.

[Personal anecdote time, feel free to skip on to the next entry].

My high school was so painfully white that Bush was the cool band, Green Day was the edgy punk band, Weezer was the obscure band and, well, you get the idea. I was too busy being angsty and misunderstood, with my headphones blaring Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness (I liked the more metal sounding tracks on the ‘night’ disc) to really dive deep into what else was out there. This was pre-internet days where I was fairly dependent on what the FM radio station played. But there was this one dude in my history class who had some sort of line to real music. Through him, the Walkmen might have been the first non-radio band I ever listened to. Cool story, bro (you were warned).

[June 26, 2012]


DIIV Oshin [Captured Tracks]

Remember the other day when I said I wouldn’t play favorites and that I couldn’t settle on any one of these albums being better than the rest? yeah, that was all hogwash. If somebody twisted my arm, which in retrospect seems like a really ineffectual way of making anyone do something, I would go out on a ledge (just trying to pack as many cliches into this sentence as possible) and say DIIV’s Oshin is #1. Outside of the Chromatics and John Talabot, I’ve listened to no album more in 2012. It’s awesome and it’s awesomeness is universal. It’s the only record I’ve played that has caused mutual head-bobbing amongst my brother, his girlfriend, my mother-in-law, the student assistant who works in the office, the list goes on and on. Seeing DIIV perform in Boston was also cool as hell.

[July 10, 2012]


Dirty Projectors Swing Lo Magellan [Domino]

By this point Dirty Projectors are a known quantity. They are something of an acquired taste in the same way that say, Deerhoof is–at least, that’s my impression of them. While this might be my favorite record they’ve made, I’ve also listened to it the least of all the albums I’ve addressed in this space. I enjoy Swing Lo Magellan when I listen, but I’m often just not in the mood for it, if that makes any sense. And outside of an entire album made entirely of a dozen cuts like Bitte Orca‘s “Stillness is the Move,” I doubt I would ever find myself consistently in a Dirty Projector mood.

[August 28, 2012]


Wild Nothing Nocturne [Captured Tracks]

Wild Nothing was on the same bill as DIIV that I saw earlier this year and if anything they played a better set. Between this and their album Gemini, Wild Nothing are putting together a tidy string of quality songs. The name always makes me think of the creatures in Where the Wild Things Are, if they aren’t called wild nothings, well, not to tell you how to do your job, deceased writer Maurice Sendak, but missed opportunity, dude.

Alright, next week after Xmas and all that fun stuff I’ll throwdown with September-November. Spoiler alert: It was LOUD.

Here’s part 3. Make Haste!

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