michaelangelo matos

2009’s Most Anticipated Record Releases

Thursday, January 29th, 2009

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With the music industry in continuing free-fall, the idea of the “hot upcoming album” may soon be history. As more artists either going DIY (a la Radiohead) or sign deals with not-really-record-labels (such as Madonna and Jay-Z’s 360 deals with Live Nation), the idea that an album is a thing to be prepared and anticipated is quickly going the way of the dodo. So, you could say, is the album itself, though the recent surge of interest in vinyl LPs, as well as the medium’s well-earned rep as the premier display of an artist’s or group’s full range, argues against that really happening for a while. Still, track-by-track consumption is now the norm, and major labels have taken to been holding back expensive, big-name projects, sometimes permanently. Remember Pussycat Dolls singer Nicole Scherzinger’s mooted 2007 solo debut, complete with cover story for Blender? It’s allegedly headed our way this fall. Bet you can’t wait.

In the meantime, though, a number of widely anticipated albums are on their way in the next couple months. Increasingly, indie rock labels and majors alike are abandoning the “blockbuster season” mentality, particularly after a problematic fall whose marquee names (GN’R, Beyoncé, Kanye West) didn’t perform the way anyone had hoped. There are practical reasons for this: at the beginning of the year there’s little to write about, meaning it’s a fertile time for artists that get good press, particularly indie bands, to display their goods. Rap and R&B artists have known this for years—late December is often a good time for new releases by artists ignored by mainstream rock-pop writers. That year-round mentality isn’t going to save the industry, but it’s a good sign that no one in it is taking her future for granted.

ANIMAL COLLECTIVE
Merriweather Post Pavilion (Domino, Jan. 20)
Even if Radiohead or the White Stripes release albums in 2009, this one will be, by some measure, the year’s most fervently anticipated album: fans began begging for leaks on message boards and blog comment boxes in October, and one popular prank—a Rickroll disguised as the new album—gained traction when the band’s label got involved. Now that it’s been out on vinyl for a couple weeks, the leak has sparked debate: Is this really a 9.6 out of 10, as Pitchfork has it, or something a little more earthbound?

ANTONY AND THE JOHNSONS
The Crying Light (Secretly Canadian, Jan. 20)
Four years after his second album, I Am a Bird Now, made him an indie-world hero and one after providing key vocals on the splendid Hercules and Love Affair album, New York transgender art-song singer-songwriter Antony returns with more dark ruminations on love, identity, and the push-pull of human interaction.

FRANZ FERDINAND
Tonight: Franz Ferdinand (Domino, Jan. 27)
When they started out, this lean Scottish quartet promised to make rock music for girls to dance to. So it follows that their third album is something of a concept piece about a night out, highlighted by the sinewy new wave stomps “No You Girls,” “Twilight Omens,” and “Live Alone.”

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN
Working on a Dream (Columbia, Jan. 27)
One of rock’s old reliables, Springsteen’s 15th all-new studio album came fast on the heels of 2007’s Magic, with Bruce writing and recording with the E Street Band during breaks of his last tour, with an emphasis on spontaneity and mostly early takes being chosen for the album.

LILY ALLEN
It’s Not Me, It’s You (Capitol, Feb. 10)
The 23-year-old London singer, songwriter, and tabloid regular has recycled her own headlines for her own purposes on this follow-up to her 2006 debut, Alright, Still. “The Fear,” the album’s first single, has already gotten buzz for its frank, funny rendering of Allen’s celebrity life, and other songs like “Not Fair” and “He Wasn’t There” are equally personal. No Mark Ronson production this time around, though.

MISSY ELLIOTT
Block Party (Goldmind/Atlantic, Feb. 10)
Originally scheduled for last May, this is one of the most curiously delayed major-artist disc in a while, presumably because “Ching a Ling” and “Shake Your Pom Pom,” both issued early in ’08, didn’t do much. Still, a dance-heavy new Missy album that, the singer told Billboard last year, has “sort of a U.K. hip-hop sound” could be very interesting indeed.

ERYKAH BADU
New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh) (Motown, Feb. 17)
There’s no disputing that New Amerykah Part One was one of 2008’s great releases, a kaleidoscopic but clearly focused statement about the world Badu lives in as well as the one she’s made. Part Two (there are three New Amerykahs scheduled) was originally slated for a summer ’08 release. Songs include “Annie” and “Jump Up in the Air.”

THE PRODIGY
Invaders Must Die (Take Me to the Hospital/Cooking Vinyl, March 3)
Liam Howlett, the production whiz behind veteran British dance act the Prodigy, likes to take his time: Invaders Must Die is the first Prodigy album since 2004, and its fifth overall. The bully-boy beats and blaring bass that typifies the group’s later work isn’t likely to have gone anywhere, and the album features appearances of Foo Fighter Dave Grohl and James Rushent of Does It Offend You, Yeah?

KELLY CLARKSON
All I Ever Wanted (RCA, March 17)
A couple years back, Kelly Clarkson wanted to break free of the corporate pop system, releasing a downcast album called My December in opposition to the wishes of her label boss, Clive Davis. Apparently Clarkson has changed heart again, because from its airbrushed cover and the bright sound of the first single, the unsubtly titled “My Life Would Suck Without You,” All I Ever Wanted looks like an attempt to lasso a marketplace that has wandered pretty far away since Breakaway took her beyond her American Idol base.

PETER BJORN AND JOHN
Living Thing (Almost Gold/StarTime International, March 31)
The indie-rock ’00s have coughed up nearly as many sturdy one-shot hits as did the alt-rock ’90s, and one of the most inescapable came from this comma-less Swedish trio, whose “Young Folks” featured the catchiest whistled hook this side of Otis Redding’s “Dock of the Bay.” As with ’06’s Writer’s Block, Living Things promises a dozen perfectly crafted pop-rock gems tailor-made for the cardigan-wearing, lovelorn nerds in your life.

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Classic Journalism: Robert Christgau, The Dean of Rock Criticism

Thursday, December 11th, 2008

photo by Fred McDarrah

The first time I read Robert Christgau’s review, “Trying to Understand the Eagles,” I was 13 years-old, sitting on my great-grandaunt’s living room couch in Minneapolis. Originally published in Newsday in 1972 and reprinted in his first book, 1973’s Any Old Way You Choose It, the piece is essentially the reason I became a rock critic.

The essay begins as a relatively evenhanded dissection of the Eagles. It was a model for the way Christgau—credited with being one of the creators of rock criticism—would write in the decades to come. He always takes his subject’s signifiers seriously—thinking about what they really mean. He knew early on that the Eagles’ streamlined popcraft had real skill in it, and he also smelled the noticeably swollen egos of the early-’70s rock stars. The way Christgau connects their debut album to the aftermath of the ’60s dream’s fallout is instructive, too: folks who loathe the Eagles today tend to do so because the band’s tendency to be sappy and nostalgic only got worse. Which, as it turns out, is where Christgau thought they might be headed.

But the line that provided the revelation, the one that made me change my thinking to “I want to do that,” instead of, “It might be fun to do that,” is one of the greatest literary switcheroos in music criticism. It’s a sentence so elegant and simple, and so perfectly deadpan, that it inspired many of my peers in the field to become rock critics, as well. See if you can spot it.


“Trying to Understand the Eagles.”

Michaelangelo Matos is the author of Sign ‘O’ the Times Continuum, 2004) and has contributed to many magazines, newspapers, websites, and anthologies. He has a personal blog, Schmusic at http://m-matos.blogspot.com/. He lives in Seattle and is moving to New York again (for love, not money) in 2009.

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All That Jazz

Tuesday, October 7th, 2008


My friend, venerable music critic Michaelangelo Matos, has a good piece in Good magazine, titled, “Who’s A Dilettante?” It’s about how, despite the fact that he likes jazz, and listens to it, he’ll never be an expert on it. Which, for a critic, is sort of like admitting total defeat, because critics are supposed to be all-knowing-know-it-alls. And while Matos does a great job on most genres, he admits when listening to Duke Ellington:

Then I hit a wall. I listen to and like jazz, own a lot of albums.
If I put them on a shelf together, you might think I know something
about it. But I know squat, and listening to all that Ellington just
proved it further. Even allowing myself the luxury of writing about him
was a map so big you could never find its end, where would I begin? I
realized that however much I enjoy jazz, I’ll likely remain a
dilettante about it. And I discovered something else as well: this is
how I prefer it.

That made me laugh out loud. I sort of understand where he’s coming from, but I have a much more extreme relationship with jazz. If you looked at my music shelf, you might think it didn’t exist at all. Because I own no jazz. Purposely.

My father was a jazz musician. He played the bass. At one point he did it professionally, but then he grew up and got a real job in the casinos in Vegas and picked it up in his off hours. It was all the most severe noodlely instrumental stuff. Duke Ellington, who Matos writes about, figured prominently; so did Miles Davis, and some other people who I’ve totally blocked out.

I hated jazz. I hated the timbre of it—I like deep bass sounds (probably the only legacy Dad has left me)—and didn’t find the high-end, treble-centric tonality of it aesthetically pleasing. I didn’t like how it meandered all over the place, and I needed to hear vocals. Listening to jazz was sort of like eating broccoli as a child. You knew it was supposed to be good for you, but you didn’t like it, not one bit.

Of course, it didn’t help that whenever I was playing say, the latest Guns and Roses record, he would wander in and give me a lecture some 20 minutes long about how my music was garbage. He would then list the specifics. We did not have a great relationship. I was 16.

Later, when I had moved to New York, and was writing about dance music for the Village Voice, longtime Voice music critic Greg “Ironman” Tate was sitting nearby and writing on a computer. Somehow we got onto the subject of jazz, and I told him my little story, and he laughed at me. “You listen to today’s jazz,” he pointed out.

This was sort of true. Dance music is mostly instrumental, with long meandering sections that come back together at the end of the piece. I looked sheepishly at the floor and had to admit a certain amount of defeat. The Ironman was right. There was one thing that dance music favored in a way that jazz did not, though—and that was bass. But then, I realized, maybe, I was my father’s daughter after all.

GOOD » Who’s a Dilettante? »

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