My Favorite Albums of 2007: A Post by Lord Bison (Part I)

It would be quite arrogant of me to try to put together an all-encompassing “Best Of 2007” list, given that I’ve heard probably about 3% of the records that might qualify for such an endeavor. Instead I give you the crème de la crème of my own personal listening world, with the simple hope that one of the six NWMB regulars will go out and buy just one of these lovely compositions (if they haven’t already). Given the title and content of our weblog, I do lament that there are only two Seattle bands on this list, but, hey, it ain’t like I ain’t supportin’ the lot of ‘em; there’s just a shit-ton of great music out there.

And since I’m a such a longwinded sonuvabitch, I’ve divided this post in 2: today numbers 7-12, tomorrow 1-6. Without further ruckus:

12. The Ponys – Turn the Lights Out (Matador)

I feel like the Ponys have never received their proper due. Their 2005 release, Celebration Castle didn’t show up on many people’s ‘best of’ lists. They don’t seem to get much press, despite being signed to independent label/giant Matador and putting on a terrific live show. Turn the Lights Out has earned them yet another spot on my humble little list, due in large part to tidy, fuzzy guitar antics, proficient and bouncy bass lines, extraordinary lyricism and beat-conscious, retro-style drumming. Lead guitarist Jered Gummere is the main proprietor of the Ponys’ trademark 60s/80s influenced guitar pop. He’s colossal in stature, but still manages to maintain a modest, unassuming quality that floats throughout the band’s music. Lead track (and single) “Double Vision” is a soulful yet spastic tune buoyed by bassist Melissa Elias, ending with a guitar squall reminiscent of Thurston Moore. The influence of SY is more prevalent in this album (“Poser Psychotic, “Everyday Weapon”), but the feeling that this music is a simply a rehash is quickly washed away with intermittent organ accompaniments and twangy, playful guitar interludes courtesy of new bandmate Brian Case. Hopefully, this record will turn the listening world’s lights on.

11. Band of Horses – Cease to Begin (Sub Pop)

When I first heard Everything All the Time, I was captivated. When founders Mat Brooke and Ben Bridwell split ways, I was irritated. When the new incarnation of Band of Horses picked up their Seattle “roots” and moved home to South Carolina, I was apathetic. When I heard first single “Is There a Ghost”, I was impressed. Upon my introductory listen to Cease to Begin, I was satisfied. While none of the cuts on this sophomore effort can quite reach the gravity or passion of those on Everything (though “Cigarettes, Wedding Bands” comes close), the atmosphere of this record is decidedly more optimistic than its predecessor. Both Bridwell’s lyrics and his newfound vocal confidence are undeniably apparent. The lush, emphatic guitar arrangements are cheerfully tuned in. Gone is the delicate inspiration provided by Brooke, but the new rhythm section has stepped in commendably for him and drummer Sera Cahoone. The boys’ honkey-tonk pedigree is proudly paraded through town with the classic southern-rock jam “Ode to LRC” and the boot-stompin’ “The General Specific”. It’s a party in the South (with horses) and everyone’s invited.

10. Partman Parthorse – P.M.P.H. (Xeroid)

I don’t suspect this release from local groove-punk outfit Partman Parthorse will find its way onto many year end lists, given its tendency toward unconventionalism. As vocalist—and Iggy Pop progeny—Gary Smith discloses on “Police”, “you can’t have a party in a prison cell.” Though much of his lyricism finds his tongue placed firmly in cheek, one can’t help but notice how seriously they take this sentiment. The record is built around gettin’ baked, ditchin’ humility, and high-fivin’ in an experimental, avant-garde way. On first listen, it feels like a punk record—the opening, and best, three tracks elicit an old-skool standard, calling out posers and presidents, using minimalist bass, guitar, and drum lines to drive the point home. Listen a bit further, and you might start to think it tends more towards the hip-hop world, utilizing Smith’s hilarious spoken-word tactics over Rachel Ratner’s soulful bass lines and atypical keyboard schemes (the equine-obsessed “Dfwth”, the sexy, firearm-influenced “Bang”). And then there’s my personal favorite, “Hi-5 Heaven”, a brief monster-mash yarn about the trials and delights of slappin’ some skin. Weighty material, indeed. Unfortunately, the real prize is the live performance, as the recordings don’t quite do it justice. Fortunately for us here in Seattle, they play all the freakin’ time.

9. Love of Diagrams – Mosaic (Matador)

“You came in with flying colors! You came in!” Such is the exclamation of bassist/vocalist Antonia Sellbach during “Pace or the Patience”, and while she likely wasn’t referring to her own band, Aussie post-punkers Love of Diagrams, she might as well have been. Paced by Sellbach’s vicious bass and emotive vocals, this threesome out of Melbourne have definitely passed the test on their first stateside LP. The album feels haunted by yesterday’s no-wave heroes at times, frenetically tense at others. Guitarist/vocalist Luke Horton plays his instrument dutifully, both as a backdrop to the prominent rhythm section (“The Pyramid”, “At 100%”) and as a side-by-side caterwaul to Sellbach’s gut wrenching bass (“Form and Function”, “All the Time”). And while much of the music evokes a darker, geometric gloom, there are points of light that set this effort aside from other such calculated groups: the peaks and valleys in “Confrontation”, Sellbach’s inclination to powerfully belt her choruses. With such a strong reckoning this time around, I can’t help but expect future success for this group.

8. The White Stripes – Icky Thump (Warner Bros.)

The White Stripes will always hold a special place in my heart. It was about 5 years ago that I first laid ears on White Blood Cells, and it single-handedly renewed my faith in contemporary rock music. Granted, there was stuff I missed, albums I neglected; but as soon as I got a hold of these garage-rock monsters’ 3rd album, I was looking at the musical landscape with an entirely new set of eyes. I quickly fell in love with De Stijl and Elephant, and later their eponymous debut. Given that I essentially ignored Get Behind Me Satan, it’s quite satisfying that I have such a high opinion of this year’s Icky Thump. Jack White is flawless with his guitar manifestos (despite his obvious devotion to the Jimmy Page Religion of Rock) and Meg continues to be his steady sidekick. And while oddball cuts like cover song “Conquest” and the playful “Rag and Bone” suggest that the Stripes won’t be succumbing to major label manipulation anytime soon, it’s important to note that they’re not afraid to continue making good ol’ fashioned rock ‘n roll. “Bone Broke” and “I’m Slowly Turning Into You” flaunt the impressive brevity the Stripes impose on their own songwriting. “Little Cream Soda” is a hazy-blues tune Eddie Van Halen would be proud of, and “A Martyr For My Love For You” exemplifies the delicate strength of Jack’s storytelling. Here’s to the future of the musical landscape.

7. Grinderman (Anti-)

Why do I feel like no one is talking about this album? Am I deaf? Are they not talking loud enough? Damn them… Whatever it is, I’m here to pay my respects. Grinderman (aka Nick Cave & the mini-Bad Seeds) is the latest incarnation from the Aussie booze-poet and his fellow miscreants, and I was decidedly smitten upon first listen. From the back-alley balladeering of “Electric Alice” to the bombastic bravado of “Get It On” (“I’ve got some words of wisdom,” he chants) Nick Cave has once again maintained relevance in a music world where punk and garage rock outfits are a dime-a-dozen. Fuzzy, metronomic guitars are aplenty. Lewd, rude, and bawdy narration is copious. Drum skins are clobbered like a drunken fool shootin’ his mouth off. You can’t help but laugh and sing-speak along with the snarling frustration on the explosive “No Pussy Blues”. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a track that gives you more swagger than the electric-organ drenched “Honey Bee (Let’s Fly To Mars)”. Sure it’s macho, sure it’s indulgent, but, man, it is fucking fun.

Popularity: 16%