Whatever Gets You through the Day: Carolina Chocolate Drops

2010-04-06T18:29:51Z

Work is work. Even on the best of days, the rewards-to-frustrations ratio can be wildly variable. When that happens, the right music can make all the difference. Here's what's getting me through the day today.

05 Cornbread and Butterbeans.mp3

The Carolina Chocolate Drops are getting a lot of attention for their old-timey acoustic version of "Hit 'Em Up Style," but because I'm a crotchety old man I don't even know what they're referencing. It's a good song, but there's a danger of them becoming a novelty act for the NPR crowd. It's the same trap that may well have befallen the Gourds after their bluegrassy romp through "Gin and Juice." Like the Gourds, though, these people are the real deal, and I'm on my third run through this disc today.

I suspect there's a lot of purism within the old-time string band community, and there might be people who object to the cross-pollination of this music. I say nuts to them. Keeping music, whether its jazz or old-time string band music or rock and/or roll, frozen in amber is the fastest way to kill it off forever. Frankly it's encouraging that young people have carried on this tradition (the Drops formed when they were all in their 20s). If they're bringing their own experiences to the music, then bully for them.

The Great Lenten News Blackout of 2010

2010-03-31T16:02:09Z

Since becoming a Christian, I've been a little hit-or-miss about Lent. The idea of giving something up for the forty days from Ash Wednesday to Easter isn't a major tenet of my church; they figure if you want to, knock yourself out, but it's not a deal-breaker with the Big Guy. So I've only observed Lent when I had a really good idea. One year I gave up recreational internet usage. Another year I gave up bathing.

This year I gave up the news. NPR, the New York Times, Salon, Slate and the Google News pages were all put on Leechblock (a service of Firefox that I wholeheartedly endorse), as were all those opinion pages whose job is to make you angry at what those scoundrels on the right did yesterday. ("She wrote stuff on her hand! Her HAND!") I wasn't looking to become a hermit necessarily; I figured some information was bound to trickle in. I just wasn't going to actively seek it out. It's too easy to disappear down the rabbit hole of information and (most aggravatingly) opinion. And that's what gets under your skin, angries up the blood and ruins what could be a perfectly pleasant day.

I settled in for what I was pretty sure was going to be forty white-knuckle days of deprivation. Then something odd happened. I found myself really enjoying the Lenten News Blackout. Enough information seeped through that I wasn't completely in the dark. Tiger Woods? Check. Health care reform? Check. Corey Haim? Check and mate.

But the best part was that I wasn't subjected to the endless opinionating and bloviating that makes up 80% of all news coverage these days. NYT blogs and columns, NPR's "in-depth" coverage, and everything on Slate and Salon -- it's all "analysis," which is mediaspeak for guesses from people who aren't any smarter than you or I. Frankly, it's hard enough to hear a constant stream of political opinions from my friends and friends of friends on Facebook, let alone muster up the wherewithal to have another argument in my mind with Ross Douchehat and the random idiots who leave comments everywhere. This Lent has been like a vacation from the non-stop conga line of opinions, which as we all know are like anuses -- everyone has one and no one wants to hear about yours.

We used to live in a time when there wasn't a 24-hour news cycle, when the half-hour's worth of stuff that happened that day could be summarized for you in, well, a half an hour. I miss those days, and this Lenten News Blackout has given me a chance to revisit that time, when the signal-to-noise ratio was a little bit higher. Easter is coming, and for most people it will be a chance to pig out on chocolate or gorge themselves on french fries or get caught up on all that pornography they've missed. But I'm not so sure I'm ready to go back just yet.

Plus, not futzing around on the computer in the evenings has gotten me caught up with some great music. Have you heard this? This is what I listened to last Wednesday instead of hearing about the latest reason I should be mad at Bill O'Reilly.

03 Equinox.mp3

Well Done, Mr. Mose

2010-03-23T19:48:40Z

A pleasant little surprise today -- it turns out that the Sage of Tippo himself, Mr. Mose Allison has a new album out today. The Way of the World is on the Anti label and was produced by Joe Henry, so I was all set for the kind of approach Henry provided so perfectly for Solomon Burke a few years back, with more guest writers and a rebranding for the NPR crowd. And although the record does have an earthier tone than Allison's 1990s Blue Note discs (including some swampy blues guitar from Greg Leisz), it's still very much Mose being Mose, which is always welcome news.

At 82, Allison's wit remains as sharp as ever, fixed as it is on himself in "My Brain" (which is "always workin' / as long as you got that coffee perkin') and society as a whole on "I Know You Didn't Mean It." "Modest Proposal," meanwhile, suggests we might do well to "give God a vacation" after being "24 hours a day on call," allowing us a chance to "start making sense today." In these heated times, where just about everybody sounds like a wacko, that doesn't sound all that crazy.

All these sentiments are delivered in Allison's trademark Southern gentleman's drawl, which lends an air of decorum to the proceedings. The songs are shorter on The Way of the World, too, with a lot less soloing that you'd expect from a jazz release. That's a positive too; Mose's strong suit has always been his lyrics, and this approach keeps things focused quite nicely. This might not be the ideal introduction to Mose Allison -- I'd start with his '60s work on Atlantic, but it's a terrific indication that his brain is, as he says, always tickin'.

My Brain.mp3

The Big To-Do

2010-03-22T17:35:21Z

Based on a cursory glance around the webs, the line on the latest Drive By Truckers appears to be that it's a typically solid effort from the group, and the subtext seems to be that that's a little disappointing. Even though Patterson Hood is quietly establishing himself as one of the great songwriters, and Mike Cooley has not, to my knowledge, recorded a bad song yet, people seem to be holding this disc at arm's length. For all the good reviews, I'm getting the sense that folks are still expecting them to make the Great American Rock Album, Post-Millennial Edition. They may not be sure what that means, but they're pretty sure The Big To-Do isn't it.

Never mind, of course, that this is the same group that made its name singing borderline novelties like "Buttholeville" and "Demonic Possession," so the level of growth they've demonstrated is pretty impressive. (I liked the Truckers during those days, but I really prefer them now that they're less afraid to play it straight.) Even songs that could have been played for laughs (This Fucking Job, The Fourth Night of My Drinking) carry a touch of gravitas.

And while 2008's Brighter Than Creation's Dark led off with the beautiful but not especially rousing "Two Daughters and a Beautiful Wife," which set an appropriately somber tone, The Big To-Do kicks off on just the right note with the Damn the Torpedoes-esque "Daddy Learned to Fly." Kudos to Hood and Co. for thinking in terms of the glories of the right Side-1/Track-1.

In this day and age we expect great statements to arrive fully formed. But I'll wager that that hasn't really been the case since the days of Sgt. Pepper, and the fear of being called a hipster/poser/dad rocker has led to a lot of bet-hedging and wishy-washy 3-star reviews. So allow me: The Big To-Do is a terrific album. This is one I'll be revisiting quite a bit. 11 and a half stars.

Daddy Learned To Fly.mp3

Farewell, High Priest

2010-03-19T17:19:16Z

Well, it all started out innocently enough. The entire Qualifier staff planned a retreat where we could generally get our heads together to make 2010 a blogging year to remember. But what began as a three-day retreat gradually devolved into a two-month long quagmire of bitter recriminations, passive-aggressive lashing out and hurled crockery. We had only just begun to pick up all the figurative and literal pieces when the horrible news came over the telex that Alex Chilton had died. Instinctively, we re-bonded in the name of musical geekery, and here we are again.

I kid, but Chilton's death was a blow, and it did get me to thinking about writing again. I'll begin with this appreciation, and then I've got some other stuff planned starting next week. Time's always a-wastin', it turns out.

There have been a lot of earnest appreciations of Chilton's work with Big Star, and while I do dearly love those three discs (acquiring an original 1972 Ardent pressing of #1 Record was one of the major highlights of my vinyl buying career), I came by his music through his less-discussed solo work. In 1988 he released his "comeback" album High Priest, and I was immediately drawn into his sloppy, funky guitar playing and withering drawl. It wasn't the blues, exactly, but for a suburban college kid trying to navigate the music beyond the local classic rock station, it was just the right fit.

In interviews, Chilton was always dismissive of the Big Star years, and I get the impression that stems from the general unpleasantness of that time -- broken friendships and bad drugs. He seemed happier about his Box Tops days, and happier still to be playing the New Orleans infused R&B/rockabilly blend that populated his later albums. I got out his last studio album 2000's Set *, for my drive to work yesterday, and was reminded once again of just what a great guitarist he was. He careens from chunky jazz chords into rockabilly leads all the time, creating the illusion that it could all go off the rails at any time.

Give his version of "There Will Never Be Another You" a listen, and remember Alex Chilton in his element. Then go listen to more.

08 There Will Never Be Another You.mp3

* Called Loose Shoes and Tight Pussy in Europe, where apparently they enjoy a good Earl Butz reference more than we do.

The Best of the Decade: And the Rest...

2010-01-22T20:38:12Z

Presented in no particular order and without comment, here's the rest of the stuff that made this decade a lot better than Time Magazine would have you believe:

The Hold Steady: Separation Sunday

Dirty Projectors: Bitte Orca

The Gourds: Cow Fish Fowl or Pig

New Pornographers: Challengers

Josh Ritter: Hello Starling

Josh Rouse: 1972

Drive By Truckers: Brighter than Creation's Dark

The Hold Steady: Stay Positive

Art Brut: Bang Bang Rock & Roll

Lupe Fiasco: Food and Liquor

Brian Wilson: Smile

Ron Sexsmith: Exit Strategy of the Soul

Drive By Truckers: A Blessing and a Curse

Sufjan Stevens: Illinois

Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros: Global a-Go-Go

Neko Case: Fox Confessor Brings the Flood

Soundtrack: I'm Not There

Lambchop: Nixon

Roll with You: Eli Reed and the Paperboys

Spoon: Gimme Fiction

XTC: Wasp Star: Apple Venus, Vol. 2

Laura Viers: Saltbreakers

Okkervil River: The Stage Names

Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane: Live at Carnegie Hall

Accelerate: R.E.M.

White Stripes: White Blood Cells

Fleet Foxes: Fleet Foxes

Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins: Rabbit Fur Coat

Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago

Joe Henry: Scar

Randy Newman: Harps and Angels

Wilco: Sky Blue Sky

Avett Brothers: I and Love and You

Dirty Projectors: Rise Above

The Bad Plus: Prog

Loretta Lynn: Van Lear Rose

Paul Simon: Surprise

Midlake: The Trials of Von Occupanther

Radiohead: In Rainbows

Josh Ritter: The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter

Arctic Monkeys: Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not

Dr. Dog: Fate

The Wood Brothers: Ways Not to Lose

Lay It Down: Al Green

Kings of Leon: Youth and Young Manhood

She & Him: She & Him

Girl Talk: Feed the Animals

Best of the Decade #1: The Hold Steady

2010-01-22T20:15:06Z

Considering how straight-ahead/major key/easily accessible the Hold Steady's third album, Boys and Girls in America, is, I have to say that is was for some reason a grower for me. It was the first disc that Fresh and I reviewed for the Chicken Dinner Newspaper, and maybe I was just trying too hard to listen like a critic. But no matter, once this record got its hooks in me, it never really let go. In December 2006 I was giving a bit of a shrug; in February 2007 I found myself humming "You Can Make Him Like You" while Mrs. Q was looking at picture frames at Ikea. By the time spring had rolled around I was listening to it on repeat in the car for days on end. Since then I've seen the group twice, which is purt-near a Herculean feat for a guy who doesn't make it to 10:30 p.m. all that much anymore.

Sure, by the time Boys and Girls came around, the Hold Steady had introduced enough bar-band big beat into their act that it was sure to resonate with an old-timey guy like me. But even so, Craig Finn brings a novelist's touch to his tales of teenage wastelandery and pill-fueled mayhem. He's become one of the smartest lyricists in rock, and I find his efforts to sing a bit more (rather than just make like a Midwestern Mark E. Smith) to be more than welcome.

Is the group's preceding Separation Sunday a "better" album? Hard to say, and it was certainly a contender for this list, but I'm giving the advantage to Boys and Girls in America if for no other reason than it's the disc that yanked me out of my vintage vinyl comfort zone and back into the modern age. It might not have been that far of a trip, but it was just what a guy who was looking at the wrong side of forty needed.

03 Hot Soft Light.mp3

Best of the Decade #2: The Gourds

2010-01-20T20:16:41Z

If you had asked me a few years ago, I would have told you that the Gourds were on their way to much bigger things. Like most people, I first heard about the group via their cover of Snoop Dogg's "Gin and Juice." Unlike most people, though, I wasn't under the impression that it was Phish performing (thanks for nothing, mislabeled Napster files!). As I went digging, I discovered that this was a terrific roots-rock group led by two accomplished songwriters, Jimmy Smith and Kev Russell. And when Bolsa de Agua dropped in September 2000, I was convinced that it was just a matter of time before more folks got on the trolley.

From the first seconds of the first track, "El Paso," I was swept away. I was reminded of course of the Band, and their lyrics reminded me of Dylan at his most playful. They're lyrics that your brain wants to chew on like Bazooka, and they're also surprisingly literate. They even pilfer a bit from Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca for "Flamenco Cabaret" and tackle religion here and there ("Jesus Christ with Signs Following," "Hallelujah Shine").

Over the years, it seems that their bluegrass proficiency may have attracted the attention of the jam-band crowd. Maybe that does the band a disservice (or maybe I'm being overly intolerant of jam-bands*), but it has made me slightly less reluctant to shout my Gourds love from the rooftops. Still and all, they've made consistently good, and occasionally great, albums throughout the decade, and they belong at the #2 spot if for no other reason than the fact that just about everyone I've played this record for has become a convert. That's tough to do in this increasingly fragmented age.

09 Hallelujah Shine.mp3

*No, I'm not.

Best of the Decade #3: Bob Dylan

2010-01-18T19:01:19Z

If you know me, you know this was pretty well unavoidable. There was bound to be some Bob on this list somewhere. But even if I weren't a touch obsessed with our boy Zimmy, this album was bound to be contender regardless.

The 1980s and '90s were a difficult time for Dylan. He was releasing terrible albums, his live shows were a shambles, and he was well on his way toward squandering his status as a rock pioneer. Plenty of people my age and younger were writing him off altogether. But then something extraordinary occurred -- Bob Dylan found his voice again. In 1997 he released Time Out of Mind, a dark rumination on mortality that stands among his very best work.

Of course, Bob's done this to us before; he's followed up rubbish with brilliance and then just as quickly reverted back to rubbish. So while optimism was cautious at best when the time came for a follow-up, there was good reason to be cheerful when he released Love and Theft, a far lighter affair that replaced the swampy bubblings of Time Out of Mind with dashes of rockabilly, gutsy, uptempo blues and pre-rock croonery.

I'll never forget the morning I first heard it, in fact. It was the day the album came out. I drove along under a cerulean blue sky, my fingers tapping on the steering wheel as I made my way to my job as a news guy. As I moseyed in, still humming a bit of "Summer Days," I was puzzled by the tension in people's faces. September 11, 2001.

03 Summer Days.mp3

It's a little hard not to link the two in my mind, but Love and Theft was the album that I'd turn to when the 9/11 news, and the ensuing "analysis," got to be too much. With its references to knock-knock jokes, booty calls and Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, it still offers a welcome respite.

Best of the Decade #4: Tom Waits

2010-01-11T15:04:38Z

This is going to sound like heresy to some people, but I've had a sense that Tom Waits spent a lot of this decade treading water. Blood Money, Alice and Real Gone are fine albums, but how much they really add to Waits' repertoire is debatable. I can say I haven't dug them out all that often since I first bought them. But as soon as I heard about Orphans, this inveterate Waits bootleg collector was intrigued. Collecting the stray tracks from compilations and soundtracks and adding leftover songs from previous albums in one three-disc set, Waits is creating an alternate history of his post-Island career. And while the results might make for a collection too rich to take in all at once, it's great fun to dip into.

For a while there, it seemed that no tribute albums could be released without Waits contributing a track. Orphans offers his take on acts as diverse as Kurt Weill and the Ramones, plus songs that appeared on the soundtrack to everything from Dead Man Walking to Shrek 2.

The set is divided between Brawlers (tougher, bluesier numbers), Bawlers (tender ballads) and Bastards (selections from Waits' own cavalcade of human oddities). You'll laugh, you'll cry, and you'll probably also get a little creeped out. Regardless of which Waits you're in the mood for. Sometimes it takes a good closet cleaning to get the inspiration flowing again. Orphans has me looking forward to wherever Waits' muse takes him next.

16 Take Care of All My Children.wma

Best of the Decade #5: Drive-By Truckers

2010-01-07T19:59:00Z

Throughout the sad and fetid 1990s, there was a real sense among indie types that you had to play it dumb. The idea of anything as ambitious as a rock opera was completely laughable -- the whole thing would smack of effort. As the decade turned, the trends turned more toward your more well-scrubbed literate types, and it ended up getting a mite too twee up in here. The new groups might be more willing to take on a bigger challenge, but the results would probably involve 18th century whaling towns or a man who loves and owl or some such nonsense. But the #5 album, the Drive-By Truckers' Southern Rock Opera, manages to plow right down the middle sweet spot between ambition and earthiness.

By taking the mythos surrounding boogie boys Lynyrd Skynyrd and using it to illustrate one young man's relationship with the South, its people and its culture, chief Trucker Patterson Hood created an American Quadrophenia. Hood wrestles with the stereotypes that exist, and in the process moved the band from a borderline alt-country novelty act up into the next tier of songwriters. Along the way, Hood is ably abetted by his longtime counterpart/secret weapon Mike Cooley, who turns in songs that perfectly complement the storyline, even if they don't necessarily further the "plot" of the opera.

To my way of thinking, the Truckers would extend their songwriting further on later albums, especially A Blessing and a Curse. But this initial leap forward, conceived and recorded just as the decades were changing hands, is what merits inclusion on the big list.

01 Let There Be Rock.mp3

Best of the Decade #6: The Libertines

2010-01-06T16:48:43Z

I didn't realize until I made this list, but I spent a goodly amount of time rocking hard in the '00s. And by hard I mean hard, baby. Underneath my staid personality, apparently, lay a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm. A coiled spring. A powderkeg of reckless abandon cleverly disguised as a suburban middle aged doofus. Thunder in a teapot, man, a permanent tidal wave in a notion of dynamite.

Or something like that.

Here we are at #6 on the Best of the Decade, Up the Bracket, and I'm chair dancing and head nodding my way into what passes for a frenzy in this cubicle. Combining punk smashery with that peculiar brand of English melodicism places, for this listener, the Libertines in the chain of great Brit-rockers, from the early Who and Kinks to the Buzzcocks and Jam to these guys to -- what? The Arctic Monkeys first album? That's about as close as I've gotten since the Libertines split.

The Libertines' first album proffered, like the Sex Pistols and the New York Dolls before them, a manifesto that required no further comment (even though they made one anyway). The poppy chord progressions are proof that they weren't the slopmeisters that they'd have you believe. They also weren't afraid to swing a little (on "Begging," for instance) or even come over a little McCartneyesque, as on the cheekily acoustic "Radio America."

But it's the bracing rockers that will make this a fixture in my player for years to come. Songs such as "Vertigo," "Horrorshow," and "The Boy Looked at Johnny" kept a worn-down 30something guy from giving up on the rock in 2002, and I expect it will be a similarly potent tonic in 2032.

The Boy Looked At Johnny.mp3

Best of the Decade #7: The New Pornographers

2010-01-04T18:24:40Z

Although I'm pretty sure I end up on some sort of watchlist every time I type this group's name into the Internet, my #7 pick, The New Pornographers' Twin Cinema has become a go-to album whenever I need a shot of adrenaline to get me through my working day. The key here is the opening/title track.

As someone who tends to listen to albums in their entirety (except when I'm on the treadmill), that opening track makes all the difference. Call it instant gratification, but if that side 1/track 1 sets just the mood you're looking for, then Bob's your uncle. Even if the follow-up track ("The Bones of an Idol") takes the mood down considerably, "Twin Cinema" (the song) has just the right stomp and sass to convince me to throw this disc on. I'm never disappointed.

Lyrically, I have very little idea what these people are on about, and I suspect they don't either, but it's always fun to hear them declaim such borderline nonsense with such certitude. ¡Viva ironic fist-pumpery!

01 Twin Cinema

Best of the Decade #8: Cat Power

2009-12-30T17:29:18Z

In the late 1990s I worked in a record store, so I got pretty well acquainted with the new releases and the modern sounds that the young people were digging. During the first part of the '00s, though, I found myself firmly ensconced in the past, and owning a vintage vinyl shop for a couple years only walled me off further from the present. Since then, I've had a pretty good time catching up.

As much as I've enjoyed reconnecting with contemporary music during this decade, though, I still find myself drawn toward artists and albums that wear their connections to the past on their sleeves, and my #8 pick, Cat Power's The Greatest does just that. Incorporating veterans from Al Green's old band (Teenie Hodges!) might have struck some as a blatant cred grab, and if the songs hadn't measured up it might have been. They do, though, and the result is a beautiful mix of classic soul and indie pop. The little touches of torchiness ("Where Is My Love") and honky-tonkery ("After It All") keep the cohesiveness from slipping into bland sameness.

The Greatest was Chan Marshall's first album of all-original material, and at the time it seemed very much like an artist coming into her own. Curiously, I was very much looking forward to her all-covers follow-up, Jukebox, and while I enjoy that one overall, it's this album that I'll carry with me into future decades.

Lived In Bars

Best of the Decade #9: Flaming Lips

2009-12-28T18:33:43Z

I don't remember exactly which year the band I was in opened for the Flaming Lips, but I do recall two things about the evening.

They were so loud that the police showed up during the sound check (the song they played was a cover of A Flock of Seagulls' "Space Age Love Song").
I stayed in the other room that night and worked the merch table instead of checking them out.

I think I was a little burned out on alt-rock by that time, and the Flaming Lips hadn't made their move toward the almost Wings-esque sounds of 1999's The Soft Bulletin, so perhaps I can be forgiven for my philistinism.

Even so, I doubt it would have adequately set me up for the one-two punch of Soft Bulletin and the album I'm including here, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. Maybe it just came along at the right time; Mrs. Q and I had just closed up our vintage vinyl shop and I had just started a new job when I first heard this disc, which wears its melancholy so proudly.

The critic Nik Cohn has a line about Pet Sounds where he describes that album as "sad songs about sadness and sad songs about happiness." That seems apt here as well. The obvious standout track here is "Do You Realize??" in which lead singer/superfluous punctuation enthusiast Wayne Coyne offers up a bit of stoner wisdom and in the process creates my pick for the song of the decade (there, I said it). (I first heard this track a couple years before I heard the disc in its entirety, as I was going through a few other tumultuous upheavals, but that's a story for another time.)

So in the end, this might not be the most adventurous pick on this list, but in many ways it's the most personal. We got diminishing returns from the group with their next album, At War with the Mystics, but Yoshimi more than ensures the Lips' place in the pantheon.

09 Do You Realize--.mp3