By Chris Gray
By Corey Deiterman
By Jef With One F
By Chris Gray
By Rocks Off
By Rocks Off
Don't believe the hype. The album is alive and well and procreating furiously. Too furiously.
Printed out, the Wikipedia entry for albums released in 2008 — itself far from a complete list — spans 29 pages. Noise got maybe a fifth of those in the mail, and in turn listened to maybe a fifth of those. If a band has a new album, he generally waits to see them live to decide whether to bother with the record — and if they're not headed this way anytime soon, he may not even unwrap it at all.
Listening to new music is only part of this job, which is basically to listen to as much music as possible. That includes a lot of MySpace pages, live music several nights a week, way too many YouTube videos and a shit-ton of satellite radio. Not to mention the two foot-high stacks of all-time faves on Noise's desk at home, and the 500-strong CD booklet on his kitchen table.
It was kind of a rough year personally — but on the flip side, a fuckin' blast most of the time — and Noise won't bore you with the details any more than any other week. But the end result, musically, was that in his down time, not a whole lot of new stuff made it onto the turntable, and even fewer new artists did. Noise went to SXSW, he saw the class of 2008 and, with a couple of exceptions (MGMT, Monotonix), wasn't that impressed. As Nick Cave said on Dig Lazarus Dig!!!, "More News from Nowhere."
In some approximate order, the non-2008 albums Noise listened to most in 2008 were as follows: Pretenders, Learning to Crawl; Rolling Stones, Sticky Fingers; The Band, The Last Waltz; Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Damn the Torpedoes; Bob Dylan, Love & Theft; The Byrds, Sweethearts of the Rodeo; Wilco, A.M.; Guns N' Roses, Appetite for Destruction; Wilco, A Ghost Is Born; and the White Stripes, Elephant/Stevie Nicks, Bella Donna (tie).
It was a good year for the blues and ballsy rock chicks. But ain't they all?
Similarly, the new albums Noise enjoyed most were, for the most part, by people he was well familiar with who did some of their best work in years. Or, in some cases, a year. For whatever reasons, as many albums as there are, these are the ones Noise figured were worth hanging onto from ye olde '08. Even after only hearing some for the first or second time, he's pretty sure he's right.
The music that lasts is the music that counts. For all but a couple 2008 albums, their true merit and impact remains to be seen. Which is just fine — it's not like people are going to stop making them anytime soon. More, in fact, are already on the way.
Mudcrutch, Mudcrutch (Reprise): A wise man once said the past isn't prologue; it's not even past. Tom Petty and fellow Heartbreakers Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench got the old band back together — the one that lasted exactly one single after moving from Florida to L.A. — and, live in the studio, cut an album that immediately takes its place alongside Poco and the Flying Burrito Brothers in the country-rock pantheon.
Dabbling in everything from languid psychedelia ("Crystal River") to deadpan boogie ("Bootleg Flyer"), Mudcrutch is the best Petty-spawned album since its natural analogue Wildflowers, and a fascinating study in what might have been. The gorgeous ballad "Orphan from the Storm," about an ex-junkie displaced to Houston after Katrina, is the best song about Southeast Texas since Jimmy Webb's "Galveston," and took on even more poignancy after Ike.
Metallica, Death Magnetic (Warner Bros.): Make all the Guitar Hero jokes you want — and Metallica's savvily releasing Magnetic as a ready-to-play iTunes download brought on plenty — this album rips and snorts like a soon-to-be castrated bull. Producer Rick Rubin proved a much better therapist than that dude from Some Kind of Monster, returning Metallica to the take-no-prisoners aesthetic of Master of Puppets and Ride the Lightning. More a retrenchment than a retreat, Magnetic will indeed hunt you down "All Nightmare Long." That was just your life, after all.
See also: AC/DC, Black Ice; Nine Inch Nails, Ghosts I-IV; Ministry, Cover Up
Silver Jews, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea (Drag City): Effectively, former Pavement satellite member David Berman is Silver Jews, and that he's also a published poet should be manifest to anyone who hears this wonderfully melancholy album. Berman turns his bone-shaving pen on characters ("Aloysius, Bluegrass Drummer"), scenes ("San Francisco B.C.") and the bedroom ("My Pillow Is the Threshold") with a clarity and sometimes-uncomfortable honesty that suggests nothing less than an indie-rock Johnny Cash. (Really.)
The country-tinged arrangements sparkle with the wistfulness of too many regrets, and considering Berman's wife Cassie is also a Silver Jew, it shouldn't be terribly surprising that "We Could Be Looking for the Same Thing" is the almost-love song of the year.