Thursday, January 21, 2010

Yes, it’s officially official

That thing you might have heard about how the New York Times is going to start charging for online access?

  • “It’s official. The New York Times says it will stop giving away its expensive-to-produce paper online and institute a metered model a la the Financial Times Web site.” (Columbia Journalism Review)

  • “It’s official: the NYT is putting up an FT-style paywall.” (Felix Salmon)

  • “It’s official: the New York Times is going to start charging for its website at the beginning of 2011.” (Gawker)

  • “It’s Official: Your Online New York Times Will Come at a Price” (Blogging Stocks)

  • “It’s Official: New York Times to Charge for Online Content” (The Wrap)

  • “It’s Official: NYT To Start Charging For Content In 2011” (Mediaite)

  • “It’s Official: New York Times Will Adopt Online Meter—But Not Until 2011” (Paid Content)

  • “It’s official: The New York Times will implement a metered pay wall in 2011” (Media Bistro)

  • “It’s Official – NY Times To Charge For Online Content” (Franklin Center)

  • “The New York Times has made it official: It’s going to charge for access under certain conditions starting in 2011.” (CNET)

  • “It started as a media industry murmur, but now it’s official: the New York Times, the most popular online newspaper in the U.S., will begin charging for access to its web site content.” (Lifehacker)

And in the other news of the day:

  • “It’s Official, World: Vampire Weekend’s Contra Is America’s #1 Record” (Village Voice)

  • “It’s official: Vampire Weekend have gone from indie rock sensations to the nation’s biggest musical act!” (Spin)

  • “It’s official. XL score first US number one album on a UK indie in 19 years. Vampire Weekend top Billboard album chart with ‘Contra’ ”(XL)

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Polish poster for ‘Some Like It Hot’


No other info for this extremely awesome poster, which comes via Shivadogblog. It’s not the same image as the one below, listed as Poland’s Some Like It Hot poster on MovieposterDB:


Vintage Polish book covers





A Journey Round My Skull’s Flickr has lots more Polish covers, and amazing sets of vintage Iranian children’s books, Turkish books and Indian books, among many others.

(Via.)

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Best of 2009

For fun, and for explanatory exhaustion, I’m keeping my blurbs to four words apiece:

1. Wye Oak, The Knot. Brave hurricane of feeling.
2. Dirty Projectors, Bitte Orca. Decade’s boldest indie vision.
3. Fool’s Gold. Hot, culturally malleable Afroism.
4. Bat for Lashes, Two Suns. Arty eye, amorous heart.
5. Amadou et Mariam, Welcome to Mali. Cosmopolitan Bamako blues, smiling.
6. Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest. Harmony dreams, almost vertigo.
7. Micachu and the Shapes, Jewellery. Re-sculpted rubbish. Rauschenberg? Punk.
8. Jason Lytle, Yours Truly, the Commuter. Outsider’s diary, finally outside.
9. The Almighty Defenders. Delicious degeneracy. (Sorry, Sam!)
10. Antony and the Johnsons, The Crying Light. Pastoralism eulogized pastorally, eerliy.

Also recommended:

Neko Case, Middle Cyclone
Cryptacize, Mythomania
Cymbals Eat Guitars, Why There Are Mountains
Dinosaur Jr., Farm
Florence and the Machine, Lungs
Girls, Album
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
Phoenix, Wolfgang Amadeus Pheonix
Regina Spektor, Far
The Very Best, Warm Heart of Africa
Vivian Girls, Everything Goes Wrong
M. Ward, Hold Time
Wilco, Wilco (The Album)

Worst album of 2009 (tie):

Ray Davies, The Kinks Choral Collection
Decemberists, The Hazards of Love

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Best of the decade

My list:

1. Radiohead, Kid A (2000)
2. Spoon, Kill the Moonlight (2002)
3. M.I.A., Arular (2005)
4. Arcade Fire, Funeral (2004)
5. 50 Cent, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ (2003)
6. Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)
7. Nick Lowe, The Convincer (2001)
8. The Shins, Oh, Inverted World (2001)
9. Kanye West, The College Dropout (2004)
10. Cat Power, The Greatest (2006)

(Average is 2002.8, slightly on the fogy side.)

The next 10:

11. Webb Brothers, Maroon (2000)
12. Salif Keita, Moffou (2002)
13. Feist, The Reminder (2007)
14. Dirty Projectors, Bitte Orca (2009)
15. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, Raising Sand (2007)
16. Teenage Fanclub, Howdy! (2000)
17. White Stripes, White Blood Cells (2001)
18. Beyoncé, Dangerously in Love (2003)
19. Grandaddy, Sumday (2003)
20. Camille, Le Fil (2006)

Decade postmortem: 2007 and 2008

Having gone through a decade of old top 10s, I’ve been thinking about the two contrary motives involved in putting these things together. On one hand, the lists express personal tastes, more emotional than analytical. And since they are usually cranked out on deadline at the end of the year, they can be inexact, first-draft statements reflecting a moment in time; it’s like a postmortem temperature taken while the body is still warm. This gut-level impulse tends to favor more unpredictable, less popular picks: fanboy plugs, showoff-y picks, oppositional stances.

On the other hand, you’re making broad statements about the state of music, and there have to be real criteria for that judgment. Less impressively, critics want to look smart to other critics, and that means balancing a certain number of obscurities with a certain number of choices in common, which function as trade credentials. This is the more calculating approach, and it’s the mindset of collective editorial lists at magazines and websites. With the imprimatur of a publication, personal feelings are minimized (as is the blame for erroneous or lame picks), and these lists end up being more official and predictable, in line with the consensus; in fact, they establish consensus.

Neither approach is right or wrong; they work together. But looking back years later it’s hard to hold on to those random, contrarian choices, since the vibe you felt making them in the first place has probably faded, and the weeding process of history has rearranged the field. For example, from our point of view 10 years later, Kid A towers over the releases of 2000, but at the time it was somewhat more controversial: Pitchfork put it at No. 1 that year, but it was only No. 5 in Rolling Stone, behind Eminem, U2, D’Angelo, even Madonna’s Music.

What this means for me is that as I’ve revised my lists they have probably become more “correct” but also less interesting: fewer surprises, fewer argument-starters, less defiant advocacy. One of my favorites for 2008, for instance, was the Jonas Brothers, which caught me some shit. (Hi, Jake.) I can’t say now whether I was right or wrong about it because I haven’t listened in a year; that fact alone, however, is reason to edit that album out, since it can’t have been so great if after 12 months I don’t care.

But it’s also one of those self-correcting, conformist moments, an opportunity to replace an honest but risky lark with something safer, more familiar, “stronger.” At the same time, you’ve got to hold on to your individuality and avoid succumbing to the groupthink that can make so many of these lists tediously identical at the time they’re drawn up but then uselessly out of fashion once X number of years pass and nobody cares anymore about Northern State or Arrested Development. That, and the fact that you need to listen to lots and lots and lots of music, is why it’s hard to do this.

That’s theory. Now for practice. Here’s my original list for 2007 (and original blurbs):

1. Dirty Projectors, Rise Above
2. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, Raising Sand
3. Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
4. Battles, Mirrored
5. Feist, The Reminder
6. Amy Winehouse, Back to Black
7. M.I.A., Kala
8. Arcade Fire, Neon Bible
9. Avril Lavigne, The Best Damn Thing
10. Radiohead, In Rainbows

Scorecard: Pretty right-on, I think. Dirty Projectors blew my mind in 2007, and I still like them now. Plant/Krauss is magnificent, and Spoon added another reason for being the best band of the decade. I’m moving Feist and M.I.A. up, bumping Battles down, and replacing Avril with Deerhoof, who deserve more credit than they’ve been getting at decade’s end. Otherwise not many changes. (Nos. 11 through 20 would include Black Lips, Yeasayer, Linda Thompson, Kanye, the Frames, Miranda Lambert and Nick Lowe. And Avril.)

Kind Reader, I present my revised list for 2007:

1. Dirty Projectors, Rise Above
2. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, Raising Sand
3. Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
4. Feist, The Reminder
5. M.I.A., Kala
6. Amy Winehouse, Back to Black
7. Battles, Mirrored
8. Radiohead, In Rainbows
9. Arcade Fire, Neon Bible
10. Deerhoof, Friend Opportunity

2008 is a little trickier for me. My original list (and blurbs):

1. Vampire Weekend
2. Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago
3. Girl Talk, Feed the Animals
4. Metallica, Death Magnetic
5. TV on the Radio, Dear Science
6. Randy Newman, Harps and Angels
7. My Morning Jacket, Evil Urges
8. Black Kids, Partie Traumatic
9. Jonas Brothers, A Little Bit Longer
10. Beach House, Devotion

Looking at this, Randy Newman now feels more like an 8 or a 9 than a 6, and Black Kids and the JoBros belong in the mid-teens. But what to replace them with? The records that didn’t make my original cut were:

  • Al Green, who made a gorgeous, vibrant record with ?uestlove. Cut because Newman was more topical and exploratory, and I didn’t want two fogies.
  • Jamey Johnson. Omitted as a reaction against critical groupthink, and because I’m just not a country guy. But it’s undeniable that this is a very strong record.
  • Coldplay. Good, but it’s Coldplay.
  • She & Him. Nice, but at the time it didn’t seem terribly significant. Still doesn’t, although it’s just as sweet.
  • Lykke Li. Sort of the year’s Bjork/Feist/Regina/Fiona/Emiliana quirky-girl entry. Which “shouldn’t matter shouldn’t matter,” as Gwen would say. But it does matter because her album is not half as clever as anything by Bjork or Feist or Regina or Fiona or Emiliana.
  • Nick Cave. Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!! is great, but ... I dunno.
  • Joe Jackson. Rain is as good as anything he did 25 or 30 years ago, but you’ve got the fogy problem again. What’s 2008 about it? Why could it not have been made in 1983 or 1992 or 2005?
  • Magnetic Fields, Distortion. Another consensus choice, and despite a couple of fantaaaastic songs (“Drive On, Driver,” “California Girls”), it felt like a trifle.

Three more you see on every other list from 2008 are Kanye West’s 808s & Heartbreak, Fleet Foxes’ debut, and Tha Carter III. I still snooze thinking of Fleet Foxes, and don’t feel fully qualified to judge Lil Wayne. But Kanye’s Auto-Tune essay on isolation and misery was visionary; shoulda been in my list to begin with. He and Jamey Johnson make the cut.

So, 2008 revised:

1. Vampire Weekend
2. Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago
3. Metallica, Death Magnetic
4. Kanye West, 808s & Heartbreak
5. Girl Talk, Feed the Animals
6. Jamey Johnson, That Lonesome Song
7. My Morning Jacket, Evil Urges
8. Randy Newman, Harps and Angels
9. TV on the Radio, Dear Science
10. Beach House, Devotion

And that’s our show, folks! My 2009 list will be posted soon. Make that eventually. Well, pretty soon. Happy New Year!


Monday, January 4, 2010

More decade stuff: Return to WFUV

Photobucket

I’m not quite done with the decade yet. Still have to do postmortems on my 2007 and 2008 lists, and then of course finish up my 2009 list. I spent the holiday weekend unpacking, centering and leveling picture frames, and re-alphebetizing records, so I’m running behind. Soon, I swear.

But first. The good people at WFUV, where for two years I reviewed records every week, invited me back for a special end-o’-decade show. Claudia Marshall and I talked about a few of my shoulda-beens for the decade: amazing albums that did not get the attention they deserved at the time, and are getting even less now. Find out what I chose tomorrow morning at 8:30, on 90.7 FM in New York. They also podcast it here.

And now back to lists for me.

UPDATE: Here’s the link for the audio.