My favorite 30 songs of 2006

This list was originally going to be my favorite 20 songs of last year, but I felt like that number didn't do justice to a lot of artists whose full albums didn't "do it" for me, but still had a constant presence on my speakers. And, expanding the list to 30 meant I didn't feel required to limit the entries from a given album to just 1 song. As it is, I still "cheated", counting back-to-back songs by Be Your Own Pet and Mew as single entries... and this whole "multiples of 10" (or 5) thing is so arbitrary anyway...

Without further ado, here's what heated up my playlists in 2006:

30. "Rats" - Sonic Youth

This is sitting at the bottom spot for a reason: it's a totally begrudging nod. I hated Rather Ripped, consider it a betrayal of almost everything Sonic Youth have ever stood for, and honestly think I've finally drawn my line in the sand with them. "Rats" is the only song on RR that I've wanted to listen to repeatedly, and even my endorsement of it here comes with a huge caveat: almost everything beautiful and great about this song has been done before by SY, if not necessarily better. Thurston's hazy shimmer and minor-chord quarter note progressions, Lee's soaring whole notes and sing-speak of the vocal: this is basically "Disappearer Part Two." Don't take my word for it - listen to the two songs back-to-back and see if you don't agree. All that said, the twisty bassline that anchors all of this free-floatery is an innovation for these guys, and the choruses evoke enough of that old late-80s/early-90s SY sense of longing and journey, that I'm willing to stifle my inner critic and let it pull my head along. Not the requiem I would have chosen for them, but a good song nonetheless.

29. "Down with a High Heel" - Giddy Motors

I'm tempted to say this is the greatest Soundgarden song that Soundgarden themselves never got around to recording, and leave it at that. But trying to sum up any of the songs off Do Easy that simply is reductive and inaccurate. Sure, this is the Motors at their most straightforward, and if it was at the beginning of the album I'd be further tempted to speculate that they were trying to take it easy on us, to tempt us into the more treacherous territory that follows. It's still a restless, queasy listen: all grinding bass and serrated guitar and squealing, syncopated vocals. The long, tense, quiet section in the middle hardly dissipates the song's momentum; you just know these guys are going to come roaring back and tear your head off. Given that the last two songs on Do Easy are boring and practically unlistenable instrumentals respectively, I consider Gaverick's final tortured yelp of the word "feel" to be the perfect end to an album that is never less than uncompromising.

28. "Roses and Teeth for Ludwig Wittgenstein" - Matmos

A common complaint about movies based on books is that the film replaces the images in a reader's imagination with its own. It's a complaint less often leveled at musicians; how many live performances have you attended that unshakeably fixed an image to a song in your mind ever after? Well, I had this happen twice this year (also see #2 below), and in this case the visual made me like the song even more. I have no clue which of the many exquisitely-layered beats of this song is actually the sound of roses being pounded into a pile of petals, but there's no doubt (this is Matmos, after all) that one of them is exactly that. Power of the visual aside, this is simply a fun listen; you don't need a degree in philosophy (or biology, for that matter) to appreciate the wit of the idea of the rose's teeth, and on the flip side you don't need to get bogged down in the novelty of how the sounds are being generated to enjoy hearing them. A great opener to a consistently engaging and great album.

27. "The Movers and the Shakers" - Herbert

On this song Herbert allows his studio wizardry to show a bit more than on the rest of Scale. The found sounds aren't as buried in the mix, and at no point do all those tasteful 50s strings and brass completely take over the song; there are always burbles or boings to offset the overall lounginess of it. The beat is insistent and yet strangely static, while the instrumental melody swells and ebbs with emotion. The contrast befits a song whose lyrics decry the intersection of religion, power, and war - helplessness versus hope. "I just don't know how to bring about your downfall, damn fool... can't find peace to ring about, can't find trees to sit and celebrate... " I don't know many artists who could pull this off with such aplomb, blending so many different influences and ideas together into a song that never feels heavy or overdone.

26. "Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby" - Islands

This is exactly the kind of headfuck we've come to expect from these guys in the course of only two albums. The music is sunny and understated, and the choruses consist of nothing but "doot-doot"s straight out of the Deehoof Cuteness Playbook. So of course the lyrics are dark, full of "bones, bones, brittle little bones," not to mention the suggestive, disturbing title. But it's all fun-n-games; Islands can't even deliver the line "Open your eyes, look around you / Fuck what you heard, you were lied to" in anything less than a jaunty two-part vocal harmony. It's easiest really just to submit to its charms and not ask too many questions.

25. "Let's Make Love and Listen to Death From Above" - CSS

They claim to be tired of being sexy, but my response to the full album was opposite in both cases: tiring, and not as sexy as they think. That said, this song with its dreamy theremin keyboards and disco groovy bass manages to get it right by staying true to formula. It's best not to pay too much attention to Lovefoxxx's lyrics; just bob your head along to the way her vocal rides the beat. Hell, with Out Hud gone we need somebody to channel the Tom Tom Club, and this is frothy enough to light up the faces at your party but not linger long enough for anyone to realize, "Wow, this is great but utterly derivative."

24. "The Fuschia Wall" - 50 Foot Wave

I wondered whether Kristin Hersh could maintain the breakneck pace of 50 Foot Wave's first two releases for long, and as I suspected this year's Free Music EP traded a bit of the bombast for a renewed emphasis on dynamics. She's still playing those monolithic monster grooves, but here the boxer weaves and dances rather than just pummels you into submission. Rob Ehler's drumming is similarly restrained, accenting rather than pushing (or pulling) the song along. The descending four-note guitar riff that seems to come out of nowhere and separates the verses from the choruses is ultimately what will stick in your head, even if you're aware this is the second time she's pulled that particular trick. (The first time was on "Freeloader" ten years ago - that time the unexpected riff climbed rather than plopped, and yep, it's still what distinguishes that song.) It seemed Kristin spent most of 2006 on the road (I saw her five times in San Francisco between January and December), and spent her recording time on the just-released solo disc Learn to Sing Like a Star, so it'll be interesting to hear whether the new direction hinted at by Free Music lasts or whether this endlessly restless artist will surprise us with something newer yet.

23. "Dividing Island" - Lansing-Dreiden

It starts out lush and bombastic - tribal drums, what sounds like some exotic animal howling over the rain forest, and then a wall of synthesized strings and brass rising and falling in counterpoint. The vocal traces the same melody as the strings, hushed and breathy. This continues for three minutes, and then a single note guitar riff drops out of the sky and all of a sudden this sounds like a song from one of those 60s rock musicals like Hair or Godspell, all insistence and shouted jubilation. See, it's called "Dividing Island," and that's why it's so schizophrenic. And honestly, that's as far as I've gone to try and figure it out. Everything I read about this band suggests they take themselves a wee bit too seriously, and I've purposely not tried to figure out any of the lyrics because I want nothing (least of all the band's intentions) to interfere with my enjoyment of it's power, grace, or still-surprising transition halfway through.

22. "Farewell" - Boris

The very sound of the opening electric buzz still sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. It builds slowly, all rippling guitars and a slowly-spiraling feedback loop in the background. The drums grow more insistent, and then at 1:18 the entire sky falls on my head. And I just lay there and marvel at how something so heavy, so wall-like, can still be so pretty and nuanced. And let me state for the record that comparing this to My Bloody Valentine is lazy and stupid. The sonics might be similar, but glistening just below the surface are real melodies. Granted, they last only as long as it takes to play them, but that's just because Boris are restless. I mean, this is the first song on the album, and they're already wishing us "Farewell"??? And just where am I meant to be going with the entire sky sitting on my chest???

21. "The Wonder" - Figurines

"Hey, I didn't know the Feelies got back together?"

"Huh? The Figurines? Who are they?"

"Oh... they're from Denmark? So maybe they don't actually know that they're really blatantly ripping off early-80s jangle pop. I mean, maybe they've never heard the Feelies?"

"No, no... you're right. Hating these guys for being unoriginal is completely besides the point. Every year a flock of new indie bands will traverse this exact same territory, and whether or not they stick is irrelevant. It's a simple pleasure: either you buy into it because it's catchy, or you don't. Either way, in twenty years you'll have completely forgotten about them."

"Well, that's a good point. I still remember the Feelies because they were the first band I ever heard play this kind of strummy peppy indie pop. Hey, that's pretty funny! to think that there's some 13 year old out there who is TOTALLY going to love this song, and twenty years from now he'll be some old guy like me telling the kids that whatever indie pop band they're grooving to is just ripping off the Figurines."

"Sure, no argument - it's catchy stuff. Sure does sound like the Feelies, though..."

20. "Postcards from Italy" - Beirut

"Oh, a ukelele. How quaint," you think, and reach for the Next button. But then Zack's trembling tenor comes in, and your finger pauses. "Hm, he's got a really interesting voice," you admit. And then the martial percussion track comes in and you drop your hand and nod your head. And then! Then the Spanish trumpets pipe up and it occurs to you that this 19-year old kid is like the M.I.A. of traditional European sounds. Just as pretentious, but also just as daring and immediate. And you realize with a sinking stomach that this song is just like those thought control worms from the second Star Trek movie: it has lodged itself permanently in your brain and forever changed the way you'll hear non-rock instruments. The fucker.

19. "Tax Dollar" - Erase Errata

Jagged staccato guitar. Funky counterpoint bassline. And cowbell. LOTS of cowbell. Didn't somebody tell Erase Errata that dancepunk is DEAD??? Thankfully, they seem not to have gotten that memo - and bless their souls for carrying the torch, because this song is a gas. As could be expected following guitarist Jenny Hoyston's departure from the band, it's the percussion that's leading the charge this time around. The guitar steps up on the interlude, but only to establish the surfpunk melody for the song's central indictment: "I got away-ay, yeah I really got away... with murder! Manslaughter! All funded by my tax dollar. American bastard, murderous bitch!" It's the most thrillingly direct this band has ever been. And then the song gets all dischordant and angry sounding and falls apart in a heap. This is Erase Errata, after all.

18. "Mansfield and Cyclops" - Espers

It initially sounds like some lost relic from the 60s - finger-plucked guitar lines, weaving cello and violin, gently rolling drums, and the kind of immediately gorgeous vocal we've come to expect from this group. They could have stopped there, and this would still be a standout. But as with the rest of II, Espers hear a darkness at the heart of this song, and after two runs through the only verse, they spend a couple minutes taking us into the darkness. The basic melody gets subverted, each of the instruments floating along its own path, and the lead guitar starts dropping haunted keening figures that wouldn't have sounded out of place on late-80s Sonic Youth albums. It all unwinds with a stately grace, drifts to a stop, and then the verse reasserts itself for one more runthrough. You can get lost in the multiple details, or just ride the song's wave at its surface; either way this was one of the lovelist ways to spend six minutes in 2006.

17. "Photocopier" - Fujiya & Miyagi

The British vocalist intones in a fake French accent, "We were / just preten- / -ding to be / Japanese" and it's a tribute to how cool these guys are that their pretense doesn't feel pretentious. He follows the line "You're losing your bodily fluids" with the admonition "You're off your bleeding rocker," and leaves you to figure out in what sense the rocker is actually bleeding. I'm convinced the lyrics serve no purpose except to distract you from how effortless the music is, and the vocal rides the jam so tightly it might as well be another rhythm instrument. Elsewhere on the album, Fujiya & Miyagi inform us that they "look through transparent things and... feel OK," and really, what more do you need to know? Sometimes it's better not to think.

16. "Moving Like a Train" - Herbert

And while we're on the subject of "effortless" - this song is misleadingly titled because I don't think I've ever had a train ride that was this smooth. Of course, "Moving Like a Hovercraft" would have sounded too techno-futurist, and might have invited listeners to contemplate the way Herbert uses technology to channel 50s jazz and soul into the 21st Century. But there's no way to convincingly fake the human voice, and this song features one of the most compelling vocals on Scale. "No matter what you heard, you never heard a human make a sound like this," they sing... and it's a boast as much as it's a sly wink at this seamless integration of electronics and organics.

15. "Party" - El Perro del Mar

Sigh. It's appropriate that this song is all about sort of hating yourself (even if you don't really acknowledge it out loud) for the desperation you feel about how much you like somebody else. Because that's exactly how I feel about: THIS SONG. Honestly, what is this doing so high up on this list? By all rights I should hate this: boring strummy acoustic guitar, whiny female vocalist, and the chutzpah to use the line "Be bop, be bop a lu la" in the chorus as though it was an original sentiment. Thing is, Sarah's voice is a marvel in small doses; and unlike most of the rest of the album, this song makes its point and doesn't overstay its welcome. And really, the meta-ness of the delivery is exactly what makes it sort of great. She might be mired down in melancholy, but she's smart enough to recognize it for what it is, as well as (we presume) to recognize how it all just feeds back on itself in a vicious emotional cycle. So she all-but-begs, "Come on over, baby, there's a party going on," knowing full well it's futile, and much as I hate to admit it, I can relate. Sigh.

14. "Cement to Stone" - Lansing-Dreiden

I somehow doubt it was their intention, but this reads like the great lost track from Tears for Fears' Songs from the Big Chair. By turns woozy and direct, not afraid to show the wires and knobs behind its sonics, and a really beautiful vocal melody that haunted me into returning over and over. I'm generally not much for ballads, but this song owned my soft spot in 2006.

13. "Pseudo-Bread" - Boris

As I was obsessively listening to the songs on this list over the last couple weeks, my roommate Keith (mostly to his chagrin) also got to listen to them a lot. (Hey, it's his fault for wiring up the common areas of our apartment for sound). "Psuedo-Bread" by far evoked his most pained response. "Why do you like this?" he asked me. "What does it make you feel?" Well, first of all it makes me grin ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat. It makes me want to jump up and down, or failing that to bang my head so hard I make myself dizzy (which has happened at the gym). When I invoked the word "joy," suddenly it clicked for him. Because "joy" is an overwhelming, pure emotion. It precludes thought or even rationality. When you're caught in the grip of joy, you become an idiot. I freely admit it - this song comes on and I am its bitch. I doubt it will ever work that way for Keith, but that's just as well because our apartment isn't large enough to have two whirling ecstatic idiots banging around.

12. "Apocalypso" / "Special" - Mew

Every year needs to have a guilty pleasure, and these two songs played back-to-back were mine for 2006. I'm not buying the whole "so uncool they're cool" narrative that so many critics threw at these guys; ...and the Glass-Handed Kites is pure cheese. But hey, I allow myself some empty calories every now and then, and you might as well maximize their tastiness. The chorus of "Apocalypso" is ridiculous: chugga-chugga bass line straight out of 80s hair metal, wall of keyboards (also straight out of 80s hair metal - don't tell anyone!), stabbing guitar lines ripped from the Gene Loves Jezebel back catalog (hm, and GLJ were only ever a step away from hair metal), and that smug "soaring" vocal that dares you not to raise a lighter. Unfortunately it's also irresistable. There's a longish instrumental interlude/transition that almost threatens to derail the momentum they've built up, but then "Special" opens with its signature drum triplet (you just know these guys are still congratulating themselves for that one) and suddenly we're listening to an updated version of New Order's "True Faith." Same exact bass line, same exact keyboard chord progression. The illusion lasts for about ten seconds, and then that fey vocal kicks in and you're reminded, "Oh right. Mew." Thing is, the song is pretty great despite its obvious referents. It builds some genuine momentum as it rushes into its chorus and this time doesn't try so hard to be liked. Maybe it's because they know at this point you're hooked and wriggling, and they can afford to cut you some slack. Even more than "Party," I hate myself for loving this... but damned if I didn't listen to it a lot.

11. "Sir" - Various

The grimiest song I heard in not-so-grimey 2006 wasn't even "grime", it was "dubstep." Which just goes to show the utility of genre labels. But how do you answer the inevitable question "What does it sound like?" without invoking a comparison? Well, this sounds like Dizzee Rascal's "I Luv U" all grown up and bitter - twice the hostile atmosphere, none of the youthful enthusiasm. What consistently amazes me is how something so compelling can contain so much empty space. But perhaps Various recognizes that you'll need some recovery time in between getting stabbed by the bass, pummeled by the gunshot beats, and bewildered by the electronic frippery crawling around the edges. It's a shame that Nine Inch Nails (et al.) have already spoiled the genre term "industrial", because I could also say this song sounds like taking a guided tour of a decrepit, rusting factory. Just resist the urge to breathe, you don't know what might be in the air.

10. "Please Visit Your National Parks" - Oxford Collapse

Fucking indie rock. This song is ridiculous. The guitarist knows something like three chords, plus the three he knows how to make sound like a violin. (Which please, is so Camper Van Beethoven!)The entire song consists of two short movements in succession: A B A B, except for the part where the monotone rhythm guitar drops out so we can really hear the violin-sounding guitar solo. The chorus goes, "You should be standing right next to me / Instead of two feet in front of me / Go learn your geography" - and you just know based on that they think the title of the song is really clever.

"So," you're wondering, "what's it doing in the top ten of this list, then, smart guy?" I have to plead helplessness. Pitchfork, may they rot, included it in their "Infinite Mixtape" feature last year, I downloaded it, and upon first listen thought somebody was surely joking. But a weird thing happened as I familiarized myself with all the "IM" tracks... every next time this song came on, it burrowed straight through my ears to the pleasure center of my brain. I started finding myself humming the sing-songy vocal (which is truly the song's secret weapon). I gleefully joined in on the "oh-ee-oh-ee-oh"s in the chorus. I realized that these guys were in on the joke. My inner critic conceded the fight. I even visited a national park. I bought the album and was completely underwhelmed. But I still join in on the "oh-ee-oh-ee-oh"s.

9. "Collarbone" - Fujiya & Miyagi

I'm in endless awe at the number of contradictions "Collarbone" (and indeed, most of Transparent Things) manages to straddle. Simple and possibly even trite on the surface, the perfect background music to just about any activity, utterly unobtrusive. But listen to the details - the percussive elements or keyboards or (especially) the vocal tics that enter and exit the mix with no fanfare - and the song becomes captivating. The lyrics require only as much thought as you want to give them - you can contemplate the reasons he needs a new pair of shoes "to kick it with her," or you can just delight in the funky skeletal anatomy lesson and vocal scatting that wraps it up. This kind of ease takes hard work, actually; the difference between "just enough" and "too much" is razor thin, and this song walks that tightrope like a pro.

8. "We are the Sleepyheads" - Belle & Sebastian

The Motors aren't the only giddy members of this list. The Life Pursuit is full of great, immediate pop songs, but "We are the Sleepyheads" has always stood out for me because it's the one least like anything we've come to expect from Belle & Sebastian. I understand there's been a lot of gnashing of teeth on the part of old B&S fans who feel this kind of sunny recycled (in the best possible sense) pop is an utter betrayal of the Belle & Sebastian aesthetic. These people are immune to joy, is all I can say. The woozy wordless vocal scat, the sprightly jangle of the acoustic, the (horrors!) guitar solos! - this song wears its charms on its sleeve and dares you not to sing along. Besides, lyrically this is like the 10,000-th paean to outsiderhood that Stuart Murdoch has given us, so it's not a total reinvention. It's just now when "people turn their heads / And cross the street whenever we walk on by," he's able to see the humor in the situation and celebrate it. This song invites you to celebrate too.

7. "Bunk Trunk Skunk" / "Bicycle, Bicycle, You are My Bicycle" - Be Your Own Pet

It's a veritable Law of Rock that at any point in time there must be at least one band that plays loud, simple, fast songs and is fronted by a brash, screaming female vocalist who says things nice girls don't say. The musical talent of these bands is often rudimentary (or they quickly evolve past the niche, RIP Sleater-Kinney!), but also completely besides the point - you listen to these bands because the vocalist grabs your ears and kicks you in the throat, not because the guitar work is amazing. After the Yeah Yeah Yeahs showed us their bones and nobody really got excited, the mantle was up for grabs. And so verily, in 2006 the Laws of Rock gave us Be Your Own Pet.

There was no more visceral thrill for me last year than listening to Jemina Pearl screech "I'm an independent mother-fucker!" It's honestly that simple. A minute and a half of thrash-by-numbers and a couple more "mother-fuckers" just to make the point, and the band rushes headlong into the monolithic riff of "Bicycle, Bicycle." I have no clue what "We're on two wheels BABY!" actually means, but Pearl's delivery makes it sound incredibly hot. I want to be on two wheels! Honestly, ignore all the rest of the godawful lyrics on this one, but tune back in at the end when she declares, "Have fun, and be safe with it.... Just kidding, FUCK SHIT UP!" Which, within present context, is, y'know, totally deep.

The band's other not-so-secret weapon was drummer Jamin Orrall, and these two songs contain some of his most inventive banging. The crashing cymbals that open "Bunk Trunk Skunk" sound like an alarm, and he maintains the anxiety on the verses with rolling toms. "Bicycle" opens with a stuttering beat that wouldn't have been out of place on Drum's Not Dead. It doesn't bode well for the future of the band that he left not long after the album came out; but then, BYOP are at their most effective in small doses. The entire album was frankly a slog - you can only ignore the sameness of the guitar work and screaming for so long. But regardless of where they go from here, BYOP have given me two songs that sit fondly on my shelf next to "Speed Heart," "Handsome & Gretel," and "Bang!" as a refuge from adult restraint.

6. "Thursday" - Asobi Seksu

For about a month after first hearing it, I was obsessed with this song. I listened to it repeatedly, walked around with the gorgeous vocal melody from the chorus never far from my headspace, and at moments of true connection (or at least caffeination) shed tears of joy at the beauty of all reality.

OK, then I bought the album and saw them live and realized that this is all so much reheated Kitchens of Distinction squall and haze. This realization has in no way blunted the beauty and power of "Thursday" for me, thankfully. As it progresses, the song continues to swell with new layers of shimmer. And these folks know that the real hook is that chorus; the song peaks at the end of the second time through it, gets all hazy and muted for a bit, and then... returns to the instrumental of the chorus but replaces the vocal with some wordless sighs from Yuki and a pretty background phrase from the boys. In other words, you want to fly with the stars again? Rewind the damn song and listen to it again!

5. "A Visit from Drum" - Liars

In general, I preferred Liars when they were spitting in my face. Too much of Drum's Not Dead crossed the line from "trance-like" to, um, "boring." But at least on this song, Liars' intentions haven't changed, just their methods. The drums don't just visit on this song - they pull you out of the fucking house, roll you down the street, and carry you out to sea to meet an unknown fate. Something this simple and repetitive shouldn't be this goddamn powerful. As always, Angus's voice is another instrument in the mix. But whereas before he used it to rachet up the tension by flailing against whatever the other guys were up to, here his eerie falsetto is strangely comforting, enticing you to come along for the journey. When the guitar suddenly becomes stabbing and alarm-like at the three-minute mark, you're caught too tightly in the song's grip to escape. The vocals become wordless and breathy, and then the beat drops out and banging drumsticks wake you out of the trance you've been in for the last four minutes. Wipe that drool off your chin, feel the pain of withdrawal, hit the "Back" button. Get lost again.

4. "Careening with Conviction" - Mission of Burma

I'm as happy as anyone to have Mission of Burma back among us, but have to admit that neither OnOffOn nor The Obliterati have totally grabbed me. Much of the chaos and unpredictability of Burma v.1 is missing from their 21st Century output so far. That said, "Careening with Conviction" owns my universe as soon as it's opening bass hits my ears. This song can't possibly have been developed over time; I envision it springing to life whole like Athena from the head of Zeus. For all that it's a series of movements, it possesses a stunning coherence and internal logic: the funky rhythmic parts flow seamlessly into the quieter reflective parts flow seamlessly into the jagged guitar solo and back again. All three musicians are at their peak of their skills here both as individuals and as a unit, flipping on a dime between working together as an ass-stomping whole and pushing against each other within a limitless space. It's all about jerking your body around madly, giving you time to re-catch your breath, and then taking control of your limbs and joints again and tugging you along. God-like, truly.

3. "Tract for Valerie Solanos" - Matmos

The Theorist:

Identity politics are inherently contradictory. Like the oppressive social forces they seek to oppose, they reduce individuals to representatives of social groups, and make totalizing statements whose truth falls apart in the face of daily life. The "tract" being recited in this song is the product of a simplistic, violent and disturbed mind that nevertheless states its intentions as liberatory. The artists, recognizing this internal conflict and wishing to embody it in sound, pay homage to/mock the text in question by embedding it in a nightmarish cascade of sounds created by objects that it both literally and symbolically references. They manipulate a cow's reproductive tract in an acknowledgement of the way that a body's reproductive capabilities become codified within oppressive social structures, but also within the author's curious convictions concerning emotional states and interests. Throughout they establish a tension between tight rhythmic structures (colloquially, "beats") and humorously scatological squelches, squawks, and wheezes. The total effect of the song is to create an aural space in which the "tract" can be contextualized and deconstructed, only they accomplish this with sounds rather than words. Hence the listener is invited to appreciate the ironies of the text in a visceral rather than cerebral manner. This is a wild success both as a piece of art and as a piece of literary criticism.

Everybody Else:

Dude. This song samples the sounds made by a cow's uterus. There is an approximately thirty-second stretch comprised of nothing but burps, farts, and other uncomfortably squelchy noises. It wants to be taken seriously as a critique of identity politics; it wants to make you laugh until you cry. It manages to do both. In a word: BRILLIANCE!

2. "We Share Our Mother's Health" - The Knife

The whole of this is so much more than the sum of its parts that mathematicians (at least the hip ones) should create an entire new branch of their discipline in an attempt to figure it out. How can something so minimal, constructed of nothing inherently new, be the freshest song I heard in 2006??? It's like one of the Cylon "models" from Battlestar Galactica - organic on the outside, actually a tightly constructed machine when you cut it open. But of course, neither of them works properly if you dissect them. So I've opted to follow the lead of Gaius Baltar, and just fall madly in love with this alien thing. The chilling effect of the multi-tracked vocals and the icy faux-Asian tonality is perfectly balanced by the sheer bounciness of the bassline and the cheesy straight-outta-the-80s percussion tracks. As if the sonic palette wasn't already rich enough, The Knife's live show also gave me the gift of an indelible, unforgettable mental image to accompany it: Olof merrily swinging large glowing orange plastic sticks in nothing resembling a rhythm (let alone one of the many to choose from in the song). Hey, you know it's true love when even the warts look beautiful, and from the very first listen I knew this song would grace my playlists for ever after.

1. "Panzrama" - Giddy Motors

A great song demands your attention immediately, but fails to give up all its secrets without repeated listen. It should evoke emotions - specifics left to the taste of the individual listener, but the more the better. It should haunt you when it's not around, and even after you know it inside and out, you should continue being surprised by it. You should even have fights with it and then come back asking for its forgiveness. In short, a great song is like a lover.

Well, by all those criteria "Panzrama" is a great fucking song. I find it completely impossible to concentrate on anything else when it comes on. The opening high-pitched keening guitar lights a fire inside my heart, the menacing bassline grabs it and forces it to beat in the same rhythm, and the vocal on the chorus makes it stop dead. Make no mistake - this is some ugly shit. Forget about calling an exterminator - when Gaverick de Vis (easily the coolest name in rock and roll) shrieks "DISEASE!", all small organisms within earshot flee. (That isn't really your skin crawling; it's all your associated microfauna). "INSIDE YOU!" he accuses, and yep - you feel dirty alright. "RECOIL!" he demands, and really you want to, but listening to this song is like rubbernecking - you can't help but stare, no matter how disturbing the view.

The beauty of "Panzrama" is that it's ugly shit played by three incredibly talented musicians. After dozens of listens I still have difficulty getting my head around the abrupt time signature changes that lead into and propel the parts of the chorus. The first time this came on at the gym, I almost injured myself on the StairMaster. I still find it impossible to bang my head to it. The long instrumental interlude that makes up the final third of the song is an exercise in form giving way to chaos, structure crumbling around (and inside of) your ears. The guitar spirals into ever-higher registers, the drummer kicks up the pace, the whole thing becomes frenzied before locking into a groove, it grinds to a halt....

"RECOIL!"

But I can't. And the bastards know it.

My Favorite 10 Live Shows in 2006

This will be the first of three posts wrapping up 2006. Yes, I know I'm a couple weeks late, but there are a few albums I want to buy and listen to before compiling my lists of favorite albums and favorite songs. In the meantime, my list of shows was actually pretty easy to throw together. I was particularly pleased to discover that these shows are spread throughout the year and across the several venues that I frequent.

Quick note: I went to the first day of Coachella this year, and although I saw a couple good shows (My Morning Jacket, Franz Ferdinand, and the always-sublime Sigur Ros), the overall experience of Coachella wasn't pleasant. Too many damn people, bands too rushed in their set up, awful acoustics in the smaller tents. So no Coachella performances make it into this list (worth noting that both MMJ and Sigur Ros' 2005 shows would have made it onto this list, though!)

10. Califone - Bottom of the Hill, 10 October

I went into this not quite knowing what to expect, but hoped that the chaotic and layered nature of Califone-on-album would translate in the live setting. I was also at a disadvantage in knowing only one of their albums, Heron King Blues. It took the guys a couple songs to "warm up," but what unfolded was exactly: chaotic and layered and head-noddingly good. I'm always impressed when a band can sell me on songs I don't even know, which Califone did masterfully. Tim Rutili is an extremely talented guitarist, able to switch effortlessly between delicate finger plucking and blasts of feedback noise. The drummer was a force of nature. On many of the songs he provided the rhythmic base on which the other two musicians were free to wander, but these songs never locked into a groove - he was always changing the beat, adding in or subtracting new percussion instruments, etc. Yes, there was a laptop or two on stage, but the "organic" sounds always took front and center. I remember thinking repeatedly, "How can only three guys make this much NOISE?" It really was a beautiful show and I'd happily go see these guys again. Hell, I might even get around to buying the new album...

9. Saint Etienne - The Fillmore, 17 February

Probably the most pleasant live surprise of the year. This was all about an excuse to take my boyfriend to a show I thought he might actually enjoy (having subjected him to Deerhoof, Xiu Xiu, and Kristin Hersh - see #4 below - in recent months). I expected it to be the two guys twiddling knobs and playing keyboards while Sarah Cracknell breezed her way through the vocals. I certainly did NOT expect three or four "real" instrumentalists, or a reconfiguring of the songs so that very little of the music was actually played on keyboards, nor an overall truly "live" sound. Sure, they focused a lot on the new material, which sounds pretty much like all the old material. But they also more than did justice to the back catalog; "Spring" was an unexpected and lovely treat, and of course we got all the classic old singles. Cracknell seems most comfortable when singing; her between-song banter was repeitious and mostly consisted of asking us a question ("Do you like the new songs?") and then replying "We're so glad." Still, nothing really could stop them (har har) from delivering a buoyant and surprisingly muscular show that had me grinning ear to ear as we walked out. I will go see them again (as I think my now-ex boyfriend Brian would) every chance I get.

8. The Clientele - Cafe du Nord, 22 August

Brian and I had broken off our one-year relationship a couple weeks earlier. But we already had tickets to this, and he still wanted to go... and really, with who better to go see the Clientele but a recent ex-? On top of the nervousness I felt about this being the first time I'd seen him since the breakup, I also feared the worst as far as the show itself went. The sonics in Cafe du Nord are notoriously echo-ey. Great place to see a loud band like Pretty Girls Make Graves (but that was in 2005); potentially not so great to see a band whose music consists of a lot of detailed, finger-picked guitar lines. Sound quality is probably my most common complaint at shows - the drums are too loud, I can't hear the guitar lines, etc. The Clientele's music seemed particularly prone to falling into this trap. And, acoustics aside, I really wondered if Alisdair Maclean could pull off all those details - the singing AND the finger-picking.

Well, I almost feel bad that the "my fears" part of the review will probably be longer than the "they were pretty AMAZING" part of my review. But they were. Amazing. The solution to the dilemma of course is to not amp the shit out of all the instruments. In fact, there were often times when I could barely hear the DRUMS (how often have you had that experience?) And yes, Alisdair can pull those songs off and - more importantly - deliver them in a way that doesn't feel canned. Sure, he hits all the notes, but the tonality is different than the albums. I never thought I'd describe the Clientele as a muscular band, but damned if these songs didn't fall with power and grace - and at half the volume you'd experience at a typical rock show. Brian and I agreed it was a beautiful performance.

7. Mission of Burma - Great American Music Hall, 20 Sep

OK, before I tell you about how fucking LOUD and POWERFUL Mission of Burma were live, I have to make an embarrasing admission. You might have noticed that I haven't mentioned any opening acts as yet. The sad truth is, I'm a 9-to-5 schlep during the day. I can afford myself the luxury of staying out late on a work night to catch a show, but only if I take a nap before hand. So unless I know the openers, or have read good things about them at the least, I don't see them. Yes, I realize I lose hipster points for this - all my chances to hear/see the next "new best thing" being squandered in the name of sleep. I'm in my mid-30s, cut me some slack.

This all comes up with reference to THIS show, because the openers were 50 Foot Wave, and you might have noticed I'm a bit.... um, obsessed with Kristin Hersh. So of course I was there for the opening act, and frankly of the three times I saw 50FW this year, this show was the best. Raw power is never going to be lacking at their performances; what tips a 50FW show from "good" to "great" is how tight they are. It's easy to get caught up in the loudness of their songs and forget that there are a lot of "on a penny" shifts both rhythmically and vocally. Tonight, the band were like a well-oiled machine. I think it was the scariest performance I saw Kristin give this year, the vocals tending toward the huskier end of her spectrum. My ears were already ringing before MoB even took the stage.

And then... y'know, frankly the MoB show is a bit of a blur. These guys are tight, they're loud, they strike the perfect balance between recognizability and not sounding canned, and they pretty much tore the roof off. I really like both The Obliterati and OffONOff without feeling blown away by either of them, but live these songs are consistently great. Oh well, I didn't get to hear "Mica"... and my ears were still ringing two days later...

6. The Knife - Mezzanine, 3 Nov

I've already written about this show in detail in an earlier post. Huge points for being entertaining and not even pretending that they were "performing" the music. I am still haunted by those creepy glowing-orange ski masks. And "We Share Our Mother's Health" will forever be accompanied in my head by the image of Olaf merrily banging away with enormous glowing-orange plastic sticks, completely not in rhythm with the music.

5. Liars - Bottom of the Hill, 5 Jun

I'm about to admit something slightly heretical... I was pretty underwhelmed by Drum's Not Dead. Honestly, I found They Were Wrong So We Drowned a more engaging listen - and of course that's the album where nearly everyone ran screaming in the other direction about how "unlistenable" it is. Harumph. And I already knew better than to hope they'd play anything off the debut, which will forever be one of my all-time favorite albums. So... I mostly went out of curiosity. I'd read the live shows were intensely good, and I was willing to be "sold" on the new stuff.

Liars didn't quite pull that last feat off, but the slower moving stuff from Drum's Not Dead definitely had an intensity and energy lacking on the album. The dual drumming attack of Julian and Aaron put me in a trance, and then like a great DJ can do with a mind on Ecstasy, they took me places. Some of the places were tranquil, but of course this was Liars and those places never lasted. Angus is completely inscrutable as a vocalist - whether he was hanging back or in our faces at the front of the stage usually had little to do with what was coming out of his mouth. And you haven't felt fear until you get the full sonic assault of Liars banging the hell out of "Broken Witch" and Angus looming over the entire venue chanting "Blood.... Blood..... Blood....." In a word, WOW.

4. Kristin Hersh - Swedish American Hall, 14 Jan

OK yes, Kristin appears at three of the ten shows on this list. Clearly I'm the "fan" in "fanatic," right? Well, you go see her live in any of her incarnations, and walk out and tell me you weren't completely fucking moved. Even Brian (bless his soul), told me afterward he'd been kind of dreading it, but ended up thoroughly enjoying the performance.

This was Kristin solo acoustic, and yet it had been billed as "Plays the songs of Throwing Muses." And did she ever! Songs that I had no clue could even be played solo acoustic, like "Hook in Her Head" or "Hate My Way." Her voice was a bit on the gravelly end tonight, but that didn't stop her from performing a mind-blowing 26 songs. It was an amazing way to begin my year of live music, and then of course she went and closed my year on an even higher point. I'm in perpetual awe.

3. Sleater-Kinney - Great American Music Hall, 2 & 3 May

Yes, I went to both shows. Yes, I was butt-ass tired from having just gotten home from a long weekend at Coachella and then some overnight camping/hiking in Joshua Tree. Yes, I'd seen them last year for the first time ever after being such a huge fan for years, and although I enjoyed that show I felt vaguely disturbed by the way it seemed to be all about Carrie. Nope, I'm still not going to say that The Woods ranks in the upper half of my favorite albums by them. And y'know, for all that these shows weren't all about Carrie, and Corin seemed much more into it than she had last year... still, I wasn't surprised when they announced an "indefinite hiatus" not long after this tour.

All that said: Yes, I am very happy to remember them from these two shows. Don't get me wrong - I think Carrie is amazing. No fears of S-K music sounding canned; her guitar work is beautifully chaotic and sloppy yet never a mess. I could watch goddess Janet bang away on the skins all night long. And Corin seemed intensely present, she never checked out. Her vocals were soaring and beautiful; I'm always puzzled by people who say it's the voices that keep them from getting into Sleater-Kinney. Regardless of how I might feel about the album they chose to leave us with, the fact is these three were at the top of their live game this year. R.I.P, S-K... you've left behind a lot of happy/sad fans.

2. Radiohead - The Greek Theatre, 24 June

Dude, it was fucking Radiohead. Of course it's near the top of my list! The less said about Deerhoof's opening set the better... after watching them absolutely slay twice last year, both of their post-Chris Cohen performances I caught this year were frankly heartbreaking. Radiohead, on the other hand, were near-perfect. The Greek is a pretty amazing place to see a show, all the more so when the lighting is creative and interesting, and even more so when the fog starts blowing down over the top of the hill and blanketing everything with an eerieness wholly suited to the paranoia and dread at the core of so much of Radiohead's music. Honestly, I don't even remember the details. For nearly two hours, Brian and I were caught in the grip. I recall being bummed that I didn't hear a couple of the songs I most wanted to ("The National Anthem", for one), but really that's a small complaint to lodge about a show this good. Thom Yorke was amazingly interactive, and even cracked a couple jokes. The visuals were compelling without being distracting. I walked out feeling deeply satisfied. Granted these were the most expensive tickets I bought this year (on a per-band basis; Coachella hardly counts), but it was money well spent.

1. Throwing Muses - Great American Music Hall, 16 Dec

Discussed at length in an earlier post, and I won't bore anyone with it a second time.

Next up - my favorite 20 songs of 2006!