Keeping on the Beat

Fare thee well, 2009

Alright, so I’m a few days late on this one. And I’ve not updated in a while, I know. I said I’m sorry, though, ‘kay mum?

Anyway, aware as I am that this is a trite and overdone send-off to the music of the past year, I couldn’t quite let 2009 slide into oblivion without so much as a kiss goodbye. I’ve already posted about my album of the decade, and I’m not going to bother putting them into any particular order of merit. Instead, I’ll just keep it chronological.

My somewhat-reluctant mentor, Huw, termed his list of albums of the decade ‘Well, *I* Like It’. I plan on using the Huw Davies defence here to shield myself against any criticisms that these are not the best albums of the year. They’re my favourites and this is my blog, so shut up.

Emmy the Great – First Love

I’ve got a confession to make: it may not be in vogue to say it, but I’m not that keen on the current crop of new female singers, as a rule. The appeal of La Roux, Florence, Paloma Faith et al just sort of passes me by. But obviously there are some exceptions – after all, what is quite possibly my favourite album of last year was made by a female singer. First Love certainly features my favourite track of the year, in the glorious title track:

It’s gorgeous, from the near-a cappella start to the build-up of the military band-esque drumming. Hell, I don’t even mind that it borrows from Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’. Part of what makes this album so stunning is its honesty; it feels almost like an open letter to an ex. Yet, weirdly, this intimacy doesn’t render it impenetrable: if anything, there’s something in the lyrics that everyone can relate to. I can practically guarantee that much of this album will send your thoughts back to that one person – and pretty much everyone has one tucked away among the pages of their past – that was that bit harder to let go of than anyone else.

Fragile and delicate, yet packing an unexpected bite in Emmy’s crystal-clear vocals (sample: “And I would suck the life from you if there was any left to suck/And I would love you if you told me there was something there to love…I would marry you for money but I don’t suppose you’ll ever have enough”), this is packed with simple yet affecting songs. I’m not sure I could love this album much more if I tried. If only all break-ups could sound this good.

Regina Spektor – Far

Is it just me, or has Regina Spektor crept into common consciousness almost by stealth? I know tons of people who adore her, yet I never seem to hear her getting much airplay. No matter. Her fifth album still features her familiar kookiness, but is also slightly more refined. That said, she does impersonate a dolphin on ‘Folding Chair’. It’s actually quite sweet.

‘Dance Album of the ’80s’ is an obvious highlight – taking its time to unfurl an almost unbearable lovely climax:

The tracks are still largely character-led, but the piano accompaniments are rippling, rather than raging, and grant the vocals and strings precious room to breathe. Growing up without growing boring? I like it, rather a lot.

Slow Club – Yeah So

Criminally, I didn’t get into Slow Club until September, when I was sent to review them for Big Issue Cymru - but I was an instant convert. The idea of The White Stripes (standard musical comparison for a two-piece act), Bright Eyes and Belle & Sebastian having a cosy chat over a cup of tea with three sugars probably doesn’t sound too great, because it sounds rather twee. And twee’s not cool these days, yeah?

Twee may have a bad name, but this duo show that this isn’t really justified; they’re two impossibly cute people making impossibly cute songs. There’s also quite an impressive variety, given that the main tools here are acoustic guitars, pared-down drums and boy-girl harmonies, but the quiet regret of ‘There’s No Good Way to Say I’m Leaving You’ sits pretty alongside the carnival-esque romp of ‘It Doesn’t Have to Be Beautiful’:

Possibly not everyone’s cup of sugary tea, but most certainly mine.

Monsters of Folk – Monsters of Folk

Yes, I know I’ve blogged about the brilliance of this motley crew before, but I probably won’t stop until I’ve got the majority of the world (or at least of my friends) convinced. Yet another Conor Oberst-related project – who’d've thunk the kid had it in him? (Okay, quite a lot of people.)

I’m not normally a fan of an Oberst project in which he partially relinquishes control of the microphone, but when the other artists involved are of such a high calibre as Jim James/Yim Yames and M. Ward, who can complain? Style-wise, this is – as the title may suggest – pretty much a straight-up collection of folksy tracks; there aren’t really any curveballs on this record. The quality, though, is what makes MoF stand out. Plus, it features ‘Ahead of the Curve’, which is an incredible three-and-a-half minutes of sheer, gleeful optimism:

Despite having multiple vocalists, this feels like a brilliantly coherent album, perhaps because it’s grown organically, having been pipeline since 2004. Big-hearted and born of four prodigious talents, I’m just hoping it’s not another five years before more MoF material surfaces.