« What's the new year without a glitch? | Main | Texas: January Concert Listings »

December 31, 2008

Our Favorite Songs of 2008: #10-1

Deerhunter - "Saved By Old Times"

Mysterious acronyms (OAO), vampires of the Victorian variety, demonic outbursts sounding like an overdubbed Sméagol, and simply delightful, bouncy, pop. Deerhunter's mythology has steadily increased through the haunting beauty of Bradford Cox's passion towards human suffering, the multimedia manner the band presents itself, and the damn compelling real life story of a talented misfit working his way through the world. It can add up to a barrier of complexity for some, as elaborate as the human design itself. Here though, I believe Cox is just rephrasing the old standby of teenage rock and roll salvation. M. Swankster

MGMT - "Time to Pretend"

To borrow a word that figures prominently in "Time to Pretend," this is a track that seems fated, like "Born in the USA" or "Better Man," to be mistaken for an anthem. Like those songs, its sheer ebullience makes it seem to be celebrating the very thing it isn't, its lyrical contradictions buried under a rousing arrangement and undeniable hooks. The myth of the model-banging, richer than rich, heroin-doing rock star may be as out of date as the record industry that made platinum artists out of Springsteen and Pearl Jam, but it's a myth that persists. Even if the skewed organ figure that glues this whole messy swirl together was made to launch a thousand ring-tones, MGMT swung for the fences and drove this one out of the park. Ignore at your peril. D. Klein

Lykke Li - "I'm Good, I'm Gone"

Breathy, rootless indie pop from the latest Swedish discovery. Lykke Li's singing style is like impulsive, modern soul after indulging in a luxurious hotel spa treatment of pricey bath salts, the type of thing that tabloids relish reporting on during corporate money scandals involving greedy, rich bastards caught scamming others. That kind of lavishness. Strong willed, yet coyly playful, she dictates that things will be played under her rules. That means never telling her she can't do something. I can't say I've ever heard someone say they're "working to make butter for my piece of bun" when relaying hopes for the fruits of her labor, but it's sure something I can get behind. MS

Atlas Sound - "Activation"

Microcastle, as well as the solo record Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel seemed to shrink the legions of the irrational Bradford Cox haters this year, but I still cannot for the life of me understand those last few dead-enders. "Activation" was quietly offered for free with exactly zero fanfare from the supposed attention whore, and its breezy, one-take sweetness topped the toppling pile of material he wrote and released this year. How can you hate on an internal desire to produce as much high-quality material as possible? In a lot of ways, until this year, Cox was a perfect blog era savant, keeping up with an unending desire for more, more, more, tossing personal tidbits to the lions, and coming back missing pieces, but not a smile. It finally devoured him in the end, closing off a fascinatingly sincere openness that might never return. This track should stand as the "Deerhunter blog period" 's finest four minutes. J. Klingman

Gang Gang Dance - "House Jam"

The year's most pleasant surprise, as another band of experimentalists from the Brooklyn wilderness finally saw fit to make a bid for pop immortality. It's only straightforward in relation to their back catalog of spasmodic flailing, but their inch given is quite roomy, it turns out. The song's pleasure point details are as specific as its title is bafflingly generic. Dig the humming synths, the seagull feedback squawks, and the layered oohing of the first 30 seconds alone. Lizzie Bougatsos slips on a Kate Bush jumpsuit, as disco divas are wont to do these days, ending up at an oddly sensuous destination. But for me, the coup de grace is those breezy, gorgeously echoed, guitar strums. It's the sound of talent, relaxing, trusting itself. JK

Times New Viking - "Drop-Out"

This isn't a love song, but that's not how my ear embraces it. I'm lucky, some ears reject its supremely smeared melody as if it were a baboon liver. I can see how the tape hiss and the treble OD might seem like petulant, willful distancing devices. I really can. But, I suspect for the band (whose intentions I still have to guess at, even following a short "interview" earlier this year), that their sound is really a way of drawing the likeminded closer, of connecting deeper with those who haven't gone running, with blood trickling from a burst drum. And for slightly over a minute, I've felt smothered in swooning affection, every single time. JK

Vampire Weekend - "Walcott"

The real challenge of humanistic songwriting is making the personal seem universal. And while Vampire Weekend's superfluously documented pedigree suggests elitism, affluently-specific lyrics convey pretension and Africa-copping rhythms imply entitlement, the product of the equation is something far more ecumenical than a description of the factors could ever predict. The hook has no words; it's just an amping-up of the driving piano, hyperactive guitar and steady rhythm that already infects the entire track – and if you can't get down to that, it ain't VW's fault. The fact that the most prominent lyric hits me right in the soft spot is just icing on the cake. But if that's not enough of a sell, then replace Cape Cod with Salem, or New Providence, or Cherry Hill, or Denver, or Philadelphia, or Durham, or (be honest) Brooklyn, or wherveryourefromorare, and the specificity dissipates and a perfect song is revealed, a "Born to Run" for the hipster crowd. R. Monty

TV on the Radio - "DLZ"

Congratulations on the mess you made of things...
You force your fire then you falsify your deeds...
This is beginning to feel like the long winded blues of the never

In a year defined by a long, drawn out political season; one that exhausted the media's ability to capture its momentousness with superlatives, like landmark, groundbreaking, once in a generation, once in a lifetime, etc., a media that rarely held back from reminding us of how historic "it" was, so much that merely mentioning a true fact of "it" being historic became cliched. In the dim of retrospection, with the luxury of skipping over the many (many, many, many) low points of the presidential election, some of us have already romantisized, and framed the election season with the misstep erasing, gauzy haze granted to the winners. After all, they are the ones who write history. But what if things turned out differently? As strong as "Golden Age" is in terms of being a terrific, hopeful dance song, not to mention prescient marker for what was to come, "DLZ" is equally dark and inversely strong in its indictment of the outgoing "leadership". With an opening line that sardonically drips with the same flippant attitude shared by a solid 75% of the U.S. electorate, it sets the tone for one of the most concise, poetic ventings of frustration I've ever heard. By far. Without a doubt, my choice for music to fuel my rage had I found out on November 5th that Bush somehow hijacked the constitution once more, and declared himself president for another four years. MS

Santogold - "L.E.S. Artistes"

Guess who eats together at Katz's deli? Turns out everyone does, except for Santogold who threw the one of the greatest attacks on Lower East Side Artistry since that Cloverfield monster stomped all over Lower Manhattan. With baiting hooks and an infectious melody, Philly born Santi White has become synonymous with 2008 breakthrough. As for her standoffish stardom and jabs at the blogging-heads or anyone else with an alphabetized record collection, it is either a Philly vs. New York thing or she is talented enough to know that she is enough of a forceful commodity to stand alone. This track makes a very strong argument for the latter. A song like "L.E.S. Artistes" could only have come from someone who has seen every aspect of the business from signing artists to writing their hits. Under the harmonious springs of former bandmate John Hill's production prowess, Santogold has become a bit like Shatner at a Star Trek convention, he calls you a geek and tells you to leave him alone, but somehow it all seems charming and you're way too hooked to oblige. Y. Korngold

Hercules & Love Affair - "Blind"

Recently, this was certified as track of the year by, like, God or somebody, but it was easy enough to hear that on spin one. Disco's subtle creep into artistic dominance this decade has come in steps. First, it was "Hey, let's mix disco with something unimpeachably acceptable, like spiky post-punk guitar lines, say." Then it was, "Hey, you know, that stuff was sort of cool, let's just see if we can hit those same erogenous zones." Now, with the work of DJ Andy Butler, we get disco's belated apex, a track that fully digests the 70s, as well as the 00s, and betters the influences that spawned it. Remember that all-time great track with the transgendered diva, and the unstoppable chug, and those scrumptious horn blasts? No? Well, its willed into existence now, isn't it? Thanks Andy. JK

#52 - 41
#40 - 31
#30 - 21
#20 - 11