The wait is over. Time to exhale.
Capitulating, finally, to untold pressure, Warren has cobbled together
his Top Ten Albums of 2002. In many other respects, its been
a crappy year with the passing of Joe Strummer ranking high
on the Crappy Events List. But be strong, rocknrollers.
After all, as Joe would say on Complete Control: "Youre
my guitar hero!" Rock is back, and we mean it, maaaaan.
1. The Vines 'Highly Evolved' - They should probably be
rechristened Craig Nicholls and his Somewhat Anonymous Backing
Band, so completely does the mad little Aussie dominate the proceedings.
But this isn't a list about Top Ten Bands That Really Aren't.
It's about my top ten albums, and this one truly is. There are
certainly echoes of Nirvana, here - and Beatles, and Badfinger,
and even Abba (one of Nicholls' favourites). As influences, those
are good ones to have. Young Craig hasn't yet achieved the lyrical
relevance of Cobain - but the music is just so damn good that
I didn't care. If he's alive in two years, Nicholls and his Vines
will be the biggest band in the world. You read it here first,
etc.
2. White Stripes 'White Blood Cells' - When my brother
and I saw Jack and Meg White with some other folks in Toronto
this Summer, someone nearby remarked - uncharitably but not erroneously
- that Meg is "basically a metronome with mammaries."
And it is true: her drumming is steady, but pretty darn unimaginative.
Given that the Stripes are a two-member band, said lack of imagination
should have been fatal. But Jack more than makes up for her deficiencies,
and particularly so on this album. He is (like Craig Nicholls)
a spectacular talent, one who makes everyone in the vicinity look
good, whether they deserve it or not. Capable of flat-out blues-based
rockers (and what rocker isn't) and even tunes that appeal to
the kids (Were Going to be Friends), Jack is
a flippin genius. Cool clothes. He and Meg should make a
resolution to lose the Sisters/Husband-Wife routine in 2003, because
its getting very tired. Otherwise, they should also keep
doing what theyre doing. It works.
3. The Hives Veni Vidi Vicious The
pride of Fagersta, Sweden, are apparently bent on world domination
and, on the strength of this album and their live show,
they just might achieve it. A twisted Nordic hybrid of the Stooges,
Radio Birdman, the Seeds, Gary Glitter, AC/DC and Devo (for the
uniforms, not the music), this album is wall-to-wall kick ass.
Howlin'Pelle Almqvist (were not making this up, Mom and
Dad) is the most charismatic front man since, well, the last really
cool charismatic front man from Sweden. The fact that he dates
one of the gals in Sahara Hot Nights simply makes him cooler.
There is only one bad tune on this album, but Hate To Say
I Told You So more than makes up for many sins. Listen to
it loud with the windows rolled down, even if you live in Whitehorse.
4. Division of Laura Lee Black City
What is it with Sweden, anyway? Leave it all alone for a few years,
post-ABBA, and it starts exporting some of the best rock bands
on the planet. Need To Get Some has a riff so catchy,
itll lodge in your brain like a fish hook. Ouch.
5. Paul Westerberg 'Stereo' We saw him in Toronto
this Summer, and it occurred to me, mid-way through, that it was
possibly the first time Ive ever seen him perform sober.
But fret not, Mats fans: he still went and smashed a perfectly
good guitar to pieces for no apparent reason, forgot half the
lyrics, and swore a lot. A double-disk, with one of em (Stereo)
featuring a smoother, quieter sound (fatherhood agrees with him,
methinks) and the other (Mono) done by his
Grandpaboy alter ego, and features him ripping out
a few of the chairs in the front row, just like in the good old
days. Somewhere on the CD, he writes: "This is rock'n'roll
recorded poorly, played in a hurry, with sweaty hands and unsure
reason...It feels right. This is in my blood." True enough.
If you want sterling production values, Paul isnt for you.
If you want unheralded genius, he is.
7. Wire Read and Burn There have actually
been two installments in the Read and Burn series
this year, and both see Wire return to what made them great about
25 years ago fast, melodic, wordy punk rock. (Albeit with
an industrial edge, their concession to the times, I suppose.)
One is available in the stores, the other on Wires web site
(which can be found at the aptly-named www.pinkflag.com); I bought
mine when I finally saw them perform this Fall. When they sauntered
out on stage, I was uneasy: the passage of time had not been kind,
and was there for all to see (Old geezer rock, as
I yelled into my cell phone to my brother in Calgary, before their
show got underway). But once it did, the new songs stood up as
well as the old, old ones. In the Art of Stopping
is a raver, like most of the tunes on these two mini-albums.
8. The Datsuns The Datsuns Its
too easy to simply dismiss these guys as Seventies throwbacks.
If the Seventies any of us endured had sounded remotely like this,
God would have had no need to invent Iggy and punk rock. The New
Zealander progeny of the Hellacopters, but with a better pop sensibility,
these guys are destined for hugeness if, for nothing else,
the fact that Dolf de Datsun will soon be rocknrolls
Number One Chick Magnet. Stand out track: Motherfucker From
Hell. Hard to live up to a title like that, but the Datsuns
do.
9. The Liars They Threw Us All In A Trench And Stuck
A Monument On Top The first time I heard these maniacs,
I was unfair: Pavement was good enough to deserve a tribute
band, and the Liars are it. Like all the really good stuff,
subsequent listenings made clear how wrong I was. Theres
Fall in here, Public Image Limited, early Mekons - and Pavement,
natch but thats only the beginning. Mr. Your
On Fire Mr. has got the funkiest groove this side of George
Clinton; on that one and throughout, front man Angus Andrew, a
giant from Down Under, howls like he wants to nail you (a la Henry
Rollins) to you front door, beside your well-stocked garage. Not
for the faint of heart. Or even those with hearts.
10. Yeah Yeah Yeahs Master From Brooklyn,
like their buddies the Liars, YYY really didnt release an
album in 2002: its more like an EP, but who cares. On Bang,
Karen O delivers the best rock line of the year, in a tone that
is snotty and sexy all at once: The bigger, the better.
And you know she aint talkin about cars, boys and
girls. Just a three piece, with (like the White Stripes) no bass
player, YYY are a bit like Le Tigre, but without the wymyn catechism.
And a bit like Veruca Salt, but without the melodic structure.
And a bit like the Breeders, without the heroin.
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