EASE DOWN THE ROAD

PRETTY IN PINK was one of my favorite films when I was young and watching whatever late night movies TBS and USA played on Friday and Saturday nights*. Never one to mature, PRETTY is still one of my favorite things to watch on the rare wasted day. The scene above is easily one of my all-time favorite guilty pleasure scenes.

This being a website about music, I feel it necessary to mention that the song actor John Cryer performs is called “Try a Little Tenderness,” sung and recorded by late, great soul singer Otis Redding. On a related note, one of Redding’s all-time classic albums, OTIS BLUE: OTIS REDDING SINGS SOUL, was recently given the mondo DELUXE EDITION treatment. I know I just called the ”Duckie Dance” one of my all-time favorite scenes, but believe me when I tell you that OTIS BLUE is one of the very best soul albums ever recorded.

 *But only during the NBA’s off season.

Currently on tour with his band, the Drive-By Truckers, singer/songwriter Patterson Hood was able to briefly chat with Whatzup Managing Editor Greg Locke about his band’s new album, BRIGHTER THAN CREATION’S DARK, touring, his much-delayed second solo album and whether or not his band is 100 percent serious about their Southern Boy shtick.

Greg Locke: I love the new album, but feel it necessary to note that it is very long - but in a good way. Were there songs left on the shelf or did you guys run with everything you recorded? Can you tell me about the album-making process for a band with so many writers?

Patterson Hood: It’s all there. We cut 19 songs and that’s it. I wrote about 50 and Cooley had a few extras. We would work on a song and if it wasn’t going magical we’d drop it and erase the take and move on to next song. There was one we really liked but we weren’t getting the magic take so we left it alone; we might record it in some future time. This album worked as one big piece, really. I really like how one song sets up and flows into the next, especially with three writers and singers. That’s my favorite thing about this band.

GL: Yeah, I agree, the multi-singer dynamic works very well for you guys. Maybe only you guys. [For those not in the know, Trucker co-founder Mike Cooley and somewhat newcomer Shonna Tucker share writing and singing duties with Patterson.] How have these songs - all of which have a very organic vibe to begin with - been treating you guys on the road? Are they changing? Growing? Busting at the seams?

PH: It’s just getting meaner and meaner as it goes on. It’s become a really intense but fun Rock show. So far it’s my favorite tour ever.

GL: Killer. Again, these new songs just sound like they were made to be played live. Where does this album fit in your catalog? It sounds to me like A BLESSING AND A CURSE never happened; BRIGHTER sounds like a sequel to DIRTY SOUTH to me, which was my favorite Trucker album until the new one came out …

PH: BLESSING is a bit of an anomaly for us. I know a lot of our fans weren’t too fond of it, but I think it holds up for what it is. But at the same time I think of records as a snapshot in time - and that wasn’t too good a time for us on a personal level. We were experimenting and trying to find a common ground at a time when there wasn’t a lot to find. This album is very much us in our element doing what we do best. We didn’t have an agenda or anything, we just had a bunch of songs and decided to just record and let the album dictate where it wanted to go. If it’s ever not fun move on. That makes a good motto for about everything in my life right now.

GL: Speaking of hard times for the Truckers [current Trucker Shonna Tucker married and divorced one-time Trucker Jason Isbell around this time], I got the feeling that BLESSING was meant to be a more widely accessible album - I have to think that was due to Isbell’s approach, which is clearly more Petty than Skynyrd. Not that there is anything wrong with that - he does have some great song. Speaking of, what’s become of Jason’s songs in the context of your live shows?

PH: He plays them in his show I guess. We have plenty of songs so there’s no need to cover anyone else’s.

GL: When is your next solo album, MURDERING OSCAR, coming out? I’ve been hearing about it for a very long time now, probably even a couple of years now …

PH: That’s all music biz bullshit. I wanted to put it out in 2005 when it was recorded. I tried again last year. Hopefully 2009 will be the magic year and it will finally come out. It holds up, I guess. It’s not like it was ever “in style,” so it won’t be going out of style any time soon.

GL: I hear that it’s amazing, you know, my spies told me. Really, though, I have heard that - I just can’t remember who from. Do you guys have any plans for when this tour is over?

PH: Over? What does that mean? We’ll be touring all year, then I guess we’ll sleep for a while. That might be the time to release MURDERING OSCAR. I’m sure we’ll make another album too. We may record some singles later this year.

GL: I’ve gone back and forth internally with this last question, trying to decide if it’s proper to ask or not. I apologize in advance if this is rude, but I know some people who just want the record set straight. Okay, once and for all, how much of the the Truckers’ writing and persona is meant to be ironic or exaggerated?

PH: What the fuck ever. I’d rather be moronic than ironic. I do love some dark comedy. Sometimes the best way to approach a darker subject is to inject a little humor. It’s never a joke at anyone’s expense, it’s just stories and songs. I don’t have a persona that I know of. Maybe I should change my name to Cletus or Jethro.

GL: Maybe. Everyone be sure to check out Cletus and the Boys’ new album, BRIGHTER THAN CREATION’S DARK, if you haven’t yet. It’s long, loud and full of memorable tunes, throwback guitars and rot-gut whiskey-fueled vocals. Five or six of the songs easily register as some of the best tunes of the year.

Mike Cooley, Ease’s other favorite Trucker, was also asked for an interview. His PR rep replied quickly, informing me that he wasn’t available for phoners right now; I, naturally, asked if he could at least answer a few questions via e-mail. “No,” she said, “Cooley doesn’t go near the Internet.” Good enough for me.

Miles Down the Road: The Growth, Ethos and Art of Lee Miles 

By Greg Locke (Published March 22, 2007)

Before breaking into places-you-been questions with lo.automatic’s chief singer/songwriter there was a purely superficial issue to address. Was his simple, poetic name – Lee Allen Miles – a gift his parents gave him at birth, or was it a stage name? Miles’ response was stripped-bare-honest: “Stage names, like beards and expensive cars, are for people with something to hide.” Miles’ uncommon guts-without-glory stance seems to reign over every aspect of his life, most notably his music. Onward with the places.

After graduating from Fort Wayne’s Wayne High School, Miles headed to Bethel College in South Bend, where he studied music, philosophy and literature. Aside from the humdrum task of graduating with a liberal arts degree, Miles kept busy. “I spent my time working random jobs for the school, landscaping and playing music,” he said. 

His band at the time, Dark Blonde Water (originally named “Hagas”), saw success in South Bend, a town known for its competitive original music scene. While there, Miles learned the importance of playing original material. “If you weren’t doing something you truly created there, then no one gave you the time of day. [Fort Wayne] isn’t like that, but I think the tide is changing as more folks forsake the bar scene for house shows,” he said.

Dark Blonde Water played shows, recorded songs and, unfortunately, ended with a fall as the young band ran into major problems with their management. 

“It was all a learning experience, and the issues with our management eventually proved to be the undoing of the band,” he said. “We were a moderate success, sold a decent number of albums and played a ton of shows. We had one song, ‘Cadillac Dawn,’ that was a No. 1 single on South Bend radio for two weeks,” explained Miles, adding “It was a horrible song, but I wrote it when I was 19 years old.”

One of the first things anyone will mention when discussing Miles’ music is his distinct voice. “I can’t stand my voice, but some folks seem to love it. Love it. They’ll come up to me and say this or that about it, but I usually think they’re lying. When I first started playing music, I couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket. I would write the songs and let the other guys in the group sing,” Miles said.

Miles ultimately found a new, “booming” slant to singing while taking a sight-singing/ear-training course at Bethel. “I learned to sing from my diaphragm, which gives singers a powerful, robust voice,” said Miles. “It can also be overbearing and obnoxious, which is how I sang up until recently.” Miles’ “robust” approach to singing – which can be most defining heard on the booming “Mrs. James” – helped him find comfort as a lead singer.

After the dissolution of Dark Blonde Water, Miles found himself back in his hometown of Fort Wayne, in time recording his debut solo album, So Much Pain, So Much Sorrow. Somewhere along the way Miles began having brutal problems with his digestive system due to over four years of antibiotic use, leaving him bed-ridden for two years. Remembers Miles, “I slept 12 hours each night and at least six hours through the day. I lost most of my friends because I could no longer spend quality time with them.”

Miles’ health problems led to anxiety and food allergy problems, ultimately resulting in the need for a lifestyle overhaul. “My family saw me through [the problems] when it became clear that if something didn’t change I might not last much longer. I still wrestle with the food allergy and anxiety problems to this day. However, they are much less pronounced.”

During this time Miles made his first striking mark on the Fort Wayne music scene with the release of his second solo album, Bear, in 2005. Despite looming health issues he started playing out frequently, eventually meeting like-minded songwriter Kyle Morris. The two solo artists soon began playing shows around town as a duo. Said Morris about first meeting Miles, “When I met Lee at an open mic some two years ago, I had just been fired from my job and he was sick. Even though we were both pathetic, we saw promise in ourselves.”

The rare circumstances of their meeting led to a musical kinship that hit its stride as the two artists formed lo.automatic, eventually adding other players, including James “Longsleeves” Musselman, who has since relocated to San Diego, where he recently released an excellent, Radiohead-in-your-pocket album called Killing Aesthetics. 

“James and I were both on a bill for a show at Convolution Records,” explained Miles, “He found me on Myspace. At the time I was still very ill, but I was on my way up. One thing I would say to myself as a means to stay positive was that I was stronger than 1,000 lions. I posted this blatant lie on my web page. James saw it and, not knowing my situation at the time, thought I was being cocky.”

Musselman and Miles began working together in the spring of 2006 on what would become Miles’ third solo album, the aptly titled 1,000 Lions.

“After the Convolution show we spoke at length and discussed music, recording gear and other topics,” said Musselman, “Before the end of the night I offered my recording services in the event he needed them.” The project quickly fell into place as Musselman worked as the album’s co-producer and engineer, offering Miles his lo-fi mobile recording techniques, a set-up that Miles welcomed compared to the expensive studio sessions he’d been a part of in the past. 

Eventually Musselman’s wandering spirit landed him in California. 

“We’d marched on through the recordings despite real-life obligations until James disappeared to California, leaving me to sort it all out. I called (lo.automaic guitarist) Jon [Keller], who is a registered engineer, and he took over as producer,” said Miles when asked about the recording of 1,000 Lions.

Quickly becoming known as one of the area’s most stirring young guitarists, the 20-year-old (E-bow-clad) Keller – who Miles says “can play any Elliott Smith song” – hit it off with Miles quickly following the same Convolution Records show at which Miles and Musselman became acquainted at. 

“I wasn’t really looking to join a band and had never met another musician that I wanted to be in a band with,” said Keller. “After Lee and I met I found that we liked a lot of the same music.”

A studying guitarist now for over half his life, Keller also had much to offer on the topic of Miles’ modus operandi, “Lee is very opinionated and doesn’t put up with [much]. Those qualities tend to make people think he’s a jerk, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Lee is a quite sensitive and honest musician that puts his heart any emotions into his music and lyrics.” 

Trying to explain Miles’ abovementioned “guts-without-glory” stance is not always easy. He’s the type of artist that takes his work very seriously and isn’t afraid to make the kind of music he loves, even though it might not go over well in a city like Fort Wayne.

When asked about his influences and approach to songwriting, the highly literate Miles mentions writers Charles Bukowski, Ayn Rand and Allen Ginsberg as well as songwriters Jandek, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Elliot Smith and, most notably, Will Oldham (Palace, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy), adding “I’d say Will is my … yeah, he’s probably my favorite songwriter.” While the actual sound of Miles’ music would most easily be compared to the typically cryptic and oddly whimsical Oldham, his “no thanks” approach brings to mind the spirit of Jandek. 

Known as an “outsider musician,” Jandek has self-released some 49 albums since 1978, never offering his real name, personal information, interviews or anything else resembling self-promotion. Basically, Jandek lets his music, and only his music, speak for itself. 

“I saw Bob Dylan play at Notre Dame in the late 90s. He didn’t say a word in between sets. He didn’t have to. This is the kind of music I want to hear, the kind of music that doesn’t need to be sold with a bag of [B.S] tricks,” said the ever-candid Miles. This attitude, along with his penchant for substance and originality over accessibility, echoes the attitude of both Jandek and Oldham, two artists who have never seen much commercial success yet continue following their own artistic progressions regardless.

While in correspondence for this very article Miles sent over a song called, “Wait for Thee,” with an accompanying note that simply said “Here’s a new one I just finished.” Weeks earlier Miles had also passed along an early, unfinished copy of 1,000 Lions and a covers-only album titled Leaves That are Green. While Leaves was full of bare, well arranged interpretations of off-the-cuff tracks, 1,000 Lions was a loose, lyrically dense offering full of subtly varied Americana tunes that featured, as hinted at earlier by Miles, brilliantly detailed, toned-down vocals reminiscent of early Oldham. Anyone familiar with the famed initial home recordings of both John Darnielle (Mountain Goats) and Oldham himself will have an instant soundcrush on 1,000 Lions. 

But don’t be fooled by the expression “home recordings.” Miles craft is long-labored, and he knows how to use his resources. The results, frankly, are better than the previously mentioned (and often spotty and lazy) early work of Darnielle and Oldham, two artists who’ve gone on to release shelves full of first-rate, fully-baked Americana albums. Explaining the sound of Miles’ recent work any further is tempting, but probably better saved for a future review. Let’s just say that Miles rightfully calls 1,000 Lions the best work of his life.

On the subject of his plans for his latest, greatest batch of recordings, Miles seemed nearly exhausted when thinking about 1,000 Lions, an album he’d originally planned to have completed long ago. “I wanted it out by 2006,” he said, “but it’s already a fourth of the way through 2007 and it’s still not out. It will, however, be out by mid-April.” When then asked about marketing for the album, Miles’ honorable Jandek-inspired spirit came to the forefront. “I’m sick of marketing. Marketing is for T-shirts and hair products and other [stuff] you don’t need. If people want my music they’ll find it. Otherwise, they can obviously live without it.” Upon further prodding, Miles did say that people interested in acquiring his music should start by checking his website at www.leemiles.us.

This lack of enthusiasm for selling himself to potential fans doesn’t necessarily mean that Miles is against the concept of getting his music out to record labels. When asked about his intentions in this regard, Miles said that he plans to shop the recordings to labels in hope for some interest, adding “I will single out [Chicago’s] Drag City most certainly.”

Though not a big label by any means, Drag City has – over the last 15 years or-so – established a reputation as the label for often misunderstood, too-smart-for-their-own-good songwriters. Songwriters like Smog’s Bill Callahan, the Silver Jews’ D.C. Berman and, naturally, Will Oldham. Sounds like good company for Fort Wayne’s most uncompromising and persistent young songwriter and his ante-upping new album, 1,000 Lions.

(This story, published in Whatzup on March 22, 2007, is being revisited in anticipation of Miles’ upcoming new album, HEATHEN BLUX.)  

NUVO: Hi Josh.

Josh Ritter: Totally. Hi.

NUVO: A friend of mine who sings in an indie-rock band tells me that you’ve been playing a Modest Mouse song at your shows. He’s curious to know if you listen to very much indie-rock music, or if you stick mostly to roots music.  

JR: Yeah, I slip “Tiny Cities Made of Ashes” into my set. I don’t really see that there’s a different between indie-rock and other stuff - it’s just an aesthetic. Everybody is indie-rock when they start out. I listen to a lot of stuff; I’m a Joanna Newsom fan, I’m a big fan of what Spoon does. I have increasingly more friends who are traveling and touring who make music that I like. That sort of thing with “roots” and “indie” and stuff, well, I think it’s sort of, you know, just sort of categories. I love Isaac Brock, though, his lyrics are just amazing.  

NUVO: You mentioned Joanna Newsom. I’m a big fan of hers as well, but even more so a fan of her boyfriend, Bill Callahan, who writes song in the same sub-sub-sub-genre as you. Do you know his music at all?

JR: Yeah, I know it a little bit. I have some Smog records. I like a lot of it. I’m also a huge Will Oldham fan and stuff like that - I really like what he does. It all seems positive, you know, they’re great musicians. It’s cool to have peers who are doing exciting things.

NUVO: Is this current tour a solo tour or with a band … or maybe with Hilary Hahn?

JR: Full band. Yeah, I’m touring with the full band right now.

NUVO: So are you still out supporting your latest record, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, or are you touring in support of the live album? Road-testing new songs? JR: This tour is all about playing the places I haven’t played that much. I’ve played Indianapolis a couple of times but, you know. I’ve been touring a long time now and, really, I’m just happy to be touring. I love the Music Mill and I love the town. It’s gonna be a big, loud, happy rock n’ roll show.NUVO: Yeah, I was just going to say that it seems like you’ve been working really hard on the road. I have to wonder if you’re getting bored with playing the new songs or if you’re mixing in new songs or …

NUVO: What can you tell me about originally getting signed, having your new record, Oh My Darling!, released and then playing the first shows after people were able to buy your album and get to know it.

Basia Bulat: When I made the record I wasn’t really planning on having it released commercially - not on a label or anything. So having it on a label, especially on Rough Trade, is awesome. I’m still really humbled when people come up to me at the end of a show and want me to sign a CD or even want to buy a CD.

NUVO:  How did the tour with DeVotchKa come about. Can you tell me a little about how the tour has been going so far?

BB: They heard our album and asked us to open for them. This show we’re playing tonight is going to be our third together. They’re awesome. Amazing. I’ve actually been a fan of their’s for quite a while. I think I heard the Curse Your Little Heart EP first, then I heard How It Ends and, you know, it’s just cool to be able to tour with them because I think we have a lot of common ground, so to speak, so it’s kind of fun to be able to watch them play. They are just like us in that they play a bunch of weird instruments … so that’s fun, touring with people who are like-minded.

NUVO:  Yeah, there is definitely some like-mindedness there, and I have to think you guys could have some crossover in your audiences. Have the crowds so far seemed to know you and your songs?

BB: Some people in the crowd come out for us, I think. In San Francisco a couple of people who had come to my first San Francisco show came out, so it was nice to see them again. Some songs, like “In the Night,” which we made a video for, seem to hit people. So it’s nice when people recognize a song and there is a little cheer. I think I’m still pretty unknown in the States though, so it’s nice to get this exposure. Certainly DeVotchKa fans are really nice fans - they’re music-loving fans, so I really appreciate the opportunity to be able to lay for people who come to listen to the music. And we’re already learning a lot from watching them play.

NUVO:  All that said, I should tell you that I requested to write about your upcoming Indianapolis show because I’m a fan of your album. Don’t get me wrong, I like DeVotchKa and think they’re amazing, but after hearing your album I’m more so a fan of yours.

BB: That’s so funny. I can’t even explain to you how weird it is for me now. We made that album over a year and a half ago and it’s just … I used my student loans to make my record, you know. It’s just really cool to go random places and see that people know the songs. I just never expected that. It’s hard sometimes to tour, but things like this make it a lot easier - to know that people appreciate it. It really means a lot [laughing], so thank you so much. It’s been a long drive the past couple or days and sometimes the gas gets kind of expensive, so it’s just nice to, you know, just to get that from people.

NUVO:  Yeah, I was just at a record store and got lucky. It was the kind where you trust the employees, and saw your album on the Employee Picks wall. I looked at it like I look at everything else and liked the design and the artwork on the back and saw that it was on a label that I trust. I went home and listened to samples online and eventually found the “In the Night Video” and, you know, loved it. So I went out and bought the album and have just been kind of celebrating it as this great debut record ever since. Truly great debut albums are pretty rare, so I’ve been excited …

BB: I’m glad you liked the video. That was the greatest time ever. We got a grant. In Canada they have these grants for artists to make videos, so we got this grant and it was just so great to make the video in the same city we made the record. That whole song and the whole reason I make music is all about finding light in the darkness. The video was really good that way because in Montreal it’s pretty cold in November, so we were all freezing our butts off and dressed really silly, so it made it all worth it. Even when it’s freezing cold in Montreal we can have a good time.

NUVO: It’s such a cool idea for the video, and a great way to give you, a new artist, more of a visual identity. Speaking of your album, it was released outside of the U.S. last year, right?

BB: Yes, Yeah it was …

NUVO: So did you tour outside of the U.S. much last year?

BB: Yeah, I did. It actually came out first in Japan, in like April of 2007. I’ve never been to Japan. I’ve always wanted to go but I think it’s going to be a while before I get there. But then it came out in Europe last May on Rough Trade. We went on tour there. We did a European tour for about five or six weeks through April and May. Then it came out at home at the end of the summer, so we’ve been doing Canada non-stop. We did a bunch of summer festivals in Canada, came home at the end of the summer and have really just been doing Canada shows non-stop. Then a little bit of the U.S. once the album came out here this past February. We’re pulling out all the stops now. We’re coming back through the States constantly - I’ll be here all year.

NUVO: Since you’ve been playing these songs live for quite a while now, have the songs changed or have you guys started to incorporate any new songs into your set?

BB: Yes to both, actually. Some people who played on the record couldn’t tour with me, so we have different people playing on the songs and, you know, a lot of those songs were written when I was in a very specific time. There’s a lot about it that’s … not naive, but, I don’t know. I think now I can look back at those songs and I can’t necessarily sing them from the same place, but it’s kind of fun to look back at myself then and sing them now while sort of inhabiting that space. Does that make sense? They seem different to me even if they don’t seem too different coming through the speakers. I’ve also certainly become a much stronger singer now than I was then just because I lost my voice when I was making the record and didn’t really have the technique that I do now. And, yes, we’re playing a lot of new songs. We’re supposed to be making a new record. We should be going into the studio this summer, but until then I’ll be just kind of peppering the new songs into all our sets.

NUVO: Good. I also saw online that you supposedly have an EP before your first album. I can’t find the thing anywhere; was it a small release …

BB: Oooooh. [Laughing.] I think what a lot of people are calling an EP was actually just some demos I recorded for this college student who was doing this thing … it was his final project for school. I think we made like 50 copies or 100 copies of it and just gave them away. It wasn’t really an EP. But some of the songs on there are songs that ended up on my record, like “Snakes and Ladders” is on there. It’s funny because that was the first time I really did anything related to recording, but it wasn’t really a studio, it was really just a bedroom recording - just a couple of mics in a bedroom. It wasn’t really what I had envisioned for the songs, but it is funny that people are calling it an EP. It never really was for sale, you know. I don’t know, it never was really extended as a player. In short, no, it wasn’t really an official release. It was burned on CD-Rs and given away.

NUVO: Okay, I guess I’ll stop looking …

BB: It’s not really that strong. Going into the studio with Howard was the first time I ever really took my songs seriously and, you know, started thinking about my songs in a way where I wanted to do my best for them. It was a really eye-opening experience. The new album is really the first attempt for me.

NUVO: Wow. That’s surprising, really. Just being that it’s a debut album - I usually don’t expect to hear compositions as strong as yours the first time out or songs that are so varied throughout, you know. You don’t really ever repeat yourself, so I just figured you had 18 albums in your hometown in Canada that we’d never heard of.

BB: Thanks. No, no. Sadly, I was even shocked that anyone wanted to put this one out. When I got the message first from Rough Trade I really thought that Howard Bilerman, my friend who produced and recorded the record with me was playing a trick on me. I didn’t know that he’d been sending the album out and talking to people about me. It’s weird because I just never thought it’d come out. It’s pretty cool that people are liking it. I’m a little bit overwhelmed sometimes, actually. I wish I could be a little less Pollyanna about it [laughing].

NUVO: So when you were in the studio making these songs with Howard - who I know has worked with the Arcade Fire and many others - was it mostly your ideas for how the songs were laid out, or did you have a bunch of musicians you played with who helped things come together?

BB: I was living in London, Ontario, which is where I went to school, and I had this apartment that was this awesome, tiny little apartment I shared with my friend Dave, who plays on the record, and my friend Nikki. I would just be writing these songs and I’d get Dave to play on them and we’d have these friends who would come over and jam. I’d usually know, you know, how I wanted the strings to sound, but they’d be able to make it sound better. Any my brother plays drums, so I’ve been playing with him my whole life. We understand each other’s thinking and logic. I have these weird ways of describing how I want a song to feel that don’t seem to make any sense when I say it, but everyone seemed to get it. I think it’s because everyone who plays on the album is such a close friend that it didn’t really need as much notation. I could just sing it out loud how I hear it in my head and they could just all get where I was going with it. I think I was kind of the director and songwriter but, like, you know, when I hear the piano I hear my friend Eric or I hear my friend Trent playing. When I hear the drums I hear my brother’s spirit in there. That was important. That’s why I play music - to play with other people.

NUVO: So is this current tour your first real long-term exposure to U.S. culture or, being from Canada, are you already familiar with it?

BB: When we toured in February we did a lot of club shows as headliners across the States. This tour is bigger halls because DeVotchKa is so well known. We’re getting to play in front of a lot more people, which is a lot of fun. I studied American Literature in university quite a bit. It seems like every state in the U.S. really has its own identity. I think a lot of places in America are just so different from each other. It’s just, I don’t know, that’s a really cool thing. People on the California coast are so different from the people we saw in Texas when we went down for South by Southwest, which is so different from New York City. It’s really fascinating.

NUVO: What about the musical culture; have you seen any differences between Canada and the U.S. in how music is treated?

BB: A lot of the music I grew up on is American music. When I was a kid I didn’t even really know about commercial radio. I grew up listening to all the stuff you’d hear on A.M. radio - Motown and Stax and the Golden Hits kind of thing. I listened to a lot of that, as well as a lot of American folk music like the Carter Family and Johnny Cash. I think a lot of my growing up has been more influenced by American music than Canadian music. It’s just different. Certainly in Canada there is a lot of support for the arts from a national standpoint. There just seems to be a different way that people go about their work in the U.S., but I don’t really think that I - who have only really been here for a month - can really say with too much authority what the differences are or even much about the music culture in the States is right now.

NUVO: Festivals have become a big part of our live music culture, especially in the last decade. Are you guys planning to play any of the big festivals here in the States this year?

BB: No, not this year. I will be playing a festival in September, I think, somewhere South. I don’t even know what state it is, but I know I’ll be back in the fall, starting down South. In July we’ll be in Northwest Canada to play Canadian festivals. So, really, it’s the Canadian festivals this time around.

NUVO: This is your second time playing Indiana already, though, right? You played Bloomington a few months ago if I remember correctly.

BB: Yeah, this will be our second time. Bloomington was really nice. There seemed to be a big artistic community there.

NUVO: Yeah, definitely. I actually went to college there as a studio art major and, as far as the three major universities in Indiana that most people have heard of go - IU, Notre Dame and Purdue - Indiana is definitely regarded as the most liberal and arts-friendly of the three. It’s a college town, but there’s also a great student radio station, some great venues and lots of bands. Hippies hanging around.

BB: It seemed like a really great town.

NUVO: You guys are playing at the Vogue on Saturday, May 10, which is located in this area of Indianapolis called Broad Ripple, which is also a really arts-friendly sort of place. Lots of worthwhile places, records stores and …

BB: Ahhhh, you have to tell me about these record stores! I need names, you know, now …

NUVO: Yeah, of course. It’s really easy. If there were no walls around the stage at the Vogue you could look over your shoulder and see this placed called Indy CD & Vinyl, which is just off of North College in this area full of restaurants, bars and most independently-owned stores. The venue is actually on North College Avenue, which is really just a few blocks down from another store called Luna Music.

BB: And it’s vinyl mostly?

NUVO: They have vinyl, surely. I won’t say that either are really true vinyl stores, but both stores do have some choice vinyl. The Luna store is great because they don’t really carry any too obvious stuff - it’s all the cool stuff you won’t find in most stores in the U.S.

BB: There are two things I’m really looking for on vinyl and having a lot of trouble finding …

NUVO: Really, what are they?

BB: The first one is a record by an artist named Exuma. I don’t know if you’re familiar with him. I guess you’d call him a folk artist; I think he’s brilliant but I don’t think his label really knew how to classify him. I’m looking for his self-titled album on vinyl, which is his first record. It’s never been reissued or anything, so I’m having a lot of trouble. He grew up in the Bahamas, which I think is where he really got his start. Oh, and I’m also looking for a copy of Sam Cooke Live at the Harlem Square. That’s one of my favorite albums and I only have it on CD. I’ve been trying to find it, but nowhere in the States yet.

NUVO: Has Rough Trade put Oh My Darling! out on vinyl yet?

BB: No, not yet. I’ve been talking with them about doing that because I do get a lot of requests for it. I think we’re going to do that soon. But for now, on this tour we’re doing a tour-only 7” single of a Sam Cooke song. The B-side is this blown-out, pull-out-all-the-stops 1960s Phil Spector type of remake of “Before I Knew.” It’s going to be fun to have a 7” out. Everyone but me seems to have it already, but I should be getting it tomorrow.

NUVO: So you’ll have it for sale at the Indianapolis show?

BB: Yeah, we were supposed to have them by now and we will finally have them tomorrow. This is supposed to be the tour single, which is special to me because Sam Cooke is one of my favorite artists ever.

NUVO: His voice is so amazing.

BB: Yeah, if I could list people who had a real influence on the way I think about music he’d definitely be one of them. I wish I could go back in time because, you know, if I could he’d be one of the people I’d really want to try to meet and see.

NUVO: Who else?

BB: Oh God. Janis Joplin. If we’re speaking strictly about musicians, Janis Joplin. Nick Drake. Ohhh. Maybe … well, those are all I can think of right now. Lets talk about the living. I really want to try to go and see one of Levon Helm’s Midnight Rambles. I’m dying to go see one of his shows and see him play and hopefully say hello to him.

NUVO: The new album he put out last year was pretty amazing.

BB: Yeah, definitely. And I guess I’d also want to meet Rick Danko and Richard Manuel, too - you know, if I could go back. We played the Fillmore, and it wasn’t the same place as The Last Waltz or anything, but the poster said “Bill Graham presents DeVotchKa and Basia Bulat,” and I just thought that was pretty cool because Bill was the guy who put on The Last Waltz. Oh, and I love Townes Van Zandt and Hazel Dickens.

NUVO: Hazel Dickens?

BB: Yeah, if you love Townes you’ll love Hazel. Her album I’ve been listening to is called Hard Hitting Songs for Hard Hit People. She’s absolutely phenomenal. I’ve been listening to her album all through this tour; it just seems to be the right record.

NUVO: Do you like Karen Dalton at all?

BB: Oh yeah, she’s great. It’s nice to know that some music writers know female artists. Just because I’m Canadian I’ll usually just get a lot of the very well known Canadian artists as reference points. It kind of makes me sad that people only really seem to know and talk about women of the last five years. It’s sad to say, but a lot of times people just don’t seem to be as interested in music by women. It’s just nice to know that someone would ask me about Karen Dalton.

NUVO: I usually get blank looks when I mention someone like Karen, so it’s nice for me, too.

BB: Maybe these people just need to go to the record stores. That’s all, right?

NUVO: Dig a bit. Now that you’ve been on the road a bit, what are some of the good things and not-so-good things. I hear a lot about the food being so bad, but what else?

BB: I think the hardest part is just being away from family. It’s exciting to go on a road trip with your friends, but different people have different situations with their families that make it hard to leave. For me that is for sure the hardest thing about being away - but when you get home you’re really happy, and you realize that the trip you just went on was pretty amazing. And, obviously, to be able to play music for people and to get the response from people who are really enjoying it makes it worth it no matter what. Yeah, really crappy things can happen on the road and it’s not human to sit in a van for 8 hours at a time … or, goodness, we drove 30 straight hours figuring we’d sleep the next night. That’s not good for you, but they’re things that will hopefully get better in the end. If I was doing this and I didn’t love music it would feel wrong, but at some point - and maybe I’m too green - but I feel like I have to do it. I guess I could go back to working at the movie store, but there really isn’t anything else that I want to do. The van is becoming the home.

NUVO: I’ve seen some of your songs on TV commercials …

BB: Yeah, “In the Night,” we had that one used for a thing for AMC, which is cool. If there are more than two commercials then that’s news to me. It’s hard to make money anywhere in music right now. It’s really hard to sell records because people aren’t buying as many records as they used to. I see people online talking about downloading, which makes me think that my generation is going to be the last who remember that you’re supposed to pay for music. I guess it’s cool that you can get it so quickly - I mean, how many times did I mail-order a CD or tape and have to wait so long and hope that I’d still be into it when it showed up. So I guess it’s exciting to have stuff on TV and the Internet. I guess if I had a commercial that blew me into the mainstream - or people downloaded a song from a blog or heard the AMC commercial - that would be good because then maybe they’d come to a show, and that’s what I really love to do - play live with my friends. I love recording, and that’s important, but people being interested enough to come out to a show is what really strikes home for me.

NUVO: Are there any contemporary artists, peers, really - be them male or female artists also working right now - who you are inspired by or just really impressed with right now?

BB: Oh God. There are so many. Do you know Final Fantasy? We did this tour with him and every single night I was blown away, I just love his music so much. Touring with DeVotchKa has been amazing. I’ve been lucky that most of the people I’ve been touring with I find really inspiring. That’s been a real stroke of luck for me. I think the new Bon Iver album, For Emma, Forever Ago, is wonderful. It’s a really, really great record. A lot of bands in Canada, too, like the Great Lake Swimmers. I could just go on and on if you wanted me to.

NUVO: Bon Iver’s record label is actually in Indiana, in Bloomington even …

BB: Yeah, Secretly Canadian is in Bloomington, right?

NUVO: Yeah, a couple others, too. Jagjaguwar and Dead Oceans.

BB: Oh yeah, that’s right. Dirty Projectors are on Dead Oceans and they’re just crazy good. That’s pretty cool - a real music town.

NUVO: There are actually good labels in Indianapolis, too, and some really amazing bands scattered throughout Indiana.

BB: Songwriters?

NUVO: There’s a guy named Lee Miles who …

BB: M-Y-L-E-S?

NUVO: M-I-L-E-S

BB: I’m gonna look him up.

NUVO: Is there anything we missed? Anything we didn’t talk about?

BB: I’m bad at this. The 7” single. The record is in stores. Hopefully people will like the show and come back. We’re having a good time - lots of bets so far. Lots of jokes and we’re only three days in right now. I just hope people enjoy the show; hopefully we don’t disappoint after all this …

NUVO: No, I’ve seen all the live footage on YouTube; I think people are going to be surprised.

BB: Wicked. Thanks.

Aside from more festival-, reissue- and tour-announcement news than one stiff-lipped column can handle, 2008 has seen very little in the way of gossip- and gag-worthy music news of late. Sure, the whole bit about The Raconteurs releasing an unexpected new album only a week after announcing its completion was way cool, but, really – aside from the news of a new Silver Jews record – that’s about the only thing that’s gone down in the last month worth remembering. When are Doug Martsch, Lou Barlow, Ted Leo and [enter your indie rock god here] going finally to announce their plans to record an anti-super group platter o’ wax? Who is Fiona Apple dating these days, and is she ever going to write some new songs? And, most importantly, when the blazes are we finally going to learn the juicy details about Ryan Adams’ long-discussed box set? About a month and a half into 2008, due to a lack of news, Ease decided to get critical, offering up a roundup of some of the year’s best albums so far, complete with ratings. That was about a month and a half ago now, and, since there still isn’t a whole lot of news to try to write bad jokes about, we’re going to once again list and briefly discuss some of what we believe to be the year’s most notable albums thus far. Ratings, too.

R.E.M.’s Accelerate: The 11 songs on this semi-return to form will be celebrated by longtime fans if only because they’re eons better than the band’s last couple of albums, which have been the kind you buy, listen to once and then either sell off, put on the shelf or use as a white elephant gift come the holiday season. Accelerate drops enabler Pat McCarthy’s instantly dated production in favor of Jacknife Lee’s area-ready guitar hero sound. That’s right, Peter Buck is riffing somewhat hard again; Stipe, too, again seems comfortable just doing what he’s good at – which is what he should’ve been doing all along. 8/10 

Sun Kil Moon’s April: Mark “Sun Kil Moon” Kozelek’s post-Red House Painters career has been increasingly celebrated over the past couple of years, specifically his Ghosts of the Great Highway record, which April seems to somewhat of a sequel to. Forever equally indebted to American Music Club and Neil Young, Sun Kil Moon offer up 11 new songs here, some three-electric-guitars-at-a-time rockers, others bare and honest acoustic ballads. Kozelek’s amazing voice still tends to wear at times but, damn, just about everything else is perfectly wispy Americana bliss. Sure to be on just about every year-end list come December. 8.5/10 

Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks’ Real Emotional Trash: Seventies stoner jams meet The Indie Kid in an alley and come out silly, loopy and fresh. Though the backbone of the album is still wholly Malkmus, the sound is new for him; pounding, sometimes excessive and always organic, Trash is the sound of a long-proven artist spreading his wings for the sake of exploration and growth. Malkmus, as always, comes out looking at once smart and smart alecky. 9.5/10 

Lee Miles’ Heathen Blux: The growth shown on Lee Miles 2007 album, 1,000 Lions, while significant, is doubled on Heathen Blux, an 11-song songwriter album coiled from a batch of 23 well made home recordings. The lyrics. The small details. That voice. Oh, the lyrics. Limited resources and all, Miles has crafted a long-studied junk drawer classic that resonates with more knuckle-splitting guts and lo-fi craftiness than believable. 9.49/10 

She & Him’s Volume One: M. Ward’s champion arrangements and actress Zooey Deschanel’s cutesy-as-hell vocals make for an album full of peaks and valleys that instantly brings to mind Jenny Lewis’ memorable Rabbit Fur Coat. The high points on this roots-y 60s girl group-meets-country-pop album are some of the best so far this year. 7.5/10 

Counting Crows’ Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings: The Counting Crows stick to the formula on their long-awaited fifth album: self-obsessed college freshman poetics; organic guitars that always sound about to break free (but almost never do); powerful sing-along hooks sung by one of the best pop-rock voices of all; and, well, you get it – it sounds like the Counting Crows. Sure, it’s about as far from innovative as albums get, but that’s not the point with the Crows; Saturday sounds comfortable and familiar. Take the time to learn these songs and – for the most part – you’ll forget why you ever doubted Duritz and Co. 6.5/10 

The Kills’ Midnight Boom: Part trashy party album, part art-star rock album, Midnight Boom sees The Kills finally living up to their promise. While at least half of the songs are, at best, growers, the other half are drop-dead brilliant modernizations of the early-70s NYC back alley sound, updated with blips and oddly fitting mechanical production. 7.5/10 

The Black Keys’ Attack & Release: Said to be The Black Keys album for people who don’t like The Black Keys, Attack & Release  – in a way completely different than the just mentioned Midnight Boom – slightly updates (or at least adds to) the classic rock genre, mixing in touches of primal blues and unpredictable left-field flourishes. There are moments here, like on all Keys albums, that sound instantly classic and timeless. A ballsy record, surely. 8/10 

Destroyer’s Trouble In Dreams: Not much needs to be said about this one. If you like Dan Bejar’s whimsical, sometimes complex pop songs, then you’ll find much to enjoy about Trouble In Dreams, an album that plays through like a more accessible version of the band’s previous album, Destroyer’s Rubies. Folk-era Bowie, anyone? 7.5/10 

Flowers Forever’s Flowers Forever: Obscurists take note, this heady art-rock side project from Tilly and the Wall’s Derek Pressnall, while not for everyone, houses some of the year’s most interesting and clever “pop” moments. Pressnall’s high-art ambition comes off like a drugged-up, potty-mouthed, anything-goes version of Wolf Parade. That’s a good thing. 9.33/10 

Also worth checking out: Retribution Gospel Choir’s Retribution Gospel Choir; Born Ruffians’ Red, Yellow & Blue; The Raconteurs’ Consolers of the Lonely; The Raveonettes’ Lust, Lust, Lust; Ike Reilly’s Poison the Hit Parade 

Stephen Malkmus: Real Emotional Trash: 4 1/2 Stars

Before the release of this, Stephen Malkmus’ fourth album following the breakup of his name-making band, Pavement, finding a relation between the quality of the man’s output to how much control he has over the writing, playing and recording of his songs was inevitable. Pavement, surely a spirited crew of chums to the end, could hardly keep up with Malkmus’ ability following the beautiful mess that was Wowee Zowee. Likewise, his first and third solo albums – the ones he wrote, played and recorded almost entirely by himself – were better than his second, Pig Lib, which was great, but at times uneven. Real Emotional Trash, Malkmus and his Jicks’ first album since the addition of powerhouse drummer Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney, Quasi), is the most collaborative Malkmus-related album since he and Spiral Stairs were first destroying guitars in Gary Young’s home studio in 1991. This does make Trash different than any other Malkmus record; but don’t worry, it’s also very good and – along with Slanted and Stephen Malkmus – his most cohesive record, playing through with a very organic, live-in-studio feel, a rare attribute no other Malkmus album can wholly claim.

Does this added element of collaboration water down the Malkmus-isms that make his records so special? Maybe. Maybe a little bit here and there, but not necessarily in a way that obscures the brilliance of his craft. After a few listens, the meaty-as-hell guitar riffs and slow-pounding classic rock rhythms that open the album come off as an anthem for a new kind of Jick. Malkmus rips all over opener “Dragonfly Pie,” showing that he has no problem keeping up with Weiss’ every pounding expectation, proving that the noodle-y winks spread throughout his past were no joke. The song, like any good Malkmus offering, inevitably turns silly, with our man splitting time between his familiar girly voice and heavy, dirty guitar solos. The stoner/pop duality of this song sets the stage for Trash, an album that sees the band playing strictly organic music that sounds exactly how an album from a crew of notable 90s rockers bent on both 70s music and the quirkier side of Brit-pop should.

The seven-minute “Hopscotch Willie” is a surprisingly fluent trip, harboring Malkmus’ least obscure lyrics since his eponymous solo debut. Still a clinic in obscurity compared to the average college radio tune, “Willie” manages to be lengthy without ever feeling loopy, mixing solos and movements in a pseudo-prog, kitchen-sink-Zeppelin sort of way we haven’t yet heard from Malkmus. This is not surprising, really, considering the ever-growing amount of goofy guitar noodling on his records. Next up is “Cold Son,” one of Trash’s shortest offerings at just under four minutes. Here Malkmus again splices his stoner-rock and pop-rock loves into one, crafting a trippy-but-catchy song made to satisfy Wowee Zowee-era Pavement enthusiasts.

A clear focus on diversity keeps Real Emotional Trash’s songs from ever sounding too similar. Rumbling live-in-studio sound in tow, songs like “Baltimore” and, especially, “Real Emotional Trash” are at first challenging, clocking in at around seven and 10 minutes each. “Baltimore,” Trash’s default lead single, will appeal to the “jam kids” Malkmus himself snarkily sang about in the mid 90s. Full of silver-tongued lyrical poetics and what appears again to be a prog-rock approach to long-form pop, the song feels more like a journey than a jam, trading off memorable one-liners, hooks and guitar solos to sweetly stitched-together results. The album’s title track, likewise, attempts to be epic without ever falling into the loopy category. Malkmus knows what a jam is, surely, but doesn’t play by the rules. Rather than wanking around too indulgently on his guitar, “Real Emotional Trash” sees Malkmus working in chapters, building a cohesive song for the ages that displays his self-taught guitar prowess better than anything else he’s put on tape.

But, like we were saying, this is an album built on diversity – one that contains a few pure pop moments. “Gardenia,” for one, is unapologetically bouncy and sugarcoated with “bop-bop-ba-da-da-da” backing vocals; it’s the kind of wordy, weird and joyous song that only SxMx could dream up. Along with the aforementioned “Cold Son” and instantly classic sounding “We Can’t Help You” (think Wilco’s recent “What Light”), “Gardenia” reminds listeners of the man’s minimalist genius. He’s a master of left-field pop, and, unlikely as it seems, he’s somehow found a way to take said genre’s backbone and make it breathe. He’s writing songs that he and his band will surely be able to open up on stage when they feel like it – songs that, without being too “jammy” on record, are made perfect for changing each time they’re played, not at all different from The Grateful Dead’s folk-pop masterpiece American Beauty.

Collaborative, heavy in sound and full of weirdo slacker charm, Trash is another great chapter in the long book of Leather McWhip. Be it a Pavement, Silver Jews or Jicks record, Malkmus refuses to do the same thing twice. Calling this one of the very best records of his career – if only for its ambition, unique yet subtle genre-melding and skillful playing – would not be an overstatement. Calling it the first great album of 2008 is a no-brainer. (Greg Locke)

Beck: Odelay (Deluxe Edition): 4 Stars

Beck’s second major label album, Odelay, was released in 1996 – just as some of my friends were working on wrecking their first cars and hunting down their first girlfriends. I vaguely remember having someone drive me to a Handy Dandy to meet up with a radio station van that was running a live feed. I’d won an advance copy of Beck’s then unreleased classic album over the phone, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. I’d been a fan of grunge, hip-hop and classic rock for the whole of my young life, so, needless to say, I flipped the first time I heard the genre-bending “Where It’s At” on MTV. Sure, I liked “Loser” and some of Beck’s previous songs, but Odelay was instantly something different: it was and still is an incredibly produced genre-masher no one could’ve ever expected. Because of this personal history with Beck’s funky pop classic I wasn’t surprised to find myself racing out on the day of its release to pick up the uber-expanded reissue of the album. After all, this was arguably the most creative and influential Platinum-selling album of the 90s.

Let’s start by stating the obvious: most reissues are little more than a ploy by record labels to get people to pay for an album a second time, sans all the initial recording, design and marketing costs. Most include demos, live songs, videos, interviews or alternate recordings, but not usually a whole lot more that truly warrants the price of readmission. This is not the case with Odelay: Deluxe Edition. Along with the original 13-song album, buyers also get a rare Odelay-era soundtrack song, two never-before-heard songs, three remixes and, most importantly, 13 mostly rare b-sides from the Odelay sessions. Remixes aside, this 33-song collection only further establishes the greatness of Odelay.

An underdog experimentalist before the release of this album, Beck worked long and hard on these dense, imaginative recordings, reportedly writing and recording enough material for three albums, a rumor proven by the girth of this reissue. The core album – which in retrospect could most easily be described as a mishmash of the Beastie Boys, grunge, pop and folk – still sounds bigger than life and as brainy and varied as anything from its era. Pair the 13 b-sides with the three other rare studio tracks, and you have yourself Odelay, Pt. 2, a worthwhile extension to an already essential album.

The “bonus album” here, which is being playfully dubbed as Deadweight (after one of the many bonus tracks) in fan circles, sounds consistent to Odelay’s core material, though rightfully not quite as memorable. The songs bleep and burst, usually feeling more like cut-and-paste projects than actual songs. We learn from the extensive liner notes that Beck plays most of the instruments on the songs, accompanied most often by production cohorts The Dust Brothers, who add a programmed layer of static-y grime, offering this lengthy collection an element of continuity.

In addition to the completist-friendly content on Odelay: Deluxe Edition, you also get a few unexpected perks. Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore, for one, contributes a write-up that works as a foreword to the Dave Eggers-penned liner notes. All lyrics and original art is included, as well as some rare additional art, a protective slipcase and some goofy, spiffed-up exterior art made to remind listeners that Odelay is supposed to be a fun record. Where most reissues prey on the loyalty of devout fans, this project – coordinated by Shauna O’Brien – is a generous collection of material that should not only make fans feel nostalgic for the sound of the summer of 1996 but also offer the very worthwhile scraps Beck left in his determined, arty rubble.

Not every generation gets a Bowie, but the rockers (and rappers, and funkers) of the 90s did, and this is his masterpiece, an album that still sounds great some 140 months later. It was and still is youthful music for youthful days, an album that will likely sound forever fresh, artistically ambitious and stylistically wandering. (Greg Locke)

The Magnetic Fields: Distortion: 4 Stars
Where does Stephin Merritt get off? The creative force not just behind The Magnetic Fields, but also a number of other bands, Merritt uses his latest album, Distortion, to remind us of his two greatest assets: 1) He will never do things “the normal way”; 2) He will never establish a signature “home sound.” For some listeners an artist with ever-challenging approaches like Merritt is little other than annoying; for those hell-bent on the concept of art-through-growth, Merritt is – even when his work misses the mark, which is often – an inspiring creative force with a whole lot of mixed-bag albums and an endless imagination.

There are contrasting elements everywhere on Distortion, a surprisingly rockin’ record that plays through like a sing-along summer album made for freezing winter months. Despite having a thick blanket of drone-y (but warm) guitar fuzz over the whole baker’s dozen, little else about the collection makes an argument for fluidity as tact. There are multiple singers throughout, a heavy load of similar but different guitar and keyboard sounds and plenty of kinda creepy arthouse style. Oh, and it’s all cloaked in production that brings to mind the Jesus and Mary Chain. Merritt and Shirley Simms split vocals almost evenly with their contrasting styles: Merritt still delivers each word with a hopelessness made cheeky by his deep whirring voice; Simms sounds happy and young, and somehow just as mischievous and unctuous as Merritt.

Distortion sounds little like any other Magnetic Fields album, but its guts do feel familiar. What makes this a Magnetic Fields album is Merritt’s dense, brainy arrangements and hook-per-second writing style. Like some of his finer pop moments, Merritt makes every line seem memorable and every second seem thoughtful. The results, however, are different. Instead of mountains of strings, bleeping production or an elaborate lo-fi sound, Merritt drops buzzing, calculated guitars around every word, all drowning in the album’s namesake, never showing off or begging for attention. The real reason Distortion works is that it’s a pop record, one that’s cloaked in anything but pop elements. Again, contrasts.

New Merritt ponderers will most likely leave this record feeling uncertain about its maker’s direction and focus, while old fans should feel comforted, as their king of subtle experimentation and restless approach has struck again. He’s finally back from his long post-69 Love Songs struggle with mediocre genre benders, and with songs like “California Girls,” “Too Drunk to Dream” and “The Nun’s Litany” he’s delivered his most consistent record yet. In the spirit of both The The and Echo & the Bunnymen, Distortion is art-on-record, an unlikely mishmashing of ideas delivered ripe from both sides of the weirdo’s brain. Buzzing, fuzzy pop never sounded so brutal. (Greg Locke)

 Jay-Z: American Gangster: 3 1/2 Stars

There I was standing in the record store sometime late last year, trying to force myself to buy Sigur Ros’ just released album – knowing full well that it’d probably sound exactly like all their other stuff – when I spotted Jay-Z’s brand new album, American Gangster. For the first year since age 13 I’ve bought less than 10 hip-hop albums in a 12-month span. It’s not that I don’t keep an eye out for what’s going on; I just very rarely like what I hear anymore from the genre, be it commercial or underground. Seeing Jay-Z so shamelessly ape director Ridley Scott’s fine-enough film about the collaboration between real-life gangster Frank Lucas and police officer Richie Roberts that brought down over 100 drug-related criminals (including a good number of police officers) seemed a bit baffling to me, baffling enough to warrant a purchase. Why, I asked myself as I picked up the disc in the store, would Jay-Z, a rapper known for glorifying “the drug game,” celebrate an individual who ratted out so many people in “the game”? I had to find out.

Unfortunately, there aren’t really any deep hidden meanings in Gangster’s lyrics, Jay simply saw an early cut of the film a few weeks before it was set to hit theaters and all but ran to the studio to cash in on the obvious themes (read: power, drugs, violence, respect, machismo) of the topical film. When Jay’s classic debut, Reasonable Doubt, was released he boasted a fresh mix of artistic and business instincts. No more. Jay is now much more of a businessman. When he heard talk of a film that played through like “The Black Scarface,” he knew he had to watch it as soon as possible, secure the rights to name his album after it (as well as a slew of dialogue samples) and call up all his producer friends.

American Gangster, despite its instantly cheap history and phoned-in motives, is Jay’s proper return to form. Though the album features loads of guests (his girlfriend, Beyonce, gets the first proper vocals on the record) and played-out production, most of the songs roll easy down the hatch, some even prompting use of the “repeat” button. That said, this album employs nearly every cliché Jay’s lesser peers have been employing over the last few years: pointless guest appearances; an intro worth listening to exactly once; inconsistent production spread out over a slew of different producers with different sounds; needless use of the words “bonus tracks” listed before the album’s last two tracks; and, amongst a million other things, Scarface-inspired moodiness.

Since American Gangster was produced, written and put together so quickly, Jay didn’t have the usual grace period needed to focus on writing hook-heavy songs with compromised pop lyrics. Instead, we get a more natural Jay, one that is still generic in subject matter and style, but also better than anyone else who does what he does. Songs like “No Hook,” “Fallin,” “Sweet” and “Say Hello” bring to mind both the soulful moments of The Blueprint and the lyrically spontaneous highlights of Reasonable Doubt. Unfortunately, American Gangster just can’t stand next to those two classic albums, though it is tempting to call it Jay’s proper return to form, even if it is by way of regression. (Greg Locke)

1. Radiohead: In Rainbows
I liked Radiohead a whole lot in 1993 when I was in the eighth grade, so being assured by In Rainbows’ 10 tracks that it’s okay to still like the band of my youth (screw you, Nirvana) a whole lot as an adult capped my music-filled year off nicely. In Rainbows, the band’s seventh studio album, is their most mature batch of recordings yet; likewise, the way they handled the release of the album was sophisticated, so much so that you can expect the details of such to go down in music history books. (Singer Thom Yorke claims that they’ve made more money off of In Rainbows than everything else they’re released combined.) But in the case of this list, the money and hoopla are neither here nor there, it’s the music – and only the music – that earned In Rainbows the No. 1 spot on my list. I’m already nostalgic for the first time opener “15 Step” hit my ears; instantly more original in construction than anything on Hail to the Thief or Amnesiac, it marked the return of a band who many had recently started to think were out of grand ideas. Following such an amazing song can be tricky (I also remember the fearful and skeptical feelings of my aforementioned first listen), but with the guitar-heavy “Bodysnatchers,” Radiohead offer up their best song since “Idioteque.” “All I Need,” “Reckoner,” “Videotape” – they’re all good, and I could go on and on about why I think that, in sum, they make for the best record of the year. No need. Just know this: Radiohead have more ideas, and, below the mountain of media ruckus and against the naysayer’s cozy odds, the five brooding wimps from England put together another great album, one that cements them as the best (and most uncompromising) avant-garde band mainstream music has seen.

2. Ryan Adams: Easy Tiger
Just as sure as there is a mental age where pretentiousness becomes a passage to understanding, there’s also a time where it becomes, well, dreadfully pretentious. Ryan Adams might be the only person on the planet who has convinced me that he can do just about anything he wants if given some instruments and a studio or stage. Because of this simple fact, his incredibly up-front Easy Tiger stands out amongst the countless other great albums in his already busting catalog ‘o rock as a classic. Yes, it’s straight ahead – almost even to the point of being 70s pop/rock radio – but it’s also the most “repeat button-worthy” album I heard all year, an accomplishment not to be hastily overlooked. Stockpiled with more memorable lines, beautiful vocals and love-of-your-life melodies than anything Adams has done since Heartbreaker, Easy Tiger doesn’t sway and experiment like Panda Bear’s Person Pitch or clang and mystify like Menomena’s Friend and Foe (two highly acclaimed albums from 2007); no, this is a simple, timeless collection of songs that no one but Ryan Adams could write. Easy Tiger is built to be the kind of record you listen to not just at a certain stage of your life, but for the rest of your life. As the cheese balls like to say, this is “one for the ages,” a new classic for the post-pretentious rock n’ roll crowd.

3. The New Pornographers: Challengers
Against my better judgment (I’d traded in all of my New Pornographers records in 2006), I bought Challengers after reading an album review written by whatzup’s Derek Neff. As I recall, Neff didn’t like the album nearly as much as the Porno’s previous two efforts, but he did say that it was different. According to Neff, Challengers attempted to have some variety, rather than resting on the band’s genius knack for in-your-face sugary pop. Upon first listen I was happy to find that Neff’s assessment was both right and wrong: Challengers had five times the variety of the band’s other albums, but, at least in my opinion, it was also about 10 times as good. Though Dan “Destroyer” Bejar’s three offerings are effortlessly enjoyable (especially “Myriad Harbour,” one of 2007’s finest moments), it is resident pop genius Carl Newman’s nine songs – sometimes sung by Neko Case or newbie Kathryn Calder – that lead the way. While Bejar’s songs follow the theatrical route he’s long been building up to, Newman’s songs would most easily be classified as imaginative retro-pop. Yes, most of Newman’s offerings are big-hook pop songs, but the arrangements are Brian Wilson-worthy, at least as far as unpredictable inventiveness goes. That said, you don’t need a PhD in music history to enjoy the hooks and heart of Challengers. It’s pop music, enjoy it.

4. Magnolia Electric Co.: Nashville Moon
No tricks here – Magnolia Electric Co.’s Nashville Moon is torn from the gut of early-70s Neil Young, but with (thanks to living legend Steve Albini) much better production. It’s a dark, poetic, sturdy-as-hell, natural-sounding record that rewards with (and demands) repeat listens. It’s the album that should’ve made the world finally believe in the enduring genius of Magnolia’s brooding honcho, Jason Molina. But alas, almost no one heard Nashville Moon in 2007, as it was only issued as part of the very rare Sojourner box set. No matter your route, just be sure to listen to “No Moon on the Water” before you, like, die.

5. Okkervil River: The Stage Names
After listening to Okkervil River’s 2005 conceptual opus, Black Sheep Boy, over and over again for a few solid weeks I was convinced that they were destined to become the band I’d head into my 30s with. They’d next make an unthinkable album similar to the Flaming Lips’ Yoshimi that would change the world, I just knew it. Then came The Stage Names, the band’s by-far most orthodox (read: boring at first) album to date. Then it set in: The Stage Names isn’t about conceptual growth or mongo gestures; it’s about making the best batch of songs without hiding behind indie rock’s overused blanket of abstractness. The Stage Names, which comes armed with some of the year’s very best songs (”Unless It’s Kicks,” “A Hand to Take Hold of the Scene” and “A Girl in Port,” to name three) is an organically conceived indie rock album with not just a pinch of soul and swagger, but also all the usual off-kilterness the scene kids needs to feel special.

Honorabled mentions: Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga; Thunderhawk, Gravity Wins!; Low, Drums and Guns; Bill Callahan, Woke on a Whaleheart; The Black Lips, Good Bad Not Evil; LCD Soundsystem, Sound of Silver.

Basia Bulat: Oh, My Darling: 4 1/2 Stars

Joni Mitchell, heyday era (1970-75), is about as good as a singer/songwriter gets, especially considering the grace and staying power of her Blue and Court and Spark albums. As good as Neko Case, Cat Power, Fiona Apple, Tori Amos and other similar folk-y female popsters have been over the years, there hasn’t really been another Joni-level female folk album since The Hissing of Summer Lawns. Not to imply that Basia Bulat and her debut album, Oh, My Darling, are better than the Cases, Cats, Apples and Amoses out there, but Darling quite possibly is the closest thing the current generation has to its own Blue. 

Let’s get one thing straight before going any further: Case, Cat, Apple and Amos all have better albums than Darling, no doubt about that. That said, Darling is a better debut than any of the aforementioned artists managed, and probably a better debut than just about anyone of Bulat’s ilk since Joanna Newsom released The Milk-Eyed Mender. Thirteen organically produced and played pop songs are held together by Bulat’s deep but very feminine vocals, which at once quiver, fall and soar, sounding far too developed for anything on a debut record. Likewise, Darling’s compositions are very clever, sounding almost as if Bulat first recorded her acoustic guitar and vocal parts before heaping on layers of strings, harmonica, autoharp, ukulele, piano, flute and percussion after months of tinkering. It’s a cut-and-paste sounding folk record, one that is elegantly written at a level of maturity and sophistication rarely achieved by a 24 year old. 

Opening with the ukulele-driven, 72-second masterpiece “Before I Knew,” Bulat immediately sounds distinctive and exciting, though in a very modest, warm manner. Next up is “I Was a Daughter,” which opens with acoustic guitar, sparse piano licks and handclap percussion before exploding into a true orchestral epic, again held together only by Bulat’s remarkable, breathy vocals. Bulat released singles to radio, recorded videos and sold rights to her songs to television commercials in the year or so leading up to the U.S. release of Darling, an album that was long in the works. This means that – at least for folks who listen to KEXP, watch Volkswagon commercials or surf YouTube incessantly – that much of the material on Darling has likely already hit your eardrums a few times. 

The ballad-y, made-for-fall “Little Waltz” could be heard while watching a white VW drive through fall leaves; “In the Night,” a popular high-concept video, has been available for viewing on YouTube for a while now, looking almost like a long lost Michel Gondry video; “Snakes and Ladders” and “Little One,” both amazing and elaborately composed songs, have been running on college radio for a year or more now; and a number of Darling’s other tracks have had live performances posted on YouTube for some time now, as the album was released to the U.K. market 10 months earlier. 

The real surprise here is the versatility Bulat offers throughout the duration of her lean, mean record. No two songs sound too much alike, and every last one of ‘em arrives fully baked, no rookie missteps in sight. At 24, the Canadian-born Bulat has released a unique batch of songs that position her as a future star of the folk-pop genre. Mitchell released Ladies of the Canyon at 27 and Blue at 28, giving Bulat a few good years to come up with a recording that lives up to the promise of songs like “The Pilgriming Vine,” “In the Night” and “I Was a Daughter.” Fingers crossed, Bulat is the leader of the next generation of songwriters, female, Canadian, folk-y or otherwise. (Greg Locke)

ANOTHER DAY WITH STEPHEN 

I can with no trouble recall buying my first Pavement CD (the Shady Lane EP, age 19) and I’ll never misplace the memories of the first time I saw that band’s leading man, Stephen Malkmus, perform after his band broke up, guitar solos ringing through his shaggy mop-top as he ironically tore through solos behind his head. I was much younger then and, no matter how much I loved all my Malkmus-releated albums, figured I’d come across an endless supply of modern artists who would appeal to me with the power Stephen did and still does. Regular Ease readers no doubt know how much I appreciate guys like Jeff Tweedy, Ryan Adams, David Berman, Paul Westerberg, Will Oldham and the like, but, sadly, I’ve never quite found another Malkmus. Not even close, actually.

I write this week from a slightly frazzled, self-indulgent state, one that finds me topped with oily hair, an empty bank account, greasy road-food burning in my gut and oil-barrel bags under my eyes. It’s a boring story, one that might demand a little bit of modest spice. Said frazzled state began after receiving word that a number of my friends who had - like me - gone online weeks earlier to pre-order a copy of Malkmus’ fourth solo album, Real Emotional Trash, had received their CD. No CD for me, not yet. Following another disappointing visit from the postman this past Saturday, I decided to spend the next day in the car, driving to out-of-town stores in search of a copy of said album. Sounds nuts, right? After all, my journey to find an album that was to be officially released on Tuesday, March 4 took place on Sunday, March 2. And on top of that, Matador Records had sent me a CDR copy of the album weeks earlier (hence the wordy review on page 27 of this issue), and I still had a pre-ordered copy of the disc scheduled to eventually hit my mailbox.

 Am I nuts? Sure, always have been. Irresponsible, too, but only about things like this. Daydreams of going into a store and picking up and purchasing the official issue of an album I knew I’d be listening to and cherishing for years to come can make me forget just about everything. The simple thought of holding an official copy of the new Malkmus album in my crazy hands for the first time had me running to my car on Sunday morning, worn-out copy of Slanted and Enchanted under my arm. I was drowsy and not exactly sure where I was headed, but I had a hero waiting for me and at least six hours before 5 p.m., the time most small retail stores close on Sundays.

Also in tow was a bag of old CDs no store in town seemed interested in buying from me, a warm can of third-rate Diet Dr. Pepper, a few Kinks albums and a tattered road atlas. Highway food aside, it was a fun trip for the most part, one that was successful in some ways and revelatory in others. But more on that later; we have a story to finish. The second store I went to, lucky for me, had received copies of Malkmus’ latest effort two days earlier and, street date be damned, contentedly scattered them all throughout their store. This was the place. I took the 40 or so superfluous albums from my collection I’d brought with me to the counter and within 15 minutes was offered $60 worth of in-store credit for about 30 of them - not exactly the deal of a lifetime. Fine, I thought, but I had to at least use the remaining $47 of credit on albums I couldn’t easily get in Fort Wayne. I couldn’t find any copies of my sub-mission, the two-disc reissue of Whiskeytown’s Stranger’s Almanac (which was also set to be released two days later), so I settled for J. Tillman’s Minor Works, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy’s Wilding In the West and Flowers Forevers’ eponymous debut. Oh, and I also found a copy of Swell Maps’ debut, A Trip to Marineville, an album that was always said to be one of the chief influences on Pavement’s early work. Very fitting, considering the day I was having. Not a bad haul, I figured, knowing full well that only Trash would reach the player on my ride home.

About halfway through my trek back to Sox-Smith Manner I started wondering if what I’d just done was acceptable. At 28 years old do I still have entire days to throw away? Is it still acceptable to selfishly forget about your life for a short time so you can skip town to only possibly acquire an official copy of an album you’ve already heard 60 times just one day before you could find it at your local record shop? No, it’s not okay. Or at least it probably isn’t to most people. Some people like tattoos or birthing children or jewelry or hard drugs or cars; people “like me” like albums. Need albums. Little $12-$16 plastic discs full of sound. Real physical product, not downloadable ones and zeroes that will someday be lost when your hard drive kicks the bucket. Despite their low-dollar prices, I’d argue that I like buying new albums from my heroes just as much as a professional athlete enjoys flying across the country to look at an expensive piece of jewelry. Every bit as much as an aspiring businessman fawns over the idea of treating himself to higher grade business cards.

Back home, five or so Trash-filled hours later, I took a nap, woke up and realized that I still resemble the person I discovered I was just a few years earlier. I hadn’t given up on my dreams or cooled on my passions as I so feared I would. I was still getting paid to work with music and still kept up with new artists and albums as much as ever. Maybe I’d lost my edge in other ways, but I was st