Friday, February 03, 2006

Ok, now I've really botched this whole year end list thing. Damn you blogpsot, why must you so cruelly track my past mistakes. Now I know how the Bush administration feels. Seriously, why should the public be aware of my flubs and thus hold me accountable for them? It's clearly not fair.
Ok, enough about how life isn't fair, I think the spot vacated on the list by Leviathan could potentially be filled by either Hair Police's Constantly Terrified or something by Burning Star Core, like The Very Heart of the World or Mes Soldats Stupides : 96-04.
In the wake of Wolf Eyes' Burned Mind, HP easily dodge also-ran status with a smoldering set of free rock drenched in overwhelming, putrid noise. This is another one of those definitive statement things: four tracks, each cleaving it's own chunk out of your skull, so once the blood hits your eyes, it's already too late. There was an article in Swingset where one of them, I think it was Connelly, said he liked the thought of someone picking up their album in the future and thinking it represented our time. It's an admirable intent, but somewhat flawed thinking. If our time really is as scary and ugly as Hair Police make it seem (and it could be), there won't be anyone in the future to hear it.
Burning Star Core is a name I'd been seeing around in all the right places, but never thought to take the dive before the recent massive review treatment in The Wire. I can't really get mad at myself, keeping up with the amount of artists that get praised in the name of the new weird whatever is fucking impossible (at least without broadband. Come back, broadband.), but C. Spencer Yeh's brainchild is so far up my alley, it's retarded. BxC makes me think of Birchville Cat Motel's immense drone vistas, except by way of Tony Conrad's harsh minimalism and American noise's free-for-all, so, like BCM, he can emit heart-rending beauty without anyone being able to call him a pussy. White hot nuggets of melody set amidst hail storms of noise, rough hewn and powerful, with several detours to a little town called Whatthefuck. Another relentless collaborator, he often plays with Hair Police's Robert Beatty and Trevor Tremaine as his backing band. Perhaps the true lesson of this top ten list is to make your scene as incestuous as possible. All these links, where does it end?
That's it, top twelve, but of the last two years. Make it top twenty. Everybody's in, music rules, fuck yeah.


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