1996 Retrospecticus
by Marc Hirsh
Blame this on George Makovic's Burger King Crown List and my history
reviewing CDs for Houston's Public News. I think 1996 was a bit lackluster
as far as music is concerned, as evidenced by the fact that my Ten Best
has only five albums in it. Could I come up with 10 albums that brought
me to my knees this year? I could not. I think the only one that would have
made this list in any other year would be...
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1) Semisonic, Great Divide (MCA). An album that claimed this spot
on my first hearing it in May. A very rare example of writing, performance
and production coming together in perfect harmony (pun intended). Dan Wilson's
bizarrely catchy slabs of power pop (running the gamut from faux '70s soul
to Smashing Pumpkins-style epics) expand on, rather than rip off, their
influences. Even an ostensible throwaway like "Falling" is crucial
to cleanse the palate before Wilson hands over vocal duties to bassist John
Munson (who redeems himself handily) for the gliding "In Another Life."
Throughout, Wilson keeps raising the stakes higher and higher with each
successive song. All this plus a title song that actually serves as the
album's centerpiece, cramming an entire album's worth of ideas into just
3 minutes. |
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2) Wilco, Being There (Sire). The most value you're going to get
from any band this (or any) year. Last year's A.M. was a lightweight,
if pleasant, album, which makes this stunner all the more surprising. Its
only flaw is that it climaxes too early (like, the first song). If Beggars
Banquet was the White Album, it would sound like this. |
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3) Aimee Mann, I'm With Stupid (DGC). Three years and one record
label later, and Aimee sounds a little worse for wear. Bad for her, good
for us. Abandoning the cohesive structure of her excellent solo debut "Whatever" in favor of a more
rambling mess of a collection of songs, Stupid is horribly flawed,
which only adds to its beauty. Featuring the best tough-vulnerable female
voice this side of Chrissie Hynde and once again showcasing Mann's post-Costello
wordplay and producer/guitarist/ex-paramour Jon Brion's multi-layered Rundgrenesque
guitar work, Stupid hurts, which is the point. |
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4) You Am I, Hi-Fi Way (Warner Bros.). Not as immediate as 1994's
sparky Sound As Ever, Hi-Fi took me three listens before it
sank in. Taking the sophomore slump as a chance to regroup and rethink,
this all-but-invisible Australian three-piece don't so much expand on their
earlier accomplishments as restate them more thoughtfully. Not so much grunge
as a postmodern Who, this is the band to watch as the millennium approaches.
Assuming they don't disintegrate first. |
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5) Too Much Joy, ...finally (Discovery). Punks in spirit always,
now almost punks in deed. Almost. Their weakest overall album since their
dreadful first, Green Eggs And Crack, has such a strong run of great
songs at both the beginning and the end that the 3-song slump in the midsection
comes as a crushing blow. Still, those duds are all that's keeping this
one from the number one spot, since the rest are some of the strongest songs
and, more importantly, performances the band's ever put on record. Also
responsible for the concert moment of the year, when, at this year's otherwise
numbingly dreadful BuzzFest in Houston, the band managed to turn a "special
ticket only" front section into an epic moshing sea of bodies 30 seconds
into their opening song. |
Other albums (to round out the 10, I guess) that make me happy include:
The Cardigans, First Band On The Moon; Cracker, The
Golden Age; the Freshmakers' Unreleased Snaketape; The Eels,
Beautiful Freak (which contained the best pure single, "Novocaine
For The Soul," of the year); That Thing You Do! soundtrack.
The problem with these, and the reason they're not actually on the list,
is that I don't hear them when I'm not listening to them.
The Better Late Than Never Award
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Showcasing an album that I really should have probably heard by now but
only came across this year. Many contenders, each eclipsing the last. Among
the final casualties lay Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited and Blondie's
Parallel Lines (albums which I expected to like a whole lot more
than I actually do), Love's Forever Changes and the first two Undertones
albums. The final winner, narrowly beating out Londonderry's favorite sons...
Trans-Europe Express by Kraftwerk. Normally the last to succumb to
mid-'70s German electro-wibbling, I'm as surprised as you. Not that there's
a heart beating beneath this robotic dance music (there's not) but that
I could be so captivated by an album this totally mechanical and sterile.
The first album in years that I listened to twice in one day, TEE has the
now-quaint notion that the world will go out with neither a bang nor a whimper
but with a beep. The apocalypse has never seemed so serene. As beautiful
as an ice sculpture and only a bit warmer. |
In other media, well, I didn't really read many new books this year,
which I blame on the massive time-suck of David Foster Wallace's fascinating
1000-pager Infinite Jest, which it took all of my energy not
to read again (and thus lose another 4 months of my life) immediately
upon finishing. Otherwise, I just read Stephen King's excellent Green
Mile serial and a lot of Ian Fleming. Coming up with a favorite movie
is going to be tough. Jerry Maguire? Excellent but (an alarming trend)
tainted by the previews and commercials spoiling what would have been one
of the film's best scenes by showing it completely out of context (plus
the kid was too eerily cute... too geometric, I think). Flirting With
Disaster? Too sloppy (though funny). Twister? It was the only
movie I saw twice in the theatres, but come on, really. Big Night?
Close. Very close. Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie? Sadly,
no. I'll probably break down and call it a draw between Fargo and
That Thing You Do!. That Thing! was easily the most fun I've
had at the movies this year, and thinking about it later I found little
clues to just how well-made it actually was. And Fargo was Fargo.
The Coen Brothers have made some underrated films (The Hudsucker Proxy)
and some overrated ones (Barton Fink), but this is the post-Raising
Arizona masterpiece we knew they'd make. Meanwhile, Independence
Day was the biggest piece of crap I've wasted $6.50 on this or any other
year. 1997 awaits.
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