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Album Ratings 97
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Last Active 12-11-17 10:45 pm
Joined 04-15-07

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Average Rating: 4.87
Rating Variance: 0.21
Objectivity Score: 23%
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5.0 classic
A Sunny Day in Glasgow Ashes Grammar
Air France No Way Down
Alvvays Antisocialites
Animal Collective Feels
Rich, complex, without genre. Compels me to camaraderie and solitude in equal measure; considers each state to be of equal importance. Truly progressive rock that spews bullshit like the human blood runs red with it. Oh, does it.
Animal Collective Centipede Hz
From behind clumps of trees in the distance a railway train came past, all the carriages were lit up, the windowpanes were certainly let down. One of us began to sing a popular catch, but we all felt like singing. We sang much faster than the train was going, we waved our arms because our voices were not enough, our voices rushed together in an avalanche of sound that did us good. When one joins in song with others it is like being drawn on by a fish hook.

So we sang, the forest behind us, for the ears of the distant travelers. The grownups were still awake in the village, the mothers were making down the beds for the night.

Our time was up. I kissed the one next to me, reached hands to the three nearest, and began to run home, none called me back. At the first crossroads where they could no longer see me I turned off and ran by the field paths into the forest again. I was making for that city in the south of which it was said in our village:

"There you'll find queer folk! Just think, they never sleep!"
"And why not?"
"Because they never get tired."
"And why not?"
"Because they're fools."
"Don't fools get tired?"
"How could fools get tired!"
An album ahead of its time by virtue of its tardiness. We are too late; nothing to do but wait for drone bombs, execution, hopelessness. Fuck to "4 Degrees," laugh at "Obama," consider yourself above it all; turn off the news. You're a piece of shit. ANOHNI is a piece of shit. Daniel Lopatin, I don't know, he probably sucks too. Hudson Mohawke can definitely get bent. A peculiar album where every song's a ballad without a single track functioning like much of anything, just all escalating synths and battering rams and pluvial music beds. Party like the doomsday clock's at 11:59.
Arca Xen
Arca Arca
Avey Tare Down There
I can see this one becoming misunderstood, and perhaps my praise too as misguided loyalty. But Avey Tare is intentionally squandering great work here, which is something we've seen him do before. I consider it murky brilliance, where Avey attempts to chronicle his inner psyche at the same time he attempts to elevate us, the audience, above it. Down There acts as a warning and an invitation: we can either watch thoughtfully, wary, from the tree limbs or delve headfirst into the roots. And let me tell you, it is a fucking party down here.
Avey Tare Eucalyptus
Beach House Depression Cherry
Boris Pink
Brian Eno Another Green World
Burial Untrue
Some classics are dependent on mood and place, sometimes even the time of the day they are played. Untrue is such an album. Burial splays his quickly written sophomore effort with the darkest shades of blues and greys, and swallows them whole in inky black. This is late-night drunk music, surely, or for taking the metro into the city, but what makes Untrue so vivid is its personality. Namely, that it has one. Even back when Burial's identity remained concealed, there came something desperate and longing from within the clatter. A human heart provided these tracks (dubstep, even, Untrue as the true gait of 2-step and UK garage music fused) and they ring as loud as its computer.
Clipse Hell Hath No Fury
Cut Copy January Tape
Cut Copy spent ten days recording this in-studio offshoot while piecing together their new record, and somehow scale the heights left behind by the ambient and trance giants to pull off... everything. Purists might rightly stick up their noses at every genre label the press release invokes (ambient tho?), but the end result is peerless in its consistency from the edge of trance and back. The one mix where lying in a hammock feels like the smoothest dance move.
Danny Brown XXX
Deerhunter Microcastle
Dizzee Rascal Boy In Da Corner
Earl Sweatshirt I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside
Fennesz Endless Summer
Fever Ray Plunge
Frank Ocean Blonde
This album made me gayer and I am better for it.
Fripp and Eno Evening Star
Gas Pop
Gas Narkopop
This feeling doesn't go away
I feel it moving through me
I want a love I had inside
Want to feel it moving through me
In dreams
I'm moving through heavy water
The love is enormous,
it's lifting me up
I'd rather be sleeping
I'd rather fall in to tidal waves
and go where the deepest currents go
George Clanton 100% Electronica
Geotic Abysma
House music drinking shroom tea.
Gorillaz Plastic Beach
Gospel The Moon Is a Dead World
Grimes Art Angels
Grizzly Bear Yellow House
Grouper A I A
Guided by Voices Bee Thousand
Harald Grosskopf Synthesist
Ian William Craig A Turn of Breath
Jai Paul Jai Paul
Jenny Hval Viscera
Jenny Hval Innocence Is Kinky
Jenny Hval Apocalypse, girl
More specific; more abstract. Incisive, intimate, a stronghold of femininity, and yet.
Jenny Hval Blood Bitch
Julia Holter Ekstasis
Julia Holter Have You In My Wilderness
Kendrick Lamar DAMN.
Like using a jackhammer to cut paper angels but somehow now it's a Renaissance painting.
Kendrick Lamar DAMN. Collector's Edition
King Krule The OOZ
Krallice Years Past Matter
Lorde Melodrama
Mariah Utakata no Hibi
Micachu and the Shapes Jewellery
Moonsorrow V: Havitetty
My Bloody Valentine Loveless
My Bloody Valentine m b v
Off Minor The Heat Death of the Universe
Oneohtrix Point Never R Plus Seven
Paavoharju Laulu Laakson Kukista
Panda Bear Person Pitch
Perfume Genius No Shape
Prefab Sprout Steve McQueen
Radiohead In Rainbows
The album to make a fan.
Shabazz Palaces Lese Majesty
Shugo Tokumaru Exit
Slint Spiderland
Sophie Product
Spiritualized Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space
Stars of the Lid And Their Refinement Of The Decline
Storm and Stress Under Thunder and Fluorescent Light
Everyone will sleep on this eternal and no amount of art-cool posturing or name-affiliations will drag Storm and Stress into
the 21st Century, but 'Under Thunder and Fluorescent Lights' remains a harrowing, incomparable, wholly listenable
experience. A vast departure from their debut not unlike the indies stepping into a major label, the distinction for Storm and
Stress is that they double down on atmospherics and write the free-jazz post-rock standard that no one (NO ONE) will ever
match, or probably even listen to.
Swans Soundtracks for the Blind
SZA Ctrl
Talk Talk Laughing Stock
Talk Talk Spirit of Eden
Teebs E S T A R A
E S T A R A might be more of the same, but Teebs is not.
The Incredible String Band The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter
The Knife Tomorrow, In a Year
To create Tomorrow, in a Year, three separate artists (The Knife, Planningtorock and Mt. Sims) came together to write an opera for the stage based on Charles Darwin's Origin of Species, working separately from the choreographers and creative designers and meeting together to create the final piece. Those outside of Europe can only sneak peeks of the finished production through clips online, but the magnitude of the piece is housed in this monolithic soundtrack. For its hour-plus running length, the opera singers wade through amorphous clatter, threatened by great swells of drones and noises so warped they sound as if they were programmed by animals. It ebbs and flows, methodically building toward a second act steeped in resplendent pop panache of such skill that one is best left to earn its wonders through the album's preceding (and far more challenging) act. The Knife have made a name for themselves by providing great electro-pop tunes that adorn gloom and repressed sexuality with an intoxicating responsibility, and here they take that energy and consider the birth of man as only computers and animals could tell it.
The National Alligator
The Wrens The Meadowlands
The Wrens evoke as many shades of anguish on their lone beacon of a post-millennium album as they do midwest rock
music, but what's notable about The Meadowlands is how it gives over to humour. From the iridescent “Happy” to the
woozy piano number that closes the album, The Wrens often crack the surface of their album with a loopy one-liner or the
odd garish stylistic choice, which seem to be the only ways this suffocating piece of mid-life crisis could be tolerable.
Nerves are frazzled from end to end, but not without the important caveat that the genre The Wrens dabble in is not merely
for drowning sorrows, but also for celebrating the moments in life before they take hairpin turns into catastrophe. Before
your girlfriend left you; before your sister stopped taking the time to call; before your favorite record curdles under your
fingers and the words poison your puny heart; sometime after, when you’re too drunk to remember the name of the bar.
And sometime much after that, when guilt has built a house, and you’re sitting on its goddamn porch recounting its
goddamn construction, cracking open the first beer of thirteen as nature sounds off about you, as you tell your sad story to
no one in particular but somehow speak directly into the inner ear canal of every over-educated graduate who hasn’t
moved beyond the thirteen months in their lives that time has already shoehorned into the past, ten years now, twenty
years, a wife and kid ago, a lifetime, and then another four years. You can cry, you can yell, you can create the millennium’s
heretofore crowning achievement in art about the malaise of aging, but most important of all, you might want to lean back
in your porch swing and laugh. ‘Cause this story gets pretty sad.
This Heat Deceit
Todd Rundgren A Wizard, A True Star
Towers Full Circle
Full Circle, in which Towers consider genre-bending metalcore as something to aspire to. Towers are not only successful, but should become the new standard. Leave any and all metalcore hang-ups at the door.
Unwound Leaves Turn Inside You
Vashti Bunyan Just Another Diamond Day
Sometimes the qualities that make an album good and pure become hard to quantify. One can only gesture to it and hope the message reads.
Why? Alopecia
Women Public Strain
I connect with the guitars on Public Strain more than any artist, lyric, or else.
Yellow Swans Going Places

4.5 superb
Animal Collective Meeting of the Waters
Baths Romaplasm
Y'all are basic straight motherfuckers and that's okay!
Burial Truant/Rough Sleeper
Music will always/never be better than this.
Burial Young Death/Nightmarket
Mount Kimbie Love What Survives
Shabazz Palaces Quazarz: Born On A Gangster Star
The National Sleep Well Beast
Vince Staples Big Fish Theory

4.0 excellent
Krallice Loüm
Mounika How Are You?
A feeling of contentment so pure and fulfilling that it can only bleed into melancholy. Nothing gold can stay, but neither does winter.
Shabazz Palaces Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines
Ulver The Assassination of Julius Caesar
I felt like I was listening to a post-punk playlist at a gay bar.

1.0 awful
Sufjan Stevens Carrie and Lowell

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