ON THE AVENUES: The musical year 2011, Part Two.

ON THE AVENUES: The musical year 2011, Part Two.

A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.

(Part one here)

Expanding one’s horizons does not preclude rediscovering old ones, or uncovering music previously ignored.

Appropriately, 2011 was the year I finally “got” Rush, the venerable Canadian trio that we saw perform at Louisville’s Yum Center in April. Where once there were two Rush CDs on the shelf, there now are 14. Belatedly, I see Rush’s music as both rocking and intelligent … and jeez, the dude sure can play the drums.

In early spring, a reading of Keith Richards’ rollicking autobiography prompted a brief revival of the Rolling Stones oeuvre, alongside the dissipated guitarist’s soulful solo recordings.

Similarly, a full-fledged re-examination of Pearl Jam’s body of work ensued after viewing Cameron Crowe’s hagiographic 20th anniversary rockumentary. While I hadn’t forgotten the group’s remarkable 1994 live performance backing Neil Young on his classic "Rockin’ in the Free World", their subsequent collaboration on Mirror Ball came out of the sleeve for the first time in a decade or longer, and impressed.

The year concluded with bundles of reissued joy: National Treasures: The Complete Singles, by Manic Street Preachers, and The Smiths Complete box set. These followed on the heels of U2’s remastered Achtung Baby; I opted for the bare bones version, not the budget-breaker with Bono’s facsimile sunglasses included as a bonus.

As for new releases I enjoyed this year, following is a semi-chronological rendering.

Guster … Easy Wonderful
Neon Trees … Habits
Two late breaking releases from 2010 kicked off my year. Guster has been around a while, and plays lighter, melodic adult contemporary fare. Neon Trees deals in a heavier brand of pop/rock, with a female drummer from New Albany and a big break opening shows for the Killers.

Twilight Singers … Dynamite Steps
Greg Dulli’s band Afghan Whigs were a 1990’s staple of mine, but even though – perhaps because – his bluesy voice seems fairly shredded at this point, the recurring themes of sex, drugs, sex, world-weariness, sex and pervasive, melancholic menace are newly compelling. While unnecessary, these days Dulli even allows an occasional ray of lyrical sunshine to peek through the angst. Just ignore it.

Decemberists … The King Is Dead
While certainly prolific, Decemberists had not previously captured my fancy, but plenty of airplay on 91.9 WFPK sold this early 2011 release, and also sent me into the back catalogue for a refresher course. Fewer, lengthier and more complex songs, plenty of the melodic hooks necessary to hold my attention, and a handful of Peter Buck guitar vignettes drew unrepentant R.E.M. comparisons -- perhaps a precursor of the latter’s overdue demise later in the year? Honestly, Collapse into Now did very little for me.

Duran Duran … All You Need Is Now
At long last, a producer (Mark Ronson) got through to the four remaining original members of Duran Duran and convinced them to commit a truly revolutionary act: Scrap the post-comeback, sub-par dance-inflected crappola, and let the band be gloriously pop again. The result is nothing short of miraculous: A latter-day sequel to the seminal 1980’s albums Rio and Seven the Ragged Tiger.

Gomez … Whatever’s On Your Mind
Ben Ottewell … Shapes and Shadows
Oddly, Ottewell’s solo album and the new Gomez collective effort both came out in the year’s first half. In basketball, that’s called bad spacing. For the uninitiated, Ottewell is one of three singers in Gomez, blessed with a distinctive voice, and who seems increasingly inclined toward ballads. These fill his solo album and are of quality, if not all exactly memorable. A handful of them also take pride of place on the more up-tempo Gomez disc, alongside some strong pieces featuring Ian Ball.

Arctic Monkeys … Suck It and See
Elbow … Build A Rocket Boys!
Radiohead … The King of Limbs
These three groups from England are great favorites. They have little in common in terms of sound, instead being united in my mind by lyrical excellence. The Arctic Monkeys conquered the UK in 2006, and only now have reached their mid-twenties, with a new set of songs that are unadorned, tight and focused. In the follow-up to its 2008 breakthrough The Seldom Seen Kid, Elbow introspectively channels The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society through a halcyon sieve for a new, fresher-faced demographic. Then there’s Radiohead, its members seemingly less than the sum of their components. Is there any reason for Thom Yorke not to be the voice of the Euro’s collapse?

Beady Eye … Different Gear, Still Speeding
Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds
Oasis broke out in 1993, broke down in the early 2000’s, and broke up in 2009. With the release of their inaugural “separate” projects, the brothers Gallagher confirmed exactly what Oasis fans suspected all along: Pick the best songs off each, and voila -- it’s a brand new Oasis album for 2011! Liam and the Oasis remnants rock harder; Noel has more melodic, far better songs … like we didn’t already know that.

Death Cab for Cutie … Codes and Keys
The CD was purchased on a whim to test the Crown Vic’s new minimalist audio system, and subsequently went on heavy rotation during July. Alternative pop with few guitars, sometimes chirpy, other times darker. Atmospheric, and suggesting that it’s time to hear what I’ve missed.

Red Hot Chili Peppers … I’m With You
A release filled with solid songs, thunderous instrumentation, periodically ludicrous lyrics and a quality roughly hinting at approaching maturity, although not just yet. “Brendan’s Death Song”, a tribute to one of the band’s early mentors, will now be standard listening for me in all funereal times. The song is a lamentation-turned-dirge, with a rousing, rocking conclusion.

My Morning Jacket … Circuital
After being only vaguely familiar with MMJ’s youthful Louisville period, I’ve gotten steadily more interested as the band has progressed. The profuse musical influences are as encyclopedic as ever, and it strikes this observer that we’re about to enter a fertile period in which Jim James functions at the peak of his powers.

Liam Finn … FOMO
Pajama Club (eponymous)
Shall we speak of familial musical talent? Bored in New Zealand, papa Neil and his wife Sharon decide to take up drums and bass, respectively, for the first time ever. They both sing, of course, and two other local musicians provide largely guitar-less electronic accompaniment to a series of pop numbers that benefit from the elder Finn’s congenital inability to write a bad song. Meanwhile, son Liam has a prime gig opening for Eddie Vedder’s ukulele shows, when not playing and recording killer tunes of his own – assuredly different from those penned by Neil and Uncle Tim, and yet retaining the quirk Finn family stamp.

Coldplay … Mylo Xyloto
These lads always have interested me, and perhaps alone among my peers, I fully appreciate Chris Martin’s pop perspective, oft repeated in interviews, that if given a choice, he always chooses the hook. However, his band now has arrived at the growth stage of importing someone called Rhianna (presumably a famous person – was she on American Idol or something?) to contribute a scant few lines to a bubbly song destined for I-pods in high schools everywhere across the nation. On the strength of a few melodies alone, this album made the usual impression despite gritted teeth, but I can feel my interest waning. Perhaps Justin Bieber can guest on the next platter?

Wild Beasts … Smother
One usually doesn’t see the words “hypnotic” and “falsetto” in a non-ironic sense, but they’re merited when considering this youthful band from obscure Cumbria. The music remains complex and theatrical, and artistic reach now is matching grasp, with an excess of overt sensuality that will envelop you if you let it.

Booker T. Jones … The Road from Memphis
Older readers will recall Booker T. and the MGs, the incredible and integrated (with Steve Cropper and Duck Dunn) house band at Stax during the record label’s heyday a million years ago. Their first hit (“Green Onions,” anyone?) came when they were in their teens and I was two. While The Road from Memphis is uneven, the instrumentals are stellar, and the blue-eyed soul of “Progress” with Jim James on vocals) is worth the price of admission.

My rock/pop songs of the year for 2011:

Neon Trees: “Animal”
Arctic Monkeys: “She’s Thunderstorms”
Fleet Foxes: “Helplessness Blues”
Decemberists: “Rox in the Box”
Twilight Singers: “On the Corner”
Duran Duran: “Leave a Light On”
Liam Finn: “Cold Feet”
Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds: “If I Had A Gun”
Booker T. Jones: “Progress” (with Jim James)
Gomez: “Our Goodbye”
Ry Cooder: “No Banker Left Behind”
Red Hot Chili Peppers: “Brendan’s Death Song”
Bon Iver: “Holocene”
The Feeling: “Say No”

Postscript: Yes, I realize there are no female singers or acts listed herein. The omission reflects “as the cookie crumbles,” not any variety of overt sexism. I tried to like Feist, and probably would have listed Adele’s 21, if not for the subsequent tour rider fiasco in which the British singer’s camp stupidly denigrated North American beers she/they have not ever tasted. Roger freely espouses ideology, and Adele suffers accordingly. So be it, babe.