ON THE AVENUES: My musical year in 2013.

ON THE AVENUES: My musical year in 2013.

A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.

Verily, as cultural markers go, few are as personalized as one’s choice of music. As such, the inescapable verdict of 2011 and 2012 is repeated in spades in 2013: My sell-by date for musical awareness has long since expired.

Taking into account multiple “best of 2013” collections of music perused on-line, my familiarity has extended to as few as one (often none) of every ten selections cited. In terms of chronology, I’ve effectively pole-vaulted the shark. I’m an old fogey, and while the kids may well be alright, their musical tastes utterly elude me.

So be it. I remain a joyful musical has-been, and shall proceed into the cruel gloaming with shoulders a-shrugging, expounding the freedom to dial back my consciousness to big bands, classical and world music as the mood strikes me – and it very often does. Music of all eras and genres plays constantly inside my cranium, and it has been so for as long as I can remember. When it ceases to be audible, it will mean I’m dying, so by all means, let’s keep the music playing.

Remember, I’m not attempting a dissertation on the most important or “the best” music of 2013. I am no musicologist. I don’t know Kanye West from Miley Cyrus. Taylor Swift might as well be a brand of lunch meat, and Mumford & Sons a sitcom about a junk dealer. Quite frankly, there are more important things to occupy my time.

In the end, it’s purely a random process. I’m all about tunes and songs. Ear worms comprise my criteria. They stick or they don’t, and if they can be whistled whilst strolling past Bill Allen’s beautifully painted rubble pile on Main Street, it’s a win. Humans able to carry a tune without the aid of electronic gimmickry matter, too, and albums are my thing, not random collections on auto shuffle.

Let’s begin with Band of the Year.

It’s Houndmouth. New Albany lives vicariously through these four personable and talented musicians, who are achieving what I thought was impossible: Compelling me to listen to what I’m guessing is still referred to as “roots” music. The members of Houndmouth are skillful beyond their years, and there’s a chemistry – an intangible little something – that we all hope lifts up Houndmouth to bigger and better things.

Concert of the Year: (Half) The Who at Yum Center, performing Quadrophenia in its entirety. I wrote about it here, here and here. Houndmouth at Iroquois Amphitheater in April comes next.

Now, the main event; my “Top Twenty” album releases in 2013 are as follows.

20 David Bowie … The Next Day
19 Arcade Fire … Reflektor
18 Franz Ferdinand … Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action
17 Glasvegas … Later -- When the TV Turns to Static
16 Yeah Yeah Yeahs … Mosquito

There’s a major delineation between 16-20 and the remainder of the list. Above are five albums that I enjoyed and might yet explode for me with further listening. However, they did not penetrate my defenses in quite the way the next 15 managed.

15 Nine Inch Nails … Hesitation Marks
When Bill Clinton was president, Nine Inch Nails provided an unexpected soundtrack to one of my most chaotic personal periods. Hesitation Marks doesn’t sound like vintage NIN; it sounds like the hypnotic commentary of someone who survived considerable weirdness, and I can relate to that.

14 The Feeling … Boy Cried Wolf
One catchy Britpop song after another, but unfortunately, every single one of them finds a way to address the collapse of the singer/lyricist’s relationship. Loving the tunes, I find myself wishing the words would just go away.

13 Imagine Dragons … Night Visions
The group’s strength is a diverse sound; from song to song, it doesn’t seem like the same band. Then you realize that each song was recorded for a different television commercial, and this suggests caution. Enjoy … but keep a respectful distance. How many Mormon bands (Neon Trees is the other) can an atheist like me enjoy without guilt?

12 Psychic Friend … My Rocks Are Dreams
Geeky piano-driven pop by a quasi-band that doesn’t even have a Wikipedia entry. One of my single biggest surprises of the year.

11 Foals … Holy Fire
It’s a British group, somewhere in the vicinity of Kasabian and Bloc Party. Lyrically, the album isn’t strong, but I quite enjoy the anthemic song structures … and there are guitars galore! Rock lives. Hallelujah.

10 Elton John … The Diving Board
Captain Fantastic is having a wonderful late career run: Five worthy albums over a dozen or so years, and a powerful return to the sound that made albums like Tumbleweed Connection so essential back in the day. There’s even a song about Oscar Wilde, although my favorite is "Oceans Away."

9 The 1975 … The 1975
I’m clueless in describing why I might embrace this Manchester band’s aura, but I know I’ll keep listening to it. It is distinct and defies classification, striking me as an amalgam of late 80s and early 90s radio pop, when there still was something like “radio pop.” There are synths, guitars, soul and rhythms suitable for dancing, if I ever choose to spill beer that way … and I do not.

8 Arctic Monkeys … AM
My, how these youngsters are evolving. Heavy bass, guitar solos, footstompin’ music, yet retaining the band’s trademark lyrical cleverness and sense of ironic style.

7 Pearl Jam … Lightning Bolt
Others may lament aging rock heroes from youth, but never me. Evidently, Pearl Jam always wanted to be professional, working musicians, and shouldn’t every generation aspire to craftsmanship like this? What’s more, there is no loss of sincerity; witness “Sirens,” a superb ballad. We’re better that Pearl Jam rocks among us.

6 Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds … Push the Sky Away
Nick Cave and the dark side of life go together like gin and tonic. I was expecting the cynical snarl, the familiar libidinous compulsions and propensity to squalor, and instead was offered tired reflection – plenty of jaundice, but very weary, and with a subtle, nuanced soundscape in support. Memorable stuff.

5 Manic Street Preachers … Rewind the Film
I cannot not like these guys, even when they drop an album that is primarily acoustic, occasionally folky, bizarrely whimsical and with whole songs performed by guest singers. It doesn’t matter. The passion and exuberance are undiminished. My beloved Manics; if only I might be Welsh.

4 Johnny Marr … The Messenger
Lyrically, it’s a muddle, and Marr’s voice may never be ready for prime time. However, all is forgiven. The songs are muscular and vibe-laden; much stylistic ground is covered, and the mastermind’s guitar goes everywhere and does everything. Ye Gods, a living, breathing rock and roll record. I’m glad it’s still possible.

3 Suede … Bloodsports
I was only a casual fan in Suede’s original 1990s incarnation. The band’s newest album displays maturity and adept songcraft. One reviewer referred to it as elegant melancholy; toss in some romantic leanings, and what comes out is both catchy and sophisticated.

2 Paramore … Paramore
This isn’t a debut album, although it might as well have been for me. I bought it on a whim, and was rewarded with tunes I’d still be hearing in my sleep at night. The singer is an impossibly youthful Mississippian with a gigantic, versatile voice and pop hooks running through her veins. Some songs are punkish, others accompanied by ukulele, and “Ain’t It Fun” is a gospel-tinged definitive triumph. Almost my number one.

1 Deep Purple … Now What?!
My Top Twenty is a nice mix of old and new, although surely eyebrows will be raised at the choice of Deep Purple as the top album in my musical year 2013. If it’s any consolation, I wasn’t expecting it either.

Chronology is a bizarre concept. If you’d have informed me back in ’73 that four decades hence, both Black Sabbath and Deep Purple would release new albums within months of each other in spite of being populated primarily by senior citizens, I’d have been unable to concentrate long enough to calculate my own age after 40 celestial orbits, much less determine how old it would make my junior high musical heroes.

Here we are; 40 years have passed, and it stands to reason: If rock ‘n’ roll once pondered dying before it gets old, it must be allowed a measure of introspection upon discovering, perhaps with amazement, that it had in fact succeeding at aging.

Black Sabbath’s 2013 reunion release didn’t address any such musings. The Stones don’t bother, either; some might say the better for it. Deep Purple’s Now What?! inexplicably makes the effort, and it is an impressive contemplation, lighter on the boogie and pyrotechnics, and heavier on the prog. It is a veritable concept album from grimly determined road warriors who stubbornly continue to make new music that embodies all of the band’s different eras and members. There’s even a tip of the hat to Aaron Copland.

After all, Deep Purple has been around for so very long that its fans refer to the various chronological groupings of member musicians as Mach I, II, and so on, all the way up to today’s VIII. No original band member remains aboard save for drummer Ian Paice; keyboardist Jon Lord retired from Deep Purple years before dying in 2012, and guitar virtuoso Ritchie Blackmore quit in 1993. The current lineup has made three albums together, and I’d gladly pay good money to watch them perform songs off these alone, even to the exclusion of the 1970s material for which the group is justly famed.

Leader Ian Gillan’s voice is diminished, but it continues to be immediately recognizable. He knows how to use it. Steve Morse’s endlessly inventive guitar can be reminiscent of Blackmore, while also recalling the jazzy virtuosity of Tommy Bolin, who was a member of Mach IV (I think) prior to dying tragically young. Veteran keyboardist Don Airey admirably honors the memory of Lord, and the rhythm section of Paice and bassist Roger Glover could not be more solid.

The album’s opening song observes that time doesn’t matter, but it’s all we have, and the penultimate cut closes the loop: Here we are, with all the time in the world. It’s the most organ-heavy Deep Purple album in ages, and as such, recalls the band’s heyday, when the interplay between Lord and Blackmore made for classic riffs and jams. In some strange way, a strikingly focused album like this provides justification for my longtime allegiance as a fan, as well as continued hope for evolution even at this late date.

Growth and evolution in rock and roll, a half-century later. It suits me. Give it a listen, and thanks for reading.