Today we’re taking a quick look at Yeah Yeah Yeahs self-titled EP.
Yeah Yeah Yeah’s self-titled, 5-song EP was self-released on their own Shifty label in 2001.
Their decidedly garage-punk sound featured guitarist Nick Zinner, drummer Brian Chase, and no bassist. No matter; even in these early days, everything orbits around frontwoman Karen O. Her vocals are hard to pin down– she coos one minute, screams the next (see also: the entire chorus of “Art Star”), and occasionally works in a sort of disaffected monotone
The synths and more polished sound would come in time, but here they’re still incubating, and it’s very much rough around the edges. Whether that was because they were still finding their legs or an intentional aesthetic choice, the end run is the same. Nick Zinner’s riffs do a lot of weight-bearing. They’re basic, but that’s all that was called for here.
The first thing we hear is Karen O repeating “the bigger, the better” on “Bang.” Signing to a major… Fever to Tell (or It’s Blitz!- whichever’s your fave)…a bazillion kids being introduced to “Maps” by whoever picked it while playing Rock Band and then being bewildered by the rest of their catalog…and so on. That would all come in time.
But it all starts here in peak “Meet me in the bathroom” New York… You don’t need to know this is their first EP to know it’s some of their earliest work. And like anything, if you stare too long or overthink it, you can find nits to pick. But it’s ‘01 in the hippest quarters of NYC. Who tf has time for that?!
This is up against Lightning Bolt’s Ride The Skies, and I gotta tell ya, I’m really struggling to reach for positives here. I know there’re plenty of noise rock people out there, but this is not my tribe. Nothing wrong with that, of course. We like what we like! But god damn this whole thing felt like a test. It probably didn’t help that I was listening at work. At any given time I have 6 monitors, two radios, a teletype printer, and about 30 tabs open, and it can feel like what this record sounds like.
There’s a spot on “The Faire Folk” where I thought the noodling was reminiscent of AC/DC’s riff on AC/DC’s Thunderstruck. That was about all I could salvage from this.
Bottom Line: Karen O & co for the W.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!
Cover art courtesy of Sympathy For the record Industry
Good morning! Today we’re taking a quick look at The White Stripes’ White Blood Cells
I catch myself whenever I hear Seven Nation Army ring out from the soccer stand. What a song to co-opt! How odd that a band that’s not exactly obsessed with fame still has 1000s of people singing that song 20+ years on. Is there anyone else in that rarified air? My bemusement aside, Elephant is a solid record. How so much sound can come from two people is beyond me, but here we are. Other than some backing vocals, it really is just the two of them. Meg White’s drumming is simple (and simple is never easy), and Jack White’s guitar (and piano) take us from soccer stand fodder to swamp flats on tracks like “I Want to be the Boy to Warm Your Mother’s Heart.” It’s a no-skips record, even if not everything would sound good being yelled from a terrace.
If Elephant is what put the duo on the map, White Blood Cells is what lays the groundwork. I can almost guarantee at some point today someone will work “masterpiece” into the discourse or refer to it as art. The latter is true- all music is art. The former? Mmmm…I don’t know.
Fair play to “Fell In Love with a Girl “; it’s one of the best singles we’ve come across in Round 1. It’s loud, euphoric, and the kind of messy that says, “I want you to think this didn’t take any effort, but we spent days making it that way.” That sort of disheveled sound taps the same roots that DBT’s Southern Rock Opera did earlier in the week, as well as the likes of MC5 (which, I mean, sure. The White Stripes are from Detroit after all.)
Contrived or not, that simplicity works here—and as mentioned above— simple is never easy. Ask your favorite drummer. As a reformed one myself, I never miss a chance to defend Meg White from people that say “she’s not that good.” First, she’s more talented than 99.99999% of the people that say this, and second, see above. Playing a rudimentary style is easy…for about a minute. Doing it consistently and in a way that matches Jack White’s all-over-the-place stylings is anything but.
Did people do this with VU’s Moe Tucker? Maybe, but I doubt it. Look, I can be as snarky as anyone, but the boo boys can fuck off into the sun with all that.
(Exhale)
The sneering hipster take from Serious Music People ™ is that the basic, stripped-down style is a deficit. Really, it’s their superpower. Sometimes you just want some teeth and something that’s unapologetically loud…. even tracks like “I’m Finding It Harder to Be a Gentleman” and “The Same Boy You’ve Always Known” both of which which, I guess, count as slower tracks here, still have a little intentional grit and edge to ‘em. “We’re Going to Be Friends” is a bit too twee for this record, but people love it, so (Kanye shrug).
This band has always been polarizing, mostly, I think, because their records bring out the worst in the Rock Guy™ and Hipster tribes. So be it. In the meantime, with its mix of blues-y tracks and face melters, White Blood Cells will still be a punchy record that locked in the pair’s style.
Bottom Line: This is the #3 seed in the tourney, and I can’t see it slowing down anytime before Round 4 where it’ll likely face off against Kylie Minogue. Today it’s up against Squarepusher, who seem like almost an afterthought in comparison. Took the safe bet on this one; my bracket pick and vote will be for White Blood Cells.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a quick look at Ladytron’s 604 as it faces off against At Dawn by My Morning Jacket.
There was a time when I would buy records based solely on the label. Dischord never missed. 4AD? Odds were high you’d love what they were issuing. K Records? Whether or not it matched my tastes was up for grabs, but you could bank on it being something quirky, and that screamed “Olympia.” Wax Trax! was the gift that kept on giving for a kid who was both into hardcore and synth pop. The late ’80s and early ’90s were wildly dissonant for me musically. Nettwerk was right there too, with offerings sometimes less for the dance floor, more toward the after-after-after party. I was always happy to take a flyer on these types of records, even if I didn’t bat 1.000.
Seeing Ladytron’s 604 was on Nettwerk, I was surprised I’d missed them. Turns out that just the reissue was on the label, but that doesn’t explain how I’d missed the band entirely. I guess by ’01 I’d tuned everything out, even stalwart genres like synthpop.
Reading up a bit, I kept seeing “electroclash” tossed around, and maybe it’s just me, but I’m not seeing it. What I am seeing is a band whose members 110% have a Kraftwerk record or two in their collection. Stereolab as well, right down to the dueling female vocalists—and stylings—in Mira Aroyo and Helen Marnie. They’re cooler than you, but don’t flaunt it. The sort of icy personality that would also definitely let you bum a dart. Tracks like “CSKA Sofia” are a bit of spacy noodling, but “Paco!” is pure uncut new wave, and I’m here for it. You could’ve told me this was released in ’89, and I would’ve believed you. It’s the sort of thing I spent a lot of time listening to while riding the bus downtown to places like Dudley’s (RIP) to pick up some import or another. Same story with Playgirl and Discotraxx.
In fact, I could swear I’ve heard these all before. They’re just vaguely familiar enough to convince me I have, even though I know otherwise.
At 16 tracks, it’s a bit too long. There’s an incredible 10–11 track record in here. Some of the padding feels like a mandate to flesh out the song count to “fill” the CD (were we still doing this in ’01? I can’t see any other reason why “Laughing Cavalier” made the cut.), but the good far outweighs the bad.
I’m bummed I missed this before, but I’m happy to have found it as part of this challenge. This is one I’ll definitely be returning to.
I can tell you that had I heard My Morning Jacket’s At Dawn in 2001, I would’ve had no time for it. I had no taste for this sort of woozy Americana jam-band stuff. Times change. It’s not bad! “Lowdown” reminded me of those slow summer mornings where it’s already humid, but the searing heat hasn’t yet kicked in. If I had a front porch, I’d sit out there and listen to this sort of thing while watching the world go by. “Xmas Curtain” has a nice slide guitar (or steel pedal, who knows?) that, in ’01, would’ve had me spraining my finger by smashing the fast-forward button. 25 years on, and I find that sort of thing endearing… in limited doses. It works here.
Similar to 604, there is a 10-track “10” in here somewhere. A couple of tracks went straight onto my playlists, a few were objectively pleasant— if not for me—and a couple left me shaking my head. Put your lighters down, this is not a ballad band. I will be fine never hearing “If It Smashes Down” or “I Needed It Most” again. I would’ve scotched this in a hot second 25 years ago, and almost did just now. Sorry, not sorry. Tracks like the aforementioned “Lowdown” and “Just Because I Do” are what they do best.
Bottom Line: So! We’ve got two wildly different new-to-me records whose only common ground was the year of release. On paper, this should be a lock for Ladytron. Once a synth kid, always a synth kid. But My Morning Jacket was better than I was expecting. If I’m honest, I’d be okay with either of these going through to Round 2. We could do worse.
Looking at my bracket, I have Ladytron pegged as winning Round 1. Apparently, I’d already taken a flyer on 604. Hopefully it pays off.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at R.E.M.’s 2001 LP, Reveal.
Sometime ago, I raised some eyebrows not by declaring that Document was R.E.M.’s best record (a relatively safe pick, tbh), but by ranking Out of Time so high and slotting in AFTP so low at 9th.
There were a couple of caveats and carve-outs (it’s my list!). First, Up punches above its weight for the simple reason that no other song so perfectly describes the feel of an airport at 03:30 AM as Airportman does. This is a side of travel few see, but one that’s been my world for most of my adult life.
Second—and I think more relevant here—REM’s discography can be broken into three distinct eras, and the order you slot these records in depends a lot on which one your on-ramp was in. For me, this was Green and Eponymous. The latter is a comp, but there’s a very real calculus behind why the former sits at #5 for me.
I also feel like the post-Bill Berry years are a sort of denouement for the band. If the cut-out bins were anything to go by, this was the era that many listeners passed on. It certainly was for me, though YMMV.
Really, I think the one thing most fans can agree on is that Around the Sun has a lock on last place. Pretty much everything else is up for grabs.
That said, something has to come in next to last, and up until now, that something for me has usually been Reveal.
By this point, I’d kind of checked out. I’d still give any new release at least a cursory glance, but I was perfectly happy to stay behind, enjoying Green, Out of Time, and even Monster. Up was interesting- an appreciation that grew over time, but Reveal passed me by entirely. Knowing me, I probably dismissed it out of hand. No Bill Berry? No, thank you. Never mind the reasons behind his (very amicable and very necessary) reasons for leaving. I could be pretentious that way—not unlike my gatekeeping ancestors who felt the same way for anything post-IRS. Really, I think it was 10 years too early for me. I wasn’t ready.
Listening again, I’m surprised at how solid the first three tracks are. I’ve long held a soft spot for “All the Way to Reno (You’re Gonna Be a Star)” but “The Lifting” is a lot better than I’d remebered. It’s a harkening back to something closer to their earlier sound; almost an antidote to the way Up left off. Maybe a reminder to all of us that 3/4s of the band we grew up on was still there/ Maybe it was a reminder to themselves.
“Disappear” is a bit of a dirge, which…ok. I mean, I know that plays with a huge part of the fan base, but I prefer my R.E.M. a little more jangly, thankyouverymuch. Ditto “Saturn Return.” “Beat A Drum” pulls things up a bit and reminds me of the Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys. Not my bag, but it’s objectively pleasant.
“Imitation of Life” was the “big” single of the album, and its catchiness and hook make a solid case for why it deserved to be. The video reminds me of Weezer’s “Island in the Sun” with trippy effects. Actually, a lot of videos from this era went all in on this motif. Were we into this back in the day? These didn’t look like any parties I was going to, I’ll tell you that for free. And I like the wistful vibe that closer “Beachball” sends us out on.
As noted, Up has long punched above its weight thanks to Airportman. That’s an all-timer for extremely niche reasons, but Reveal took that same nose for experimentation and pulled it into a much sharper focus.
Going in, I wasn’t really sure what I was gonna get. Time can be kind or cruel in equal measure. But after years of slagging off the last 1/3 of the discography, I was really hoping for redemption. And I’m happy to say it came. None of my top 5 is at risk, but even just typing this, I think it deserves to be scooched up at least a notch or two.
Bottom Line: This is up against Super Furry Animals’ Rings Around the World LP. a record that has a fervent fan base. I can certainly repsect that, but sometimes you gotta dance with who brang ya, ands this is one of those times. R.E.M. for both bracket pick and my vote today.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at Stephen Malkmus’ self-titled debut
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challenge and noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
In 1999, indie rock legends Pavement went on hiatus. ultimately this break would stretch something like 20+ years, but it only took frontman Stephen Malkmus 18 months to get back in the saddle and drop a solo record.
The short version is this: his self-titled debut sounds like it could’ve very easily been the next record in the band’s discography. “A natural evolution from Terror Twilight!,” they’d all say. It’s as quirky as anything they ever put together, what with odd solos, fuzz in unexpected places, and lyrics that have you scrambling to Genius (or wherever) to confirm whether you actually heard what you thought you did.
Somewhere along the way, though, Malkmus decided to have…fun? He’s always been a bit of a gadabout, like the slightly off-kilter and always high guy that used to hang around the dorms. In other words, the indie aesthete personified. Now he’s a little older and wounded by a bunch of crappy gin and tonics. It’s not wholly refined, but it’s a good look.
I’m not saying this is sunshine pop, but look at any clip of Pavement back in the day: Mark Ibold looks like he’s having the time of his life. Maybe Bob a little too. Everyone else? Just seemed bummed AF to be there. I know performative misery was the style at the time, and maybe the joke leveled up and now flies over my head, but this feels much more earnest. Even when he’s at his most impish, it doesn’t feel like a front. I mean, there’s a vibraphone on here!
Maybe he had a “visited by three ghosts” moment or whatever, but it just feels like he’s relieved to be out doing his own thing and comfortable admitting he’s having fun doing it.
Pavement had their share of hooks, but Malkmus has gone all in on ’em here; the (perfectly titled) “The Hook” has a riff that’ll still be in your head this time tomorrow. Discretion Grove sounds like Fountains of Wayne doing a send-up of Pavement. It’s glorious. And on it goes.
Bottom Line: Malkmus is one of those artists who, even on the worst record, is still wildly entertaining. And what a breath of fresh air after yesterday’s claustrophobic ride through EDM, IDM, or whatever lipstick the hipsters are trying to slap on that Fennesz record.
Any thoughts on Pavement or this record? Agree/disagree with my take? Sound off in the comments!
On the Silver Jews’ 4th record, David Berman turns country influence into something wry, spare, and strangely intimate.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a quick look at Silver Jews’ Bright Flight
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
David Berman strikes me as someone who could spend a week fussing over a line or turn of phrase, the kind of writer who sets an impossibly high bar for himself and then plays it off, trying to convince the world none of it matters. That contradiction is at the fore on Bright Flight, a record made in Nashville, a city fueled today by polish and sounds ready-made for radio by people whose idea of a pickup is an $80,000 monstrosity that never leaves the pavement. This is not Berman’s Nashville, and these are not his people. He’s much more at home among the rogues’ gallery of characters in the city’s underbelly, yet his lyrical skill is as good as anyone at the song factory that dots the city.
The record is filled with stories that are relatable and ones that likely only make sense in his head. Put simply, these are some of the best words he ever put to paper. Listening to a Silver Jews record always feels a little voyeuristic, like we’ve swiped his journal and are reading by flashlight.
Musically, this is one of the most spare records he put to tape. That’s by design. In Berman’s world, “going country” isn’t about big sounds or high production. Everything has an intentionally amateur quality to it; there’s some dirt on the lens. It’s also the first Silver Jews album on which his wife, Cassie, makes an appearance.
Nashville has certainly left its mark. “Run Away with Me, Darlin’” is country 101, and “Tennessee” meets the textbook definition, but only someone like him could drop a line like “Come to Tennessee / ’Cause you’re the only 10 I see” and not have me spraining my eyes from rolling them too hard. His cover of “Friday Night Fever” is far enough removed from George Strait’s original that you’d be excused for not knowing it wasn’t an original.
We all know how this story ends, but before Berman’s mid-air breakup, Bright Flight gave us some of the finest Silver Jews songs to date.
Bottom Line:Bright Flight is up against Princess Superstar’s Is, another artist I’d never heard of, and whose record turned out to be a godamned delight. My bracket pick went to Silver Jews, but tbh, had I listened to Is ahead of time, you might’ve been reading a different sentence. Either way, either of these will be fun to talk about in Round 2.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at Fugazi’s The Argument and it faces off against Word of Mouf by Ludacris.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
If ever there was a tale of two records, this is it. On the one hand, you have Fugazi. As I’ve noted before,
Some records change your life, but rarely does a band come along that changes the way you live. Fugazi did both. In an era when selling out was still a four-letter word, the band did what they did best: they lived their lives on their terms. They could make a compelling case for why you should be on their team, but if you weren’t, that was okay, too. It was a big tent, and their live-and-let-live mindset was a far cry from the straight-edge kids who had teased those threads to their extreme and spent shows looking for drinks to knock out of people’s hands.
Speaking of those shows, the band capped admission at $5 and insisted they be all-ages. I imagine that eventually paid off in the form of increased record sales, but they left a lot of money on the table then. Same with shying away from selling merch and staying on their homegrown Dischord label. Respect and street cred are all well and good, but they don’t pay the rent. But here’s the thing: that DIY ethic wasn’t just a gimmick for Fugazi; it was everything. When one of your songs has a chorus that screams, “You are not what you own,” selling t-shirts becomes a little tricky.
The band held themselves to a high ethical standard, and none of it would’ve mattered if the music wasn’t any good.
But about those records…
You should know that my favorite Fugazi record is whichever one I happen to be listening to when asked. There are highs and lows in any catalog, but in this case, it’s really all relative.
Some make you angry, some pump you up, and some lean more introspective. The Argument is one of the rare records that can survive that kind of whiplash. Fugazi’s sixth and (probably, but hopefully not) final album is hugely underrated, and it feels like the band finding a way to level up every part of their sound without losing the ingrained angst that made them so great in the first place.
Recorded at Inner Ear with Don Zientara and the band in early 2001, The Argument is a very different kind of Fugazi record than the post-hardcore they spent much of the ’90s perfecting. There’s no equivalent to “Break In” here. The distortion is dialed back, and there’s less screams (If that’s what you’re after, I have good news: “Full Disclosure” is right up your alley).
Want an oddly eerie/oddly infectious guitar line? “Life and Limb” has you covered. That doesn’t mean they softened or softened their take on the world around them. Every part of what made Fugazi special is still here: the off-kilter riffs, the dub-heavy rhythm section, the vocal interplay between MacKaye and Picciotto; really, the ability to splice together different genres and make the whole thing sound easy. Again, nothing new for the band at this point. But on The Argument, all of it sounds sharpened and more practiced.
“Epic Problem” is as explosive as anything on Margin Walker or 13 Songs, and is right in the overlap of the “Dissonant” and “Melodic” Venn diagram of their sound. How they do this, I have no idea; I just know it works. It’s all part of what makes them so addictive. Ditto “Strangelight,” which moves from a slightly disorienting rhythm toward a more sweeping one at the end.
“Oh,” might be the best example of how far Fugazi could stretch without breaking. As far as I know, it’s the only track where Ian, Guy, and Joe all sing (happy to stand corrected if I’m off here!), and they picked a track with some call-and-response drama. Those signs of evolution/progress are all over this album. Like they’re finally ready to try some things they know they couldn’t have pulled off earlier in their careers. And it all makes for one of–if not the- best Fugazi releases.
Look, like everyone else, I would have loved more Fugazi records, but if The Argument is the last we’ll see of ‘em, at least they did it right. I’d rather they went out riding high than with something half-baked just for a little cash. Who could fault ‘em for that?
Speaking of which…
At the other end of the spectrum, we have Ludacris. In real life, I work for a Fortune 100 company, and our CEO sees himself as much more hip than he actually is. You know the type: the guy that wears $1500 tailored suits but pairs ‘em with Vans. He also likes to trot out the fact that he was a roadie decades ago and shows up at SXSW. Which, I mean, Ok. The C-suite! They’re just like us! Sure, Jan. What it really leaves is an overpowering “how do you do, fellow kids” vibe.
We also have an annual celebration in Atlanta. This is really a corporate event disguised as a county fair, and, well, I bring all of this up to mention that Ludacris has played this sort of thing at least twice. “Sellout” used to be a four-letter word back in the day, but with time, age, and change, I’ve softened on that a little bit. But I have a hard time reconciling the idea that he’s singing and dancing for the same people who constantly apply downward pressure to my career.
Look, I have no issue with Luda getting the bag. If they’re paying, and he wants to play, so be it! But I don’t have to like it. He might have hoes in every area code, but you only need to go to one—the 404—to see how low he’ll go for a dollar.
Bottom Line: Fugazi. all day, every day.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at Weezer’s Green album as it takes on Melody A.M. by Röyksopp.
In my head, every Weezer fan is one of these two people. Reductive? Maybe. Accurate, probably.
At any rate…
At the risk of great bodily harm, here’s my tl;dr: Weezer didn’t follow up Pinkerton so much as they ran as fast as they could away from it. This was a good thing.
After the (at best) confused reaction to their 1996 album, Rivers Cuomo and co. went back to the drawing board and reeled things back. The Green Album plays like something of a reset button, a record built to avoid risk at all costs, and one meant to make you forget Pinkerton ever happened. No oversharing from Cuomo or blood-on-the-page type lyrics. No big swings, sound-wise. Instead, we got ten clean, efficient power pop songs that stick to the formula and rarely step outside it.
And for the most part, the plan works.
Clocking in at just under 30 minutes, the record is as streamlined as Weezer ever sounded. Crunchy mid-tempo riffs, stacked harmonies, and guitar solos that mirror the vocal melodies almost exactly. It is tight, polished, and an easy listen. You can hear the influences, too: bright 60s-style vocal hooks sitting atop thicker, fuzzed-out 70s guitar tones. Again, this is the band’s stock in trade, but they’re talented enough that it never feels derivative.
The album peaks early. “Hash Pipe,” “Island in the Sun,” and “Crab” are one of the best three-song runs in the band’s catalog. “Hash Pipe” brings a thick, sleazy riff with just enough bite to give the record some edge. “Island in the Sun” is the opposite; loose, warm, and about as effortlessly catchy as anything they have written. IOW, it’s a weapons-grade earworm. It was in ’01, and it still is in ’26, at least for me, anyway. “Crab” keeps things moving without losing momentum, sticking to the same structure and sticking the landing. I was too lazy to look, but if that was a single, I’m surprised it didn’t fare better. If it wasn’t, I’d be curious to know why.
Either way, that stretch does a lot of the heavy lifting here.
From there, the album settles in, and, well, kinda settles. Nothing falls apart, but not much pushes forward either. Cuomo had traded that raw, uncomfortable writing of Pinkerton for lighter, more surface-level lyrics. Again, that makes for an easy listen, a pleasant one, even. But it also opens the door to monotony, which the back side of the record comes perilously close to. If this is your thing, it’s a bunch of what you love. If it’s not, it can all feel like one big amorphous blob. The band deserves kudos for that consistency, but it comes with a cost. The songs start to blur together, built from the same pieces and delivered in the same way.
Still, I have to think that was the point.
The Green Album is Weezer playing it safe and doing it with discipline. Every choice feels controlled, from the short runtime to the repeated song structures. It makes for a smooth, no-frills listen that never overstays its welcome. You can throw it on, let it run, and not think too hard about it. If this had gotten stuck in my car’s CD player, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.
If viewed as a comeback record, it does the job. This course correction set Weezer back on track for the next several releases. The highs hit, and even the lows never drag things down. The whole thing moves quickly. Sure, the whole record leans heavily on those three standout tracks rather than the full tracklist, but that trio is strong enough to keep it in rotation.
This is not Weezer at their most ambitious or creative, and in the end, that was the right move. It is Weezer keeping things simple, keeping things clean, and getting back on track.
Bottom Line: Weezer’s up against Röyksopp’s Melody A.M., a pleasant enough record. There were parts that screamed “sync music” to me, but also some total delights like “Eple.” In the end, I can’t see it coming out on top here, but that’s down more to an unfair seeding/match up than anything else. Given a lower ranked/lesser-regarded opponent, it’s easy to see a scenario where this sails through. There’ll be some less deserving records that go through to round 2
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Best Record of 2001: Day 24- Basement Jaxx vs. Sophie Ellis-Bextor
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at Rooty by Basement Jaxx as it faces off against Read My Lips from Sophie Ellis-Bextor.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Basement Jaxx- Rooty
I’m gonna carbon-date myself here, but there used to be a time when you could buy ringtones for your phone. There was a whole-ass marketplace that sprung up selling (first) 8-bit interpretations of these, and then actual clips of songs or sounds themselves for your flip phone. Was this legal? Beats me, but 25 years ago this was cutting-edge stuff. I did this exactly twice: one was for “One Step Beyond” by Madness and was relatively short-lived. That was replaced by Basement Jaxx’s “Where’s Your Head At?” and it stayed until I got rid of the phone.
Let’s get that one out of the way first: it’s still catchy AF, sounds as good in the club as it does coming out of your car speakers (or phone), etc. Oh, and it samples not one, but two Gary Numan songs. So yeah, 11/10. No notes.
For those that don’t know: this is my kind of house. Think more big, bouncy beats and less bleep-bloop type stuff. It’s usually right in the pocket BPM-wise, and if there’s any sampling, it over-indexes on soul, early R&B, or disco. In other words, it sounds like it’s coming from the future but with a ton of retro pop flavor. That’s some serious dissonance, but when it works, it works.
That’s a good chunk of this record—specifically “Where’s Your Head At,” “Jus 1 Kiss,” and “Get Me Off.” “Do Your Thing” is a little acid house with a really cool jazzy piano and vocal that will remind you of Moby before he decided to double down on being weird (in the studio and real life). Those four alone should be enough to get this through to round two.
Other tracks are a little too chopped up for my taste (looking at you, “Crazy Girl”), but zooming out, I get why people dig them.
And just when you think Rooty can do no wrong, we… get interludes. For those that don’t know, these are one of my pet peeves. I know this was still the early days of CDs, and artists/labels felt like they had to fill that space to justify the extra cost, but no one wanted these. There’s no value add in tracks like “Kissalude” or “Freakalude” other than juicing the track count. These mar what is otherwise a killer record.
I know they usually wipe phones before reselling them, but I’d like to think they missed this with mine and someone, in some corner of the world, charged it up, got it ready to go, and then had their mind blown on that first incoming phone call.
Sophie Eliis-Bextor- Read My Lips
One of the knocks against Basement Jaxx is that they tried to be too much and delved into too many genres. One of the knocks against Read My Lips is that it doesn’t go far enough. Fair enough. This record is solid, if unremarkable, dance pop. It’s the sort of thing you’d hear in the lobby of a downtown Marriott. It’s energetic but never distracting. I will say that I was stoked to see Gregg Alexander had his hand in this record. The New Radicals frontman’s second life as a writer/producer doesn’t get nearly enough attention. Also, “Move This Mountain” has bells in it—something that’s almost always a plus in my book.
I sometimes like to read reviews while giving a record a first pass, and I’ve gotta say I was surprised at how widely this was panned. To hear some of these tell it, Read My Lips was an affront to humanity. Ellis-Bextor already had a solid résumé before going into the studio and more than once had been tabloid fodder. I wonder if some of this was a bit of tall poppy syndrome? I will say that in isolation, each of the tracks is solid. Ten in a row, though, and they start running together. I can’t help but think that if these had been released as 12” singles, the overall reception might’ve been more positive.
At any rate, it’s very much a 2001 dance-pop record—the sort of thing Kylie Minogue (and everyone else) was making at the time after that last wave of SAW records passed through. Ellis-Bextor has a fantastic voice that carries a lot of the load here. This is the sort of record I might put on at work to keep things moving but wouldn’t mind missing a lyric or two if the phone rang or we got a blitz of teletype messages.
If they set out to make a record that people would regard as “pleasant,” mission accomplished.
Note: looks like this was reissued for this year’s Record Store Day as an “RSD First” release, featuring exclusive voice recordings incorporated throughout the album, plus rare bonus tracks and reimagined artwork. Releasing exclusively as part of Record Store Day 2026 on a limited edition red transparent glitter 2LP, each copy will be numbered and housed in a single sleeve with reimagined album cover art, plus printed inner bags featuring new unseen imagery compared to previous reissues. Okay, then.
Bottom Line: On a surface level, both are dance records for different audiences—one very much high-sheen and one a little grittier. But only one sticks with you long after the record is over. Basement Jaxx it is.
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Today we’re taking a look at Love and Theft by Bob Dylan as it faces off against Wu Tang Clan’s Iron Flag LP.
Note: As many of you saw, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 2001 challengeand noted that I’d be writing some of these up.
The plan is to do quick hits on each first-round matchup and post them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably be a few typos. We’ll also have a few guest posts along the way, so make sure to stay tuned for those!
Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks always appreciated.
KA—
Bob Dylan- Love and Theft
The last bracket challenge was for 89, and, of course, there was a Dylan record that year, which meant it would get nominated and be voted in. It was seeded at #66, which struck me as a bit low, but that speaks to the voting bloc demographics more than anything (add 10-12 years on and I guarantee that number’s somewhere in the teens).
Anyway, in the interest of putting my priors on the table early, here’s what I wrote then, and 10 months on, it still rings true:
I know that no matter what I write, no matter how many angels sing, I will get at least one reply telling me that it wasn’t enough, that I hadn’t quite prostrated myself correctly at the feet of Dylan. And how dare I?
There will invariably be some invective telling me to go F myself as well. Which, ok. I mean, I get it. This is a man people love dearly. He could read the phone book, and someone, somewhere, would laud it. Someone else would pore over the lyrics with a Talmudic intensity, searching for hidden meaning from our Minnesota magi.
I am not one of those people.
I can respect the love people have for him. I find his influence on music and pop culture interesting. But I have to be in the mood—I mean, really in the mood—to hear some Dylan, and even then, it’s limited to small doses. My runaway favorite song is this version of “Jokerman,” and most of that is because he’s playing with The Plugz.
If you ever want to summon a certain cohort of music fans, do a Top 100 of all time and leave Bob Dylan off the list. You don’t even have to go that far; your partner can submit one on his own, and you simply have to offer insufficient tribute. Highway 61 Revisited is…fine. I said what I said.
I think part of the allure is that it’s Dylan; you’re just supposed to like him. Whether you actually do or not is a different story. For older fans, I think it’s so representative of their formative years that they’re willing to overlook just about anything (you know, like his voice). And that’s fine! We like what we like. And mortality is a helluva drug. My contention is that in 10-15 years, I’ll ramble on too long about New Order or some ‘91-era band and get a comment about getting back to the home. Whatever.
What you should know is that by the timeOh Mercy ended, I’d had a small change of heart. nothing to shift my overall stance, but it wasn’t awful. It’s all relative, but I’d say the same for Love and Theft, too. These are the early days of Dylan’s current phase, and Love and Theft feels like he’s… having fun? What would the radicals-turned-stockbrokers think of that? Nothing’s gonna dethrone the version of Jokerman I mentioned above, but man, did Lonesome Day Blues and Mississippi come close. The former is noisy and fun, and the latter’s a mid-tempo rocker. There’s some swing (”Summer Days”) on here, but I’m willing to overlook it as having been caught up in the (regrettable) fad of the era. I like the overall blues-y direction this one takes. It feels effortless and easy.
See ya in my inbox.
Wu-Tang Clan- Iron Flag
Wu Tang is for the children, but this record is not for me. These are some of the best to ever do it, but this record feels like they’re going in 9 different directions. Props for the Flavor Flav guest spot, but not even he could save some of these joints. “Da Glock” is an absolute clunker. That said, it is Wu-Tang, and when they’re good? Godamn, they’re good. Check out “Y’All Been Warned” and “Radioactive” for a little bit of what makes’ em so lethal.
Bottom Line:
My bracket pick say Wu-Tang, but Lord have mercy, I’m voting for Dylan here. Who even am I anymore?
Any thoughts on either of these records? Agree/disagree with my takes? Which one of these would you vote for? Sound off in the comments!
Kevin Sent 