The Best Record of 1989: Day 27

28 Yo La Tengo, President Yo La Tengo vs. #101 Prefab Sprout, Protest Songs

Good morning!

Today we’re taking a look at records from Yo La Tengo and Prefab Sprout


Note: As many of you know, I recently wrote about a Best Record of 1989 challenge and noted that I’d be occasionally writing some of these up.

I’ve started doing some quick hits of each matchup and posting them directly to the page. Some will be longer, some won’t, and some might just be a handful of sentences. There’ll probably definitely be some typos.

Check ’em out and let me know your thoughts! Chin wags & hot takes welcome! Sharing and restacks are always appreciated.

KA—


Yo La Tengo has been around long enough now that most people who know the band have a favorite record, era, or run. But in those early years—before they became your favorite band’s favorite band- they were still feeling their way through to what they wanted to become. President is a preview of all of the boxes; whatever passes for a single in the YLT universe, a good slab of feedback, and an uncanny ability to pull off a cover song you never saw coming.

Regarding the “singles.” I should preface this by saying that the first two tracks on this album are two of my all-time faves by the band, and that they sit atop a long list. “Baranbay, Hardly Working” is an all-timer. It kicks off with a wave of hypnotic feedback that grabbed me instantly and has never really let go. The organ that comes in later and its repetition of it all sealed the deal. “Drug Test” is vaguely menacing— or at least as menacing as Ira Kaplan can muster.

“Orange Song” is a bit of garage rock the likes of which used to radiate out of garages nationwide. It’s hyper, a little bit rockabilly, and a lot unhinged. It’s fantastic. “Alyda” slows things down and is a lovely lilt featuring Georgia Hubley on backing vocals- something we’d see more of as the years went on.

There are two versions of “The Evil That Men Do” here- and in, yes, a harbinger of things to come, they are wildly different from one another (see also: “Big Day Coming” off of 1993’s Painful). The first (“Craig’s version”) feels like something from an Ennio Morricone fever dream- I say that as a compliment. Do psychedelic westerns exist? If not, they should. What a fun genre! At any rate, this would be a great track for one of those.

The second (“Pablo’s version”) is a 10-minute-plus blast furnace of sonic chaos. Like clouds parting, something resembling a “normal” (it’s all relative) song appears before the whole thing collapses back upon itself. If you count yourself in the “fan of noisy YLT” camp, you‘re in for a treat.

It all wraps up with the band putting their own spin on Dylan’s “I Threw it All Away,” because, of course, it does.

AllMusic describes this as the record that “gets to the heart of what makes this band tick.” That’s fair, but what President Yo La Tengo does best is show us a band on the precipice of greatness, giving us a preview of what’s to come.


I should preface this one by noting that Prefab Sprout’s Steve McQueen (or Two Wheels Good, depending on what side of the Atlantic you’re reading this on) is one of my favorite records. So much so that I essentially stopped listening to anything else from the band. I’ll carve out an exception for the band’s “The Sound for Crying,” but even that was on Life of Surprises, a Best Of compilation. Pound for pound, the first four tracks on Steve McQueen (“Faron Young,” “Bonny,” “Appetite,” and “When Love Breaks Down”) might be the brightest example of sophisti-pop from 1985. Maybe the decade?

Paddy McAloon can hold his own behind the mike (Wendy Smith can, too), and their vocals float on top of wonderfully complex rhythms and shimmering melodies.

Okay, that’s a lot of words to say. I wasn’t really sure what I was in for here. Skimming a couple of reviews, I saw what were, for me, red flags. Phrases like “stripped down” signaled that I’d be getting an acoustic or folk-tinged record. No thanks. But I was pleasantly surprised to hear it referred to as a logical next step to Steve McQueen.

If that was a nice surprise, realizing it’s more of a sequel than anything else was a delight. Why it was decided to squish a record in between ( 1988’s From Langley Park to Memphis) is beyond me. That one’s not bad either, but it makes their discography feel slightly amiss.

Any doubts I had left vanished after hearing the opening pair of “The World Awake” and “Life of Surprises.” “Faron Young” set an impossibly high bar (IMO), but these both rise to the occasion. It takes five tracks to get to anything stripped down, and “Dublin” is a doozy. It’s spartan with more space than sound as McAloon sings about the IRA. “Diana” is about Princess Diana, and as smooth as anything else in the band’s catalog.

“Pearly Gates” closes out the record with a rumination on mortality.

There’ll be no stampede on the Pearly Gates
I’ll say ‘after you,’ you’ll say ‘I don’t mind the wait’
There’ll be no stampede on those imposing doors
Naked and afraid, cowering we crawl on all fours
There’ll be no stampede on the Pearly Gates
I’ll say ‘after you,’ you’ll say ‘I don’t mind the wait

It’s a shame that Protest Songs wasn’t released in the order in which it was recorded. Had that happened, I have to think it would’ve served as a 1-2 punch with Steve McQueen and given the band some real momentum. As it stands, this record is known mainly to fans. C’est la Vie.


Bottom Line: Protest Songs was a genuine delight, and a huge case of “what might’ve been.” President Yo La Tengo is rough around the edges, but a huge case of “preview of what’s to come.”

My vote: My bracket pick and vote will be going to YLT.

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!

Check out the full bracket here.

Info on the tourney, voting, and more is here.

As always, thanks for being here.

KA—

Why Yo La Tengo’s ‘This Stupid World’ Could Be Your New Favorite Album

There are two sides to Yo La Tengo. Both are very good sides.

The first is quiet, contemplative Yo La Tengo. That’s the one we’ve seen the most of in recent years. Sometimes haunting and/or listless, other times endearing. Occasionally, like on tracks like Looney Tunes, a sonic lazy river that seemingly stretches forever.

The second is rocking Yo la Tengo. Sometimes it’s vaguely menacing, as with tracks like Shaker. The sound is locomotive. I’ll also include their poppier side and impeccable taste in picking covers here.

Either way, they’re giving us straight rippers with Kaplan barely in control, playing like one of those inflatable wavy guys you see at low-rent used car lots.

Instead of a specific direction, they just chose ‘em all

Messy. Precise. Jarring. Soothing. Over the last forty(ish) years, Yo La Tengo have consistently been an exercise in contradiction. And yet somehow, it all fits together nicely, as it’s supposed to. 

This is one of those bands that always sound like themselves, no matter what boundary they’re pushing or which norm they’re winging out a third-story window.

It’s always a YLT record, ya know?

On their latest release, “This Stupid World,” they’ve kept all of that going.

Sidebar: Yo La Tengo can be a band that makes you work before you get it. The full listening experience requires intention. There’s friction. The effort is always worth it, though, with something new revealing itself with every spin. And while they have some songs that could broadly be classified as singles, this band’s work is best heard from A1 to the closer.

So I have to say that for as much hype as there was leading up to the release of This Stupid World, I’m grateful that they only released a couple of tracks ahead of time. Hearing the record unfold for the first time is a joy. 


The record opens strong with Sinatra Drive Breakdown. Look, I know “motorik” is fast becoming the most overused adjective in my arsenal, right up there with “awesome” and “fantastic.” but for this track, it fits. Just trust me here.

Drummer Georgia Hubley and bassist James “new guy since ‘92” Mcnew lay down a killer groove that promptly chugs on for 7+ minutes. So much for radio-friendly.

Another rule proudly ignored.

Next up is “Fallout,” easily their most pure pop offering since perhaps Ohm off of Fade, or Electr-O-Pura’s Tom Courtenay. With an easy rhythm and quasi-call-and-response-like chorus of:

Wanna fall out, fall out of time
Wanna fall out, fall out of time
Wanna fall out, fall out of time
Wanna fall out, fall out of time

Don’t be surprised if you get caught singing this at a red light. I’m not saying this has happened to me, but I’m not not saying it, either.

This band is famously introverted, with Hubley sometimes giving the impression that she’s using the drum kit as a shield. But perhaps more than anyone else, she has come more into her own with each release.

On “Aselestine,” her vocals are unguarded & lovely, even as she’s singing Where are you/The drugs don’t do/What you said they do.

On closer, “Miles Away,” they’re endearing as she laments those she’s lost along the way.

You feel alone
Friends are all gone
Keep wiping the dust from your eyes
So many signs
I must be blind
How few of them I see

But to get there, we get to get through a few more tracksKaplan’s usual knack for squishing an entire backstory into a paragraph is on display throughout the record, but perhaps no more so than on Apology Letter, where he sings:

It’s so clear
What I’m trying to say, but right on cue
It doesn’t ever come that easily
‘Cause the words
Derail on the way from me to you
It seems to happen with some frequency
Depressingly


Brain Capers is expansive and rides a thick groove. It’s relentless—and it’s my favorite song on the record. Kaplan is in full glorious wavy inflatable guy mode here.

The title track is a steely shoegaze monster. A weighted blanket of the band’s distortion and feedback, with Kaplan telling us, “This stupid world, it’s all we have.”

They know the only way out is through, and this is their way of telling us that if it’s not gonna end well, we can at least have a good time on the way down.


Bottom Line: Yo La Tengo has never been a band that fits nicely in a box, and 2023’s no time to start. They’ve gone from critics darling to your favorite band’s favorite band to indie rock elder statesmen.

And all of that from a band that feels more like neighbors you’d ask to watch your house while on vacation.

With seventeen records and a bunch of EPs and singles, this would’ve been a fine capstone to a storied discography. Instead, it feels like a band hitting its stride with the best yet to come.