The White Stripes: cunning and articulate.
Music
40 solid gold hits
by Listener reviewers
The best music of 2005, as ranked by our critics.
1. CHAVEZ RAVINE, Ry Cooder (Nonesuch). Having endured accusations of cultural carpet-bagging, Cooder pointedly sets his magnum opus on his own doorstep. This almost-cinematic song cycle tells of a Mexican community in Cooder’s native Los Angeles and its destruction in the 50s at the hands of McCarthyist witch-hunters and power-mad property developers. And although even the unexpected arrival of a UFO fails to influence the saga’s dire ending, Cooder’s humanism – not to mention his masterful mix of Latin, folk and funk – is ultimately uplifting.
2. PEGASUS, the Phoenix Foundation (FMR). “It’s a lie! It’s a lie! It’s a lie that you gotta be a big man in this world!” The line repeats like an increasingly agitated stuck record as this sophomore album draws to a close, and it’s a fitting conclusion to a set of songs that gives voice to sensitivities and insecurities that Kiwi males more often conceal. And it’s not just chief writer Sam Flynn Scott who takes a fearless stand but the whole six-piece Wellington band, who doctor these songs with equal doses of alt-country and prog-rock.
3. LOST AND SAFE, the Books (Tomlab/Spunk). The New York-based duo of Paul du Jong and Nick Zammuto make lyrics out of found language, sampling phrases from films, newscasts, instructional bulletins and everyday conversation, which they set against a collage of chords and beats made out of everything from industrial equipment to their own cellos and banjos. The results can be laugh-out-loud funny or hauntingly sad, but the clincher is the way these digital cut-ups can pack as many memorable hooks as any pop song.
4. KICKING TELEVISION, Wilco (Nonesuch). “The best band will never get signed, the best songs will never get sung,” laments Jeff Tweedy in the song “The Late Greats”, so his roots-rock-turned-art combo will have to do. And with avant-jazzer Nels Cline added to the line-up for this live set, Tweedy’s songs – mostly from last year’s A Ghost Is Born and its celebrated predecessor Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – become more abstracted and orchestrated. Immaculately recorded at three shows in Chicago earlier this year; one feels simultaneously part of the warm hometown audience and onstage among the rattle and hum.
5. GET BEHIND ME SATAN, the White Stripes (XL/Shock). With pianos, marimbas and acoustic guitars replacing power chords, this was never going to have the impact of Elephant, either sonically or commercially. Yet the songs on this understated successor are Jack White’s most cunning and articulate yet, including a brilliant, bitter discourse on the nature of celebrity (“Take Take Take”), a couple of country crack-ups (“Little Ghost”, “I Ain’t That Lonely Yet”) and plenty of the bubblegum blues that he does better than anyone (“My Doorbell”, “Denial Twist”, “White Moon”).
6. IN THE HEART OF THE MOON, Ali Farka Toure & Toumani Diabate (World Circuit). The John Lee Hooker of the Sahara hooks up with another West African axe hero, Toumani Diabate, for the first time on record. The musicians are a study in contrasts; Diabate’s 21-stringed kora showering bright, liquid notes against the dry earth tones of Toure’s guitar. The resulting set of largely improvised instrumentals is trance-making.
7. AT CARNEGIE HALL, Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltrane (Bluenote). It’s the standard Monk repertoire (“Monk’s Mood”, “Blue Monk”, “Epistrophy”, etc), familiar from countless recordings. And yet, each of the tunes feels new and full of discovery in these recently unearthed performances, from a 1957 concert during the few months in which a still-emerging Coltrane was part of the cubist pianist’s quartet.
8. CRIPPLE CROW, Devendra Banhart (Shock). Though the psychedelic trappings suggest a latter-day Donovan, there’s a darker current running through Banhart’s songs that points to Donovan’s polar opposite, Lou Reed. On his fourth record in three years, Banhart augments his folksy finger-picking with everything from tablas to fuzzboxes. Throw in a few songs in Spanish – a link to his Venezuelan childhood – and the result is the richest offering yet from nu-folk’s most convincing eccentric.
9. I’VE GOT MY OWN HELL TO RAISE, Bettye LaVette (Anti). With a voice like champagne and grits, LaVette turned out some of the toughest soul records of the 60s. But it took fan-turned-producer Joe Henry to resurrect the forgotten singer, now 59, with handpicked material, all by women writers including Lucinda Williams, Aimee Mann, Fiona Apple and Sinead O’Connor. And she sings the hell out of ’em.
10. THE PONSONBY DCs, the Ponsonby DCs (buxton-blue@xtra.co.nz). The Front Lawn and “How Bizarre” are pre-empted and Peter Cape updated in “G’Day Mate”, the Ponsonby DCs’ 20-year-old pioneering piece of Kiwipop. Now on CD for the first time, the short-lived group’s only record is expanded with more lost anthems from mid-80s New Zealand (“Queen Street”, “Looking for the Action” and – best of all – “Another Great Moment in the History of Trivia Passes”).
1. JACK RUBY HI-FI, various artists (Auralux). Four scintillating vocals tracks segue into extended dubs and DJ versions across just under 40 minutes. Jack Ruby, the Ocho Rios’ sound-system operator and producer of the Burning Spear’s finest material, outdid himself on this progressive set. This ranks among my all-time favourite reggae albums. It’s a joy to see this heavy roots material fully available after a limited initial pressing in 1980.
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