—Hex Girlfriend
TOP ALBUMS OF 2011
And so, we’ve reached the end of the year, and it’s time for the annual roundup of the year’s albums. This year’s total number came out to 46, for some reason. We’ll be counting down the albums to number one this whole month.
26. So Outta Reach EP - Kurt Vile
Kurt Vile is a rock star in the purest sense, and if you don’t get that from his full-length also out this year, you definitely do from So Outta Reach. Some might consider the EP as a collection of B-sides to Smoke Ring For My Halo, the massively amazing album Vile released in early 2011 - and to be honest, they were done in the same studio sessions - but So Outta Reach in its own right is a collection of songs that gain momentum on their own, removed from Vile’s full-length and his entire career. He’s got a history of putting out singles and EPs, and various recordings of the same songs (see: “Sad Ghost” on the In My Time single); he’s also got a history of moving in circles, using the same lyrics in different tunes, using the same themes, using the same everything (see: God Is Saying This To You, Childish Prodigy, and Constant Hitmaker, all contain relatively the same strain, “I got a hunchback” in them). But the culmination of al of this, it seems, is in the final track on So Outta Reach, entitled “(so outta reach)” which is essentially a redux of “Life’s A Beach,” however it feels much more effective and necessary. “Life’s A Beach” is a quick anthem, whereas “(so outta reach)” plays more to the tiredness Vile obvious feels from it all, the tiredness we all feel. And it’s in the moments of this song that we truly see him for who he is. The songs might not be as beautiful as the ones on Smoke Ring, but they sure as hell draw us closer to realize our similarities to him as an artist.
“The Creature” is undoubtedly the single off the EP, and both it and “It’s Alright” play the fine line of standard Vile song and interesting excursion for him. I personally find myself more of a fan of the quieter moments of God Is Saying This To You, however overproduction is not an issue on any of Vile’s music. The real strength in the EP, however, come in “Laughing Stock” and “(so outta reach)” which tend to get into the more aimlessness we’d expect from a rock star, which is exactly what Vile is. Whether he’s singing about cigarettes or about how he can’t sleep at night, there’s a feeling of connection him, which is especially apparent on “(so outta reach).” “I locked my keys in the car again,” he sings, which is just as much a problem as being so out of reach, which he eventually speaks as we’re let into the breakdown of the song. Anyone who knows me also knows the words to this song because I play it so often. It’s a really beautiful tune, and maybe of one Vile’s best ever. In comparison to “Life’s A Beach,” one feels like the one he might play on stage for a million fans and the other feels like one he might play to himself when he realizes how tired he is of it all. “Bet all the greats are eternally depressed,” he sings, and goes onto say, “I wanna go to a mall.” It’s these lines that feel so unconnected and yet so connected that make these two songs brilliant in their own right.
Maybe there’s a level of rockstardom that Vile feels, and that’s why his music tends to go in circles. On first glance, there hasn’t been much progression from Constant Hitmaker to So Outta Reach, but at the same time there’s so much progression. As a performer, he’s reached a place where he’s able to actively convey feelings and emotions in his music to an extent that moves us, while also creating tunes that we want to listen to over and over again. You think back to The Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel and The Stones and all of these musicians’ effectiveness in combining these aspects of music, and you realize that Vile is right amongst them in ranks. And So Outta Reach is the thesis statement for all that; it might not be the full picture, but it hits right where you want it to.
25. Era Extraña - Neon Indian
Alan Palomo went to Helsinki to record the last Neon Indian album, and there’s a video out there of him wandering the snowy wasteland, apparently searching for something – and one can only assume that what he found what Era Extraña, which he released in mid-September earlier this year; however despite feeling about Neon Indian, the album still has a feeling of winter to it. His first album, Psychic Chasms, was strictly a summer one, and I think it was intended to feel that way; Era Extraña does the opposite. From it’s opening moments, we automatically feel the sense of a more mature band, and a more mature band, after realizing the capabilities of music, would make a more mature album, which here comes in the form of winter.
There’s probably less to work with here than Psychic Chasms, yes, and if that debut album had come out second, after Neon Indian was already an established band, it would have likely been a much bigger hit. Each song was catchier than the previous in the best way possible, and although it caught on with audiences, it wasn’t nearly as acclaimed as it could have been. Era Extraña, for what it’s worth, is completely different from that album. It’s much darker, even in it’s brightest moments. It doesn’t have that same free spirit feel to it, and that’s probably the best thing for the band. While still maintaining that chillwave feel, Palomo managed to make a more complete album that stands alone as a piece of art, much more than Psychic Chasms did.
With that being said, “Polish Girl” is the best song ever recorded by Neon Indian. Not only is it immensely catchy, but also it’s also just really good. You want to dance when you hear it, you don’t want it to be over, and it fits in the album. There’s probably a solid reason for placing this track second, because after hearing it, the rest of the album doesn’t sound like much. And it’s only after you continually listen do you pick up the other gems of the album: the almost James Ferraro sounding “Hex Girlfriend,” also an amazing track, and the beautiful bridge of “Fallout,” which we haven’t heard from Neon Indian before. There’s also the reoccurring “Heart” tracks, which feel much more purposeful here than the songs “Laughing Gas” and “If I Knew I’d Tell You,” felt on Psychic Chasms, despite being very good. And even the album closer, “Arcade Blues,” which feels a bit like a cop out and out of place, is a pretty good song, for what it’s worth.
Sure, Era Extraña could be better, especially with the knowledge of what Palomo is capable of, after hearing “Hex” and “Polish.” But that’s not to say it isn’t a good album, because it is – it’s another step towards a meaningful chillwave album that feels more like a statement than a pointless collection of tracks. And all of this emotion is perfect encapsulated in the album artwork, which essentially is just as mysterious as the album – where do we go from here and what does this music mean? It’s rare that a song can make you want to dance just as much as it makes you want to think, and Neon Indian has nailed that down pretty well.
