A quick summary of my top ten for the year, and a very valiant attempt on Pitchfork’s totalitarian dictatorship of this sort of thing. There’s very little hip hop on here, mainly due to the fact that absolutely none of it grabbed my attention this year. (For the same reason, a lack of the harder edge of all alternative rock, which is very uncharacteristic for me) There’s no Kanye, for the simple fact that I haven’t been able to give it a listen fully, but something tells me he wouldn’t have featured anyway (So up yours Pitchfork)
In a nutshell? 2010 was a triumph for Indie pop/rock and the housier side of electronica in many respects… See if you agree:
10. Caribou - Swim
Why? For going super massive and stellar whilst maintaining a new and unique album sound, consistent standout tracks, dominating clubs speakers and a sterling live show…
9. Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffitti - Before Today
Why? For proving through his first proper studio album that he can maintain an excellent balance to his unhinged eccentricities
8. John Roberts - Glass Eights
Why? For providing the most arresting and eclectic electronic album of the year, and thus ejecting himself from the status of just another Berlin producer
7. Broken Bells - Broken Bells
Why? For a tour de force and marriage of razor sharp production, intelligent yet poppy songwriting and the realisation of both James Mercer and Danger Mouse’s true potential and strengths
6. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
Why? For nailing the third album by showing they can do straight up rock to an infinitely classier degree than any other established stadium outfits. And also proving that the second album really wasn’t that good compared to this much superior long player…
5. Field Music - Field Music (Measure)
Why? A daring bid to put two albums worth of material onto one proved to be vindicated, because its so varied, surprising, adventurous, beautiful and above all, damn consistent.
4. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
Why? For Bradford Cox’s ability to rise to the challenge of amalgamating the brilliance of Atlas Sound and Deerhunter perfectly, with Halcyon Digest proving the be a piece of synergistic brilliance, catapulting the latter firmly into the indie A list. The album also proved Cox has a brilliant knack for taking the listener exactly where they want to go. Desire Lines is probably one of the best songs of the year.
3. Lone - Emerald Fantasy Tracks
Why? A late but spectacular gatecrasher, Nottingham’s Matt Cutler takes the best of Boards Of Canada, combines that with early 90’s acid house and 808 State vibes, basically ‘puts a donk on it’, and makes it one of the most mindblowingly euphoric and dancefloor friendly long players of the year
2. Twin Shadow - Forget
Why? For providing hands down the debut album of the year, and proving we can get our eighties pop mastery fix on, and still get all deep and meaningful. George Lewis Jr’s array of talent splashes all over this sublimely produced album, thanks to Chris Taylor of Grizzly Bear.
1. Beach House - Teen Dream
Why? If the prize for best album of the year goes to the one that still gets played constantly, doesn’t have a mediocre track on it, has taken over people’s iPods/iPhones/Sony MiniDiscs for the duration of an entire year and basically, nobody has got sick of it, there’s only one winner. Beach House take the award home, hands down. A tour de force, it blew their previous release Devotion out of the water.
Biggest Disappointment:
Autolux - Transit Transit
An album thats release was delayed by more than 18 months, to accentuate the long wait from 2005’s excellent Future Perfect, this release was crushingly mediocre, with a second listen being a deflating endurance test…
Most Overrated:
James Blake:
Despite seeing what the buzz was all about with Mount Kimbie, and being blown away by ‘CYMK’, I’m still finding it hard to see what the adulation is all about with the rest of Blake’s material, as the hysteria seems to grow and grow… I’m giving it more time though
Dreamy indie shoegazey, hazy albums have been the order of the year thus far, especially in a Pitchfork kind of context. Beach House set the standard with Teen Dream, while Wild Nothing followed on with their slightly more upbeat and plaudit laden ‘Gemini’. Not to mention much of Deerhunter’s pretty solid ‘Halcyon Digest’, as covered already on this blog. Next in line now are Baltimore’s Lower Dens, who present their own take on the loosely defined genre in the guise of long player ‘Twin Hand Movement’. Comparisons with Beach House are inevitable, and probably one of the first references Lower Dens are going to have to constantly brace themselves for. They shouldn’t be too surprised, given they are fronted by an eerie and encapsulating female voice in frontwoman and established folk singer Jana Turner, who may never be able to shake off comparisons with Beach House’s Victoria Legrand. It doesn’t really help that they are currently touring together…
Twin Hand Movement is their first album, so when describing it as a less polished version of Beach House is neither lazy on my part, nor derogatory. The sound however, does come across as quite lazy. Its purposely haphazard, jangly and simple in its instrumentation, allowing the raw guitar sound and Turner’s voice battle it out in a tinny soundscape. It almost sounds as if Steve Albini got his hands on the mixing desk, and at times I’m not afraid to say that Lower Dens sound like an early Sonic Youth with Kim Gordon taking over the mic, especially in ‘Hospice Gates’. The sludging basslines and basic approach also recalls The Jesus and Mary Chain at times. However, given this lazyish soundscape pervades the record, its a blessing any tendency to ‘rock out’ or to get aggressive is held in check. Instead, a thoroughly spacey, gazey vibe is held in check. So you get the picture, a grittier Beach House, yeah? Probably clad in impossibly faded lumberjack shirts from 1993 for good measure too…
The problem is, this isn’t all that enticing, and wouldn’t really strike the fire in your belly to nab a few Lower Dens tickets, if you got a sniff of a live performance. Its because, despite the flattering comparisons, there’s not all that much from Lower Dens that jumps off the page. The album often is just that bit too hazy, too simple and a little too flat. (Especially if they want to compete amongst that emerging niche Pitchfork market…) After a promising start, the standard begins to fade into relatively anodine material gradually, and many of the songs melt into one. Prompting the dreaded term, ‘filler’, I hear you say…
That said, Twin Hand Movement certainly does have its moments, and has a strange charm to it. Repeated listening does reap its rewards, and there’s clearly something enchanting within this album. You begin to appreciate the band fully on the moments where they let their distinctive guitar sound hit the right notes and flourish. Songs such as Two Cocks, Blue and Silver, Tea Lights and Hospice Gates are great examples, and easily the best moments. Sadly, much of the album lacks this quality and punch, and thereby melts into ubiquity. Pity, because when they are good, they are very good indeed. It seems that with Twin Hand Movement, Lower Dens have merely flirted with the genuine quality needed to spar with the leaders in their field…
Inception is the latest blockbuster and mega hyped juggernaut to hit cinema screens, with a budget so big and a cast so stellar that it probably deserves to be lauded with the tag of ‘Cinematic Event of 2010’. It also has Christopher Nolan in the Director’s chair, and after the overwhelming success of his Batman ventures, audiences will expect in their millions. Upping the ante of his explosive bombast from the Dark Knight even more, I’m sure many of those millions will be appeased in their droves. However, don’t let this big budget veneer fool you. Inception is inherently flawed, and an overblown web of complex indulgence.
Leonardo DiCaprio is Dom Cobb, a former architect who now it seems, specialises in some form of corporate espionage, where he raids people’s dreams to steal their ideas and thoughts. He is the best in the business, and has a trusty intellectual, yet action sequence friendly sidekick in the form of Joseph Gordon Levitt. However, with his dead wife Mal (Marion Cotillard)haunting him and interfering in his dreams, Dom is troubled. Mega tycoon Saito (Ken Watanabe) presents Dom with an apparently impossible challenge, to commit ‘Inception’, and enter the dreams of his biggest rival (Cillian Murphy) and plant a thought that will prove advantageous to Saito’s business interests. Dom had already spent years in a limbo dream world with Mal forging dreams together, but after waking from this dream life, she thought that she was still in a dream and committed suicide, making Dom join her by incriminating him in her death. Dom had to flee the US and his children as a result, but Saito promises exoneration if he completes the mission. Confused? This is merely the beginning.
Priding itself as an intellectual take on challenging how the mind works, and a probing insight into the world of dreams, Inception allows itself to be a sprawling mess in terms of its own story and understanding. Comparisons with the Matrix have been overflowing, and are obviously inevitable given their similar sci-fi/action/mind bending template. However, the reason the Matrix was so successful was that its core concept was quite basic and quick to grasp, allowing the rest of the film to race away with ease into its spectacular sequences, with the viewer acutely aware of what was going on. Inception’s own complexity and dare I say it, pretentiousness, bogs it down from the off. The first half an hour moves at a frenetic pace, seeming as though it skips out every second scene in order to spew out the explanatory jargon to get the films premise off the ground.
Of course, this approach to dialogue sets a precedent for each individual in the film. It seems Nolan gave the same directions out to every member of the cast. Look cool, collected and tense, with little expression, as you deliver your sci fi jargon in a brisk tone. With this, there is a formulaic feel to every individual. There are no characters in this film, and no performances. Everybody is woefully underused. Gordon Levitt and Tom Hardy’s consistent face off’s to see who can outdo each other with the sharper line becomes particularly cringe inducing. DiCaprio doesn’t seem to offer any performance in general anymore, and it seems it utilised his big budget flick template, competent and standard, but without offering anything out of the ordinary. There is also little room for his emotional family sub plot to develop and be felt. Murphy, a fine actor as we know, has little to no dialogue to work with, and is left to rub his furrowed brow from time to time. You constantly wonder what Ellen Page is doing there too. I wanted to encourage her to go home and study for her Junior Cert, but she seems to be such an intellectual tyro that she grasps every single complex concept immediately. Honours Maths student obviously. How convenient.
If all of this is too terce, nervy and unnatural, perhaps the 200 million budget will provide a plethora of mindblowing action sequences? Well it does, but nothing we haven’t seen before. Given the incessant stream, I felt like I was watching one long slow motion ad for Sky Movies HD, rather than actually being immersed in a single film myself. Others were like a direct replica of those Matrix-esque human contortions(there’s the comparisons again) Weak, considering that’s from 12 years ago. It also seems as though the location scout won the lottery, and given the landscape of the dreams, we go from a monsoon ridden metropolis, to be suddenly catapulted to the snowy environs of ‘Where Eagles Dare’ without little explanation. It doesn’t really matter though, as the whole jumping of dream to dream is pinned together by the crew being sprayed at, but never hit, by a car chasing, machine gun toting crew of never ending muscle.
With the pace too frenetic, and the concept too complex and overblown, Inception just fails to work. Yes, some of the sequences are very visually impressive, but this isn’t enough to masquerade the fundamental flaws. No themes or insights emerge from this web. Credit to Nolan for the audacity in completing this project, but his brilliance before has been where he has worked with a cast iron template in Batman, which allowed the visual effects to be so much more striking. If he wants to recreate his complex and mind testing format, he needs to revisit his roots and strip back the big budget. If you compare his brilliant ‘Memento’ to ‘Inception’, there really is no comparison. Emerging from Inception, I was relieved have it all behind me. With Memento, I was mulling it over constantly, and implored to watch it all over again. Says it all really. Back to basics please Christopher.
I watched this a few weeks ago when it first came out, and was immediately driven to a pretty analytical evaluation of it, and even after about twenty minutes in, I knew I was pretty engrossed, concerned and utterly intrigued about where this Roger Greenberg character would go. However, I also felt it was the type of viewing experience that deserved a ‘good stewing’ before surmising on its general merits and the underlying lessons and themes it offered. In short, and like any decent film worth it salt, it managed to stir the thinking juices pretty effectively.
Ben Stiller is the eponymous Roger Greenberg, a mildly successful (but ultimately failed) musician in his earlier days, who has just emerged from a stint at a mental hospital, and has answered the call to house sit for his younger, (and on the face of it) far more successful and content brother. On the cusp of turning 40, Roger is entering the proverbial mid life crisis and evaluation period, and claims he sees it as the perfect opportunity to ‘do nothing for a while’. Although he sees it as the ideal route to take through this crossroads, Roger instead drives himself further into a self destructive denial that becomes increasingly apparent throughout the course of the film.
Along the way he reacquaints himself with his former bandmate, the gentle and damaged Ivan (Rhys Ifans) and his brother’s vulnerable yet impossibly endearing personal assistant Florence (Greta Gerwig). It emerges that Roger was the driving force behind breaking the band up, and denying them the chance to record their album and honour their contract, with Ivan clearly falling the hardest as a result. Florence herself has just emerged from a long term relationship, and is drifting from random partner to random partner in aimless and futile attempts at finding companionship. All three are essentially a constellation of awry lost souls, with Florence and Ivan more battered, and classically pathetic. Yet they are slowly but surely clawing themselves back, as they are good people at heart. Given their inherent good nature, they are endearing to the viewer, and if this was a straight up feel good story, perhaps Roger would be too.
While he consistently broaches contact with them, he still manages to offend and upset them(and everybody else he encounters) in his own unique way. One of the great strengths of the film actually is the way it combines the layering of masquerading Roger’s deep rooted flaws as quirky eccentricities, and consistent comedy inducing moments. While we are led on a merry path of wry chuckles through his mishaps and faux pas’ throughout, we quickly get used to a pattern where despite the comedy, we are forced to think deeper about this type of troubled character. Indeed, all the quirky incidents and randomly assorted moments throughout are designed specifically for us to gain a deeper understanding of Roger, and those he effects. His difficulty with who he is, what he has done and how he is growing older, all become apparent.
The more we experience his ways, the more he frustrates. When we should sympathise, he becomes more cantankerous, and utterly self absorbed. He is also completely ignorant of the chivalrous intentions of Florence, who naively thinks she can do good for him. But just when we seem as though we will give up on sympathising with this character, or even merely understanding him, his first dabble with cocaine in years (fittingly at a party of twenty somethings) finally offers us that glimmer of light we were waiting for. Uncomfortable in an environment where he has realised just how grown up he has become, and driven by a catalyst to become more open, he essentially opens up a can of worms, illustrating just how self destructive and lost he has become due to his own denial and inability to open up and be a tad more human in his emotion. He became a prime example of taking things too far. Perhaps this is how we ultimately get a skewed sense of sensitivity, sympathy or understanding for him when he drops this guard.
Stiller is excellent in the role, and this is a huge departure from the normal characters we’re used to (although there are one or two recollections of him as David Starsky…) I was hugely impressed by his stoic ability, and he is engrossing as this figure of pent up frustration. Arguably, he acutely represents what we need to avoid as we attempt to grow old and progress emotionally. Indeed, the film deserves praise purely for the character development, which managed to execute all these insights pretty well.
Other mentions must go to the lighting and cinematography, as the setting of the natural hazy Californian Summer sunshine, to me, gave the film’s setting an idiosyncratic feel, and perhaps even a constant effect of twilight attempting to set on Roger’s own mid life crisis. I must admit one disappointment though, I was expecting a little bit more from James Murphy’s contribution to the soundtrack, as it seemed to pass me by without much notice. But on the whole, a richly rewarding viewing experience, quirky and humourous en route, and ultimately one that should provoke much thought about the way we see ourselves.
