Daveportivo's Cultural Evaluation Facility

2010 seemed like as good as any for Mark E. Smith and The Fall to make a creative comeback. Your Future, Our Clutter seemed to suggest that Smith had become inspired in his time working with Damon Albarn and Gorillaz, as Your Future, Our Clutter is possibly the most danceable record The Fall have ever made. From the lo-fi creaky march of "Bury Pts. 1-3" to thick seductive rumble of "Mexico Wax Solvent" this is the best The Fall have ever sounded as a band. While Mark E. Smith and co. have been more essential and more revolutionary in the past, we've rarely seen them being this accessible and this cutting edge. The result is a record that sounds at home in the mix at sleek avante garde club, blasting out of a trendy indie disco or, in true Fall fashion, blaring aggressively and awkwardly out of your local battered old boozer. Rough, urgent, and groovy; Mark E. Smith should try this more often, the dance floor suits him better than you'd think.

KT Tunstall and Amy MacDonald must have been left scratching when their high profile 2010 returns were met with little more than a drawn out sigh and a shake of the head. After all just a few years ago the folk-pop fanbase was desperate for any glimmer of hope to cling to, but in 2010 they suddenly find themselves reveling in abundance. Taylor Swift has become strangely credible, Joanna Newsom is the queen of the art house folk, and Laura Marling has set her sights on world domination. It feels then, sacrilegious, to pick anyone above Marling. Yet for all Marling's demure pent up carnal rage I just couldn't look beyond Lissie's rollicking Catch A Tiger. In many ways it appears to be a label bosses dream; it has sultry soul ("Everywhere I Go"), catchy pop ("Loosen The Knot"), Tom Waits inspired folk waltzes ("Record Collector"), and stylish country-rock re-fits ("In Sleep"). While Lissie may lack originality at times, she compensates by bringing a propulsive sense of earnestness that drives Catch A Tiger forward. Lissie appears to be having a ball as she hops from one style to the next perfecting them with ease and a down to earth panache.

"Angel Echoes" placed highly in my tracks of the 2010 countdown, it was a ethereal piece characterized by a beautiful looped vocal sample that encouraged the listener to drift away with it for four unnervingly tranquil minutes. As There Is Love In You's opener it set an impeccably high standard for the rest of the LP to live up to. Remarkably, Keiran Hebden manages to maintain not only the quality but also the haunting emotional resonance of "Angel Echoes" creating forty seven minutes of minimalist ambient majesty. Occasionally, as on the sprawling "Love Cry", Keiran will introduce a chunky groove, complete with skipping beats, and layered samples but he always manages to maintain a distinct and somehow tragic atmosphere. While the overriding sensation arising from There Is Love In You may be that of shimmering beauty; the record aways feels on edge, placing a twinge of doubt in the listener's mind. Whether it's the squeals of an ancient decaying modem or a beat that rotates a little to quickly for comfort this is more than just a pretty album, this is a record with genuine bite. 2010 may have been a year where young Mr. Blake grabbed the headlines but Four Tet reminded us that ambient music's veterans are still streaks ahead of their mainstream competitors.

Few were predicting great things from Corinne Bailey Rae in 2010, her debut was the kind of bland radio friendly soul-lite that sells well but excites few. If few were predicting great things from Rae, then even fewer were predicting a bleak emotive power house of a record, but that's exactly what she delivered. It may on the surface of things appear like a stark change of direction, but in the four years since her self titled debut a lot changed in Rae's life. In 2008 her husband overdosed on methadone and alcohol, overcome by grief Rae became a recluse and didn't re-enter the studio until 2009. Not only did Rae return with a bleak but fiery attitude she also embarked on a series of bold stylistic alterations.

Vocally she began to smoulder on verses, while offering up dynamic variation of tone in the chorus; playing with blaring tonal contrasts. In the studio she said goodbye to isolation and introduced a live band to play at her side. The resulting record was tremendous. The playing felt loose and free. Tracks like "The Blackest Lily" sees the band jamming, letting rip when they feel like it, and generally having a good time. The result is a more organic feel. Of course when it comes time to be precise, as on the tragic but enticing "Love's On It's Way", the arrangements swell beautifully creating emotive peaks and troughs. Rae's ultimate evolution, however, comes as a songwriter. The Sea is dominated by tracks that just breathe, there are no short sharp hooks on tracks "Are You Here", instead mood and texture prevails as Rae finds herself happy to let emotional poignancy triumph over immediacy.

Sumach Ecks emerged in 2010, not only as one of the year's most exciting and forward thinking musicians, but as one of the year's great voices. As the hype machine cranked into action in January and February we quickly became prepared for some of the slickest and sexiest beats of the year. The gorgeous lo-fi, chilled, psychedelic hip hop beats that inspire on Am And A Killer draw comparisons as far a field as Bradford Cox, Raekwon and Goerge Harrison, or some on holy hybrid of the three (and hundreds of others), yet it was that cracking haunting vocal that really steals the show on Am And A Killer. Ecks is just fascinating, he captivates, one minute he's crooning like a soulful sage and next second we find him manically rambling like Tom Waits stampeding his way through Hyrule. Of course before you can settle down on an 8-bit groove he'll suddenly switch things up and introduce a barmy folk stomp. Trying to sum up the scope of Am And The Killer in just one paragraph is an impossibility. This is a record that if you dig deep enough will contain an element or a link to each and every record on this 100, and amazingly, despite these wildly contrasting influences,Ecks still manages to create some perfect pop moments, just try to resist "Deut", I dare you.

Who would have though the year's finest hip hop bassline would come courtesy a deep blast of Czech horn compliment by a thundering percussive attack by These New Puritans? Okay, so "Three Thousand" might not literally be a hip hop beat, but even Mr. West would have to concede that it was one of the year's most innovative and sexiest beats. Hidden as an album is full of contradictions, gimmicks and most importantly it was full of ambition. These New Puritans seemingly decided to go hard or go home with this effort; as they combine the smashing rhythmic attack of Sleigh Bells, with a full orchestra, a range of vocal harmonies, and some goofy quasi-rapped, quasi chanted vocals. The resulting sound was surprisingly groovy, intriguingly dark and oddly accessible.

Outside of "We Want War" and "Attack Music" there are little in the way of traditional singles to be found on Hidden (and it's not like either of those tracks are dance floor smashes) but for all the experimentation and all the counterintuitive lines of attack this is still and album that is fundamentally listen-able. While These New Puritans may have been aiming for the air of a maniacal religious cult, and they do achieve that goal, at times Hidden sounds genuinely hilarious. There is a wonderful playful humour to the brass arrangements and this is at heart a very cheeky LP. Big, bold, ambitious, artsy, accessible and charming Hidden is all these things, and more, and that accomplishment is not to be sniffed at.

Each year it seems an album comes out of left field to capture the world's attention. Records like Ali & Toumani, the type that stick out like a soar thumb in list's such as mine, are always impossible to place. Ali & Toumani is not representative of any scene, or a particular movement in popular culture (in fact it's almost by chance that his record ever came into existence), instead Ali & Toumani is the kind of record that leaves you transfixed. On your first listen you are struct by the gorgeous textures, the light and delicate instrumentation and the control of mood. On subsequent listens you begin to feel inspired, you mind becomes filled with possibilities, you draw connections, you see which artists have been inspired by the Mali sound, and you begin to wonder what the likes of Erza Koenig could create if he got his hands on a Malian Kora.

Credit must go to Nick Gold, as a producer he captured this session and persevered to secure the record's release. What he captured was the work of two season professionals just clicking together perfectly. Even in ill health Ali's bass work and timing were not diminished, while Toumani's flamenco back ground comes to the fore as he supplies some wonderfully vivid flourishes. Ali & Toumani is ultimately one of the year's airest and most inspiring offerings, a slew of final soundtrack offers doubtlessly await.

2010 saw the Roots not only come out of a retirement that no one quite believed in in the first place, but it saw the collective return in prolific form. One minute they were beefing up Duffy's sound on her comeback single "Well, Well, Well" the next they were teaming up with John Legend on the Wake Up. In amongst all this activity their actual return, How I Got Over, almost got lost in the shuffle. Excellence is expected when ever Questlove gets the gang together, so when they dropped what is effectively "just a Roots record" the music world seemed underwhelmed. Of course, while How I Got Over may not have pushed the boundaries of Hip Hop or offered anything particularly new, it instead settled for producing a string of brilliantly producer and precisely executed slices of divine hip hop.

Thoughtful and tight, those are the two words that best define How I Got Over. The Roots as a band are an incredibly slick unit. The beats and soft grooves flow effortlessly as you drift from one track to the next/ There is a breezy and engaging charm to The Root's music. Even as the vocalist and rappers change they manage to maintain a wonderful sends of tonal harmony, even as they switch from cutting political critiques to soulful introspection the overall work never fragments. You feel The Roots could do this in their sleep. How I Got Over is so calming and so considered, it has the feel of a mature work by an assortment of level headed deep thinkers. This approach may lack visceral punch but it more than compensates with bags full of heartfelt soul.

How To Dress Well is ghostly debut from R'n'B artist Tom Krell. Love Remains represents one of 2010's finest debuts as he married the more mediative and ethereal movements that have emerged from within baroque pop, indie and ambient music to his graceful R'n'B vocal tones. It irks me, and feels inaccurate, to label How To Dress Well, or any of his peers, Chillwave but it is the closest approximation to the sound he achieves on Love Remains. Krell is careful on this record to keep his vocals always slightly out of reach, there is a sense of distance between the performer and the consumer. We hear Krell speak in half heard whispers and on occasions, as on the beautiful "You Hold The Water" Krell's vocal will pierce the sonic fog that surrounds him creating the record's most poignant moments. There are clear shoegaze parallels in Krell's work, but he feels too at home with his on hazy sonic textures for that comparision to be apt. It is as if he's been overtaken by the soundscapes themselves. The skipping vocal samples that anchor "Ready For The World" occupy the foreground alongside screaming blasts of electro noise while Krell and the rhythm section appear adrift. Only on the album's one live track ("Walking The Dumb") does Krell appear to take the centre ground. Instead on the vast majority of Love Remains the listener is forced to revel in this sense of dislocation. The effect, while not always entirely clear, is continuously intriguing and surprisingly touching making Love Remains one of the year's most fascinating debuts.

"Just Don't Fall Recklessly Headlessly In Love With Me, Because It's Gonna Be All Heartbreak, Blissfully Painful and Insanity, If We Agree"; has declaring yourself damaged goods ever sounded so good? On "Hang With Me" Robyn warns her potential lover right at the outset that she's no good, they can have fun, they can sleep together, and everything will be fine as long as they go no further than friendship. Robyn naturally sets her stall out on her own terms, she may be chronically fucked up but at least she knows it, and her own emotional fragility in no way comprimises her strength of character on this sublime slice of electro pop. The electro-beat has a wonderful sense of rise and fall throughout the chorus while the verse is driven by a momentum filled beat that has the feel of determined footsteps. The whole package comes together perfectly; it's light in tone but not in thought.

"Dancing On My Own" on the other hand captures Robyn in equally resolute mood, but rather than dictating she finds herself in the corner of the dance floor bitterly dancing with tears in her eyes. In many ways "Dancing On My Own" is the classic break up song. Robyn has broken up with a guy and he's moved on to the next girl within seconds. Like a thousand foolhardy spurned lovers Robyn goes out to prove him wrong, to spy on her ex-lover and to win him back and to show his new floozy up. It goes as badly for Robyn as would for me, you or anyone else who has had these stupid and impulsive thoughts run through their head. The beat is very much secondary to a powerhouse performance by Robyn, her observations and her phrasing on this record are scarily perfect, from the tone to the intention, she nails every frayed emotion from "I'm Right Over Here, Why Can't You See Me?" to "I'm Just Gonna Dance All Night, I'm All Messed Up, So Outta Line, Stilettos And Broken Bottles, I'm Spinning Around In Circles". "Dancing On My Own" represents a feeling and ritual that so many of us have gone through but something that so few pop stars have managed to capture perfectly in verse.

It's amazing how something so simple and so minimal can have such a big impact. If I were listing the tracks that I'd listened to most this year "Dance Yrslf Cln" would have been the run away winner, and yet even after all those plays, and all that rotation that pitter patter beat and those big thudding slabs of synth still send shivers down my spine. As the album opener for This Is Happening "Dance Yrslf Cln" should have given the game of the way. Murphy feels tired, as if he and his friends are the last group left at the bar and its time for them to move on, not just to another bar, but with their lives as separate individuals. "Dance Yrslf Cln" therefore plays like a drunken and impassioned ramble, starting by cynically ranting about what is expected of him before lavishing praise upon his friends and cohorts, and cursing lost opportunity.

As Murphy notes "Everybody's Getting Younger", he's becoming dislocated in a young mans game and so much of his life and so many opportunities are passing him by. While the track may be framed as a heartfelt goodbye to friends, an apology to a lover and as a last hurrah, its not hard to see that "Dance Yrslf Cln" represents Murphy's own internal monologue as he prepares to call time on LCD Soundsystem. When he cries "Break Myself Into Bigger Pieces, So There's Part Of Me Home With You" it's clear that Murphy is weighing his options; wishing he could continue to have fun on the road but realizing he'll never have time to produce or run his label and as he points out, if you keep on waiting and putting things off "You Miss The Best Things To Do". Aside from all the self analysis and the obvious parallels "Dance Yrslf Cln" works beautifully a confused mid life crisis, a flippant rant, a sad goodbye, the decision to move on and most importantly that one final dance full of abandon. Wow, two whole paragraphs of analysis and I didn't mention that synth line, oh well, you undoubtedly know it by now, and if not, why not listen for yourselves...

Foals came on leaps and bounds in 2010. Yannis and co. wasted no time launching their follow up LP Total Life Forever with the divine lead single "Spanish Sahara". Gone were the jagged jerky rhythms and the odd time signatures. In their place was a mature piece of textured songwriting. "Spanish Sahara" wasn't the sound of a band being clever or pithy, this was the sound of a band painting in broad emotional brush strokes and being unafraid to be overcome by grief and bitterness. Surprisingly Foals committed so throughly to this new sonic template that you never doubted Yannis' delivery, not even for a second, as he laid out his feelings plainly and with unmistakable imagery ("Now I See You Lying There, Like A Lilo Loosing Air").

Musically, "Spanish Sahara" was allowed room to breath with a slow heartbeat of bass drum slowly guiding the track through a shimmering seven minutes. There is a bold sense of assuredness to Foals experimentation as they use natural sounds to give the sense of rushing air, breaking wavers and silvery reflective water. They conjure this beautiful sonic landscape that's rich in the imagery of the natural world but dominated by this looming sense of emotional isolation. It is as if Yannis were walking slowly across mountains or sitting on an empty beach staring lifelessly out of sea and watching grains of sand fall through his fingers. "Spanish Sahara" swells to a wonderful climax, as Yannis exclaims "A Choir Of Furies In Your Head, I'm The Ghost In The Back Of Your Head" you almost feel the track's protagonist breaking through to the surface and gasping for air as he overcomes, and unleashes, his internal torment.

When those eccentricities that served to define a singer's voice begins to disappear that usually signals the end of a prominent career; as a vocalist's unique selling point fades she essentially loses her edge. In 2010 Joanna Newsom lost her voice, the quirky story teller of the middle ages was gone, and in her place stood a tender, smoky and surprisingly sexy toned woman. Yet being Newsom, this wasn't the birth of a soul diva, that'd be too simple; those weird wobbles and that haunting strained tone that emanated from the back of Newsom throat still break their way through her croon adding character and giving tracks like "Easy" an unsettling ambiance.

Rather than sounding wicked or feeble, Newsom now sounds strong, enticing and all too convincing as she coos; "I Am Easy, Easy To Keep, Honey You Please Me Even In Yourself". This new half way house voice has a wonderful deceptive feel, she sounds sexy and subservient like a classic Motown diva, but she also sounds psychopathic, overly intense and so saccharine that she verges on bitterness as she reassures her lover that he has nothing to fear. Of course he should be fearful and Newsom unconditional love soon transforms itself as she sings beautifully but pointedly: "Who Asked You? Who Asked You If You Wanted To Be Loved By Me?". "Easy" represents Newsom at her best; weaving complex narratives, changing tone and mood at will, and singing in undeniably beautiful voice. You'll find it almost impossible not to fall for Newsom as she sweetly sings "I'm Your Little Life Giver".

Sometimes it feels good to take each of your fingers, ball them up real tight, and just punch the air, or the wall, hell kick the table, scream out aloud, and while your at it why not dance like a complete fucking idiot. "The Battle Of Hampton Roads" captures this feeling perfectly. It's all about frustration boiling over. It's about hating yourself. Hating the world. Hating everything. Because no matter where you look you see hypocrisy layered on top of more hypocrisy and fear. Of course most of us never do anything about it, we just sigh, or maybe we punch the wall, but we never say what we really want to say, and we never do anything, because the entire weight of human idiocy is a lot for one man to tackle, and who are we to tackle it, and on our own?

Well Titus Andronicus take all that pent up rage and scream it out. Their voice markedly cracks and quivers but they say it anyway. Delivering these absolute lyric gems in process; phrasing frustrations perfectly whether they be external: "The Things I Used To Hate I've Now Learnt To Respect", "Is There A Girl At This College Who Hasn't Been Raped, Is There Boy In This Town Who's Not Exploding With Hate", "Is There A Human Alive, Ain't Looked Themself In The Face Without Winking...Without Saying "What If Someone Don't Approve"?", "And Half The Time I Open My Mouth To Speak It's To Repeat Something I Heard On TV" .

Or Internal: "I'm As Much Of An Arse Hole As I've Ever Been And There Is Nothing About Myself That I Respect", "A Hand And A Napkin When I'm Looking For Sex", "There's No One To Talk To When I'm Feeling Depressed, So Now When I Drink, I'm Going Drink To Excess" and "I Want To Spit The Face Of Your Idea Of Success". Sometimes it just helps to get it all out right? Even if your throats pretty soar afterwards.

On occasion an artist pulls off something so magnificent that you just take a step back and admire its eccentricities and its grandeur. The scope of "Impossible Soul" is mammoth, the three part epic serves as the 25 minute closer to Sufjan's latest offering Age Of Adz. With this single mini-opus Stevens manages to capture the adventurous spirit and the essence of invention that exudes from Age Of Adz's every pour. There is a wonderful sprawling and theatrical thread to "Impossible Soul" as Sufjan is drawn across the entire sonic spectrum of his work; with blaring horns, pulsating laser blasts, hovering sirens, spiraling strings, booming synths, tender plucked guitar, thunderous bass, multi-part harmonies, evil auto-tune, and seemingly everything else in his and his orchestras repertoire.

Yet as Stevens himself cries: "Don't Get Distracted"; and as a reviewer it's easy to get lost evaluating one section, or one movement of this sprawling piece. There is so much going on, and the auto-tune quasi-R'n'B breakdown and the mid track electro-squelch backed big chant along chorus are so distinct and so far removed from the track's ethereal opening that it becomes easy to forget that this is just one piece. It feels like a world unto itself, and entire EP's worth of ideas, sounds, hooks and themes, and yet its not. "Impossible Soul" is just one very long and very brilliant track. Full of crescendos and standout moments; whether it's lamenting the impossible soul or crying out "Boy We Can Do Much More Together" Sufjan has created an incredibly engaging work that never bores, and never strains the listener. There is so much to enjoy that you end up wishing certain sections would last that little bit longer or be entire tracks in their own right.

If "Impossible Soul" were to be condensed down into one motto it would be oft echoed refrain of "It's Not So Impossible". "Impossible Soul" is a track that for all its bewildering scope and its insurmountable sense of artistic accomplishment still manages to inspire. Encouraging the listener to lose him or herself in the music, and to revel in the recognition of how much can be achieved if you just try.

Now that is a tough act to follow, but then again, Kanye West has never struggled to overcome expectation. In fact, he spent the vast majority of 2010 whipping up buzz and playing the role of the crazed hype man. His promises were so ridiculous, his ambition so huge and his publicity stunts so ludicrous (and so groan inducing) that he simply had to deliver. "Power" set the stage perfectly, it was a tub thumping lead single that showed remarkable promise with its sublime production and its nods to prog rocks rich history of innovation, but it was merely a stage setter for what was to come. "Runaway" dropped, if that's even the right word, with a 45 minute art house music video/movie that was at times staggeringly beautifully (see the "Runaway" dance scene) and at times cringe inducingly bad (see all of Kanye's acting). Yet behind all this silliness and behind all the pomp laid one of the most awe inspiring works of the past decade.

The solemn strikes of a solitary piano key set the stage for an exploration of emotional fragility from one of the music world's biggest and most bloated egos. The production was haunting, "Runaway" was the kind the of track that sent shivers down your spine before you could even wrap your head around its lyrical content. At the track's heart was a cocky superstar who despite his fame and superstardom was and is a complete screw up at love and romance. Who when coming to terms with his own deepest emotions is just as confused and scared as the rest of us; whether than manifests itself in sending his bitch a picture of his dick or pleading for his lover to just run away before she gets tangled up in his web of emotionally infancy.

"I Was Never Much Of A Romantic, I Couldn't Handle The Intimacy", that one line sums up the entire track; "Runaway" is a toast to idiotic lovers, who screw everything up, who make the wrong decisions and can't stop themselves from thinking the wrong thoughts. It's the essence of self centred romantic self destruction. Ultimately, it's one of the year's most human tracks from one of world's most inhuman and unlikable egos.

"Runaway's" best, however, is saved till last; as biting strings accompany that solitary piano line Kanye's voice is ripped and distorted by auto-tune. Everything comes crumbling down, into one painful, drawn out mess. It's frustrating, heartbreaking, and completely unavoidable; "Runaway" trudges on with this sense of decaying beauty, a last soaring ode to what has been lost and what has been wasted because of our own, and his own, stunted emotional inadequacy. C'est Magnifique.