As I previously wrote, 2007 was an exceptional year for music. So exceptional in fact, that even after making a list of the top ten albums of the year, I find it necessary to point out more highlights from this bygone year. As the title suggests, the songs on this list/mix are featured on albums that would be worthy of top ten placement in year less strong, but for 2007, they’ll have to settle for this.

1. The Twilight Sad- “Cold Days From The Birdhouse” (From Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters)
6:13
Truthfully, I’m a sucker for a Scottish accent.

2. Super Furry Animals- “Run-Away” (From Hey Venus)
2:51
Between the acquittal and this homage, Phil Spector had a pretty good year.

3. Blitzen Trapper- “Wild Mountain Nation” (From Wild Mountain Nation)
2:42

4. Kevin Drew- “Fucked Up Kid” (From Spirit If…)
5:09

5. Les Savy Fav- “The Equestrian” (From Let’s Stay Friends)
3:28

6. Big Business- “Just As The Day Was Dawning” (From Here Come The Waterworks)
4:14

7. Liars- “Houseclouds” (From Liars)
3:21

8. A Sunny Day In Glasgow- “5:15 Train” (From Scribble Mural Comic Journal)
4:12

9. Radiohead- “Nude” (From In Rainbows)
4:15
Frankly, I’m just happy to have an actual studio version of this song.

10. Feist- “The Limit To Your Love” (From The Reminder)
4:21

11. The Shins- “Turn On Me” (From Wincing The Night Away)
3:42
Unquestionably, my most listened-to song of the year.

12. Gui Boratto- “Beautiful Life” (From Chromaphobia)
8:31
If you’re driving with this song on, I recommend you watch your speed.

13. The New Pornographers- “Go Places” (From Challengers)
4:27
Not to sound overly defensive or narrow-minded, but a plague on the house of Pitchforkmedia.com for their 6.0 review of Challengers, and referring to this song as a “Neko-wasting tune.”

14. Modest Mouse- “Missed The Boat” (From We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank)
4:27

15. Angels Of Light- “Star Chaser” (From We Are Him)
5:50

16. Arcade Fire- “No Cars Go” (From Neon Bible)
5:44
An argument in favor of melodrama.

17. Bill Callahan- “The Wheel” (From Woke On A Whaleheart)
4:04
This lo-fi perennial underdog never gets the credit he deserves. I ain’t forgot ya, (Smog).

Maybe we were playing closer attention this year, maybe we’ve become less discerning, but 2007 sure seemed to be an exceptional year for music. Certain bands that I hold dear put out fantastic albums that, in a less superlative year, may have sat at the top of this list. So with apologies to, amongst others, Liars, the Shins, Les Savy Fav, Feist, Bill Callahan, Arcade Fire, El-P, the New Pornographers, Aesop Rock, Gui Boratto, the Twilight Sad, Buirut, Angels of Light…here’s my top ten of 2007.

10. Band of Horses- Cease To Begin
It takes some balls to be as unabashedly sincere as Band of Horses are on their sophomore album. What’s more, it takes considerable smarts to carry it off without becoming saccharine, and in this respect, Cease To Begin is a triumph. Ben Bridwell’s has the sort of luminous voice that is equally at home with gorgeous slow-burners (”No One’s Gonna Love You,” “The Marry Song”), as it is with mini-epic, fist-pump fodder (”The General Specific,” “Islands On The Coast”). Kinda hard to believe this is only the guy’s second try at writing songs.

9. Okkervil River- The Stage Names
If you think Okkervil River take themselves to seriously, you’re probably right. It seems unlikely you’ll ever hear the band record anything that sounds tossed-off and whimsical, but for a band that traffics in high-minded concept albums, The Stage Names sure is a lot of fun. If you didn’t smile the first time you heard “John Allyn Smith Sails” turn into “Sloop John B,” or find anything exhilarating about “Unless It’s Kicks,” then you’re missing the band’s devotion to rock & roll’s more primal elements. It’s understandable to miss, but with The Stage Names, Okkervil River showed that one can be literary and visceral without diluting either quality.

8. Iron & Wine- The Shepherd’s Dog
I was pretty sure I had Iron & Wine figured out. After debuting with the beautifully spare The Creek Drank The Cradle, Sam Beam had little choice but to expand his sound, because there was certainly no going in the other direction. Each subsequent album found Beam playing with a couple more musicians than the album previous. Suffice to say, his career trajectory looked somewhat predictable, and The Shepherd’s Dog doesn’t break Beam’s “new album, bigger band” formula, but it does surprise by being surprisingly adventurous and uniformly well-written. Beam is still one of the more heartbreaking lyricists our modern times offer, but the real surprise on this album is how sophisticated his arrangements have become (much credit goes to invaluable producer, Brian Deck). Beam’s ability to pay homage to West African musicians like Ali Farka Toure without making a fool of himself is unquestionably impressive. The fact that he’s able to infuse this difficult genre with his own western touch without sacrificing the quality of either is a downright miracle.

7. M.I.A- Kala
Forgetting the rest of the album for a moment, was there a song this year that could even touch the Clash-sampling “Paper Planes,” ridiculous gun shots and all? The answer is obviously a resounding no, and what’s more, the song’s parent album, Kala, was absolutely loaded, loaded, with moments like it. New Order samples butting up against singing indigenous children butting up against sweeping Bollywood strings, and through it all, M.I.A, by turns angry, silly, sarcastic, righteous, makes a flat-out masterpiece out of what could have easily ended up sounding overly indulgent and goofy.

6. Spoon- Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
I’ve previously ranted about “The Underdog” and how it should have been a huge hit for Spoon. I won’t go into my reoccurring disappointment over Spoon failing to conquer the pop charts yet again, even as they release fantastic single after fantastic single. For now, I’ll just focus on positive things. For example, Spoon have yet again made their peers on modern rock radio look comparitively foolish. So creative are Spoon that they need not ever tamper too drastically with their ingredients. Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga doesn’t sound radically different from any of the band’s previous work, save for the occasional horn section, yet it is all so completely fresh and innovative. Shouldn’t this band be running out of interesting ways to play taut, hip-shaking rock by now?

5. Sunset Rubdown- Random Spirit Lover
Why are critics shutting out this album? I have yet to see it in a year-end best of 2007 list, and I am completely baffled. Spin Magazine even went so far as to commend the Handsome Furs’ Plague Park (an excellent album) by noting that lead singer Dan Boechner (also of Wolf Parade) doesn’t flood the market with albums as Spencer Krug (of Wolf Parade and lead singer of Sunset Rubdown) does. Is that the problem? Krug releases too much music? Should Krug apologize for being prolific? Is it absurd and unappreciative for a critic to chastise a songwriter for having too much too offer?
I would contend yes to the last question. I have opined that Ryan Adams should release maybe a fraction of the music he does, but that’s because he either has dishonest handlers or he truly believes every goddamn song he writes needs to be heard, when in actuality, he’s typically mediocre and occasionally exceptional. But Krug? In the short time I’ve been aware of him, he has written or co-written several of the best albums this decade has to offer, and he has yet to release anything short of exemplary, and Random Spirit Lover is no exception. Finding the album difficult is understandable (It has more going on per song than any album since, I don’t know, ever?), and I don’t pretend to fully understand it all, but it deserves, at the very least, admiration. It is one of those albums that is a world unto itself. There’s no real point in using it as background music, because there’s nothing to be gleaned from it with half-assed attention. Random Spirit Lover does indeed demand a lot of the listener, but eventually, the spiraling melodies and complicated arrangements cease to be confusing and inspire nothing short of slack-jawed awe.

4. The National- Boxer
In contrast to Sunset Rubdown, the National’s Boxer has not been hard to find on most critic’s year-end lists, and not without good reason. The music is fairly universal. Dark, but far from gloomy, propulsive without being abrasive, pretty, but not wimpy, Boxer toes an elegant line. Lead singer Matt Berninger manages the difficult feat of writing lyrics that are relatable without being too straightforward and poetic without being pretentious, all delivered in an aged scotch of a baritone. But this is a full band album, clearly written piece by carefully constructed piece, every moment integral, creating one of the few albums that you could call “graceful” and “controlled” and still play at a party.

3. Animal Collective- Strawberry Jam/Panda Bear-Person Pitch
Fusing these two together is easy and cheap, but I really didn’t want to leave any of the other albums in the top ten out, and I certainly was not going to overlook these two. I’d like to be the first reviewer to discuss Person Pitch and not use the words “swirling psychedelia” or “hypnotic loops” or “warped pop” or “Brian Wilson,” but…Panda Bear’s use of hypnotic loops creates a feeling of swirling psychedelia that’s reminiscent of the warped pop of Brian Wilson. Actually, I can’t say I’ve really heard the Brian Wilson stuff, but the album is truly a wonder, a reverb-heavy joy.
The other damn near album of the year Panda Bear released was with Animal Collective. Vocally, Strawberry Jam was all
Avey Tare, and if nothing else, the album should make everyone appreciate his range. Avey Tare proved himself the only singer who can make screechy and nasal sound charming. But the magic of Strawberry Jam is the way Animal Collective can make a perfect pop song out of a bunch of half-baked, wild ideas (”Peacebone,” “Fireworks”), or they can follow an even weirder muse (”Cuckoo Cuckoo”), or they can just simply sit down and write a pretty little song (”Derek”) and somehow it all fits seamlessly on the same album.
Oh, and I like Avey Tare and Kria Brekken’s Pullhair Rubeye the way it was released, and so far, I seem to be the only person in the world who feels this way. I’d be happy to hear of other people who like it too.

2. LCD Soundsystem- Sound Of Silver
Sound Of Silver marked a turning point for LCD Soundsystem. Sure, the band’s debut album was a well-crafted damn good time, but dance rock and complaints about scenesters can only carry a band so far. Unsurprisingly, Sound Of Silver is epic dance rock, party music of the highest order. I’d dare say Remain In Light has a worthy successor. Surprisingly, beneath all the (cow)bells and whistles, Murphy is a devastating lyricist: touching, funny, nostalgic, sarcastic without being snide. It will be a while before another album of dance music will carry this sort of emotional heft, or an album as affecting as this one will make you want to dance as unabashedly.

1. Battles- Mirrored
I can’t say I have a method for determining what landed in this position on the list. All I can say is Battles debut, Mirrored, was the album with the most “Holy Fuck!” moments. No record quite captured my attention on the first listen and then maintained that rapture on each subsequent listen quite like this one.
There’s no real easy way to describe this album. I don’t know. Picture a bunch of seasoned metal veterans on peyote, or the Muppets let loose in a steel mill. That lame analogy goes maybe a fraction of a percent of describing a couple of moments on this album. What you should know is that this is a colossal album, a perfect fusion of technical virtuosity and restless ingenuity, made by a bunch of metal players who love their pedals and keys as much as their guitars. Wrapping your head around it isn’t easy at first, but you’re going to want to.

That’s all for the albums. Coming soon will be a mix of great songs from this year that were featured on albums that almost made the list, honorable mentions, etc.

Well, the year is wrapping up and round-up lists are popping up just about everywhere. We’ll have ours up soon. We promise, but for now, here’s something ridiculous I saw on Pitchforkmedia.com today. They claim it’s been around for a while, but this was my first exposure to it. Anyway, I repeat, our year-end lists are on the way, but for now, enjoy Kermit (the frog) performing the Talking Heads classic “Once In A Lifetime.”

Last week NME printed an interview with Morrissey that seemed to suggest that Morrissey took issue with the high population of immigrants in England. According to Morrissey, the published interview grossly mischaracterizes the nature of his comments, and he demanded a printed apology. When one was not forthcoming, Morrissey decided to sue.
I can’t say I really cared too much when the first part of this story hit the news. Morrissey being potentially bigoted was a tad peculiar, since I’m under the misguided impression that all artists I admire must consequently share all of my worldviews, but it didn’t really catch my attention. Well, Morrissey has since written a lengthy explanation to the Guardian, the text of which can be read here. To those who are of the opinion that Morrissey’s pen has lost it’s edge over the years, I urge you to read this letter. It’s a brilliantly written, acid-tongued, sarcastic as hell retort that should cause NME a considerable amount of embarrassment. Highlights are too numerous to print, but my favorite section would have to be where Morrissey takes NME’s editor, Conor McNicholas, to task for almost exclusively printing interviews with mostly mediocre garage bands all toting the same boring shtick:

“It is true that the magazine is ailing badly in the marketplace, but Conor doesn’t understand how the relentless stream of “cheers mate, got pissed last night, ha ha” interviews that clutter every single issue of the ‘new’ NME are simply not interesting to those of us who have no trouble standing upright.”

Enjoy!

Don’t get too excited. The shows are on the other side of the Atlantic, but My Bloody Valentine in the United Kingdom is better than no My Bloody Valentine anywhere (try and graph that sentence). According to this, the quintessential shoegazers will be playing London, Manchester, and Glasgow this coming summer. For those wondering what the big deal is, I recommend you read any retrospective on the music of the 1990’s that has appeared in any magazine or on any website. We’re guessing you’re going to see My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless on or near the top of every list you read.

All serious music fans have that one band or song or album that provided that necessary wake-up call that told us, “Hey, maybe I don’t have to spend all my time pissed off about the shitty, shitty sounds that emanate out of Top-40 radio like toxic ooze. Maybe there is a whole world of interesting and challenging music out there, made by people with more interest in pushing boundaries than in appealing to the least common denominator.�
My album was Instrument Soundtrack by Fugazi. I bought it in a Border’s Books and Music because I wanted to try something new and Eddie Vedder insisted Fugazi’s music was life-changing. Plus, it was cheap. Ten dollars or so, and I couldn’t have given less of a shit why.
The irony of the situation is not the least bit lost on me, which I will attempt to elucidate by summarizing the event in a run-on sentence. I was buying my first, for lack of a term as useful for my current purposes, “indie� rock album in a branch of the second-largest bookstore chain in America because the lead singer of one of the top-selling bands of the 90’s insisted that the band whose album I was purchasing was worthwhile. Furthermore, the band, Fugazi, was as staunchly anti-corporation as any band I’d heard of at the time, and maybe since.
Oh, and the album was all instrumental music and, as it turns out, not at all suggestive of what the band usually sounds like, something I learned when I picked up my second Fugazi album, the kinetic yet sophisticated (at least by punk standards) Red Medicine. The album’s opening track, “Do You Like Me,� was startling, to say the least.
No matter, I loved what I heard. My familiarity with Fugazi has grown and I now know that Instrument Soundtrack is an outlier for the band. Fugazi are the band all serious punk bands aspire to, both for their musical adventurousness and peerless ethics. Nonetheless, Instrument Soundtrack is my favorite album of theirs. As great as Red Medicine and In On the Kill Taker and 13 Songs (and on and on) may be, they are all driven by a palpable purposefulness, a desire to rattle the listener out of their presumed ennui. In short, there’s more to it than just music for music’s sake, which is what makes the band special, but what makes Instrument Soundtrack such a unique and charming album is that it finds these seemingly humorless guys simply fucking around. There’s barely anything on the album that qualifies as a complete song, but that’s just part of the album’s ramshackle charm. Plus, we got “I’m So Tired,� a song that’s flat-out beautiful, and not just by Fugazi standards.
It also didn’t hurt that I was learning the bass guitar at the time, and the album was loaded, loaded, with excellent, infinitely repeatable bass lines, particularly on the album closer “Slo Crostic.â€� Instrument Soundtrack is probably the only album that I used to teach myself bass guitar that I still listen to. Can’t say I have had much use for Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californication nor Rush’s Exit…Stage Left in quite some time. Come to think of it, I haven’t had much use for any of the music either of those bands produced since I was listening to them in high school, but I suppose it’s a testament to how much horrible singing and horrible lyrics one can ignore when trying to learn the bass. Suffice to say, all of my Rush and RHCP memories are relegated to the deepest, cavernous corners of my psyche, comfortably filed next to my memories of a fat, awkward puberty and the majority of what I was taught in Hebrew school.
Anyway, that’s my none-too-interesting recollection of my descent into music snobbery. Plus you got to hear about my uncomfortable adolescence, a topic I only discuss when I’m trying to be charmingly self-deprecating, which means I’ll talk about it anytime. I am curious to hear what albums, songs, or bands were crucial to others in shaping their musical taste, so any feedback would be appreciated.

“You live on in me.”

Sounds innocent enough. Downright heartwarming, actually. It’s the sort of sentiment that, in the wrong hands, can end up sappy. But fans of Michael Gira know that, whether as the unsettling and violent Swans or the unsettling and rootsy Angels of Light, he will never descend into maudlin pap. More to the point, in his hands, the line becomes borderline threatening, as is proven when the lyric repeatedly appears at the end of “Star Chaser,” which concludes their most recent album, We Are Him.

The Angels of Light (pretty much Michael Gira backed by Akron/Family) have fallen into a enviable groove. We Are Him, does little that their previous album, The Angels of Light Sing “Other People,” didn’t already do, but that does not mean it’s not a worthwhile release. At the moment, I still give the edge to …Sing “Other People”, but I have not spent nearly as much time with We Are Him as Gira’s releases deserve. Nonetheless, it’s easy to tell that We Are Him merits repeat listens.

“Star Chaser” is an immediate highlight of We Are Him, perfectly marrying Gira’s recent affection for classic tones and textures with his ability to create hypnotic, ominous drones. The first half of the song is standard fare for the Angels of Light: glacial pacing, haunted lyrics (”the scar still remains,” “still sleep with your knife”), warm guitars, but it’s the second half of the song where “Star Chaser” really makes it’s impression. Gira repeatedly intones the above-mentioned lyric in his distinct and ghostly baritone. The guitars become ethereal, and new voices fade in and out. Like many Angels of Light songs, it’s entrancing, almost alarmingly so, because the void is so apparent once the song is complete. Then again, that’s the essence of Michael Gira’s power as a songwriter: the experience is disturbing and disorienting yet somehow eerily soothing, and it always calls the listener back to it.

I know this happened over three months ago, but I just found this video. Here, in all it’s glory, is 77 Boadrum.

For the uninitiated, I recommend getting yourself acquainted with the Boredoms. To fully explain the way these Japanese noise-rock geniuses manipulate sound into a sonic mind-fuck of an aural experience is beyond my limited abilities as a writer. Just listen to Super Are. If you’re not intrigued, then I can’t say I understand, but I respect your decision. If you, like any right-thinking person, decide that you need to find out more about the band, then I recommend trying Vision Creation Newsun. From there, you’re on your own.

As far as the video is concerned, head Boredom mad scientist Eye Yamataka decided to assemble 77 drummers at Empire-Fulton Ferry State Park in Brooklyn on July 7, 2007 (7-7-07, get it?) to create what was described as “one giant instrument.” As the video shows, drummers from a variety of bands (including Lightning Bolt, Sunburned Hand of the Man, and Gang Gang Dance) showed up to assist. By all accounts, this was a mindblowing experience that this video surely doesn’t do appropriate justice, but it’s better than nothing.

Metal is really fun. Where else can grown men and women bang on instruments, scream at the top of their lungs, and sing about dragons and werewolves and be taken seriously? Metal albums, that’s where. For me, the metal stereotype was represented by those quiet kids in high school that no one really talked to and wore the same Metallica or Black Sabbath shirts to school every day. Of course, like all good stereotypes, that was terribly wrong. Metallica and Black Sabbath are probably always going to be considered the main stream versions of metal, but there is so much more than them.

Of course there are plenty of readers out there that will say, “Yes, you are correct, metal rocks, but tell me something I don’t know.” Well, for all of those metal heads out there this article is not going to be for you. Consider this a primer for new metal albums released in the last year that music fans not familiar with metal might enjoy. Below are my five favorite metal albums to come out in the last 12-18 months that all serious music fans should consider picking up.

1. Big Business - “Here Come The Waterworks”

Like all good metal albums, themes can run the gambit from mythological to morbid. On “Here Comes The Water Works”, Big Business roll the dice and try their chops at songs that are more sorrowful. Even though the lyrics in some of the songs take on this more sorrowful tone, that does not mean HCTWW does not rock. For a band made up of a bass player and drummer, they sure do make a ton of noise. Tracks like “Just as the Day was Dawning” and “Another Beautiful Day in the Pacific Northwest” might showcase the group’s stoner metal influences but the album does just as good a job showing their varying influences like the punk-ish song “Hands Up”.

2. Jesu - Silver

And speaking of stoner metal, Jesu’s fantastic EP “Silver”, released in 2006, is a brilliant launching point for indie rock fans wishing to get into metal. Critics like to say that Jesu is what My Bloody Valentine would have sounded like if they listen to more metal. The shoegaze influence is obviously there, but it goes a little bit past that. “Silver” is much richer in texture and sound then most shoegaze albums and the intensity of it is what sets it apart from any average shoegaze or metal album.

Fronted by Jason Broadrick of Birmingham, England, Jesu is a sludge metal grinding dream. Elements of metal, rock, stoner metal, and even electronica are all thrown into the pot. These ingredients are all mixed together to create a sound that is one of a kind - violent and forceful while also being soft and welcoming. Somewhat metal, somewhat industrial, and little electronic, “Silver” is a wonderful album that almost any music fan should enjoy.

3. The Austerity Program - Black Madonna

The Austerity Program describe themselves as a punk band on their website but that description seems to be a little lost on me. In fact, it doesn’t do them nearly enough justice. This two-piece from New York seems to be on a mission to destroy ear-drums. Which is one thing, but to do it in the technical firestorm way that they do it, is something completely different. Imagine Don Cab or the new Battles album turned up to 11 with a little less math-rocky moments and you might get an idea of what “Black Madonna” is about. Coming in at just under 45 minuets, “Black Madonna” is a balls-to-the-wall metal/rock album that wants to melt your brain.

4. Boris - Pink

This is all you need to know about Boris: they are some drudge-metal loving musicians from Japan and they have an album called “Amplifier Worship”. Oh, and that they are awesome and 2006’s “Pink” captures this in spades. If you are the sort of fan that wants your album/band to ably play a bunch of different styles, then this album is right up your alley. “Pink” is drudge, metal, psychedelic, minimalistic, and rock all rolled into one. Nothing seems to capture this better than the first two songs on the album “Farewell” and “Pink”. “Farewell” could be from any Sigur Ros album and “Pink” is what Iggy Pop wanted the last Stooges album to sound like. Musicians that are obvious masters of their instruments, Boris is a band who is going to put out years of solid albums to come.

5. Mastodon - Blood Mountain

Well, what has not been said about Blood Mountain yet that I can say. It’s great. Full of face-melting guitar parts and intricate harmonies and melodies, “Blood Mountain” seems to be the pinnacle of metal over the course of the last two years. Released in 2006 to critical acclaim across the board, “Blood Mountain” seems to be one of those rare albums that appeal not only to its fan base but to all serious music fans. On yeah, and they sing about wolves, whales, monsters, and giants. What more do you really want?

“Blood Mountain”’s most impressive feat might be the numerous musical stylings throughout. The listener is never able to get too comfortable in a song’s styling and structure before the carpet is ripped out from under them and they are thrown into a new one. “Blood Mountian” is highly recommended for anyone who wants to hear what the best metal band out there right now sounds like.

“Is There A Ghost,” the lead single from Band Of Horses forthcoming Cease To Begin, doesn’t have very much going for it. The song is three minutes long, consists of three chords, and is fourteen words long, which I have more than enough room to list in their entirety:

“I could sleep (x4)/when I lived alone/Is there a ghost in my house?”

That’s just about it. Those lines are repeated twice before the full band kicks in. Once the band joins in, the lyrics are repeated another two times. The song ends with a brief, pseudo-guitar solo, and that’s all there really is to “Is There A Ghost.” Yet for some reason, this is the first song I have to hear when I wake up, and it gets played several times during the day before I make it back to bed. I can’t say I know why. The melody is fairly memorable, I suppose, inasmuch as there is only two lines to remember. I pretty much memorized the song when I saw Band Of Horses open for Modest Mouse back in August, and if the song can be memorized when heard for the first time live, then how complicated can it be? It could be that BOH lead singer Ben Bridwell has one of the most luminous voices in indie rock, and the melody, though uncomplicated, gives his voice a chance to soar over the instrumentation. In short, I’m cautious to call a song this simple “great,” but there has to be something great about it that keeps me returning to it.

The other song off Cease To Begin I’m reviewing today is called “Detlef Schrempf.” Why did I choose to review this song in particular? Well, that’s easy. Because it’s fucking called “Detlef Schrempf.” I decided to review it before I even heard it simply because it immediately reminded me of “NBA Live 95″ on Sega Genesis. I had to know why BOH would write a song about the former Pacer/Supersonic (I didn’t have to look that up!) from Germany (I did have to look that up, though. Thanks, Wikipedia!)

Well, the song, from what I can tell, has absolutely nothing to do with Detlef Schrempf which, in retrospect, is disappointing but not all that surprising. It’s anyone’s guess how one would even approach writing a song about Schrempf. Lyrics about moving to the U.S. while a junior in high school (again, hats off, Wikipedia)? Or perhaps singing about playing basketball at the University of Washington while majoring in International Business (fuck it, here)?

Then again, I don’t have to, as I’ve never named a song “Detlef Schrempf,” so I don’t have to worry about such lofty matters. And, far as anyone can tell, no one held a gun to Band Of Horses’ collective heads and forced them to name the song after Schrempf. So what’s the story, BOH? I’m not unreasonable. Had you never named a song after Schrempf, I sincerely doubt I’d long for a song about him, but now it’s out there. All I can do is pine for what might have been had BoH gone full hog and wrote a song about Schrempf. All I’m saying is I want Band Of Horses to handle my expectations with a little more care.

But I’ve ranted long enough without giving you any information about the song (except what it’s not about), so let’s get to it. “Detlef Schrempf” is probably a far better example of what Cease To Begin sounds like than “Is There A Ghost.” That is to say, “Detlef Schrempf” is restrained and warm, befitting the album’s serene cover art (I mean, just look at that thing. You can practically hear the crickets). It’s based around a simple Hammond Organ line and Bridwell’s country-leaning harmonies, which certainly matches up with Bridwell’s assertion that Cease To Begin is a little more “down-home” than Everything All The Time. Basically, it’s a pretty little ballad on an album with more than it’s fair share of those. It’s nice to have songs like this to remind people who claim to listen to “everything but country” that, although the most popular country music of the last two decades does indeed peerlessly suck, that’s no reason to write the genre off entirely.

As far as the whole song title thing goes, Band Of Horses, all will be forgiven if the next album has a song that is called, and about, Toni Kukoc.