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To: Sqwubbsy@aol.com
From: Mike Hess
Subj: For the love of Jeebus
Hurry the hell up with your new column! Slow, lazy fuckers.
Ahem. Sorry for the delay. Would you believe . . . John Ashcroft ate our homework? Erm, the "Slammer Worm" maybe?
OK, OK. As our friends, editors and faithful readers know, recapping the previous annus -- huh-huh . . . we said "annus" -- has always been WHAD's Monster in a Box (or The Runaway Soul, if you prefer). See, normally we're full of hate. But this column is all about the love. And love is much, much harder. Just ask our girlfriends.
Anyway, we're deeply moved that fans like Mike (and where is the new Social B record already?) missed us so. We're also impressed that so many of you guessed our Album of the Year, or at least picked something in our Top Ten (i.e., the Lips).
Anyway, List-O-Mania! 2001 wasn't finished until Valentine's Day, so consider yourselves lucky. Bottom line, we're giving you more than enough column here to make this a "triple-issue" (even if the RS accounting department doesn't share that view).
MAN OF THE YEAR
Joss Whedon
We're not wrong often, but this is the wrongest we've ever been in
the history of wrong. While we never went so far as to declare
Buffy utter crap, we basically ignored it -- in large part
due to EW's beatification. Well, through the miracle of
DVD and eBay, we've not only caught up with the rest of the world,
we're totally geeked fans. And having watched the whole thing in a
matter of mere months, we can confidently say that Season Six was
as good as anything since Season Three, from "Once More With
Feeling" to Big Bad Willow to all that dirty (yet
deeply moving) Spike-sex.
And go figure: when Michael informed Jason of his wonderful discovery, his flip response was, "Does this mean you have to watch Angel too?" D'oh!
Counting Firefly -- which we watched from the start, for all the good it did us -- Young Master Whedon's creative output in 2002 was more inspired than David Chase, Steven Spielberg, Bright Eyes and Marc Shaiman put together.
KRUGMAN OF THE YEAR
Paul Krugman
This is the first time in List-O-Mania's storied history that
Michael hasn't come out on top, but we must give credit where
credit's due. Not only is Paul -- no relation, incidentally -- an
unstoppable fly in Dim Son's ointment, he's the
only honest man at the Old Grey Lady. Personal to PK: make sure
your hard drive is clean of dirty pictures, so Turd
Blossom's black ops can't give you the Scott
Ritter treatment.
ANTI-KRUGMAN OF THE YEAR
Tucker Carlson
While Karl Rove is plainly the Biggest Evildoer
Alive, this dishonor goes to the self-righteous, sanctimoniously
stupid co-host of Crossfire. Once a vaguely credible
journo, "Sucker" now exists solely to spew the Republican Talking
Points being pumped into his tight WASP ass. How WHAD heroes
James Carville and Paul Begala
don't climb across the desk to pummel this prick's grotesquely smug
face every time he interrupts them or attempts to demagogue an
issue is beyond us. There are few people on Earth we'd like to
"Begbie" quite as much.
MUY BUENO EL CINEMA DE LA ANO
Y Tu Mama Tambien
Runner-up: Jackass
Two homoerotic masterpieces about friendship and class struggle.
Close to home, though we try to avoid looking at each other's nuts
as much as possible.
BEST FILM VERSION OF A SUSAN ORLEAN ARTICLE
Blue Crush
OK, it's no masterpiece, but at least the third act makes
sense.
CRIME AGAINST CINEMA, CRIME AGAINST ART, CRIME AGAINST MARSHALL
MATHERS
8 Mile
We knew it would be paint-dryingly dull -- God only knows why, but
we've seen the entire Curtis Hanson oeuvre. Still,
we were unprepared for the mind-blowing magnitude of
Em's sellout. Yeah, yeah, he loves his kid sister,
but ain't no way the Real Slim Shady is defending women and gay
guys against Xzibit. Plus, the finale is a total
wash -- Bunny Rabbit wins by default? C'mon! Paradise Hawaiian
Style was less emasculating to its lead, for crissakes.
DVD OF THE YEAR
Powell and Pressburger's The Life and Death of
Colonel Blimp
We've waited a long, long time for a fully restored version of this
Technicolor masterpiece of love, war and old age, and those fine
folks at Criterion finally obliged. Now when do we get A
Canterbury Tale and A Matter of Life and Death?
Runner-up: The History of Beavis and Butthead, though we haven't yet forked over the hundred clams on eBay to find out for certain.
WRITER OF THE YEAR
Fiction: Jasper Fforde
Non-Fiction: Martin Newell
It's shocking to us that The Eyre Affair, Thursday
Next's side-splitting adventure through life, love,
literature and the space-time continuum, hasn't achieved massive
cult status here. Imagine Neil Gaiman writing "The
Kugelmass Episode." Fforde returns to U.S. bookstores soon with the
equally hilarious and inventive Lost in a Good Book.
As for Mr. Newell, the Godfather of Soil's witty, wise and wonderful memoir, This Little Ziggy, is the best book of its kind since Our Julian's Head On. As if that weren't enough, he released Radio Autumn Attic, one of his finest-ever collections of endlessly endearing and eccentric jingle jangle guit-pop and a bounty of brilliant poems, such as "In Harness to Status Quo" (Sample Couplet: "In four decades of E-A-D/They must at least have toyed with G"). The Greatest Living Englishman? Quite possibly.
ALL TV IS GOOD
Best New Show: Boomtown. Basically, if
you helped write Speed, you did real good stuff this
year.
Totally Taken for Granted: NYPD Blue, Ed, That '70s Show and Futurama, all still on their game.
SCARY COUPLE OF THE YEAR
Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel.
So who's hairier?
ROCK GOD OF THE YEAR
Andrew W.K.
The fact that the White Killer isn't a mega superstar is
indisputable proof that radio really, really sucks.
PUBLICIST OF THE YEAR
Steven from "the Hassle"
The man behind the man behind the Strokes. He's a
real up-and-comer, this guy.
BOXER SHORTS OF THE YEAR
Mansilk
Mmmmmmm . . . mansilky.
LABEL OF THE YEAR
Snowstorm
Well Hung mate Chris Kidson's very personal indie
yielded a number of the year's brightest and boldest recordings --
including two from our beloved Candidate (see
below), as well as very fine, utterly unique collections from the
Folk Orchestra and the Broken Family
Band. Coming soon, more caustic comedy from the
ever-wacky, always-insightful Chris T-T, whose new
single is entitled "Eminem Is Gay." If that's not enough, the
B-side is a pisstake on QOTSA's "Feel Good Hit of
the Summer" that only the most Anglophilic Americans will
appreciate. Needless to say, we laughed and laughed and laughed
some more.
CAPITAL OF CULTURE 2002
Liverpool
It was a close call -- this prize could've gone to sunny Bury St.
Edmonds -- but in the final tally, the Fab City by the Mersey won
out. Always a fecund climate for Our Kind of Music, this year saw a
veritable embarrassment of Scouse riches, from the psychotropical
spaghetti western strains of the Bandwagon clique (the
Coral, the Bandits, the
Zutons, Tramp Attack et al) to acerbic
archetypal indie rockers like Cranebuilders,
Supergrass-y buzzpoppers the
Moonies and on-the-rise noiseniks such as the
Mighty Saguaro. Good one, la!
WEB SITE OF THE YEAR
www.drownedinsound.com
With NME spending so much time sucking Aussie ass and
licking Detroit dick, DiS has officially become the only legit info
source re: new Brit bands. Without them we might've missed such
awesome acts as the Volts, the
Koreans, Yes Yes Harry Bonanza,
They Came From the Stars I Saw Them,
Intentions of an Asteroid, and a plethora of other
goofily monikered outfits, each of whom has made the world of WHAD
a far less dreary place.
YOU KNOW WE DON'T GIVE A FUCK . . .
Far From Heaven
There's repression in the suburbs? Get the fuck out of here!
Jennifer Garner
Take away the costume designer and she's a 7. Take away the
Wonderbra, a 6. Take away Jeffrey Abrams -- still
The Luckiest Jew in Hollywood -- and we may have given
Alias a chance, since we screwed up with
Buffy.
Norah Jones
We'd say more, but the Grammys are just around the corner.
Coldplay
We like 'em well enough, but what's with the avalanche of year-end
kudos? Talk about the easiest consensus/lowest common denominator.
Ah well . . . in a couple of years, they'll get as much love as
Suede do now.
OVEREXPOSED RECORD THAT WE LOVE
The Streets: Original Pirate Material.
Way back in July, we wrote "When is some right-thinking publication
gonna tip U.S. readers to the Streets?" Who knew?
WHAD's BEST RECORD OF 2001
Super Furry Animals: Rings Around the
World. Just a reminder.
ALBUMS OF THE YEAR
1. Miss Black America: God Bless Miss Black
America (Integrity)
We've said almost all we can about Seymour Glass
and his former company, which means we gotta wonder -- had those of
you who guessed this choice correctly internalized our love, or did
you go back and read all our old columns, then guess the record we
mentioned most? Anyway, it's easy to be a band of ideas. But Miss
Black America lead with their art, put their balls on the chopping
block, and most of all, rock like only the young and broken can.
"I am the future/Hear me roar." 'Nuff said. Also, they're
big Julian Cope fans.
2. Candidate: Tiger Flies and Nuada
(Snowstorm)
As are the boys in Candidate. List-O-Mania 2001 had the densely
textured, not-quite psychedelic, not-quite rootsy pop of Tiger
Flies as the first great record of 2002. Nothing's changed.
Then they followed it with the equally extraordinary
Nuada, a remarkable collection of eerie-sweet Britfolk
inspired by The Wicker Man. Proclaimeth NME, "not
the most relevant of sounds in the garage rock era." Proclaimeth
us: That era's over.
3. The Coral: The Coral
(Deltasonic)
The Coral are a WHAD kinda band to the nth degree
-- a Liverpudlian pop cultural meatgrinder that takes in a
ridiculous spectrum of influences, from Don Van
Vliet to Rob Van Dam, and spews forth
some mind-snappingly original psychedelia. Esquire
recently compared 'em to Beck and
Radiohead. Esquire must've listened to
the wrong CD.
4. Ben Kweller: Sha Sha (ATO)
While we dispute the idea that Brooklyn is the new Center of the
Rock Universe, of this there can be no doubt: BK Baby is the King
of Kings. You kids can worry about whether it's emo, anti, punk or
pop -- we just dig the tunes and (most of) the words same as we dug
Westerberg, Costello or
Rundgren way back when. Thing is, we like Ben's
chances to be making better records than any of 'em when he turns
forty. Of course, we'll all be dead long before then, thanks to
Rove and Rummy.
5. Plush: Fed (After Hours)
Chicago loon Liam Hayes wowed us in '94 with the
dazzling "Three Quarters Blind Eyes" b/w "Found a Little Baby."
Eight years and a few hundred thousand dollars later, he's finally
unleashed the dense and demented orchestral pop magnum opus we were
hoping for. Further proving the decline of American culture, this
soulful symphonic masterpiece is only available as a Japanese
import, but worth every penny of the $30 we spent on it. He Speaks
the Words We Feel Inside Dept.: "Somebody told me I was
great/Was it my mother?"
6. My Computer: Vulnerabilia (13
Amp)
More ready-made alchemy for Well Hung ears -- we've always got time
for bedsit melodies and epic arrangments, to which this Manchester
duo add enough post-techno beats that Vulnerabilia could
easily be the next Original Pirate Material (note to
Astralwerks: get on that, wouldja?). Whenever the U.K. press plays
the "best rock/dance crossover since Screamadelica" card,
disappointment follows, but not this time. Repeat after us: OK
Computer: Bad. My Computer: Better than OK.
7. Subway Sect: Sansend (Motion)
We were initially wary when we heard Vic Godard
was resurrecting the sanctified Subway Sect
appellation, but this often-extraordinary song cycle -- which
vilifies such WHAD bugaboos as retro punk and American cultural
imperialism -- more than lives up to the genius tradition of
What's The Matter Boy?. Plus, Sansend provides
the year's only sighting of WHAD's Very Favorite Tunesmith, the
magnificent Simon Rivers. New Bitter
Springs record in 2K3 please!
8. Badly Drawn Boy: The About a Boy soundtrack
(Artist Direct)
The Be-hatted One made Nick Hornby more
interesting and the Weitz Brothers more talented.
That's saying something. We can hardly wait to see Mr.
Gough accepting his Oscar.
9. Flaming Lips: Yoshimi Battles the Pink
Robots (Warner Bros.)
As follow-ups with impossibly inflated expectations go, it's not as
good as Darkness on the Edge of Town, Desire or
Dog Man Star, but better than Reckoning, In
Utero and The Boy With the Arab Strap.
10. The Samurai Seven: Le Sport
(Rotator)
That these sharp-dressed cats are not huuuuuge is beyond us, seeing
how tracks like "What Have I Said Now?" or "Save the Manatee" are
good old fashioned brainy power pop classics. Oxford's best band by
a long shot, the S7 make their American counterparts -- like, say,
Weezer or any one of those generic MTV2 bands --
look like the proverbial pile of puke.
SINGLE OF THE YEAR
The Dawn Parade: "The Hole in My Heart" (R.E.P.E.A.T./Sugar
Town)
The anthemic standout of the tremendous Electric Fence Your
Gentleness EP. If 2K2 was all about Miss Black America, then
2K3 will unquestionably be the Year of the Dawn Parade -- kicking
off with the release of the abso-fucking-lutely stunning
Caffeine Row EP, followed by more non-stop roadwork and
(we hope) a full-length debut album. Greg McDonald
and his righteous crew are the one combo who can deservedly lay
claim to the mantle of The Only Band That Matters. Passionate,
powerful and poetic, the Dawn Parade are a reminder of how
transcendent and affecting rock & roll music can truly be. We
love them lots, and you will too. Their time is now. The world
awaits.
RUNNERS-UP
The Bluetones: "After Hours" (Superior
Quality)
Hounslow's Finest only offered a small handful of new choons this
year, but this barrelhouse paean to late night revels -- Mmmmmm . .
. Revels -- amply demonstrates why the 'Tones are the Last Great
Britpop Band.
LCD Soundsystem: "Losing My Edge" (DFA)
We're not exactly fans of the whole Williamsburg
artsy-fartsy-punky-funky thang, but the Death From Above dudes
scored bigtime with this hilarious and heartwrenching beat-crazy
cut. Talk about speaking the words we feel inside! Inspirational
Verse: "The Sonics! The Sonics! The Sonics! The
Sonics!"
Plastik: "Dial L for a Lover"
(plastik.co.uk)
Deliciously poncy glitterama, just like we like it. How are these
guys still unsigned?
Athlete: "Westside" (Regal)
Tough call -- "You Got the Style" was equally swell summertime pop,
but this one has better B-sides.
Mclusky: "To Hell With Good Intentions" (Too
Pure)
Chaotic college(n) rock from Cardiff's craziest combo. Sing it!
The Wandering Step: "Don't Be Afraid of Love"
(wanderingstep.co.uk)
Swinging, swaying rock-a-beat-a-boogie from the second best act on
Deltasonic Records. A WHAD Pick to Click for 2K3, soon everyone
will feel the force of this band!
The NPB: "Loaded" (Catchy Go Go)
A smashing stomping Gordon Raphael-remixed ditty
about getting shitfaced drunk. From Dublin, natch.
The Darkness: "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" (Must
Destroy)
The New New Wave of British Rawk Version 3.0 starts here. All
together now: Git down!
M.A.S.S.: "Hey Gravity" (Radiate)
Who can resist four minutes of a-whooping-and-a-hollering that rips
off "Last Nite" and invokes the memory of the Shop
Assistants and the Waitresses? Not us,
obviously.
FIRST GREAT ALBUM OF 2003
Clearlake: Cedars(Dusty Company)
The highly anticipated -- by us, anyway -- follow-up to the
brilliant Lido finds Jason Pegg and his
fellow residents of the mythical town of Clearlake in a far darker
frame of mind than before. Sounds like somebody dropped some
strychnine into their sugar cubes, if you know what we're
saying.
FIRST KICKASS AMERICAN BAND OF 2K3
Kings of Leon
Yeeeeee-haw, these in-bred Tennessee sprogs boogie like a
chicken-fried Strokes. Oh, and our fave King of Leon?
Vermundo the Gouty, of course.
OTHER GREAT ALBUMS OF 2002 THAT YOU'LL HEAR IN 2003
A Band of Bees: Sunshine Hit Me
(Astralwerks)
It could be worse. They could've gone with Bees U.K. Or Bees Jr. Or
the London Bees. The good news? Astralwerks has added the stinging
-- pun intended -- non-LP single, "You Got to Leave," to the U.S.
release.
Idlewild: The Remote Part
(Capitol)
The R.E.M. comparison keeps getting clearer -- a
fantastic indie EP, a stunning debut album, a disappointing
sophomore outing, and now their Life's Rich Pageant. Yes,
yes, our theory doesn't take into account Fables of the
Reconstruction, but what can you do?
The Music: s/t(Capitol)
Crossing baggy with Led Zeppelin hasn't seemed
like such a good idea since . . . well, actually, it wasn't a good
idea at all on Second Coming. But in the hands of four
stoned, spotty kids from Leeds (yet another thing they have in
common with Terris -- stoned and spotty, we mean,
not Leeds) you get noisy, groovy rock & roll that's a big old
sonic dump compared to all the little turds out there (like, say,
that band they just toured America with).
Suede: A New Morning (Sony)
A glorious return to form following the disappointing Head
Music. Brett's lyrics are goofier than ever ("It's the way
you don't read Camus or Bret Easton
Ellis") but the hooks have never been hookier, the
songs never quite as sunny. Yum.
THE NAMES MAY HAVE CHANGED, BUT THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME
Four of our fave Welsh combos from 2K2 felt the need to run away
from wacky-but-cool monikers in lieu of more straight-ahead
nomenclature: the Keys (a.k.a. Murry the Hump),
Small Victories (Tommy and the Chauffeur),
the Foofs (Fantastic Super Foofs) and
Telephone (Mo Ho Bish O Pi). So far so good,
though: Small Victories and the Keys have both delivered superb
debut singles featuring indie pop of the highest caliber, just as
we've come to expect from both bands.
BEST JULIAN COPE TRIBUTE
Spoon: "Small Stakes" (Merge)
Gerard Cosloy says it sounds like
Suicide, but we know better. Incidentally, we were
there in 1974 at the first Suicide practices in New York City. We
were working on the organ sounds.
MUSICIAN OF THE YEAR
Glen Kotche
This one-time Paul K and the Weathermen drummer's
stunning rhythmatism drives both Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
(despite reports to the contrary, only the Third Best
Wilco Album) and the Best Album of 2001 That We
Didn't Hear Until 2002, Jim O'Rourke's
misanthropic masterpiece, Insignificance. As if that
weren't enough, Glen's contribution to the Minus
5's upcoming Down With Wilco is one of the
reasons that collection is Scott McCaughey's
finest non-YFF work to date. Hell, the
Loose Fur record is pretty damn good too.
SHITE SHITE SHITEY SHITE, U.S.
Interpol
For all those people who liked to dis the Strokes
by comparing them to Jonathan Fire*eater or
GVSB, here's the real deal: stereotypical
black-clad over-hyped faux-cool NYC nothings. Ian
Curtis must be spinning in his grave.
SHITE SHITE SHITEY SHITE, U.K.
The Libertines
We'd rather listen to our old These Animal Men EP,
thanks.
SHITE SHITE SHITEY SHITE, AUSTRALIA
The Vines
As Sandy Smallens, Internet impresario and our
favorite former member of Too Much Joy, notes,
there hasn't been a good Australian band since the Lime
Spiders. P.S., we're not expecting a whole helluva lot out
of Jet either.
SHITE SHITE SHITEY SHITE, SPECIAL BROOKLYN EDITION
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up.
LETDOWN OF THE YEAR
There are few records we like more than Lost Souls. But
after twenty or thirty listens, we were forced to admit it: The
Last Broadcast doesn't even make our Top Forty, let alone our
Top Ten. P.S.: it's just Doves, they are not one
of those "the" bands.
Runner-up: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at MSG, 8/12/02. Boring and all-too-brief set list, plus too many assholes in khaki shorts calling their friends on the cell saying, "Dude, I'm at Bruce!" Oh, and The Rising is no Love and Theft, alas.
THE 8TH ANNUAL C. MONTGOMERY BURNS AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING
ACHIEVEMENT IN THE FIELD OF EXCELLENCE
The Internet
After a decade of serving little purpose other than porn and
brainless Radiohead-bashing rants, Gore's
Invention delivered the goods at last: the John
Peel show live(ish), people who buy hockey books,
Media Whores Online, and best of all, a
girlfriend!
BEST E-MAIL ADDRESS
Sqwubbsy@aol.com
JASON COHEN and MICHAEL
KRUGMAN
(February 6, 2003)
[The above opinions are those of these animal men Cohen and Krugman and not necessarily of Rolling Stone]