I hesitate to blog about the Grammys for a couple reasons:

1) Saying the mainstream music industry is in deep trouble is kind of like beating a dead horse with a baby seal. This situation is never more obvious than during the annual Grammy telecast. Eventually they’re gonna run out of ways to repackage the Beatles’ back catalogue and then all you’ll be left with is Herbie Hancock albums. Which brings me to…

2) It’s doubtful that KSCR and associates really care about who wins these damn things. As a product of Strip Mall America, I’m probably one of the few who has a lingering emotional investment in the whole process. And despite their relatively unpredictability, major Grammy award winners are usually divided into two camps: the most broad, middle-of-the-road commercial successes (Foo Fighters, Alicia Keys) and the aging stars who are really being awarded for a whole body of work (Steely Dan over Beck, Radiohead, and Eminem for 2001 Album of the Year? Really?).

So where can timeliness and relevance be found in an institution that allows “Professor” will.i.am to rhyme “Grammys” with “jammies” and “slammies” while placating the indie crowd with Bright Eyes’ award for, um, album packaging? The performances, obviously. The Time and Rihanna complemented each other unusually well and the Beyonce/Tina Turner diva-off was one for the ages, but the night belonged to Kanye West.

The RIAA clearly wasn’t honored by his lateness enough to give him the big prize (for the third time in a row) but at least hooked him up with a few rap awards and some airtime in front of the old Aggro Crag set from GUTS. Oh, and they also let us enjoy Daft Punk’s first. TV appearance. EVER. Take six and take this, haters.

As KSCR’s resident soft rock connoisseur, I enjoyed every smooth minute of the Channel101.com “series” Yacht Rock during its 10-episode run from 2005-2006. Each month J.D. Ryznar and Hunter Stair (of VH1’s short-lived Acceptable TV), along with a talented supporting cast, re-enacted the creative inspiration for the gentlest grooves of the late ’70s and early ’80s, lampooning everyone from Kenny Loggins to Michael Jackson to Warren G.

Since then, Yacht Rock has become a cultural mini-phenomenon (mostly amongst people who own a Michael McDonald solo album). Due to popular demand, the YR crew got together to make one last episode detailing the exegesis of “Footloose,” a story which may or may not involve a deranged Jimmy Buffet holding Loggins hostage and a climatic massacre of Parrotheads. Yah mo check it out.

(NSFW dialogue)

Here’s the second half of my top 10 favorite albums of 2007…

5. Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam
I think I’ve listened to “For Reverend Green” more than any other song this year. It’s wonderfully grainy, and the vocals display Animal Collective at the top of their game. Technically, the singing is rather poor; but it manages to be raw and feral with childlike sincerity and spirit, and I just feel that life-affirming tingle when I hear the singer’s ferociously cathartic screams. And this is just one song I’m talking about; many critics have cited the opener, “Peacebone,” or Strawberry Jam’s centerpiece “Fireworks,” as the song of the year. The album may seem like group’s usual sound, but is that really an issue when that sound gets better with every release? After listening to Strawberry Jam, the handle “Animal Collective” seems quite apt for such mastery of that balance between the savage and civilized. I’ll be looking forward to their next LP.

4. The Field - From Here We Go Sublime

Minimalism seems like such a compositional cop-out. One of the difficult things about composing/songwriting is linking together ideas in a manner that sounds effortless, coherent, and intelligent. That’s what’s meant when something sounds “inspired.” There’s not much of a challenge if all you need to do is cook up a musical nugget that can be drawn out for several minutes. That’s why minimalism is often boring. But Swedish artist Axel Willner, with the stage name “The Field,” manages to avoid this pitfall with From Here We Go Sublime, a work of techno-minimalist glacial goodness. Every idea he dreams up does not warrant a change. They’re strong enough to stand alone for quite a while. And not only does Willner seem to know this, but he’s mastered the right timing for the shifts when they do come. They’re subtle, with just enough wit to keep your interest, not only in the development but with their respective foundations. The music isn’t immediately gripping, but it’s certainly not boring. For lack of a better word, it’s just…chill, and this is how The Field avoids both saturating the listener with too much of a good thing, and diluting itself with time and repetition. Extrapolating this over ten tracks, it’s no surprise that this is one of 2007’s most consistent albums.

3. Jens Lekman - Night Falls Over Kortedala

For some reason, Jens Lekman always feels like a guilty pleasure. There’s that crooning baritone, the lush orchestral samples, and the occasionally cringe-worthy lyrics of a hopeless romantic. Blend them together and you get a plate of concentrated cheesecake. And like an image conscious teenage girl (”this will go straight to my thighs!”), you know it tastes great, but after consumption comes regret. On opener, “And I Remember Every Kiss,” Lekman sings “You get a gun and you name it after a girlfriend” as the strings soar to the heavens, and I think “pff, what the hell does that mean???” But I love it. Somehow, Mr. Lekman manages to make all the drawbacks of his music, paradoxically, not drawbacks at all. It’s delightfully cheesy, and has a very classic feel. Lekman’s previous release, Oh You’re So Silent Jens, had some great tracks, but a lot of filler; the 17-track compilation easily could’ve done with 7 or so less. But there is not a poor moment on Night Falls 12 songs. During the course of this semester I must’ve played at least half of them during my DJ shift, and many of those more than once (especially “Shirin”). There’s plenty of cheesecake to go around.

2. Radiohead - In Rainbows

Okay, okay, I know that every music critic ever is on Radiohead’s nuts. And I know In Rainbows is one of their weaker releases…but we’re talking about, arguably, one of the world’s greatest bands. “Mediocre” for Radiohead is still quite good, and relative to everything else, this is one of 2007’s best. One of my friends mentioned that their choose-your-own-price marketing revolution may have distracted people from the quality of the music itself. I think he meant this in a bad way, but I think of it as a challenge. When you buy something, you almost feel pressured to test your product, to scrutinize it and decide if you got your money’s worth. When something is potentially free, any notion of exchange has vanished. You don’t feel the need to justify your investment. In Rainbows must not only deal with this, but it must grab the listener from the your-price-tag novelty and say “Yeah, it’s cool but I’m worth noticing, too.” And I think it meets this challenge. Opener “15 Steps” is nothing special at first, but as soon as York sings “One by one….,” it hooked me immediately. Many of the songs follow the same trend; they don’t immediately catch your ear, but they all have at least one climax, that “moment,” that you’ll want to hear over and over. The middle of Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, and the last minute of “Jigsaw Falling Into Place,” in particular, come to mind.

It’s been said that Radiohead has more or less “played it safe” this time. Compared to Kid A, In Rainbows is not exactly artistically courageous. But in addition to the aforementioned trend, there are a couple things I’ve noticed in the songs that make this LP distinctive in its own right. For one, there’s a much greater focus on rhythm. In the past, I’ve heard people accuse Radiohead of having little of it, and they’re right. Save a few songs, there’s not much on their past six albums you can tap your foot to. But In Rainbows has much more pulse. Not only does this become obvious on the opening two tracks, but even the slower tracks (i.e. Nude, All I Need) have a prominent cadence. Furthermore, melody is subdued for a greater focus on mood. The songs here don’t have a sing-along quality; in fact it’s difficult to recall the vocal melodies. While Yorke still sings, he steps down from center stage to blend as an instrument with the rest of the band, allowing an atmosphere to envelope the listener. This effect is enhanced by thicker textures. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi, for example, is probably their most polyphonic song to date, and there’s a surprising amount of strings in the latter half of the album. None of these changes are bad things; they’re just different. What’s interesting is that the third track, “Nude,” is nearly a decade old. Radiohead have played that song live since the OK Computer era, when it was also known as “Big Ideas.” And it doesn’t sound out of place at all. To be fair, they’ve changed the song a lot since then, but I think that’s a testament to both the brilliance of music and Radiohead’s creative skill; the song has been vastly modified stylistically to fit the overall delivery of the album, but it has still maintained it’s compositional core. I confess I do like the older version better, but it’s still intriguing to think how something can sound so familiar and yet so alien. And that’s kind of how In Rainbows is. It’s a more accessible Radiohead, but it’s certainly not a throwback; they’ve still got some tricks up their sleeves.

1. The Twilight Sad - Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters

I don’t get people. This album got solid reviews during it’s release (8.6 from Pitchfork, 4/5 from AllMusic, B+ from Stylus), and I haven’t seen it on any of the end-of-year lists I’ve read. Does the album not age well? Are they too Scottish? Or am I just retarded?

Anyway…despite my frustration, I think The Twilight Sad are the best new artist of the year, with the best album of the year. They’ve created their own sound with shoegaze and folk, weaved with pent-up frustration and the vast, beautiful night sky. Their instrumentation, with the shimmering guitars and yearning accordion on “That Summer, at Home I had Become the Invisible Boy,” is demonstrably gorgeous. The song titles are long-winded, but it’s clear The Twilight Sad wants to evoke visceral images, for they execute it remarkably for such a young band. On “Last Year’s Rain Didn’t Fall Quite So Hard,” not only does the music sound like rain, but downright oppressive rain, beating down the vocals, which can only emerge cross-faded in the isolated distance. Like the band name itself, everything on Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters is melancholic but radiant, executed with both grace and aggression, capturing the emotional range of anyone who’s…well, human. “Mapped By What Surrounded Them” and ” I’m Taking the Train Home” pack a one-two punch as the album’s zenith, but there’s not a bad song on here. One of my few complaints, however, is that the album is only 9 tracks long. And I know The Twilight Sad has more to offer. Their 5-track, eponymous 2006 EP contains two songs that were not included on Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters, which is a shame because they’re both phenomenal. If you like Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters, be sure to get those two songs.

Ironically, the lyrical content primarily revolves around the troubles of being a kid and growing up. But this isn’t anything I relate to at all; my childhood kicked ass. But then again, I didn’t grow up in a broken home, which I would assume is a primary conflict in this album (just look at the cover art). So obviously, the reason I love this album is not because it resonates with me thematically. The music is stunning enough in its own right. So maybe those who can relate will like The Twilight Sad even more…..or maybe not if it hits too close to home. I say you take the risk. This one should not be overlooked.

While the rest of the world awaits the arrival of the holidays during the month of December, Southern California audiophiles eagerly anticipate information regarding an event less wholesome than Christmas, but undoubtedly more epic than the well-loved holiday.

That’s right, kiddos—Coachella lineup season has come to town.

Officially, Goldenvoice—the event’s promoters—release the 2008 festival lineup on January 21st. This date, nearly a month away, however, has not hindered hopeful Coachella attendees from speculating who will perform at the acclaimed three-day music festival in Indio, California this upcoming April.

Rumors are abound across the Information Super Highway, centering mainly on choice Los Angeles music blogs and the official Coachella message boards. From impossible wish lists (“Say, didn’t Joy Division break up when Ian Curtis killed himself?”) to confirmed performers as verified by ‘the brother-in-law of my mailman’s next-door neighbor’s deceased uncle,’ solid confirmations of potential performers have been nearly non-existent.

Smaller artists, as well as some sub-headliners, present promising cases of performing at Coachella ’08, given word-of-mouth confirmations from the artists themselves, or from artist availability on promotion and booking websites. (Possible appearances are slated from Death Cab for Cutie, The Verve, Portishead, Ladytron, and Caribou.)

Absent, however, from these officially unconfirmed confirmations, are any clear headliners for the festival. In fact, none of the usual contributors to the Coachella Rumor Mill can discern any of the eventual three ‘big name acts’ who will capstone each day of performances.

Usually noted for its promotion of some of the largest names in popular alternative music, as well as its revival of some of the most influential bands in recent musical history, Coachella and Goldenvoice seem to have either missed the boat on 2008’s most anticipated headliners, or have become extremely adept at keeping secrets from the general public.

To crush your Yorke-yearning desires before imagination supersedes logic—yes, I’m talking to you, Mr. Diehard Radiohead Fan—a Goldenvoice employee has confirmed that the famed British experimental rockers will NOT be playing Coachella this year, a pity, considering how the band was suspected for several months to be a shoo-in for the 2008 festival’s leading headliner. Nix any hopes of an appearance by The White Stripes, Led Zeppelin, or My Bloody Valentine as well; these bands, too, by process of research and elimination, show no signs of performing in the Palm Desert come April.

So, where does this leave Coachella and Goldenvoice promoters to turn? Whom shall grace the coveted Coachella Main Stage closing slot that hot, sweltering weekend in April? What bands will music lovers across the world shell out nearly $350 to see?

Two words: TALKING. HEADS.

That’s right, you heard me correctly. The only way that Coachella can regain any ounce of authority and renown in the music festival circuit—especially after losing Radiohead—would be to book the most impossible reunion imaginable. So, Goldenvoice and Co., listen up closely. The following shall be your saving grace.

True, David Byrne isn’t exactly loved by his fellow band members; after disbanding officially in 1991, little hope of a legitimate Talking Heads reunion dwindled away with time between Byrne’s expanding ego and bad blood amongst former members. Yet, as of late, all signs seem to be pointing to a highly improbable, but completely believable chance at a Talking Heads 2008 performance at this year’s festival.

Not happening, you say? Completely unlikely? Perhaps, but, considering a reunion from both the band and Coachella’s promoters’ stance, Talking Heads would benefit themselves and Goldenvoice quite heavily, should a reunion take place this year. With a recent resurgence in their popularity, the band could pull a large draw—both in attendance and cash flow—keeping all pieces of the Coachella machine (audience included) well-oiled and content.

The idea of a Talking Heads reunion has been flittering around the Coachella message board as of late, and to be quite honest, with each passing day and with each potential headliner becoming unconfirmed, the idea suddenly transforms—albeit slowly—from fan-girl fancy to something of a realistic hope.

So, if I were the Talking Heads, I’d reunite at Coachella in 2008. Band mate hatred aside, that cold hard cash would be too hard to turn down.

Dec. 19: Super Furry Animals - “The Gift That Keeps Giving”

It’s been an under-the-radar year for SFA, but I think the video for this holiday-themed track that turned up (almost inexplicably) on this summer’s Hey Venus will have people remembering the Furries well after the 25th. Just don’t tell the children.

Counting down from ten, here are the first five of my ten favorite albums from 2007. Rankings are always difficult after the top five, so the following feel a bit indefinite to me…but I tried:

10. Burial - Untrue
I’ve just started listening to this, so there’s not much I know about dub-step artist Burial. But with an impressive net score of 91 on metacritic.com, and a good first impression, I feel Untrue deserves to be included on this list. By just the artist, album, and cover art, you have an idea of what it sounds like. It’s a bit like Massive Attack, but with the eerie darkness of Black Heart Procession and a hint of that Daft Punk flair (some tracks more than others). Untrue evokes a range of enigmatic moods that warrants repeated listens.

9. Robert Gomez - Brand New Towns

Upon hearing Robert Gomez, the Elliott Smith influence is immediately obvious. While it’s possible he may just have the unfortunate circumstance of having an eerily similar voice, Gomez is by no means a rip-off artist. While the songs have the beautifully vulnerable, melancholic feel and whispered vocals of Elliott Smith, all the ideas on Brand New Towns sound compositionally fresh. One never feels he’s trying to fill the loss of Smith with himself. His music’s more of a tribute than an ape-ing, for he creates his own agency. The songs have a bit more harmonic daring, and some are actually optimistic! Gomez is clearly talented, for Brand New Towns is remarkably consistent. There’s nothing drastically innovative going on here in terms of style/genre, but Brand New Towns is a songwriter doing what he does best, and that’s good enough for me.

8. Frog Eyes- Tears of the Valedictorian
Frog Eyes is hit or miss for a lot of people. With their penchant for manic vocals, volatile harmonic movement, and raucous instrumentation, many find them difficult to listen to. Frog Eyes offers no relief for such individuals, as they continue to explode with unruly charm on Tears of the Valedictorian, which becomes obvious from the start on the ironically titled opener, “Idle Songs.” What intrigues me about Frog Eyes is how they manage to create such brilliant, inspired motifs and lace them within a circus-like maelstrom of sound. It sounds spontaneous yet preconceived, primal but cultivated. It’s intoxicating, and they champion this approach with “Caravan Breakers, They Prey On the Weak On the Old,” one of my favorite songs of the year. While the album could be described as “more of the same,” one does notice that many of the tracks are longer than usual. Whereas 8 of the 13 tracks on 2004’s The Folded Palm were under 2.5 minutes, the 9 tracks of Tears of the Valedictorian run for an average of about 4 minutes. They feel more like movements then songs, as seemingly unrelated ideas are connected within the same song. That said, the style still sounds very Frog Eyes, but there are few bands out there pulling off songs of jarring grace so well.

7. Band of Horses - Cease to Begin
It would seem that the positive response of Band of Horses’ debut album, Everything All the Time, gave them the confidence to polish their craft, for Cease to Begin sounds more cohesive and mature. While the debut album had plenty of engaging themes, they were undermined by mediocre song structure. They would be approached too quickly, left undeveloped, or overshadowed by too much other, less interesting material. But on Cease to Begin, the core delight of the songs are carried through their entirety; you love them from start to finish. The best examples of this are the phenomenal “Island on the Coast” and “Cigarettes Wedding Bands.” Cease to Begin has some down-tempo numbers, and while they are warm and professional, I would say they are the album’s weakness, as they damage its consistency. Nevertheless, the album’s highlights more than outweigh its setbacks. This album was surprisingly good, and I feel like an eye should be kept on Band of Horses’ future output.

6. The Tough Alliance - A New Chance
Another pleasant surprise from Sweden. The Tough Alliance sounds like Röyksopp and Junior Boys teaming up with Jim Henson. It’s primarily vocals and synths/electronics, all wrapped in tangible fun. It’s frisky, giddy, and high-spirited, but it avoids drowning you in sunshine and the obnoxiously saccharine, cloying nature of twee-pop groups like The Polyphonic Spree (sorry TPS fans) with variations in ambience and mood. “Miami,” for example, is in minor, but still creates an energizing texture. Just listen to “Something Special,” “First Class Riot,” or “The Last Dance,” they should put a smile on anyone’s face.

For those of us who grew up in the South, Arron Neville’s Christmas Concert was a highly-anticipated event. Whether we liked it or not, our parents made us watch it. So here you are with Arron Neville’s original Christmas classic, “Louisiana Christmas Day”.

The Squiggliest Voice On Earth

Dec. 7: The Pogues feat. Kirsty MacColl - “Fairytale of New York”

Arriving a decade before the Dropkick Murphys and Flogging Molly, the Pogues blazed a path to mainstream success for Celtic punk bands with, um, less-than-traditional vocalists with this maudlin-sounding Yuletide duet, colloquially known as “Christmas In the Drunk Tank.”

Any Christmas song that contains an exchange like “You’re a bum, you’re a punk/You’re an old slut on junk” is alright by me. Happy holidays!