Loud Family - Music: What Happened?

2000
by Scott Miller

"Everything In Its Right Place" - Radiohead
In 1993 there was one of those "New Faces" articles in Rolling Stone magazine introducing, among other acts, Liz Phair, Radiohead, and the Loud Family! Funny to think of a time when no one knew which of those would soon enough own the new century and rent out space to everyone else. As often happens, the band themselves found all the attention disturbing, and reacted with a non-rock album, which began with the neurotic and fascinatingly minimalist "Everything In Its Right Place." Kid A was almost certainly the most musically peculiar number one record, making for an interesting question as to what everyone was responding to; it really didn't inaugurate a new trend of albums that sounded like that, for instance. In a way, the effect was felt most in T.V. commercials. It was fairly suddenly far more okay to have indie, art-project sonics in your multi-million dollar T.V. ad, sort of in the same way it started being okay in 1960s short subjects to have little cartoon people bopping around to music that sounded like Ornette Coleman.

"New History" - Verbow
Besides non-rock moves, 2000 saw a dangerous escalation of the who's-louder digital mastering sweepstakes that permeated even cello driven, not-at-all-full-throttle releases like this addictive recipient of the Brad Wood cum Chris Lord-Alge star treatment.

"Dark Center Of the Universe" - Modest Mouse
The most engaged I've been by the phenomenally successful alt band Modest Mouse was on The Moon & Antarctica, another case of a band going experimental, they say. "I'm not the dark center of the universe, like you thought" is a snappy line, and the part with the guitar work with the little wavers creates an atmosphere ably.

"I Hate My Frickin' I.S.P." - Todd Rundgren
This is a stand-out latter day online universe Todd cut in the old Todd mold—both in that it's a no-pussyfooting rock track (not, oh, a capella soul?), and in that it succeeds at charmingly unexpected human commiseration in the manner of Something/Anything. About being on-line! Our protagonist is stuck with horrible internet service in a Motel 6 with a "deadline that won't back off" and "no time left to..." well, you'll just have to buy the song.

"Nietzsche" - The Dandy Warhols
This Gil Norton produced beast is, I think, the very biggest of the 2000 big mixes, at least psychologically, what with the droll pagan implacability of "I want a god who stays dead." Apparently the film featuring the DW's experience touring with the Brian Jonestown Massacre is a hoot.

"Now I Can Die" - Nina Gordon
Metallica producer Bob Rock handled this post-Veruca Salt project deftly, sounding right at home in Jon Brion territory. It's one of those Sees candies with a weird fruit thing going on: if "He likes to try on all my clothes, but not my underwear" isn't challenging in your book, how about a straight rhyming of "love" with "turtle dove"?

"How Am I Different" - Aimee Mann
The aforementioned Mr. Brion is at his best here. Bachelor No. 2 is the sweet spot of the world doing as Aimee Mann does at least as much as the other way around. Not only was there the famous kiss-off of the music industry, constituting perhaps the most iconic event in the shift to artist-controlled on-line music sales, but she established a mid-tempo, less-rocking-out standard governing the emotional moments of a certain class of later mature audience artists like Sufjan Stevens in a way that superseded Cobainesque howling.

"Near You" - Teenage Fanclub
Not their best production, but here's yet another case of a Teenage Fanclub song that initially struck me as a bland, information-free pop exercise, then within a few listens revealed a gleaming crystal of a musical structure.

"My World View" - Alison Faith Levy
Besides playing keyboards in my band, Alison released this stunning song in 2000. I saw her band do it live at SF's Make Out Room and I gave her a standing ovation for it, which I truly meant.

"Hello Operator" - The White Stripes
"You're pretty good looking, for a girl" were the first words from the White Stripes that grabbed me, but "Hello Operator" presents the whole crazily emphatic package. That this doesn't come off as antiquarian is mysterious; if Mr. White ever had a conversation with an operator, it wasn't to get a dime back. Also, for being as Daliesque as at moments it is—"my coffin doesn't have a phone"—it has some real character actor integrity. I love the way he says, "How you gonna get the money?"

"Ms. Jackson" - Outkast
"Ms. Jackson" is quite a creation. The chorus, with that little cascading piano, is as memorable as they come, and the rapid-fire rap to madame la baby mama's mama is, well, really something. At times it's definitely good; I buy the whole first verse part with, "She never got a chance to hear my side of the story." On the other hand, the third verse with "Cheating, beating, and to the G's they be the same thing" has me seriously confused as to what's going on, and I think I feel pretty good about keeping it that way.

"The Model" - Belle and Sebastian
This is around where Belle and Sebastian started hitting their stride—for good, we can hope—trading generally in the musical and literary touches carelessly abandoned by a modernist vanguard, like the harpsichord here. Lyrically, Stuart Murdoch is a subtler Morrissey with a greater likelihood of warming up to his subjects. "You're not impressed by me/But it's a funny way for you to tell me/A whisper in a choir stall": that's good; it's maudlin, but with the specialness of not quite being dismissive. With Morrissey, the gap between unimpressor and unimpressee is unbridgeable.

"Live In Japan" - Mike Keneally and Beer For Dolphins
Anyone who wonders whatever happened to prog rock need look no farther than Mike Keneally. He was the last touring guitarist hired by Frank Zappa to play the hard stuff—so you know his papers are in order. What's not obvious until you're exposed to a fair amount of his material is the incredible melodic range and facility that go with the frenetic guitar and xylophone duets and nutty humor. This most pop and pro of his emphasis tracks talks about wanting to live (the verb) in Japan and "revel in our otherness" in a way that reminds me of the best pre-fame Tubes (Prairie Prince—man!).

"Beautiful Day" - U2
U2 have steadily gained credibility with me—any humanitarian of Bono's caliber is likely to win me over in the end. Zooropa's "A vampire or a victim/It depends on who's around" was a brilliant line, but maybe the music wasn't quite keeping pace. "Beautiful Day" is their biggest all-around success. It's got just enough subtlety of texture and—my God—chord changes to spice things up, while still basically leveraging the thing they do. Still, I've never been actually thrilled by U2 until the moment at the end of "Beautiful Day" where he goes into, "What you don't have, you don't need it now." That feels like it comes from nowhere, as an improv, if not a vision.

"High Time" - Michael Penn
If all you've heard is "No Myth" ("What if I was Romeo in black jeans"), do yourself the favor of further exploration of the wide talents of Sean's brother and Aimee Mann's husband. He's a world-class producer, too, and here you get a razor-sharp example of everything he does—the extra-bold shoop-be-bops, the big, fat, punch of every sound, the nimble writing: "What a scene/What a drama just to find the door/That was mean/That was totally uncalled for." Who can spot Aimee's cameo?

"Loved One's Lies" - Jupiter Affect
If you loved the Three O'Clock in 1985 and have drifted, this is the place for a return visit. It's delirious, over-the-top feyness over 1969-1974 muscle rock not completely dissimilar to Sparks or Queen, but if I had to play just one track to sell you on that description of the three groups, it would probably be this track by a nose. In fact, production cred for the biggest growling guitar of the year and bludgeoning rhythm section is due erstwhile Spark Earle Mankey.

"Mass Romantic" - The New Pornographers
The 2000s have been good; probably a little better than the '90s and not quite as good as the '70s. From my personal perspective, the news item of 2000 was the New Pornographers. With the star trio of Neko Case, Carl Newman (Zumpano!), and Dan Bejar (of Dan Bejar/Destroyer drinking game fame!), this was the most fruitful collective since Elephant Six. A lot of the songs are really good; the title song is the most remarkable, for the way it builds a swing groove on a mildly unlikely ka-chunka guitar figure and nasal organ, and especially for the run-on sentence verse structure that always resolves in the middle on the word "radio." Wow. But did they ever find out who did the cover painting?