Pavement - Brighten the Corners

Thousands of adjectives could be thrown around to describe Pavement's erratic brand of 90's alternative rock, and not a single one of them would come close to hitting the nail on the head. While "Cut Your Hair" was their only true hit (Stephen Malkmus wasn't exactly too charming live), all of the band's albums were welcomed with modest commercial success and immense critical acclaim, save their 1992 debut Slanted and Enchanted, which has only sold around 150,000 copies since its inception. Hey, that's a hell of a lot more records than I could sell.

As if you could argue the band's consistency, the fact that Pavement diehards are in a constant state of debate over the group's best record only adds to the credibility of Malkmus and his boys. While they seem to have agreed that the early albums are slightly superior, the band's later work certainly doesn't get ignored, and although there isn't much to defend, today, I'll be making my case for 1997's Brighten the Corners.

What seems to be the most common gripe with Brighten the Corners is that the album, for the most part, doesn't do as much to keep the listener's attention as, say, Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. As a result, it's often mistaken for being... well, snoozy. Coincidentally, these exact complaints are what keeps me coming back for me. It's exactly what I love in a record once in a while; laid-back, summery, all things desirable. It's not exactly the most radio-friendly stuff, but it's wonderfully catchy, and one of the rare albums I could probably listen to all day. But, like anything else, Brighten the Corners will always have its haters. They can talk to Stephen Malkmus about it. I don't think he gives a shit about anything.

What about the voice of Geddy Lee?
How did it get so high?
I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy?

The Top 25 Songs of the 00's, Pt. 2

I'm back for more. More milestones of pop culture from an era of iPods, internet hype, and boring, Pitchfork-approved indie pop that I can't seem to get enough of. So here it is; the second of five installments of my favorite twenty-five songs of the aughties, solely for your entertainment, pleasure, etc.


20. The Flaming Lips - Fight Test
from 2002's "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots", released on Warner Bros. Records



I don't know where the sun beams end
And the star lights begin
It's all a mystery
And I don't know how a man decides
What's right for his own life
It's all a mystery


19. Jay-Z - 99 Problems
from 2003's "The Black Album", released on Roc-A-Fella Records



I heard "Son do you know why I'm stoppin' you for?"
"Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hats real low?
Do I look like a mind reader sir, I don't know
Am I under arrest or should I guess some more?"


18. Animal Collective - Brother Sport
from 2009's "Merriweather Post Pavilion", released on Domino Records



You got to weigh what he said
To help you shape the way you play
You gotta get rid of the mourning
Sort out the habits of your mind

17. The National - Mr. November
from 2005's "Alligator", released on Beggars Banquet Records



I wish that I believed in fate
I wish I didn't sleep so late
I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders

16. Interpol - Obstacle 1
from 2002's "Turn on the Bright Lights", released on Matador Records



It's in the way that she poses
It's in the things that she puts in my head
Her stories are boring and stuff
She's always calling my bluff

Refused - The Shape of Punk to Come

Fame can sometimes be cruel with its choices. For instance, why does hip-hop reward Usher and latter-day Eminem, but leave heroes and innovators like DJ Shadow and Deltron 3030 to die in quasi-obscurity, especially when the latter group has a much tighter grasp on the scene?

Unfortunately, Refused fall victim to this very phenomenon. Shunned by the mainstream, The Shape of Punk to Come was doomed to fail commercially from the beginning. Compared to its contemporaries (blink-182's Enema of the State and the Offspring's Americana, for example), The Shape of Punk to Come was far too long, far too aggressive, and far too experimental to make any kind of sudden impact on angst-ridden anarchistic high school kids, or anyone else who wasn't an Internet regular (a rarity at the time) or down with the post-hardcore scene.

Fortunately, The Shape of Punk to Come ended up being one of history's most prophetic album names, its wildly experimental and over the top music influencing underground and mainstream punk and hardcore years after its release. And despite the tremendous influence Refused have had, The Shape of Punk to Come still hasn't gotten quite the recognition it deserves. Kids who live and die by the lyrics of, err, fine wordsmiths like Mike Shinoda haven't even caught a glimpse of hardcore until the opening lyrics of "Worms of the Senses / Faculties of the Skull" infiltrate their ears.

I've got a bone to pick with capitalism
And a few to break!

Dr. Dre - The Chronic

For all you fun-hating prudes who despise everything about hip-hop, you have Dr. Dre to thank. The godfather of all things gangster, the good Doctor has crafted an album too funky and offensive to be ignored. Dr. Dre gave birth to G-Funk. Dr. Dre single-handedly created Snoop Dogg's career. Dr. Dre is why your grandma hates black people.

Okay, perhaps that's a bit of a stretch. But denying the impact of The Chronic is difficult, if not impossible. This album defined '92. The L.A. riots, the civil unrest, the brutality, the racism. It's all here. "The Day The N**gaz Took Over" probably hits the hardest, its lyrics told in excruciating detail, and its news report-esque interludes chilling and eerie. And 18 years later, it can't shake the feeling of being just a little tacky.

Fortunately, Dre has Snoop at his side. Simply put, everything Snoop Dogg touches turns to gold. Providing a bit of a comic edge to tracks like "F**k Wit Dre Day" with his seemingly effortless and carefree flow, almost coming off as lazy at times. Snoop is perhaps the only man that can rap about fellatio and homophobia without a hint of emotion in his voice, a trait that only adds to his charm and appeal. He would later outstage Dre on 1993's phenomenal Doggystyle.

I won't deny that The Chronic sounds quite a bit dated in 2010, the albums that outclass it probably wouldn't exist without it. Laying out a blueprint for hip-hop to come, Dre's synth-heavy beats and biting lyrics are still prevalent in much of today's rap. I guess you could say his legacy is... chronic.