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As I’m sure you’ve all guessed…

An Album A Day Keeps Death at Bay is somewhat, well, dead. It has been more or less for the last six months and I apologize for not posting this notice earlier. It has nothing to do with RIAA warnings or any sort of legal recourse from an outside party, moreso it has to do with my lack of time/motivation to continue working on this blog. This does not mean I have stopped entirely, though. On my main blog, Neighborhood Threat, I’ve carried on the short-form music essay style that this blog came to be known for, as well as posting pertinent and live links to downloads of new music. I plan on continuing with this for as long as I can without interruption.

Truthfully, I just lost my mojo to generate exciting and new content, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to find and share music and writing with you all. At the current stage, my main Tumblr page is my homebase and the blog you should be following for all things that this blog once offered. Looking ahead, I want it to be known that this blog will return in a completely rebooted and reformatted version with much more interactive and exclusive content that will cater to both musicologists, fans, critical listeners, writers, and more. Until then, I want to thank the 1000+ followers who stuck with me this long and helped make this blog mean something. This site was created because I wanted to share both great music and great decent* prose as a way of unifying people to an idea as much to one another, and as Shakespeare said, “If music be the food of love, play on.” This website born out of a labor of love and was intended to direct readers and users to the history behind the music I and many others love. The response was overwhelmingly positive and helped me to learn a great deal about my own writing and my love of music. Granted that many times there was a distinct lack of copy-editing, but that’s how it goes when you’re a bored and overeducated college student. But each of these essays was intended to be short and sweet, like a treat, with a little bonus to boot: a download link. There was never any intention to impress and the fact that you all were so complimentary and helpful to the whole process made it that much more worth it. So An Album A Day Keeps Death at Bay will live on in various permutations until I get officially cracking on the rebuild. Until then, it’s all quiet on the Western front.

You’ve all been stellar and as influential as I could hope this blog has been for all of you, and it’s not like I’ve gone away entirely. Again, check out my main blog Neighborhood Threat which will offer a lot of the same content you can find here, interspersed with other Tumblr-friendly links, images, words, and fodder. As always, the archive for An Album A Day will remain but there will be no new content until the rebuild.

Thanks for an interesting a positive experience over the last year and I’m sure I’ll see you all around the ‘Net,

-Max

P.S. You can still contact me thru the email for this blog here if you have any comments/requests/just wanna chat, and you can also hit me up/add me on Twitter and via the Facebook Fan Page. -M

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Take one part Tom Waits, add a dash of Dylan-mysticism, center it around Bomb Squad-esque production and you might have something remotely close to Tricky’s Maxinquaye (1995). Not that any of those things aren’t part of the strange surrealist collage that pulses and thuds along, but it is Maxinquaye’s sonic hallmarks, hedging slightly on the pre-millennial paranoia (later addressed in Tricky’s catalogue) that makes the album such a rich and textured happening. “Brand New You’re Retro” squeeks and rusts like a brand new toy, whereas other tracks like obvious go-to of “Black Steel” or charming slunk and smolder of “Hell Is Just Around the Corner”. For a debut, Maxinquaye sets up a gold standard that Tricky and co-pilot Martina Topley Bird first examined during the initial wave with their most closely associate act, Massive Attack. But it is within the overarching contextual history, with movies like oft-forgotten Shopping (1994) and headscratchingly dull though oddly prescient one-offs like Johnny Nmemonic (1995) that back up the albums aesthetic approach just as much as its timeless grasping at progressive anything. Truly an electric if not cybernetically juicy debut, Maxinquaye is an early look at what, if anything, humankind and musickind has become. Listen to “Brand New You’re Retro” and “Abbaon Fat Track” (Live, 1999)Download “Maxinquaye“ 

Take one part Tom Waits, add a dash of Dylan-mysticism, center it around Bomb Squad-esque production and you might have something remotely close to Tricky’s Maxinquaye (1995). Not that any of those things aren’t part of the strange surrealist collage that pulses and thuds along, but it is Maxinquaye’s sonic hallmarks, hedging slightly on the pre-millennial paranoia (later addressed in Tricky’s catalogue) that makes the album such a rich and textured happening. “Brand New You’re Retro” squeeks and rusts like a brand new toy, whereas other tracks like obvious go-to of “Black Steel” or charming slunk and smolder of “Hell Is Just Around the Corner”. For a debut, Maxinquaye sets up a gold standard that Tricky and co-pilot Martina Topley Bird first examined during the initial wave with their most closely associate act, Massive Attack. But it is within the overarching contextual history, with movies like oft-forgotten Shopping (1994) and headscratchingly dull though oddly prescient one-offs like Johnny Nmemonic (1995) that back up the albums aesthetic approach just as much as its timeless grasping at progressive anything. Truly an electric if not cybernetically juicy debut, Maxinquaye is an early look at what, if anything, humankind and musickind has become.

Listen to “Brand New You’re Retro” and “Abbaon Fat Track” (Live, 1999)
Download “Maxinquaye“ 

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By it’s very definition, stoner rock is a misnomer—think of your favorite song; did the writer(s) do it under the influence of some sort of illicit substance. If it appeared, well, ever, then likelihood has it that there was some sort of extra-human substance or influence involved. That being said, somewhere within the dumb post-grunge millennial hoopla that swept and consumed modern rock, Queens of the Stone Age’s second album, the aptly titled Rated R (2000), was lumped in with a genre that creaked and groaned with a certain desert-fried intelligence and history, unlike the ham-fisted rock typification in fashion at the time. Meaty while simultaneously sparse and mysterious, Homme, Oliveri & Co. produced a wholly unique creation. As Dr. Hunter S. Thompson said of this singularity, “A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.” And if any band embodied that almost literary sense of difference, it was the Queens; having already produced a masterful and sonically duplicitous (though entirely self-aware self-titled debut), Rated R, here reissued with a slew of b-sides and a recorded live set from their rookie years, stands by the original tracklisting—still packing a one-two barfight knockout. So, while Homme has risen to the level of artful coordinator of riffage since his Kyuss days, Rated R stands as a testament to his power as both a band leader and somewhat of a stylistic guide to the band. Oliveri, matching him in wit but out-classing him in aggression, plays to his counterparts strength as a songwriter, and Homme to him. Queens declared the “unofficial party anthem” of the year 2000 with the minor modern-rock charter, “Feel Good Hit of the Summer”, but it is the sly, extremely referential but never apish, non-considered tracks like “Better Living Through Chemistry” or the Lanegan-delivered “Auto Pilot” that would quickly become crowd favorites together and separate of their boldly melancholic yet informed sentiments. Queens fused fused their identity as both the figure head for that moniker unwanted but not unwelcomed at the turn of the century; as grunge gave way to a much more fraternity sensibility, and rock turned its back on those that had grown-up with a generational fissure in music and culture and instead got in bed with heavily produced schlock, the band bounced playful alongside the genre, never refuting it or denying, confirming or disproving, and Rated R is their stand: fly the freak flag high. Download “Rated R Deluxe Edition”Listen to “Auto Pilot” (Live in Sweden, 2003) and “Monsters in the Parasol“ 

By it’s very definition, stoner rock is a misnomer—think of your favorite song; did the writer(s) do it under the influence of some sort of illicit substance. If it appeared, well, ever, then likelihood has it that there was some sort of extra-human substance or influence involved. That being said, somewhere within the dumb post-grunge millennial hoopla that swept and consumed modern rock, Queens of the Stone Age’s second album, the aptly titled Rated R (2000), was lumped in with a genre that creaked and groaned with a certain desert-fried intelligence and history, unlike the ham-fisted rock typification in fashion at the time. Meaty while simultaneously sparse and mysterious, Homme, Oliveri & Co. produced a wholly unique creation. As Dr. Hunter S. Thompson said of this singularity, “A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.” And if any band embodied that almost literary sense of difference, it was the Queens; having already produced a masterful and sonically duplicitous (though entirely self-aware self-titled debut), Rated R, here reissued with a slew of b-sides and a recorded live set from their rookie years, stands by the original tracklisting—still packing a one-two barfight knockout. So, while Homme has risen to the level of artful coordinator of riffage since his Kyuss days, Rated R stands as a testament to his power as both a band leader and somewhat of a stylistic guide to the band. Oliveri, matching him in wit but out-classing him in aggression, plays to his counterparts strength as a songwriter, and Homme to him. Queens declared the “unofficial party anthem” of the year 2000 with the minor modern-rock charter, “Feel Good Hit of the Summer”, but it is the sly, extremely referential but never apish, non-considered tracks like “Better Living Through Chemistry” or the Lanegan-delivered “Auto Pilot” that would quickly become crowd favorites together and separate of their boldly melancholic yet informed sentiments. Queens fused fused their identity as both the figure head for that moniker unwanted but not unwelcomed at the turn of the century; as grunge gave way to a much more fraternity sensibility, and rock turned its back on those that had grown-up with a generational fissure in music and culture and instead got in bed with heavily produced schlock, the band bounced playful alongside the genre, never refuting it or denying, confirming or disproving, and Rated R is their stand: fly the freak flag high.

Download “Rated R Deluxe Edition”
Listen to “Auto Pilot” (Live in Sweden, 2003) and “Monsters in the Parasol“ 

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We’re back - Click through to recommend An Album a Day for Tumblr Tuesday!

We’re back - Click through to recommend An Album a Day for Tumblr Tuesday!

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Short and sweet, The Upholsterers one and only single, Makers of High Grade Suites (2000), may be something of a footnote for one half of the duo (the indomitable Jack White), but it is an almost perfect encapsulation of the raw and unbridled fury of turn-of-the-century garage rock. Perfectly reimagined blues classics such as Willie Dixon’s “Ain’t Superstitious” and oddball outsider Jack Starr’s “Pain (Gimme Sympathy)” stand strongly along side the strangely compelling White composition, “Apple of My Eye”. Characteristic of White’s playing and style, the album is loud and crunchy, lo-fi, but perfectly audible. Bandmate and White’s former upholstery teacher, Brian Muldoon sets down an easy and gritty backing with his keen drumming, but as always, White’s guitar takes the focal point. If the White Stripes hadn’t worked out, we still would’ve heard White one way or another, and Makers of High Grade Suites simply attests to that. Listen to “Apple of My Eye”Download “Makers of High Grade Suites“  P.S. 200th post! It’s good to be back.

Short and sweet, The Upholsterers one and only single, Makers of High Grade Suites (2000), may be something of a footnote for one half of the duo (the indomitable Jack White), but it is an almost perfect encapsulation of the raw and unbridled fury of turn-of-the-century garage rock. Perfectly reimagined blues classics such as Willie Dixon’s “Ain’t Superstitious” and oddball outsider Jack Starr’s “Pain (Gimme Sympathy)” stand strongly along side the strangely compelling White composition, “Apple of My Eye”. Characteristic of White’s playing and style, the album is loud and crunchy, lo-fi, but perfectly audible. Bandmate and White’s former upholstery teacher, Brian Muldoon sets down an easy and gritty backing with his keen drumming, but as always, White’s guitar takes the focal point. If the White Stripes hadn’t worked out, we still would’ve heard White one way or another, and Makers of High Grade Suites simply attests to that.

Listen to “Apple of My Eye”
Download “Makers of High Grade Suites“ 

P.S. 200th post! It’s good to be back.

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So how do you step out of the shadow of the godheads of French House? Sound exactly like them, apparently. Louis La Roche, for the last two years has crawled through the dregs of Daft Punk knockoffs to come out at the top of the heap, being less derivative and more dedicated to bringing the same thumping, pulsing melodica of classic House back to the forefront of the French mindset and club-goers everywhere. At times cheesy, but crafted with enough tongue-in-cheek to remind us that dance music is about just that - dancing and having fun - La Roche makes good use of 120+ BPM tempos to enforce a strict code of ‘get down’ with tracks like “Get Down” and “Love”. But it’s on the Peach EP’s (2008) penultimate song, “Do You Remember”, that we get the most convincing sign of a true genius: wet wah-wah squeal’s over a genius Motown-esque sample asking the listener to “turn back the time to the days when our love new,” - it’s the perfect sentiment to sum up a man who holds the gods in high favor, but blazes his own path through retrospective respect to unlock the all the hips on the dancefloor. Listen to “Do You Remember”Download “The Peach EP”

So how do you step out of the shadow of the godheads of French House? Sound exactly like them, apparently. Louis La Roche, for the last two years has crawled through the dregs of Daft Punk knockoffs to come out at the top of the heap, being less derivative and more dedicated to bringing the same thumping, pulsing melodica of classic House back to the forefront of the French mindset and club-goers everywhere. At times cheesy, but crafted with enough tongue-in-cheek to remind us that dance music is about just that - dancing and having fun - La Roche makes good use of 120+ BPM tempos to enforce a strict code of ‘get down’ with tracks like “Get Down” and “Love”. But it’s on the Peach EP’s (2008) penultimate song, “Do You Remember”, that we get the most convincing sign of a true genius: wet wah-wah squeal’s over a genius Motown-esque sample asking the listener to “turn back the time to the days when our love new,” - it’s the perfect sentiment to sum up a man who holds the gods in high favor, but blazes his own path through retrospective respect to unlock the all the hips on the dancefloor.

Listen to “Do You Remember”
Download “The Peach EP”

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Caught somewhere between Madchester and Gallagher-ism’s, Urban Hymns (1997) found the Manc’s of The Verve picking up the pieces of a broken scene and doing the best they could with the materials on hand. It wouldn’t be long before Creation Records saw its demise, and Cool Britannia had taken its toll, and all the while Britpop had slowly been the infection killing British music; through it all, and not without a few breakups, the Verve had been quietly (though musically as well) biding their time. And then their moment struck, in a chiming, simple four note sample taken from the Rolling Stones. “Bittersweet Symphony” became one of the fastest selling singles of the year and broke the band across the pond; but it is not simply that song and its ensuing controversy that made the band infamous, but rather, the hypermelodic, groovy lull of Urban Hymns which signaled a band that had stepped into the groove and hit their stride almost perfectly. The blue croon of singer Richard Ashcroft made other singles such as “The Drugs Don’t Work” and “Sonnet” smashes as well, but it the collective din of the band, somewhere between Spacemen 3 in rehab and The London Philharmonic on acid that makes them so appealing. Guitarist Nick McCabe’s unhinged and primal playing gives the album a definite hamfistedness that bobs around through the course of the record, but over 75 minutes, The Verve create what could be considered the first post-Britpop album. They touch on everything that came before and make very direct allusion to what would come next with British bands like Supergrass and Grandaddy and even Coldplay; a mash of superproduced rhythmic histrionics matched with an equally deft sense of drive and purpose. If only Oasis had taken notes. Listen to “The Drugs Don’t Work” and “Catching the Butterfly” (Live, 1998)Download “Urban Hymns“ 

Caught somewhere between Madchester and Gallagher-ism’s, Urban Hymns (1997) found the Manc’s of The Verve picking up the pieces of a broken scene and doing the best they could with the materials on hand. It wouldn’t be long before Creation Records saw its demise, and Cool Britannia had taken its toll, and all the while Britpop had slowly been the infection killing British music; through it all, and not without a few breakups, the Verve had been quietly (though musically as well) biding their time. And then their moment struck, in a chiming, simple four note sample taken from the Rolling Stones. “Bittersweet Symphony” became one of the fastest selling singles of the year and broke the band across the pond; but it is not simply that song and its ensuing controversy that made the band infamous, but rather, the hypermelodic, groovy lull of Urban Hymns which signaled a band that had stepped into the groove and hit their stride almost perfectly. The blue croon of singer Richard Ashcroft made other singles such as “The Drugs Don’t Work” and “Sonnet” smashes as well, but it the collective din of the band, somewhere between Spacemen 3 in rehab and The London Philharmonic on acid that makes them so appealing. Guitarist Nick McCabe’s unhinged and primal playing gives the album a definite hamfistedness that bobs around through the course of the record, but over 75 minutes, The Verve create what could be considered the first post-Britpop album. They touch on everything that came before and make very direct allusion to what would come next with British bands like Supergrass and Grandaddy and even Coldplay; a mash of superproduced rhythmic histrionics matched with an equally deft sense of drive and purpose. If only Oasis had taken notes.

Listen to “The Drugs Don’t Work” and “Catching the Butterfly” (Live, 1998)
Download “Urban Hymns“ 

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Careful not to retread over past ground, but remaining mindful and conscious of their past as much as their roots, the Black Keys bring an even fuller and smarter sound to their newest album, Brothers (2010). Leading off with a sexy, slow burner where lead guitarist/vocalist Dan Auerbach finds his inner Prince (“Everlasting Light”) soon finding legs with the Marvin Gaye meets Superfly uptempo of “Tighten Up”, the album is rife with nods and grabs at a much more classic sound than even the Keys could have thought they were capable of. It could’ve been the short, if not extremely productive, hiatus that the band took over the last year or so which found Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney expanding on their own repertoire, Auerbach with a solo album, and the pair with the hip-hop blues hybrid of Blackrok (2009), which has sharpened their focus and made Brothers their most cohesive record since 2003’s Thickfreakness. The sludgy, soulful super-riffage is still all there, but Auerbach and Carney shock their sound with even more instrumentation than 2008’s Attack & Release and still find the sweet spot in between groovy minimalistic blues and deeply heavy soul jams. Brothers is truly an album about finding a stride, and the Keys have surely hit it on this one. Listen to “Next Girl” and “Tighten Up”Download “Brothers“ 

Careful not to retread over past ground, but remaining mindful and conscious of their past as much as their roots, the Black Keys bring an even fuller and smarter sound to their newest album, Brothers (2010). Leading off with a sexy, slow burner where lead guitarist/vocalist Dan Auerbach finds his inner Prince (“Everlasting Light”) soon finding legs with the Marvin Gaye meets Superfly uptempo of “Tighten Up”, the album is rife with nods and grabs at a much more classic sound than even the Keys could have thought they were capable of. It could’ve been the short, if not extremely productive, hiatus that the band took over the last year or so which found Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney expanding on their own repertoire, Auerbach with a solo album, and the pair with the hip-hop blues hybrid of Blackrok (2009), which has sharpened their focus and made Brothers their most cohesive record since 2003’s Thickfreakness. The sludgy, soulful super-riffage is still all there, but Auerbach and Carney shock their sound with even more instrumentation than 2008’s Attack & Release and still find the sweet spot in between groovy minimalistic blues and deeply heavy soul jams. Brothers is truly an album about finding a stride, and the Keys have surely hit it on this one.

Listen to “Next Girl” and “Tighten Up”
Download “Brothers“ 

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Metal Box (1979), above even Public Image Ltd.’s debut, is the quintessential post-punk record. Forget Factory Records and Joy Division for a moment and remember that the UK Punk scene, first and foremost, was based around the Sex Pistols. After their demise, Punk was essentially defunct and John Lydon, formerly Johnny Rotten, began to pick up the pieces in the only way that seemed to make sense - put them back together in an entirely new fashion. Always the provocateur, their first record, First Issue (1978), challenged the notions of abstract music in a pop setting, but it was Metal Box (later renamed and re-released as Second Issue), that took their deconstructionist approach to a new tier of postmodernity. From the ambling, kaleidoscopic meandering’s of “Poptones” to the jaunty, haunting grin of “Careering”, you can find shades of almost any group that existed afterwards (i.e. The Rapture, The Futureheads, and many others). The production was groundbreaking in the use of atonal, fractured, flash-recordings that never seem to come from any place but nowhere, mixing dub, reggae, experimental, funk, and whatever else could be thrown in the the bombastic combination. Metal Box seems to exist in the space in-between convention and disharmony, creating the perfect soundtrack for the post-everything era. Listen to “Poptones/Careering” (Live on American TV, 1980) and “Bad Baby” (Live, 1980)Download “Metal Box“ 

Metal Box (1979), above even Public Image Ltd.’s debut, is the quintessential post-punk record. Forget Factory Records and Joy Division for a moment and remember that the UK Punk scene, first and foremost, was based around the Sex Pistols. After their demise, Punk was essentially defunct and John Lydon, formerly Johnny Rotten, began to pick up the pieces in the only way that seemed to make sense - put them back together in an entirely new fashion. Always the provocateur, their first record, First Issue (1978), challenged the notions of abstract music in a pop setting, but it was Metal Box (later renamed and re-released as Second Issue), that took their deconstructionist approach to a new tier of postmodernity. From the ambling, kaleidoscopic meandering’s of “Poptones” to the jaunty, haunting grin of “Careering”, you can find shades of almost any group that existed afterwards (i.e. The Rapture, The Futureheads, and many others). The production was groundbreaking in the use of atonal, fractured, flash-recordings that never seem to come from any place but nowhere, mixing dub, reggae, experimental, funk, and whatever else could be thrown in the the bombastic combination. Metal Box seems to exist in the space in-between convention and disharmony, creating the perfect soundtrack for the post-everything era.

Listen to “Poptones/Careering” (Live on American TV, 1980) and “Bad Baby” (Live, 1980)
Download “Metal Box“ 

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Probably one of the most memorable modern hip-hop samples, Ann Peebles I Can’t Stand the Rain (1974) is a triumph of the high-funk period. Riding the wave of 2nd-wave feminist soul inclinations, Peebles engendered the album with a beautiful fury, capturing the moment like lightning in a bottle. Hot off the heels of such monumental black-American achievements as Wattstax and the emerging West coast funk movement, I Can’t Stand the Rain, with its eponymous title track made Peebles more than synonymous with a certain style and focus that was undeniable groovy, deliciously sexy, and unaccountably timely. “I’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down” is a perfect example of Peebles smooth and sultry delivery, belying a much more pressing and smart agenda. Everything is here: dynamic production, great melodies, and even better vocals courtesy of Peebles. Truly a classic. Listen to “I Can’t Stand the Rain” (Live) and “Run, Run, Run”Download “I Can’t Stand the Rain“ 

Probably one of the most memorable modern hip-hop samples, Ann Peebles I Can’t Stand the Rain (1974) is a triumph of the high-funk period. Riding the wave of 2nd-wave feminist soul inclinations, Peebles engendered the album with a beautiful fury, capturing the moment like lightning in a bottle. Hot off the heels of such monumental black-American achievements as Wattstax and the emerging West coast funk movement, I Can’t Stand the Rain, with its eponymous title track made Peebles more than synonymous with a certain style and focus that was undeniable groovy, deliciously sexy, and unaccountably timely. “I’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down” is a perfect example of Peebles smooth and sultry delivery, belying a much more pressing and smart agenda. Everything is here: dynamic production, great melodies, and even better vocals courtesy of Peebles. Truly a classic.

Listen to “I Can’t Stand the Rain” (Live) and “Run, Run, Run”
Download “I Can’t Stand the Rain“ 

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All links to downloads are not owned or hosted by this site. The content of these links are the copyrighted materials and property of their creators and their owners. I post these links and summaries in an effort to enlighten and share music, not to proliferate illegal activities. Please go out and buy the music of these artists and support your local record stores. Thank you.