Dear POOPster:
So . . . there seems to be some agreement that 2016 could have been a tad better. If I may speak for many of you here, fuck you 2016, fuck you for so many reasons. As we approach the end of the world as we know it, we will have to find strength in the little things, as trivial as they might seem right now. And what could be more trivial than the 30th Annual(!) POOPlist.
Albums 1. Kanye West, The Life of Pablo 2. Kvelertak, Nattesferd 3. Car Seat Headrest, Teens of Denial 4. Nails, You Will Never Be One of Us 5. Danny Brown, Atrocity Exhibition 6. The Avalanches, Wildflower 7. Heron Oblivion, Heron Oblivion 8. Bon Iver, 22, A Million 9. The Julie Ruin, Hit Reset 10. Metallica, Hardwired… To Self-Destruct Apologies: Angel Olsen, My Woman; Nicolas Jaar, Sirens; Mean Jeans, Tight New Dimension; Preoccupations, Preoccupations; Diarrhea Planet, Turn to Gold It’s good that we got life-affirming, politically charged music this year–we needed it. This is the uncynical take….
2015 just might become known as the year to beat when it comes to unbridled stupidity in America. But more alarming than that, I fear that with good ol’ American gumption, the coming election year will no doubt leave it behind in the dust. Recently I learned that the oft paraphrased H.L. Mencken quote, the one about how no one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people, actually had an even more apropos follow-up sentence: “Nor has anyone ever lost public office thereby.” But while the American political system as we know it is currently circling the drain, we the POmpous and OPinionated have responded in the best manner we know. While some of those who would be President prattle on in their assholier-than-thou vitriol, 25 POOPsters have found 10 or 25 or so causes for which to campaign, with civil discourse and free of all squirmishes (thanks, Sarah P!). Feel the POOP.
As with Sun Kil Moon last year, a single, sharp voice made the year for me—Father John Misty’s album is all at once great entertainment, giddy yet devastating satire, somber true-life folk. New friend Barnett and old friend Finn took me similar places, small stories, less-than-small stakes, real voices. The deservingly ubiquitous Lamar album totally mystified me at first but was impossible to shake off, blossoming the more I played it and talked about it.
2014 was a pretty rough year for the world. While good music might ordinarily offer a diversion from the bad and the ugly, occasionally a year comes dangerously close to getting its ass kicked. Seasoned as we are after 28 years of committing POOP to paper and post, we persevere and continue (in the face of beheadings, ebola, Boehner’s new band of blowhards, “I can’t breathe,” and climate calamity) to cling to both bad alliterations and silly year-end lists. Or do we? This year only 26 self-important pontificators got their cool cards punched (2 fewer than last year).
1) Sun Kil Moon – Benji (Caldo Verde) >> Ultimately, I’m kind of glad that Kozelek threw himself from grace with the War on Drugs stuff. The shine on this album was a little too bright. I’m not talking about discovery greed here; it’s not that I wanted this thing to myself, or could ever imagine having it that way (who would even admit to that!?). …
Dear POOPster: I know you’ve been waiting with bad breath for the front-page POOP analysis and tabulation. So on this occasion, the 27th annual foray into the realm of the POmpous and the OPinionated, I present to you the combined musings of pretty much the same gaggle of blowhards, 28 of them to be exact. For reasons that both escape and annoy me, we are once again an almost entirely male sampling of swillmeisters; it’s getting right testosterony up in here. Talk about fitting the record geek profile. . . Anyway, to the Price-Waterhouse stuff. As usual, I’ve attempted to…