Three More Records I Accidentally Left Off My Best of 2010 List.

I told you that there were probably more. I meant to write this post like a month ago and have been putting it off, but I figured if I squeak it in before March it's still relevant, right? And I consider myself an organized person... I'm going to do better this year. I've already got a list going in my phone, so whenever I listen to a new record, I write it down. We'll see how that works. And since when do I listen to 30 albums in a year? That part I'm excited about. Anyway, here are three more that I'm embarrassed to say I left off the list.

Busdriver - Computer Cooties

I sort of get a pass on this one because it's a download-only mixtape, so the usual process of buying it didn't happen. But, really, that's no excuse. This is best (legitimately) free album that came out in 2010, and for as much as I listened to it, I don't know how it slipped my mind 'round list time. Whatever. I'm singing its praises now, even though I wouldn't necessarily recommend it as an introduction to the man and his music. Well, I would, but with the warning that a lot of the stuff on here is not really representative of Busdriver's overall sound. I'm probably overthinking it. You should go here and listen to it or download it and see what you think. I think it is good.

"Beats Way Sick"


MC Paul Barman - Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud

The return of Paul Barman! This album is a beast, and if you didn't like Paul Barman before, you won't like him now. But if you like him and have been missing him (this is my deal), then you're in luck, because there are 22 songs on here, with diverse-ass production and styles that Paul has never tackled before. (I don't even know what to call this one.) But more than anything, there's the crazy wordplay, and that's why you listen to MCPB, isn't it? That's why I do. And I'm still finding new shit in all the layers of this thing.

(Edit: I just realized that this album came out at the end of 2009. Still, I've never mentioned it here. So I'm leaving it in this list. Technicalities be damned!)

"Owl Pellets"


Maximum Balloon - Maximum Balloon

Full disclosure: I didn't even hear this until the year was over, and it's only been recently that I've been rocking it hard. How this one slipped through the cracks is a real mystery to me. The dude from TV on the Radio goes solo and I don't buy the shit out of it immediately upon its release? I'm losing it. But I choose not to dwell on the past. Instead, I put this in the CD player of my car and hope to one day be able to make beats even half this good. I'm going to be listening to this one for a long time. This song is incredible:

"Groove Me"

All right. I think that's all I got. Hey, who's happy that I'm back writing in this damn blog again?

Proz and Conz - Life I Lead (CD, 2000)

Turn-of-the-century Portland hip hop in the heezy.

My brother will have to refresh my memory as to how we got into this group. I seem to remember seeing them live and thinking they were pretty sweet, but I can't for the life of me remember what show they would have been the opener for. Now I'm doubting the fact that I ever saw them. That doesn't really matter. What does matter is that these dudes were some up-and-comers in the Portland hip hop scene when that label barely existed, so we thought they were pretty cool. I still do. This CD has some sweet cuts on it.

I think my brother had both of their CDs (I believe Posanegavybe was the other one, and it came out the year before this one), but this is the only one I ever ended up with, and I don't think I even bought it until maybe five years ago. And talk about discs I haven't played in a long time. I forgot I even had this thing. And while some of it's coming back to me now, there's really only a few songs that stand out, and among those, one in particular: "Master of Ceremonies," a song that we used to rock repeatedly in car rides, because it is supremely awesome. Of course I can't find a full version of it online. Bleh.

I always got the vibe that these guys weren't too far out of high school when they released this, so it's no surprise that they didn't stay together for a long time. But good local hip hop was tough to come by back then, so we were happy to have discovered these dudes. I'm going to have to go back and get to know this one again.

"Life Story"

Proof - Searching for Jerry Garcia (CD, 2005)

I haven't listened to this CD in years, and though I know I got it for free, I can't exactly remember how that happened. Maybe through my job?

However it happened, I was happy, because I was actually really curious to hear this album, but not curious enough to shell out the money to make that occur. I listen to Eminem and I listen to D12, and Proof's shape-shifting has always been intriguing to me. He's the only one in the D12 posse who doesn't stick with one style, and maybe it's because of that that he struck me as the one with the most to offer.

I'm listening to this now and not much is coming back to me, so I don't know how much I can really say about it. But Proof was a solid rapper, and though I guess this record didn't hit me hard enough to keep me coming back, I still have it, so there must me something to it. Right...? I remember being floored that Eminem only shows up on one song, and his name's not even listed on the back of the disc (he's just included in D12 on the song "Pimplikeness"). I figured he'd be all over this thing.

Method Man and B-Real guest on "High Rollers," and if you can't guess what that song's about, you're not allowed to listen to rap music anymore. 50 Cent and Obie Trice also show up (on separate songs), and so does Nate Dogg, so you know Proof's got his guest spot game on lock.

At 20 tracks and almost 70 minutes, I think I'm starting to remember why I didn't listen to this thing a ton: it's a beast. But it's cool to have, and there's even a DVD that comes with it. I should watch that sometime... And as usual, Bizarre can bring an entire album to a halt with his shittiness. It still floors me that this guy ever got on a record. (Just like to throw that out there whenever I can.)

"Biboa's Theme"

The Promise Ring - Wood/Water (CD, 2002)

In between Very Emergency and this, the band's last album, lead singer Davey von Bohlen developed a brain tumor and had surgery to have it removed. Much has been written about how that event affected the overall scope of Wood/Water, but I think those theories are reaching a bit.

What I hear when I listen to this record is another natural shift in the band's sound. And yes, some of the lyrics are noticeably morose, and the overall feel of the album is noticeably darker than its predecessor, but that's not saying much. Very Emergency was shockingly bright; almost anything was going to be a step in a more sullen direction. I guess what I'm saying is I don't really give a shit about any of that. I think this is a really fantastic album, and it's always annoyed me that it's their most divisive.

This was the only record that The Promise Ring put out when I was a current fan, so it's the only one for which I experienced any anticipation. I wasn't freaking out, waiting for its release, but I didn't waste much time buying it when it came out. (Still regret not buying the 2x10" version. Don't see those around much anymore.) But here's what irked me: Spin had done nothing but build up the band during the late 90's, and were clearly fans. But when this record came out, they gave it a 5/10 and compared the band to Train. Yeah, it's just a review, but it was the lead review in the issue and it was dickish. The Promise Ring broke up shortly after this album was released.

I'm not saying that the review had anything to do with it, but for some reason it felt like that to me. I dunno. A lot of great records are the ones that you don't see coming, and I feel like that's the deal with this one. And I felt like the band was just getting started with a new sound on this thing. It doesn't sound like a Promise Ring record. It doesn't really sound like any other record I own. It's a weird side of a band that had never even flirted with being weird. And I really feel like it worked.

I'm not sure how this record comes across without any frame of reference to their previous output, but if you need a good rainy-dayer, I'd look into this one. I'll just leave it at that. And we'll leave The Promise Ring with that.

"Stop Playing Guitar"

The Promise Ring - Very Emergency (CD, 1999)

I think I mentioned it before, but if I didn't: this was the first Promise Ring album I bought. Picked it up brand new on vinyl (apparently I sold that at some point) after reading a bunch of complimentary articles about the band. I didn't really know what to expect, but given that they were synonymous with the "emo" label, I guess I figured their music would be way more forlorn and depressing than the songs on this record.

In fact, when I heard the opener, "Happiness is All the Rage," I was struck by the feeling that I had made a bad call in picking up the record. "Skips a Beat (Over You)" and "Arms and Danger" (though that one may be sarcastic in its intentions) did little to assuage that notion. After I accepted the record for what it is - peppy pop that is sometimes way too enthusiastic - I learned to enjoy it, though a bit guiltily.

Let's be honest: I'm not usually into bands that regularly tour with Jimmy Eat World. But I liked these songs, and as I mentioned before, this record caught me at a time when I may have been a little more vulnerable to music that was expressing feelings, no matter what they might be. And if this album put me a better mood than I was often in, I don't see the harm in that.

But I don't want to spend this space defending my enjoyment of The Promise Ring (though I apparently feel like I need to). They're certainly not for everybody, but they definitely heavily connect with some people. I don't think I'm that person anymore, because I rarely listen to this record these days. But, I also don't plan on getting rid of it.

If nothing else, it still reminds me of being up at 4am on a Tuesday while singing along with "All of My Everythings." Which is a depressing memory that I've somehow found a way to cherish. That's the most emo thing I've ever said.

"Emergency! Emergency!"

The Promise Ring - Nothing Feels Good (CD, 1997)

The leap that The Promise Ring made between their debut and this album is fairly astounding.

I don't know if it was due to a better recording environment (the album's production is noticeably sharper), the band honing their sound, or them just getting way better at everything that they were doing (this is my blanket assessment), but when "Is This Thing On?" blasts in, opening the record, it barely sounds like the same band. Davey von Bohlen sounds way more assertive on the lead vocals, and instead of the ramshackle rhythms that characterized their first record, they favor a much more propulsive sound.

And not just on that track. "Why Did Ever We Meet" (arguably their signature song) is another great example, and even the slower songs on the record sound tighter. None of that would matter if the songwriting hadn't followed suit, but it did. There's a reason a lot of folks consider this the quintessential "emo" record: it's really good. It's probably their best, but I don't know if it's my favorite. I realize that statement makes little sense. But I'm partial to Wood/Water. We'll get to that.

Anyway, if you know any depressed teenage dudes, give them this record and a couple wine coolers and they'll either feel way better or way worse after they listen to repeatedly in their dark teenage bedroom. Probably better. This record still puts me in a good mood. I'm man enough to admit that.

"Why Did Ever We Meet"

The Promise Ring - The Horse Latitudes (CD, 1997)

This transitional EP collects tracks from The Promise Ring's first three 7"s (one of which I used to have, and must have gotten rid of when I bought this), and adds two other songs that were unavailable elsewhere.

These tracks are from the same era as their debut (some before), and so there's not much movement here. The songs are solid enough, and the two previously unreleased songs ("Miette" and "I Never Trusted the Russians") are short on lyrics, but otherwise don't show any outward signs of why they hadn't seen the light of day.

I never listened to this disc much. It's short, and though, like I said, it's not bad, it really does feel like a collection of singles, so there's not a lot of cohesion to it. Not that that's an excuse to not take a shine to it, but I guess I'm using it as one. And, the production on these tracks suffers from some of the same flaws as their debut: vocals are buried, guitars are undefined, and drums are thuddy.

A nice companion to the first album, I suppose, but again, it sounds noticeably elementary compared to their next stuff.

"E. Texas Ave."