My starting five have been rock-solid of late, a great mix of grizzled veterans, quiet performers, and young up-and-comers. Rain delays, short rest, long road trips -- nothing fazes them.
M. Ward, Hold Time: M. (for Matt) Ward has been around a decade as an indy folk-rock mainstay -- some would say godhead -- which doesn't quite make him an up-and-comer. But he's just now getting national spotlight, often for being an old-fashioned guy. And his new album shows it: "Never Had Nobody Like You" is built on a softened but reverential version of Gary Glitter's glam-rock stomp. "To Save Me" has the percussive piano and castanet roll of The Ronettes' "Be My Baby" plus some very ELO-ish swirls. And the title track feels filtered through the gauze of John Lennon's "#9 Dream." Not to mention that he covers Buddy Holly's "Rave On." I've gone through it top to bottom a few times, and nothing so far has the impact of his classic "Chinese Translation," but seeing how many decades run through the album, I'm willing to give it plenty of time.
Fanfarlo, Reservoir: If they're good enough for Sigur Ros, they're good enough for me, especially when they offer their first full-length album for a $1 download (limited time offer, must act now!). If you're completely confused, Sigur Ros is a very eccentric, very talented group from Iceland, and I'm on their mailing list. They gave Fanfarlo a shout-out, and for good reason: They play a warm, communal, propulsive rock with lots of fun instruments -- think Arcade Fire without the grating manic edge.
Sonic Youth, Washing Machine: Eagerly awaiting SY's latest, "The Eternal," and the bits I've heard so far are promising. There's not much middle ground with the band, which tends to provoke cultish loyalty or a lot of wincing, but if you've never heard them, Washing Machine (1995) is a good place to start. It's got the lean, muscular cool-thing sound they do so well, as well as the noise-feedback freakouts, but there's a dreamy element to it, too, with two meandering songs. The title track also has one of my favorite Youth moments, Kim Gordon's shaggy-dog tale of a dream in which a woman appears in the sky, throws her a quarter, and says, "Honey, here's a quarter. Go put it in a washing machine." It's the downtown version of Flava Flav's classic admonition, "Wash yo' butt!" Spoon, "My Little Japanese Cigarette Case": Other art forms have their masterful minimalist moments. Rock and roll does, too, and one of my favorites is this song, which has four lines that repeat and repeat, with various layers of percussion, background vocals, and riffs (is that a harpsichord solo?) added and subtracted without ever losing the song's chugging momentum.
The Staple Singers, Best of The Staple Singers: There's something a little stiff about the studio work of world's warmest, fuzziest gospel-singing family. Perhaps "square" is more like it. They often served as a counterweight to droogy freak shows of the late sixties (on a bill with Love and Rahsaan Roland Kirk -- dig!), and their best-of collection is relentlessly uplifting. I can only take so much of it. Catch old recordings of them live for maximum effect. They provide perhaps the highlight of The Last Waltz with a cover of the Band's "The Weight," filmed separately from the concert itself. Live or not, I can listen a million times to their 1972 #1 hit "I'll Take You There," car ad be damned. (Yes, it was made into an ad. Please don't go looking for it unless you want images of mid-size American crap permanently associated with the song.)
