bed. – The Definition of Portland Slow-Fi


bed2Usually a band’s self-chosen genre label is more a sign of what they wish they sounded like, rather than what they actually sound like. But Portland’s bed. seem to have struck the nail fairly squarely with “Slow-Fi.” Basically it’s their way of saying they love the fuck out of Sonic Youth, so whatever you would call Sonic Youth is what they would want you to call them. So… slow-fi – sure, I dig it. It gives a false impression of their standard tempos, but it paints the picture pretty clearly. Shoegaze, reverb, garages, intentionally sludgy guitar chords – you know… slow-fi. And I know what you’re thinking – another three-letter, un-capitalized band name that ends in a period? Yeah, I’m not sure what to say about that one. But I suppose moe. are a jamband, and fun. are pop-rock, so it was time for somebody in the indie-rock scene to utilize the formula.

For a band that only left California a year and a half ago, bed. have a rather auspicious sound for Portland – this is good “fuck it’s raining again” music. And that means they have tunes that range from being ideal for the bong-hit isolation of your living room couch to being the perfect soundtrack for kick-ass bike rides in a downpour. When this kind of music is made by a bunch of bros who don’t eat meat because Morrissey told them not to, it usually tends to come off as pompous and self-indulgent, but when it’s made by a married couple, as is the case here with Alex and Sierra Haager, there’s an earnest resonance that shines through. Give it up to the power of mutual love for transcending the drudgery of a droning guitar line. Their overlapping vocal lines are what will tug at your heart strings the hardest, and call to mind my favorite cuts from Low - aka the ones that didn’t used to put me to sleep. At other times, they can sound like Karen O singing with Yuck, but the pre-departure of Daniel Blumberg Yuck, not the Blumberg-less version. And if that comment resonates with you in any recognizable fashion, then go ahead and give yourself +3 music nerd points. Check out both ends of bed.’s spectrum below.

Top 5 Bands With Double Drummers


The notion of having two drummers on stage can seem rather superfluous to some. Too many beats can confound the pocket, and depending on where you’re at in your career – good luck on finding stages that can easily fit too full kits. But when the double-drummer setup is ideally realized, a magic balance can happen where the rhythm dances between bouts of syncopation and mind-melded lock. It can elevate a solid band into a cascading army of sonic domination. When The Grateful Dead played Playboy After Dark in 1969, Hugh Hefner asked Jerry Garcia what the purpose was for having two drummers, to which he replied: “Mutual annihilation. They chase each other around. It’s like the serpent that eats its own tail, and it goes round and round like that. And if you can stand in between them, they make big figure eights on their sides in your head.”

I used a few stricter than normal guidelines to compile this list. First off, two full kits were necessary. The elaborate percussionist isn’t enough to fit the bill, so that’s why there’s no Pavement, Tortoise, or Arcade Fire. Secondly, the double-drummer set-up had to be a core element of the band, not one that just existed for the occasional tour. This is why there’s no King Crimson, Radiohead, Fugazi, or Frank Zappa. However, I will use any excuse to post a link to Joe Cocker‘s Mad Dogs & Englishmen Tour from 1970, so definitely watch “The Letter” if you never have to see Jim Gordon and Jim Keltner go heavy. So with that all being said, here’s the top five bands which in my opinion embody the essence and necessity of being for having two drummers.

5) Bloc Party – While they didn’t use the double-kits on every song, and while it looks like they’ve been utilizing them less in recent years, these Brits crafted a percussive strength that elevated them high above their sonic peers. These guys have never really gotten the respect they deserve stateside, and I think part of it stems from folks not realizing how massive they are live.

4) Mice Parade – The greatest band on the planet that most people have still never heard of. Adam Pierce is a genius composer of percussive, indie-shoegaze rock, and when he puts down the guitar to join Doug Scharin on the double kits you can actually feel your innards start to rumble. I fucking love this band.

3) Polica – I think a lot of people listen to their albums and falsely assume the band is fueled by keyboards and laptops. They’re completely undeniable live though, and it’s hard to not be fully consumed by the dominating rhythm section on stage. They’re one of my favorite new live bands, and part of that stems from the fact that nobody else is doing it like they are right now.

2) The Allman Brothers Band - Could you even imagine this band without two drummers? That mountain rumble gets your heart charging in a fashion that could make you presume they invented psilocybin just for this band. Other than Greg AllmanJaimoe and Butch Trucks were the only members of the band that were there for all 45 years, and things probably would have never lasted as long as they did without their tag-team assault in constant propulsion form.

1) The Grateful Dead - Despite some of my favorite GD actually being the years when Mickey Hart wasn’t around, it’s hard to argue that any other band defined the notion of double-drumming like the Dead. Billy Kreutzann and Hart would sync their heartbeats before walking on stage, and embodied the Ouroboros that Garcia spoke of. The Dead made self-indulgence an acceptable part of their gigs, and made thousands of fans accept half-hour long drums segments as the norm.

Lady Gaga’s Most Shocking Move Is Showing The World That She Can Actually Sing


zzzzgagaFor some reason unbeknownst to my inner core, I watched the Oscars last night. Idols, fame, superstars, blah blah blah – we’ve all bitched about it plenty of times before. The next person who says something to me like I should actually be paying attention to terrorist acts in Nairobi instead of glorifying move stars deserves a slap in the head. Yeah, I get it – there’s horrible shit happening all over the world and we should be honoring teachers and doctors instead of millionaire actors. But just because I occasionally like to be entertained by insignificant trifle doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to the horrors of the world. If you can’t take an hour or two to laugh at stupid shit, then why should you care about fixing the planet anyway? Just so we can all sit calmly with blank expressions on our face? Quality entertainment is a blessing to and from humanity and your bitching about the attention we put on movie stars is becoming far more obnoxious than the actual thing you’re complaining about.

That being said, if there’s one obnoxious star who deserves to be bitched about, it’s Lady Gaga. The woman is a fame whore who regularly steals music, releases horrible pop, uses technological scams to manipulate her perceived popularity, and who does dumb shit like dress like an egg to “shock” people. But I’ll tell you what, if the past however many years of her bullshit have all been a cunning ploy to make her incredible performance last night seem all the more stunning, then maybe she’s on to something. However, most people aren’t playing a decade long slow game in the music business. Thus, her performance last night was perhaps the first time she’s ever revealed the true nature of her talent to the public; sadly proving that she and her PR people have long been running on the notion that the shock factor is a greater path to fame than one’s actual talent.

If you didn’t watch last night, Gaga literally stole the show by absolutely nailing a montage of cuts from The Sound Of Music. Now, my wife loves Julie Andrews – literally thinks she is one of the greatest human beings to ever walk this Earth. So when they introduced Gaga prior to her montage, the look of fear in my wife’s already flu-ridden eyes was beyond terror. But I’ll say that within 30 seconds, her mouth was on the floor. The woman was incredible. My assumption is that there aren’t too many folks out there that are big fans of both Andrews and Gaga – they simply exist too far apart on the spectrum of respectable talent. So I’d be willing to bet that the vast majority of all viewers last night had at least an inkling of hesitation about what Gaga was going to do up there. And I’m sure her biggest fans are modern pop-morons who nothing about the history of music, let alone about quality musicals that are half a century old. Thus, the majority of us are folks who have become so accustomed to the woman’s antics that the only thing she could do to shock us anymore would be to drop the whole shtick and actually sing. And fuck me running – it turns out that lady can actually sing like a champ. It was completely and utterly shocking.

So kudos to Gaga for actually showing what she’s capable of. Perhaps this will elevate her to a place where she doesn’t have to rely on cheap tricks to gain notoriety anymore. But really, it makes me think about how sad the current state of pop music is. The fact that a woman can be a multi-millionaire, cultural icon, who’s been selling absurd numbers of albums for nearly a decade, and yet can achieve all that without garnering a single iota of respect from true musicians worldwide is enormously depressing. The fact that not only has she been this talented all along, but that her talent has been perhaps intentionally hidden is horrible. Sure, I understand that she stands up for all these LGBT rights and teaches young kids to be themselves, but think about how much more powerfully those acts would have resonated if kids were able to see that they were being done by an artist with impeccable talent. And don’t try to tell me she’s already been heading on this path by her duet album with Tony Bennett - nobody gives a fuck about Tony Bennett anymore and her collaboration with him seemed just as much like a shocking ploy as her pouring Doritos vomit all over her head. No, it turns out the woman can sing… shockingly well. Hopefully she listens to the shocking levels of admiration that the world is throwing at her today and realizing that she doesn’t need to dress like a gremlin for people to listen to her. Check out the clip below and try to tell me it doesn’t completely revamp your opinion of the woman.

SISTERS – Nu-Soul Pop-Askew From Seattle


unnamedIt’s official – with the emergence of Seattle’s SISTERS, we have officially used every family relationship moniker as a band name. If you’re looking for something kin-related to name your new group, you’re shit out of luck unless you want to go with the Fat Aunt Lindas. Regardless, the multifaceted duo emit an unconditional got-your-back vibe that makes their name seem like a logical choice, despite one of them having a Y chromosome in their genetics. Emily Westman and Andrew Vait’s debut EP, Diamonds of Gold, came out last Fall and your first impression of the group will vary greatly depending on which track hits your ear first.

“Back 2 U” is the standout baby-making cut; a synth-fueled dose of Caucasian soul music that sounds like a stripped down version of modern psych-soul masters, The Stepkids. (See what I did there?) But the punch of the track is all the stronger when heard in context with the rest of the album. In just under 20 minutes, SISTERS are able to swim through contemporary touchstones of quality pop-askew and come out on the other end with a voice all their own. “Chickens Fatten” sounds like a St. Vincent cut that she forgot to lay a guitar track on. “Buzzard” is grandiose in the guilty-pleasure fashion akin to one of those new arena hits you only listen to when you’re alone in the car. “We’re Mean” is all over the friggin’ place, but I mean that in the most complimentary way of bold works that could only exist and function in our current genre-less reality. In general, the band is able to merge music school training with pop sensibility in a fashion that most of their peers are either unaware or fully incapable of.

Their live performances are all the more impressive, as both Emily and Andrew play whatever instrument is necessary at whatever time, but not in the “hey look at what I can do way.” It’s hard for a drummer to play a synth-bass line without making it look like a hokey act, but Westman makes it look like it’s never been done any other way. Despite their name, SISTERS have major balls – utilizing fearless turns of face with no regard to a steady narrative beyond what lies within themselves. The duo’s new single, “Buck,” continues this trend – a linear passage of layers culminate in an art-studio dance-floor explosion, adding yet another dimension to their polygonical nature. It won’t be long before these cats leap out of the Pacific Northwest corner, and that will be a blessing to both music fans and artists alike. They’re poised to keep everyone on their toes, which is good since so many great new acts have a tendency to fall victim to rudimentary formulas – I’m looking at you Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr. Check out all of Diamonds of Gold here, watch a live clip of “Back 2 U” below, and then give “Buck” a spin.

Farewell To Two of The Original Badass Female Singers: Anita Darian & Lesley Gore


When we think of the original bad-ass women in rock and pop, we usually tend to think of the screamers – Janis Joplin or Grace Slick types. But there was a different kind of bad-ass back in the day that has resonated further into the current realm of strong, independent, female rockers – the subtle, sometimes spooky confidence found in the voice of women like Nancy Sinatra. And while many of us are familiar with Nancy because of her last name and the tendency for her songs to fit perfectly into Quentin Tarantino movies, there’s some other voices that probably echo just as loudly in your head, but whose names are slightly less familiar. Sadly, we lost two of those women in the past couple weeks – Anita Darian and Lesley Gore.

zzzlesLesley Gore is sure to ring a lot of bells. Everybody knows “It’s My Party,” which went to number one in 1963 when she was just 16 and still a Junior in High School. That was of course followed up by its sequel – “Judy’s Turn To Cry.” And don’t forget “Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows” which to me has always had that overly-sunny in a creepy way that makes it sound like it’s something a serial-killer would have playing on repeat in their basement ala Buffalo Bill style. But for me the definitive Gore tune is “You Don’t Own Me.” It slanks in with that minor progression while she stakes her female empowerment in a fashion that was quite rare for the early 60’s. It’s the kind of tune that you picture the secretaries from Mad Men sitting alone in the dark listening to, while they cry into a bottle of red wine and contemplate ways to murder their overbearing husbands. Bad-fucking-ass. And it’s easy to listen to it now and realize the mark it’s made on everyone from Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, to Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast. In fact, you can almost hear how Best Coast would have been a So-Cal punk band without Gore’s influence. Gore would later go on to be a major voice in the fight for LGBT rights. She passed away on Monday at the far-too-young age of 68.

zzzanitaNow Anita Darian is far less popular, but I guarantee her voice is just as hardwired into the back of your head as Gore’s is. She was primarily known for her work in operas and musicals, and had a high soprano range that held more strength than any tenor or alto who would match up against her. In 1961, a group of producers over at RCA had the brilliant foresight to bring her in to add backing vocals to The Tokens‘ “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.” According to the story, her original part was supposed to be an octave lower primarily because they didn’t think anybody could go that high and so strong. But then she nailed that high range section and it became a defining part of the song, helping elevate it to number one in 1961 and granting it eternal legendary status. But in terms of complete bad-assness, you have to turn to Mickey and Syliva‘s “Love Is Strange” – one of my favorite tunes of all time. Originally a Bo Diddley riff, the duo added their token flare to it and sent it to #1 on the R&B charts in 1956. The tune was also rerecorded in 1962, and has the historical acclaim of being the first recording that legendary session-drummer Bernard Purdie ever played on. But of course, the tune is nothing without the high-backing vocals which are almost sung in an alien-child like fashion, and are some of the most bad-ass vox ever laid to wax. They were done obviously, by Darian, and when you listen to them now try to think of any pop, rock, or R&B song in the past 60 years that has ever used a similar vocal line. It’s so unique that it has never been replicated. It’s just an absolutely killer nook in the pantheon of great 20th century music, and it will still resonate just as amazingly and creepily in another 60 years as it does today. Anita passed away on February 1 at the age of 87.

Lesley Gore photo courtesy of Biography.com – http://www.biography.com/people/lesley-gore-16606845

Anita Darian photo courtesy of Phtofest via Masterworks Broadway – http://www.masterworksbroadway.com/artist/anita-darian

 

Concert Review and Pics: Dr. Dog @ The Crystal Ballroom, Portland, OR – 2/11/15


All photography by Adam Beardsley King – all rights reserved.
20150211drdog23There came a moment halfway through this gig, as the band had just entered the swamp-tromp of “The Ark”, when the usually stoic Frank McElroy stepped back to look across the stage at fellow guitarist Scott McMicken. The two peered through their now-ubiquitous cheap sunglasses and simultaneously busted out their most natural G.E. Smith smirks towards one another. It was subtle and discreet, yet a very defining moment for this band; Dr. Dog cares enough about their fans that they work really hard at masking the fact that they only play this music for themselves. And before you cast off that observation as a crass assumption of their nature, take in mind that all really great bands only do it for themselves. The moment you start letting your art be defined by the expectations of your admirers is the moment you let it escape from your soul, and beyond all other things Scotty and Toby and the rest of their gang make deep, gut-birthed soul music.

Now, as is the seeming right of any true music geek, I have the tendency to become over-protective of my bands. But after a solid decade of watching the Philly boys evolve, I find myself only becoming more proud of the Dog’s ability to resonate with an ever-expanding swath of humanity. Part of that pride stems from the lack of a radio hit – these crowds are far from those you would find in a post-“Float On” Modest Mouse audience. These are folks who have all shown up because they have had at least one singular moment where at least one Dr. Dog song has completely broken through their exterior shell and echoed out the ring of their inner core. And this is why the start of each and every song the other night drew an ecstatic reaction from different pockets of the room – I had five different people come up to me at different moments to tell me “this” was their “favorite song.” For me it tends to change on every gig, but this night my inner nuggets of annihilation came from the aforementioned “The Ark,” the journey-like feel of “Broken Heart,” and my first live catching of the hugeness which is “Be The Void.” I’m still trying to figure out why they left the latter off the album of the same name, but I suppose Zeppelin left “Houses of The Holy” for Physical Graffiti so who am I to analyze those kinds of decisions.

I’ve said it before, but these guys are what Roger Waters warned about when he asked if you had “traded your heroes for ghosts.” For a cat like me, mid-30s, drowning in East-Coast sarcasm and defined by my visceral relation to sound, these are my heroes. It’s not the bands of yesteryear I admire – it’s these living, breathing, champions of now that I turn to for the objective view of our shared reality. This is my band. And this is your band. But most importantly, this is their band. Accept the open invitation to enjoy the now, because there’s no other band out there that makes it seem so important.

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Please Listen To Morning Phase Before You Begin Adamantly Defending Beck’s Grammy Win


81coqlbpcwl-sl1400-1392919087Listen – I love Beck. I have for years and will for many years to come. I love him so much that he’s one of the only human beings on the planet of which I am able to overlook his Scientology connection. And yes, he has released some albums over the years that were definitely worthy of being “Album of The Year.” 1994’s Mellow Gold is far more deserving than that year’s winner, The Bodyguard Soundtrack – despite it being one of the greatest selling records of all time. 1996’s Odelay blows Jagged Little Pill out of the water. 2000’s Midnight Vultures was obviously a better record than whatever random Steely Dan bullshit took home the trophy that year. And 2002’s Sea Change was definitely worthy of nudging out the O Brother, Where Art Though? Soundtrack. But just because Beck should have won in those years, doesn’t mean he deserves to have won this year – this isn’t a lifetime achievement award they’re giving out – it’s album of the year.

And that’s not to say that any of his competition this year was more deserving of taking home the prize. Frankly, I thought this was a horrendous list of nominees. And just to be tremendously clear about where I’m heading, I in no way support Kanye’s obnoxious tirades nor do I think Beyonce’s record should have won instead. The purpose of this post is to address the folks flooding social media this week that Beck is more deserving to win because he wrote all his own music and played a majority of the instruments on his albums as compared to the army of writers and produces involved with Queen B’s record. Praising something for the process by which it was created rather than by what it actually sounds like, is like saying the one-legged man who came in last place in a foot-race is the most deserving to be the winner because of his disability. And I’m not saying that the process of creation shouldn’t be considered when ranking the value of something, but it also shouldn’t take precedent over the final product.

Sure, some folks really dug Morning Phase. But I’ve also repeatedly heard their praises being followed up by “but I never have listened to Beck before” or “it’s a great Sunday morning album.” Personally, I think it is the most non-essential album of his career, and think you’ll be hard-pressed in a couple years to find anybody who listens to it more frequently than its sonic peer, Sea Change. When Rolling Stone ran their Grammy Experts Opinion article last month, The Black Keys’ Patrick Carney responded to the question of who should win album of the year by saying, “I’m picking Beck. I’ve been a Beck fan since high school. I probably saw the Odelay tour three or four times.” In other words, he picks Beck based on his past reputation and not on the quality of this new album. I’m actually willing to wager that Carney probably has yet to listen to Morning Phase all the way through. Again, it’s not a horrible record – it’s just not all that fantastic.

So all I’m asking is for all the Monday morning armchair music critics out there to defend the album and not the artist. If you love Morning Phase, then by all means tout the merits of its production. But if you listen to it and your reaction is “meh”, then please don’t try to defend its victory by its song-writing credits. If you think you’re out there fighting the good fight for “honest” music creation, just make sure you at least dig the record. Congratulations to Beck, but there’s nothing on this new record that comes relatively close to the masterpieces contained on Sea Change. 

Kanye Wins The Grammys


Kanye_West_graffiti_at_BonnarooI was working late last night and didn’t watch one second of The Grammys. I know, I know – the amount of consoling I’ll need to get over it is just too enormous to even fathom right now. I already posted last week about how undeserving Beck‘s Morning Phase was of even being nominated, let alone winning, so it comes as no surprise to me that he won multiple awards for it. Looking at the winners, the only one that gives me a glimmer of joy is seeing that St. Vincent won “Best Alternative Album.” And I suppose I also can’t resist having a snarky smirk on my face for Tenacious D plowing through fields of sarcasm to win for “Best Metal Performance.” But in reading through all my feeds, emails, and music-site synopsis this morning it’s clear there was only one real winner last night: Kanye West. 

I have a love-hate relationship with Kanye that runs as deep as anybody’s, but it’s clear that he’s actually the only one who has any inkling of knowledge as to what the Grammys are really all about. It’s a show. A performance. Nothing more, nothing less. The awards ceremony has a decades-long history of completely out-of-touch nominations and absurd winners, so lavishing any praise on the folks who actually win a statue has evolved to a level on par with congratulating somebody for winning $1000 on a scratch-off ticket – pretty cool, pretty surprising, but has nothing to do with the actual relative degree of their accomplishments.

So Kanye starts to walk up on stage to make a scene about Beyonce not winning Best Album, and then he rants to E! News about it afterwards. Is that surprising at all? Hell no. But give the man props for ironically being the only person in the place to actually act like a human and express his opinions. And I don’t even care what he said – his opinions are meaningless to me.Yet, I have to praise the man for being aware enough of the absolute mundane event surrounding him and realizing that a couple simple actions by him will put him on all the headlines the next morning. He’s the only thing anybody’s talking about, and he’s the only thing anybody will remember in three weeks time. I’m sure Beck will see a slight album sales bump this morning, but it will pale in comparison to the number of people who are googling to see if Kanye has a new record coming out. Say what you will about the man, but you can’t deny that people love to talk about him, everybody knows his name, and that he is actually deserving of his self-proclamation of being the biggest rock-star on the planet. The dude knows how to sell a mother-fucking sneaker – that’s for sure.

Here’s the Beck performance – it’s not bad until you realize this is what won Best Rock Album of the Year instead of Best Folk Album of the Year. Somebody needs to cram a Parquet Courts album down these people’s throats.

Without Saying A Word, This Kid Will Explain How Excited All Built To Spill Fans Are About The New Record


zzzzbtsDoug Martsch has been hinting at a new Built To Spill record for a couple years now. Nameless songs have been popping up in setlists for a while, and last year’s Treefort Festival in Boise featured a whole set of all new material. So this week’s announcement of Untethered Moon felt less like a surprise, and rather more of a relief to die-hard fans of the band. This six year gap since 2009’s There Is No Enemy is the longest stretch without a new album since the band’s incarnation 23 years ago, and for many of us the release date in April can’t come soon enough.

Anybody who really loves Built To Spill will tell you that the greatest thing about them is how they make you feel like they’re your band. Martsch has always had a way of writing lyrics that dig deep into the interior soul pocket, and often have a way of seemingly presenting your own thoughts in a way that has never occurred to you. I often think of him as the musical equivalent of a great movie’s voice-over. So it’s not rare to see folks at gigs having very personal moments with the band – moments where the periphery vanishes and one allows themselves to be completely washed over by the music.

I stumbled upon the following video randomly the other day, and have no clue where or when it was filmed. It has an upload date of 2006, and from the trees, the scattering of random street-hippies, and the overall whiteness of the observing crowd, I’m going to guess Boulder. The performance is of Doug playing “Hurt A Fly” off the legendary 1997 album, Perfect From Now On. It’s actually a really bad performance – he misses a few chords really badly, and even has a few restart moments. But the reason for the sloppiness is most likely due to him being distracted by the kid completely losing his shit in front of him. This is easily one of the most respectful freak-outs of all time and should serve as a lesson to many of how to really enjoy a concert. The kid’s body is screaming at the top of his lungs, but he is able to maintain his vocal composure and remain completely silent. It’s kind of like finding out you won a new car while sitting in a library. Quite simply, I fucking love this kid and he is the physical embodiment of the way many of us feel at Built To Spill concerts – it’s a total touchdown of the heart moment.

The vid’s a great way to kick off the weekend, and hopefully will inspire you to have more of these fully unleashed moments of your heart more often.

Top 50 Songs of 2014


karen-OI’ve never done a Top 50 songs list before, simply because I always thought it would be too difficult. It turned out to be a rather breezy affair though, and I didn’t really have to do too much bumping to pull out the top songs that really rung the deepest with me this year. This was also the year of some great full-play albums that really don’t function as well as stand-alone songs. Like the Flying Lotus record was #5 on my best albums list, but that’s one that should only be experienced as a whole – same goes for Death Grips and Thom Yorke. The list technically clocks in at 52 songs, but two of those weren’t available on Spotify so I bumped up the next two on the list to make a full mid-century for the playlist. Those two are hyper-linked to versions you can listen to.

1. Parquet Courts – “Instant Disassembly”
2. The War On Drugs – “Red Eyes”
3. J Mascis – “And Then” 
4. Real Estate – “Crime” 
5. Cloud Nothings – “I’m Not Part Of Me” 
6. Karen O – “Body”
7. D’Angelo – “Ain’t That Easy”
8. Parquet Courts – “Uncast Shadow Of A Southern Myth”
9. The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger – “Too Deep”
10. Phish – “Fuego” 
11. Deerhoof – “Black Pitch” 
12. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks – “Planetary Motion”
13. FREEMAN – “Covert Discretion” 
14. Pink Floyd – “Louder Than Words” 
15. Tweedy – “Flowering” 
16. Foxygen – “How Can You Really”
17. tUnE-yArDs – “Look Around” 
18. Swale – “You Are Not The Photograph”
19. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – “Cover Up”
20. Walter Martin & Karen O – “Sing To Me” 
21. Run The Jewels – “Close Your Eyes (And Count To Fuck)”
22. Damien Jurado – “Magic Number”
23. Shellac – “Dude Incredible”
24. Ty Segall – “The Singer”
25. Beck – “Turn Away” 
26. Karen O & Ezra Koenig – “The Moon Song” 
27. Temples – “Shelter Song”
28. Black Lips – “Boys In The Wood”
29. St. Vincent – “Regret”
30. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks – “Cinnamon and Lesbians”
31. The Young – “Cry Of Tin”
32. TV On The Radio – “Quartz”
33. Mac Demarco – “Goodbye Weekend”
34. Sun Kil Moon – “Carissa”
35. Little Dragon – “Klapp Klapp”
36. Diarrhea Planet – “Heat Wave”
37. Thurston Moore – “Speak To The Wild” 
38. Spoon – “Rent I Pay”
39. Jack White – Lazaretto” 
40. Alvvays – “Adult Diversion” 
41. The New Pornographers – Marching Orders” 
42. Sun Kil Moon – “I Watched The Film The Song Remains The Same” 
43. Parquet Courts – “Bodies Made Of”
44. The Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger – “Devil You Know”
45. TV On The Radio – “Lazerray”
46. Cloud Nothings – “Psychic Trauma”
47. Swale – “Everyone Likes To”
48. Tweedy – “Wait For Love”
49. Shellac – “You Came In Me”
50. The Black Keys – “The Weight Of Love”
51. D’Angelo – “Back To The Future (Part II)”
52. Jack White – “Entitlement”