It’s the time of year when music dorks like myself compose needlessly windy, pointedly esoteric and not-just-a-little pretentious lists of their favorite albums of the year. For decades, I dutifully partook in this ritual and -- much like my sharp-opinioned peers in this dubious realm -- usually outfitted my selections with a few barbed choices and indelible omissions just to upset the easily riled.
As it has shaken out, I can’t really do that this year. Frankly speaking, as I’ve alluded in previous posts, 2014 has been nothing short of catastrophic for myself and my family. The misfortunes of 2013 only continued into this year and intensified, punctuated by health issues, death and job loss. Put simply, it’s been Hell. We all get our share of it, I suppose. We’ve just had two years of it in succession.
As a result, the time I might have normally spent investigating new music went largely out the window. Sure, I kept up with my usual stable of favorites (To Be Kind by SWANS was an unsurprising highlight for me, even if I was consumed with other pressing matters at the time), but I felt let down by new releases by relative newcomers I’d had high hopes for like The Horrors and Iceage. Not unlistenable, their new records, but both a long way from crucial.
So, I was getting to the point where I was content to sit this year out in terms of opining. The names of so many new artists floated by my eyes this year, but I can’t really say I’ve consciously heard any of them … not even on the Rolling Stone list (although I remain incredulous they gave the #1 spot to U2. Even an oldster like m’self wouldn’t have done that). I did, unfortunately, hear a lot of the new pop shit -- Taylor Swift et al. -- and all that left me as cold, clammy and contemptuous as ever.
This entire time, however, a friend of mine name Joseph kept pushing this new British band at me called — ugh — Eagulls. On principle, I’d go out of my way never to even bother listening to a band that would saddle themselves with such a ridiculously stupid name. I mean, it’s not even clever…. or funny….or a proper pun. It just sucks. Joseph (who has otherwise respectable taste) assured me I’d enjoy them. To say that I dragged my feet would be an understatement. I mean, really …. “Eagulls"? Fuck that.
Here's a shot of them walking manfully down a New York City street...
Last Friday night, however, Joseph cornered me at the SWANS show at Warsaw in Brooklyn, and pressed a pristine copy of Eagulls’ eponymous debut disk into my hands. I surrendered and took it home, where it sat in my mail bowl for two days.
This evening, however, I cracked it open and gave a listen …. and I’ll be damned if I’m not digging it.
I’ll swallow my curmudgeonly pride and add my voice to the chorus of those championing them as best new artist of the year….or at least from what little I've heard.
Here are Eagulls…..see what you think….
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