Sunday, 8 February 2009

THE BLUE IN THE AIR 2008 ALBUMS: NUMBERS 79-71



79. CYNDI LAUPER: Bring Ya To The Brink

The woman looks out the window, apparently domestic but really her mind is elsewhere, thinking of that mp3 she heard from the back of the bus, the song on the radio at the corner store. Her soul is in the beats; the rhythms are in the changeable winds. She decides to go out tonight, once the soft sun has set, just beyond the golden trees.

78. COLBIE CALLIAT: Coco

Gold sand; blue salt air and white bubbles. Gentle alchemies on the edge of a continent. California gives and gives with an easy hand, but not without its nagging questions – is it good always? Easy, forever? Efforts pay off, but what lasts?

77. LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM: Gift Of Screws

A flurry of infinite guitars stretches and shakes like its own series of faults underground; or like fireworks over Macarthur Park . Peace in the night, the long-held/kept secrets are so obvious now. All there is IS now; efforts do last, but oh, OH, the pressures…

76. BRIAN WILSON: That Lucky Old Sun

The orange peel releases oils and juice as it comes off. Invigorating, soothing, the very smell of heaven itself. One who never thought he could truly sense this joy, so simple and old, has an orange juice before he exercises, jogging through his city, his pal observing the warmth, the optimism, the SUNSHINE that says OH YES.

75. THE BICYCLES: Oh No It’s Love

You fall in love and it’s good but sometimes you have the smallest problems with the biggest things. Toronto opens its arms and says “I understand.” Ask the right questions and the answers are obvious. Love is new, love was always there.

74. THE TING-TINGS: We Started Nothing

As long as you do it with love. Like The Bicycles, they were truly INDEPENDENT pop – never, thank the Lord, “indie” – not really a beat group (despite “the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums”) but they beat most British groups in 2008 by giving a damn about not giving a damn. Aloud.

73. BRYN CHRISTOPHER: My World

It’s only worth turning the page back if you intend to read – or even write – the pages not yet written. Thus we know he DOES have something to live for and can answer his androgynous muezzin wail. Too many tried to pretend that 2008 could be turned into 1968; Bryn, though, was careful not to forget 1981.

72. ELIZABETH SHEPHERD: Parkdale

Queen St West shimmers; in the Gladstone Hotel a woman plays and sings. The sweating city is cooled by her voice. A tender hand in a rough part of town, a profound love of the residents in their dire circumstances. The flower growing out of the sidewalk.

71. NIKKA COSTA: Pebble To A Pearl

Echoing Bryn, Nikka knows that you can bring the past into the present, just as you can take that durable grit and indeed make something of worth, warm as your skin and inspiring. The Hoxton crew want the jewels without the search; Nikka has the real pleasure of having her own veins, her own sea.

No comments: