A Möbius Striptease...

“Empathy can poison your brain. It’s like elephants. When they mourn their dead. They go nuts over them. They pace around, piss on themselves. You’re going to need a diaper soon you know?”

Best Records of 2011

It’s always a difficult feat to compile a list of the best records of any given year. Last year, I avoided it all together, despite having a very clear Top 5. A lot of people were disappointed by my lack of a list, but the burden and stress it involves kept me distant. I was also dating a crazy person and he hijacked all of my emotions and time. So, I blame that boy for never getting around to compiling a list. So, here we are, 2011 coming to a close. While I took a look through some of the other blogs out there, there seems to be a consensus about the year 2011. Indie rock fell into the background. Ed, from Grizzly Bear even tweeted that it was a weird year for indie rock and I completely agree with him. This year seems like the year of pop and hip-hop. More than any other year, it seemed the radio had hijacked my ears. If it wasn’t NPR I was listening to in my car, it was either Katy Perry or Rihanna that got me through the traffic on the BQE. I can’t think of one record I listened to that distracted me from red brake lights. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little here. Most of what appears on this list were albums that were played during contemplative moments. Those moments in the car, when there was no one else on the road and your thoughts hitched a ride with the crescendos of Explosions in the Sky because you didn’t have to worry about yielding to traffic or avoid Sunday drivers. Those moments spent laying around your apartment in just your briefs because New York summers are brutal and you would rather pay the electric bill for running your Bose SoundDock rather than your air conditioner. At first I thought Bon Iver chose the wrong season to release his sophomore record, but after a few listens I realized this wasn’t a sequel to For Emma, Forever Ago, he has written an entire new novel, with new stories to tell. I dreaded scoring tickets to his Prospect Park show over his United Palace gig because I feared the acoustics of a park. I wanted an enclosed space where the sound and emotion would fold into themselves and create this claustrophobic emotional experience. Little did I know Bon Iver’s new record was about expanding his sound, applying layers and layers to his fundamental guitar and vocals. Hearing the beginning of “Perth” while standing alone in the park with hundreds of strangers, I knew I was in the perfect location. We were on the edge of our seats when Gaga released “Born This Way” to the internet and we all sort of sighed after listening to it. The Madonna references took the blogs by storm. It felt off. It wasn’t the incarnation I was hoping for. “Born This Way” became a running joke on Twitter for weeks. Everyone blaming their mistakes and regrets with the hashtag #bornthisway. Using #bornthisway as an excuse for all their problems. It’s why I never really believed I was born any particular way. A neutral setting if you will. I’m a constructionist; I was born a malleable soul and body and my environment pushed and shoved me into who I am now. Anyway…Gaga goes on to put the word “transgendered” in a pop song that is listened to by millions of people and educates and contextualizes an underrepresented “community” (gosh I hate the word community). Despite how much the song lacks, this reason alone is genius. But something seemed so off about it and the video did little to make it better. but tha thought of my dad shopping at a supermarket and listening to this song, humming the verses and chorus without even realizing he is doing so is enough of a reason for Gaga to make the Top 10 of my list. For the words transgendered, gay and lesbian to infiltrate a pop song so slyly is so smart and so awesome. Ke$ha’s “We R Who We R” tried to rally the same kind of self-acceptance theme, as some kind of anthem for LGBT “communities”(shucks I used that word again!) but it didn’t work. It was just as trashy and catchy as all her other songs. Gaga was able to craft it perfectly, I just didn’t like the song. It wasn’t until Gaga’s entire record was released that “Born This Way” made sense. And after listening to the whole album, I actually started to like “Born This Way” as a single. The record as a whole put all the various singles into context. I cringed when I first heard “The Edge of Glory.” But when I discovered it closed the album, I understood it. And must I remind you of the story behind the song and the piano version she did on Howard Stern? Every non-single off of Born This Way is pitch perfect. From the Marilyn-Manson-like scream on “Bloody Mary” to the lyrics and beat of “Heavy Metal Lover.” I haven’t lost faith in you yet Gaga. Just pick better singles and bathe the radio in your brand of weird, dark and dance. But like any other year, there were bands and artists that didn’t actually release albums in 2011 that I got hooked on. It is rather sad that I cannot honor them in the list below. A friend on Facebook posted lyrics to a Jessica Lea Mayfield song and from reading those lyrics, I knew, I just knew, without even listening to the song that I’d fall hard for her (if it was even a she to fall for). After I did some investigating I realized that I actually like her earlier work more than I like Tell Me. So, it was difficult to find a place for an album I didn’t enjoy as much as her other albums. Then there’s the case for demos, remixes and singles that were released, that were not part of a larger work like an album. So, I’m stuck dancing to Calvin Harris and Elite Gymanstics remixes but no way to place them on this list. Then there is the case of Lana Del Rey. The songstress I love to hate. “Video Games” was released to the world over the summer and it wasn’t until my friend Antwan posted his end of the summer playlist that I actually caught on. She would come on shuffle and with each listen, I fell harder and harder for her. A little investigating proved to me why I stayed so distant. She’s manufactured, signed to Interscope, even though her songs are drowning in indie sounds and her look so hipster-chic it almost seems straight out of a fashion shoot for either an Urban Outfitters catalog or Nylon magazine. A few other songs are released to the internet and I’m hooked. But I feel manipulated and cheated but I still listen to her songs on repeat again and again because there’s something dangerously intoxicating about her: those lips, the lilt in her voice when she sings, the awkward stage presence. But her album doesn’t drop until the end of January so that means her record will drop in 2012 and will not make this year’s list despite me being completely enamored with her. There’s only so much one person can listen to in any given year and I still have not got around to a lot of albums. St. Vincent, Zola Jesus, Kate Bush, Coldplay and the new Field record. Then there are artists I just can’t get into like Real Estate, Metronomy and Beyonce. I still didn’t get around to listening to the new Antlers record or really dove into Feist’s new record either. “Pumped Up Kicks” was a great song and those dudes are total babes, but I still haven’t listened to their album in full. Los Campesinos! had an awesome track “By Your Hand” but I still neglected the album it was released from. The new Rosebuds album was rather lame and so was Thursday’s No Devolución except for that one song where Geoff is counting. I’m completely lost on Patrick Wolf all together as well. Why can’t I listen to any of his new stuff? I need a new external hard drive for 2012. I can’t let this many albums pass me by next year. It’s not fair to my ears, heart and mind. Looking back on 2011, I remembered seeing Explosions in the Sky in Seattle during the Capitol Hill Block Party when the sun was setting. Or when I stood in Nuemo’s watching Yuck play in the sweltering heat. Seeing Bush for the first time ever, even though I’ve been a fan since I was in middle school. They even played on Long Island at the new venue in Huntington. Gavin Rossdale was not depressing and still a stone-cold fox strumming his guitar with his muscular arms. I saw M83 for the third time at Webster Hall and they blew my mind. It will probably be my last time seeing them because their following has become mindless twats. The same goes for Beirut and Iron & Wine who I saw both play at the awful Terminal 5. I rocked out to Saves The Day and The Get Up Kids with old and new friends at the Crazy Donkey on Long Island. I was being watched on television while I watched The Naked & Famous play. I then saw them the next day at Webster Hall. I went to the record release party for An Horse at Knitting Factory and swooned over them. Low played a sold-out Bowery Ballroom and my heart skipped every other beat during their entire set. Mount Eerie had me by my throat on Kent Avenue one night in October. So, here it goes. My Best Records of 2011. I’ve consulted my iTunes, iPod and Last.fm accounts. I viewed how many times I played a certain album or certain track. I thought back to 2011, reflectively and remembered the moments I first heard a particular song. All those shows I went to, all those walks through Manhattan and rides on the subway. Those moments in the car with no one there dancing along to Calvin Harris’s “We Found Love” and rediscovering old gems like Hayden and K’s Choice on random mixes I made years ago for my best friend. Those drunken nights spent at Metro or in bars in Hell’s Kitchen. The desire to dance to songs off the radio. I remember the first time I heard “We Found Love” was at Splash. Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” will always remind me of Gay Pride at Duplex. I remember driving over the Williamsburg Bridge into Manhattan drinking Four Loko while listening to Adele’s “Someone Like You” last winter with the ex-boyfriend. We belt out every word while smoking out the windows of my car. It was before the song became a Hallmark greeting you hear all of the time. And it was before I realized that the guy from Semisonic actually wrote the song. So here’s my list of best albums of the year. Please remember that this list is subject to change at any given moment. The numbers beside the albums are just numbers and don’t really reflect their merit. All of the albums listed below are awesome in their own way. Enjoy.

Best Records of 2011

30. Twin Sister- In Heaven

29. Iron and Wine- Kiss Each Other Clean

28. Youth Lagoon- The Year of Hibernation

27. Psychic Powers- Infinity

26. Oh Land- Oh Land

25. Jessica Lea Mayfield- Tell Me

24. Nicolas Jaar- Space Is Only Noise

23. Florence The Machine- Ceremonials

22. Austra- Feel It Break

21. Martin John Henry- The Other Half of Everything

20. Radiohead- The King of Limbs

19. PJ Harvey- Let England Shake

18. Tennis- Cape Dory

17. Class Actress- Rapprocher

16. Drake- Take Care

15. Widowspeak- Widowspeak

14. Elite Gymnastics- Ruin

13. Thao and Mirah- Thao and Mirah

12. Wild Flag- Wild Flag

11. Adele- 21

10. Lady Gaga- Born This Way

09. An Horse- Walls

08. Beirut- The Rip Tide

07. Explosions in the Sky- Take Care, Take Care, Take Care

06. The Weeknd- House of Balloons

05. M83- Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming

04. Ellie Goulding- Lights

03. Low- C’mon

02. Yuck- Yuck

01. Bon Iver- Bon Iver

If you’re into it, I compiled a list of tracks on Spotify from my top 20 albums. http://open.spotify.com/user/octoberxswimmer/playlist/3LeADuGlpUvpndDLlZk7yP

(Source: octoberxswimmer.livejournal.com)

Falling…

Phew. I’m fatigued. It’s six in the morning and I’m on my last break before punching out at work. Five hours of sleep is not enough to pull even zombies through a graveyard shift. My eyes burn and Bon Iver is smoothing out the highs and lows I have been feeling these past few days. My hands feel dry as if they are going to crack open and bleed all over my laptop. But I know it’s all in my mind. The fact that I don’t have hand lotion in my bag is making me feel as if my hands will actually bleed. It’s a need for comfort. Lotion, pills, caffeine, iPod, hooded sweatshirt. These are all things that seemingly protect me from the wold; a world of randomness, a world filled with potential pain and grief. After watching Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion I can’t stop thinking about how often I touch my face. I can’t stop thinking about how many germs I come in contact on a daily basis. It’s like that Woody Allen movie with Larry David. I can’t wash my hands without thinking of singing “Happy Birthday” a few times. Or that time Schmitz told me how to properly use hair gel (which he learned from Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. Or when Gillian told me to never use my finger to clean off my toothbrush after a brushing because you will wear the bristles. If you tell me something about my daily routine it usually sticks with me, and I’ll think about you every time I’m looking in the mirror styling my hair or brushing my teeth. 

It’s been ten years since 9/11. How crazy is that? I think the media has this covered so I won’t go into great sappy details about how I feel about this. A decade. A fucking decade. It seems so long. It also means it’s been ten years since my nervous breakdown. Little did I know that I would never feel like the same person again. While everyone was sitting around glued to their televisions watching buildings crumble and people leaping out of windows, I was in an emergency room thinking I was either dying or going insane. Just days before 9/11, I had my first panic attack while sitting at my aunt’s dinner table in Lindenhurst. Of course I didn’t realize it was a panic attack. I thought I was going insane. I was feeling a little off while watching The Family Man in my aunt’s living room and to this day I can’t watch that Nicholas Cage movie. I also can’t listen to Alicia Key’s “Fallin” without a rush of panic surging through my body. I stifled all of these inner mental pangs from everyone for days and even longer nights. As the days and nights progressed they increased in intensity and frequency. And once I heard about the terrorist attacks on the radio while at work that morning, I rushed home and cried to my best friend and told her everything. I told her she needed to take me to the hospital. Not only was my reality crumbling but the entire world’s reality was crumbling too. There was no foundation anymore. Nothing was stable, static, or safe. I accepted my fate, even if it meant padded walls in a psychiatric ward. My paranoia was worse than the lives lost on 9/11 at that moment. I couldn’t even relate to the devastation because I was devastated myself. So selfish. So delusional. I never was admitted into a psychiatric hospital. I was sent home with a bottle of pills with all my friends and family waiting in the emergency room for me. I felt loved. I felt embarrassed. I felt ashamed. For weeks, I struggled with the panic until I could get a psychiatrist appointment, a psychologist appointment too. On and off meds for the rest of my life. I never felt the same since. Something was slain within me. A darkness brooding in the corner of my mind. Lurking, creeping out every so often, ready to corrupt a good mood, a good day, a decent life.

Subconsciously I must have known it was my ten year anniversary of falling apart. Last weekend, while I was out on Fire Island celebrating the end of summer, living life, drinking beers, Red Bull and vodkas and hanging out with friends, a rush of panic fell over me at the end of the night. I had to sit down with my head in my lap. And all the “Are you okays?” were genuine and sincere, but they were making me feel worse. I slept in my old bedroom that night, alone in my parent’s house because the family was on vacation. That wasn’t good for me. Thoughts lingered in dark places and I imagined sharp knives and empty pill bottles. I desired an end. I felt meaninglessness. An existential void. These thoughts come and go, but this time it felt authentic. It felt real….tangible. And it terrified me.

Shake it off. Shake it off. Shrug it off…


*picture taken in Soho during Fashion Night Out.

<a href=https://www.yousendit.com/download/bHlCeVdvYXl0TWtLSkE9PQ>M83- Intro (ft. Zola Jesus)</a>