Coming Attractions

Here's a brief preview of what's to come in the next week;

As far as books go, I'm almost done with Neil Gaiman's American Gods, so expect a review on that within a day or two. From Dawn to Decadence, the tome I've been working through since last weekend, is about to hit the halfway mark. Don't expect a review of this 800-page, dense-as-molasses read for another week or so, but know I'll be recommending it very, very highly. After that, I'll be reading Absolute Sandman: Volume 4 and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, or possibly the recently published An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England, which I've never heard of, but looks pretty funny.

Albums are going to pick up again, with releases from Kasabian, Sunsest Rubdown, Wilco (The Band), and Sunn O))). I could review the new Sonic Youth album, but those who know me know it would be an exercise in futility. Not because it's bad, but because I never have anything exceptional to say about them, even when I know they're on top form. I'll also pull out a review of the new(ish) Sparklehorse/Danger Mouse album, Dark Night of the Soul, which I'll tell you now is a refreshing listen well worth your time.

I'll be seeing you later in the week!

Coraline

Coraline
(2002)
Written by Neil Gaiman

I will admit that my familiarity with the horror genres of any given medium, be that books, movies, or comics, could only be charitably described as "passing." I'm not what you'd call a frequent patron. But I do enjoy Neil Gaiman, possibly even love, and so I finally got around to reading Coraline. I didn't avoid it because I thought it would be scary- keep in mind that, up until recently, I rarely cracked more than five books in a year, including assigned readings-, but I will say if I'd read this when I was Coraline's age, it would have terrified me.

Even now, at twenty, it's creepy. There are no cheap scares here. We never find out what Coraline's other mother, the mother through the door, the one with the button eyes (how effective and creepy is that minor detail), really is, we just know it's scary. We never really find out what's going on through the opposite side of the door, but we know we never want to go there. Fear of the unknown is always more powerful, and, while everyone knows that, everyone doesn't have the ability to use that knowledge. That, or, based on the evidence provided by movies such as Jeepers Creepers, everyone won't put in the effort.

To point, this is a magical book. It started a bit slow, which is odd, since it was thrown into the meat of the story within the first twenty pages. One of the advantages of Young Adult fiction is it doesn't waste time. But, still, it was slow. I think Gaiman did that on purpose, though, to get us empathising with Coraline's dull existance. It's what makes the button-eyed freaks on the opposite side of that door so appealing at first; they're colourful, they have circuses and rats, etc. But everyone has a downside, and other mom just happens to have a fondness for, well, being singularly evil. I won't go into more detail, but this is a treasure of a book, and one I can't wait to start terrifying my children with.

You know, as soon as I have some.

Grade: A

Please Don't Stop the Mu- Please Don't Stop the Mu-

We've entered what I'd managed to avoid all year long, a musical dead zone. There have been no releases in the last few weeks, nor in the two or three weeks ahead, that hold my interest. At some point, when I can get my hands on a hard copy, I'll review the new Grizzly Bear album, but that will be so aurally delicate an affair that I dare not attempt to pass judgment until I've got a high fidelity version. Just making sure everyone knows that Thought's Dowinion hasn't lost focus as, primarily, a music blog. There's just not a lot going on right now.

What a Good Fuckin' Movie

In Bruges
(2008)
Written and Directed by Martin McDonagh

What an unexpected movie. In essence, Colin Farrel and Mad-Eye Moody play two hitmen, sent to Bruges by their boss (the hilarious Ralph Fiennes), for reasons I won't divulge here. It was marketed as a comedy, but it's not a comedy in the typical modern sense. The humour is found in the events that happen. Some of the "jokes" take the entire movie to play out. Most of the humour is inherent in how these characters talk. I'd always suspected "fuck" to be a flexible word, but I had no idea as to the dizzying heights it could truly reach.

This movie will not be for everyone, if only for the language, and a few moments of extreme-ish violence towards the end. But to focus on those things is to miss the point. This is as magnificently written movie as you'll see. McDonagh is a playwrite, and it shows. Like the best plays, nothing here happens that isn't addressed later. It not only holds up on subsequent viewings, it demands them, and it certainly rewards them. The third time I watched In Bruges, I decided to try and spot something that didn't get addressed in one way or another, and I ended up stumped. The characters are seemless, their relationships are explained in perfect, subtle ways, the events all relate, and the humour, though sparse, is very real. A great movie.

Grade: A

I Take It to be a Good Omen...

Good Omens
Written by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

What do I take to be a good omen? This is the fiftieth post of the Thought's Dowinion relaunch! We made it everyone, and they never thought we would. Bastards, all of them. To be honest, there isn't any other book I'd rather be reviewing for this most auspicious of occasions than Good Omens. Finishing this is my own little victory over four years of efforts, false starts, and distractions. Mostly distractions. And false starts. Not so much with the efforts, to be honest. At least I'm not a liar.

As one would expect from Pratchett, this is a very, very funny book. The understanding I've gained is that Gaiman and Pratchett did the plotting over the phone on an almost daily basis, and, while Gaiman was primarily busy working on Sandman, Pratchett did most of the actual writing. I've never read any of his other novels, but they are now dutifily ready for the To Read list. It's funny, and I mean, it's really funny. I laughed frequently. It's a dry, English humour, no doubt, but it really is hysterical at times. The footnotes, my favourite literary device (I use them in papers all the time, when I know it wouldn't actually be appropriate to share what I want to share), had me in stitches, as they say. But humour alone is not enough.

What this does SO well, and moves it into the major leagues, is it tells a real and interesting story. Though it's almost impossible to imagine Good Omens without the jokes, as they are constant, it would be a great fantasy novel even without the wit. The story is that good, and that's what's missing from just about any lackluster comedy. There's no awkward difference when a section shifts from one writer to another; anyone familiar with his work can tell Gaiman was more involved with the plot, while Pratchett took care of editing everything down together. As far as fantasy/humour novels are concerned, this is in a league of its own. As far as fantasy novels go, it's still damn good.

Grade: A

Me Talk Pretty One Day

Me Talk Pretty One Day
(2000)
Written by David Sedaris

Joe and I were discussing, it's very unusual for a book to break into the national conscious. You could rattle off a number of examples, from Harry Potter to The Ultimate Weight Solution, but consider how many books are published in a given week (Don't look up the number, just imagine a super-big number), and the odds are low. Sedaris has been in the mass-conscious for the better part of a decade now, and it really started with Naked, but, well, I haven't read that yet, so we'll instead take a look at the follow up, Me Talk Pretty One Day.

It opens simply enough, with an amusing if never dehabilitating essay about Sedaris' struggle to beat a lisp in his younger years. Sedaris has an occasionally biting, very quick sense of humour. He's not afraid to play the obvious jokes, but he'll usually sprinkle in a nearly-undetectable morsel to balance it out. There's great fun to be had even with the concepts, such as the essay advising you to stay away from IQ tests, as they only make you feel stupid retroactively. The first two essays of this were good, and then it dragged a little. It picked up again about a quarter in, possibly a third, and from there on out it is hilarity. A wonderful, if slightly un-even read, you won't regret jumping on the bandwagon, if you haven't already.

Grade: B+

And Now for Something Completely Different

White House Ghosts
(2008)
Written by Robert Schlesinger

While my interest in politics is mild at best, my interest in politically-themed entertainment is intense. The West Wing, Frost/Nixon, Charlie Wilson's War... the list goes on. I love fictional politics, and I love the stories around real politics. Combine with that my love for the English language, and it's fairly natural that I would pick up White House Ghosts, a history of presidential speechwriters, from FDR to GWB.

Its appeal is probably limited, but if you find it interesting, Schlesinger has done a great job. The research was undoubtedly exhaustive, with interviews conducted for over two years prior to release. History tends to be boring when it is delivered without a sense of story. There has to be some element of narrative to keep the audience engaged, lest it become a laundry list of dates and facts. What Schlesinger does so well, is he presents the history of the speechwriters while imbuing it with a story, one that keeps you interested without seeming forced. He clearly hasn't had to wrestle the facts into a story, they fit there well on their own, but you begin to see the ways administrations handled and mishandled their speechwriting staffs, how one presidency learned the lessons of the previous one, or discarded them altogether. It's a fascinating read, and by the end of this book, you will be amazed presidents ever manage to give speeches at all. I don't believe a book on this subject could have been written any better, or any deeper, without becoming droll.

Grade: A-

Wednesday Classics, Vol. 5: Pixar

With the recent release of Up, Pixar Animation Studios have reached their tenth movie, and I wanted to take the occasion to take a look back at the amazing track record John Lasseter's merry band have left behind them. There are ten reviews to write, so I'll forgo the lengthy introductory essay and get right to it.

Toy Story
(1995)
The template for every Pixar film was already firmly in place with the release of their first movie, Toy Story. It featured a score provided by Randy Newman (he would score Toy Story, A Bug's Life, Toy Story 2, Monsters, Inc., and Cars), state-of-the-art computer graphics, and a water-tight story, all of which have become Pixar trademarks. But what really makes it Pixar is the way the story is driven by the characters. Nothing in a Pixar movie happens just to have something happen; it all spins out of the characters and their motives, their relationships. By modern standards, it looks downright archaic, but Pixar's first film is still one of their best.
Grade: A

A Bug's Life
(1998)
An inconvenient hiccup of timing left A Bug's Life marked, in some circles, as a less intellectual, younger sibling to Dreamworks' Antz, released in the same season. That may be true, but they weren't aiming for the same audience. Antz was aiming for the adults, while A Bug's Life was for everyone. Toy Story suggested that Pixar had a way with slapstick, and they honed that sensibility here. Toy Story had a sophisticated edge to some of its jokes, and Pixar ran with the balance of humour for young and old here. The story and characters are strong as ever, and, while it may not measure up to most of the Pixar output, A Bug's Life is still a stellar achievement.
Grade: A-

Toy Story 2
(1999)
Toy Story 2 is a masterclass in writing a sequel. The continuity of the first film is preserved; we aren't given some half-baked excuse for a new adventure, it's logically built off of what's come before. The humour is still intact, and even developed. All the familiar characters from before have returned, and the new characters introduced neither outshine nor pale in comparison to the old guard; they feel as though they fit all along. We learn more about the histories of the characters; Buzz and Woody have their origins filled out in authentic, unforced ways. It's perfect, really.
Grade: A+

Monsters, Inc.
(2001)
I'm not sure how it works, exactly, but Pixar make their films in such a way that I am able to enjoy them simultaneously on both an artistic and a technical level. Yes, the story of Monsters, Inc. is clever and original. Yes, the characters are, as ever, strong. Yes, the sense of humour is there. But, my God, would you LOOK at that fur! Honestly. It was worth the cost of admission simply for the fur. It is not, objectively speaking, one of the stronger Pixar films, but it has a lot to live up to.
Grade: B

Finding Nemo
(2003)
Here we have what is widely considered the crown jewel of the Pixar empire. Finding Nemo actually is just as good as you've heard. It may even be better. The story, again, is water-tight (no pun intended), and the characters are wonderful. It speaks volumes for this movie that Ellen Degeneres was able to relaunch her career off the back of a voiceover role. It looks good, it's as colourful a movie as you'll ever see, and the relationships between the characters this time around are flawless. You can see Marlin growing fonder and fonder of Dory as the film progresses. In the Pixar canon, Toy Story 2 is the (relatively) unsung masterpiece, but Finding Nemo, thus far, is the studio's magnum opus.
Grade: A+

The Incredibles
(2004)
Brad Bird is responsible for this, and it shows. Bird has been around in animation for a long time, but he made his name with The Iron Giant, a masterpiece of animation that remains disconcertingly unfamiliar to the greater public. The Incredibles was written to be hand animated, but John Lasseter asked if Bird wanted to make it with Pixar. He said yes. A dramatic departure for the studio in tone and content, The Incredibles is one of their best films. It's more serious than the other Pixar movies. It has more to say about society; says Mr. Incredible, "They keep coming up with new ways to celebrate mediocrity!" The characters are defined, but subtle, and realistic. The motives are more complex than in any prior Pixar film, and, as a result, it is the most mature Pixar film, in every way. Not every animation studio would take a chance on a film like this.
Grade: A

Cars
(2006)
Every family has one, and most studios have several. The biggest "blemish" on Pixar's record is Cars, a film most animation studios would kill to make. It's not a surprise, though, and I'm disappointed Pixar didn't see it coming. Where Pixar has differed from every other studio is in, yes, I know, I keep saying, its characters, and that is the weakest link in Cars. The characters are enjoyable, and Tow Mater is the only thing Larry the Cable Guy should ever do, but they rely too heavily on stereotypes. The Volkswagon van is a stoner. The jeep is militaristic. Haha. Hoho. Now, I'm putting it down in relative light; it's a funny movie, it's never less than entertaining, and, as ever, it is well made. The stereotypes aren't so bad for a children's animated movie, but, by Pixar standards, it's for shame. You may ask yourself why there's a sequel in the works for their weakest film, and while I like to think it's because they feel like they could do better, it's hard to ignore the $5 billion in merchandise sales this film generated. Cars was a disappointment, but if the sequel isn't up to snuff, that will be the first blatant attempt at consumerism on Pixar's part, and that will truly break my heart.
Grade: B-

Ratatouille
(2007)
It's gotten to the point, with Pixar, where I hold my breath each time I hear about their next film. I keep waiting for The One, the irrifutably bad movie that will make them mortals, like any other studio. Before Brad Bird swooped in, at the urging of John Lasseter, Ratatouille was almost that film. During pre-production the previous director was removed, as the movie was not living up to the standards of Pixar. Bird was brought in, performed a major overhaul, and created an absolute gem of a film. It is the most visually sumptuous of all the Pixar movies, and marks a point of departure for the studio. The Incredibles aside, The Old Testament phase of Pixar was buddy comedies, with minor variations here and there. Ratatouille begins the New Testament, where Pixar started taking more chances with its stories. Given the results so far, I encourage the behaviour.
Grade: A

WALL-E
(2008)
Now the studio has balls. From Andrew Stanton, the director of Finding Nemo, we have the most unusual Pixar film. Consider a children's movie where the first half hour is practically silent. Consider an adult movie where that happens, even. WALL-E features two protagonists incapable of speaking much more than their names, but it never stops us from connecting. A powerhouse of animation, WALL-E's emotions are conveyed entirely through body language and "eye" movement. Again, he's got character. The story is involving and dramatic, and distinctly funny. If the environmental overtones are a bit too prominent, they don't distract from the story, and Pixar prove that risk-taking still makes for great movies.
Grade: A

Up
(2009)
Outside of the amazing rendering behind those balloons (the colours!), the trailer for Up had me less than excited. I was ready for this to be The One. When I saw it in theaters, the opening ten minutes put my fears to rest, and made me realise just how wrong I was. Those first ten minutes encompass everything that makes Pixar great; for one, there is some sublime slapstick comedy. For another, the childhood relationship between Carl Frederickson and his future wife is established quickly, effectively, and endearingly. There are no words spoken as we watch them live life together, nor as we watch her grow ill, and, ultimately, die. The first ten minutes of Up were more emotionally touching than anything I've seen in the last two or three years. The rest of the movie has all the trappings of a wonderful, New Testament Pixar movie; a slightly askew story, wonderful characters, and ample humour.
Grade: A

So, there you have it. The first ten Pixar films. All of them are classics of the medium, most of them are classic films regardless. The next Pixar venture is Toy Story 3. I'm nervous, as is my habit, that it will be The One. But then I saw the teaser trailer, which is nothing more than Woody, Buzz and the crew fashioning a logo for the movie; hearing Tom Hanks and Tim Allen voicing their roles again actually made me feel good. It was nice to hear the characters again, and I can't wait to see how they fair this time around. That's what Pixar does so well. In their best films, they create characters who become parts of your life, who feel more real in some ways than any real-life character ever could. Thanks to Pixar, animation isn't a genre anymore, it has risen to the level of Medium, through which any type of story can be told.

Art Brut Vs. Satan

Art Brut Vs. Satan
(2009)
Art Brut

I can't remember the last time an album made me laugh. I can think of some recent albums that have elicited wry chuckles, but no genuine laughter. Certainly not of an uncontrolled sort. The first time I listened to this album, I was at work, and I burst out in laughter during the song "DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshake," for reasons I won't reveal here. But it's wonderful. The whole album is clever. The lyrics are funny, but not in a detached way. In some ways, my appreciation for the emotions of the situations described are increased be Eddie Argos' refined sense of humour. The album ends with a song called "Mysterious Bruises," describing a night out that started with one Xanax, two Aspirin, and a drink that made him feel invincible. From an aural perspective, it's all post-punk-influenced angular guitars and upward tempos, with Argos using the same delivery throughout, a sort of shout. But it works. Musically, Art Brut are a one trick pony, but, my God, what a trick.

Grade: A-

Actor
(2009)
St. Vincent

What an interesting year for women in pop this has been. I'm the first to admit my collection has an appalling under-representation of the fairer sex in its contents, but it thrills me that, so far, three of this year's strongest albums have all been the work of women. First, Lily Allen released the best strictly-pop album of the year with It's Not Me, It's You, which is still wonderful. Then, Yeah Yeah Yeahs released It's Blitz! Now, we have Actor, an album from an artist I have never heard of, St. Vincent. The first time I listened to this album, the musicality of it all escaped me, for reasons I don't know. The immediacy of the melody on opener "The Strangers" is so striking and wonderful that I can't understand how I missed it the first time through. It opens beautifully, with a strong melody and pretty underpinnings, only to have the whole thing ripped away to make room for a heavily distorted guitar. This is a pattern that the album will follow, with moments of beauty torn apart by moments of controlled chaos.

It takes a listen, apparently, but it's addicting. I listened to this album four times in a row the second time I listened to it, and it demanded more. No album has done that since The Good, The Bad, and the Queen came out three years ago, which, from me, is high praise. Actor is unlike anything I've ever listened to, at once beautiful while still challenging, and still operating in the broader umbrella of pop. Those who throw away the Pop umbrella lose my attention. Those who learn how to operate in their own corner of it tend to gain my greatest affections. St. Vincent is way out there on the fringe, but she knows exactly how to stay under cover. This may end up being the year's best album.

Grade: A

Sorry, Mr. Swift...

The Atlantic Ocean
(2009)
Richard Swift

Back in 2007, I read a lot about Richard Swift. He'd just released Dressed Up for the Letdown, a great little record. It was inventive, catchy, original, and followed the well-observed rules of song craft, and I mean the Tin Pan Alley and Brill Building kind, not this new-fangled Rock n' Roll the kids have been listening to. He flirted with mainstream success. He may have even touched it, but I don't think so... I seem to be the only person I've encountered since 2007 who's appreciated the perfection of "Kisses for the Misses," and that's a damn shame.

At any rate, he retreated from the almost limelight, released an odd album of instrumentals last year, and now returns with his newest effort proper, The Atlantic Ocean. Obscurity, it would seem, works for some people, particularly when it's the willful sort. Not that he wouldn't have been okay with fame, but you can hear the creative freedoms his anonymity brings him. This album builds on the forms of Dressed Up for the Letdown, but adds, well, funny noises. The songs are frosted with synth sounds, and it's spectacular. They would not have happened if Richard Swift were becoming a household name, no chance. And they are wondrous things. The opening moments of the title track are my favourite audiophilic indulgence for the year, and the entire album follows suit. There are songs that risk becoming irritating, but something about the way this most talented of individuals crafts songs keeps that from happening. I still don't understand why he isn't famous, but I'm grateful for it, and I hope that doesn't change any time soon.

Clearly a master craftsman who has learnt well the structures and works of Harry Nilsson and Macca, the only downside here is that most of it does not stay firmly in your head, fading from memory almost as quickly as it does from the ears. There is an unquestionably great, properly great album somewhere in this man, and I think it's going to come soon. In the meantime, I'll settle for this.

Grade:B+

Secret, Profane & Sugarcane
(2009)
Elvis Costello

I enjoy Elvis Costello, probably more than most, and probably more than I should. His musical wanderlust is something I aspire to, and hope to duplicate in my own time. This is his blue grass album, essentially. He's teamed up with T Bone Burnett for the first time since 1989's Spike, which was certainly a different affair than this. That was all about odd noises and pop production. This album won't get played on any but the most dedicated Roots Music stations. It feels as authentic as it sounds, thanks mostly to Burnett's production, and his black book. Emmy Lou Harris is one of a number of guests who make great appearances. Costello's voice continues to age well, which is always a plus. It's barely changed from the early days, but it's gained a lower register and a greater emotional resonance, both of which come in handy throughout this event. While it proves an absorbing enough listen if you set out to do nothing else while it's on, it never grabs your attention if you don't volunteer it. Neither a career high nor a career low, it works as a companion piece to last year's Momofuku: competent entries into an exemplary catalogue that reinforce the spine without really adding any muscle.

Grade: C+

Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire

Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire
(2009)
Eels

There is a conceit to Eels, and anyone who's listened to an album of their music will know what it is; Mark Everett only writes one song. If you stretch it, and I mean really stretch it, you could say he writes three. But one is all he needs. It can make an Eels marathon hard to stomach, and on occasion it makes an entire album hard to stomach, but it is a damn fine song, and at times it is uncommonly affecting. There's a reason an Eels song has appeared in each Shrek movie; they are emotive, affecting, and singer Everett has one of those voices, the ones with almost no technical range, but an emotional one you can't deny.

It's been four years since opus Blinking Lights and Other Revelations, and that was an album which had been in the works for something like a decade. Hombre Lobo is a lesser album in ambition, scope, size (Blinking Lights was a very full double-album), and execution, but that's not surprising. I don't think Everett's going to try to do better, only (relatively) different. Blinking Lights was a delicate album at times. This one isn't. It's more Eels taking a stab at garage rock, with some gentler numbers thrown in. While the whole album isn't stuffed with brilliance, I want to turn your attention to one song. "That Look You Gave That Guy" is as good as its title promises, and it illustrates all the strengths Eels have at their disposal.

It opens with a simple guitar progression, soothing without being utterly predictable. Everett's voice sounds, "I never thought that I could be so bold, to even say these thoughts aloud. I see you with your man, your eyes just shown, while he stands tall and walks proud. That look you gave you that guy, I wanna see, looking right at me." The lyrics are simple, and cut right to the heart of the song, the heart of the matter, the heart of Everett. If we've heard lyrics like, "I'm nothing like I'd like to be, I'm nothing much, I know it's true" from him before, and we have, they're still staggeringly effective. An Eels best of would be the same song 12 times, with the same mid-level tempo, and that same plaintative vocal, but it would be a wonderful, wonderful thing.

Grade: B

Where Have I Been?!?

I apologise, I did not realise how long it has been since I wrote something. I had a non-stop work schedule followed by a friend coming into town, so I haven't had a lot of energy to work the blog with. I may not have much posted in the next week, either, but, stay tuned, next Wednesday I'm going to do a feature on all the Pixar movies, and I'll have a number of movies, albums, and television shows to review for you. There's been some great stuff come out recently, and we'll agree to think of the two week gap as a vacation.

The Greats, Volume 2: Spoon

Based in Austin, Texas, Spoon are the ultimate Indie band. They've managed to break into the Top 10 on the Billboard Album Chart without feeling mainstream. Their music provided the soundtrack for Stranger Than Fiction, and brought them notoriety, but, again, they still feel like they belong to the audience. It's an impressive balance they strike, and it's in large part thanks to lead singer, guitarist, and song writer Britt Daniels. Spoon, make no mistake, is his band, and always has been.

First of all, a lot of their sound is owed to his voice, which I once heard described as a less-refined Billy Joel, and I'd be hard-pressed to improve on that. Just a touch rough around the edges at times, he brings emotion and urgency to the words and melodies, and is the heart and soul of their aesthetic. That, and his guitar, which is always just enough. His guitar lines are lean, effective, and angular. Perfect is another word.

Spoon's leader is Daniels, but no leader is without his lieutenant, and Britt has drummer Jim Eno (I always get his name scrambled in my head with Brian Eno and John Brion). The only other constant member of Spoon, he has a minimalist style that never draws attention to itself, but always reinforces the song. That's the part I like most about this band; everyone is in it for the song, not for themselves. Those are always the best ones.

A Series of Sneaks
(1998)
They came out of the gates with a simplicity and ferocity they'd never match, but, then, they haven't tried to repeat the post-punk, XTC-meets-Pixies template laid down here. As wrestless as any modern band, albeit in more subtle ways than, say, Radiohead or Wilco, they used their debut as a launching pad. But don't take that to mean it's lackluster. Spiky, and a grower, but so is their catalogue.
Grade: B+

Girls Can Tell
(2001)
They went from spiky to smooth, incorporating a sort of generalised 80's indie-rock influence. To try to dissect it would take too long, but, rest assured, it's good. While GCT contains the only outright bad song they've commited to tape ("10:20 AM"), it also comes with"Everything Hits at Once," which alerts us to Britt's occasional gifts as a lyricist: "Don't say a word, the last one's still stinging," the album begins.
Grade: B+

Kill the Moonlight
(2002)
Here, Britt Daniels figured out what he wanted to establish as an aesthetic; write the song, and strip it of everything. Build around it a minimalist city that's still hooky, catchy, and can create something as essential as "The Way We Get By." Use keyboards where appropriate (re: everywhere), and put away the guitar from time to time. Is it an improvement? Maybe. But the best is yet to come anyway.
Grade: B+

Gimme Fiction
(2005)
They took that sparse thing and took it in its natural direction, towards the darkness. Sparse settings almost never want to be happy, and while "Sister Jack" and "I Summon You" are their finest pure-play pop songs, "The Beast and Dragon, Adored" is a heavy, heavy monster when they play it live. This one has to grow more than any of the others, but it's well worth it.
Grade: A-

Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
(2007)
"Don't Make Me a Target" is surprisingly forward with its subject, but, with its raggedly brilliant chorus, Britt feels like he might, just might, be loosening up. "The Ghost of You Lingers" takes care of the experimentation, while everything after that does what they do best, only better. If the words meant more, it would be perfect. They get better with every album, and if this is the peak, they built one hell of a mountain.
Grade: A