Anyway, that’s at least 10 good albums for 2008. As usual, though, the music press tried to convince gullible readers that there were plenty more out there. The misinformation campaign covered the typical darlings of indie finds, established acts and aging favorites. Here are the year’s worst—although, in their defense, none of these albums were more inept than the positive reviews they garnered:
Fleet Foxes (Sub Pop) Once again, a band takes us back to the days when dedicated ’60s folkies panicked in the wake of acidrock and retreated into mysticism and history and chorales. Then most of them bought leisure suits and lots of cocaine. Fleet Foxes are certainly on that fast track, with their soaring placid pop scoring mainstream accolades and adoring fans. Of course, they’ve got the benefit of Arcade Fire and The Decemberists making them sound inspired by comparison. The Seattle act is also young enough to look back at the ’70s as ancient history. They probably don’t even care that most of this year’s self-titled debut could be mistaken for a Dan Fogelberg album. There’s an audience for that. Dan’s dead, you know.
Shelby Lynne: Just a Little Lovin’ (Lost Highway) Edward Rogers limping onstage at the Losers Lounge with one leg and one arm to sing “I Can’t Make It Alone” is a heartfelt Dusty Springfield tribute. So was I Am Shelby Lynne, where our titular heroine ditched a dull country career long enough to make a classic ’60s pop album.
Lynne then dashed that surprising success by following up with one of the lamest commercial bids ever. Now it’s nine years later, and she can’t make I Am Shelby Lynne Again. Instead, we get the disastrous Dusty tribute of Just a Little Lovin’. The slick pop sounds more like a tribute to Whitney Houston, although Lynne’s drowsy phrasing is pure Marie Osmond. This album is so bad that we have to worry about it getting in a time machine and going back to prevent the birth of My Name Is Shelby Lynne.
Three 6 Mafia: Last 2 Walk (Sony) We haven’t seen this kind of Oscar curse since Halle Berry. Last 2 Walk is the Three 6 Mafia’s ninth album, and the first since becoming America’s sweethearts with “It’s Hard Out There for a Pimp.” That was mostly a lucky break for a rap act who hung around Memphis until a film crew came along. The band’s now reduced to veteran producers DJ Paul and Juicy J, who’ve never had that much to say. This album’s about nothing more than Juicy getting laid via the Academy, and their clothing line, and—well, they’ve been busy, and there’s no time for the elaborate backing that used to salvage their uninspired raps. But plenty of rock critics found the album to be compelling, because—well, they’re a rap act that rock critics felt compelled to review.
REM: Accelerate (Warner Bros.) There’s no telling why Metallica got all the bad press for the shrill engineering on Death Magnetic. Accelerate sounds just as awful, but maybe critics were happy to hear any kind of new sound from REM. They were certainly happy to praise the album as a return to form. That meant Stipe has pretty much lost interest in the band, so Peter Buck and Mike Mills get almost an entire 40 minutes to try and be a rock act again. But they just can’t write rock songs anymore. The band will carry on, though, if only because Buck can’t even fill small clubs when touring with Robyn Hitchcock.
The Hold Steady: Stay Positive (Vagrant) They’ve built a loyal following as the Joe Piscopos of Brooklyn, but Stay Positive is where The Hold Steady becomes dreary with its annoying one-act plays about blue-collar hard rock. Critics remain grateful for the chance to applaud an act that seems like an underdog no matter how successful they become. Also, it’s easier to praise a rock band than to do something difficult like reading Eugene O’Neill.
Deerhunter: Microcastle (4AD) It used to mean something when an American act signed to England’s elegant and atmospheric 4AD label— primarily, that the folks at 4AD were again lowering their standards. The men of Deerhunter are probably still thrilled with the association. They’re from Atlanta, so there were probably a few years when their self-described ambient punk seemed far from finding a home. Unfortunately, Microcastle is where ambient punk becomes Coldplay with feedback. It gets a little boring waiting for the inevitable flurry guitar holocaust while Deerhunter slowly plunks away to build up the tension. Sometimes they try to shake things up by using jangle-pop to build up the tension. It doesn’t help. Microcastle would be a lot less embarrassing as a debut than as Deerhunter’s third album, but it took 4AD—and music critics—that long to start hoping for the next Modern English.
And for the Most Overrated Concert Dates of 2008, certain suckers got to see Deerhunter on tour with...
Times New Viking: Rip It Off (Matador) They landed their own dream label with this year’s Rip It Off, where Times New Viking paired with Matador to create a hissy art piece that makes Accelerated (or, yes, the new Metallica) sound carefully mastered.
Struggle past the crappy sound, though, and the band’s another journeyman pop act trying to make the next great Pavement album. Sadly, there was barely one great Pavement album, no matter how much of the catalog Matador keeps repackaging.
The Pretenders: Break Up The Concrete (Shangri-La) We’re far into the second decade of press releases assuring us that the new Pretenders album is really, really a return to Chrissie Hynde’s sharp and insightful songwriting.
For some reason, the critics played along for this year’s Break Up The Concrete. The opening track of “Boots of Chinese Plastic” sounds like a warm-up for a decent Pretenders album, but Hynde then lapses right back into the plodding Earth Mother persona that’s defined the vast majority of her career. Longtime drummer Martin Chambers must long for Bill Berry’s brain aneurysm.
Elvis Costello: Momofuku (Lost Highway) Unlike Chrissie Hynde, Elvis Costello made an album that was a throwback to his dynamic early days. That was All This Useless Beauty back in 1996. Momofuku conned a lot of reviewers by having a certain energy, but it’s the same festering frenzy that defused previous attempts like Brutal Youth and When I Was Cruel. The only charm to Momofuku is that the songs came together too quickly for Costello to knock out a companion album of outtakes.
Okkervil River: The Stand Ins (Jagjaguwar) SPIN once flipped a coin over whether Okkervil River or Rilo Kiley made the cover. Rilo deservedly scored by selling out, while Okkervil River remained gimmicky lit-rockers who couldn’t muster a better idea than murder ballads in Cinemascope. How annoying are they now? Consider that the new The Stand Ins is billed as the sequel to last year’s The Stage Names—which means they’ve now made two concept albums about being a touring musician. Song titles include “Singer Songwriter,” “On Tour With Zykos” and “Calling And Not Calling My Ex.” Those would be swell songs from They Might Be Giants, but Okkervil River remains deadly serious in their plodding whimsy. The only way this band could be duller was if they’d written about the life of a rock critic.
