The A.V. Club’s Top 15 Milwaukee albums of 2012
There’s something both thrilling and intimidating about assembling our annual Top 15 Milwaukee albums list. It’s great to revisit old favorites and give them their proper due, but it’s frightening to think of all the worthy entries that might not make the final cut. So while these 15 albums may be the best of the best, they represent only the tip of the Milwaukee music iceberg.
Altos, Altos
Group Of The Altos have been around since 2006, functioning more as a curiosity than an actual band. But 2012 saw the 12-member “surly high school orchestra” shed a few syllables from its name and get serious. The breathtaking Altos sits squarely in the sometimes overcrowded niche of instrumental post-rock, but a prominent avant-garde edge and a sense of sinister experimentation help set it apart from the crowd. Recorded at Bon Iver frontman Justin Vernon’s April Base Studios, the record shares some of Vernon’s DNA, but cuts a strange and troubling path all its own. Always inventive and never comfortable, Altos is the sound of a band creeping up behind you, and of a scene moments before the explosion. [Matt Wild]
Jonathan Burks, How I Roll
The city’s resident troubadour of debauchery doesn’t make music for prudes, but only the stuffiest of old fogies and teetotalers would take offense to lines like “Supple and agile, / eager to please, / I ain’t talkin’ ’bout them, / Hell, I’m talkin’ ’bout me!” But Burks’ charm doesn’t end with his humor—his simple, twang-ified rock and roll tunes are all long-lost step-nephews of Exile On Main St., and his words frequently cut deeper than efforts to titillate. The defiant earnestness of “Note To Self” and “I Like It” mesh well with the heartfelt sloppy sentimentality of “Got A Feeling” and “Call It Even,” all making up a blurry watercolor portrait of a genuinely gifted songwriter who doesn’t know how to bullshit. [Cal Roach]
Catacombz, Mother Tongue 2
It may sound odd to refer to a kraut-rock acid freakout band with a tendency toward seven-minute vamps as “inventive,” but if there’s one thing that cements Catacombz’ standing as one of the most wildly original groups in the city, it’s that they’re able to take a riff, blow smoke and strobe lights around it for extended periods, and never come close to boring. Mother Tongue 2 takes the themes developed in its predecessor, Mother Tongue One, and expands on them, inexplicably taking their already badass Can-fronted-by-Mike-Patton’s-little-brother din and giving it a skeleton, form, and function to the tune of more straight-up rock (but with, you know, vocoders and effects boxes and lights and shit). Be sure to keep an extra bottle of water around while rolling to this one. [DJ Hostettler]
The Championship, High Feather
Since coming onto the scene in 2005 with its rock-solid debut Dance Cassador! The Championship has amassed a resume few of the band’s contemporaries could scoff at. A long departure from its established catalog of whiskey-tinged ballads and twangy numbers about small town unrest, the eight-song High Feather finds The Championship taking an uncharacteristically downtrodden path. As unfamiliar as the bleak overtone taken in songs like “My Heart Goes Out To You” and “Lonely Stranger”might be to fans, The Championship expertly navigates the tumultuous album, highlighted by the subdued—though still identifiable—vocals Crockett slathers atop the heft of sad-sack solos provided by new guitarist Quinn Scharber. [Tyler Maas]
Elusive Parallelograms, Habits and Spaces EPs
Doug Martsch’s long-lost cousins in Elusive Parallelograms had a turbulent year lineup-wise, going through drummers at a Spinal Tap-ish clip. So it’s a minor miracle that they managed to churn out not one, but two devastatingly gorgeous EPs of atmospheric trip-rock. Both Habits and Spaces follow similar structures, beginning with airy mood-setters and then commencing with the fuzzed-out pop hooks. While the Parallelograms have a few friends in high enough places to snag them cherry Summerfest and Yellow Phone Music Conference slots, they don’t get a lot of love in the hipper circles of Milwaukee and remain criminally underrated. Hopefully more releases like these (and, knock on wood, a steadily occupied drum throne) will start garnering this formidable sextet the attention they deserve. [DH]
Fahri, Final Disconnect Notice
’90s revivalism may be all the rage, but little of what Fahri does seems intentionally fashionable. Fronted by husband-and-wife duo Myles Murray and Sarah Long, the band serves as a perfect antithesis to the rote and often indulgent shoegaze hawked by so many other bands. Final Disconnect Notice finds the group somewhere between Sonic Youth at its most tuneful, and ’90s post-punk at its most yearning. Opener “Lazy Fruit” practically wills Fahri into existence, with Murray intoning, “Live / live from the studio / They had us on the radio” under a bed of jagged guitars and warehouse-sized drums. But it’s the boatload of hooks underneath all that noise that sets the album apart, as evidenced by the terrific “The Island Cannibal King.” [MW]
Heavy Hand, Confusion Is Body Parts
Comprised of parts leftover from the vastly different likes of New Blind Nationals and The Scarring Party, the three-piece cock-punched Milwaukee in 2012 with its blistering 19-minute debut EP Confusion Is Body Parts. In two- to three-minute intervals, the abrasive yelps of Anthony Weber, along with the succinct and solid rhythm accompaniment of drummer Chris Roberts and Weber’s wife/first-time bass player Isa Carini show flashes of the Minutemen and The Thermals. Meanwhile, jokey song titles like “Vagina Fucking Die” and “Inspired By Haircuts” serve to suggest any similarities in sound are purely coincidental and not at all planned, much like anything the promising post-punk project does. [TM]
IfIHadAHiFi, Nada Surf +3
Hey, remember the ’90s? When “PC” used to stand for “politically correct?” We’re so overrun with acronyms now that this definition of “PC” has vanished, but the condition seems to have returned, at least in the music world; nobody this side of Ani DiFranco has the ambition to write blatant political song lyrics. Yet the men of IfIHadAHiFi (including A.V. Club contributor DJ Hostettler) fearlessly spew out their lefty rhetoric to convincing, sometimes hilarious effect on Nada Surf +3. Putting aside the venomous invective of “Imperial Walker” and “Minotaur Documentation,” there’s no mistaking the otherwise nerdy interests of these noisy instrument-bashers: science, comics, and “sports entertainment.” Add in a totally unique brand of blistering instrument-pummeling with the hugest, rawest production yet of a HiFi record, and you’ve got a doozy of a statement. [CR]
Juniper Tar, Since Before
Say what you will about the accolades enjoyed by Jaill and Field Report, but 2012 belonged to Juniper Tar. In addition to its Hotel Foster residency, a Daytrotter session, being featured on a Bruce Springsteen tribute album, and its jam-packed itinerary or festival gigs, the crown jewel of Juniper Tar’s most accomplished year to date is Since Before. From front to back, the album is meticulous in its construction as it meanders from uproarious (as expressed in “Twin Comet” and “The Dullest Cleaver”) to crushing (“Canting” and “There Was Blood”), bridged by a series of beautiful instrumental selections. By the time the harmonies in “Vaults” bring Since Before to a crescendo, Juniper Tar is no longer the middling, take ’em or leave ’em Milwaukee outfit it was before; but, instead, an undeniable heavy-hitter and owner of the city’s sturdiest effort in recent memory. [TM]
Klassik, In The Making
Few local albums received more mainstream acclaim in 2012 than In The Making, the debut LP from Milwaukee rapper Klassik. It only takes one listen to figure out why: the record is bright, jazzy, and clear-eyed, filled with dense arrangements from the classically trained producer yet still somehow light as a feather. At 17 full-length tracks, In The Making is a big album, but it never feels overstuffed or overlong. Every track works, from the spacey “Running2” to the gorgeous “Stay” and the terrific “UrNextMove,” featuring a guest spot from Milwaukee’s Oye. Put on a pair of headphones, press play, and just try to wipe the grin off your face. [MW]
Lamb’s Legs, Drinks Bats Milk
Lamb’s Legs hit the ground stomping in 2012, delivering a grimy blast of industrial-wasteland proto-punk with Drinks Bats Milk, a sure-fire soundtrack for long nights broken down on the shoulder of I-80 in Gary, Indiana. Bjorn Severtson does his best Dave Thomas/Ian Curtis hybrid deadpan caterwaul while the rhythm section of Dan Agacki and Kevin DeMars thwomp and splat under Jeb Ebben’s gloriously grating guitar on hypnotic dirges like the deranged “Sweat & Flies,” where Severtson demands to know, “is that toothpaste or KY Jelly?” It’s nice to know that punk can still be ugly and beautiful at the same time, not unlike the turn-of-the-century elephant execution film that inspires the blazing funeral dirge/mosh “Topping Topsy.” Someone hire these dudes to score a silent movie, STAT. [DH]
Like Like The The The Death, Ghosts Of Dead Bros
Michael Marchant and Tony Weber have been collaborating for over a decade, but they upped their game in a huge way this year with the debut of their cumbersomely named Like Like The The The Death. Anchored by drummer Dan Hanke and bassist Kyle Scheuer, Weber and Scheuer provide the perfect balance of screamy/singy vocals over a batch of high-energy indie that treads that precarious high wire between noise and pop. If that's not compelling enough, LLTTTD managed to squeeze out a power-pop diamond in the mandatory sing-along “Holy Ghosty.” [DH]
Pretty Wounds, Whatever, Go Away
The term “punk rock” has been diluted to the point that now bands like Titus Andronicus claim the label, but sometimes it’s nice to hear loud, vicious screaming, buzzsaw guitars, and not much else. Then again, as evidenced on opening track “The Purist,” Pretty Wounds don’t give a shit what you call their music: “I won’t / go away/ no matter what they say” is the rallying cry of the song and the record. It helps that these guys write catchy-as-hell riffs contained in relentlessly aggressive three-minute tunes. “Temper Temper” and “Such A Shame” will get your butt jiggling in your swivel chair and your head banging so you can’t read your computer screen. There’s nothing complicated or even unique here—it’s a tight collection of simple, beastly tunes to crank loud any time you want to piss someone off. [CR]
Sat. Nite Duets, Summer Of Punishment
Milwaukee’s premier purveyors of shaggy guitar rock try their damndest to be frivolous, but on the excellent Summer Of Punishment, Sat. Nite Duets let their guard down and reveal some genuine concerns. Sure, there are still plenty of lyrics about getting shit-faced and carpooling with AC/DC, but scratch the shambling surface and you’ll find a wistful, winning tribute to gauzy nostalgia and misspent summer youth. Nowhere does that heady theme resonate more strongly than on Summer’s best track, “Of Age.” Amidst the band’s well-honed sound, a bittersweet tale of “wasting your 20s” is sketched out with remarkable clarity and humor. “Growing up can only be so hard” is the sort of effortless, tossed-off line that Sat. Nite Duets have long excelled at, but the band outdoes itself with the terrifically evocative lyric, “Take your handle off the bars and fly, / pretty soon it’s going to be July.” There’s no amount of gags or snickering references that can take the edge off a line like that. [MW]
Surgeons In Heat, Surgeons In Heat
After quickly establishing a name for itself in 2011 through a taxing schedule of local shows and the release of its debut EP, Surgeons In Heat took its foot off the gas pedal in 2012. However, the group’s second full year still saw Surgeons playing Summerfest, opening for Juniper Tar’s Turner Hall release show, dropping a Daytrotter session, and reprising its falsetto-laden EP with a debut full-length, also called Surgeons In Heat. Though the follow-up includes all six songs from its predecessor, the five new offerings alone make this album worthy of mention. Forgetting the repeated cuts, Surgeons In Heat reaches its head with the “Oooooo”s of the upbeat track—an anomaly—“Flying Away,” and conjures questions of what the band could accomplish if it regains focus in 2013. [TM]
