Week 2: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out

6. YO LA TENGO - And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out
Matador, 2000

Yo La Tengo have never really been all that exciting - sure, there was a certain scrappy indie rock intensity that colored their early material, although in some cases the songcraft suffered; it stands to reason, then, that a toned-down, mellowed-out version of the band might induce narcolepsy in even those most wired of speed freaks. But who'd'a thunk it'd be so gosh dang captivating? "Everyday" opens this painfully-long-winded-titled rekkid (a Sun Ra reference - NERDS!) with a stoned detachment, keyboards droning behind a shuffling beat and Mrs. Georgia Hubley's best bored-out-of-her-mind, junkie-zombie vocals. None of this sounds exciting, and it ain't, but whaddaya know: it's gorgeous! And a little spooky. And although it's not the dissonant jangle of "Sugarcube," the next track, "Our Way to Fall," is an equally affecting love song (minus the passive aggression), and a damn right pretty one at that. I reckon you might say Yo La Tengo officially Got Old on this record. Course this isn't to say it's all sad sappy slow songs - "Cherry Chapstick" is a rocker that brings to mind the YLT of yore, complete with Thurston-style guitar massacring and a six-minute run-time that never slows its roll. They've done more rock'n'roll-flavored stuff since (and good stuff at that!), but nothing this pure; nothing this complete. Every piece of this album's proverbial puzzle falls right into place.

STREAM: Yo La Tengo - "Our Way to Fall"

Week 2: Nuclear War

5. SUN RA ARKESTRA - Nuclear War
Y Records, 1982; Atavistic, 2001

"It's a motherfucker/Don't you know/If they push that button/Your ass got to go." Thus goes the mantra, repeated over and over again into oblivion by Ra and a chorus of paranoid backup singers on the funky title track (and opener) from Sun Ra's lost little gem of a record, recorded in 1982 and put out as a 12" single on Italian label Y Records but not given a legit release until 2001 and well THANK GOD IN HEAVEN for whomever decided to give this one a go, because it's a brain-burner. The aforementioned opening track, with its scary pseudo-soothsayin' warnings of death and destruction, ambles along with a nice little dance shuffle and some sparse piano chords before giving way to a drunken dirge called "Retrospect," which is over before you know it and in comes a Duke Ellington standard, "Drop Me Off in Harlem," played faithfully and without pretense and you're all Huh? June Tyson arrives with some flat-out lovely vocals for the next track, "Sometimes I'm Happy," and everything makes complete sense. From then on it's smooth sailing; or, at the very least it's as smooth as you're gonna get from the Arkestra. Their unholy big band/hard bop/avant-funk concoction has come to a boil and simmers nicely on Nuclear War; jazz purists may scoff at Ra's more esoteric tendencies (others among us love 'em), but when ol' June shows up again on the end track and implores us all to "Smile/Through your tears and sorrow/Smile/And maybe tomorrow/You'll see the sun come shining through," even the saddest among us might allow a grin or two.

Week 2: Didn't It Rain

4. SONGS: OHIA – Didn’t It Rain
Secretly Canadian, 2002

I could write at length about why any album by Jason Molina is probably better than anyone else’s best album but I’ll try to shove my fanboy instincts in the closet just this once. This record’s magic is undeniable and immediate; from the clean, sparse opening chords of the title track to the very last closing echoes of “Blue Chicago Moon,” this is one tuff goddamn ghost of an album. “When I die/Put my bones in an empty street/To remind me how it used to be,” croons Molina in “Blue Factory Flame,” (the most On The Beachian of the songs here but also the most haunting) and holy Christ, it’s soul-wrenching. J-Mo’s done his share of brilliant songwriting, but most of his albums are riddled with at least one or two (usually well-intentioned) missteps. Not here, boss. Sure, Didn’t It Rain is imperfect, but that’s what makes it human; unlike those hucksters that fill records with auto-tune and studio effects to hide the fact they couldn’t write or sing their way out of a paper sack, Molina knows the only way to properly chronicle the foibles ‘n joy of being a human being is to do it RAW. He’s on a different tip now with the Magnolia stuff, but he’s never been better than he is here, and that’s the damn truth.

DOWNLOAD: Songs: Ohia - "Two Blue Lights"

A quick note

Now that we're all revved up and ready to go, I'm implementing what will hopefully be a regular schedule on TW3. I'm looking at a Monday-Friday time frame for the "Weekly" part, with each of the "Three" coming on Monday, Wednesday and Friday specifically. Feel free to leave thoughts or suggestions in the comments to this post.

Week 1: The Glands

3. THE GLANDS – The Glands
Capricorn, 2000

Those in search of the perfect pop record can keep looking, ‘cause it don’t exist. But they can at least stop and smell the flowers on The Glands, which comes dangerously close to claiming that title. Unlike so many records of its type, there’s no sag in this album’s midsection (no sweat, happens to the best of us); instead, after a would-be total downer like “Mayflower” comes the upbeat, la-la-la-ing “Lovetown,” which is then followed up by Best Song on the Album candidate number one “Straight Down,” with its delightfully inane lyrics (“See a lady with a poodle/It’s the color of tomato/In a bad way”) that somehow make sense even though they don’t. Sure, “Swim” cribs a little too hard from “Martha My Dear,” and in their hometown of Athens, GA, the (now defunct) band’s biggest fans are, weirdly but perhaps not so much so, the same frat boys who pack out shows by hacks like the Whigs or the Modern Skirts, but we’re willing to look past all that, because this album’s one of the best to come out of that wonderful little town, ever. In The Aeroplane... and Dusk At Cubist Castle aren't without their charms, but for my dollar, The Glands outlasts 'em both.

STREAM: The Glands - "Swim"

Week 1: The Lonesome Crowded West

2. MODEST MOUSE – The Lonesome Crowded West
Up Records, 1997

Critics have proclaimed 2000’s The Moon and Antarctica to be the band’s finest hour, but too often that album loses footing amidst gratuitous studio trickery and singer Isaac Brock’s pseudo-existential ramblings. The Lonesome Crowded West is a lean record; not in length (over 70 minutes), but in the fact that there ain’t no goddamn fat on these bones. Brock and co. (this is before that guy from the Smiths joined the band, mind you) hit all the right notes, and some of the wrong ones, but even those are right one way or another. Many have called this a perfect driving album, and they’re right, but the driving evoked here is not the standard road-trip-with-buddies fare. No, this is the soundtrack to a mad escape, from point A to point who-the-fuck-knows-where, a frenzied run from the law maybe, or from someone or something who wants you d-e-a-d dead and you don’t know why, or maybe and probably after all the only thing you’re running from is your own damn self.

DOWNLOAD: Modest Mouse - "Doin' the Cockroach"

Week 1: Standards

1. TORTOISE - Standards
Thrill Jockey, 2001

The way this fucker explodes right out of the gate, spastic drums all over the place paired with that slithering python of a guitar line, but then there's a pause and BAM, it's razor-sharp; delicately chaotic, it unravels further and further with each listen, like great records do. Frankly, though (or perhaps because) these guys obviously know their way around their instruments, some of what they've done has been a little boring - emotionally stilted, innocuous instrumental post-rock begging for some kinda edge (it's foremost the production, beautifully overdriven, which absolves Standards of any hint of stodginess) - but this is the record we always hoped they would make, that someone would, at least, and that they probably will not come close to making again. A flippantly destructive end-transmission and a careful, loving homage to bygone days (and probably, a dire warning of some kind of terrible future). And it grooves! Boy, does it groove.

STREAM: Tortoise - "Seneca"

The Weekly Three

THE GOAL: Three great albums every week, with semi-in-depth analysis of/half-baked ruminations on the bunch.