I've been waiting for this moment since February. As a huge music nerd, I like talking about music even if it's not within my video-making wheelhouse. I actually planned to make my second ever video a countdown for my picks for the best songs of last year (and filmed footage for it, which then got properly fucked up) and, since I never actually finished that venture, my yearning to do the same this year has been even higher than it would normally have been. So, I've been keeping tabs on every truly memorable and noteworthy song I've heard this past year and have amassed a whopping 52 candidates for what will probably end up being 10 finalists. Since I'm making this a huge thing for this year, I figured I should lay down some ground rules for how I'm organizing my final list.
One song per artist/band. As much as I would love to put every song from ...Like Clockwork on this list, it just wouldn't be fair to all of the other equally great music from this year.
Songs are judged on a purely subjective scale. Though the title of it is "Best," it's not actually the be-all-end-all decider of these matters. And, let's face it: "Matt's Favorite Songs of 2013" doesn't exactly have the same ring to it.
Songs must have first debuted in 2013. That means that, if song was on an album that came out in 2012 and then became a single in 2013, it doesn't count, and vice versa. I'm still debating on whether Unknown Mortal Orchestra's Swim and Sleep (Like A Shark) qualifies on these terms.
Covers are fair game. Trust me, this will matter.
This one's purely personal, but strong openers/closers and/or insanely good lyrics hold a lot of clout. As a big album person, the former usually makes a huge, weighted impact on my opinions. The latter is just due to my admiration for great writing.
...and that's honestly it for now. I don't really have many clearly defined indicators for what I deem "best," but this seems to encapsulate what my thoughts have been towards this list so far. If I think of more, I'll tack them on. Also, I'll put a tally of the number of songs in the running after each round of listening and subsequent elimination that I go through, updating this post whenever I narrow the playing field further.
Initial # of Candidates: 52
After First Round: 24
After Second Round: 20
After Third Round: 12
After Fourth (and Final) round: 11
...I'm going to lose my mind doing this, aren't I?
(In order to discuss what stood out for me in Gone Home in detail, I need to dive into what some people will consider major spoilers. If you haven't played the game yet and don't want anything spoiled, play the game right away then come back and read this.)
Let me clear something up right away: I don't think that games can't (or have not yet) delved into truly mature territory yet. Plenty of games have dealt with complex themes and difficult subjects, but what hit me the hardest about Gone Home was how it handled what was at its core. In the past 24 hours, after finishing the game, I've been thinking about the storyline that stood out to me the most and have been reading up on various pieces of analysis. Though I definitely failed to pick up on some subtle bits of information (Terry's story makes a lot more sense having read the confirmed subtext regarding him and Oscar), the main focus of the game with Sam still resonated because it felt the most real.
While I, as many people think, do not necessarily condone or approve of what Sam actually does by the game's conclusion (running away from home explicitly and possibly stealing her parents' possessions implicitly), the way the game conveys this plot is what hit me hard. First off, the writing within Sam's journals is raw, simple, and human. It's already incredibly rare to see a queer romance in video games given as much attention as the one at the center of this game, but the way it's detailed is surprisingly realistic. The relationship between Sam and Lonnie is treated like an honest-to-God love story and, though you can see somewhat where it's headed early into the game, the realism behind some of the events in their shared experience is achingly executed.
The journal entry that I thought was the strongest (and the clearest indicator of the power of this plot) was the one in which Sam describes eventually telling her parents about her relationship with Lonnie. Instead of outright denying her sexual identification, they tell her she's just going through a phase, a statement that hurts her harder than the other option ever could have. That alone emotionally floored me. I mean, wow. I could discuss in length why this entry itself had this much emotional impact, but, due to my own lack in speaking to this section's accuracy, I'm going to direct you to an article that says that much better than I ever could.
Secondly, I love how the game subverts common player expectations of execution to tell its story in the simplest way possible. Despite the constantly present storm buzzing in your ears and the effectively creepy sound effects (the creaking of floors and doors, obviously, but at one point, I distinctly heard a whispering of "Hey, you" out of nowhere), there are no scares or any threatening forces in the house. Why? Because, like Sam, the only things that could possibly stand to hurt you are those that occupy the house. The occupants (the chief perpetrators) may be gone, but the documentation of what happened is enough to create emotional scars. This is why simple exploration, the core feature of the game, works much better than it sounds on paper. Discovering how these scars are formed is the true tension of the game. By the time I realized where the events with Sam and Lonnie were going, the game turned into me steadfastly searching for the next entry, promptly followed by me feeling extreme sympathy due to these notes' openness and honesty. I started the game dreading where the "psycho house" business was headed, thinking I had it figured out. I ended the game racing to the attic, anxious and worried about how Sam's story would end.
The fact that a game made me not only willing to simply explore people's lives (people who we never actually see in person, mind you) peripherally, but enthralled to learn the next piece of their narrative merely by examining objects lying about is a marvel. I can't say enough in this game's favor; it's easily one of my most memorable gaming experiences ever, one which I'm certain I won't ever forget the emotional impact it's had on me.
So, as I’ve said in the
past, maybe it’s best not to attach a target date to my videos. This latest
video, which, if my current plans are on target, will come out about three
months after the last one, has been a killer to get around to doing.
As I assumed, once summer
ended, my free time has just been nonexistent. It took me a month alone just
trying to watch the movie for the next episode again and take notes on it. It
then took another month trying to devote time to writing the script. I only
hope it won’t take another month to film the damn thing, as I want to be done
with it as soon as possible.
However, I plan on being a
lot more manageable in my devotion to videos in the coming months. My schedule
looks a lot better come mid-December and, fingers crossed, I’m going to try to
get at least one video done each month.
Even still, be ready for
January. In lieu of a review, I’m probably going to be doing at least two,
maybe three if I need be, retrospectives on this year in both film and music. I
started making videos with the former last year and, now that I actually know
what I’m doing, this year’s version of that should definitely be more
entertaining to watch. I tried doing one for the latter last year, but my awful
knowledge of technology made that video unwatchable so I outright scrapped it.
Still, I’ll have more than enough time to do both of those videos, and possibly
one more, in January before CineMatt Reviews returns in February.
So, to recap:
-New CineMatt Review
coming soon-ish (no promises on date)
-Two (or three)
retrospectives in January
-More timely releases of
videos in 2014
Got that? Good. Here’s to
some fucking awesome videos in the near future.
A few days ago, I vaguely knew of Chumbawamba's insanely storied and varied career, and was familiar with only a couple of their songs, but never delved deeper than that. That changed when I came across a CD copy of WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get) lying around, burned it onto my computer out of pure curiosity, sat back and listened.
I can't tell if this is the best decision of my life or what will ultimately doom me. This album has consumed my life. I've listened to it once a day for four days straight. I have multiple songs stuck in my head. And, perhaps the deadliest factor, I now want to listen to the entirety of Chumbawamba's discography.
WYSIWYG is one of the best albums I've heard in years. It's fantastic as an album, as a collection of songs, and as an entry point for Chumbawamba newbies such as myself. And it's slowly looking like it'll eventually creep onto my undocumented list of all-time favorite albums.
The album, the immediate follow-up to Tubthumper (featuring the band's massive hit Tubthumping), is a collection of various segments of musical avenues and detours, usually separated by some chatter or archaic sample, satirizing American pop culture as a response to the band's newfound popularity. As the recycled audio at the end of opener I'm With Stupid states:
And now, for the rest of the record,
We have a selection of musical items
A stereo treat for all your hard work
The band is sarcastically rewarding the audiences that launched them into cultural relevancy. How? By bitingly taking them down a few pegs. The names that get mentioned and subsequently skewered throughout the album include Rush Limbaugh, George W. Bush, Jerry Springer, and Charlton Heston. When not particularly naming names, the group still has their sights dead-set on a specific audience (the upper class is notably brutally savaged lyrically on songs like She's Got All The Friends That Money Can Buy and I'm Coming Out). All of this is suitably fitting within Chumbawamba's left-wing, anarchist, constantly critical history, but has even more of a bite to it when paired with well-produced, catchy dance beats.
What separates WYSIWYG from other albums that need to be listened to entirely to get the full effect (like Need New Body's UFO) are two crucial things: musical motifs and overall quality of songs. Whereas UFO was a bizarre hodgepodge of throwing in every random idea in the hope that at least one would be worthwhile, WYSIWYG is simultaneously in a constant flow while subtly sneaking in signs that the album is a holistic affair. Melodies and samples resurface in the background or as outros to segue into the next song without any visible seams. It honestly feels as if the album was fully mapped out and planned meticulously, the band wholly aware of how the overall experience would come together.
Though you would think that this would make the songs themselves less notable, every song has something to bring to the table and a sizable chunk of the songs have at least one deviously memorable element that's sure to root itself into your brain. From the looping strings and distorted title chant of I'm Coming Out, to the slinky surf guitar and blaring brass of I'm In Trouble Again, to the overpowering bombast and badassery of Jesus in Vegas, there's something to love in almost every song.
The tone of the album makes it simple for anyone to jump in as well. There's a general sense of humor to pretty much every song, as the minor-key I'm With Stupid displays in a crystal-clear punchline. This extends to the various brief segments peppered throughout, such as Monkees-satirizing Hey Hey We're The Junkies and the group's take on morality advocation organizations in Ladies For Compassionate Lynching. The one time that the album clearly deviates from this tone is in its somber and chilling acapella cover of the Bee Gee's already deadly serious New York Mining Disaster 1941. Though the song sits uncomfortably in between Internet Age track WWW Dot and Woodstock riot-centric I'm Not Sorry, I Was Having Fun without any clear build-up or bridging, the punch hits harder than anything else on WYSIWYG.
I'm going to be totally honest here: I was unsure if I could find a negative thing to say about this album. There are plenty of songs that are going to remain glued to my memory banks for years to come. Every extraneous byway has a point and contributes to the greater themes and mood of the album, and, unlike UFO, are ultimately worth taking the minor detour for. The only song I find lacking in the entire album is Celebration, Florida, which makes its message clear far too soon and has only a single clever line in its three-plus minutes of time, meandering for the rest of its duration around the same central idea. Even still, this song is merely mediocre and, when faced with the multitude of choice selections spread throughout the album, doesn't detract that much from the overall experience.
And, may I say, it's an experience well worth having. If I end up becoming a die-hard Chumbawamba fan as a result of listening to this album, I can safely say that I'll be more than glad to have done so. For better or worse, this album has squeezed its way into my life and, based on how I've been internalizing it over the past few days, is sure to remain a part of it for a while.
Best Songs: I'm In Trouble Again, Jesus in Vegas, I'm Coming Out Worst Song (based solely on a relative scale): Celebration, Florida
