THE BEST RELEASES OF 2003

By Misha L. Ben-David, musician, songwriter, former member Austin (TX) Municipal Music Commission and BuzzMix® Raconteur-At-Large.

Anyway, let's get started with the ten best discs of 2003. Some of you already know my A-1 choice for best album of the year, because I've already said it's the best album of the last ten years - not a single misplaced note anywhere to be found. Clever, funny, thought provoking, charming with some ballsy hooks that are sweeter than Beyonce's modeling portfolio. That would be Fountains Of Wayne's Welcome Interstate Managers has no equal in pop music since Crowded House broke up in 1996. They manage to morph their love of The Beatles, Kinks, Who, Cheap Trick and The Cars into a gorgeously addictive slab of pure pleasure.  If you've heard Stacey's Mom and loved it, I'll tell you that it's only the fourth or fifth best song on this wondrously fresh disc.  If you didn't like Stacey's Mom, then get back on your medication and come to your senses. You won't get diabetes from the rest of Welcome Interstate Managers but you'll probably get a few new cavities and they'll be worth a few trips to the orthodontist, let me assure you.

Another CD was almost as good as Welcome Interstate Managers, but I'd almost call it WIM's evil twin. Electric Version from New Pornographers isn't sweet and sticky, but it's thankfully punk-free solid guitar crunch is to die for.  OK, using the term "evil" isn't accurate; this disc is dusky and nihilistic in spots, but where Fountains of Wayne starts with The Beatles, NP clearly draws more influence from The Rolling Stones, and then finishes out their collective CD player with Black Sabbath, The Cure, The Smiths and Nirvana. And that's not bad at all.  Nonetheless, Electric Version has it's own memorable tunage, but it comes in much darker hues than the joyful paisley that colors WIM.  Neko Case, an "adult pop" solo act with limited success of her own, fronts NP and she reveals a startling voice and throws down some serious lyrics here. These two discs make a perfect pair - two quite different takes on modern pop music and both are immensely satisfying and will be played for years, if not decades, to come.

While we're talking pop music, is there a writer with his head mounted outside of his ass that wouldn't put John Mayer's Heavier Things on his top ten list?  I think not!  I was privileged to see this striking young fellow live and as brilliant as his records are, he's a whole 'nuther thang on stage.  I was also surprised to see Mayer's serious blues chops, which he displays eloquently during stretched out versions of his lush, compact pop songs.  A few weeks ago, I ran into Tommy Shannon, half of Stevie Ray Vaughan's Double Trouble, and he revealed that DT is touring with Mayer and blues godfather Buddy Guy.  If all you know about Mayer is Heavier Things and last year's Room For Squares, that sounds like a completely absurd proposition...sorta like Johnny Cash covering Nine Inch Nails...but Tommy revealed that Stevie Ray is Mayer's #1 influence.  Coulda' knocked me over with a feather!  Which is exactly how Heavier Things affected me.  Since then I've been saying that Mayer is the writer Dave Matthews wishes he were. Mayer and Matthews share a love of oddball lyrics and syncopation.  But where Matthews overcooks his vocals, tightens down arrangements and gives art school-style performances, Mayer quickly warms up his live shows and sounds restless and unrestrained.  In short, Mayer is in no hurry to appeal to the dreaded adult alternative demographic.  Given the overflow crowd of tight-jeaned, belly button sharing high school and college girls at his shows, I'm the last one who'd blame him!

No, Dave Matthews latest disc doesn't make this list; he's not even close. But Red Hot Chili Peppers do. I know it's technically kibitzing to put a greatest hits record on a best-of list, but I did it in 2001 (Pink Floyd's creatively produced Echoes). Now, I've decided it's OK if there is something beyond the mere roll call of hits that draws attention to the disc. Such is definitely the case for Greatest Hits.  RHCP drummer Chad Smith writes in the liner notes about what the band will be remembered for.  "It's the socks, the drugs and being the progenitors of hybrid of rock/funk. I hope this record proves that there is a bit more to us than that. "  Well, isn't that enough to be remembered for, Chad?  It sure is for me.  RHCP isn't just the band that created the hybrid, they managed to bridge the gap between George Clinton and The Clash, and did so with more consistency than either of them. Every note of this record adds another insightful span to that bridge. Were RHCP say...The Eagles...then this record wouldn't make a best of list.  Sure, The Eagles have plenty claims to fame, but a disc of their songs is, well, just a disc of their songs. With RHCP, it's more like a document; a blueprint; for how to get from there to here and how it looks and feels to view the entire rugged, messy, controversial journey at once. RHCP is the only band who's ever made that trip because most other genre benders flame out pretty fast. RHCP has stood at the edge and looked down more than once and their music is honest, clever, funky, and they will never, ever be mistaken for anyone else. Speaking of bridges, Is there a more moving and unnerving rock hit in the past 25 years than Under The Bridge? Not in my world.

Audioslave's eponymous debut is somehow lost in all the miserable "chin hair rock" that's been stuffing radio this past year.  Well, that really sucks, because even though the disc quickly went gold, it's a rarity on the airwaves.  Audioslave is 3/4 of Rage Against The Machine and 1/4 of Soundgarden. That 1/4 is one of the most distinctive and badly mimicked voices of the past 15 years; Chris Cornell.  RATM lost vocalist Zach De La Rocha in 2000, and after a year of frustrating and fruitless auditions, the admittedly ambivalent Cornell took the job after having turned it down previously. The result is truly heartening for those of us who like aggressive, intelligent hard rock that doesn't bow down before the Clear Channel beast and it's cookie cutter play lists.  RATM and Soundgarden didn't have a whole lot in common musically but Audioslave shows the one essential factor they did share: an obsession with Led Zeppelin's 1976 album Physical Graffiti. And I mean that in a good way. Honest. As is true with all really exceptional bands, Audioslave has an easily detectable "sound" all their own... and it's a beefy, driven mixture of RATM's jackhammer rhythms and Soundgarden's thick, black melodies and Cornell's languid, raspy delivery. (Remember Black Hole Sun, one of the best singles of the 90's?) Cornell is well into his 40's and he sounds far better than Robert Plant did at the same age, but he hasn't mellowed one bit since The 'Garden went south in 1996. Oddly, Audioslave actually broke up after the record was recorded. Cornell and guitarist Tom Morello came to blows over Morello's shrill and unbending neo-socialist political activities on Audioslave's nickel. But management interceded and everyone hugged, sang a rousing chorus of Le Internationale and got back to work. Cornell won.  Morello will pursue a side project to satisfy his Ché Guevarra-esque leanings. Audioslave is apolitical, high quality, contemporary, blue collar hard rock and that's in dreadfully short supply these days.  Morello is a fresh and precocious guitarist; Cornell has a rich and distinctive voice. Together, they write powerful music that overwhelms pretty much everything else that's over 90db these days. Here's to a follow up in 2004...can I hear an ay-meeun???

Speaking of hard rock, I have no choice but to include another underappreciated and unforgivably ignored disc. That would be Deep Purple's Bananas.  To misquote an obsolete automobile commercial," This ain't your father's Deep Purple".  Not hardly.  DP is merrily filling stadiums and symphony halls in Europe, Asia and South America while American classic rock radio still plays Woman From Tok-A-Yo and Smoke On The Water every 20 minutes and program directors don't even know the band is still alive. Pity that, because they have fared much better and work much harder than many of the moldy 70's acts that are still making major label records here, like Rod "Rooster Head" Stewart and ( boy it reeealllly pains me to say this...) Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and a host of others who are sunning themselves while they cash their checks. Bananas is packed with beefy, sharply arranged songs injected with Steve Morse's high powered jazzy guitar work and the well groomed keyboards of new member Don Airey. Vocalist Ian Gillian has neither the hair nor the vocal range he used to, but Bananas plays to his strength, a still punchy and robust tenor voice. The rhythm section of Roger Glover and Ian Paice first played together in 1968 and they are still one of the most respected in rock music.  DP is much less blues driven than they used to be in the 70's; today's Purple records muscular songs heavily influenced by Morse's studied approach to writing and his fluid, busy licks.  Zeppelin may have had out-debauched and out promoted themselves in the 70's, but show for show and album for album (Zeppelin made only 9; Purple has made 24 and counting!) was a more driven and more compelling band.  So what are Page and Plant doing these days? Selling old concert and video footage, while Purple offers astonishing new material like Bananas and sells 30,000 seats in Rio De Janeiro and Berlin!!!

Say, where is the "temperamental man in black" - original guitarist and world class practical joker Ritchie Blackmore - these days? Playing Medieval festivals with his Stevie Nicks-look-alike wife. Oh well, any port in a storm. Get some Bananas on your next shopping trip, will ya?

Pearl Jam's Lost Dogs is the obligatory collection of bric-a-brac that didn't make the cut for various albums, or appeared somewhere other than a PJ record.  Is this a great double album or what?  Umm, it's OK.  It has some cool stuff and some pointless stuff and a lot of stuff that's somewhere in between.  So what's with putting on my ten best list? Well, first off, their final album for Epic Records Riot Act was their best since 1994's Vitalogy, so maybe I'm just confused about which disc belongs on here.  Wouldn't be the first time.  But my reason for putting them on this list is that they are my "most valuable players" this year, and for that reason people should be hearing and buying their material.  PJ, always a David willing to shoot hollow points at the music biz Goliaths, decided to abandon Epic and for now anyway, sell their songs on their own. What?  Blowing off a major label for a CD burner in the road manager's garage and sales handled only via webpage?  It seems so.  PJ's bold conclusion is that even if they lose half of their sales (which is likely) they can sell their discs for less and still make far more money by cutting out Sony, the greedy middleman.  The record company swallows up more than $8 a disc for limousines, cocaine, press parties and various trinkets and perks.  PJ gets about a dollar and a half for a CD that is listed at $18.98.  Further, if PJ creates and distributes their own material, they can sell all the authorized bootlegs & side projects (all the guys in PJ are in at least one) they want with a minimum of expenses.  On the other hand, by burning the Sony rope ladder, they could also disappear into obscurity.  Thus Eddie Vedder has admitted that the band is listening to offers from other majors and will consider them, when they get around to it.  As of today, PJ works for themselves and their fans and that, sports fans, works for me and should be a small source of light in the bleak and miserable tunnel of music bidness economics.

Bruce Cockburn is hardly a household name in the US, although he's close to Justin Timberlake status in Canada. Cockburn has been making records since 1970 and has, only in the last decade, drawn serious attention of American and European record buyers.  Now, he is one of the leading voices of angry liberalism in music, so he won't be raking in Toby Keith-type cash anytime soon.  But, he also doesn't answer to any constituency and refuses, like Keith does, to delight in a "me man, you woman" world view . Cockburn (and people, it's pronounced CO-burn, so enough with the snickering) newest disc is You've Never Seen Everything and it continues a string of ambitious, poetic and imaginative discs that started with 1996's The Charity Of Night and continued with 2000's Breakfast In New Orleans Lunch In Timbuktu.  Cockburn is a beat poet first and foremost. His crisp dissertation on issues personal and political are visually stimulating as well as fascinating to listen to.  Further, the lad is an awesome guitarist who can rattle off a jagged, feedback driven wave of 32nd notes like they were 9 millimeter bullets. Then, with the next song he can break your heart with a glistening finger picked story of late night regrets.  Cockburn plays guitar like he's the bastard child of Robbie Robertson and Jimi Hendrix. He writes like Allen Ginsberg was Tony Soprano's cell mate when they were political prisoners in Guatemala, and if Ginsberg had a penchant for French cigarettes, Ayn Rand and Gretsch guitars.  That sort of explains Cockburn's serious-as-a-heart-attack approach to music.  He's neither a Molotov throwing anarchist nor a limousine liberal folkie; he's a world weary survivor of record company rip-offs and an incurable nihilist who thinks freedom - defined as social liberation from greed and corruption - is all that matters.  Sort of. OK.  Look...I'm wasting a lot of space trying to do what Cockburn does so well: turn desolate places, frightening times and complicated people into words, and I'm lousy at it. What you'll find on this brilliant new disc of his are songs that ring your inner alarms about apathy - both political and personal - and a hell of a lot of intriguing, clever music to bend back your ears.  Forget all the "adult rock" folderol you hear about Cockburn.  He's no flower-power hippie.  He's a plugged in, juiced up, well traveled, overly literate, French/Canadian version of Woody Guthrie. In my mind, Cockburn is as completely irreplaceable as Guthrie was. You've Never Seen Everything is among the very best of his 26 (!) albums. So there!

This one is a no-brainer.  I've yet to see a critic's list that doesn't include it.  I'm no exception. Warren Zevon's The Wind could be simply appear on best of lists as a lifetime achievement award, and that would be entirely appropriate.  Zevon was a woefully under appreciated genius and 75% of his brilliant, if uneven, song output was obscured by his disinterest in pandering to the public.  Yeah, even if the record wasn't the stunning docu-drama about life, death and struggle that it is, Zevon would have earned my vote right there. instead, The Wind is an album that only Zevon could have given us. Death has always been Zevon's sidekick even as far back as 1978's Excitable Boy, a perverse tale about a necrophiliac serial killer which featured Linda Ronstadt on backing vocals. He glamorized murderers, crooked cops, sleazebag lawyers, outlaw fetishists, bounty hunters, amoral rich kids, corrupt diplomats and trigger happy mercenaries with a smirk that seemed both lovable and creepy. The Wind is the product of a death sentence handed to him by an oncologist in 2002. He made the disc while chatting and joking his way around the talk show circuit with hosts who seemed awkwardly lost for words. This CD has all the humor (Disorder In The House is a prime example) we've come to expect, but his startling version of the stale open mike warhorse Knockin' On Heaven's Door now renders it's original political commentary irrelevant...forever it will be Zevon's unsentimental plea for an end to his pain and his withering body. But the most intense moment is the deeply moving Keep Me In Your Heart, where Zevon's fading voice waves to the gallery as he says his au revoir. Zevon isn't capable of being maudlin and sappy; even near death he had far too much backbone and too much cynicism to go Celine Dion on us. Don't buy The Wind because Zevon is gone and you feel guilty for ignoring him all these years. Get it because it's an album that only Zevon could do, and he did all of us an extraordinary favor by showing us how to approach the final days of this life with both savage humor and proud resignation. Warren, we hardly knew ye...

Johnny Cash could be on a list like this for the same reason as Zevon. They were both wild eyed madmen in their indulgent youth who sobered up in time to create some of their best music. Cash, having lost wife June last summer, could have passed quietly into the long good night, but like Zevon, he saw a traumatic event as his opportunity to make the ultimate artistic statement. I'd be lying if I said I loved Cash, or that I even owned much of his work. My love affair with country music ended some years ago, primarily because there is so much of it in Austin and most of it is awful dreck played ad nauseum by our local "adult rock" station and performed by sad sack hippie burnouts who haven't written a decent song in 20 years. I rarely even play my beloved Dwight Yoakum records anymore. But Buck Owens, Marty Robbins and Johnny Cash were like the mental backdrop of my childhood. Always there sparking interesting memories of the time I first became obsessed with music, but I had what I needed in my head, so I didn't really feel the need to buy it. Anyway, Cash kept recording with Rick Rubin (the same guy at the helm of Red Hot Chili Peppers!) after June passed away. Despite his obviously frail health, he had no trouble laying down tracks even a few days before he died. American IV: The Man Comes Around certainly won't be his final record, as we will soon get a taste of those post-June sessions, but it was the last one he'd overseen.  If you have seen the video of Hurt, you know all you need to about the album.  Johnny Cash was as no-bullshit as musicians get, and seeing him weak, pale and craggy faced while singing "everyone I've known goes away" is truly heartbreaking.  Cash understood "keepin' it real" long before anyone wanted to.  He refused to be a stooge for record companies and he stood tall and flipped the bird to the unforgiving Nashville musical assembly line; this was also long before the "rebel" persona became fashionable.  We are a much poorer society without Johnny Cash. He was country music's John Lennon and is every bit as important to art, music and pop culture as Lennon was. American IV: The Man Comes Around is just as critical listening as The Wind and they share the same emotional punch and musical clarity as they unmask their author's naked vulnerability after hope has been exhausted. If music as unvarnished insight into the human condition means anything to you, you'll get these two discs ASAP.

Thanks for bearing with my ramblings. In the end, my top ten is no more worthwhile than yours. But I'm hoping to convince you that there is some incredible music out there that you've missed. Until next year.....

Shalom alechiem -

Misha ben-David