Aaron Shipp Tells The Year in Music to "Fuck Off"

For The Heavy Duty's "Breast of 2011," Matt and Dev are inviting a few friends to share their thoughts on the year's best music.


By Aaron Shipp

I'm going to get two things out of the way, right off the bat. (1) I had a shit year and (2) because I had a shit year, most of what I listened to in 2011 reflects a mood that one who is experiencing such a time might carry. I'll spare you all the elaborate elucidation in regard to why my year can best be defined by a common term for feces. Its commonality, its overall lack of exception, is partly why it was so shitty. So there's no need for me to try and spruce up, for your entertainment, a disinterestingly shitty year. I'll focus instead on my favorite albums of the year and why they, not necessarily bested anything else out there but, served an integral purpose in my surviving 2011.
I'm over thirty years old which means my spare time is spent thinking about how awesome I used to be, and how those younger than me are finally cool, not babbling idiots. The ability to connect with new music has weakened somewhat as contemporary acts either sound like a lesser version of something I grew up with or simply connect to their fan base in ways I find juvenile. Imagine my comfort when a friend turned me on to Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats. Who needs a Kyuss reunion (sort of)?  Blood Lust is stoner rock straight from the desert that soothes my elderly musical stylings while laying down that edgy dark undertone that incites youthful rebellion. Go on, Deadbeats.  Toss poppa some sugar.
On Earth 2, I live in Germany and long ago achieved my dream of being a successful entrepreneur.  My chain of theme restaurants, all centered around the works of beloved playwright Dikembe Mutombo, are as well known as our McDonalds. Bohren & der Club of Gore’s Beileid plays softly on repeat through the house speakers in every one of these eateries. Bohren did more with three songs than most bands do with entire careers. You need know nothing more of this band than the 35 minutes of this album. It's rare when a band knows themselves so well and are unafraid to sit in their own skin for three sauntering and breathy songs.  

Mastodon followed up the heady and ambitious Crack the Skye with the only album they could: a give-no-shits compilation of pedestrian (by their standards) riffage with lyrics that are somehow nuttier than those found on an album called Blood Mountain. It's a really fun album once you realize where the band is coming from and allow yourself to, essentially, enjoy the slides from Mastodon's existential vacation. People will forever refer to The Hunter by Mastodon as a step back but it's so totally not (ohmygod, right?). The Hunter is Mastodon refined, boiled down to their sweetest sugars and dipped around a licorice whip.  

Protest the Hero seemed to suffer the opposite criticism as Mastodon with Scurrilous.  Suddenly talkin' 'bout chicks and cancer was too somber for Protest the Hero. I, on the other hand, had been hoping for a more realistic approach from this band for some time and they fucking delivered.  It's one thing to sing about goddesses and do so creatively. That's great.  It's another thing to talk about some real shit and do so with a razor sharp disdain. The difference between layin' down a bitch and dropping some knowledge is whether or not you can, well, protest something intelligently. A band this talented, when calling you a perv for watching internet porn, suddenly makes you consider your station. I like that.   
Russian Circles put out a new album and it’s great. It's more fantastic music from Russian Circles.  Here’s the thing though: while listening to it on Spotify, I was recommended a band called Long Distance Calling.  That band has swept through my (and my friends’) playlists like a flammable Santa Anna gust. Both of their albums, which pre-date 2011, have been on steady rotation and would be nominated for band of the year in a discussion forsaking actual measurements of time.  Since that’s not the case here, Russian Circles - Empros gets a nod for their album introducing me to, possibly, my favorite find of 2011.
While we’re on the subject of metal and its only tolerable sub-genre anymore, I once again profess my undying appreciation. Whatever we're calling it now, I hope it doesn't go anywhere. I need, NEED DAMN YOU, the release that comes from metal but cannot bring myself to listen to any more trite, pseudo-violent lovesick drivel. Come at me with either the most nonsensical wizardry or a soundtrack to real regret.  Enough with the misogyny.  It's been a golden age for metal over the last ten years if you've known where to look.  Mouth of the Architect, The Ocean, Giant Squid, I could go on but it would only serve to dilute my point, which is this: The Atlas Moth’s An Ache for the Distance is another example of true orchestration within a genre that isn't universally known for measured, thoughtful production.  Give it a listen and put the Whitechapel to rest.

Much like Klaxons last year, Wild Poppies by The Mast served as a pleasant default whenever nothing new piqued my interest. I can’t discern for you a unique or special trait within the album that demands your attention. It’s not an exceptional album. It is, however, consistent and pleasant.  The Mast provide a chill, female shoegazer option when I desperately needed to get LMFAO’s “Sexy and I Know It” out of my head. (And damn each one of you monsters that popularized that song, that permeated every aspect of my life with cries of “I work out!”.  You grisly detriments of the human experience have conceived more woe than a baker’s dozen of surprisingly stale donuts.)
All in all, 2011 was a bust for music. If you’re keeping track, I’ve only named seven albums that I felt were worthwhile.  Fucked Up, Kurt Vile, SUBTRKT were all fine I guess but nothing more than mediocre. Hell, even Radiohead could only muster an average album this year. We should’ve known, after “Morning Mr Magpie” started, that standards needed immediate reduction.
Aaron Shipp is a writer living in Omaha. Catch up on his various projects at shipp.wordpress.com and follow him on Twitter @aaronlshipp.