Take Elbow, for example. They are currently one of my favorite bands. I’ve seen them live and will sing their praises to anyone who will listen. Their 2010 album, Build a Rocket Boys, is their 4th major release but I only became a fan via their 3rd album, The Seldom Seen Kid. They had 2 other albums, both excellent, that I never gave any credence until recently. It’s not as though Elbow radically changed their style between the 2nd and 3rd albums to something that I find more appealing. I like the earlier material, but it sailed perfectly under my radar until I was finally exposed to the band by fellow Tweedster Lloyd.

Another example is Super Furry Animals. (Another reco by my dear friend Lloyd.) The album that finally got my attention, Rings Around the World, was their 5th. They had half a decade of material before that album came out in 2001, including an album entirely in the Welsh language! Granted, I’ve been marginally disappointed by their output of late, but I absolutely love Rings and am always willing to give a new Super Furry Animals release a fair listen.

I have other examples from my own experience, but I’ll not belabor them here. You get the point. It’s important to remember that Elbow, and bands like them, are not Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin; bands whose primary output was decades ago and the only way to consider yourself a fan is to parse the back catalog. And they are not The Flaming Lips or Deftones; bands who really did significantly alter their musical style, or even managed to jump genres, and thus reached a wider audience. (Honestly, in my opinion, most Flaming Lips before The Soft Bulletin and Deftones before White Pony is not worthwhile.)

Am I the only one who finds this interesting? Is this bizarre phenomenon due to my personal taste, or is it just a matter of timing?

What say you, dear reader? Can you think of any artists who were well into their careers before you became a fan? And now, as a fan, have you checked out their earlier material and enjoyed it? Have you given any thought to how this artist managed to get by you for so long?

Nice rack.

Cowell, Simon — The X-Factor and former American Idol judge has broken off his engagement with makeup artist Mezhgan Hussainy, telling the UK’s Daily Mirror that it’s a “complicated relationship” and that Cowell doesn’t know if he’ll ever get married. It makes sense, folks. After all, why would Cowell need a wife when he can spend even more time casually rubbing his own spectacular man-boobs?

Link: Simon Cowell Breaks Off Engagement (Today)

Crew, 2 Live — A resurgence of notoriously filthy hip-hop artists 2 Live Crew is in the works according to Rolling Stone, which reports that the outfit will once again tour this coming summer. When asked about the reasons for the return after such a long absence from the spotlight, frontman Luther Campbell allegedly told reporters “Me so hungry.” (via Lloyd)

Link: 2 Live Crew to Reunite (Rolling Stone)

Cyrus, Miley – List of things which make Disney executives shudder for January 26, 2012: 1.) Miley Cyrus threw her boyfriend Liam Hemsworth a drunken bash at a Los Angeles club, 2.) Miley Cyrus surprised said boyfriend with a birthday cake shaped like a large penis, 3.) Miley Cyrus “pretended to lick” the penis. Well done, Miley. Your move, Selena Gomez — those are some big shoes to fill, and Miley’s setting the bar very high for you.

Link: Miley Cyrus Makes Lewd Tongue Gesture with Penis Birthday Cake (Socialite Life)

Gibson, Mel – After British actor Tom Hardy was tapped to play the beloved Mad Max in an upcoming remake of the 1979 apocalypse actioner, Hardy felt it was only right to get the blessing of former Mad Max — the actor who was launched on the role — Mel Gibson. Gibson told audience members at a recent screening of the original that when Hardy approached him, Gibson told the young actor to “Go ahead, knock yourself out. I’ve got better things to do.” Gibson then explained that those “better things” included scrawling anti-semitic epithets on bathroom walls, degrading Russian models throughout Beverly Hills and quietly crying into a bowl of vegemite as he waits for another script where he gets to play another “angry man who “takes the law in his own hands.”

Link: Mel Gibson on the Legacy of “Mad Max,” Meeting Tom Hardy for “Fury Road” and his Viking Epic “Berserker” (Moveable Feast)

Oscars, The — The hot-button story from Monday’s Academy Award announcements were who was surprisingly. Among the snubbed actors believed to score a nod and didn’t were Patton Oswalt, Charlize Theron, Michael Fassbender, Ryan Gosling and Albert Brooks. Upon hearing the news, Gosling consoled his Drive co-star Brooks by saying “Hey, listen, every cloud has a silver lining – after all, I’m still ridiculously handsome,” before noticing Brooks’ expression and quietly whispering. “Oh, sorry.”

Link: Oscar Nominations 2012: Surprises and Snubs (HuffPo)

Worthington, Sam — The Avatar star and current lead in the upcoming Man on a Ledge told press that the decision to put him high above New York City was one which troubled the acrophobic young heartthrob, saying ”I’m pretty lucky I didn’t burst into tears and roll into a ball” upon first being thrust out on the outskirts of NYC’s Roosevelt Hotel. Clearly the press is missing the bigger story here on Man on a Ledge and Worthington’s decision to take the role. Sam Worthington can’t read!

Link: Sam Worthington, Elizabeth Banks Hang Above New York City (HuffPo)

Seriously, this guy is prompt as hell.

Khalifa, Wiz – The weed-themed rapper arrived on time for his Sundance gig at Bing Bar, while his compatriots showed up later than expected and tried to sneak in while Wiz was on stage.  So the one guy who raps mostly about getting roasted is the one guy who shows up on time and does his full set.  Huh.

Link: Prompt Khalifa (NY Post)

Klum, Heidi – New rumors suggest that model Heidi Klum wants a divorce from singer Seal due to his hard-partying habit.  Yeah, we didn’t know the couple, but they seemed like pretty decent people.  Yet, like all these stories, we’ll soon forget about them.  In 20 years our memories of the “Klum-Seal split” will sound more like an automotive maintenance problem than a divorce.

Link: Another Divorce (Daily Mail)

Lohan, Lindsay – TMZ caught up with LiLo shopping while wearing a see-through shirt, perhaps showing a little more than she intended.  In other words, Lohan was shopping for clothes for her clothes.

Link: Lohan Shops (TMZ)

McConaughey, Matthew – The Dazed and Confused actor is bringing back his laid-back stoner character David Wooderson in a new video from Butch Walker and the Black Widows.  In other words, Matthew McConaughey will be playing Matthew McConaughey.

Link: Wooderson Returns (Celebrity Cafe)

Norris, Chuck – If the internet is to be believed, The Expendables 2 has been reworked and re-rated from R to PG-13 due to Norris’s objections to the script’s foul language.  Don’t worry, though: according to head honcho Sylvester Stallone, the film “is LARGE in every way and delivers on every level… this Barbeque of Grand scale Ass Bashing will not leave anyone hungry.”  You can now rest easy knowing your exploding limbs and bullet-riddled corpses and all of the expected blood-soaked violence will remain unsullied by objectionable language!

Link: Norris Bowlderizes (MTV)

Shatner, William – Shatner’s Priceline.com character will perish in the company’s upcoming ad, dishing out final advice for cost-conscious travelers.  It’s a good thing I read this on People.com first, with the headline “William Shatner Is About To Die (in an Ad).”  Huffington Post would have simply read “William Shatner Is About To Die!”

Link: Shatner Dying! (People)

The premise is simple: a group of adventurous young guys and girls attempt to conquer a giant obstacle course à la American Gladiators, with a few small changes: the obstacles are bigger, wetter, and there are inexplicably lots of bubbles. It’s like they’re trying to recreate an Ibiza foam party or something. The obstacles are, of course, extremely challenging, and no contestant seems to make it through without at least one knock-off into the giant sudsy pool below. Contestants advance through each round until there are just three left standing, who then compete for the $50,000 cash prize.

Now, don’t get me wrong; there are a lot of things I would do for $50,000. But being a contestant on Wipeout isn’t one of them. The reason is simple: to be a contestant, you have to be certifiably insane.

As proof, take a look at some of the contestants from the episode Ice, Ice Baby. You have Christian Debernardi, who came dressed as an Oscar statue in a skin-tight, gold lamé unitard. Michelle Assadi, self-described as a wannabe Kardashian who “likes to get sticky.” Carly Smith, who dresses as and demands to be called Wonder Woman. Sky Bartlett, who lives in a log cabin he built himself and plays the bones. The unnamed taxidermy enthusiast who wears a dead wolf on her head and brings a stuffed squirrel with her to the show. Abner Ramirez, a country music songwriter and the token “normal guy.” And, of course, Austin James, otherwise known as MC Cashmere Luxury, who looks like the bastard love child of John Oates.

The obstacles are ridiculous, the wipeouts are epic, and the show’s hosts, John Anderson and John Henson, pun and deadpan their way through 43 minutes of cringe-inducing, wince-worthy television. The “on the ground” talent is Vanessa Lachey, who manages to look both uncomfortable and self-loathing most of the time. But she puts on a brave face and keeps at least three feet between herself and the contestants, and really, who can blame her?

The winner of this particular episode is MC Cashmere Luxury and his amazing mustache. The fact that this man walked away with $50,000 while I’ll be paying student loans for the next twenty-five years makes me die a little on the inside.

Reality television gets dumber and dumber every year, with no end in sight and no hope for improvement. We are not that far away from Ow My Balls. I feel about reality television the way Wil Wheaton feels about the Kardashians. The only thing that keeps me from going all Walden Pond is the fact that good, smart, clever television is still being created: Parks & Rec, New Girl, Breaking Bad, Mad Men, Justified (yes, Justified!). Without those bright spots on the airwaves, I would lose all hope.

I think (I hope?) that at some point, we will reach the end of stupid reality TV. Someday we will start moving back toward thoughtful, intelligent programming. There has to be a point beyond which we will not venture, right? Right?

Link: Forget the Charts, Adele Tops Karaoke Too (NY Times)

Lennon, John — The pop culture website Mental Floss has shed new light on the former Beatle’s personality as a cat lover by compiling a list of all the cats known to have been owned by the singer during his lifetime, starting with a kitty named Elvis during his boyhood and ending with the three cats he had when he was killed. Not covered in the piece is the deep resentment he harbored that Yoko Ono was not a cat after her strained singing misled him into falling in love with her.

Link: John Lennon Was a Crazy Cat Lady (Mental Floss)

Seriously, look at those arms. Just look at them.

Madonna — Since winning a Golden Globe Sunday night for her music from the film W.E., pop diva Madonna has found herself involved in three fights: one with Ricky Gervais, firing back at him after his comedic barb at her from the podium, one with Elton John’s partner David Furnish, who took umbrage with her accolade, and one with Lady Gaga, after criticizing the singer’s “Born This Way” as being similar to her own “Express Yourself.” With all these beatdowns, it’s a good thing Madonna’s arms are so — wait, are they muscular? They have a weird shape, maybe some kind of bizarre toning and they’re kind of alien looking. Actually, I’m not sure if they’re strong or not. Never mind.

Link: Madonna Wins Golden Globe for “Masterpiece;” Fights Ricky Gervais, Elton John, David Furnish, Lady Gaga (HuffPo)

Richie, Lionel — Last week we featured an amalgam of President Obama singing “Born This Way,” as mashed together from his speeches, and loved it. This week it would seem that the genre is gaining even more of a foothold, as evidenced by this re-performing of Lionel Richie’s seminal “Hello” as created from film clips over the years. Enjoy.

Link: Lionel Richie’s “Hello,” in Film Clips (HuffPo)

Rowland, Kelly — The former Destiny’s Child ensembler recently praised former bandmate Beyonce’s parental skills, calling her a “natural mother” to baby Blue Ivy Carter, Beyonce’s offspring with superstar Jay-Z. Rowland then put her hand to her mouth and uttered, under her breath, “at least until she decides she doesn’t need the baby any more, and just leaves it high and dry with nowhere else to go but to star in Freddy Vs. Jason.”

Link: Beyonce is a Natural with Baby Blue Ivy Carter, Friends Say (People)

Tequila, Tila — It’s been some time since the very talented miss Tila Tequila graced the pages of the Entertation Index, but this is truly cause for celebration — the internet celebrity has announced that she’s converting to Judaism, telling TMZ that ”I just feel like the Jewish people have such a beautiful way about them, and I can’t wait to officially be Jewish! Shabbat Shalom.” It seemed like a natural fit; after all, she already smells like gefilta fish.

Link: Tila Tequila — I’m Turning Into a Jew!! (TMZ)

When I was a kid we traveled overseas a lot. We had a few of my mom’s old Motown records and some Disney read-along stuff. But records and turntables just can’t take the rigors of that lifestyle I guess. They’re heavy and delicate, and thus impractical.

Most of my listening was passive anyway; I didn’t really “discover” music until my tweens. Got myself a little portable player and some headphones and I was set. Thanks to the limited functionality (three buttons: PLAY, STOP, and FAST-FORWARD, oh yeah…) and a limited supply of AA batteries, I was more or less forced to listen to tapes start-to-finish. There wasn’t much jumping around from song to song. Even if I had favorites it was too much of a hassle to skip directly to them, so I learned to absorb music in whole-album format. It never occurred to me that the artist would have put any thought into song order or “side A” versus “side B.” I simply accepted the order out of expediency and got used to listening to my music that way. INXS’ Kick, Def Leppard’s Hysteria, start-to-finish every time.

In 1988 my parents bought our first CD player. It was actually a six-disc changer with a grossly impractical cartridge/magazine thing about the size of a double-CD case. Despite the cumbersome nature of loading discs (upside-down I might add; don’t ask me how long it took me to figure that out), it felt suddenly very powerful to skip entire songs with the mere press of a button. CDs completely changed my approach. When listening to a new record, my patience and attention-span became short. If I didn’t immediately like a track, I skipped it. My god, such power! Merciless was my index finger! Almost overnight, the albums I acquired became mixed affairs of favorite songs surrounded by nameless filler that I would only bother listening to if I was too lazy to reach the SKIP button.

Oh sure, a few albums merited the approach of old, and I even dallied with the “Random” button on occasion (another heretofore unheard-of and wholly magical feature). But I no longer cared for the artist’s idea of album “flow” or any other such conceits. After getting burned a few times spending my hard-earned, minimum-wage dollars on a whole CD for two maybe three decent songs (yeah, The Breeders, I’m looking at YOU!) I started to get pickier in my buying habits. I actually cared for maybe a third of the material that filled my CD rack. Mix-tapes featured the best material and the CDs themselves rarely saw any action.

At first, the advent of MP3 set me further down this cynical, obtuse spiral. I would borrow friends’ CDs and rip only the songs I liked and damn the rest!  When I was short on cash, I just ripped the favorite tracks to MP3 off a few CDs and sold the discs down at the local used-CD shop. There were still artists (Tool, Radiohead, etc.) to whom I would give the benefit of the doubt, but I’d say fully half of all my music consumption consisted of singles and novelty tracks. Interestingly, this opened me up to artists and genres I had ignored for decades. It suddenly became possible (and acceptable) to listen to songs by ubiquitous pop artists without having to bear the shame of actually owning their CD.

These days, Amazon and eMusic are great resources for good old-fashioned MP3s in all their lossy yet DRM-free glory. Those sellers and Apple’s iTunes store make individual songs available for pennies. Top-40 singles sell bazillions of copies, but whole albums are purchased less often. (Do the Black Eyed Peas even release albums anymore? I honestly have no idea.) Magazine after pundit after blogger have asked the quasi-rhetorical (and in my opinion obnoxious) question “is the album dead?” Of course the answer is “No, stupid.” But it is easier than ever to live the music life I lived for most of the late-90s and early-2000s, consuming music piecemeal with blithe disregard for the artist’s efforts at albumcraft.

And yet…

I choose to listen to whole albums again more often. I am unable to pick a favorite song from Deftones’ 2010 masterpiece Diamond Eyes, or Gojira’s The Way of All Flesh, or The Sword’s Warp Riders. I listen to all three parts of Robyn‘s Body Talk without skipping a single track. Every Vandaveer record … Memory Tapes … Elbow … The Black Keys … The Bird and the Bee. More often than not, I start these albums at the beginning and just let them play. I’ve moved from a passive, utilitarian listening experience, through a vicious tornado of fastidiousness, and on to a Zen-like acceptance.

What’s changed? Has good music gotten better? Are albums just all-killer-no-filler these days?

Or is it me? Perhaps I’m reacting to the capricious nature of youth and … well, smelling the goddamn proverbial roses. Is this what they call “personal growth?” (And not the kind that you need to get looked at by a doctor?) Maybe, in my old age, I’m more inclined to give an artist a fair shake, to take what they give me, to accept and consume it as a whole, and I’m simply being rewarded with better quality entertainment for my earholes.

Of course, it’s also entirely possible that I’m simply too lazy to reach for the SKIP button.

Link: Apatow Speaks (Mercury News)

And yet, somehow, these nominees shit themselves less than Charlie Sheen does.

Awards, Golden Collar – Dog News Daily (yes, there is such a thing) is holding the Golden Collar Awards (yes, there is such a thing) to award five Golden Collars: Best Dog in A Theatrical Film, Best Dog in A Foreign Film, Best Dog in A Direct-to-DVD Film, Best Dog in a Reality Television Series, and Best Dog in a Television Series.  The ceremony will be hosted by canine actor Uggie and human actress Penelope Ann Miller.  There are so many jokes here that I don’t know where to start, but it seems that the biggest joke is on Penelope Ann Miller.

Link: Actress To Host Dog Award Show (Dog News Daily)

Globes, Golden – Organizers for the TV and film awards show are worried about how they’ll seat all those who say they’re attending, since so many nominees were large ensembles (Boardwalk Empire, Modern Family, etc.).  To thin the crowd, planners are considering telling attendees that James Franco will be hosting.

Link: Globe Seating in Short Supply (NY Mag)

Kardashian, Kim – A group called the Courage Campaign indicates that reality TV person Kardashian “earned” over $12 million in 2010, but was taxed at a rate just 1% higher than a middle-class Californian.  It is only fair that she pay more in taxes, given how taxing her presence has been for the rest of America.

Link: KiKi’s Taxes (Time)

William, Prince – The Duke of Cambridge has reportedly given his wife, Kate Middleton, a black Labrador puppy for her 30^th birthday.  It is rumored that Middleton is considering a pair of sweater puppies as a return gift.

Link: Royal Gifts (Mirror)

Work It – ABC canceled its widely panned cross-dressing situation “comedy” Work It after just two episodes.  Before you celebrate, please realize that Two and a Half Men is still on.

Link: Crappy Show Canceled (USA Today)

30 Rock at 8:00 p.m. — A welcome return for the cleverly written award winner. The newsworthy twist is the veiled introduction of a new love interest for Liz Lemon, which could be promising. But overall I found this episode to be a mostly low-key affair, with Jack Donaghy showing a growing paternal softness, Tracy Jordan still flailing (they don’t seem to know what to do with him these days), and the secondary characters still playing their one notes for all they’re worth. The “Kenneth waiting for the rapture” jokes fell a bit flat. Still, when this show finds jokes that hit, they hit hard. America’s Kidz Got Singing was a sharp and hilarious send-up of, you know, everything that’s wrong with TV these days. And only 30 Rock could lampoon the WNBA, by characterizing their halftime entertainment as a ragtag dance team of retirees and middle-agers of questionable physical fitness, and find the right sweet spot between good-natured and mean-spirited parody.

Parks and Recreation at 8:30 p.m. — Parks continues to kill it with startling consistency, week after week after week. I’ve written before about several elements that establish this show as clearly one of the very best we have, including its depth of characterizations and its powerful but unobtrusive promotion of the virtues of civic engagement. Here I’ll just point out the richness of the show’s universe—the fictional town of Pawnee continues to grow as a character all its own. [By the way, if you’re a fan of this show, the tie-in book Pawnee: The Greatest Town in America is well worth your time.] Also, I must point out the inspired visual imagery of the Leslie’s campaign rally scene. The scene, in which Leslie and the gang must walk gingerly across an ice rink because their red carpet has run out, perfectly represents Leslie’s loss of the political establishment’s backing (the red carpet) and the new, improvised, amateurish approach (walking on thin ice) to which she must resort for the rest of the campaign. Best of all, this conceptually stellar scene is executed brilliantly, with excellent physical and visual comedy that rivals the genre-defining lunacy of a Buster Keaton or a Charlie Chaplin. I can say this about only one or two other television shows still producing new episodes—Parks and Recreation is a source of actual joy in my life. Not mild amusement or middling entertainment, a la Modern Family or, dare I say, Community (sacred cow alert), but honest to God joy. I love this show with all my heart.

The Office at 9:00 p.m. — Everything we’ve written about The Office continues to hold mostly true. The show lacks a center and, at best, is treading water.  The bar trivia setting offered a few nice moments. The jokes at the expense of Kevin (he’s stupid) and Oscar (he can be an overbearing intellectual windbag) were predictable but amusing. I’m sure I’ll continue to watch the show, probably until it ends, but I’m wishing more and more that they’d pull a Lost or a Breaking Bad, announce an end date well in advance (Spring 2013, perhaps?), and start pushing toward an endgame and a worthwhile, reputation-redeeming conclusion. Barring that, the show needs a radical overhaul, but I just don’t think the creative team and commercial entities involved have the wherewithal to make that happen.

Up All Night at 9:30 p.m. — This is a fine show with a great cast and solid writing. I feel like Up All Night took a few episodes to find itself, but its depth and distinctive voice have become dependable. I hope it finds a foothold and has a nice long run, as the TV universe is better when Will Arnett, Christina Applegate, Maya Rudolph, and Jason Lee have a solid platform from which to display their talents. My wife and I were dying during the scene in which Chris (Arnett) and Reagan (Applegate) were listing each other’s glaring faults on a whiteboard and “banning” those behaviors from appearing during the new year. This show is reliably funny stuff.

The Firm at 10:00 p.m. — Man, that scene where the heroic white lawyer teaches us all an important lesson about racism was awesome and…just kidding. There’s no way I’m going to watch this bunk. I’m sure there was a scene or a theme similar to that, though, given that this thing has John Grisham roots, and I’m sure it was offensively shallow. The only other thing I have to say is that it’s clear why NBC is mired in the ratings basement, if adding new chapters to a 20-year-old legal thriller mediocrity is the Peacock Network’s best effort at a “fresh new idea.” The only thing more unnecessary than a 2012 TV version of The Firm would be a real-life version of America’s Kidz Got Singing.

While we’ve had several features about 2011′s musical output, I feel that I should throw one more salvo of praise at what turned out to be a fine year for tunes.

At the close of 2010, I all but pronounced the album as a dead entity, at least within my own world. I also devoted far too much energy describing the disappointments – while entertaining, that box of I’m Against This has a rapidly-approaching expiration date. Besides, there was far too much to love in 2011 to throw any pixels at anything else.

So in my final column for a few months (I’m now involved in an effort that drastically reduced my ability to consume culture), here’s a laudatory etude to the musicians that made 2011 great – definitely the best since two years ago.

Unlike 2010, where most of my favorite moments were isolated to a single track by a litany of artists, I returned to high-school style back-catalogue archaeology. Here are five artists that made such efforts such a rewarding experience:

5. The Weeknd. There are two fertile eras of R&B in my existence. 1986-1988 was all about uptempo speaker-shakers that crammed Latin Freestyle, rap and proto-New Jack Swing into audio caffeine. In contrast, the 1580-AM beginnings of Lexington’s “The Beat” in 1996 brought tunes so slow that a healthy heartbeat at 60 bpm sounded like a Electric Daisy Carnival battle between Venetian Snares and Aphex Twin. In 2011, Abel Tesfaye and a couple of his Canuck co-horts went all Robert Pollard on us, dropping three full-length records. Of the troika, House of Balloons was the slow-jammiest, and thus, perfect for a year loaded with great chillier music like Neon Indian, Toro Y Moi and Bon Iver. “What You Need” and “Coming Down” would have fit perfectly between 112′s “Cupid” and Rome’s “I Belong to You” on The Beat’s playlist (before their unfortunate acquisition by an aspiring monopolist radio conglomerate). “House of Balloons/Glass Tables” (edited, of course) was one of Radio K’s happiest moments of randomness, as the second chorus stutters do-o-oown to a request to “bring the ’707′ out”, which I’ll just assume is not a reference to defunct product by the Roland electronics corporation. While a web-wide world of music critics cited “Vomit” by Girls – a fine song from a stellar record – as the closest our annum got to Dark Side of The Moon-style psychedelia, The Weeknd’s “The Morning” gave us David Gilmour-style guitar theatrics, sharp synths from the Richard Wright school of ambent leads, production reminiscent of Bob Ezrin, all summed up with a chorus about – what else – Money. I think we have our “best Pink Floyd song in 2011″ award. Don’t tell me there’s no hope at all!

4. tUnE-yArDs. w h o k i l l  is that cold, refreshing glass of water the morning after too many Pilsners (the IPA – soo 2010). With “My Country”, Merrill Garbus wrote the perfect anthem for Occupy Wall Street (other efforts are appreciated, but we have a winner). “Powa” ends with a chorus of euphoria not heard since the ending for “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, and “Gangsta” challenges our sense of continuity within the 4-minute song like nothing outside of “You Made Me Realize”. And that siren-song introduction! If that doesn’t bring a smile to your visage, we’re no longer friends.

In a live show at the quite-intimate Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis, the full ensemble – including rowdy performances by the saxophonist and bass player – gave enough plate-tectonic force to “Bizness” to reunite Pangaea. I’m not sure how she tops this, but I can’t wait to see her try.

3. Little Dragon. My discovery of this ensemble of Swedes was reminiscent of a 1980s-vintage Todd, in that I read an article about them in Rolling Stone where they were mentioned in the same breath as James Blake and The Weeknd. Naturally, I had to see what was the story. In an era of Pitchforks and Stereogums, and random British mp3 blogs written by ASBO chavs and Grebos alike, it is quite a surprise to miss something until it reaches the lengthy lead-time of print media, but comforting to know that such distribution models for information are not as antiquated as I once thought. Ritual Union tantalized with Donald Fagen-meets-PBS swagger of “Shuffle a Dream”, but it was their contribution to David Sitek’s Maximum Balloon project that made me wonder if the totality of our life experiences prepare us to fall in love with one musical act specifically. “If You Return” was the sound of my youth, a simulacrum of Southern Cali summer nights, which oddly prepared me for my Minnesota winter political volunteer opportunities. Then I heard 2009′s Machine Dreams, which is start-to-finish awesome. “Runabout” is a blistering dance-pop Voltron of Pretty Poison, Nu Shooz, Whodini, the Jets, and “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”-style Whitney Houston (sorry, Yeasayer, but Little Dragon got there first) ; “Looking Glass” is futuristic and Balearic enough to top Mediterranean charts in 2013; and the wintry, shoegazers-meet-1996 R&B groove of “Feather” – at least during this very moment – would have easily been my favorite song of 2009, had I knew it existed.

2. Cut Copy. These Aussies closed out 2010 by offering “Take Me Over” before releasing Zonoscope. After the icy pop of “Hanging on to Every Heartbeat”, and the party-starting anthemic chorus of “Need You Now”, I was ready to explore the rest of their catalog. Luckily, I already owned In Ghost Colours, but had yet to check it out. Wow – “Out there on the Ice” and “Lights and Music” were perfect manifestations of Deep House in pop form (electronic Techno geeks –feel free to correct me here); “Far Away” is what David Byrne would sound like it he drifted towards IDM, and “Hearts on Fire” – one of the tracks selected for the Pitchfork 500 – is maybe the 7^th-most significant reason to own this record. Retreat a few years back to Bright Like Neon Love, and appropriately 2011-titled “Twilight”, for a wildly-out of nowhere slow-burn rock track that would have fit the soundtrack for The Social Network.  It all culminated amidst the lights and music of their live performance at First Avenue in early Spring. Definitely get to a live show of Cut Copy if you get the chance.

1. James Blake. When asked what I loved in 2011, people still think I’m referring to the tennis phenom when I throw around this Brit’s name. “CMYK” grabbed me quickly, but the comedown of the rest of that EP really makes that song shine. I can’t pour an icy beverage without the ice-vs-glass rattle not reminding me of the transition from “Footnotes” to “I’ll Stay”. The full-length grew on me – eventually I heard the greatness in “Unluck”, “Limit to Your Love”, and “Wilhelm’s Scream”. However, it wasn’t until I heard the other EP-based tracks did I really appreciate what this dude can create. “Air and Lack Thereof” falls into that 2011 s l o w, but with enough subtle sound-effects to grab the attention of Trevor Horn, without going Full 90125 (my 5-year old nephew loves it). The latest EPs, Enough Thunder and Love What Happened Here, both feature beautiful pieces of music that defy categorization, although I’d definitely place both “Once We All Agree” and “Love What Happened Here” in the genre of Songs That Sound Better Without Radio6 DJs Chatting Over Them (you should find that section in record stores between the Gospel and the Comedy).  Although technically, Love What Happened Here should be on a 2012 list, I’ll fast-forward for the sake of inclusion.

“Fall Creek Boys Choir” deserves a deeper examination. If it wsn’t for Bon Iver, I would not have been open to hearing James Blake. “Wolves I and II” from For Emma, Wherever Ago was the first venture into the understated forms of vocal manipulation that I now find awesome (think Roger and Zapp as the other extreme, and Kanye West/Justin Vernon “Lost in the World” as the Goldilocks), it was the best TV on the Radio song they never wrote, and it only made perfect sense that he and Blake would collaborate.  Despite the Hipster Runoff-curated lambasting, I knew I wasn’t alone in my fandom of this tune. A discussion with fellow Tweedster Lloyd let me know, like Ed Norton in Fight Club, I was not alone (take it away, Lloyd):

Fall Creek Boys Choir” might well be the highest pop music achievement of 2011. First, it was polarizing as hell, which meant that it gave thousands of Internet comment-section enthusiasts the chance to dig a deep opinion trench (“It’s genius!!” “It’s crap!!”) and lob ALL-CAPS grenades at the other “side.” Second, the song is pure gibberish, both lyrically and, in some ways, musically. In a year when the real meaning of so much language-based communication was revealed only by grasping power dynamics and ideological agendas–when George Orwell’s 1946 essay “Politics and the English Language” attained a still-higher level of oracular wisdom–comprehensible language was most often something to distrust. Blake and Vernon took a neat sidestep by garbling both their words and sounds, allowing trustworthy, honest, emotionally direct communication with the listener. Finally, the song is purely impure pastiche and a nice nod to the “collage culture” that was discussed here at TBTS a few days ago. If there is nothing new under the sun, why not jumble 70s soul, cheesy 80s Phil Collins drums, and Blake’s and Vernon’s individual dubstep and indie-folk sensibilities into a rather ridiculous 4-minute mess? Combined in new ways in “Fall Creek Boys Choir,” 2011′s finest act of creative pop destruction, that slew of completely borrowed approaches and moments ends up sounding like nothing that has come before.  

While Bon Iver’s record was essential, as were about 20 others, this was an Artist Catalogue year, and 2011 belonged to James Blake.

I’ll be back sometime in April, hopefully not in a snow-covered climate (see Prince’s Parade for details). In the words of noted music-critic/ author Ronald Thomas Clontle, “Keep rocking!”