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[jimmygeurts]

BEST RECORDS OF 2017

Bed Wettin’ Bad Boys, Rot 

Many modern bands have attempted with varying success to recall the drunken, messy yet also expertly crafted music of the Replacements. However, it’s lesser-known Australian group Bed Wettin’ Bad Boys that has arguably come the closet with their 2013 LP Ready for Boredom and this follow-up. Certainly their band name is the sort of bad joke you can imagine the Replacements might’ve approved of, but hidden behind that and their shambolic sound is some great songwriting. The album’s standout “Plastic Tears,” with its infectious melody and barbed lyrics (“It’s not that I think you’re weak/just not buying the tears you weep”) is the sort of track that you can imagine Paul Westerberg approving of.

Kendrick Lamar, DAMN.

At first glance, DAMN. might seem more straightforward than Kendrick Lamar’s previous opuses To Pimp a Butterfly or good kid, m.A.A.d city, from its more radio-friendly singles “Humble” and “Loyalty” to its shorter running length. But that’s quickly dispelled by the record, as Lamar contends with topics including those previous albums, the success he’s gained from them, the worry that fame affects how those around him act, and his newfound status as the kind of cultural icon that gets invited to the White House. And despite the constant self-reflection, the album pulsates with the confidence with a great artist who’s completely in control. “Last LP I tried to lift the black artists/but it’s a difference between black artists and wack artists,” Lamar raps on “Element,” raising the bar for his contemporaries that follow in his path.

Julien Baker, Turn Out the Lights

Julien Baker came to prominence with her 2015 album Sprained Ankle, with her striking lyrics sung largely over sparse guitar. For her follow-up and Matador Records debut Turn Out the Lights, she’s backed by more instrumentation, with the piano, strings and clarinet of opener “Over” serving as a sort of overture for the album. But her stark songwriting remains, as she discusses recovery and depression, the strain it can cause in relationships and ultimately some hard-earned hope of getting to a better place. “Hurt Less” shows a growth for Baker both in its instrumental arrangement and its lyrics about deciding to start wearing a seat belt — “I didn’t see the point in trying to save myself from an accident,” she says at first (Sprained Ankle opened with such a car crash on “Blacktop”) — to be there for someone else.

Lorde, Melodrama

What stands out about Lorde’s songwriting on her sophomore album “Melodrama” is her ability to write simultaneously with a cinematic expansiveness fitting the record’s name and an intimate specificity. Written by the 21-year-old New Zealander following the end of a longtime relationship, the album chronicles young romance from the drunken, dancing ecstasy of initial infatuation (“Sober,” “Homemade Dynamite,” “The Louvre”) to the aching pain of finding yourself alone (“Liability,” “Supercut.”) She even switches through multiple phases on “Hard Feelings/Loveless,” which starts as a breakup song with the stinging opening “Please could you be tender and I will sit close to you/let’s give it a minute before we admit that we’re through” before taking a bitter triumph in a relationship’s end.

Mount Eerie, A Crow Looked at Me

Phil Elverum wrote his latest album as Mount Eerie after and about the death of his wife Geneviève Castrée, a musician and illustrator who passed away at 35 years old from pancreatic cancer shortly after the birth of their child. It chronicles the aftermath in details like throwing away her bathroom basket’s trash or finding a present from her that only makes her absence more deeply felt, with “death is real” a repeated refrain on the record. Elverum isn’t seeking some grand closure — “I don’t want to learn anything from this,” he sings on opening track “Real Death” — so much as there’s nothing else to think about but her. And with the instrumentation often just consisting of acoustic guitar, A Crow Looked at Me makes listeners confront these thoughts and memories head-on too.

Phoebe Bridgers, Stranger in the Alps

One of the musical highlights of 2017 for me was stumbling upon Phoebe Bridgers’ music at the start of the year and watching her play a tiny nook of a park in March, then slowly watching others find her too. The singer-songwriter’s debut full-length features songs from her earlier releases, including a string-laden version of “Georgia” and a rendition with piano and vocals from X’s John Doe of “Killer” from her 2015 seven-inch. New tracks include the stinging “Funeral,” about the death of her friend, and “Scott Street,” which recounts running into an ex on the street. But what all the songs share in common are both a sharp wit and ear for references and a straightforward emotion exemplified by the line “Jesus Christ, I’m so blue all the time/and that’s just how I feel/I always have and I always will.”

Slowdive, Slowdive

Like fellow shoegaze pioneers My Bloody Valentine’s comeback album mbv, Slowdive’s self-titled reunion record is remarkable for two reasons — first, that it even happened, and second, that it’s as good as it is. The British band’s first album since their 1995 record Pygmalion holds its own with that and 1993’s brilliant Souvlaki, and is arguably the best of the three. The opening track “Slomo” is certainly one of the best songs they’ve ever written, with a woozy sound that indeed makes you want to sway in slow motion to dreamy vocals that recall Cocteau Twins. The other seven songs are great as well, from the shoegaze rock of “Star Roving” to the slow burn of the eight-minute, piano-driven closer “Falling Ashes.”

SZA, CTRL

What stands out in R&B singer SZA’s debut full-length CTRL is how it balances confidence and vulnerability in equal measure. That’s apparent from opening track “Supermodel,” where she sticks it to a cheating ex by revealing she slept with his friend while still wondering “why I am so easy to forget like that?” and telling him “I could be your supermodel/if you believe/if you see it in me.” And that continues throughout the album on songs like “The Weekend,” where she sings with simultaneous satisfaction and yearning for more from the perspective of a woman on the side. Perhaps the greatest compliment I can give the album is that it’s so strong throughout, multiple times after listening to it I’ve come away with a new favorite song on it, from “Supermodel” to “Prom” to “Broken Clocks.”

Vince Staples, Big Fish Theory 

“Big Fish Theory is electronic album of the year,” Vince Staples declared in a tweet, and he has a case to make. For the follow-up to his acclaimed 2015 debut full-length Summertime ’06, the Long Beach rapper recruited electronic musicians such as SOPHIE, Flume and GTA, as well as chief producer Zach Sekoff, to give the album a house-inspired sound. Meanwhile, Staples provides his trademark sharp wit and braggadocio, as well as flashes of vulnerability evident on the Amy Winehouse-sampling track “Alyssa Interlude.” The result is frequently invigorating, like on “Yeah Right,” which has Staples and a strong verse from Kendrick Lamar over a booming-bass beat by SOPHIE and Flume.

Honorable mentions: Alvvays, Antisocialites; Girlpool, Powerplant; Jay Som, Everybody Works; Kelela, Take Me Apart; Makthaverskan, III; Rainer Maria, Rainer Maria; Tyler the Creator, Flower Boy; Vagabon, Infinite Worlds; Waxahatchee, Out in the Storm

[jimmygeurts]

BEST MOVIES OF 2016

Aquarius 

We ascribe a lot of meaning into the personal possessions we collect and the places we live over the years. That seems like it might be a tough concept to convey in a cinematically compelling way, but director Kleber Mendonca Filho pulls it off with his latest movie. While his previous film Neighboring Sounds took a broader view of a Brazilian neighborhood, Aquarius focuses on a single woman and her longtime apartment, creating a 145-minute epic and political parable out of it. And it features the performance of a lifetime for actress Sonia Braga as that woman Clara.

Arrival

For reasons that are easy enough to understand if you’re familiar with both films’ plots, Interstellar is the Christopher Nolan film most people associate with Arrival. But really it’s closer to Memento in that both are ingeniously structured films built to surprise and pack an emotional wallop in its ending. It’s guided by everything from maybe Amy Adams’ best turn to Denis Villeneuve’s assured direction to its capable production design and score. And it, along with the upcoming Blade Runner 2049 and Dune remake, suggest Villeneuve may be our next great science-fiction filmmaker. We’ve come a long way from the dopey giant spider of Enemy. 

Green Room

As a lover of both punk music and genre films, Green Room is a brilliant combination of both. It gets punks better than nearly any other movie — how they’re less likely to be spiky-haired Sid Vicious types than relatively mild-mannered folks (including Imogen Poots, Alia Shawkat and the late, great Anton Yelchin) concerned about charging their phones, finding gas for the car and getting to the next terrible gig. Then it takes the worst possible one in an isolated neo-Nazi venue and devises an expertly claustrophobic scenario out of it. In a banner year for close-quarters thrillers (see also: Don’t Breathe, 10 Cloverfield Lane, Hush), this one stands tall. 

The Handmaiden 

Speaking of expertly crafted genre films, there’s the latest and greatest from Oldboy director Park Chan-Wook. Reimagining Patricia Highsmith’s Victorian-era novel Fingersmith, The Handmaiden lets the filmmaker play with a formal dress period setting and formal chops anyone could appreciate. But there’s also the lurid details of his previous work, including explicit lesbian sex scenes, sadistic behavior and some unsavory actions involving a wooden puppet and bells. The result is the kind of combination of high art and the low-minded that we don’t usually get on screen outside of Brian De Palma and Paul Verhoeven.

Manchester by the Sea 

Manchester by the Sea is a portrait of death and grief that’s so devastating at times it can feel nearly unbearable. It’s also one of the funniest films of the year, in ways that often directly connect to the former. It’s about the ways the world can be so cosmically cruel you can’t do anything but laugh bitterly; your dead brother is in a freezer, you have a huge new responsibility to take on when you’re a wreck, the goddamn stretcher won’t even fit into the ambulance. That’s an incredibly tough emotional high-wire act to pull off, but thankfully this has the singular talent of Kenneth Lonergan behind it, as well as unforgettable performances by Casey Affleck and Michelle Williams.

Moonlight 

When I called Carol the best American Wong Kar-Wai film last year, perhaps I spoke too soon. The gorgeous third act of Barry Jenkins’ sophomore feature Moonlight, along with Carol and the Lily Gladstone/Kristen Stewart segment of Certain Women, seems to suggest that diner scenes are the best cinematic settings for romantic longing. Yet Moonlight also has much to say about race, sexuality, family, even Florida. Its ability to successfully span all of this subject matter over three different time periods makes it one of the most skillful cinematic feats of the year.

O.J.: Made in America

Not only did we get two films about Sarasota newscaster Christine Chubbuck this year, we got two sprawling epics about O.J. Simpson. One could quibble about whether O.J.: Made in America should be considered television or cinema — it was primarily viewed as a five-part event on ESPN, to be fair — but I’d argue it’s a film whose eight-hour running length gives it a scope few documentaries can compete with. In Simpson’s history, it encompasses race, gender, fame, the judicial system and more. By the time it gets to its truly pathetic final hour, it convincingly makes the case his life story is one of America’s greatest tragedies.

Paterson

In a year where “the working-class” and “the elite” were endlessly, needlessly pitted against each other, this lovely story of a bus driver who also writes poetry begs the question why. It’s also gently, nonchalantly inclusive in its diverse cast of characters in a way that feels like a salve in these turbulent times. It’s gripping even as its plot revolves around a normal guy’s work week and a dramatic climax that hinges on a misbehaving dog. Jim Jarmusch has long been one of our best filmmakers; this and Only Lovers Left Alive suggest he may be getting even better with time.

Toni Erdmann 

A prankster dad who sports fake dentures, a wig and an obviously false alias to get closer to his workaholic daughter has all the trappings of an obnoxiously broad comedy. Yet in the capable hands of Everyone Else’s Maren Ade, it becomes one of the best, most idiosyncratic films of the year. It’s a showcase for some wonderfully absurdist comedic set pieces (naked party! “The Greatest Love of All”!), a cutting corporate satire and a genuinely touching family drama. Hiring Jack Nicholson and Kristen Wiig for the American remake isn’t a bad start, but it has its work set out to achieve something this singular.

The Witch

The Witch hasn’t made a huge number of end-of-year list appearances, perhaps because it’s been one year since its theatrical release and two years since its Sundance premiere, perhaps because of the seemingly growing backlash against “indie horror.” No matter: it’s one of the best films of 2016, indie, horror or otherwise. The most memorable moments may come in the unnerving final act, as things truly get hellish. Yet arguably even more impressive is how compelling its slow-burn build is, aided by debut filmmaker Robert Eggers’ assured direction and the convincing Puritan period details.

Honorable mentions: 20th Century Women, Cameraperson, Certain Women, Christine, Elle, Hell or High Water, Indignation, Love & Friendship, The Mermaid, Microbe & Gasoline, My Golden Days, The Nice Guys, Right Now, Wrong Then, Silence

Still haven’t seen: I Am Not Your Negro, The Red Turtle, The Salesman, Things to Come, Tower

[jimmygeurts]

BEST RECORDS OF 2016

ANOHNI, Hopelessness

In a year where there was a lot of despondency in politics, Hopelessness best conveyed the current climate. Dance music has always been more political than it gets credit for, but Anohni makes that connection explicit with electronic tracks about drones, climate change and mass surveillance — made even more relevant as Obama hands that legacy over to Trump. Yet it’s also musically captivating thanks to the production, with Oneohtrix Point Never and Hudson Mohawke assisting. The result is an album that could be the soundtrack to a party full of depressed Glenn Greenwald readers.

Beyoncé, Lemonade

In a year where Beyoncé‘s newest was absorbed into the national consciousness and co-opted again and again and again, it’s easy to overlook what an ambitious work of art the actual album is. It takes the classic break-up (in this case, strained relationship) album template and turns it into a grand tapestry blending a variety of genres. It’s got the best Isaac Hayes sample since Wu-Tang Clan’s “I Can’t Go to Sleep” (”6 Inch”), a Jack White-assisted rollicking track (”Don’t a piano ballad (“Sandcastles”) and a country tune (”Daddy Lessons”). That’s not even counting the accompanying movie, the best Terrence Malick movie in a year where the director released two.

Frank Ocean, Blonde

In a year when meme culture ran rampant, Frank Ocean finally answered “Frank Ocean where the album at” after four years with his follow-up to 2012’s channel ORANGE. (Two, if you count his visual album/woodworking seminar Endless.) Proving that we should've just left Ocean alone to do his work, he turned in the kind of rewarding, ambitious record that every fan hopes for after a long wait. The musical highlight of the year may have been the mid-song switch-up in “Nights.”

Kanye West, The Life of Pablo

In a year where the ever-divisive Kanye West finally went a bridge too far for many by vocally supporting Trump, at least he had the decency to release his record months earlier. That’s not to say The Life of Pablo is all smooth sailing, with the Taylor Swift talk on “Famous” and the Chris Brown feature on “Waves” (which, regrettably, Chance the Rapper supposedly lobbied for.) But for every one of those, there would be multiple brilliant tracks like the modern gospel of “Ultra Light Beam” or the confessional “Real Friends.” Even if “I miss the old Kanye” proved to be unironically true with a large part of his audience, the album was a reminder of why folks have stayed with him this far.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Skeleton Tree

In a year where David Bowie and Leonard Cohen both released albums grappling with mortality, so did Nick Cave’s latest, though not with his own. Much of the album had been written before the death of his son, and he’s always been able to write emotionally wrenching music, as No More Shall We Part and The Boatman’s Call demonstrated. But it's particularly wrenching considering the real-life circumstances surrounding the making of the album. By the time it gets to the gently heartbreaking self-titled closer, it's almost too painful.

Radiohead, A Moon Shaped Pool

In a year when seemingly every artist who had an anticipated album released it, that included Radiohead’s first record in five years. After 2011′s The King of Limbs, A Moon Shaped Pool is a move away from that earlier album’s electronic sound and into the lush strings and instrumentation of tracks like “Daydreaming” and “Glass Eyes.” For those who claimed the band had retreated too far into chilliness, it’s a warm rejoinder. That includes the closer “True Love Waits,” a song first performed in 1995 and made even more heartbreaking after Thom Yorke’s separation from (and the recent death of) longtime partner Rachel Owen.

Rihanna, ANTI

In a year that was uncommonly strong for pop albums, ANTI seems like it may have regrettably fallen by the wayside a little. (Its January release date and somewhat puzzling record roll out strategy probably didn't help.) Yet Rihanna’s eighth album is her best yet and one of the year’s best, period. Sure, there was the Drake-featuring mega-hit “Work,” but the best tracks were deep cuts woozy on love, drink and drugs like the brief, blissed-out “James Joint,” the throwback soul of “Love on the Brain” and the ballad “Higher.”

Run the Jewels, Run the Jewels 3

In a year where the general mood was pretty bleak, Run the Jewels pushed on through like a superhero running through a stream of bullets bouncing off them. Run the Jewels 3 may not have the surprise element of their first two records, but the duo continue to find great new production, courtesy of El-P, and shit-talking turns of phrase. Take Killer Mike’s line on “Talk to Me”: “my job is to fight for survival/in spite of these All Lives Matter-ass white folk.” Releasing it on the Christmas holiday to ruin too-early year-end lists was also a nice touch.

Solange, A Seat at the Table

In a year where her sister Beyoncé’s album dominated pop culture, Solange showed she should be considered in the same class with her own fantastic record. It's one of the year’s most gratifying listens at 21 tracks, including interludes that are actually integral for once. It also brings a large list of collaborators like soul producer Raphael Saadiq, Lil Wayne, Kelela and more. But the real star is Solange, who on tracks like the gorgeous single “Cranes in the Sky” makes a case for herself as a major musical voice.

A Tribe Called Quest, We got it from Here...Thank You 4 Your Service

In a year that was often just plain rough and rotten, the first A Tribe Called Quest album in 18 years (and their best since 1993′s Midnight Marauders) was like a breath of fresh air. Even it couldn’t escape the darkness of 2016 entirely, released after the death of member Phife Dawg. Still, the record feels like a tonic with the classic interplay between the group and inspired samples such as the Elton John-lifting “Solid Wall of Sound.” At the same time, it has no room for staying stuck in the past, confronting the struggles of modern America and shouting-out a new generation of rappers like Kendrick Lamar and Earl Sweatshirt on “Dis Generation.”

Honorable mentions: Against Me!, Shape Shift with Me, American Football, American Football, Angel Olsen, My Woman, The Body, No One Deserves Happiness, Chance the Rapper, Coloring Book, Danny Brown, Atrocity Exhibition, David Bowie, Blackstar, The Exquisites, Home, Marissa Nadler, Strangers, Mitski, Puberty 2

Great but an EP: Carly Rae Jepsen, Emotion Side B, Kendrick Lamar, untitled unmastered

Only a song but it’s Colossal: Colossal, “Cast Iron Forest”

[jimmygeurts]

And I interviewed Buzz Osborne of the Melvins on their new albums, Kurt Cobain and Montage of Heck, working with Sub Pop and more:

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Then in the first of two interviews I did with famous cranks, I interviewed Lewis Black. 

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I also started a movie discussion podcast. In the first few episodes, we’ve discussed Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, 10 Cloverfield Lane and Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, with more to come soon.

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Haven’t been on here for a while, so going to do a blast of links to what I’ve been up to lately. First, interviewed Chris Farren of Fake Problems, Antarctigo Vespucci and his solo recordings. 

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Second Of A Sound Mind episode is up, with Christopher Nadeau of Permanent Makeup, among other groups. We talk moving from Maine to Florida, discovering DIY music and more:

[jimmygeurts]

BEST MOVIES OF 2015

1. The Look of Silence

Joshua Oppenheimer's staggering follow-up to The Act of Killing represents one of the greatest acts of courage ever committed to celluloid. While the previous documentary centered around the perpetrators of Cambodian genocide, who were not only unpunished but given prominent government positions, The Look of Silence follows Adi Rukin, whose brother was mutilated and murdered by them. And if The Act of Killing's surreal reenactments at least offered some distance, there is no such relief here as he looks these men in the eyes (both figuratively and literally, as he works as an optometrist) and confronts them about their deeds. Their reactions range from denial to anger at him "bringing up the past" to threats (one casually asks where his family lives in an unnerving reminder why the film's credits are largely anonymous), and one could hardly find a better document of mankind's ability to, and ability to live with, committing atrocities than this film.

2. Mad Max: Fury Road

Between Mad Max: Fury Road, Mission: Impossible — Rogue Nation, Creed and Star Wars: Episode VII — The Force Awakens, 2015 was the year of the improbably good late-series sequel, with the first being the most impressive. That a $150 million budget sequel to a non-household name series whose last entry was three decades ago was greenlit and given to original director George Miller is astounding; that it turned out to not only be the best Mad Max film but the best film of the year by most critics' estimation is something approaching alchemy. Almost the entire movie is calibrated at the pace and size of one of its desert chases, throttling along at breakneck speed with a seemingly unending array of visual effects. And as said franchises made an effort to feature prominent female and POC characters, Inspector Furiosa is its most lasting creation — a silent moment where Max offers his shoulder for her to rest her gun on may be the most striking scene in a film with a flame-spewing guitar.

3. Carol

After the letdown of his own English-language debut My Blueberry Nights, we finally have a great American Wong-Kar Wai movie in Todd Haynes’ Carol, an exquisitely shot, exquisitely scored and just plain exquisite portrayal of romantic longing. Also taking inspiration from David Lean’s classic Brief Encounter, the adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s novel follows a housewife and department store clerk who fall for one another, played beautifully by Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara. Although their sexuality is not irrelevant to the plot, with Carol’s former husband trying to deny her child custody through a morality clause, the movie is also refreshingly compelled to ignore it in its attempt to create one of the great, aching cinematic romances. And it’s largely successful, with the film’s return to the opening scene standing as one of the year’s most heartbreaking moments, and the ending as one of its most heart-lifting.

4. It Follows

Life in the suburbs can either be a hazy, carefree dream or a total nightmare, depending on the given moment, and few films illustrate that dichotomy more effectively —  or literally — than It Follows. The dreamy Disasterpeace synth score that follows our protagonist Jay as she rides her bike, watches old black-and-white movies with her friends and goes on a date and sleeps with a guy she likes suddenly takes on a sinister John Carpenter tone (as does the film itself) when it's revealed the sex has passed on a shape-shifting specter that will unceasingly stalk her. As with every new indie-horror critical darling, It Follows has received plenty of scrutiny from genre fans about whether it's really scary. I happen to think it is, particularly in the scene where Jay is initially introduced to "it," but arguably even impressive is how compelling the film remains even when it's not trying to frighten you by it being right behind you oh my God.

5. The Duke of Burgundy

The Duke of Burgundy is the year's most entrancingly odd film — try recommending a movie about a dom-sub lesbian couple (in an alternate universe populated entirely by women who are also obsessed with butterflies and moths, of course), introduced in a sequence that culminates with the latter being urinated on, without seeming like a weirdo. But it quickly reveals itself to be about how the supposed subordinate dictates their entire relationship, and then not even that, but an universal statement on the sacrifices we make for the people we love. Even as someone whose interest in S&M hovers somewhere around zero, I found this compellingly funny (the dominate chugs several glasses of water over the course of the film, never commented on) and moving in equal measure. Who could've guessed one of the year's most heartbreaking scenes would revolve around a woman admonishing her lover for not washing her dirty underwear correctly? 

6. Anomalisa 

After making the sprawling Synecdoche, New York, Charlie Kaufman’s comparatively modest follow-up is a 90-minute, three-actor adaptation of his earlier stage play, set almost entirely in a single hotel. But despite its smaller scope (both figuratively and literally, as it revolves around puppets in a fulfillment of John Cusack’s morose puppeteer in Being John Malkovich), Anomalisa falls in line with Synecdoche, New York, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and his other screenplays in blending the high-concept and the heartfelt. The film centers around a man who suffers from the Fregoli delusion, or the idea that everyone shares the same face and voice (in this case, that of Tom Noonan) until he discovers a woman who doesn’t. Yet it’s also full of beautifully observed moments including its already much-discussed sex scene, and turns its potentially clichéd “two unique souls find each other” scenario into something considerably more complicated, darker and altogether human.

7. Inside Out

Considering how much crying-based calisthenics Pixar has put its audiences through over the years, it's perhaps fitting that they've now made a film about the necessity of sadness. It also speaks to the animation studio’s trust in children's capacity to handle potentially upsetting material (Bing-Bong's fate deserves a spot in their bawl-of-fame) and instinctively comprehend relatively emotionally complex content that they’re able to make a movie like Inside Out. That said, a great deal of the film’s pleasure comes from a much lighter place in seeing how the mechanics of the mind are laid out in visual detail. Kid or adult, it's hard not to fall for the movie’s conception of dreams as the releases of a workmanlike movie set, or an abstract thought area that turns the characters into Picasso-like figures. 

8. Phoenix

Few who have seen Phoenix will deny that its ending is the year’s best, if not the best movie scene outright, but opinion seems more divided on the film and character decisions leading up to it. Yet while Johnny’s actions might seem questionable if you don’t buy them as a Vertigo-esque case of deliberate denial, the film earns the comparison to that Alfred Hitchcock classic. Making matters ever thornier is the ever-looming presence of the Holocaust, as protagonist Nelly (an astonishing Nina Hoss) attempts to recover her past life after surviving the concentration camps. That all comes to a head in that incredible ending, where the recurring theme of ���Speak Low” returns to deliver a final gut punch.

9. Spotlight

Some critics are decrying Spotlight for what they consider its unremarkable staging as opposed to its most obvious inspiration, All the President’s Men. Yet such an approach is arguably a more accurate reflection of the subject of reporting: unglamorous, methodical and patient. Like Shattered Glass, another one of the best journalism movies, its greatest virtues are its strong performances and clear-headed recounting of a cover-up unraveling — in this case, the Catholic Church’s safeguarding of sexual abusers as detailed by a Pulitzer-winning Boston Globe series. Director Tom McCarthy, whose The Station Agent was similarly unshowy and relaxed, is a good fit for the material, and if Spotlight does indeed take home the Best Picture Oscar as many are predicting, it will be among the Academy Awards’ better recent choices.

10. Creed

It was hard to imagine when a seventh Rocky film and spin-off centering around Apollo Creed’s son was announced that it would not only be good, but arguably the best film of the series. And yet Ryan Coogler’s Creed pulls it off, contemporizing the original while mirroring it in several ways (my favorite being the fragile Adrian love interest role reimagined as a FKA twigs-style musician gradually losing her hearing.) That includes Sylvester Stallone reprising the role of Rocky in a soulful turn that’s likely to win him the Best Supporting Actor Oscar. It’s too bad the Academy Awards didn’t recognize it elsewhere, including Michael B. Jordan and Tessa Thompson’s performances, Coogler’s direction or Mayse Alberti’s remarkable cinematography.

Honorable mention: ‘71, Amy, Bridge of Spies, Clouds of Sil Maria, The Forbidden Room, Girlhood, Mission: Impossible — Rogue Nation, Sicario, Timbuktu, Wild Tales

As yet unseen: 45 Years, Macbeth, Son of Saul

A short, but one of my favorite things I saw this year: World of Tomorrow

[jimmygeurts]

Just put up the first episode of my music interview podcast Of A Sound Mind. I talk to my brother and artist Brandon Geurts, who's done art for You Blew It!, Yautja, Marissa Nadler, Black Sabbath and more. Still figuring out the setup, so audio quality will hopefully get better over time, but feel free to listen and let me know what you think:

[jimmygeurts]

Went to my first show of the year last night: Bully, Palehound and Big Eyes.

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So I'm starting a podcast of music-related interviews. Putting up a first episode soon, but in the meantime, feel free to let me know who/what you'd be interested in hearing about.

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Anyway, that's it for my Music of My Lifetime posts. Hope someone enjoyed it, besides myself writing it!

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And my playlist for 2015 (not on Spotify: Heems):

[jimmygeurts]

MUSIC OF MY LIFETIME: 2015

Carly Rae Jepsen, E•MO•TION

Despite the enormous amount of goodwill critics had for her, Carly Rae Jepsen did not become a Taylor Swift-level pop star this year with her new album, which never charted higher than No. 16 on the Billboard 200. But E•MO•TION shows why many were rooting for her, with one of the best pop records in recent memory. The album starts off with its highpoint in “Run Away With Me,” (somewhat inexplicably not selected as the lead single), with its booming saxophones and insatiably catchy melody. Yet the entirety of E•MO•TION is remarkably consistent, with Jepsen aided by a crack team of co-writers including Blood Orange’s Dev Hynes, Vampire Weekend’s Rostam Batmanglij and Sia.

Earl Sweatshirt, I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside

Earl Sweatshirt and Kendrick Lamar have both expressed admiration for each other, and both released two of the best albums of the year, but the similarities between the rappers stop there. While To Pimp a Butterfly is an expansive, hour-plus opus, I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside runs less than 30 minutes and is as spare and dark as its album cover. On tracks like “Mantra” and “Faucet,” Sweatshirt laments the strain on his relationships with his mother, his lover and his ability to trust anyone following his newfound fame. “I ain’t been outside in a minute/I been living what I wrote,” he says on the fittingly titled “Grief,” and few records feel as palpable about depression and anxiety than this one and its sparse, insular production.

Hop Along, Painted Shut 

It's been a long journey as a Hop Along fan, from listening to their songs on MySpace in 2007, to seeing them go electric in 2009, to watching them gain attention with Get Disowned on 2012, to seeing them sign with Saddle Creek this year to release their most acclaimed album with Painted Shut. And it’s a good summation of their history so far, blending the full-band indie-punk arrangements of Get Disowned with the offbeat character studies of their Hop Along Queen Ansleis days. The title character of “Waitress” might not seem like an unusual song subject, then it throws in an idiosyncratic detail like “by the time it’s old/my face will have been seen one and a half million times.” Yet it never gets too precious and is rooted in recognizable emotion, like the helplessness frontwoman Frances Quinlan feels in “Powerful Man.”

Kendrick Lamar, To Pimp A Butterfly

It's not often that the critical consensus for album of the year is so unanimous (to the point that even the president concurs), but To Pimp a Butterfly really was the best record released this year. It's a wildly ambitious album with a cohesive narrative, with a poem that’s told incrementally before finally appearing in full on the final track. At the same time, its singles hold up remarkably well removed from the record, including “King Kunta,” “The Blacker the Berry” and “Alright,” which has already achieved historical significance after its adoption by the Black Lives Matter movement. And the album’s credits span the history of black music, from the jazz of Kamasi Washington, to the soul of George Clinton and Ronald Isley, to the West Coast rap of Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and Tupac, who holds a conversation with Lamar through interview samples in the album’s final, touching moment.

Protomartyr, Under Color of Official Right

Protomartyr have made a strong case for themselves as one of the most promising new bands out there by putting out one of last year’s best albums in Under Color of Official Right, then repeating that feat just a year later with The Agent Intellect. It retains many of the strongest elements of that earlier record, including its rousing post-punk and Joe Casey’s witty, misanthropic lyrics. Yet it isn’t just a retread of their earlier success, as it adds new touches like the sinister synth line on “Cowards Starve.” And its greatest departure comes near the close of the album with “Ellen,” a song dedicated to Casey’s mother, who was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, offering an moment of love in a sea of darkness.

 Royal Headache, High

Plenty has already written about Royal Headache singer Shogun and how he sports a unusually soulful croon for the frontman of a punk band. Yet less commented on is how the songs themselves, particularly on their sophomore album High, are practically Motown tunes — the organ-backed “Need You” could’ve conceivably been a soul single in the ‘60s with almost no changes necessary. Tracks like “My Own Fantasy” and “Love Her If I Tried” work equally as rousing punk songs and slabs of soul. And with all the Replacements-indebted, “we need to save rock ‘n’ roll” acts out there, Royal Headache earns the comparison on a record that also opens with the deflating line “I used to live in a world of rock ‘n’ roll and tons of girls/it was my own fantasy.”

Sleater-Kinney, No Cities to Love

Anyone wondering if Sleater-Kinney would have anything new to say on their reunion record No Cities to Love, their first since 2005’s The Woods, get their answer with opening track “Price Tag.” The song addresses the economic recession that's happened in the group’s absence, through the eyes of a family as the band’s members have started their own. Then there’s that searing riff to show that not everything's changed and that Sleater-Kinney can still pen a great guitar song on tracks like “Surface Envy” and “No Anthems.” It's the ideal record for a band returning after a long sabbatical — it shows growth and maturity in a non-showy manner, while still understanding and delivering the visceral pleasures of their previous material.

Titus Andronicus, The Most Lamentable Tragedy

If Titus Andronicus’ 93-minute rock opera about manic depression had a cinematic equivalent this year, it’d be The Hateful Eight: sprawling, self-referential, self-indulgent — both even feature intermissions. It takes an enormously ambitious record to make a Civil War-inspired concept album with a 14-minute closing track seem subdued, and Patrick Stickles clearly feels very close to the material, providing extensive annotations and taking Pitchfork to task for their overwhelmingly positive review. And if I don’t think it’s perfect either, seeking perfection in such a massive, messy work seems misguided. Yet the highpoints of The Most Lamentable Tragedy, such as “Dimed Out” and “Fatal Flaw,” stand as the highpoints of Titus Andronicus’ career.

Vince Staples, Summertime ‘06

Bloat and filler can be problems for even strong hip-hop records, so credit where credit is due to Vince Staples to making his debut an hour-long double album that feels remarkably tight. That’s in part because Staples has a lot to say: on first track “Lift Me Up” alone, he ruminates on his newfound celebrity, white audience members shouting the n-word back at him at concerts, and the conflicting desires of social activism and financial success. Summertime ‘06 is a sober (both metaphorically and literally, as Staples notes “I ain’t never did a drug/when you’re doing what I does/need your mind right”) look at his hometown of Long Beach. Yet the most striking song might be “Summertime,” which closes the first half of the album on a moment of vulnerability as Staples contemplates love over a haunting Clams Casino beat.

Young Guv, Ripe 4 Luv

On the basis that I haven’t seen it on literally a single end-of-year list, Young Guv’s Ripe 4 Luv would seemingly has to rank as the year’s most underrated album. Part of that is likely the record’s relatively minor scope — it’s an eight-track, 30-minute side project of Ben Cook, who plays guitar in Fucked Up and has written music for pop stars like Taylor Swift. Ripe 4 Luv bridges the divide between the two, featuring the shimmering guitars of the former group and the revival-pop tone of the latter. “Crawling Back to You” is arguably the most successful modern stab at recreating Big Star’s brand of power-pop, while closer “Wrong Crowd” stands along with Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Run Away with Me” as the best use of saxophones in pop-rock this year.

[jimmygeurts]

My favorite Tampa Bay shows of 2015: Chance the Rapper, Against Me!, The Mountain Goats and more:

[jimmygeurts]

My Music of My Lifetime playlist for 2014 (not on Spotify: Taylor Swift):