I heard you took it to another level.

What's all this talk about records not being as good as their predecessors? This nonsense about, "well, it's good but it's not as good as their last record?" Or, "it's not good enough?"

I constantly talk about the pros and cons of the internet when it comes to music. Pro: well, bands who would never, ever be heard can be heard because of the internet. Con: some bands who shouldn't be heard can be heard too. But I think the internet is also responsible for this recent phenomenon of perfect (or really fucking good) debut albums. I'm talking about Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, Arcade Fire, etc. Bands are being hyped right out of the gate, which is fine, but over all detrimental. They have to follow up those perfect records eventually. And they're only setting themselves up for ridiculously high expectations and disappointed fans. As I sit here, I am trying to think of a second album that was as good as a hyped debut (or better) and I think I can only come up with Bon Iver, Bon Iver.

But what about following up the record that propelled you into public consciousness? (By "public," I mean indie music blogs and website, but you knew that, right?) I'm pretty sure that's not a particularly easy task, and sometimes artists can improve on those records (i.e St. Vincent, Sufjan Stevens) but more often that not, I hear fans says, "Well, it's good but it's not as good as their last record." Which leads me to wonder if it is possible to ever judge a record objectively. Is musical discourse always about comparisons? I mean, we constantly compare artists to one another but have we gotten to this point where we are actually comparing bands to themselves?

So many of the reviews of Titus Andronicus' Local Business have begun with something along the lines of, "Well, it's good but it's not as good as The Monitor." The Monitor was a once-in-a-career record and a true masterpiece. It's mind-blowing that a band that young could put out such a perfect record that clicked on all cylinders. It was one of, if not my favorite record of 2010.  (I go back and forth between it and LCD Soundsystem's This Is Happening. Talk about two killer opening tracks.) It was momentous, but also a concept record. Would I have been really, really happy if Titus Andronicus put out a record just like The Monitor? Of course. But did I expect it? Of course not. And if anyone did, they're just silly. (Boy, this is like my Centipede Hz argument all over again.)  But that didn't mean I was going to accept a shitty record. Putting out a perfect record doesn't excuse a terrible one. Well, the first time I heard "In a Big City," I wasn't impressed (save the Hamlet reference). I didn't really care for "Still Life With Hot Deuce on a Silver Platter" either (but I've since learned to really like those tracks) so it didn't bode well for the rest of the record. I was prepared to be let down by one of my favorite new bands. I couldn't even get past the first two tracks when I streamed the whole record on NPR. But eventually I came around to Local Business. It is a good, solid record. No, it isn't The Monitor. But you know, if it was a similar record, people would say they are one-note. If they attempted another record like The Monitor, and failed, they would get called out for that too. The Monitor is ambitious and instead of trying to top it, they were ambitious yet again for putting out a different type of record. Patrick Stickles is still a very strong songwriter, and an even stronger lyricist, and that makes it clear that this record's sound deliberate and not, as many people think, a step down from The Monitor.  Different doesn't mean bad, especially since Local Business is a solid record. Titus Andronicus does something very few bands do: they make straight-up rock and roll that doesn't need any excuses. I love Japandroids' Celebration Rock (one of my favorite releases of the year so far) but I've heard too many people say, "it doesn't need to have strong lyrics because that's not the point of the record." If you like solid rock, check out Local Business.

I think Local Business teaches us that it's probably better to have no expectations, which is why the best records, for me at least, tend to be the ones by bands I never gave a second thought to (I didn't like Post-Nothing when it was released and still don't love it but I love Celebration Rock, for example). If we just expect solid records from our favorite bands, maybe there won't be anymore records that aren't "good enough."

Today feels so supernatural.

2009 was a formative year for me. It was the year I discovered Andrew Bird, whose music created a desire in me to absorb as much music, music news, music journalism (whatever that is), and musical discussion as possible. In that year, while I was listening to Noble Beast (and I still stand by my opinion that that was the best album to be released that year), the rest of the world was listening to Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion. 

I am incredibly torn on both Animal Collective and MPP (and really all of the artists that put out the "top" records that year...Grizzly Bear, The xx, Dirty Projectors, etc.). Don't get me wrong, "Brother Sport" and "Summertime Clothes" are fantastic tracks but on a whole, I have never considered MPP the masterpiece that many consider it to be. I acknowledge that it is a strong record but it just never bowled me over. I also acknowledge that Animal Collective is truly one of the most creative bands around, and I admire their ability to always change their sound from album to album. When they announced their latest record, Centipede Hz, I thought, "Well, I'll give it a whirl." (Frankly, I'll listen to anything.) I expected to be lukewarm and for everyone else to rave about it. I couldn't wait to be incredibly aggravated at all of the hype and accolades and glowing reviews and wank. But I listened to the stream on NPR and immediately liked it (especially "Today's Supernatural," which I admit, I thought was a mess upon initial listens). I liked it enough to actually buy tickets to see Animal Collective. Animal Collective! I was going to see a band I ripped on for three years!

And then the reviews came out.

I knew something was amiss when Pitchfork didn't label it "Best New Music." But it just got worse from there. And instead of basking in the glow of negative Animal Collective reviews, I thought, "this is bizarre. Animal Collective doesn't make bad records!" I'm not going to review Centipede Hz myself. I just know I really, really enjoy it. Is it busy? Sure is. Is it as accessible as MPP? Of course not. And it seems like AnCo knew exactly what they were doing when they made it. Anyone expecting another "My Girls" was seriously mistaken (even though I never really liked that track anyway). I mean, was anyone really expecting another record as poppy as MPP? But Centipede Hz is busy and loud and ugly and I think it all works perfectly as a total package. Don't get me wrong, I love beautiful music (this blog is named after an Andrew Bird lyric after all, right?) but there's something as equally rewarding about listening to loud and ugly and messy music (Patrick Stickles' voice and guitar, the Dirty Projectors' harmonies, etc.) and I think Animal Collective got it.

So, why am I so disappointed by the reviews? AnCo is far from my favorite band. I enjoy the record, I have been listening to it daily, and I am going to see the group in October. But finally I felt, "Yes! I am listening to the same music as the cool kids! I get one of those records" only to find that I was wrong. And it shouldn't effect how I feel about it. And yet, I, as well as many other music fans, often act as though the critics determine what I listen to. But why do we do this? To me, music is the most personal and intimate art form. I've always believed good music can hurt (don't believe me? Listen to Sufjan Stevens' "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out to Get Us") and there is nothing better than hearing one of your favorite songs live in concert. Or the desire to put a song on repeat and listen to it over and over again. When "Today's Supernatural" clicked for me, all I wanted to do was listen and dance to it. So why do I feel guilty for enjoying Centipede Hz? Why can't I just say, "nope, this is my Animal Collective record and I don't give a shit what you say?" Why even get defensive and angry at the weak reviews? Perhaps because music is so incredibly personal. It's the same way we get when our friends don't agree that that one particular song you forced them to listen to is the greatest song ever written.

So, ignore the critics, right? Or, don't put too much into what they say. Just read the reviews for fun when you're bored at your desk at work. Also, go listen to Centipede Hz and dance to it and you too can fall in love with Avey Tare, all while contemplating if he's actually singing about fruit in "Applesauce" (it is a great track, you know.)