For us, 2011 was another year of taking in as much as we could and sharing the best with you. Next year, however, will be a homecoming of sorts, a return to rock-'n'-roll roots. We'll soon be able to share the projects that we have in store — across multiple mediums — but for now, dig into this rock-focused list of must-own albums.

And for more, revisit (or simply visit) our lists from 2010 and 2009:

100 Unheralded Albums from 2010
50 Unheralded Albums from 2009

Steven Drozd: The Heart Is A Drum Machine (The Score) (Twinkle Cash Co., 1/18/11)

Steven Drozd: "Born"

A multi-instrumentalist and the third-most-tenured member of The Flaming Lips, Steven Drozd marked his first official solo release early this year with the nearly instrumental accompaniment to the documentary The Heart is a Drum Machine.

The music shares a lot of characteristics with the Flaming Lips of the past dozen years – synthesized grooves, big rock beats, fuzz bass, airy keyboards, and different instrumental flourishes weaving in and out. But listeners are unlikely to confuse the two, and the score succeeds as a standalone album as well as a film accompaniment.

…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead: Tao of the Dead (Richter Scale Records / Superball Music, 2/8/11)

…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead: "Weight of the Sun"

There has been no shortage of grand themes and allegories in the canon of Austin post-punk quintet …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. The band’s newest album, however, better matches its ambitious themes with its music, presenting an epic pair of pieces for Tao of the Dead.

The album recalls progressive albums of yore, from the likes of Rush and King Crimson, but channels them into easily digested movements. Stretches of heavy distortion and drum thrashing will appeal to the more metal-minded Trail of Dead fans, but there’s also plenty of hook-laden, radio-ready alternative rock.

Wires Under Tension: Light Science (Western Vinyl, 2/8/11)

Wires Under Tension: "Electricity Turns Them On"

Light Science is the exciting debut from Wires Under Tension, a duo comprised of violinist/multi-instrumentalist Christopher Tignor and drummer Theo Metz. With help from a few friends, including Jared Bell of Lymbyc Systym, the two combine live performance with electronic manipulation, sounding something like a progressive Dirty Three with horns, hip-hop beats, and post-rock guitar swells.

This seven-track release is a dense, fluid collection that retains consistency thanks to Metz’s steady rhythms. Electro-mechanical piano, clavinet, and synthesizers mesh with loops and samples to round out an impressive first release.

Pitom: Blasphemy and Other Serious Crimes (Tzadik, 2/22/11)

Pitom: "Head in the Ground"

Combining heavy, fuzzy rock jams with Jewish melodies, Pitom is one of many projects from guitarist, bassist, and composer Yoshie Fruchter. Blasphemy and Other Serious Crimes, the quartet's second release on Tzadik, follows the same path as its predecessor, but it does so with a bit more cohesion and restraint.

Built from the ground up with distorted bass and violin, the band's music carries similarities to that of Skeletonbreath and Miasma & The Carousel of Headless Horses. Whether driving a song with an infectious melody, commingling with the violin in the high end, or simply taking over a track with raw ability, Fruchter knows when to go full throttle (the punk power of "An Epic Encounter") or pull back (the dark slow jam of "A Resentful Repentance").

The Psychic Paramount: II (No Quarter, 2/22/11)

The Psychic Paramount: "RW"

Though relatively silent for the past six years, New York noise-rock trio The Psychic Paramount returned in February to release its first full-length since 2005. Effected guitar loops, devastating low-end grooves, and bashing rhythms again form the core of the band's sound, but II is a direct yet dynamic rock explosion.

Between the guitar, the cymbals, and the effects, the mid-range gets a constant workout. Those who are turned off by this kind of music may find it to be an exercise in patience, but the lengthier durations are a testament to the trio's skills at climax and denouement.

DeVotchKa: 100 Lovers (Anti-, 3/1/11)

DeVotchKa: "100 Other Lovers"

Following the fame from its Oscar-winning soundtrack for Little Miss Sunshine in 2006, Denver multi-instrumental quartet DeVotchKa has playfully tinkered with its sweeping, emotive sound. Though it already tossed together elements of folk, rock, Mexican, and Gypsy music, it remained united by the sullen croons and songwriting of frontman Nick Urata.

That unifying factor remains, but its newest album, 100 Lovers – its second post-Sunshine full-length – continues to expand the band’s scope. The material adds new and often subtle flavors to DeVotchKa’s repertoire. Uninitiated listeners might hear more of the same, but 100 Lovers is perfect for content fans – moving in new directions without a radical departure.

Stateless: Matilda (Ninja Tune, 3/1/11)

Stateless: "Ariel"

Matilda, Stateless' second full-length, showcases the British electro-rock group's continued maturity. Lead singer Chris James hits an impressive range of notes, from reverb-cloaked backing croons to soulful leads, atop an amalgamated mix of styles, sounds, and beats.

With contributions from The Balanescu Quartet, DJ Shadow, and Shara Worden (of My Brightest Diamond), Matilda is stylistically inventive, with familiar worldly touchstones reworked into new contexts.

Grails: Deep Politics (Temporary Residence, 3/8/11)

Grails: "I Led Three Lives"

With cinematic soundscapes, Westernized Indian melodies, film-noir mystique, 1960s psychedelia, and crushing heaviness, Grails is an instrumental rarity. The Portland band's newest offering, Deep Politics, is an engaging and epic mix of acoustic intonations, indigenous sounds and melodies, spaghetti-western motifs, somber piano balladry, and more doom-filled, Eastern-infused stylistic transcendence.

And thanks in part to arrangements by Timba Harris, the mighty violinist from unparalleled genre annihilators Estradasphere and Secret Chiefs 3, Deep Politics vies to be Grails’ best album yet.

Parts & Labor: Constant Future (Jagjaguwar, 3/8/11)

Parts & Labor: "Constant Future"

After establishing itself early last decade as an interesting new name in noise rock, Parts & Labor delivered a flurry of releases over the span of just a few years. Since then, the band has scaled back to a trio built around the fuzzed guitar, bass, keyboard hooks, and tight rock rhythms.

Featuring some of the band's sturdiest songs yet, Constant Future is direct, potent, and catchy. Behind Dan Friel and BJ Warshaw's echoing, harmonized vocals are dirty, thick grooves that power the overlaid electronic freak-outs.

Adebisi Shank: This is the Second Album from a Band Called Adebisi Shank (Sargent House, 3/15/11)

Adebisi Shank: "Micro Machines"

Released to European acclaim in 2010, the aptly titled second album from Irish electro/math rockers Adebisi Shank achieved North American release this year thanks to the peerless Sargent House.

The management company / record label describes the trio as a blend of Fang Island’s shredding riffs with Battles’ electronic quirkiness and rhythmic playfulness. That description isn’t off the mark, but readers won’t get a sense of the band’s real abilities until they hear its hyper-melodic, polyrhythmic, and — most importantly — jubilant songs in full.

Second Album delivers a maelstrom of zany electronics, unusual distortions, and triumphant, rapidly ascending scales mixed with vintage synths, marimba, horns, and other accoutrements. This is all packaged between and around gloriously catchy and powerful rock riffs, resulting in a manic and buoyant sophomore effort.

Chrome Hoof:

Chrome Hoof: "Crystalline"

Despite the sparkly silver cloaks and the monochromatic moniker, sterling is not the word that brothers Leo and Milo Smee use to describe their music. When asked where they would place themselves on the disco-chamber-doom-prog color spectrum, Milo chooses “an unpleasant magenta.”

Known for their flippant jokes, the Smees don’t apply an overly cerebral context to Chrome Hoof, their London rock ensemble of sci-fi sounds and occult vibes. Instead, the brothers direct serious energy toward producing a theatrical, stimulating live show. “We need to keep it fun and moving forward — especially with our low attention spans,” Leo says.

Originally formed as a duo with Leo on bass and Milo on drums, the Smees performed with a tape machine and a sampler to fill out the sound. Now a sprawling live incarnation of ten of more musicians, Chrome Hoof maintains a core of Leo and Milo with singer Lola Olafisoye of electronica funk band Spektrum. The logistics of coordinating such an impressive production can be trying, but they manage to pull it off with a deep roster of musicians.

“As long as me, Milo, and Lola are available, then we can make it work,” Leo says. “We’re not huge on rehearsals, but we for sure have to put work in. Most of the members have jobs, and with having so many members, if certain people can’t make shows, we either draft other floating members in, or just cover the missing instruments with synths.”

Performances include a wardrobe of the aforementioned glittery-hooded, cultish cloaks, dancing girls adding a touch of chaotic energy, accompanying lasers and fog, and, for a time, a seven-foot metallic ram. The spectacle of a Chrome Hoof show is almost as important as the music itself. “Having a visual aspect increases the experience — and helps us to get into character,” Leo says. “You have to be there one time to see what it’s about. A YouTube video can’t transmit the two-way energy that being at the show does.”

When making comparisons to their over-the-top performances, the brothers agree that there are plenty of theatrics in the rock arena. “We just saw Gwar,” Leo says, “but the idea of being on stage and entertaining seems to have dwindled. There’s a proliferation of four-boy outfits with trendy tattoos and tight jeans.”

Chrome Hoof’s third album, Crush Depth, released in May of 2010 on Southern Records, also bucks trendiness, garnering comparisons to iconic bands like Funkadelic, Slits, and Slayer. So what to make of such a disparate group? Though the band borrows liberally from a pool of eras and genres, to call them derivative or simply a musical collage would be missing the point. “I’m not sure there would be any band you couldn’t apply that [theory] to,” Milo says. “Everything has its roots in stuff that went before, but hopefully it’s apparent that we are trying to push forward in our own way.”

Questioned as to whether it is even possible to make music that isn’t derivative of something, Milo is honest and realistic: “I’d like to say yes,” he responds, “but I can’t think of anything to back it up. It’s our thing. The power of music is undeniable; that doesn’t apply to rock music any more than anything else — or any more to 2010 than 3009.”

Take Crush Depth’s seven-minute “Sea Hornet,” easily the most incongruent track on the album. Opening with a low cackle of voices, a bass line emerges aping the riff from Rush’s “YYZ.” A half-melted synthesizer line combines with a 16^th-note hi-hat beat to turn the heavy throb on its head and into a loungy, Tortoise-style groove. Then triumphant strings and an ’80s whip-crack snare effect combine to form a pumping anthem. While the song fades out, unintelligible, whispered vocals hover over an extended cool-down. Though bordering on exhausting and indulgent, its clever calculations and undeniable sense of fun make “Sea Hornet” a standout track, incongruence and all.

Sharing a progressive, experimental approach to music, the band had the opportunity to play Magma’s 40th anniversary show with French composer Jean-Pierre Massiera in October of 2009. This led to Massiera’s contribution to the track “Towards Zero” on Crush Depth. Leo explains, “We wanted to do a cover version of ‘Visitors’ ages ago, so when we were asked to do a collaboration with Massiera, we jumped at the chance. We had a couple of rehearsals prior to the gig, but the only problem is that we had little knowledge of the French language, and Massiera [had even] with less English. He couldn’t remember a lot of his old tunes and had to be guided through the songs. He’s a live wire for sure, which only added to the feast. As we were working on the album, we thought it would be a cheeky opportunity to capture this legend on record. He was more than happy to shriek some guttural poetry on top of our music.”

Recording Crush Depth took about a year to complete. Over that period, Milo and Leo had quiet times where decisions could be delayed, which they say was useful in the process as parts were recorded at 50 locations with 70 people. “There was a 12-piece choir, harpist, maybe 10 people doing a bit of engineering here and there, back-up parts recorded to double certain lines, obviously the whole band, and quite a few guest musicians,” Milo says. Those guests include German experimental group Cluster on “Deadly Pressure,” an ominous Cthulu-rising space jam.

“[Songs] changed according to environments, availability of personnel, credit status, et cetera,” Milos says. “It was a fluid process. The time that we had meant we could try a lot of things out.” The long process also meant that the band was able to borrow lots of keyboards, a Mellotron, and “the overrated Moog Taurus.”

To explain the result of the extensive cast of collaborators and the amount of time spent creating Crush Depth, Milo uses a snack-cake analogy, comparing it to the band’s previous album, Pre-Emptive False Rapture: “It has more layers, like a foul Sara Lee cake. Pre-Emptive is more digestible — like a Mr. Kipling Almond Slice. Crush Depth is like the title — whatever you make of that. It’s more of an album to be played as a whole.”

Though the United States has waited for a proper release of Chrome Hoof’s material, it may take much longer for Americans to see Chrome Hoof in the flesh. After all, bringing together the sheer multitude of musicians, dancers, instruments, and props for a cross-Atlantic tour will only be resolved by a Herculean scheduling effort. But there must be hope for such a journey, because the band has proven, through its recordings and its legendary performances, that it is willing to go the extra mile.

Primus: Green Naugahyde (ATO / Prawn Song, 9/13/11)

Primus: "Tragedy's a'Comin'"

"It's kind of like trying to describe a wine," chuckles Primus bandleader/bassist Les Claypool. "Everybody has their different adjectives that they use."

Responding to the suggestion that the oddball Bay Area trio's new album, Green Naugahyde, was recorded and mixed with a more transparent "sound" than previous work, Claypool doesn't necessarily agree or disagree. The album is the band's first full-length in 12 years, and listeners, of course, are bound to draw their own conclusions.

"Whatever 'transparent' means to you," he continues, "might be different than what it means to me. From a production standpoint, the approach to this thing was very similar to what we've always done, which is record ourselves at my house. Over the years, I've collected a bunch of old vintage gear — we recorded to tape through an old API console, so it's a very clean, very crisp, very clear recording. And for the most part, we weren't coloring things after the fact. It was going to tape as raw as we could possibly put it to tape. But there's also a lot of contrast between the individual songs."

Certainly, the instrumentation and overall mood both vary dramatically from song to song. As an example, Claypool points to how newly returned drummer Jay Lane uses larger, "more bombastic" drums on certain tunes as opposed to others, while the toy-like rattle of Lane's bells and high-pitched percussion takes center stage on "Eternal Consumption Engine," which also features a bowed acoustic bass and evokes the giddy disorder of a 19th Century sideshow. That song is immediately followed by the hard-charging Bootsy Collins-meets-Larry Graham funk of "Tragedy's a' Comin'," which in turn is followed by the static, claustrophobic apprehension of "Eyes of the Squirrel."

Such variety, though, is nothing new for a Primus album, and in the bigger picture, the most significant contrast comes courtesy of Lane, whose very presence sets the new material apart from the band's entire (official) back catalog. Lane, who has also worked with former Grateful Dead guitarist Bob Weir's group RatDog and Charlie Hunter among others, comes back to Primus after a long history with Claypool: he was the band's drummer just prior to the recording of its first album, 1989's Suck on This, and took part in the one-off 1994 reunion of the pre-Suck on This lineup under the name Sausage. Since 2000, he also has participated in several of Claypool's solo-oriented projects and releases. Compared to his more forceful predecessors, Tim "Herb" Alexander and Bryan "Brain" Mantia, Lane's loose, winding style allows the band to indulge its lighter, more flexible side.

"He's always been my go-to guy when I could get him," explains Claypool, whose esteem for Lane's musical ability dates back to the '80s, when Lane was playing in San Francisco world-beat ensemble The Freaky Executives. "Even when he joined Primus back in the day, we couldn't believe it. It was like, 'Wow, Jay Lane wants to play with us!' Unfortunately, he had a record deal with The Freaky Executives, and when Primus started getting popular, we were like, 'Hey, dude, you need to make a decision here.' He went with the record deal. We made our first record a month later, and away we went."

Lane's return reconnects the band to the time before long-time guitarist Larry LaLonde became a member. In fact, until 2010, the two had never been in Primus at the same time. A quick re-cap: In 1988, Primus consisted of Claypool, Lane, and guitarist Todd Huth (later reunited as the aforementioned Sausage). At the time, that lineup had already come up with the bulk of the material that would end up in live form on Suck on This and in studio form on the band's 1990 signature classic Frizzle Fry. Though Huth wrote most of the guitar lines on those songs — Claypool and LaLonde both credit Huth profusely for his contribution during the band's formative stages — LaLonde's indescribable style and searing electro-static tone made an indelible mark on the sound. Before joining, LaLonde had played in the thrash band Possessed and taken guitar lessons from Joe Satriani. He also had played with Claypool in the progressive-metal band Blind Illusion. But by the time he tried out for Primus, LaLonde was turning the corner on a fresh way to approach his instrument.

"It's funny, because I was just cleaning out my garage the other day," LaLonde says, "and I found some old Possessed records. I was listening to them and I was like, 'Wow, this music was actually kind of crazy.' It was definitely challenging, guitar-wise. But hearing things like King Crimson and [Frank] Zappa made me want to write crazy guitar stuff. When I joined Primus, it was like, 'Here's my chance to make the type of crazy music that I grew up listening to.'"

LaLonde himself was impressed with how natural it felt to accommodate Huth's established parts.

"It was definitely one of the weirdest things about when I first got in the band," he reminisces. "When I started learning some of Todd's parts, I was like, 'Whoa, this reminds me of the style I was going for already.'"

"For me," Claypool offers, "it was just about chemistry. I didn't realize it back then, but I realize it much more now: the way somebody plays is like their speaking voice. I think people's playing very much represents their personalities. As much as we all have individual, unique personalities, there are people that try and conform and be very much like other people and not step outside the box. The people I've always been attracted to on any level — even as far as hanging out — are people who are a bit odd. So it seemed natural that someone like Ler would be in my camp.

"I'm sure that both of those guys would agree — maybe they won't — but to me, Todd was more like Robert Fripp, whereas Ler was more like Adrian Belew. They both have similar styles that complement each other very well. Todd was a little more precise, but he would play the freakiest, most odd-time shit you ever heard in your life. We used to call it 'Todd time' because he had a hard time playing in 4. If you said, 'Okay, on your own, play something in 4,' he would have a hard time. He could play any Tony Iommi or classic-rock lick, but when he plays his own stuff, to this day — and we're actually going to stream the new Porch album on our website because it's really cool — he has this certain way of playing that's just Todd. It used to drive Jay Lane crazy."

Claypool expounds further on the differences between the various players, and how Primus' sound shifted with each personnel change.

"Jayski is like the funkiest guy on the planet," Claypool says. "He has this sort of Dave Garibaldi-meets-Stewart Copeland thing. He's Mr. Hi-Hat guy. He's got that Minneapolis-funk thing goin'. Whereas when Tim came in, it was like, 'Whoa, now we got Bill Bruford-meets-Neil Peart.' With Jayski, it was way more funky. And obviously, Ler's got more of an edge to him. He was playing through a Marshall half-stack, so I knew, as soon as the three of us started playing: 'We're a rock band now.' Before, we were more like — I don't even know — like a funky XTC or something."

In order to bring Lane back this time, however, Claypool first had to get over his initial reservations about the drummer's existing commitment to Grateful Dead founding member Bob Weir.

"It kind of got to where I was stepping on Bob's toes," Claypool says, "so I stopped working with Jay for a while. Bob's such a great guy, and I didn't want to bum him out. But it was time for Jayski to come back."

Lane's contribution, Claypool insists, runs much deeper than the music: "Just on a personal level, Jayski's a big, happy guy. He's one of these people that wakes up with a smile on his face. He's very positive and happy. That's a huge thing to have in your life and one reason why we've been friends for so long."

Lane also makes it easier for the band to be more spontaneous and free in coming up with new material.

"The thing about Jayski that I've always found incredibly exciting," Claypool raves, "is that no matter how much his kit is set up, as soon as I start playing something, within two measures he jumps right in with me. And he always has. It could be just a snare and a kick drum and hi-hat with everything else splayed all over the floor, and as soon as I start playing, he starts playing too. He's that intuitive."

So much so, apparently, that Claypool cites his comfort level with Lane as the primary reason why Primus is back together in the first place. Green Naugahyde marks the band's return to full-time status since a series of touring reunions that began with the release of the 2003 EP Animals Should Not Try to Act Like People. Throughout those reunions — which reinstated the classic lineup of Claypool, LaLonde, and Alexander — Claypool and LaLonde repeatedly expressed interest in making a new studio full-length but remained non-committal. That album never materialized. All the while, it was never officially confirmed that Primus was back together on a long-term basis.

"I sort of always assumed that at the end of those tours, we would do a record," LaLonde says, speaking while on a break from a recording session scoring "some crazy horror movie" with former Primus drummer Mantia. "Then those tours ended and everyone went and did other things. It's hard to say why. I was usually the guy that was trying to get everyone to do it. I'm not sure why it never totally took off. I think we both knew that Tim wasn't totally into doing it. And we also knew that if Jay wanted to do it, we'd be excited."

Claypool clarifies: "Primus wasn't actually back together from 2003 to 2010. Primus got together in 2003 and did some stuff, and then we got together again in 2006 and did some stuff."

Those bouts of touring, naturally, drew a lot of attention back to Primus, and Claypool says that he grew frustrated with people referring to his work outside of the band as his "side projects."

"Primus was actually the side project," he stresses. "From 2000 to 2010, my focus was doing my stuff. That 10-year period was the most amazing, most prolific time of my entire life. I loved it, and it was very difficult for me to give up the band I had for [2009 solo album] Of Fungi and Foe to come back and do Primus.

"If it wasn't for Jay Lane, I wouldn't have done it. Tim is a great guy and he's an amazing player, obviously, but we've never really had a great personal relationship. It was always…'fine,' but it wasn't like we were all excited to get together and hang. We've actually never hung out at all. And from the creative standpoint, we'd kind of hit the wall. Even when we were talking about doing a record, there just didn't seem to be any interest. When we'd do soundchecks, which is when we'd try to jam and come up with interesting ideas, it just wasn't happening. The notion of making a record wasn't flowing naturally, so it wasn't an exciting prospect for me. But making this record was incredibly easy."

Though it's unfair to conclude that this new-found ease shaped the music in any direct, tangible way, Green Naugahyde makes for a less challenging listen than, say, the murky abrasion of 1993 album Pork Soda, or the strobing post-metal psychedelia of Frizzle Fry. Whereas those early albums capture Primus striding into uncharted creative territory with an almost manic fervor, the new album falls within boundaries that the band established more than two decades ago. With that said, the more we take Primus' sound for granted today, the more it speaks to what the band has accomplished. The new material, in fact, demonstrates just how adept Claypool, LaLonde, and Lane (all of whom contributed songs for the album) have gotten at writing hallmark Primus songs without simply regurgitating old ideas. And, as always, sinister shadows lurk within the music's deceptive, cartoon-like bounce. Every Primus album harbors an undercurrent of human drama, even pathos, but Green Naugahyde reflects a harsher, more personal edge than previous efforts.

"Last Salmon Man," for example, at first come across like a goofy tale about a father-son pair of fishermen before revealing itself as an ominous warning. Claypool sings of a declining fish population and the ruin that ensues as the twin specters of human excess and ecological disaster loom at the edges of the frame. Typical of Claypool's style, his delivery remains impassive even while he paints a picture of mounting desperation. Elsewhere on the album, he references heroin addiction, cancer, the Gulf Coast oil spill, the shooting of a pedophile, and (on three separate songs) the ravenous demands of material consumption and advertising.

"I've always been exorcising demons in Primus' lyrics," Claypool says. "A lot of it has to do my family in terms of substance abuse. But I've always done it through these characters. I'm a big fan of [Frank] Capra, Elia Kazan, and the Coen brothers, and they always have these very compelling characters that tend to be very tragic. But you also like seeing them. You love seeing Steve Buscemi shoot that guy in the parking lot in Fargo, even though it's such a fucked-up thing. That's the way a lot of these characters are in my music. And even though now and again there's a beaver or Tommy the Cat that's a little more lighthearted, there's always this tragic undertone to all of them.

"With this new record, there's a lot of shit going on in my life. My mom is on her way out right now. She's got this disease that's affecting her nervous system, and it's really hard to watch. Plus, my brother's little baby boy was diagnosed with leukemia earlier this year. So that's where 'Tragedy's a' Comin" comes from. But the music itself is so lighthearted and 'up' that it's a contradiction."

Contradiction of a different sort has also become a staple element of the live show. When Primus initially broke up in 2000, the band was sharply defined by its progressive tendencies. Like Rush, a group that has exerted a huge and obvious influence, Primus had up to that point flexed its musicianship predominantly in the context of music that held to a rigid structure. But when the band returned to the stage in 2003, it had expanded its approach to incorporate a high degree of improvisation. In retrospect, this makes sense given LaLonde's enduring affinity for Frank Zappa, whose music not only demanded technical mastery but also the ability to think and react on the spot. (For a glimpse into LaLonde's Zappa preferences, see the 2002 Rykodisc compilation Zappa Picks — by Larry LaLonde of Primus.)

Lane's working resume with members of the Grateful Dead, of course, only reinforces Primus' improvisational leanings. But it was Claypool's work in 2000-2001 with Phish bandleader Trey Anastasio and Police drummer Stewart Copeland in the group Oysterhead that inspired him to go further out on a limb.

"We've always had these elements within certain songs where we could stretch out," he explains. "But the Oysterhead thing blew the door wide open to the jam world for me. I didn't even know what the hell the 'jam' world was. Prior to that, I thought, 'I know Trey Anastasio and a couple of the guys in the Grateful Dead' — to me, that was the extent of the jam scene. Then I started to get asked to put together projects. I remember going to do the Oysterhead thing and Trey saying, 'Let's just write a bunch of songs on the spot.' I was like, 'What?' Stewart was even worse. He was like, 'What the hell are you talking about?! Oh, my god, we need to have a plan!' We got out there and we played that [debut] set at the Saenger Theatre [in New Orleans]. Parts of it were just a mess, a train wreck, but parts of it were so amazingly glorious. And it made me realize, 'You know what? These people want to see you take chances.'

"So when I came back in 2003, I had this renewed — well, not renewed, but this sense of 'hey, let's take some chances here. There's a whole group of people who don't want to see you play the song the same every night.' Not that we ever really did that, but in the early days of Primus, there was quite a long period there where we were doing half-hour, 45-minute sets, so there wasn't a whole lot of stretching going on. When we were doing our own tours, there was more stretching, but when we came back in '03, I was stretching out a lot. It definitely has evolved and helped the band evolve. It's also helped me as a player be way more comfortable with the notion of just going out and wingin' it."

On its current run of live dates supporting Green Naugahyde, Primus not only plays two sets but modifies each of the setlists nightly so that the show is never the same. Lane, Claypool says, lobbies most staunchly for the obscure stuff.

"Every night," Claypool says with a laugh, "Jay goes, 'Let's play this song!' and I'm like, 'We've only ever played that song once.' And he's like, 'Let's do it! Let's do "Del Davis Tree Farm."' I'm like, 'Dude, I don't even remember how to play that.' And he'll be like, 'Aw, come on!'"

Claypool ensures, though, that fans of hits and deep cuts alike will be happy.

"Basically," he adds, "we're going to be playing a shitload of music."

Bohren & Der Club of Gore: Beileid (Ipecac)

Bohren & Der Club of Gore: "Zombies Never Die (Blues)"

With a mutual background in hardcore, grind, and other forms of extreme music, the members of Bohren & Der Club of Gore formed to begin a new "doom/horror jazz" experiment.  But when the German quartet came into its own in the early 1990s, its sounds weren't the types of brooding metal or bloodcurdling film scores that one might imagine.  Instead, ominous bass lines, spooky organ tones, guitar reverberations, and somber, elongated melodies formed the bulk of the band's "doom" elements.

Beileid, the group's latest, continues in the tradition of Twin Peaks- and Angelo Badalamenti-esque creepiness with deliberate tempos and jazzy intonations.  Vibraphone, Mellotron, and sax again build the slow-moving atmosphere in three lengthy tracks, the second of which is a darkened take on the song "Catch My Heart" by 1980s German hair-metallers Warlock.  At two-and-a-half times the length of the original, "Catch My Heart" is the balladic middle section of this 35-minute triptych, and it finds the incomparable Mike Patton turning the tones of Warlock lead singer Dorothee Pesch into deep vibratos.

The two originals stand out as well, but with melodies that feel like they're at quarter-speed, listeners require either patience or a love of unfolding ambience.

Pillars & Tongues: The Pass and Crossings (Endless Nest / Empty Cellar)

Pillars & Tongues: "The Making Graceful"

Led by interwoven, trance-inducing vocal dynamics and spiritual folk/chamber instrumentation, Pillars & Tongues achieves a surprising amount of power for merely a trio.  And thanks to the Chicago group's tireless touring schedule, underground explorers around the country have taken to its style, one that produces a great number of sonic textures.

With The Pass and Crossings, the trio again builds from the bellowing vocals of singer/percussionist Mark Trecka, the swirling melodies of violinist Beth Remis, and the bowed swells of upright bassist Evan Hydzik.  Harmonies, long-form repetitions, and sparse beats are crucial to the album's moments of buildup and release.  The result is a sonic spell, waiting to enchant those who hear it.

Thievery Corporation: Culture of Fear (ESL)

Thievery Corporation: "Culture of Fear" f. Mr. Lif

DJs Rob Garza and Eric Hilton comprise Thievery Corporation, a politically outspoken dub/lounge duo that has built a name for itself in Washington, DC with its world- and trip-hop-infused sounds.

Over the years, the two have incorporated a slew of politically minded collaborations into their albums.  The first on Culture of Fear features rapper and Def Jux alum Mr. Lif on the title track, which derides a never-changing security-alert system, the widening reach of the digital world, and shady bank loans.

Most of the duo's political messaging is left to interviews and guest spots, but song titles often hint at deeper issues or themes, and Culture of Fear does so with "Tower Seven" and "False Flag Dub."

Musically, the album is a bit more focused than some of its far-reaching predecessors, leaning on airy jams and minimalist bass grooves.  But it's still a down-tempo and occasionally funky and jazzy lounge mix, with sultry dub and trip-hop concoctions for other guest vocalists.  It's a mixture that doesn't grow tired despite the duo's many years together.

Ancestors: Invisible White EP (Tee Pee)

Ancestors: "Invisible White"

Ancestors has a flair for the epic. You likely won’t find the progressive LA band making a standard 12-track record full of four-minute songs with traditional song structures. Its 2008 debut, Neptune With Fire (profiled here), wove together the fantastical storytelling of a band like Rush with modern doom metal.

And though its new album, Invisible White, adheres to that same slow-burning, long-form formula, it marks a distinct departure into more mellow, experimental territory, à la Pink Floyd. The three-song EP kicks off with the title track, a lilting, acoustic-guitar-and-piano dirge that introduces each new instrument with measured deliberation — violin, drums, organ — and culminates in a moving lament of the elusive “Invisible White.”

Ultimately, Ancestors is driven by the credo “play the kind of music you’d want to hear,” and venturing into previously unexplored territory seems as effortlessly rote as putting a new record on the turntable.

- Text by Kyle Gilkeson.

Honorable Mentions

The Atomic Bitchwax: The Local Fuzz (Tee Pee)

Ramin Djawadi: Game Of Thrones soundtrack (Varèse Sarabande)

Arnold Dreyblatt: Resonant Relations (Cantaloupe)

Handsome Furs: Sound Kapital (Sub Pop)

Jolie Holland: Pint of Blood (Anti-)

Isis: Live III 12.17.04

The Laureates: Spells

Sbtrkt: s/t (Young Turks / XL)

See-I: s/t (Fort Knox)

White Wives: Happeners (Adeline)

YACHT: Shangri-La (DFA Records)

Ancestors: "Neptune With Fire"

Sometimes things just seem too obvious. When Los Angeles five-piece Ancestors formed in 2006, its members were surprised that they couldn’t pinpoint a band that already had melded '70s progressive rock with the stoner/doom metal that erupted out of California during the 1990s. Regarding that, guitarist and lead singer Justin Maranga says, “They seem to go hand in hand, to the point where we were kind of shocked no one had combined them before, and we were wondering when someone was going to beat us to it.” But the band wasn’t devised with the intent to pioneer any particular new sound. Maranga puts it simply: “The important thing is to play the kind of music you’d want to hear.”

Along with Maranga, Ancestors includes bassist Nick Long, drummer Brandon Pierce, organist J. Christopher Watkins, and chief lyricist and ambient-noise expert Chico Foley, a London-by-way-of-Berlin transplant. Their two-song, nearly forty-minute debut, Neptune With Fire, is filled with dramatic twists and turns, sprawling guitar solos, and on the title track, a four-part narrative depicting a mythological King Neptune wrestling with the burden that comes with having unlimited power.

Maranga maintains that the band is suited by the style, which is partially inspired by Foley’s early observations upon relocating to Los Angeles. “We’re all fans of nerdy storytelling music,” Maranga says. “The traditional epic — Rush’s Hemispheres, King Crimson — I think that the music was begging for that kind of lyric.” Foley adds, “A whimsical style wouldn’t really go with our sound.”
 

“We’re all fans of nerdy storytelling music.  The traditional epic — Rush’s Hemispheres, King Crimson — I think that the music was begging for that kind of lyric.”

Ancestors' members long have been familiar faces at all-ages, vegan-friendly arts space The Smell, which is quickly building a national reputation, if not international, as a hub for up-and-coming, unique artists. “It’s one of the best DIY venues in the world,” Foley says. “In comparison with London, there is no way you can find a place to put on a DIY show. The police here really don’t give a shit about what goes on downtown.”

“That kind of ethic really appeals to people,” Maranga says. “It’s why venues like [legendary San Francisco Bay-area punk club] Gillman Street has held up over the years. People like the way it can be self-run, the way bands are picked, and the fact that bands can just go and play. People don’t like rules and being told what to do.” An added bonus is that bands are able to introduce their music to audiences that may not typically seek out metal or prog-rock groups on their own. “We’ve played shows with bands that we don’t fit so well with musically,” Maranga says, “but we’re all being influenced by the same stuff in different ways, and that somehow appeals to the same crowd.”

A distribution SNAFU delayed the release of Neptune with Fire in the United States until Fall 2008, but the album had been available for purchase in Europe for several months prior. In the meantime, Ancestors has been hard at work developing new material. “There is going to be less mythological premise, and a more humanized context of you and me as opposed to story," Foley says. "The last album was us becoming us, and now we are beginning to fulfill our potential."

In an interview conducted on A&M Records' Hollywood lot around the release of Soundgarden's pivotal 1991 album, Badmotorfinger, bandleader Chris Cornell summed up the iconic Seattle quartet's approach to working in the studio: "We've always been looking to capture what we sound like live on tape. I think that's what most rock bands try for — and that's probably most rock bands' biggest problem when it comes to recording a record."

It was a curious statement considering that, if anything, Soundgarden had the opposite problem. Known for its signature brand of heaving, de-tuned muscularity, Soundgarden also played a counterbalancing sense of agility to supreme advantage on record. In concert, however, the band routinely stumbled, more weighed down than liberated by its own bulk, to say nothing of the fact that Cornell had trouble matching the piercing wail of his studio vocals.

Fortunately, Soundgarden's onstage flaws recede to the background on this newly assembled live album. Comprised of recordings from a string of West Coast dates in November and December of 1996, Live on I-5 reveals that Soundgarden, captured here just months before breaking up, was a surprisingly limber and inventive unit. Unbeknownst to the band members themselves — or to recording engineer Adam Kasper, who also manned the boards for Soundgarden's final studio album, Down on the Upside — these performances would be Soundgarden's last in the continental USA.

But Cornell, lead guitarist Kim Thayil, bassist Ben Shepherd, and drummer Matt Cameron hardly come off as the road-weary bunch of malcontents that their own first-hand accounts paint them out to be. (Shepherd infamously stormed off stage at the band's final show; Cameron described shows from this period as "increasingly bad" to Grunge is Dead author Greg Prato; and Thayil makes reference to heavy drinking and "unpredictable temperament" in the liner notes.)

What perhaps saves Live on I-5 from typical live-album pitfalls is that Thayil, Cameron, and Kasper specifically selected performances for their spontaneity and deviations from the original studio versions. "Slaves and Bulldozers," for example, is a song that originally was permeated with a sense of pent-up frustration about to erupt into violence. In this new form, the song is reinvented as slinky, slow-simmering blues rock. Likewise, the band recasts the shimmering, trance-like psychedelia of "Searching With My Good Eye Closed" as a fuzzed-out, big-bottomed arena-rock barn-burner that may as well have been recorded in 1973.

Viewed from fresh angles such as these, many of the songs become compelling in all new ways. And, aside from an obligatory number or two (the groove of "Outshined," for instance, sounds utterly flattened), the track listing also boasts a generous helping of deep cuts.

Hardcore fans will immediately notice that nothing from early albums Ultramega OK or Louder than Love made the final cut, but several other surprises help mitigate those omissions, and the running order nonetheless achieves an impressive sprawl. Cornell's voice is, to say the least, not in perfect condition, but his weary croak contains one of the keys to this album's charm. Strangely, the clear, almost pristine sound quality allows for a high-resolution image of the band's rough edges. As the album progresses, it seems increasingly unlikely that anything was overdubbed or "fixed" after the fact.

And, like the crop of classic, staunchly imperfect live albums from the 1970s (Aerosmith's Live Bootleg, Rush's All the World's a Stage, etc.), Live on I-5 ultimately is lovable for being exactly what it is. If any complaint is to be made, it's that Cornell's rhythm guitar is brighter in the mix than Thayil's — which is highly unfortunate, especially considering that Thayil himself supervised the project. His leads cut through the loudest, however, and the entire band's chemistry comes to the foreground in ways that none of the studio albums ever really conveyed. We tend to think of Soundgarden as heavy and precise, a kind of high-performance juggernaut. Here, the band sounds loose and easy without losing its footing.

It's impossible to gauge what the impact of this album would have been had it come out as planned in 1997. Perhaps it would have registered as just another blip in Soundgarden's career trajectory, a rote stop-gap to fill time between studio albums. And though arriving as it is, 14 years after the fact, makes the release of Live on I-5 a thrilling event unto itself, any electricity that's discernible in the music can't necessarily be attributed to nostalgia alone. The master tapes of the recordings were never actually mixed — and hadn't been heard by anyone in the band — until last year. Whether it's a stretch to say that one can hear the band members' excitement over revisiting their legacy, the very fact that Live on I-5 isn't a document of a band nosediving toward implosion makes it worthy of celebration.

In fact, Live on I-5 makes it clear that Soundgarden's demise was all too abrupt. Though the recent announcement of a return to the studio certainly is big news, the band may never again display this much ragged power.

Note: Five soundcheck recordings are included as iTunes-only bonus tracks with pre-orders. (A sixth, additional bonus track, "Blow Up the Outside World," is included with pre-orders directly from the Soundgarden website and was not available to ALARM at press time.) Minus a completely disposable Doors cover, the song selection — deep-album cuts from Badmotorfinger and Upside — is enough to make a dedicated fan drool. But the extra tracks amount to a mixed blessing at best. Though the idea of hearing the band play to empty houses is intriguing, the emphasis on acoustic echo sounds exaggerated.

Ultimately, this bonus material falls much closer to the despondent performances from the same period that litter YouTube. Like "Outshined," the rhythmic shape of "Room a Thousand Years Wide" comes across as cardboard thin compared to the original, and Cornell's voice sounds tattered beyond repair. Those who suspected that Soundgarden was past its peak in 1996 need only point to this these recordings for validation, and all are advised to stick to the main album.

Download the podcast for This Week’s Best Albums: February 8, 2011 and subscribe to This Week’s Best Albums for free with iTunes.

Stream the podcast for This Week's Best Albums: February 8, 2011.
This Week\'s Best Albums: February 8, 2011

Wires Under Tension: Light Science (Western Vinyl)

Wires Under Tension: "Electricity Turns Them On"

Light Science is the exciting debut from Wires Under Tension, a duo comprised of violinist/multi-instrumentalist Christopher Tignor and drummer Theo Metz.  With help from a few friends, including Jared Bell of Lymbyc Systym, the two combine live performance with electronic manipulation, sounding something like a progressive Dirty Three with horns, hip-hop beats, and post-rock guitar swells.

This seven-track release is a dense, fluid collection that retains consistency thanks to Metz’s steady rhythms.  Electro-mechanical piano, clavinet, and synthesizers mesh with loops and samples to round out an impressive first release — one that also features a standout non-album bonus cut called "Bronx Science." The song is actually a remixed rendition of "Wood, Metal, Bone" from Light Science, and it’s sort of representative of the two members’ ethos: reinventing what’s possible with certain instruments or within a given paradigm.

…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead: Tao of the Dead (Richter Scale Records / Superball Music)

…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead: "Weight of the Sun"

There has been no shortage of grand themes and allegories in the canon of Austin post-punk quintet …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. The band’s newest album, however, better matches its ambitious themes with its music, presenting an epic pair of pieces for Tao of the Dead.

Split into two parts and two tunings (the first in eleven “chapters” in D and the second as a 16-minute closer in F), the album recalls progressive albums of yore, from the likes of Rush and King Crimson, but channels them into easily digested movements. Stretches of heavy distortion and drum thrashing will appeal to the more metal-minded Trail of Dead fans, but there’s also plenty of hook-laden, radio-ready alternative rock.

The band returned to a four-piece for this recording, as opposed to recent lineups that have included three guitars, bass, keyboards, and two drum kits.  The album keeps the band’s flourishes and sidesteps, but it’s also a straightforward and fuzz-heavy set that seems to reflect the smaller roster.

Joan of Arc: Oh Brother (Joyful Noise)

Joan of Arc: "Oh Brother #2" (nine-minute excerpt)

Chicago’s Joan of Arc has always relished being one of the most unconventional and experimental bands that just barely remains under the “indie rock” umbrella.  Championed by Cap’n Jazz ringleader Tim Kinsella, the project has involved a rotating cast of members and collaborators and has evolved from quirky, emotive tunes to anything-goes rock experimentalism.  The group released a studio album called Live in Chicago, 1999 (pronounced “liv”) as well as a live album called Live in Muenster, 2003 – and it released an entire album of randomized guitar duets featuring ex-Joan of Arc guitarists, totaling 10 musicians in all.  So the description of “unconventional” might be putting it lightly.

The group’s latest is another strange release: four different mixtures of the same four incomplete albums, each clocking in at 20 minutes.  Titled Oh Brother, the limited-edition double LP features a different mix on each side, compiled from unfinished material from four of Kinsella’s casual collaborations.  Each long track achieves great diversity thanks to the mix of melody, trance-inducing repetition, and rhythmic convergence, topped with a heaping dose of background noise and ambience.  But it also achieves this due to the disparate personnel, including guest musicians Zach Hill of Hella, Rob Lowe of Lichens, local jazz drummer Frank Rosaly, and former/current Kinsella collaborators Nate Kinsella and Sam Zurick.

Honorable Mentions

Akron/Family: S/T II: The Cosmic Birth and Journey of Shinju TNT (Dead Oceans)

The Asteroid #4: Hail To The Clear Figurines (The Committee to Keep Music Evil)

Cut/Copy: Zonoscope (Modular Records)

Esben and The Witch: Violet Cries (Matador)

Praxis: Profanation: Preparation for a Coming Darkness (M.O.D. Technologies)

La Resistance: Philosophy (Superphonic Records)

The Sway Machinery: The House of Friendly Ghosts Vol. I (JDub)

Hard-hitting jazz trio The Bad Plus knows how to pen pieces of proprietary gold. But its three members are also known for their genre-leaping renditions of rock songs, propelled by the chops of pianist Ethan Iverson, bassist Reid Anderson, and drummer David King. Here are the group's ten best covers (in order of release).

1. Nirvana: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" (These Are the Vistas)

This cover of Nirvana's massive hit features super-scaling runs and occasionally dissonant harmonies from Anderson in one of the final choruses. It ends brilliantly with the quick piano tinkling of Cobain's famed bridge: "And I forget just what it takes, and yet I guess it makes me smile. I found it hard; it's hard to find. Oh well, whatever…never mind."

2. Aphex Twin: "Flim" (These Are the Vistas)

The original version of "Flim" caught some listeners off guard on the Come to Daddy EP, what with its pretty piano line that evoked thoughts of Willy Wonka's "Pure Imagination." This rendition brings Richard D. James' IDM beats to life under the melodic synchronization of Iverson and Anderson.

3. Ornette Coleman: "Street Woman" (Give)

Coming as a rare occasion, The Bad Plus cover a fellow artist in its genre – and a revered one at that. Originally from Coleman's 1971 album Science Fiction, "Street Woman" is bouncy, heavy, cheerful, and threatening – all while skillfully alternating rhythms.

4. Pixies: "Velouria" (Give)

If you're not looking at the track listing to Give, you'll have no idea that you're hearing a Pixies song until near the two-minute mark. This version begins soft and somber, spreading out Charles Thompson's melody over King's distant jingling and tapping. After the early minutes of building, King breaks into a rock beat for some of Iverson's mean improvisation.

5. Black Sabbath: "Iron Man" (Give)

After you hear The Bad Plus' rendition of "Iron Man," you won't go back. Far heavier than the original, this version cracks into full gear when Iverson's low notes thunder over his down-trickling scales, which come raining ominously from the intro. Iverson again grabs the attention over King's heavy beats, layering together chordal harmonies of Tony Iommi's famous progression. For the outro, the group employs a gentle quarter-time interpretation of the original's awesome ending.

6. "(Theme From) Chariots of Fire" (Suspicious Activity?)

Anderson's grooving bass line clashes nicely as Iverson brings in the song's inspirational melody. A free-jazz breakdown follows before Iverson resumes the theme over wildness from the rhythm section.

7. Radiohead: "Karma Police" (Exit Music: Songs with Radio Heads)

Soft brush strokes from King lay a delicate setting for the trio's homage to Radiohead. After some loose rhythms under the main melody, the song gets huge when the piano returns with Thom Yorke's "for a minute there…I lost myself" vocal theme. Iverson also handles the original's walking bass line while King plays freeform beats.

8. Rush: "Tom Sawyer" (Prog)

The poster child for radio-friendly prog rock, "Tom Sawyer" gets one of the most "authentic" replications from The Bad Plus. Iverson and Anderson trade off handling Geddy Lee's vocals on their respective instruments, but they can't hold out forever – like clockwork, the tune punches in an improvised break before resuming its course.

9. Burt Bacharach / Hal David: "This Guy's in Love With You" (Prog)

Faith No More also presented a live cover of this chart-topping Herb Alpert song, and though this can't quite compare to one with Mike Patton's emotive vocals, it's just as sensitive as both versions. Randomly, it closes with a quick reprise of the main rhythm from "Physical Cities," an original Bad Plus tune that comes earlier on Prog.

10. Neil Young: "Heart of Gold"

Without a released recording of Neil Young's classic hit, The Bad Plus saves "Heart of Gold" for concertgoers. It often begins with an abstract intro and ends with the three joining together for a harmonized a cappella chorus.

– Scott Morrow

The Bad Plus: www.thebadplus.com
Heads Up International: www.headsup.com

Fortunately, the band had some friends on which to lean, including drummer Chris Pennie, who was part of East Coast math-core pioneers The Dillinger Escape Plan. Sanchez notes that Pennie was instrumental in the unique, long-distance demoing process. “It was a very interesting and efficient way, but something we hadn’t been used to,” says Sanchez. “I was stripping these songs and sending them to Chris over the Internet. He’d put drums to them and send them back. It really fleshed out the songs, and we had some pretty strong demos before entering the studio.”

With a new lease on the band’s success, Coheed and Cambria opted to change its production team of the past three albums by enlisting Nick Raskulinecz, whose credits include the Foo Fighters and Rush.

“We had done three records with the same production team, and I got to the point where I felt like I was ready to produce an album,” says Sanchez. “Management suggested Nick. So we flew him out and sat down with him, and he just seemed like a really nice guy, like one of the fellas.”

Sanchez says that working with Raskulinecz brought several new aspects of the album-making process to the table, including song length and instrumentation. “One of the songs that it really shows is on ‘Mother Superior,’” he says. “When I originally wrote it, it was more of a synth-based song. Nick came out and said that the guitar is the stronger root of this song and felt that it should shine more. That’s a good reflection of what’s he’s capable of doing.”

However, a few days before Coheed and Cambria entered the studio, Pennie couldn’t perform on this album as an artist, due to his prior contractual agreement (Pennie is now with Coheed as a full-time member). So the band fell back on one of Raskulinecz’s friends, the Foo Fighters’ Taylor Hawkins, as their studio drummer.

“We’re all fans of the Foo Fighters, so we thought that would make sense,” says Sanchez. “Taylor went off of Chris’ template, but at the same time, sprinkled some ‘Taylor sprinkles’ on the song.” “When we flew out, we had about a week of pre-production,” he adds. “Each day we’d focus on three songs, and he pretty much fit right in. Also, he had this lovable personality, especially for us, seeing as we had lost members and the new member couldn’t make the record. He fit right in and put everyone at ease. We struck gold with Taylor.”

Todd eventually rejoined Sanchez and Stever. The foursome began tracking the final chapter in its concept album series, Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume Two: No World for Tomorrow, at the Pass in L.A. Sanchez says the new West Coast scenery made for a refreshing change.