Sunday 13 December 2009

The Imaginary Turn Up Album Awards

Generally, at Turn Up we are not producers of lists. You know the sort of thing; The Top 100 Greatest Guitarists Who Have Ever Lived or some such thing. They never include Mark Dawson and since Jimi is always number one (and rightly so) there seems little point in the exercise.

However, we thought you might be interested to contemplate a list of albums we have enjoyed this year. As we weren’t here last year, as a special festive bonus we’ll give you our rundown for 2008 as well. Let’s limit each list to 5 albums. We’ll ignore reissues, and concentrate mainly on studio albums, but not exclusively.

There are no specific categories, just a list. There's not really even a winner; they're all winners, or they wouldn't be mentioned. There is no awards ceremony, although that need not prevent you from indulging in one in your imaginary head. You are sat at a table at the far corner of the sumptuous ballroom between Lady Gaga and Florence Machine. I mean you’re hot, with the hottest people in your immediate vicinity. This means you must also be extremely cool. But it don’t mean you’re going to cut any ice round here, Sunshine. We’re not necessarily au courant.

A constant susurration of excited chatter floats across from neighbouring tables where the likes of Jimmy Page fend off Them Crooked Vultures as they circle the hors d’ouvres. An endless bottle of vintage St Emilion is available for your personal consumption as you contemplate the nominations. Knees are rubbed as if by accident. A drum roll.


2008.

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea by Silver Jews. Wonderfully suggestive songwriting, bursting with strange wit and wide-open skies.

Flight of the Conchords. Fabbo and funny in one package.

Sun Giant EP by Fleet Foxes. If you like your harmony on the wholesome side, this is for you.

Emma Forever Ago by Bon Iver. Introspective, but in a good way. Getting a grip, effectively.

22 Dreams by Paul Weller. For some of us, our first Weller album. A torrent of ideas, cohesive, professional, magnificently jobbed.


2009.

The Liberty of Norton Folgate by Madness. Possibly their finest, a cavalcade of London character, pinpoint observation, serious intent, and a great knees-up. (Florence, behave yourself!)

Where I Come From by New Riders of the Purple Sage. Whoda thunk it? NRPS come up with one of their best ever albums of entirely new originals after regrouping a couple of years ago following many years out of the saddle. Some great jamming songs. Quality of the Nelson/ Hunter songs unimpeachable. A great album to drive to. Sadly, John Dawson was too ill to participate and died earlier this year.

Together Through Life by Bob Dylan. Robert Hunter made a significant lyrical contribution to this one as well. A good muscular album that grows on you. Song titles don’t come much better than ‘Hell Is My Wife’s Home Town’, although on checking, it’s actually called ‘My Wife’s Home Town.’

We Used To Think The Freeway Was A River by Richmond Fontaine. I have previously mentioned the extensive Turn Up library. It also houses a large canyon of musical recordings. However, Richmond Fontaine had previously avoided our notice. This is subtle, beautifully crafted music with some unexpectedly sharp twists to the tail.

Let It Rock: The Jerry Garcia Collection Volume 2 by The Jerry Garcia Band. A live recording from 1975, but released recently. Luminous quality and amazing rapport between Garcia and Nicky Hopkins, whose guitar and piano entwine endlessly throughout. One of the greatest ever Garcia releases.

You sit at your table in disbelief at the antics going on around you. Your disbelief is tweaked on two accounts; unaccountably, you have won nothing, and neither has Mark Dawson. Frankly, the bugger would stand a better chance if he got off his arse and recorded something.

We are now entering the festive season proper, something that has not escaped the notice of the powers that be at Turn Up Towers. Jollity is creeping like a miasma into all aspects of our operations. At this rate we’ll be like helium balloons ready for the bursting by Boxing Day.

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