While 1 January 2000 crept up on us well-announced, the Y2K bomb we feared it carried failed to materialize; an empty threat. In Seattle, watching midnight turn over a new millennium on a small, fuzzy black-and-white television was so anticlimatic that it proved embarrassing. Mayor Schell banned any proper city celebration and street partying because he had the WTO blues and so, nestled among the Technicolor warmth of fellow eP staffers, I watched the nuptials of a new era announce itself with a toothless whimper. Did anyone even dare catch the bouquet? I've sneezed epiphanies that sounded louder than this.

Forced to climb out of the bunker and face the light of Day One of another average year, with the realization that my prized bunker music was about as valuable now as Confederate war bonds, I set out to find the music that would make up for such a lacking New Year's, splitting my year between the East and West Coasts. The journey proved far more fulfilling than anticipated and more than made up for the fading memory of that long-ago night.

In no particular order:

• DJ Krush @ Bowery Ballroom (17 June 2000).
  Click here for the live review.

  One of the great things about Earpollution is how much you become exposed to the influences of its writers. The musical taste and diversity here is what every record store's listening station should be about. Reading everyone's reviews each month has forced me to create a rather large "wish list" of sounds I might not otherwise have noticed and, as such, has made me first and foremost an avid reader of eP. Case in point: DJ Krush.

  Since Marky Mark loaned me his entire Krush collection two years ago, I've been anxiously waiting to catch the minimalist art of this Japanese turntablist in its proper element: onstage in front of a crowded club. The chance came as Krush swung through New York in June on a short U.S. tour. Even with such high anticipation, Krush still blew away all my expectations and created a musical experience that transcended the moment and swept me away to another realm entirely. There is no separation between Krush and his turntables--they are one and the same. Delicate and nimble, fused at both heart and soul, the poetry Krush speaks through them is uncompromised beauty; the night a high to be well remembered and long treasured.

• Juno @ Bumbershoot 2000.
  Click here to read our Bumbershoot 2000 feature

  I have two distinct memories that bookmark Juno's set at this year's Bumbershoot festival: The first is of singer Arlie Carstens getting up onstage before the band began playing and patiently, passionately explaining to a packed all-ages audience inside the Bumberclub what the Seattle City Council-approved All Ages Dance Ordinance (AADO) was and what Mayor Paul Schell's veto of the well-crafted ordinance meant for music on all levels in Seattle. After explaining at length the fine print of the politics at play here, Carstens then coaxed the audience into shouting "Fuck you, Paul Schell!" in front of cameras that were broadcasting the performance across the Internet to points far and wide.

  The second memory is a vivid mental snapshot of Carstens after a fiery version of Juno's closing number, "January Arms." On his knees, slumped over his guitar for several minutes afterwards, gasping in exasperation as sweat poured over his body, riding the fine line between ecstasy and agony. The house lights came up, Carstens' bandmates began packing up, but there he still sat: eyes closed, completely enveloped in the intense grip of whatever muse he'd been channeling throughout the set. The space in-between? The sounds of a band painting a deep ocean of dreamscapes. Underneath the waves of guitar and rhythmic tidal currents, the diffused light of the songs' despairing lyrics. "The caustic heartbreak," as eP's Mark Teppo so succinctly put it, "of a man losing an argument with himself."

• Pitchshifter.
  Click here to read the Pitchshifter interview.

  Funny enough, my travels this year just happened to coincide with a number of dates on Pitchshifter's tour schedule. Hrmm...coincidence? I was lucky enough to catch eP's fave techno/breakbeat punksters at places like Irving Plaza, CBGB and the amazingly beautiful Gorge in southwestern Washington, among other venues. We at Earpollution give a lot of ink to these Nottingham noiseniks, and with damn good reason. They put on a ferocious live show, and each new release finds these fearsome five pushing their creative boundaries as musicians and techno-anarchists. They have more than enough subversive intelligence to back up the breakneck breakbeats and heavy guitar riffage, and they just happen to be amazingly nice lads to boot! (Shhh...)

  With all they've got going for them, why then is it so nearly impossible for their labels to give them the due for which they've spent the past ten years hungrily working so hard? It will be a sad day when the mighty Shifter hang it up for good, and I guarantee you'll be sorry for not having taken the chance to see them perform. Remember how bad you felt when you found out Rage Against the Machine broke up and your stomach sunk as you realized you never saw them live? Yeah, well...think about it. Don't let Pitchshifter pass you by.

• Joseph Arthur @ The Knitting Factory (02 May 2000).
  Click here for the live review.

  This was the release party for Come to Where I'm From, with just Joseph Arthur, his acoustic (decorated by hand in aboriginal designs) and a handful (and footful) of effects. Surrounded by his paintings with the stage adorned in flowers, Arthur effortlessly performed stripped-down versions of his songs; his plaintive voice, somber lyrics and lanky form cut a cross betweenNick Drake and John Lennon. Tapping rhythms on the guitar and then dipping into his bag of effects to turn them into drum beats and bass lines to play against, it was an amazing night of watching both a gifted singer-songwriter and a musician who knows his craft--one who is skillfully adept at transforming the sounds in his head and heart into something that can be shared with everyone. A perfect moment. Time stopped and between songs you could hear the hearts of everyone in the audience beating against each other.

• Eels @ Bowery Ballroom (11 August 2000).
  Click here for the live review.

  An amazing set that found the Eels out supporting their latest release, Daisies of the Galaxy, the night included beat-style readings of Motley Crüe lyrics, pronouncements of "I'm the real Slim Shady!" and a top notch backing band. Whimsical music wrapped around lonesome lyrics, Eels' frontman E--attired in pajamas--didn't play music so much as he and his bandmates performed theater. A keeper for sure.

• Yo La Tengo, And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out.
  Click here for the album review.

  Yo La Tengo write music that is the soundtrack for our dreams. With the vocals of Ira Kaplan and wife Georgia Hubley becoming even more indistinguishable amidst the quiet bubble of longing guitars and soft hum of drums, this, their tenth album, finds them journeying ever inward into the sounds of the subconscious. Put this on and find where you've been going when you close your eyes at night.

• Cross My Heart, Temporary Contemporary.
  Click here for the album review.

  File under: Post-Breakup Medication for the Disillusioned and Broken Hearted.

• Sadhappy @ The Rainbow (15 January 2000).
  Click here for the live review.

  Little did I know that this would be the last time I'd see the duo of drummer Evan Schiller and bassist Paul Hinklin onstage under the Sadhappy moniker. For over ten years they've been creating a dense mix of heavy jazz, punk, drum 'n' bass and ambient stylings whose numbers have included local sax-monster Skerik and, for the past few years, bass supra-genius Michael Manring. This past summer Hinklin decided to leave the band (which, I have to say, is a bit strange as he was behind the creative wheel) and without his distinct playing and creative input it seems unlikely the band will continue. But then again, I've never been one to predict the future wholesale. One of the first bands I saw play when I arrived in Seattle, they have left an indelible musical impression that will be long remembered.

• Nels Cline and Gregg Bendian @ The Rainbow (26 February 2000).

  A night off for me, my only job this evening was to enjoy myself. Avant guitarist Nels Cline and jazz drummer Gregg Bendian were on hand to play John Coltrane's amazing final masterpiece, Interstellar Space, from start to finish. So dense and overwhelming, you have to swallow the music in pieces; take each riff, run and drum roll as individual bytes to be savored and not set them against the context of the song as a whole. Cline's amazing guitar playing is something that has to be experienced, as words will fail the listener every time. Close your eyes and you could feel the spirit of Coltrane hanging on every turn of phrase, every lick. Recorded four months before Coltrane would ultimately knowingly succumb to cancer, Interstellar Space are the sounds of a dying man making piece with God. Cline and Bendian didn't fail. Somewhere, Coltrane was quietly nodding in agreement.

• Peggy Green, Songs of Naka Peida.
  Click here for the album review.

  This is one of those things you can't explain to friends. Somehow the music strikes you just right and no matter how you try, you realize that no one will ever understand and you just have to accept its effect on you.

• PJ Harvey, Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea.
  Click here for the album review.

  Cue up the last track, "We Float," hit infinite repeat, and just let go...again and again and again and again.

• Queens of the Stone Age, "Feel Good Hit of the Summer." "Nicotine, valium, vicadon, marijuana, ecstacy and alchohol. C-c-c-c-c-cocaine!"

You know, I expected more from 2001, but like my grandfather used to say, "Spit in one hand, want in the other, and see which one gets filled faster." Well, consider this my few wants/expectations met list, now if you'll excuse me I have to get a mop and an industrial size shop-vac to clean up this pool in my living room.

In no particular order:

• Amel Larrieux, Infinite Possibilities. Pure neo-soul, artistry, and innovation; a little something for everyone. Great vocals.

• De La Soul, Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump. Hip-hop's yearly enema. See The Roots' Things Fall Apart CD for 1999's.

• Common, Like Water for Chocolate. Intelligent hip-hop, smart use of jazz and other assorted musical influences for a refreshing sound. Lyrics sharper and more penetrating than a hypodermic needle.

• Musiq Soulchild, Aijuswanaseing. If your hunger for R&B or soul music went unquenched by D'Angelo's Voodoo this will no doubt get the job done like a 24-hour soda fountain or bar.

• LL Cool J, G.O.A.T.: Greatest Of All Time. Takes balls to make the claim and talent to back it up; that annoying sound trucks make when they back up has been following LL around for months now.

• Richard Buckner, The Hill. Buckner's tragic roots vision collides with Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology and unlocks the haints from the hills.

• Primal Scream, XTRMNTR. A fucked-up, funky, ferocious, and fierce hailstorm in the face of mediocrity. "MBV Arkestra," mixed by My Bloody Valentine's Kevin Shields, is a defiant combination of free jazz, phat beats, and sonic riot. It's one of my favorite tracks of the year.

• Small Faces, The BBC Sessions: 1965-1968. The band that spawned Faces and Humble Pie was once a young mod group with tight R&B chops--as evidenced by these live selections. Steve Marriot, basically a kid here, is already a dynamic frontman. But why is the band's first keyboard player, Jimmy Winston, pictured on the cover when longtime member Ian MacLagan plays on most of the tracks? And why do they stick all of the interview clips and song intros together at the end of the CD?

• Kind of Like Spitting, Old Moon in the Arms of the New. This album contains the song "Dostoyevsky Gets Mugged Outside a Donut Shop in New Jersey," which, despite it's overreaching title, is actually a sweet little acoustic tune that sounds like a smart Evan Dando with his fingers taped together. Needless to say, it's one of my favorite songs of the year.

• The Stooges, 1970: The Complete Fun House Sessions. 30 takes of "Loose"... Right on, brother!

• Merle Haggard, If I Could Only Fly. Ironically, Merle had to go to punk label Epitaph to keep it real...real country that is. Hag's best effort in years.

• Damon and Naomi, With Ghost. These are the kind of people I would have hated in graduate school--they run a publishing company focusing only on avant-garde French literature. But their mood-pop vision, here buoyed by Japanese psych-folk masters Ghost, is hard to shake.

• Doves, Lost Souls. Epic, sweeping, fragile brilliance... Oh wait, I'm not a British rock scribe. Nevertheless, this is my vote for best debut of the year. Badly Drawn Boy, go stand in the corner.

• Laura Cantrell, Not the Tremblin' Kind. When we brought my infant daughter home from the hospital recently, this was the first album I played. Homey, clear-eyed country for bright rural kitchens or jukeboxes filled with Kitty Wells records.

• The Who, The BBC Sessions. I saw The Who at Madison Square Garden last month. No caricatured, shambling revival show like the Rolling Stones, they are still an edgy and powerful rock outfit. You could almost hear the sound of several thousand air-guitar cases unsnapping during the opening notes of the first number, "Can't Explain." The show only solidified my belief that they are one of the best of all time.

• Yo La Tengo - And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out. This'll be on a lot of people's list for 2000--and it's not even my favorite Yo La Tengo album. But anything this group does in any year is going to outclass most other efforts.

It's been a hell of a year. Going back over it all, I find the reflection a little displaced. I think I'll need a few more months to truly appreciate what all of this meant, and how this music played a part.

The first disc I'll mention is one that I didn't review, but one that affected me as much as anything I did. Furnace Room Lullaby by Neko Case and Her Boyfriends is about the most beautiful, startling thing I've heard from any woman not named Nicole Blackman. Just pure spitting country from the genre's most talented voice.

Next is an album that maybe doesn't belong because it was technically released last year, but 2000 was the year I found Dot Allison. Ms. Allison's subtle tendencies could make a few million Sarah McLachlan fans put Surfacing away for years if they knew about Afterglow.

Supermodified also deserves some cadence, being that Amon Tobin's latest album is pure crack cocaine in aural form. I'll even forgive him for letting BMW use "Get Your Snack On" in a recent commercial. Sometimes pimpin' is undeniable.

And yeah, Floater still has my keen attention. Burning Sosobra won't leave my player or my mind. Rob Wynia plays bass lines that should be researched to discover the scope of their altering effects on the mind, and guitarist Dave Amador's bag of magic tricks is second only to now unemployed Tom Morello.

My favorite album this year, however, was The Crybaby. The Melvins amassed the largest cast of guest stars, and didn't waste anyone's time in doing it. King Buzz didn't even have to sing a lick, and they still got me with a collection of songs that is at once horrifying and irresistible in its eclecticism and continued command of my discovery. One fact sums it up nicely: They get Leif Garrett to sing "Smells Like Teen Spirit," and it works.

Honorable restraint:

• In Gowan Ring, The Glinting Spade.
  
• The Freight Elevator Quartet, Becoming Transparent.
  
• The Deftones, White Pony.
  
• Neil Young, Silver & Gold.

Ah... The best and the rest of the year 2000. Well, uh, um, what the fuck can one say? The Y2K of music... Yes, one big money making spoof...err, rip-off. Our main man wanted me to come up with my ten albums for this year. My duty is clear, but how to find ten new items that have been playing in my deck... This was not an easy task I tell you. I looked in the stack that indicates the discs that have been on rotation for how long? Well, since I last put them back on the shelf.

Let me ask you, the music hungry reader, what the fuck is wrong with the state of music in the new millennium? Can anyone name ten bands over the last year that fucking meant something? Shit, you could talk to my colleagues Jeffy and Marky (who pretty much like anything that spins in their players) about this, but when you like food as much as you like music, then it could be about anything for them, I guess. With bands like Korn and Limp Bizkit, how the fuck could you go wrong?! Shit, we even have Britney Spears, which only sells because of her navel. If that isn't quality, I guess I need to rethink my musical options.

I have been very much against mainstream music for about 25 years, but the shit that is being released in all genres of my passion has left me feeling like the scorched earth policy. You know that feeling? It's kinda like driving through New Mexico, like there is nothing there. Everything has vanished, gone, and been bled dry, like Amebix's "I.C.B.M." lyrics from The Power Remains LP: "a silver express / through the valley of death / a cruise over land / to turn the fertile soil into sand." Yeah, Y2K summed up in four short lines! I kept pulling my favorite discs out only to find out they were released in 1999. "1999"--yeah, another shitty song written in the '80s by someone who goes by a fucking symbol as his name.

What is one to do in this sad musical society we live in? Yeah, I know: Dig deeper, find that hidden gem. It gets really tiring thumbing through piles of crap after piles of crap. Shit, who are the biggest bands around? What? Kid Rock or some has-been-come-lately Ricky Martin? Shit, did he even write any of his songs? Can anybody name me any band that has been around for ten-plus years and are still turning out records that mean something? Come on, try it, I bet you can't find much to chew on there!

Anyway, here's my short list:

• High on Fire, The Art of Self Defense. Yeah, it came out in 1999, but to hear and see them live is an incredible experience! They can skin the lenses off your eyes with their power. The best Black Sabbath rock yet!

• Turbonegro, Hot Cars and Spent Contraceptives. The best of the "Scandinavian Explosion"--period! No one can touch them and this re-release just proves how great this band was. None of those other bands can hold their sparklers in their asses the way Turbonegro can. If you like punk rock in the true sense of the music, buy all their releases.

  Click here to read my review from last month!

• The Saints, Wild About You - 1976-1978 Complete Recordings. If you young punks have not heard of this band, then get your drunken ass off the sidewalk and run to your local import store to buy this or their first two records. First-generation punk that blows the doors off the Sex Pistols. This shit shreds like early Black Flag!

• Darkseed, Diving into Darkness. I don't know why this is here, but to say that something about this disc made me keep playing it over and over. I played it so much my girlfriend likes it, which is hard to do. Catchy melodic metal that is very well written.

• Motörhead, The Best of Motörhead. Motörhead defined how metal was to be played, at extreme volume and intensity.

• The Damage Manual, The Damage Manual.
  
• Dr. Dre, Instrumentals Only.
  
• Deftones, White Pony.
  
• TRS-80, Manhattan Love Machine.
  
• Download, Effector.
  
• PJ Harvey, Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea.
  
• Madonna, Music.
  
• Pitchshifter, Deviant.
  
• Ween, White Pepper.
  
• Jurassic 5, Quality Control.
  
• Radiohead, Kid A.

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