Múm - Yesterday Was Dramatic - Today Is OK (2000)

1. I'm 9 Today
2. Smell Memory
3. There Is a Number of Small Things
4. Random Summer
5. Asleep on a Train
6. Awake on a Train
7. Ballad of the Broken Birdie Records
8. Ballad of the Broken String
9. Sunday Night Just Keeps on Rolling
10. Slow Bicycle

- Indie Electronic
- Electronica

Review:

Iceland's Múm proves to be as successful at creating emotional ambient electronic music as they are at posing for album covers (the twin sisters in the band appeared on the sleeve of Belle & Sebastian's Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant). Yesterday Was Dramatic — Today Is OK blends equal parts early Aphex Twin atmosphere, glitchy clicks reminiscent of Autechre, and dramatic musical elements that evoke the sorrow and glory of compatriot's Sigur Rós. Múm allow their songs to stretch out into lush, lengthy arrangements as a synthetic accordion mingles with rolling beats, icy analog effects, beeping instruments that recall some fantastic Disney ride, and the occasional female voice humming or singing quietly. Melodicas, glockenspiels, and other exotic instruments spur recurring motifs of sadness and joy. When the album isn't operating as a perfect postmodern lullaby, Múm is at work crafting memorable melodies. "Awake on a Train" is typical of the startling beauty the band achieves throughout the album, as tinkering keyboards and a lone voice work as aural tearjerkers. "The Ballad of the Broken Birdie Records" suggests what the pairing of Cocteau Twins and Mike Paradinas might have sounded like, as throbbing, hazy electronics lean against haunting vocals. "Sunday Night Just Keeps on Rolling" brings to mind tiny ships sounding off to each other across a sea of flowing lava. Though the album is modern in its inception, the music is effortlessly timeless and thoroughly engrossing. Yesterday Was Dramatic — Today Is OK is an unmitigated, accessible masterpiece.

Joanna Newsom - The Milk-Eyed Mender (2004)

1. Bridges And Baloons
2. Sprout And The Bean
3. The Book Of Right-On
4. Sadie
5. Inflammatory Writ
6. This Side Of The Blue
7. 'En Gallop'
8. Cassiopeia
9. Peach, Plum, Pear
10. Swansea
11. Three Little Babes
12. Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie

- Singer / Songwriter
- Indie

Review:

Classically trained harpist Joanna Newsom uses her appreciation of Appalachian folk and bluegrass for an oddly alluring set of indie rock melodies. Milk-Eyed Mender, which follows her homemade EP releases Walnut Whales and Yarn and Glue, is rich in harvest colors. Newsom's childlike voice brings an unstudied grace to an innocent setting of songs, and such quirkiness is hard to find among most guitar-driven indie acts. From the more whimsical moments of "Peach, Plum, Pear" and "Inflammatory Writ" to the dovelike ballad "This Side of the Blue," Newsom welcomes the listener to sink into its imagination. Delicate harp arrangements are nicely sprinkled among specks of pianos, organs, and a harpsichord, only adding to the fascination that is Milk-Eyed Mender. Some may find the album to be overly sweet in spots due to Newsom's girlish voice; however, the fairytale-like appeal of Milk-Eyed Mender is far too intriguing to dismiss. Newsom exists in several musical spheres, one being a member of the Pleased, while not forgetting how wonderful it is to live in a warm place that leaves you bright-eyed and hopeful for only what is good in life.

Arcade Fire - Funeral (2004)

1. Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)
2. Neighborhood #2 (Laika)
3. Une Annee Sans Lumiere
4. Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)
5. Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)
6. Crown Of Love
7. Wake Up
8. Haiti
9. Rebellion (Lies)
10. The Backseat

- Indie Rock
- Post-Rock/Experimental

Review:

Fronted by the husband-and-wife team of Win Butler and Régine Chassagne, the Arcade Fire's emotional debut — rendered even more poignant by the dedications to recently departed family members contained in its liner notes — is brave, empowering, and dusted with something that many of the indie-rock genre's more contrived acts desperately lack: an element of real danger. Funeral' s mourners — specifically Butler and Chassagne — inhabit the same post-apocalyptic world as London Suede's Dog Man Star; they are broken, beaten, and ferociously romantic, reveling in the brutal beauty of their surroundings like a heathen Adam & Eve. "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," the first of four metaphorical forays into the geography of the soul, follows a pair of young lovers who meet in the middle of the town through tunnels that connect to their bedrooms. Over a soaring piano lead that's effectively doubled by distorted guitar, they reach a Lord of the Flies-tinged utopia where they can't even remember their names or the faces of their weeping parents. Butler sings like Radiohead 's Jonny Greenwood used to play, like a lion-tamer whose whip grows shorter with each and every lash. He can barely contain himself, and when he lets loose it's both melodic and primal, like Berlin-era Bowie or British Sea Power. "Neighborhood #2 (Laïka)" examines suicidal desperation through an angular Gang of Four prism; the hypnotic wash of strings and subtle meter changes of "Neighborhood #4 (7 Kettles)" winsomely capture the mundane doings of day-to-day existence; and "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)," Funeral's victorious soul-thumping core, is a goose bump-inducing rallying cry centered around the notion that "the power's out in the heart of man, take it from your heart and put it in your hand." The Arcade Fire are not bereft of whimsy. "Crown of Love" is like a wedding cake dropped in slow motion, utilizing a Johnny Mandell-style string section and a sweet, soda-pop stand chorus to provide solace to a jilted lover yearning for a way back into the fold, and "Haiti" relies on a sunny island melody to explore the complexities of Chassagne's mercurial homeland. However, it's the sheer power and scope of cuts like "Wake Up" — featuring all 15 musicians singing in unison — and the mesmerizing, early- Roxy Music pulse of "Rebellion (Lies)" that make Funeral the remarkable achievement that it is. These are songs that pump blood back into the heart as fast and furiously as it's draining from the sleeve on which it beats, and by the time Chassagne dissects her love of riding "In the Backseat" with the radio on, despite her desperate fear of driving, Funeral's singular thread is finally revealed; love does conquer all, especially love for the cathartic power of music.