Last 7 Days

Last 7 Days (03/02/12)

Last 7 Days

Last 7 Days is a new series here on The Metronome that uses last.fm to chronicle the artists and albums that have made up the last week’s worth of listening for one of our staff members.



Spiritualized

(60 plays)

It started with a casual spin of Amazing Grace, but things took a sweet turn when an advanced copy of a certain forthcoming album touched down. For obvious reasons, I can only indulge so much about my top artist this week. But this much I will say: fans of Spiritualized will be very, very happy come mid-April.


My Morning Jacket

(40 plays)

The Tennessee Fire, Z, and Evil Urges all made it into rotation this week, which tends to be the way I listen to My Morning Jacket: in short spurts at a high volume. Maybe it was the uncharacteristically nice weather or the many hours I spent in the car this past weekend, but something about their sound — the big, Southern, stadium-ready anthems, the high energy, bombastic riffs, and the fragility so ripe on The Tennessee Fire — wouldn’t stop calling my name. It’s a shame I sold my old iPod and don’t connect my iPhone in my car, otherwise the numbers would have been a little higher.


Bob Dylan

(19 plays)

I listened to Together Through Life this week. Really, I did. Of course, I listened to Highway 61 Revisited this week too, but where’s the shock and awe in that? The truth is, so long as you aren’t seeing him live (unless you’re doing it for bucket list purposes, this is something you’ll want to avoid), Dylan’s recent output isn’t half bad. Together Through Life is a level or two below Modern Times, sure. But this week it served as a nice diversion from his classic records, which have propelled Dylan to fifth on my all-time most listened to artists chart.


Smile Empty Soul

(16 plays)

This is sort of a strange entry, no? To be honest, I don’t know what inspired me to pull out their 2003 self-titled debut (or pluck a couple tracks off 2005’s Anxiety), but I did. Seven or eight years ago, I actually quite liked these guys, even seeing them open up for another band on a tour that I can’t completely put my finger on (finger, finger… was it Finger Eleven?). Anyway, their lyrics are every bit as awful as I remember — or perhaps more so now that I’m no longer an angsty teenager and have grown into proper tastes — but, all indie rock elitism aside, the music itself is alright. You’ll probably never see these guys in my top artists again, but hey, that’s part of the fun.


Cloud Nothings

(15 plays)

I listened to Cloud Nothings’ first two albums, Turning On and last year’s self-titled, but I’d be lying if I said I remember the band’s aesthetics. For whatever reason, my memory chalked them up as another lo-fi, surfy garage rock band. But my peer group seemed to be especially smitten this week with their new record, Attack on Memory, so I checked it out. And I’m glad I did. It’s certainly an album that inspires going back to, which couldn’t be said of their previous releases. I’ve spun it twice in the last week and that’s certainly been enough to get me on their hook.


Nirvana

(13 plays)

Is it just me, or does Nevermind still — even after 20 years — sound like it was written and recorded last week? Of the albums I recall listening to as I first started to form my own tastes, there’s nothing else that holds up quite like it.


Feist

(12 plays)

Looking back on all of the many year-end lists from 2011, I can’t help but feel like Feist’s Metals got a little bit snubbed. We narrowly had it in our top-50, while Pitchfork omitted it from not just their primary retrospective, but from their overlooked records list as well. Surely there’s a list out there somewhere that got it right, but why did so many people miss the boat on this album? Each of its 12 songs have something to offer. Are people really that pressed on “1234”?


Band of Horses

(12 plays)

So maybe Infinite Arms isn’t the right album to finally base such a bold decision off of, but here it is: I don’t think I like Band of Horses very much. It wasn’t just re-playing their divisive 2010 album, either. I also turned on Everything All the Time not once, or twice, but three times in my car over the past week, only to move on before reaching its end. Maybe I’ve just been in a mood, but it certainly feels like a long-coming realization finally set in.