souvenirs i saved

Officer 1: "I wouldn't hold out much hope for the tape deck, though."

Officer 2: "Or the Creedence."

On the other hand, though, what an incredible lineup this is! After listening to these hits stacked up, one after another, I began to realize that I take The Cars for granted. So many of these gems are in constantly rotation on classic rock radio and variety stations alike, which dilutes their impact a bit. Sure, "Let's Go" is a fun track, but when sequenced between, say, the power pop glory of Cheap Trick's "Surrender" and the still-delightful (and kinda Cars-ish) "Your Love" by The Outfield," Ric Ocasek and co. sound a bit less singular. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sAm5UCJ9vA

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ExYsh1W22Wo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N1iwQxiHrs

But the pop brilliance on display across the twenty tracks comprising this "complete" best-of is astounding. Not only were The Cars consistent, but they're among the very best pop bands ever. Each song is a tight blend of killer riffs, energetic keyboards, and perfectly-timed backup vocals that punctuate Ocasek's dry and sardonic delivery.            

Sometimes I seem to forget just how talented certain acts are, and in this regard, perhaps the greatest hits album has a function besides providing casual listeners with a convenient one-stop destination (particularly in the pre-download era). These 80 solid minutes of peaks present a pretty forceful reminder of The Cars' continued relevance and generally terrific pop craftsmanship. 

There's something I just find irresistible about songs with sad-sounding synths from the 80s, and "Drive" remains perhaps my favorite single by The Cars: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFZmRVjUJnY

Featuring one of now-deceased Benjamin Orr's occasional turns at lead vocal, I can't help but be reminded of another bassist whose smooth voice similarly contrasted with his band's primary singer: Doug Yule on The Velvet Underground's Loaded. Although "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'" is quite distinct from "Drive," both tracks share a lovely melancholic vocal: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r7h3MXUHpgI

Might as well wrap this post up with another Cars' song, though. Here's the charmingly 80s video for "You Might Think":

So why was that tour more commendable than, say, The Rolling Stones’ “Forty Licks” tour, in which they promoted their newest best-of album by playing the greatest hits that they’ve been playing for decades? I don’t really think I can mount an airtight defense, but at least there’s something more transparent about a “classic-album-tour” than acts that simply play their radio hits as they sound on the radio. The album tour somehow feels celebratory, like an art or film retrospective making the rounds through numerous museums and movie theatres. 

Anyway, since this is the first of The Pixies that I’ve come across for this project, I couldn’t help but bring up when I saw them live last year. From what I recall, they also performed several tracks from Come On Pilgrim, their debut EP, including what may be my favorite Pixies song - “The Holiday Song”:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYK54vDeaUQ

The song’s barely over two minutes long, but I always feel like I’m getting a little something extra when Black Francis returns to the chorus at the 1:45 mark. I mean, he already bellowed “THIS AIN’T NO HOLIDAY” and now he’s going to sing it again all normal-like? Well, thanks. 

“Ed Is Dead” features another delightfully manic moment from Black Francis around 2:00 minutes in: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPRgSYm31bs

Everything slows to a near halt before erupting in sounds that resemble the “Ed. Is. Dead.” chant, but are basically monosyllabic grunting until Black Francis lets loose as only he can. 

Speaking of which, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention “Caribou,” the opening track on Come On Pilgrim, and one that sets the stage for The Pixies’ career. Slow-building and ominous, it’s got more of good ole Black Francis howling away. Listen once more, and don’t forget to repent afterwards: 

Hahahahaha! Hohoho! Sucker! Sucker! Ooooh, sucker!              

For nearly every album in their career, Radiohead have released an accompanying EP, which often merely collects the b-sides of the LP's singles. In this case, Com Lag includes live tracks, remixes, and alternate versions from Hail to the Thief, which now feels like something of a transitional album for Radiohead. After the experimentation of Kid A and Amnesiac, HTTT seems a bit overstuffed and underdeveloped. In fact, it remains their longest album, both in number of tracks and running time. So what to make of these leftovers from their most unwieldy album?

Given Radiohead's propensity for developing songs over an extremely extended period (I believe In Rainbows' "Nude," for instance, predates OK Computer from a decade earlier), perhaps it's not surprising that several of the studio tracks on Com Lag are more in line with The King of Limbs than either HTTT or In Rainbows. 

Give a listen to the jittery "Where Bluebirds Fly," which concludes Com Lag: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qtPe_SyZuM

Or "Paperbag Writer," a track that blends almost overwhelmingly tense atmospherics with a disarmingly bouncy bass line: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qKH5VwvnYA

Both tracks wouldn't feel out of place on TKOL, which includes songs that have a similarly stitched-together dynamic. Really, does either track feel much different than TKOL's "Feral" (a favorite of mine from an album on which I'm still a bit lukewarm): 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lajdqdCbvGY

Aside from the neurotic, glitchy tracks, Com Lag features a few somewhat "traditional" guitar-oriented songs that I just don't find as interesting: "I Am a Wicked Child" and "Gagging Order." Both are fine, but they're truly b-sides, rather than alternate paths that the band might have taken for the full-length album. 

Finally, I have to point out the lovely piano-only performance of the Amnesiac b-side, "Fog." For some reason, the live version is titled "Fog (Again)," and Yorke's vocals seem a bit sped-up, especially compared to the studio version. Still, it's a nice inclusion, given how distinct the two renditions are from one another. Here's the Com Lag version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPlDdaaE0DQ

And the studio version from the "Knives Out" single, which I prefer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxh5rq_CGJI

Hmm, "Led Zeppelin." I think I've heard of these guys - something about a groupie and shark meat? 

Honestly, the "classic" tag is a bit dubious - Prince of Darkness, anyone? - but this disc has some great stuff. John Carpenter's theme from Halloween lurks in all its glory just after Bernard Herrmann's assaultive Psycho score, complete with the shower scene's violent strings tacked on for good measure. Here's the still-unsettling Halloween music:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uu2igkV574I&feature=related

And a sample of Herrmann's truly classic work: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMTrVgpDwPk&feature=results_video&playnext=1&list=PLEBA8B58CA4EA00BF

I was especially delighted that this compilation included the eerie opening from The Shining, which quotes Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iw23KM3-Ry8

Beyond the theme from Prince of Darkness, the oddest inclusion is definitely what's supposed to be music from Friday the 13th. Instead of the expected "ki-ki-ki-ki, ma-ma-ma-ma," though, this loopy disco-esque theme from Friday the 13th Part 3 conjures up several meanings of camp:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODm01T3zY-w

Even more than other albums that I've revisited, this one really makes me feel nostalgic. Simply purchasing a CD such as this would constitute a willfully anachronistic act nowadays. In addition to feeling warm and fuzzy about physically buying the album, I fondly remember commandeering the CD player at an admittedly tiny and decidedly not-wild high school party in order to force the guests to listen to this music. Despite publicly flaunting my nerdiness and annoying everyone, I shockingly was able to date one of the girls in attendance for a couple of months afterwards. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbwZA503QRU

Yes, that's a terrible pun, but I thought it might distract from the 90s ska-tastic vocals, horns, and general jauntiness of MU330. Also, adding "ska" to normal words was a thing back then, you just wouldn't understand. Here's a live version of "Wide Awake" from 1995:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdZTGUbYfYA&feature=related

It's not really all bad, you know. I mean, what's wrong with adding a few horns to bouncy pop-punk tracks? Do you hate fun? At least MU330 weren't part of the 90s swing revival movement, of which I had several no albums. None. Nope, I definitely did not own a CD by the Cherry Poppin' Daddies and see them at the Warped Tour in 1998. 

Moving on, MU330 take their name from the high school music class in which the original band members met. When I was a director/DJ at KSLU, we brought MU330 to campus for a show, and they were really a nice bunch of guys. So even though the 90s ska sound doesn't appeal to me anymore, I was glad to revisit this album. If nothing else, it was a nice nostalgia trip, as much of this project has been. Just hearing this music made me feel 15 again. 

Many of MU330's songs revolve around the trashier side of St. Louis life, from mullets to slamming beers in parking lots to sexcapades at Dairy Queen, and there's a specificity to those details that resonates, particularly for people who grew up in South St. Louis. "Hoosier Love" is one such track that got some play on local radio stations:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Unwus_iwdSE

Finally, "The Punisher/Downtown" is one of the more distinctive songs on Chumps On Parade, and it features an extended instrumental opening. It's about as heavy as they ever got (which isn't heavy at all, really), but it's one of the tracks that I still find enjoyable. Let's wrap this up on a high note:

I'd always thought that it was at least slightly juvenile to be distraught when a public figure who you've never met dies (for instance, I never understood the Princess Di phenomenon or even the cult of John Lennon). I still feel that way, to some degree, but Linkous' death was quite shocking and disturbing to me, and it tore me up something good. As with most Sparklehorse fans, I was well-aware of his past problems with depression and substance abuse, and that history looms large across his music.

Still, Linkous appeared to be doing better in his last few years, due to an uptick in productivity, from the 2006 release of Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain to the Danger Mouse team-up to a collaboration with Christian Fennesz that same year. I suppose it was the impression of recovery from my distant perspective that made his death so devastating. Here was a person whose music had meant so much to me and who had publicly struggled with mental health problems; just when he seemed to have been able to be more functional, Captain Howdy caught up to him. In hindsight, perhaps it was the oppressive sense of inevitability that made the death feel even more impactful. I don't know, but I'm sad that Linkous ultimately couldn't overcome the bad chemicals in his head. 

As for Chords I've Known, I really love the EP, and the five tracks reach the quality of other Sparklehorse releases. The instrumental "Midget in a Junkyard" is a delight:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEYo3J-y5rM

"Almost Lost My Mind" is another highlight and features the common Sparklehorse aesthetic of hiding a pop melody in the midst of audio junk:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myD5ouhinXs

Despite having an interesting and respectable career in her own right, I can't help but always just think of Nico as the model who sang on three tracks with The Velvet Underground on their debut album. Granted, those three tracks are a major part of why The Velvet Underground and Nico is so phenomenal, with "All Tomorrow's Parties" being a particularly monumental track. But I think it's odd that many (most?) promotional images of The Velvet Underground feature her likeness, which overstates her involvement in the band's career. Are there really people who ignore everything after the debut? 

Anyway, Chelsea Girl functions as a sort of inverted companion album to TVUAN; also released in 1967, Nico's solo debut features contributions from VU members Lou Reed, John Cale, and Sterling Morrison. Here, they're the guest stars and Nico (obviously) is the main performer, although she only receives a songwriting credit for one of the ten tracks on the album - "It Was A Pleasure Then":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UISL8e17tbc

This track feels the most like something that should be on a Velvet Underground release, as Nico's almost inhumanly stoic intoning collides with screeching instruments over eight uneasy minutes.

After listening to Chelsea Girl, it remains difficult to get a sense of Nico as an actual human being, rather than Nico as an instrument through which lyrics are filtered and processed into alienating sounds. In fact, Nico appears to have had very little control over the form of the album, something that she emphasized in a quote from the liner notes of a Velvet Underground box set:

"I still cannot listen to [Chelsea Girl], because everything I wanted for that record, they took it away. I asked for drums, they said no. I asked for more guitars, they said no. And I asked for simplicity, they covered it in flutes! [...] They added strings - and I didn't like them, but I could live with them. But the flute! The first time I heard the album, I cried and it was all because of the flute." 

Speaking of flutes, here's "Chelsea Girls," which features Reed and Morrison:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=de6ojRtD5fM

Nico's icy singing voice is her calling card, but I began to feel that it's more than a mere affectation after re-listening to Chelsea Girl multiple times. With so much creative control taken from her, Nico's flat-toned vocals almost work as a commentary on the album surrounding that voice. With both lyrics and musical arrangements being imposed on her, Nico becomes something of a spectral presence haunting what's supposed to be her own album. In this sense, Chelsea Girl is even more depressing than it initially sounds on the surface. 

And there's no shortage of depressing tracks here. Even the slightly warm vocals and strings on the cover of Jackson Browne's "These Days" belie a dark, self-loathing viewpoint:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1N8GtDkYfQ

I'm not sure that band names get better than The Robot Ate Me. My friend Matt introduced me to this act with their (his? it's basically a one-man band, I believe) first album, They Ate Themselves. Somehow, a break-up album like Carousel Waltz is a happier and more pleasant set of songs than those that plumb the morbid depths on TAT. Ah, but writing about tracks such as "Goodnight: I Almost Died" or "They Killed You" or "We Ate Each Other" is a task for a post in the distant future.

So my friend Jeff also became a fan of The Robot Ate Me, and he eventually gave me a copy of Carousel Waltz. Despite really loving TAT, it took several years for me to appreciate this later album because it's such a departure in terms of subject matter and tone. And, possibly, because I was in a relatively happy relationship at the time when I first listened to it, and that always seems to affect how I respond to supposed break-up albums. I'm still not a big Blood on the Tracks fan, though, regardless of my relationship status:

http://souvenirsisaved.tumblr.com/post/8388855794/blood-on-the-tracks

For me, Carousel Waltz works in ways that BOTT doesn't precisely because The Robot Ate Me stick to mostly minimal arrangements and decidedly mundane lyrics. When I'm going through a difficult break-up, my thoughts and emotions tend to be pretty unsophisticated and stripped down. I'll find myself oscillating between attempting to over-explain everything and feeling as if I can't possibly make sense of what's going through my mind: that is, I shift between running through an endless list of hypotheticals and conditions ("but if this or that were different...") and saying the blandest, most general statements ("I feel super-sad," to quote Kenny Powers). 

Throughout the album, primary eaten-by-a-robot-guy Ryland Bouchard nicely replicates that state of mind in which articulating any sort of complex response is a near impossibility. And because the songs mostly are so basic and general, they feel like a truer representation of the break-up experience than many other albums. 

For instance, consider the brilliant simplicity of "Where Love Goes":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_0BhUvFZR6Y

The song begins with these lines: "Things started right/But you never know/Where your love will go." Highly literate? No, but these words are precisely the sort of dull and barely articulate thing that runs through my head during times of romantic crisis. As the song continues, Bouchard directs self-consciously  generic questions towards a former or soon-to-be-former lover, such as "Will you hold me up?/Watch me sleep at night?" and "Will you stay with me/If I have nothing left to give?" Basic, basic sentiments - and yet, they feel incredibly personal and honest, rather than excessively general.

Making such broad statements resonate is why Carousel Waltz succeeds as a break-up album. Specificity or abstraction can work for this "genre," as well, but I really appreciate how CW recreates the emotionally and intellectually reductive state in which I've found myself trapped at least a few times. 

"Lately" is another favorite:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffVqMxvlMZU

The lines "Lately when I speak out/It's just to my friends" always get to me, for whatever reason.

And "Bad Feelings" is a great opening track:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWc6zvGg7mI

Ok, so Carbotrolly is next in line, a nice little pop-punk album from St. Louis band, Ultrafink. You'll just have to take my word for Ultrafink's quality, since they came and went in the late 90s, and there don't appear to be any links to their music on YouTube. Oh, wait! They have a MySpace page (last updated in January 2009):

http://www.myspace.com/ultrafink

Apparently, Ultrafink moved to California in an attempt to get signed, but the songs on their site are from Carbotrolly, which was released in St. Louis over a decade earlier. In high school, I briefly was obsessed with supporting local bands, regardless of their quality, and I listened to this album compulsively. Upon revisiting it, I'm not ashamed at all by that - it's a pretty enjoyable pop-punk album that avoids the sheen and polish of similar bands that sprouted up post-Green Day.

One thing about Carbotrolly that always struck me as odd, though, is that all the titles seemed to be wrong. For example, my favorite song was the fourth track, which repeated the phrase "another season" in the refrain, but was titled "Ty's House." The eleventh track on the album strangely was titled, "Another Season," and now on their MySpace page, supposedly "Another Season" is loaded in the player, but it's the third track from Carbotrolly (listed as "Shooting Star" on the album art). Is this some sort of goof on their twenty fans, or an actual mistake?

Oh, hey guys, let's stand in a field and look serious. 

Now maybe, I didn't mean to listen to this ever again, but I did anyway:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAMf2pmOzkk

Um, so here's Candlebox, the self-titled debut from alternative bandwagoners, Candlebox. Sure, I like "You," too:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCtga1OJ9I4

In all honesty, I've got a big soft spot for these singles. Not so much the rest of the album, but I can enjoy these tracks mainly because 90s alt-rock was what was popular among my friends when I began listening to music. So, the self-serious melodramatics make me feel 13 again, in a comfortingly nostalgic sort of way.

I also had a friend/roommate in college who loved these songs, despite them being well past their expiration date by the early aughts. He only enjoyed a very select group of mostly "classic" and obvious bands such as The Beatles and Led Zeppelin (and HATED music that he deemed sloppy-sounding and unsophisticated, including all punk), so I could never figure out why he found Candlebox so appealing. I think it may have been the vocals, strangely enough. 

Finally, Alvin and the Chipmunks covering "Far Behind":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3F7_x2NUcw&feature=fvsr

Really? These guys again? Did you know that they're from California? Did you know that? Did you realize that California isn't as glamorous as you might think, that it, in fact, might be said to "fornicate" its residents? Did you ever think about it that way, maaaan? Yeah, I'm super-pissed at my younger self for making me listen to so much Red Hot Chili Peppers right now. Sigh. I can't go on, I must go on. 

Ok, well, I feel as though I said my piece on the Chili Peppers when I wrote about Blood Sugar Sex Magik:

http://souvenirsisaved.tumblr.com/post/8571163184/sir-psycho-sexy-sigh

These two albums feature the same line-up, and my response generally is very similar to that prompted by BSSM: that is, there's some good production values (particularly on By the Way), quality musicianship, and horrible, cringe-inducing lyrics by Anthony Kiedis most of the time. Oh, and both albums are too long and need to be cut down by several tracks.

The singles from Californication have been overplayed to such an extent that it's hard for me to hear them with fresh ears. Still, I kinda love "Scar Tissue":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzJj5-lubeM&ob=av2e

If nothing else, this band definitely has earned the right to compose a song about being longtime survivors of both the music industry and addiction, and John Frusciante's guitar is nimble and mournful across the track. Hell, even Kiedis turns in a lovely vocal performance, shifting between soft crooning and an occasional slurring affectation. 

The title track on By the Way is typically non-sensical, but I enjoy its propulsive dynamic and the abrupt transitions to the slower segments of the song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JnfyjwChuNU&ob=av2e

Similarly, "Can't Stop" is a fun track as long as you don't listen too carefully, and Kiedis' staccato delivery actually works in the song's favor:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfOdWSiyWoc&ob=av2e

The random Mark Romanek-directed video also features some intriguing visuals and reminds me a bit of Flea chasing the Dude with oversized scissors during a dream sequence in The Big Lebowski. 

Anyway, after returning to these albums around a decade since first buying them, I'm mostly just struck by how much better and more interesting the Chili Peppers would be with a different frontman. I can't get past how well-performed many of the tracks are, and how hard it is to hear that quality with Kiedis spewing his narcissistic blend of hippie-isms and sexual boasts most of the time. I'd love to hear instrumental-only versions of these two albums so that I can appreciate them without being distracted/annoyed/lobotomized through the eardrums. Take a listen to "Savior," for instance:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyHix2Yb0Vk&feature=related

Kiedis isn't really that bad here, relatively speaking, but the instrumentation almost seems to point in a prog direction. Now that's something I'd be interested in hearing - a prog rock Chili Peppers album (note: the concept cannot be about California, not even a dystopic vision of the state in 2112) with some high-pitched wailer who could really bring the nerdiness. 

Finally, I'll end on a positive note with some praise for the song, "Parallel Universe":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9fPYyoY49Bc

This was and possibly still is my favorite track from both of these albums, but upon hearing it again, I really have to credit the song with being highly formative for my musical tastes since 1999. You see, I was 16 when I bought Californication and didn't know much of anything about music. I generally listened to the last gasps of 90s "alternative" rock, whatever random local bands I happened to stumble across, and some punk bands, such as Bad Religion and Rancid.

Of the many styles to which I hadn't yet been exposed was anything particularly noisy and distortion-y. One of the things that I immediately loved about "Parallel Universe" is the minute-long guitar solo that closes the track. It may not seem that distinctive, but to my younger self, the screechiness felt unhinged and wild. As my tastes grew away from acts like the Chili Peppers, I came to embrace more and more bands that featured abrasive sounds, such as The Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine. So, in the end, I'm glad that this track pointed me towards more interesting music over the past decade-plus. 

Ah, this album brings back some nice memories. I bought this when I saw Azure Ray perform as part of a Saddle Creek Records showcase at the 2002 CMJ Music Marathon. Back then, I was a DJ and director on the staff for KSLU, and our university actually paid for us to drive to New York City to listen to some incredible music for a few days. And attend panels at the conference or something. 

Well, one of my fellow DJ/directors was Mike, a huge Conor Oberst fan (this was at the tail-end of Oberst's precocious youth days, just before the Lifted album was released), so we all headed out to the showcase, which was amazing. I'm likely misremembering some of this, but Oberst's side project Los Desaparecidos performed early in the evening and he returned with a huge accompaniment as Bright Eyes to end the night. Between those acts, I "think" that I saw Cursive, Rilo Kiley, possibly The Faint, and definitely Azure Ray, along with some others that I'm forgetting. 

Anyway, there's something delightfully subdued and understated about Burn and Shiver. The songs practically sneak up on you, they're so delicate and hushed. Listen to the way in which "Raining in Athens" subtly builds and builds:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8R_JK1srfo

Like many of the tracks on the album, there aren't many layers to the song, but a peculiar sense of dread is fostered through the persistent repetition of the melody and a slight escalation of volume. 

Another favorite is "We Exchanged Words":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oe3eUrBGv6U

Fine, I admit it - like so many others, I found out about Nick Drake because of a stupid VW commercial that used "Pink Moon" to sell cars:    

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BIOW9fLT9eY

I already owned up to buying "best-of" albums and soundtracks, so I may as well keep poking holes in my credibility. When this commercial first appeared, I had no idea who Nick Drake was, when he recorded music, what types of albums he made, nothing. But it (along with Wes Anderson using Drake's music in his films) prompted me to find out more about this new up-and-comer who had killed himself decades before I knew he existed. 

Bryter Layter is Drake's second album and the second of his that I purchased. Is it really a shock that I'm often obsessive enough to need to "start at the beginning" when getting into an artist? Somehow, I never finished the Drake catalogue by acquiring the third and final studio album, Pink Moon. Maybe I'll pick it up whenever I buy a VW. 

I attribute my extended delay in getting Pink Moon to the fact that I don't like Bryter Layter as much as Five Leaves Left, which initially surprised me because BL features some contributions from John Cale. As much as I love every album by The Velvet Underground, Cale's presence brought such a distinct element to their sound, and I really feel that White Light/White Heat is their peak. Anyway, I suppose my lukewarm reaction to this album isn't that unexpected considering that Cale only performs on two tracks, both of which are highlights. Here's "Fly" (yeah, yeah, it was featured in The Royal Tenenbaums):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRzOoa3JO7A

And "Northern Sky":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2LSU8LIjNbA

Perhaps when/if I make it to Five Leaves Left for this project, I'll be able to articulate my reaction more clearly, but I find myself resisting Drake's music for some reason. His songs are lovely, but the legendary status surrounding Drake because of his suicide seems to overstate the impact of his work in some way. I realize that may sound callous, but the songs often feel intentionally modest to me. That is, Drake is seeking understatement, and that delicacy is weighted down by his posthumous ascent to the level of "Significant Artist." Listening to Bryter Layter is a breezy affair, and there seems to be a sort of lightness inscribed in the music itself. It's certainly enjoyable, but I'm not sure if it's a grand achievement, as Drake's legend insists. 

Also, I hate the song "Poor Boy," mostly because of the back-up vocals:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdYJyp4EIbI