Lee Ranaldo & Steve Shelley w/Yo La Tengo, "Mote"

Yo La Tengo: Hanukkah Shows
Maxwell's
December 20-27

Better than: Christmas.

Hanukkah doesn't technically end until sundown Wednesday, but Yo La Tengo unplugged their electric menorah at Maxwell's last night, just after a post-midnight sign-off where Ira Kaplan's mother sang "My Little Corner of the World." Despite the junior Kaplan's recent (unspecified) health scare that left him confined to a bar stool for this year's series of Hanukkah shows, his band's sets seemed more expansive than ever, spilling between relaxed arrangements, deeper-than-usual noise jams (bassist James McNew has been moonlighting with Kid Millions' Man Forever), Georgia Hubley ballads, indie pop, and covers—and Bobcat Goldthwait was there, too.

This year, the band played some 134 different songs over Hanukkah; the set lists included the usual tour through its 27-year back catalogue, tunes by great Jewish songwriters (number of Velvet Underground songs this year: somehow only 3), and appearances by ex-YLT roommates (Maxwell's co-owner Todd Abramson on "The Aba Dabba Do Dance"; WFMU DJ Gaylord Fields growling through "My Little Red Book"). But the stunt guitarists—recruited quickly as back-up for Kaplan—were this year's main attraction. Though Superchunk founder Mac McCaughan took most of the leads on opening night, it was soon obvious that the extra players were there to jam, not substitute for Kaplan, who seemed mostly at full strength, minus the occasional charge at the amp.

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All one can really say about Superchunk's clip for "Crossed Wires" without massive spoilers is a brief outline of its concept: Laura Ballance attaches video camera to kitty's collar and lets it run free, hilarity ensues. (OK, I can say one other thing without spoilage: It's much better than Phil Collins' dog-day clip for "Something Happened On The Way To Heaven" in the annals of Videos Taken From The Point Of View Of Domesticated Animals. But NOTHING ELSE! Just watch it!) [Via]

Bright Eyes/Superchunk/WILD FLAG
Radio City Music Hall
Tuesday, March 8

Better Than: Oh, come on. I'm not making a Roseland Ballroom joke.

We need to talk about Nate Walcott. You long ago made up your mind about Conor Oberst, and if you've never found in-house producer/utility man Mike Mogis' way with a sighing steel guitar entrancing, then you've perhaps at least seen a Bright Eyes press photo and thought that it was nice of Conor to let his cool uncle join the band. Walcott has been a touring member, usually keyboards and such, for much of Bright Eyes' existence, and the official third man since the release of 2007's Cassadaga. Next to a songwriter that's been named one of the best of his generation (and also plenty of less flattering things), and a man that produced a beloved Jenny Lewis album, and a performer with enough charisma to join the Monsters of Folk, Walcott must often feel unappreciated. But not last night.

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Guess who? Photo by Rebecca Smeyne.

​Alright, let's do this, before I change my mind. With apologies to The-Dream, Sleigh Bells, Ted Leo, Kylesa, Swans, Zola Jesus, Marnie Stern, and all other vestiges of my punk rock past, and especially you Nicki Minaj, who missed both of my lists this year. How that happened I still don't understand, but onward, before it's too late. Half of these records are about mental breakdowns; the other half are about beating the whole world. I relate to both sentiments:

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Welcome to Sound of the City's year-in-review rock-critic roundtable, an amiable ongoing conversation between five prominent Voice critics: Rob Harvilla, Zach Baron, Sean Fennessey, Maura Johnston, and Rich Juzwiak. We'll be here all week!

James Murphy, pulling no punches.

​Dear fellow illuminati,

My favorite Das Racist line from 2010 remains one they wrote in 2009: "Listening to coke rap, listening to joke rap/Listening to Donuts, listening to grown-ups/Listening to Camu, listening to Cam too." (I have fond memories of watching them perform it earlier this year in Mexico, as a drug war began to break out around us.) But I'm also partial to Sit Down, Man's "We aiight, but media cats think we clever though/Are we?/You may never know." Together, those lines pretty much explain their appeal to rap fans and critics alike--they are us, simultaneously diagramming our passions and, gulp, doing our jobs. Still wrestling with whether there were ten albums released this year that I liked more than their two mixtapes; as discerning rap critics and habitual self-deprecators, I kind of assume they're in the same spot, wondering the same thing.

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Welcome to Sound of the City's year-in-review rock-critic roundtable, an amiable ongoing conversation between five prominent Voice critics: Rob Harvilla, Zach Baron, Sean Fennessey, Maura Johnston, and Rich Juzwiak. We'll be here all week!

​Dear Rob, Sean, Rich, and Maura,

I believe, as per our esteemed colleagues over at ILM, that the tortured anagram that Rob is looking for here is BLAND: Beach House (it's like you knew!), LCD Soundsystem, Arcade Fire, the National, and Deerhunter. I like exactly one of those records, so fine with me, but before I start gassing on about how inspiring I found James Murphy to be in 2010, I believe there was a sprawling three-part opening question to be addressed. Let's take a moment to recall that at roughly this time last year, two smart critics, Sasha Frere-Jones and Simon Reynolds, were gently declaring hip-hop as we knew it dead. (Sasha: "If I had to pick a year for hip-hop's demise, though, I would choose 2009.")

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Put this memory on your iPhone forever.

We just enjoyed a killer weekend of shows for indie-rock nostalgia (or not) types: Pavement's glorious return to NYC you saw coming from a long way off, of course; Superchunk's equally glorious resurgence, maybe not so much. Thanks to NYC Taper, you can peruse full sets from both.

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At Other Music on Sunday

Superchunk
Bowery Ballroom
Saturday, September 18

Better than: The entire genre of chillwave.

Let's start with "Driveway to Driveway," the first song of Superchunk's first of two encores this Saturday night, and overwhelmingly triumphant for a onetime landmine that seemed pretty clearly, then and now, about the 1993 breakup between this band's frontman, Mac McCaughan, and its bassist, Laura Ballance. (She used to cry onstage when they performed it, circa Foolish.) Tonight, though, it inspires perhaps the most unhinged audience singalong of the evening, no mean feat, and is as good a sign as any that things seem pretty different for Superchunk lately, extremely justified, don't-call-it-a-comeback odes to this band's great new album, Majesty Shredding aside. They arrive at Bowery from last night's gig in DC fresh off a plane, the van with the gear in it trailing behind, and tomorrow they'll play another sold-out show, this one at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. So yeah--this is not the Superchunk you've been ignoring for the last decade.

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Not the Love Language. Photo by Jason Arthurs.

​"Time and transition is a wave that'll put you over," Superchunk frontman Mac McCaughan avers on "My Gap Feels Weird," one of eleven sparkling new songs on Majesty Shredding, the band's first LP in nine years. Who could doubt him? It's Superchunk's fall, more or less, though as Jessica Hopper writes in this week's Voice, "don't call it a comeback." And it isn't one, not just because Superchunk never left, but because they never squandered their ample indie world goodwill, never did anything they had to apologize for, except maybe stop releasing great records every couple of years. It's been fun finding out how many people still adore them in 2010, and their two sold-out shows this weekend in NYC (at the Bowery Ballroom and the Music Hall of Williamsburg) are a testament to that fact. Luckily, they're also doing a free in-store at Other Music on Sunday--no need for tickets there, though you'll probably want to be in line before 1pm, when the whole thing starts. Hoping for a John Darnielle cameo somewhere in there, since he sings on the new record; the Mountain Goats frontman also stars as an unlikely dentist in the band's new "Digging For Something" video, right here:

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After chatting backstage at the Village Voice Media SXSW party with Surfer Blood (who told us about their Twittering philosophy), and Pains of Being Pure at Heart (who recounted an innocently embarrassing incident involving a condom), we cornered Merge Records honchos/Superchunk leaders Mac McCaughan and Laura Ballance to probe them about their best SXSW memories, an Austin club toilet that Mac doesn't miss, and what Superchunk's last show ever would be like. But they insist that such a thing will never happen--at least deliberately. That's good news, right?