I approached Marnie Stern's In Advance of the Broken Arm cautiously. It's not the talk of her Steve Vai-meets-Don Caballero shredding that demands such trepidation, but rather the other side of her influences: Sleater Kinney, Deerhoof, and Hella are bands I can listen to in small doses, if at all. "Vibrational Match," the first track on her debut CD, didn't help this wary approach. Stern couples her frenzied fretboard calisthenics with similar high-octave vocal line, swarming like a Van Halen-informed riot grrl. Interesting, but a whole album of it? Pass me the Tylenol.

Just when I thought I'd put Stern on the needlessly over-hyped list, "Every Single Line Means Something" came on. Perhaps its status as the record's lead single should have informed me of its crossover potential, but "Every Single Line" addresses all of my qualms over "Vibrational Match." Stern's voice is less shrill, relaxing into a multi-tracked coo during the breakdown, and doesn't have to fight for high-octave space with the guitars, which follow less frantic lower-octave figures. The chorus trades the cheerleader chant of "Vibrational" for genuine hooks. The complexity of the instrumentation doesn't overwhelm, but instead allows you to pick up on the tricky stuff going on underneath the more rhythmic guitar line. Zach Hill's drumming doesn't fight the momentum of the song, either. "Every Single Line" pulls a great song out of an intriguing, sometimes infuriating aesthetic.

Elsewhere, the titular shenanigans of "Put All Your Eggs in One Basket and Then Watch That Basket!" proves that the Don Caballero influence isn't limited to finger-tapped leads, but the song certainly has those in spades, as well. What that song and a scant few others ("Patterns of a Diamond Ceiling") benefit from is a tempting calm, however fleeting, amid Stern's signature flurry of activity.

My initial hesitation about Marnie Stern was largely accurate, since In Advance of the Broken Arm spazzes out a bit too much for my liking, but finding a solid EP's worth of material that either pulls off the hyperactive shredding with style or calms down enough to provide space and tension is a pleasant surprise. I doubt she'll calm down too much, since she has to justify playing this guitar, but I'm optimistic about her live performances and her next album.

One of the biggest hurdles for my top twenty of 2006 and the subsequent 2CD mixes (which are done, by the way—I’ll post track listings and pictures soon) was the leak of the new Eluvium record, Copia. I’d never listened to Eluvium, but since this particular record leaked at the same time as the new Explosions in the Sky (All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone), I grabbed it and found that it far surpassed the EITS album. Consequently I tracked down all of the other Eluvium releases and found myself drawn to those records more than many of my candidates for year-end honors.

Eluvium, a one-man project from Matthew Cooper, started out closer to the ambient branch of post-rock—muted instrumentation gliding into carefully crafted waves (listen to from 2003’s Lambent Material and “New Animals from Air” from 2005’s Talk Amongst the Trees) and occasionally swelling into feedback. But Eluvium’s 2004 release An Accidental Memory in the Case of Death chose a much different course, opting for a solo performance of neoclassical piano suites instead of layers of studio trickery. These songs, particularly the title track and “The Well-Meaning Professor,” do an excellent job of being playful with recurring themes, heightening the tension when necessary, and letting the compositions breathe. I typically don’t listen to much classical music, but when I do it’s quite minimal (Arvo Pärt’s Alina, for example), so An Accidental Memory is actually a bit busier than usual. After Talk Among the Trees and a solid, if unspectacular 2006 EP, When I Live by the Garden and the Sea (highlighted by “I Will Not Forget that I Have Forgotten”), Copia fulfills the promise of An Accidental Memory’s neoclassical designs with fuller arrangements, populated by traditionally classical instrumentation (strings, brass), not the occasional shoegaze-derived guitar marking earlier releases. When the absolute grace of the brass opener “Amreik” leads into the intertwined layers of the album’s epic, “Indoor Swimming at the Space Station,” it’s hard not to imagine spending the full hour with Copia. “Prelude for Time Feelers” encapsulates the album’s modes and strengths—piano figures lead into gradually accumulating layers of instrumentation, building subtle crescendos and then whisking such drama away. The literal fireworks punctuating “Repose in Blue” close the album, contrasting with the serene framework set below.

Copia has even seeped into times and situations I traditionally devote for up-tempo rock music, namely walking and driving around Boston. “Indoor Swimming at the Space Station” could play continuously underneath my daily activities with no resistance.

Copia officially comes out February 20, but Temporary Residence has hinted about a forthcoming vinyl release, so I’m going to put off pre-ordering or purchasing the CD. It seems less likely that the other Eluvium albums will be released on vinyl anytime soon, so I figure I’m safe getting those on CD. Right?

I’ve finished my top twenty records list for 2006. Yes, everyone in the blogosphere beat me to it, but I actually enjoy determining the records, writing about them, and designing the layout. Granted, the layout may look like an Old Navy advertisement, but I still prefer it to the eyesore I chose for 2005’s list. Between that design decision and the possibility that my top pick may have actually been released in 2005, I probably shouldn’t be self-promoting too heavily, but I like my now-standard fifty word descriptions and I do recommend every album on the list, even though it feels like a down year overall.

The artwork for my accompanying year-end 2CD mix isn’t finished yet, but if you’d like to hear selections from these records and other candidates, send me an e-mail (sebastian at newartillery dot com) with your mailing address. Thirty-five songs carefully whittled down for flow and fit in some handmade LP style packaging could be in your mail box shortly if you e-mail me or if I already have your address.

Those discs will likely reveal some of the runners-up for this list, but Maps and Atlases’ Trees, Swallows, Houses EP, The Radio Dept.’s Pet Grief, Elanors’ Movements, The Timeout Drawer’s Alone EP, and Cursive’s Happy Hollow are other noteworthy 2006 releases. Why didn’t they make it? Respectively: too busy for its own good, single-oriented, short life span in the listening pile, better release last year, and weak as individual parts.

My soundtrack for reading in the BC library has typically been Tarentel's aptly titled singles compilation, Ephemera. Unlike their recent work, in which texture and atmosphere form the backbone of many songs, early Tarentel tracks (namely this compilation and the stellar From Bone to Satellite) build songs up from the smallest available pieces, whether a stray bit of feedback or a softly picked note, gradually forming sturdy, expressive post-rock songs and letting them evaporate into the original miasma. "The Waltz" might be the finest of these tracks, a crescendo so glacial one might not even notice the arrival (or departure) of the drums.

That said, the second track on the new-ish Tungsten74 album, Binaurally Yours (see comments section of previous entry), happens to be titled "Waltz." And you know what? It destroys that Tarentel song. Absolutely kills it. Everything that I've loved about Tungsten74 has been distilled into twelve-and-a-half minutes of psychedelic, progressive post-rock, cabinets stocked full of carefully controlled feedback and surging melodies. The biggest potential caveat for a shorter, digestable Tungsten74 record is that it risks crippling their foremost strength—a compelling tendency to wander headlong into huge expanses of sound—but "Waltz" represents the best possible result of this shift from the epic travels of the two-disc Aleatory Element. All I'm capable of doing right now is replaying the section from the 9:20 mark until the end of the song, over and over, jaw agape from both the locked-in groove and the swirling layers of its aching yet propulsive melodies. It wouldn't be fair to expect two full discs of songs this tightly crafted, but Tungsten74 is at work on another album.

I'm both mad at myself for not hearing this album earlier and thrilled that penciling in a spot for this record in my year-end list was completely warranted.

According to Ghost Wars’ MySpace page, their album is almost finished. Ghost Wars, for those caught unaware, is Arlie Carstens’ post-Juno project with Eric Fisher and a rotating cast of additional musicians. The three tracks posted are unfinished demos, but they offer considerable promise in terms of aesthetic variance and songwriting depth. I still don’t know when their album might actually be released—the fear is that this becomes my personal “follow-up to Loveless” dilemma—but any news is great news. I mention this because I’m going to list my top 20 albums of the year to this point, and if Ghost Wars were to be released up to and including December 31, 2006, everything would likely shift down one spot.

Other potential caveats include my inexplicable inability to grab the new Tungsten74 (Binaurally Yours), my baited breath for the new Pinebender album (Working Nine to Wolf), the forthcoming Life and Times EP, Mt. St. Helens’ Of Others (pending a new label; Divot folded), the next Lights Out Asia (Tanks and Recognizers), and the potential that something great comes out that I wasn’t even anticipating. This list is organized in tiers (starting with 20–15) and commentary is sparse. It’s August, so there’s a lot of listening (and purchasing) to come before December, but keep these in mind.

Isis and Aereogramme - In the Fishtank 14
Judah Johnson - Be Where I Be
Mock Orange and the Band Apart - Daniels EP
Norfolk and Western - A Gilded Age
Vetiver - To Find Me Gone

Mock Orange has been my band of the year for 2006, but that’s primarily been because of the First EP and Mind Is Not Brain, not this grab bag of a split EP. Judah Johnson resides on my new favorite label, Flameshovel, but I’m torn over whether this record shifts them toward AOR yearning (see also: Jeremy Enigk’s World Waits) or more successful songwriting.

Channels - Waiting for the Next End of the World
Hammock - The Sleepover Series Vol. 1
Radio Dept. – Pet Grief
Russian Circles - Enter
Timeout Drawer - Alone EP

Hammock’s excursion into strictly ambient music is a success, even if that means it’s less memorable than their other records. The synth-pop of the Radio Dept. is more oriented for successful singles (“The Worst Taste in Music,” “Every Time”) than consistency, but they give it a shot.

I Love You But I’ve Chosen Darkness - Fear Is on Our Side
Jesu - Silver EP
Mission of Burma - The Obliterati
Nina Nastasia - On Leaving
Paik – Monster of the Absolute

Paik’s album is a close second to The Orson Fader in their catalog; cutting the expanse makes it easier to digest, but eliminates some of the appeal. Jesu’s Silver EP emphasizes the shoegazing tendencies of the full-length to the absolute benefit of the material.

Chin Up Chin Up – This Harness Can’t Ride Anything
Cursive - Happy Hollow
Errors - How Clean Is Your Acid House?
Isis - In the Absence of Truth
TV on the Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain

Chin Up Chin Up was a big surprise—the title track and “Water Planes in Snow” had me absolutely hooked—and as an added bonus, the vinyl comes out on Flameshovel. Errors is only available on import from Mogwai’s label, which is unfortunate because their electronic-enhanced post-rock is far more memorable than Mogwai’s Mr. Beast. I need to hear the TV on the Radio more in its “official” track order, but the songs are excellent however you arrange ’em.

In other news, I had no clue that Zach Barocas of Jawbox fame wrote a book of poetry.