Apocalypse, and how

Do bad times really make for great music?

By Kimberly Chun

IT WASHED IN with the deadly tsunami, southeast Asia-style, and a presidential inauguration, corruption à la mode. And it's ending with another potential disaster – the bird flu – and an ongoing one in Iraq. Yes, 2005 was, to put it kindly, a beeyatch.

The chickens certainly have come home to roost since Sir Bob Geldof kicked off his ambitious worldwide Live 8 concerts in July to entice G8 leaders to end poverty in Africa by increasing aid by $25 billion. An exercise in '80s-style shit-stirring or in nostalgia for said shit-stirring? Was it really a giant publicity stunt to "make poverty history," as Sting proclaimed onstage in London, or simply a feel-good blowout at the halftime of a feel-bad decade? Among the many complaints about the expanding spandex fest was that African performers themselves were shortchanged, reduced to barely discernable sound bites, whereas dino-rockers were accorded lengthy TV time. Little did we realize that staggering deprivation and injustice were right around the corner, in our own backyard. Flip ahead a few months to witness scenes of death, devastation, and chaos in the South, and the gulf between the two, or more, Americas – rich and poor, black and white – was blown wide open by a Gulf Coast storm.

Established charities like the Recording Academy's MusicCares, venues-turned-musicians'-community-centers such as Tipitina's, and new local nonprofits like the New Orleans Musicians Hurricane Relief Fund have stepped up to offer money and support to Nawlins jazz, R&B, second-line, and rock artists and institutions like Preservation Hall and Mr. Quintron and Miss Pussycat. Yet thanks to a slow-moving FEMA, bad air and airborne mold, and the threat of public housing being turned into higher-priced developments in the wake of storm damage, the repercussions of Hurricane Katrina threaten to spiral out into the future, like so much new-old Bob Dylan nostalgia product, Goth fashion statements ("skulls are still back!"), and third-line punk-new wave reunion tours. And as storms continued to hammer the South and a quake shook Pakistan – with more than 3 million people in need of aid after being left homeless by the Oct. 8 earthquake – one wondered if disaster fatigue had set in, as the UN announced they're only covered for 40 percent of a needed $550 million in aid to deal with the aftermath of the South Asia trembler.

So why has 2005 been such a good year for music, particularly at rock's perceived edges? Why does Lightning Bolt's Hypermagic Mountain (Load) sound so good? Have they broken our ears in? Are we now able to parse their particular, rash musical syntax? Or do they embody the hostile beauty; the sensuous fury; the magical, multidimensional, anarchic textures of Mother Nature in 2005?

I hate that hoary, unattributed, and ultimately unsupportable cliché about "troubled times" inspiring great art – as if that was the only cold comfort, the only refuge, we could find after the 2004 presidential elections. I despise it because it can so easily be turned to an oppressive or conservative establishment's ends, justifying their agenda and relegating those wacko artists to the margins.

So how do I explain the plentitude of powerful sounds pouring from reissue imprints like Water and Legacy and independent labels such as Jagjaguwar and Kill Rock Stars? I have a few intuitive theories about why putting together a top 10 list doesn't fill me with dread as it has on occasion: Locally, I think the music – again, cliché alert – community, which found its voices, passion, sounds, organizational strength, and conscience during the last mayoral and then presidential election and at the start of the Afghanistan and Iraq wars – is blossoming, developing, and, goddess forbid, maturing beyond hell-bent eviction-party bands and, if they're lucky, into recording artists with something substantial to say. Maybe we all simply remembered – and learned to cherish – the essentials: melody, cacophony, beats, engagement on all levels.

Kicking-against-the-pricks resistance will get you so far – but I prefer to think insane times that conjure the unimaginable call for greater leaps, deeper questioning, and more imaginative responses from its creators. In the same sense, the renewed popularity of Bob Dylan might spark a host of Zimmy-styled entertainers in the coming years, but I'm more interested in the songwriters who hold themselves to the icon's stringent standards and go further than mere imitation and regurgitation. I want to hear from the kiddies lucky enough to be serenaded by Deerhoof, any babes in arms at Arthurfest, and the young women tucked into the corners of last week's 21 Grand noise show, which challenged outsiders' assumptions about how "insidery" and unfriendly these scenes get – everyone from Sixes to Yellow Swans was all smiles.

Not so long ago, much was made about how programmers, developers, project managers, and sundry tech nerds were the new rock stars ("CEN Silicon Valley Presents 'CFOs: The New Rock Stars'<\!q>"; Stanford Park Hotel, Menlo Park; May 20, 2002) – and though they obviously aren't as sexy as they once were (when sexy equaled rich), I think they should hold on to that title because I prefer music made by unusual suspects who stoop to describe themselves as artists. Gimme danger, if not outright disaster, from these familiar strangers.

Kimberly Chun's top 10 (in alphabetical order)

Arthurfest with Devendra Banhart, Cat Power, Circle, Comets on Fire, Dos, Earth, Fatso Jetson, T-Model Ford, Growing, the Juan Maclean, Magic Markers, Merzbow, Yoko Ono, Jack Rose, Sonic Youth, and Vetiver (our lovely cover models)

Beats: Boards of Canada, The Campfire Headphase (Warp); M83, Before the Dawn Heals Us (Mute); Kanye West, Late Registration (Roc-A-Fella)

Bedroom rock evolution: Antony and the Johnsons live; Fiona Apple, Extraordinary Machine (Epic); Bonnie "Prince" Billy and Matthew Sweeney, Superwolf (Drag City); the Clientele, Strange Geometry (Merge); Chad Vangaalen, Infiniheart (Sub Pop); Six Organs of Admittance, School of the Flower (Drag City); Sufjan Stevens, Illinoise (Asthmatic Kitty)

EPs: the Fiery Furnaces, The Fiery Furnaces (Sanctuary); Lavendar Diamond, Calvary of Light (self-released)

In the garage: Gris Gris, For the Season (Birdman); Killer's Kiss, Killer's Kiss (Hook or Crook); White Stripes, Get Behind Me Satan (V2)

Land of the Rising Sound: Acid Mothers Temple, IAO Chant from the Cosmic Inferno; Boredoms live and on record, Seadrum/House of Sun (Vice); Boris live; DMBQ live and on record, The Essential Sounds from the Far East (Estrus); OOIOO, Gold and Green (Thrill Jockey)

Louder: High on Fire, Blessed Black Wings (Relapse); Lightning Bolt, Hypermagic Mountain (Load)

Poppy: Fruit Bats, Spelled in Bones (Sub Pop); Jens Lekman, Oh You're So Silent, Jens (Secretly Canadian); the Magic Numbers, The Magic Numbers (Capitol); Why?, Elephant Eyelash (Anticon)

Rock: Broadcast live and on record, Tender Buttons (Warp); Deerhoof, The Runners Four (Kill Rock Stars); Dungen, Ta Det Lugnt (Subliminal Sounds/Kemado); Electrelane live and on record, Axes (Too Pure); Uberhund, The Tarp (Isota)

Reissues: Gary Higgins, Red Hash (Drag City); Judee Sill, Dreams Come True (Water); the Stooges, The Stooges and Fun House, deluxe editions (Elektra/Rhino)