1. Nike Air Jordan XI 2. Nike Air Force 1 3. Converse All Star 4. Nike Air Jordan III 5. Nike Dunk 6. Nike Air Foamposite One 7. Nike Air Max 95 8. Nike Air Jordan IV 9. Adidas Superstar 10. Puma Clyde
Other Notables:
13. Vans Slip-On 16. Nike Air Jordan V 18. Nike Air Max I 21. Vans Era 29. Reebok Omni Pump Lite 34. Nike Air Max 90 37. Nike Air Max 97 39. Vans Old School 68. Nike Air Force 180 72. Nike Air Huarache 78. Vans Sk8-HI 79. Vans Half Cab 80. Etnies Sal 23 83. ES Koston I
There was a mini-genre of singer/songwriters in the late '60s and early '70s that has never gotten a name. They were folky but not exactly folk-rock and certainly not laid-back; sometimes pissed off but not full of rage; alienated but not incoherent; psychedelic-tinged but not that weird; not averse to using orchestration in some cases but not that elaborately produced. And they sold very few records, eluding to a large degree even rediscovery by collectors. Jeff Monn, Paul Martin, John Braheny, and Billy Joe Becoat were some of them, and Sixto Rodriguez was another on his 1970 LP, Cold Fact. Imagine an above-average Dylanesque street busker managing to record an album with fairly full and imaginative arrangements, and you're somewhat close to the atmosphere. Rodriguez projected the image of the aloof, alienated folk-rock songwriter, his songs jammed with gentle, stream-of-consciousness, indirect putdowns of straight society and its tensions. Likewise, he had his problems with romance, simultaneously putting down (again gently) women for their hang-ups and intimating that he could get along without them anyway ("I wonder how many times you had sex, and I wonder do you know who'll be next" he chides in the lilting "I Wonder"). At the same time, the songs were catchy and concise, with dabs of inventive backup: a dancing string section here, odd electronic yelps there, tinkling steel drums elsewhere. It's an album whose lyrics are evocative yet hard to get a handle on even after repeated listenings, with song titles like "Hate Street Dialogue," "Inner City Blues" (not the Marvin Gaye tune), and "Crucify Your Mind" representative of his eccentric, slightly troubled mindset. As it goes with folk-rock-psych singer/songwriters possessing captivating non sequitur turns of the phrase, he's just behind Arthur Lee and Skip Spence, but still worth your consideration.
Formed around the talents of Rodrigo Amarante (singer/guitarist from Brazilian indie rock outfit Los Hermanos), Fabrizio Moretti (drummer for the Strokes), and Binki Shapiro (a Los Angeles-based singer), Little Joy came to fruition after a chance encounter between Amarante and Moretti at a festival in Lisbon, Portugal. Moretti, Shapiro, and Amarante -- the latter had relocated to Los Angeles to appear on Devendra Banhart's Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon album -- eventually moved into a house in L.A.'s historic Echo Park (Little Joy stole their moniker from a cocktail lounge within walking distance from their home) and began hashing out songs. The group's eponymous Rough Trade debut arrived in late 2008.(allmusic)
Department of Eagles' work from when they were still known as Whitey on the Moon UK was repackaged so much that when In Ear Park was released, it felt like the band had a much bigger discography than they actually did. The Whitey on the Moon UK LP (which became The Cold Nose after the band's name change) was based on the same core set of songs, give or take some bonus tracks, that Daniel Rossen and Fred Nicolaus recorded in college with their friends as their only intended audience. In Ear Park is Department of Eagles' first full-fledged, self-contained album, and it shows just how far the pair has come since their early days. Their playful, detailed approach to crafting sounds remains, but Rossen's stint in Grizzly Bear helped hone his songwriting skills, and life experiences enriched them: In Ear Park was inspired by his childhood, dedicated to his late father, and named after what he called one of his favorite places to go as a boy. The band frames these very personal observations in experimental, symphonic/acoustic/electronic pop, using its grandiosity to convey the power of memories. "In Ear Park"'s rippling guitars conjure up a far-off, sun-dappled yesterday, and the way its backing vocals and waltz rhythms swell capture the way a memory can completely immerse someone. Van Dyke Parks' widescreen sound is a major influence, especially on the excellent "Teenagers," which, with its elegantly woozy guitars, pianos, woodwinds, and '20s style megaphone vocals, feels nostalgic for a time much longer ago than when either Rossen or his father would have been teenagers. Similarly, Rossen's dreamy warble of a voice sounds older than his years, particularly on "Herringbone," where he sings "when you are gone, you are gone." The oddness of his vocals is a perfect fit for the dazzling amount of stuff going on in these songs -- which, not surprisingly since Grizzly Bear's Chris Taylor and Chris Bear play on it, recalls Rossen's work with his other band. "Phantom Other" builds from simple vocals and acoustic guitar to bubbling keyboards, massive guitars, and drums, while "Classical Records" incorporates footsteps, toy piano, and double bass into its darkly trippy swirl. In Ear Park's sonic flights of fancy are impressive in their own right, but even more so on the most tightly structured songs, such as the haunting standout "No One Does It Like You," a bouncy, wistful homage to '60s pop that's so yearning, it seems to be nostalgic for nostalgia. The album doesn't finish as strongly as it began -- "Waves of Rye" and "Therapy Car Noise" feel formless compared to In Ear Park's first half -- but this album is a big step forward for Department of Eagles, a playground of sound that celebrates the pull of memories and music.(AllMusic)
The new album is very inconsistent. There is a bunch of garbage with a few gems mixed in. My favorites are "Family Tree" which oddly sounds alot like Coldplay and "Love Dog".
Borrowing from ageless folk and classic rock (and nicking some of the best bits from prog and soft rock along the way), on their self-titled debut album Fleet Foxes don't just master the art of taking familiar influences and making them sound fresh again, they give a striking sense of who they are and what their world is like. Their song titles reference the Blue Ridge Mountains — never mind that they're actually from Seattle — but it's the ease and skill with which they mix and match British and American folk and rock from the far and not too distant past that makes the band's music so refreshing. While this mix could be contrived or indulgent, Fleet Foxes use restraint, structuring their flourishes into three- and four-minute pop songs full of chiming melodies and harmonies that sound like they've been summoned from centuries of traditional songs and are full of vivid, universal imagery: mountains, birds, family, death. Despite drawing from so many sources, there's a striking purity to Fleet Foxes' sound. Robin Pecknold's voice is warm and sweet, with just enough grit to make phrases like "premonition of my death" sound genuine, and the band's harmonies sound natural, and stunning, whether they're on their own or supported by acoustic guitars or the full, plugged-in band. "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song" and "Meadowlarks" show just how much the Foxes do with the simplest elements of their music, but Fleet Foxes' best songs marry that purity with twists that open their sound much wider. As good as the Sun Giant EP was, Fleet Foxes saved many of their best songs for this album. "White Winter Hymnal" is remarkably beautiful, building from a vocal round into glorious jangle pop with big, booming drums that lend a sense of adventure as the spine-tingling melody lightens some of the lyrics' darkness ("Michael you would fall and turn the white snow red as strawberries in summertime"). The suite-like "Ragged Wood" moves from a galloping beat to sparkling acoustic picking, then takes a trippy detour before returning to a more thoughtful version of its main theme. "Quiet Houses" and "He Doesn't Know Why"'s driving pianos show off the band's flair for drama. Dazzling songs like these are surrounded by a few songs that find the band leaning a little more heavily on its influences. "Your Protector" nods to Zeppelin's misty, mournful side, and "Blue Ridge Mountains" is the kind of earthy yet sophisticated song CSNY would have been proud to call their own. But, even when the songs aren't as brilliant as Fleet Foxes' highlights, the band still sounds alluring, as on the lush interlude "Heard Them Stirring." Throughout the album, the band sounds wise beyond its years, so it's not really that surprising that Fleet Foxes is such a satisfying, self-assured debut. (AllMusic)
Borrowing from ageless folk and classic rock (and nicking some of the best bits from prog and soft rock along the way), on their self-titled debut album Fleet Foxes don't just master the art of taking familiar influences and making them sound fresh again, they give a striking sense of who they are and what their world is like. Their song titles reference the Blue Ridge Mountains — never mind that they're actually from Seattle — but it's the ease and skill with which they mix and match British and American folk and rock from the far and not too distant past that makes the band's music so refreshing. While this mix could be contrived or indulgent, Fleet Foxes use restraint, structuring their flourishes into three- and four-minute pop songs full of chiming melodies and harmonies that sound like they've been summoned from centuries of traditional songs and are full of vivid, universal imagery: mountains, birds, family, death. Despite drawing from so many sources, there's a striking purity to Fleet Foxes' sound. Robin Pecknold's voice is warm and sweet, with just enough grit to make phrases like "premonition of my death" sound genuine, and the band's harmonies sound natural, and stunning, whether they're on their own or supported by acoustic guitars or the full, plugged-in band. "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song" and "Meadowlarks" show just how much the Foxes do with the simplest elements of their music, but Fleet Foxes' best songs marry that purity with twists that open their sound much wider. As good as the Sun Giant EP was, Fleet Foxes saved many of their best songs for this album. "White Winter Hymnal" is remarkably beautiful, building from a vocal round into glorious jangle pop with big, booming drums that lend a sense of adventure as the spine-tingling melody lightens some of the lyrics' darkness ("Michael you would fall and turn the white snow red as strawberries in summertime"). The suite-like "Ragged Wood" moves from a galloping beat to sparkling acoustic picking, then takes a trippy detour before returning to a more thoughtful version of its main theme. "Quiet Houses" and "He Doesn't Know Why"'s driving pianos show off the band's flair for drama. Dazzling songs like these are surrounded by a few songs that find the band leaning a little more heavily on its influences. "Your Protector" nods to Zeppelin's misty, mournful side, and "Blue Ridge Mountains" is the kind of earthy yet sophisticated song CSNY would have been proud to call their own. But, even when the songs aren't as brilliant as Fleet Foxes' highlights, the band still sounds alluring, as on the lush interlude "Heard Them Stirring." Throughout the album, the band sounds wise beyond its years, so it's not really that surprising that Fleet Foxes is such a satisfying, self-assured debut. (AllMusic)