Developed in Norway during the late 1980s and early ’90s, black metal was a reaction to what its progenitors saw as a sterilization of commercial death metal. They opted instead for low-grade recording and poor equipment, which gave the early recordings of bands like Mayhem and Darkthrone a brittle, cold and grim feeling — necrosound, as it would come to be known.

The monochromatic moods, harsh timbres and broad, sweeping melodies made an impact, not only on metalheads, but have inspired bands as far away from metal as alt-country songwriter Ryan Adams, indie-rock stars Interpol and folk singer Marissa Nadler (whose haunting voice graces the claimed-to-be-final recording of American black-metal recluse Xasthur).

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But the ideologies espoused by some of the genre’s pioneers — which run a hateful gamut of nationalism, xenophobia, homophobia, racism and anti-Christian sentiments  — make it a tougher pill to swallow than even its standoffish sonic approach would suggest. In the ’90s, the original Norwegian scene imploded with a series of deaths (both suicides and murders), church arsons and prison sentences.

To both the advantage and disadvantage of “Until The Light Takes Us,” Aites and Ewel dodge editorializing as if it would kill them. Rather, they merely let the cameras roll as figureheads — including the film’s de facto stars, Gylve “Fenriz” Nagell of Darthrone and Varg Vikernes of Burzum (interviewed in prison before his release earlier this year) — explain their music and their motivations as best they know how. We hear Vikernes explain his hatred of American and Christian usurpation of Nordic heritage, laced with currents of anti-Semitism. The camera merely listens; the filmmakers offer neither challenge nor approval. We hear Jan Axel “Hellhammer” Blomberg, ex-drummer of Mayhem, extol the murder of a homosexual committed by Bard “Faust” Eithun, the drummer of peer-band Emperor. Again, the camera offers no reaction.

Nagell, by contrast, denies any involvement, claiming at one point that as Vikernes’ thoughts drifted toward politics, his own moved farther into music, creating a rift between them. But he never directly condemns his contemporaries’ actions, either.

The filmmakers’ objectivity is a gift to their ability to let viewers reach their own conclusions, but focuses more on the personalities than the music. The pathology of a character such as Vikernes makes for good drama, but he wouldn’t be nearly so notorious if his black-metal movement hadn’t resulted in an interesting sound.

And since the sound left Norway, the music itself has been adopted and morphed into new and vastly more interesting contexts — something the documentary fails to recognize. The focus remains solely on the subset of Norwegian bands directly active during the periods of greatest controversy.

In the world outside the humorless documentary, many of black metal’s aesthetic traits, like those of other metal subgenres, are often treated as punchlines, both by detractors and admirers. The often-cartoonish facepainting and unyielding obsession with all things dark, grim or evil quickly gathers the feeling of juvenile and superficial attempts at shock value or of an adolescent pissing contest — one that was taken to violent extremes in Norway.

Musically, though, the genre has been adopted to varying degrees by a number of interesting artists. The aforementioned Xasthur’s solitary, depressive take on the genre is a grayscale panorama, in which subtle shadings can offer immense dimension.

Pacific Northwestern trio Wolves In The Throne Room counter Xasthur’s insularity by adopting the genre’s most expansive and triumphant sounds for their naturalistic Thoreau-meets-Slayer epics. Their vision of black metal evokes the wet, foggy chill of a dark redwood forest, but refuses to wallow in the darkness, and instead embraces the majesty of nature’s magnitude with sprawling 15-minute-plus meditations.

The similarly meditative Chicago outfit Locrian injects black metal’s trebly, buzzing guitars and hoarse vocals throughout their lengthy pieces — which also incorporate pensive drones and dynamic noise to build redemptive and mostly instrumental epics. But several times on this year’s superlative “Territories,” the trio goes at black metal full-bore. At one such instance, “Procession of Ancestral Brutalism,” the result is an exhilarating 11-minute upwell of patient, but potent, sonic force.

This works much like Horseback’s appropriation of the genre — which I wrote about last month — in creating a sense of struggle and triumph through challenging sounds and dramatic, expansive melodies. For Horseback, the harsh timbres and dark tones serve as an auditory metaphor for the struggle of self-actualization on the excellent album, “The Invisible Mountain.”

But no matter how many exciting, fresh, even uplifting contexts the sound might move into, it’s haunted by its origins. I’m forced to wonder if a sound can ever be forgiven for the sins of its fathers, and to question the relationship between art and artist. Trying to appreciate Burzum despite Varg Vikernes’ murder conviction and bigotry is similar to trying to appreciate Mel Gibson’s work as an actor and director despite his bigotry, or Roman Polanski’s work despite his pedophilia. Some will embrace the art and artist, some the art, but not the artist, and others will shun both entirely. I’m not sure there’s a right answer to these questions. I’m conflicted.

And so, apparently, is “Until The Light Takes Us.”

Even without poor recording clarity, it’s rare that a live record manages to capture not only song, but also a sense of place; rarely are we taken into the recording instead of merely hearing a facsimile of it. But occasionally, a live recording – not necessarily in front of an audience, mind you – pulls it off. One need look no further than the careers of Johnny Cash, Cheap Trick or Peter Frampton, whose careers were either boosted or kick-started by live albums.

But somehow, knowing that makes the average live recording worse, like it’s little more than a missed opportunity pressed onto plastic.

But when the transportative power of a live recording is, on those rare occasions, harnessed, it transforms the music into something bigger.

Luckily for Georgia indie rockers Venice Is Sinking that their first foray into live album making went so successfully. Their disc, Sand & Lines: The Georgia Theatre Sessions | May 20th-24th 2008, was recorded in the stately Georgia Theatre a year before it burned to cinders. Here, the theater is as much a part of the band as any of its members. Strings and vocal harmonies swell to fill the historic building, empty during these sessions. Contributions from auxiliary players littered through the cavernous venue alert us to the fact that this is no confined studio booth. Only two microphones were used to capture the sound, and the natural reverb, which developed because of this, gives a unique robustness to these songs.

On the two full-length albums that preceded “Sand & Lines,” Venice Is Sinking was a talented, promising and not-particularly noteworthy band, creating the sort of lush, cinematic indie rock that bands like Arcade Fire used as foundations to build careers. The Georgians, though, favored rich, melancholy tapestries woven from densely textured arrangements and somber pacing. Given the space to breathe – as they are here – Venice Is Sinking becomes something else entirely; they become almost redemptive.

Their set list is a seamless blend of originals and covers – Galaxie 500’s “Tugboat,” Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” and Waylon Jennings’ “The Wurlitzer Prize (I Don’t Want To Get Over You).” But the covers become entrancing, highlighting the character of the band, and giving credence to its influences – Galaxie 500’s shoe gaze and Parton and Jennings’ timeless country. Finally, Venice is Sinking brings its listeners into its songs, instead of just near them.

The similarly unknown, but differently styled, Chapel Hill outfit Hiss Golden Messenger accomplishes a similar feat with the limited release “Root Work: Live WFMU 2009.” While it’s not technically a proper live album – bandleader MC Taylor “spiced it up” at his Pittsboro homestead and in Brooklyn – it has the same transformative and transporting qualities of the finest proper live records. Chirping birds, whether authentic or synthetic, set the recording outdoors. This suits the loose, casual explorations Taylor takes with his songs here. Track lengths stretch, song strictures embrace diversion.

Though several of these songs appear on Hiss Golden Messenger’s 1009 LP “Country Hai East Cotton,” to say they’re repeated wouldn’t do justice. “John Has Gone To The Light” barely touched five minutes in the studio; here it pasts eight. Taylor leads his band through airy compositions lacing his casual songwriter fare with dub-reggae echo and jam-band meanders. But in the outdoor, presumably warm, setting the band has created for itself, and for us, these explorations are more than welcome. The band offers the same sort of rocking chair comfort as James Taylor, if he’d been recorded by dub legend Lee “Scratch” Perry. The graceful sprawl of Southwestern alt-folk bands like Calexico provides a gentle momentum as these songs yawn, cat-like, into activity.

Each of these records thrives on its sense of place: the cavernous, dusky theater or the sticky, endless summer sky. But setting makes music into travel, song into roadmap, artist into tour guide. Now, it’s up to justice to spin “Sand & Lines” or “Root Work” into “Frampton Comes Alive” or “At Folsom Prison.”

The Claudia Quintet with Gary Versace – “Royal Toast” (Cuneiform)
From slow-glow nocturnes to kinetic bouts of jazz aerobics, Royal Toast displays its players’ more-than-ample versatility. But what sticks is the sense of discovery that arrives upon hearing the range – in tone and emotion – the combo derives from its instruments, which include clarinet, vibraphone and a delightful, prominent accordion.
Sphinx

Tender Forever – “No Snare” (K)
After two Tender Forever albums that mostly lived up to the name, Melanie Valera shed most of her past work’s sweetness for a darker, more mysterious and more nuanced approach. It’s a good look for her. Like the Eurythmics, Valera uses her singular vocal phrasings and carefully sequenced backgrounds to explore the shaded corners of relationships.
Only the Sounds you Mad

Reflection Eternal – “Revolutions Per Minute” (Warner Bros.)
At the end of the day, no matter how solid the whole record might be, you’re unlikely to find a better pop-rap single this summer than “Midnight Hour.” Hi-Tek’s horn-blasts pop like bottle rockets; Talib Kweli stretches syllables like elastic; guest star Estelle steals the spotlight with a hook as commanding as the ladies of Ray Charles’ immortal “Hit The Road, Jack.”

Tift Merritt – “See You On The Moon” (Fantasy)
Pegging N.C.-bred songwriter Tift Merritt as a country singer didn’t work out so well; it was incomplete. Indeed, Merritt’s in deep debt to Patsy and Dolly, but she’s no slave to tradition. And with this, her most assured collection, Merritt drives her light-rocking narrative pieces to the fore of even-keeled singer/songwriter fare.
Engine to Turn

Delorean – “Subiza” (True Panther Sounds)
Here Delorean has managed to congeal beats and melodies into an impressionistic whole, smearing distant vocals across a late-night disco backdrop. Though its rhythms dig deep enough and push hard enough, there’s a fog on the dancefloor, like Panda Bear’s psychedelic meanders meeting M83’s nostalgic panoramas. This feels less suited for a night out than the drive home.
Stay Close

Peggy Sue – “Fossils and Other Phantoms” (Yep Roc)
English trio Peggy Sue seems at first to follow in the path of similarly styled popsmiths Lily Allen and Kate Nash. But the trio’s rustic instrumentation – spare drums, acoustic guitars, and accordion – seems to suggest a better, more British answer to the coy retro-pop of She & Him.

Ideal Bread – “Vol. 2 of The Music of Steve Lacy” (Cuneiform)
Soprano saxophone innovator Steve Lacy was, perhaps, best known for developing a very structured approach to free improvisation, which would seem to be oxymoronic until it’s heard in practice. Led by baritone saxophonist Josh Sinton, Ideal Bread reimagines the late innovator’s work, highlighting Lacy’s formal predilections, but filling the open spaces with thoughtful improvisations that move casually and even playfully through a fond remembrance.
As Usual

~ Bryan Reed

Alkaline Trio – This Addiction (Heart and Skull/Epitaph)
The stalwart pop-punks return to an indie label after the Epic-released Agony and Irony, and make up for lost time with a new collection that recalls their old ones by capturing the Trio’s trademark: witty wordplay in manic, punchy cuts.

Carolina Chocolate Drops – Genuine Negro Jig (Nonesuch)
The old-time revivalists have been picking up buzz from the NPR crowd lately, and it’s easy to see why. The trio’s back-porch string band aesthetic gets a contemporary list on this sophomore effort from covers of Blu Cantrell’s hit “Hit ‘Em Up Style” and Tom Waits’ “Trampled Rose.”

Hot Chip – One Life Stand (Astralwerks)
Unlike too many of their synth-pop peers, London’s Hot Chip actually knows how to write a song. The band had a hipster break out with the 2006 single “And I Was A Boy From School.” One Life Stand, the band’s fifth proper LP, is jam-packed with stellar “Boy From School”-worthy singles, not least of which is the gold-medal pop song that gives the album its title.

Minor Stars – The Death of The Sun in The SIlver Sea (Summer Secret)
Minor Stars is a start-up rock band from Chapel Hill with an ambitious and promising debut that draws psychedelic sprawl, power-pop hooks, heavy metal trudge and shograze ambience into a concoction as sweet as it is brawny.

Shearwater – The Golden Archipelago (Matador)
Shearwater is, and this is important to note, a rock band. They don’t shy away from dissonance or abrasive, bombastic bursts. But Shearwater’s music will always be pretty. And that’s all thanks to frontman Jonathan Meiburg and his Swarovski crystalline vocals. And his songs go much farther than the novelty of a classically-trained singer fronting an indie rock band.

Shellshag – Rumors In Disguise (Don Giovanni)
This duo blasts shaggy garage rock as catchy as a cold. Their slacker nonchalance is perfected in these 15 shuffling cuts. The songs are short, but once these earworms dig into your brain, they’re far from short-lived.

The Go Find – Everybody Knows It’s Gonna Happen Only Not Tonight (Morr Music)
On their latest, The Go Find keeps the rhythmic bounce and keyboard shimmer one might expect from the Morr Music label – known for Postal Service/Owl City-type electronic pop. But here there’s a strong current of Countrypolitan shuffle that gives the record just the songwriter bent it needs to illuminate the craftsmanship in these songs.

Title Tracks – It Was Easy (Ernest Jenning)
Former Q And Not U and Georgie James frontman John Davis now fronts this D.C.-based unit, and powers through Stiff Records pop bursts like a young Elvis Costello (if Costello were fortunate enough to duet with Scottish siren Tracyanne Campbell of Camera Obscura on his debut LP)

Toro Y Moi – Causers of This (Carpark)
South Carolina resident Chaz Bundick goes beyond the “chillwave” fad he’s often lumped into with this collection of hazy, late-night pop gems which marry ’90s R&B with late-night disco for a nostalgic look at youthful innocence through bleary grown-up eyes.

Tunng – …And Then We Saw Land (Thrill Jockey)
Tunng’s quiet and unassuming pop songs lean on their complex and unexpected arrangements to win over a listener. Banjos over auxiliary percussion; acoustic guitars over electronic burbles; rhythmic clatter and sweet harmonies. In their meetings of disparate sounds, Tunng makes a singularly sweet musical confection.

~ Bryan Reed

As a specialty shop, Lunchbox has been largely unaffected by the record industry’s catastrophic fall from grace that began around the turn of the millennium when a kid named Shawn Fanning developed a little computer program he called Napster. Internet file-sharing boomed, then gave way to digital music sales through services such as iTunes. All the while, CD sales busted with little help from the antagonizing efforts of the Recording Industry Association of America. Big box stores like Best Buy and Wal-Mart continually downsize the floor space devoted to music. At large, the future of recorded music looks dismal.

But at Lunchbox, business is just fine, thanks in no small part to the store’s unique and eclectic offerings—and helped along by a surprising resurgence in the popularity of the most outmoded of recording formats, vinyl records. Wishart, who has been in the music retail business since 1997, says, “I’ve always bought records, but when I first started, records were on the way out. Labels, especially big ones, weren’t even releasing them and it kind of continued that way until a few years ago.”

Today, I’m talking to Wishart with an armload of new (at least, new to me) records stretching the flimsy handles of the plastic bag in which they’re ensconced. He’s blasting “Old Wounds,” the latest CD from the Louisville, Ky.-based punk band Young Widows, through the store’s speakers as customers comb through shelves for hidden treasures. In the course of our conversation, Wishart sells three copies of the Charlotte-based band Yardwork’s self-titled EP to three customers. He sells an armload of obscure metal LPs to a couple who sheepishly admit that they didn’t intend to spend so much money. They couldn’t help it. “People like to own things,” Wishart says. “Even though you can go and download anything in the world, if you want to look at the art or something physical, it’s a nicer, more tangible product.”

“Me buying 1,000 records is just like some guy that has 200 pairs of shoes in his closet,” he adds. “It’s just different consumer addictions.”

And he’s happy to be the well-stocked dealer of choice for the Queen City’s discerning music junkies. As record stores close nationwide, Lunchbox keeps its doors open. As the record industry as we know it spirals downward, Lunchbox’s CD sales stay constant, and even rise some months. And with vinyl’s new vogue status, Lunchbox reaps the benefits of being one of only a small number of retail outlets in town carrying the hip toy. Says Wishart, “Most stores it’s like less than 10 percent of their sales, and for me it’s like around 40 percent from [vinyl] records.”

Success stories like Lunchbox are beginning to perk journalists’ ears nationwide, too. News stories in big-time publications like Time, “The Chicago Tribune,” and Wired Magazine and on NPR all point to a dramatic resurgence in vinyl’s viability as a recording format. Industry statistics showed a 15.4 percent increase in vinyl sales from 2006 to 2007 – from 858,000 records to 990,000, overall. But that doesn’t include small stores like Lunchbox. More telling are the record-pressing plants that can’t keep up with demand, the small record labels offering vinyl editions of albums also available on CD or digital formats, or the mere fact that retail giants such as Best Buy and Amazon.com have begun making room for vinyl records.
What, then, would bring a younger generation of music fans back to the format their parents discarded years ago? Well, price could be a factor. Used records often sell for much less than a new – or even a used – CD. While visiting Lunchbox, I bought used vinyl copies of Willie Nelson’s classic “Red Headed Stranger” and Marvin Gaye’s essential “Let’s Get It On” for a paltry $6 each. There’s the collectible nature of records, as well. The cover art is much bigger, making them seem more like a keepsake than CDs for many consumers. Records also tend to be more limited in quantity than their 5-inch counterparts. Most records are limited to only a few thousand – even for bigger releases. Boutique records are often made into limited-edition items with mere hundreds of copies in existence. Plus, say some consumers, a record just sounds better.

Or does it? “If you have good equipment, yes it does sound better,” says Wishart. “But, I mean, most people have crappy record players. If you get one of those crappy USB Ion turntables, and you play it on that, versus a CD player through a real stereo, the CD player’s gonna sound way better.”

He adds, “Then people talk about, ‘Oh, I like the pops and clicks of vinyl.’ If you have pops and clicks in your vinyl you have scratched-up records and you’re not taking care of them. That’s not what records are about. Good records sound good. If you have pops and clicks then you’re doing something wrong. That’s like saying, ‘I got a hamburger and there’s pieces of bone in it, but I like that because it makes it more homey.’”

So without audiophile equipment or misguided notions of aural “authenticity,” it would seem consumers are left with little incentive to purchase a record over a CD. And that’s why many records offer a little something extra. On their Top 100-charting album “The Second Gleam,” Concord’s favorite sons The Avett Brothers offer two extra songs exclusive to the LP version. Many record labels also have begun to include coupons for free MP3 downloads with LPs, giving customers the improved sound quality and novelty of owning vinyl and the convenience of the digital format.

But even at a vinyl-centric store like Lunchbox, CDs are still the most prevalent format. “There’s only been a couple months where I’ve sold more records than CDs,” says Wishart. Despite the Chicken Little claims of music-industry reports, it seems unlikely the CD will ever disappear entirely. “They’re too cheap to make,” Wishart opines, suggesting the 5-inch plastic discs might eventually assume an entirely promotional role, or become the province of small, local bands eager to get their music out quickly and cheaply.

This, of course, leaves a wide opportunity for vinyl to reassume its position as the dominant physical format for audio – especially in the realm of independent music. “Some genres never stopped making records,” Wishart says. “All the indie rock stuff always came on records…if you go down to Reggae Central they still sell 45s that they get from Jamaica because they never stopped making them.” And as more and more independent – and even local – bands begin to release records, it certainly seems to be possible. The Raleigh-based punk band Double Negative released its debut, “The Wonderful And Frightening World of Double Negative,” exclusively on vinyl in 2007. It sold out its initial pressing in a matter of days. Wishart runs a boutique label that has released 7-inch EPs from local bands Obstruction and Calabi Yau. And the sale of turntables has increased, as has their availability in mainstream outlets like Urban Outfitters and Target.

Already, vinyl records have moved beyond the scope of obsessive collectors and teenagers unearthing their parents’ dusty collections in the attic. The once-obsolete format, it seems, is regaining its footing in a very real way. Just spend some time in Lunchbox Records watching the customers entering in waves as they file through the store’s inventory for a dusty classic or a shrink-wrapped new release.

~ Bryan Reed

The good news is that 2009 was another great year for music.  Sure, the industry will cry about how they’re losing money, but smart acts are pushing the envelope more than ever before, challenging themselves to produce unique, high-quality work that makes them stand out.  This is a quick glance at five such artists that left a positive impression on me in 2009.  Be sure to check some of these out and comment below.  I’d love to hear what you think of the music and my recommendation.

Them Crooked Vultures

DNA: Sum of their parts

Panacea, A Mind On A Ship Through Time