Favorite Albums of 2015

With each passing year, it gets harder and harder for me to make these lists. It’s not that I’m less interested in music. More like my fingers seem to get further and further from the pulse of the music industry and what is popular now.

I’m 36, so this was bound to happen. There are whole new genres of music that I am simply not aware of.

Dubstazz? A mashup of dubstep and jazz? Really?! This was a style of music that someone actually thought the world needed to hear?

CDM? I can’t even stand to listen to mainstream country music or mainstream dance music. Why would I subject myself to Country Dance Music? In fact, why would actual /fans/ of country do this to themselves? Two scions of country music who knew how to whip a crowd into a dancing fury, Earl Scruggs and Lester Flatt, have got to be turning in their graves.

Heroine Pop? A good friend played a Lana Del Ray track for me a couple years ago. It wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t half great, either. It just was. And really, let’s be honest here, Lana Del Ray, Charli XCX, and Iggy Azalea sound like second-tier 1980s pornstarlet names.

Despite all of that, over the past year I have noticed a few interesting and encouraging trends in music — jazz making it’s way back into indie rock, the rise of grunge-revivalists, more politically-aware songwriters finding their voice. Foremost for me has been the rise of the empowered, no-nonsense female lead singer. I’ve long been a fan of Neko Case and Sleater-Kinney and other female-fronted groups. And while they obviously had some sort of influence on the younger generation, there’s something different about this younger crop of artists.

The songwriting feels much more like a statement of their womanhood rather than an excuse. Too often, it felt like female artists either avoided their sex almost entirely, fell back on stereotypes, or subsumed it by trying to write and sing like “the guys” did. While they were consistently turning out very good music, none felt fully authentic.

That’s not a knock on those artists at all. It’s an acknowledgment of the societal and generational norms that they operated within and the music industry that shaped their sound in one way or another so that it would palatable to the right audiences.

For example — No Doubt’s “Just A Girl” pushed against the silly stereotypes that confined women at the time, but Gwen singing in her cutsy, pouty little girl voice effectively neutered the harshest social critiques in the song.

So when I hear musicians like Bully singer/songwriter/guitarist Alicia Bognanno sing about one-night stands, waiting for her period, and getting hit by a man — with no apologies, no excuses, and an attitude that definitely does not give a single fuck — the difference is palpable.

It’s also wonderful.

So many very good records came out of that younger crop of female artists this year. We were treated to great records from Summer Cannibals, Hop Along, Ibeyi, Courtney Barnett, Alabama Shakes, Coleen Green, Torres, Eskimeaux, Palehound, Beach House, and Natasha Kmeto, and many more.

Women making music that is true to their experience without trying to sand off the rough edges or cater to male expectations of female artists is exhilarating to hear. That punkish, Patti Smith-type of self-confidence is, honestly, incredibly attractive — and not necessarily in a sexual way. I’ve always enjoyed hearing people who are being true, in one way or another, to themselves. It takes guts to put yourself out there like that.

That true-ness is a common thread in the records that caught my ear this year (and, honestly, most years), so why not jump right into my favorite records from?

Recently, I’ve held off on actually arranging my picks in a true, numbered “Top 10,” opting for a random list. It’s a cop-out, of course, but one I readily took. But as I started putting together my list this year, it became clear almost immediately what my top two records were, so why not let that continue?

Here are some of my favorite records from the year that was.

1. Titus Andronicus — A Most Lamentable Tragedy

2. Kendrick Lamar — To Pimp A Butterfly

3. Torres — Sprinter

4. Bully — Feels Like

5. Divers — Hello Hello

6. Sleater-Kinney — No Cities to Love

7. Protomartyr — The Agent Intellect

8. Jason Isbell — Something More Than Free

9. Young Fathers — White Men Are Black Men, Too

10. Courtney Barnett — Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit

Just missed the cut

Dan Deacon — Glass Riffer

Summer Cannibals — Show Us Your Mind

Father John Misty — I Love You, Honeybear

Tom Brosseau — Perfect Abandon

Joe Pug — Windfall

The Mountain Goats — Beat the Champ

Alabama Shakes — Sound and Color

The Tallest Man on Earth — Dark Bird is Home

Leon Bridges — Coming Home Algiers — Algiers

Natasha Kmeto — Inevitable

Son Little — Son Little

Beach Slang — The Things We Do to Find People Who Feel Like Us

The Districts — A Flourish and a Spoil

Favorite Albums of 2014

Top 50, Top 100, Top 25, Top 5, Top 10. They’re everywhere. A million different opinions flood the internet this time of year, each vying for your attention, screaming “Me, me mememe! I have the best taste in music!!”

If we’re being honest, any and all of these lists are entirely subjective (especially this one), and in the end, are kind of pointless. Yet still we feel the need to share. It’s a natural by-producte of any sort of artistic expression. Once a piece of art touches you, you feel the need to share it with those around you in hopes that they will enjoy it as much as you did.

Of course, that’s not always the case.

What [Bob Boilen] or the [AV Club] or [Aquarium Drunkard] or [Pitchfork] think was the hottest of hot shit may not pique your interest. Then again, you may discover a gem that you missed in their lists. I know I did. In fact, one of the albums that ended up on my list this year is just such a late-arriver. I’m not proud of missing out on it in the first place, but I’m a busy man, I can’t possibly catch everything.

In fact, I try to avoid other lists like the plague as I’m trying to construct my own. I like to think that isolating myself from outside opinions will keep my own choices “pure.” That is, of course, complete bullshit. I read the same publications, media orgs, and blogs throughout the year. I know what their opinions on records and artists are. Plus, I’m bound to stumble across at least a few Top Whatever lists. But, I do try to limit how many I do see. I want these picks to be as much my own as I can manage.

It may just be me, but 2014 has felt like a banner year for music. The complete album continues to make it’s surprising comeback, just a few years after it was declared dead and the digital single was crowned the new king of music. As an increasingly older fella, one who grew up on the ebb and flow of full albums, I love this reniassance for the full album. It’s a joy to see concept albums and albums with themes and over-arching narratives again. I’ve always liked being taken on a journey.

Without any further ado, let’s get to my list. Once again, these are albums that were my favorites from the past year. I’ve long since stopped trying to pretend that I’m presenting you with the “best” albums of the past year, because, like I said earlier, it’s all subjective. Plus, I miss a fair amount of stuff. There are also a few albums (St. Vincent, for one) that I listened to this year that are objectively “better” than some of my choices below. I simply happened to like these albums more.

Here’s the list, in no particular order.

Spoon — They Want My Soul

Most every Spoon record since Kill the Moonlight in 2002 has made it onto my year end list. Like clockwork, every two to three years you were going to get a rock solid album. But 2010's Transference sounded a little tired in places, worn out, like they were pressing. And who could really blame Britt Daniel and crew? They had put out four straight killer records and spent nearly a decade atop the indie music scene. That’s going to wear on anyone.

Turns out, four years away made all the difference. You can hear the rejuvenation throughout They Want My Soul. From the summer-friendly “Rainy Taxi” and “Do You,” to referencing the classic “Jonathan Fisk” in the title track “They Want My Soul,” you hear a band enjoying themselves. Maybe it was the time away working on other projects (Divine Fits), or adding new member Alex Fischel (keys, guitar), or working with a new producer on a new label. Whatever the catalyst, the end result was one of my favorite records of 2014.

Black Pistol Fire — Hush or Howl

Sometimes I crave simplicity. It’s what attracted me to the White Stripes and the Black Keys. The primal duo of guitar and drums just gets me. So when I first saw Black Pistol Fire perform a studio session for KEXP, I was all-in.

Drummer Eric Owen wearing running shorts, athletic gloves, a full beard, and nothing else was a surefire indication that, come hell or high water, these guys came to rock. And that’s just what Hush or Howl does.

There’s beauty in simplicity, and riffs like the opener in “Hipster Shakes” (one of the songs of the year, in my humble opinion) or the backbeat that churns through “Dimestore Heartthrob” are indicative of musicians who know who they are and know exactly how to deliver their own kind of beauty.

Hush or Howl may not be the most innovative, experimental record, and Black Pistol Fire is certainly barreling down a well-rutted road. But sometimes it’s not how much new ground you cover as much as how well you churn up that dirt.

Centro-Matic — Take Pride In Your Long Odds

I first heard about Centro-Matic on Twitter. I was scrolling through my feed one day when I came across a tweet from Justin Townes Earle -

“This record is incredible. Do yourself a favor and get it when it comes out. Don’t be a dick.”

So in an effort not to be a dick, I grabbed that record.

I had never heard Centro-Matic before, so I had no earthly idea what to expect. The rusty-nail guitar, haunting organ, and distant wail of the album-opening title track captured my attention. What was this I was listening to? Was it some sort of concept record, a broken-down version of Explosions in the Sky?

Listening to Take Pride in Your Long Odds, it’s hard to believe that I completely missed out on this band for the entirity of their existence. If they had only put out a couple of records over a long period of time, like say, The Wrens or Cotton Mather, I could excuse the oversight. But this is Centro-Matic’s 11th full length.

Dipping into their back catalog, they’re obviously my cup of tea. Yet here we are, they’re calling it quits for good, and I’ve only just fell in love with their music. It’s a fucking shame. But at least I have their back catalog to explore.

If you’re going to pack it in after 17 years and 11 albums, it’s hard to think of a more triumphant way to do it than with a record like this one. Every song weaves a vivid story, shot through with fuzzed-out guitar and whiskey-weary vocals.

Jack White — Lazaretto

It’s been interesting to watch Jack White go from scrappy Detroit rocker to one of the few bona fide “rock gods” of my generation. I mean, aside from Dave Grohl, who else fits that bill?

Lazaretto sounds like an album made by a man who knows exactly what he wants to say and how he wants to say it. Whether seething through “Entitlement” or digging in for some guitar histronics on “High Ball Stepper,” White’s doing what he wants without stopping to worry about the consequences. I mean, the first single is an instrumental. This from a musician who is almost as well known for his signature howl as he is for his guitar sound.

And if there was a better “fuck you, I do what I want” song than “That Bat Black Licorice” released this year, I’ll eat my hat.

Jack White rapping to a hip-hop backbeat seems like it should be surprising at first. But then you remember that this is a man who came to fame wearing candy cane outfits and pretending to be brother-sister with his ex-wife, Meg.

Lazaretto jumps around a lot. From country to prog to blues to hip hop to straight up White Stripes punk. All of it tied together around Jack’s carefully crafted persona. This is the sound of Jack White having a hell of a lot of fun, getting some shit off his chest, and expecting us to like it. I’ll be damned if he didn’t nail it.

Robert Ellis — The Lights from the Chemical Plant

I came to this album late in the year. But I get the feeling it’s going to stay with me for awhile. Great songwriting does that. It worms it’s way into your brain and makes a home.

Ellis evokes some of the best country music storytellers, like John Prine or Willie Nelson, and storytelling songwriters in general. Even going so far as to include his faithful-but-full-of-life cover of Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy After All These Years.”

At a time when a contemporary sounding album can sound out of place, Lights sounds like a Nashville studio album without going over the top into schmaltz, an impressive feat. This isn’t the highly-polished corporate country you hear on the radio, but it isn’t quite outlaw country, either.

The Lights from the Chemical Plant is only Ellis’ second full-length, but it certainly doesn’t sound like it. There isn’t any filler, no throwaway songs. It ebbs and flows and every song, even the standouts like the title track or “Steady as the Rising Sun” sound better in context with the rest of the album. So sit back, crack open a beer, and settle in to Ellis’ consistently entertaining album.

Sharon Van Etten — Are We There

It takes real talent to turn sadness, melancholy, existential pain into triumphant art. Sharon Van Etten is one of those people.

Are We There builds on the sonic palette of 2012's excellent Tramp and at the same time, reconfigures it into an even more intimate sound. Tramp’s producer, Aaron Dessner of The National, left his fingerprints all over that album, and Sharon must’ve taken notes. She self-produced Are We There and a more personal touch is evident from the opener, “Afraid of Nothing.” The instrumentation floats above Van Etten’s husky-yet-delicate voice. Instead of weighing her down, it lifts her up.

Even at her most explicitly vulnerable in “Your Love is Killing Me” — /Break my legs so I won’t walk to you/cut my tongue so I can’t talk to/burn my skin so I can’t feel you/stab my eyes so I can’t see/you like it when I let you walk over me/you tell me that you like it when our minds become diseased —/ there is an underlying sense of being in control. Instead of being consumed, she finds strength, and we benefit, because front to back, Are We There is a fantastic album.

Benjamin Booker — S/T

Booker calls his sound “punk blues,” a moniker that immediately draws me in. I love the blues. I love punk. I grew up with Pearl Jam and Nirvana and came of age with The White Stripes and Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, so anyone using “punk” and “blues” to describe their music has me hooked from the get-go.

In Benjamin Booker’s case, it helps to kick off your album with a perfect rave up like “Violent Shiver.” The hits just keep on coming as you get further into his self-titled debut. There’s loss, there’s anger, there’s the sense of detachment of a new generation coming into it’s own. Each song feels like a postcard — earnest and direct with no time for fluff.

This is one of the more promising debuts I can think of in recent years. Booker has made one hell of an introduction. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say next.

Strand of Oaks — HEAL

Not many of us can say that we’ve ended up just where we imagined we’d be when we were teenagers. Justin Showalter can, even if it’s been a rocky ride to get there. HEAL is a triumphant, celebratory, and at times brutally honest record. Showalter pulls no punches, with lines like — /“I know you cheated on me, but I cheated on myself” —/ a reference to his high school sweetheart cheating on him after they had gotten married.

HEAL is a catharsis. A cleaning out of hangups and regrets and disappointments to make way for remembrance of the good, like making music in a basement, finding beauty in loneliness (Goshen ‘97) — /“Then I found my dad’s old tape machine That’s where the magic began I was lonely, I was having fun / I was lonely, but I was having fun.”/

HEAL feels like a man pouring everything he has into one cup and asking you to not just take a sip, but drink the whole thing.

Tom Brosseau — Grass Punks

I first heard Tom Brosseau in 2007. His album, Grand Forks, initially caught my attention because it’s not very often I see things titled after the area where I grew up (The movie Fargo is the only other one I can think of). It wasn’t until I sat down and listened to it that I realized what a brilliant musician and songwriter Brosseau is.

The fact that such a talent was growing up right across the river (he’s almost exactly three years older than I am), coupled with his remembrances of the historic Flood of 97 that permeated that record, made it hit even harder. We saw that devastation with similar eyes. Even the most subtle reference hit like a hammer.

Grass Punks is more playful. From the opening “Cradle Your Device,” it’s clear that Brosseau is reveling in his talents. This culminates in the unabashed “I Love to Play Guitar,” before the heartfelt coda of “We Were Meant to Be Together.”

This is another great album by one of the better songwriters out there today. At times melancholy, at times playful, this record is a joy to listen to from start to finish.

The War on Drugs — Lost in the Dream

This is what nostalgia sounds like, if it were warped and twisted and run through about five different effects pedals and slathered in a shimmery glaze.

I liked The War on Drugs second record, Slave Ambient, but I love Lost in the Dream. The man behind The War on Drugs (War on Druggist?), Adam Granduciel, seems to have found the best parts of the 80s and used them to their fullest. There are also some elements of shoegaze throughout the record and the songwriting is often heartachiningly beautiful.

I really don’t know what to say about Lost in the Dream. It’s just an album that you have to sit down and live with for a bit. Like so many of my favorite albums from this year, it’s one that needs to be listened to as just that, an album. Individually, the songs are fantastic, especially the wide-open “Under the Pressure” and the driving “An Ocean Between the Waves.” But taken altogether, it’s a pretty great high.

!!!Last-minute Addition!!!

Vikesh Kapoor — The Ballad of Willy Robbins

I didn’t hear this album until midway through 2014, and on the Bandcamp page, it says “released 15 October 2013.” But I’ve now seen it pop up on [Rough Trade’s Top 100 of 2014 at #70](http://www.brooklynvegan.com/archives/2014/11/rough_trades_fa.html). I’m taking that as license to tack /The Ballad of Willy Robbins/ onto my list, as well.

I’ve had the amazing opportunity to work on a concert series this year as a videographer and editor. The series is called Stagepass and we’ve been featuring local and regional bands from Portland and the surrounding area.

Basically, I’ve been getting paid to do what is a dream job for an a/v nerd who loves live music. Crazy.

We’ve had so many fantastic musicians be a part of this series, but so far one of my favorites has been Vikesh Kapoor.

Ever since I heard songs like “This Land is Your Land” and “Big Rock Candy Mountain” as a kid, I’ve been partial to folk music. It wasn’t necessarily something I sought out, but when I did stumble across it, like with Wilco and Billy Bragg’s Mermaid Avenue albums, I was always enjoyed it. Those kinds of artists are, unfortunately, few and far between these days.

So when I picked up The Ballad of Willy Robbins to familiarize myself with Vikesh’s music before the show, I was blown away.

I believe that we need protest songs and story songs that illustrate the lives of everyday struggles of everyday people. It may not be the most commercial path for an artist to take, but listening to Vikesh tell how his music moved people makes me think that it can still be a very worthwhile path in this day and age.

The Ballad of Willy Robbins is a damn fine record. that would have been a hit 40, 50, 60 years ago, and is rightfully garnering plenty of praise today. Vikesh’s strong, clear voice and excellent songwriting paint such vivid, world-weary stories that it’s hard to believe he’s still in his 20s.

Just Missed the Cut:

Sallie Ford — Slap Back

Mimicking Birds — Eons

Ex Hex — Rips

Angel Olsen — Burn Your Fire for No Witness

Run the Jewels — RTJ2

Black Prairie — Fortune

EDJ — EDJ

Augustines — Augustines

Afghan Whigs — Do to the Beast

Frazey Ford — Indian Ocean

The Hum — Hookworms

J Mascis — Tied to a Star

Favorite Albums of 2013

I managed to listen to 50-odd records this year. Some were great. Some were just terrible. Some left me stymied at first, only to reveal themselves later.

Have you ever listened to an album, or a song, or an artist and the music matches up with the moment you’re in so perfectly that it makes both immeasurably better than they would be on their own? And whenever you listen to it after that, the moment comes back with lush, jarring clarity? Man, I love it when that happens. I had that happen a couple of times this year.

So these are my favorite records for the year that was 2013. I tried narrowing it down to a true Top 10, but my indecisiveness reared it’s ugly head and I’m stuck at 11. So, screw it, it’s a Top 11 for 2013.

Modern Kin — S/T

The debut record from Modern Kin is a live wire. The whole thing crackles with energy. It might just be because I’m a sucker for gospel-tinged rock and soul, but I highly doubt it. Keep an eye on these guys.

Chvrches — The Bones of What You Believe

Everyone has a guilty pleasure. Usually, my guilty pleasure records aren’t worth including on a year-end list because they’re simply not that good. Behind the synth-y 80s pop panache is a very well-crafted record. And Lauren Mayberry’s vocals bounce between Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, which, oddly, is part of the appeal for me. Perhaps I’m just getting sappy for my youth…

Superchunk — I Hate Music

A record inspired by a long-time friend who passed away, I Hate Music showcases what Superchunk does best. Full of wistful nostalgia for times gone by, there is still a beacon of hope running throughout. One of the best eulogies I’ve ever heard.

I really hate quoting myself, but in my review of the album earlier this year, I think I summed up what I love about this record pretty well — Low F is particularly haunting. Echoed guitar lines bubble under the aching remembrance of /“You caught me singing, said ‘can you meet me down at low F?’ / and I missed the question, but you got your answer, ‘yes yes.’”/ That’s the kind of line that just lights up my spine and makes my head swim. A double-hit of saccharine sweetness and sour regret. You can picture both the youthful moment and the wistful reminiscence, making your heart swell just to squeeze it just a little too hard.

Neko Case — The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You

When I first heard of Neko Case, she was the fire-haired vixen of early-aughts indie darlings The New Pornographers. She blasted through their pop sensibility with a blowtorch of a voice. Watching her get from there to here has been quite the ride. Life takes us in interesting directions, though, and Case has grown into one of the better songwriters out there. Don’t you ever shut up, Neko. Kid, have your say.

Typhoon — White Lighter

Typhoon’s maestro, Kyle Morton, assembled a group that provides a wonderful cacophony of sound around his paeans to a lost childhood and an uncertain future. Loss, frustration, anger, and hope — sometimes all at once, wind through this record — and it’s beautiful. This is sound of adulthood in the second decade of the 21st century, with horns and hand claps. I don’t do a proper numbered list anymore, but I assure you that Typhoon’s White Lighter is right at the top.

Mikal Cronin — MCII

Wide-eyed power pop is one of my musical weaknesses. Anything that even has a whiff of the Beach Boys or Big Star snaps me to attention like a dog whistle. Sure, intricate, thought-provoking lyrics and experimental instrumentation are great, but when I just want to rock and feel good, albums like Cronin’s MCII are where I turn. This is top-down-on-a-cool-summer-evening kind of music. The way that it crescendos, with the sparse “Piano Mantra” slowly building to a fuzzed-out catharsis, is absolutely perfect.

Jason Isbell — Southeastern

For heartache and pain, you’ll always get more bang for your buck with a country album. Jason Isbell delivers that and more on his latest solo release. All of it bound up in well-crafted songs that showcase Isbell’s considerable talent. I don’t know if Isbell gets any play on country stations at all. My local country station has him listed on their “artist search,” but a quick perusal of their playlists shows a steady stream of pop-country crap — Faith Hill, Jason Aldean, Lady Antebellum, Miranda Lambert, etc, etc, etc. It says something about the current state of things when albums that the icons of country music would praise, like Southeastern, can’t even get whiff of airplay. It’s a fucking shame, really, because Isbell knocks them all out of the water.

Jagwar Ma — Howlin

One minute, I’d never heard of Jagwar Ma. The next, everyone and their brother was recommending it as fast as they could. The hype is deserved. A record with so much going on should sound unfocused, but it fits together so tightly that it’s almost hard to imagine Motown revival without a dash of electronica and pinch of psych rock. For someone like myself who grew up during the regrettable rise of rap-rock like Limp Bizkit and 311, it’s nice to see the next generation melding good music together for a change.

Savages — Silence Yourself

While melody and songwriting are always important attributes to a good record, there is something to be said for malice. The blues first gave it a tangible voice, rock and roll refined and glossed it up and then punk stripped it back to the bone. There is malice in this record. It’s powerful and barely contained. It manifests in primal howls, sludgy guitar riffs that explode into angular peals of distress, and rolling bass lines that sound like billy clubs ready for a beatdown, with animalistic drumming driving all of it forward. There is more than a hint of Fugazi and Minor Threat running throughout Silence Yourself, so I can dig it.

Charles Bradley — Victim of Love

It sounds weird to say that you hear growth in the sophomore album of a man who is 65 years old. But Victim of Love sounds like a more mature and better-crafted record than No Time for Dreaming, in my opinion. I especially like the psychadelia-tinged “Confusion.” Artists like Charles Bradley and Sharon Jones give me hope that the cream eventually rises to the top, if you just stick to your guns. I feel privileged to get to listen to artists who are almost direct connection to the old Motown hits I grew up loving.

Phosphorescent — Muchacho

This record sounds like a half-remembered dream, or maybe just the morning after. Every echo hangs in the air like lazy dust motes in a shaft of sunshine. It helps that it features one of my favorite songs of the year in “Song for Zula,” but the remainder is extremely strong. Muchacho is one of those albums that has to be listened to as such. It’s a mood, a feeling, and it can transport you if you let it.

So that’s my list, unordered and unorganized and likely incomplete. I always tend to discover one or two records after the fact that make me regret not including them. But that’s the nature of compiling a list, I guess. No one list is ever definitive. I try to keep myself from perusing other’s year-end lists while I’m putting my own together, but once I post this, I’ll be combing through them, looking both for validation for my own choices and for gems that I may have missed. And speaking of gems, how about a quick rundown of some of my favorite songs of the year? For shits and giggles, I’ll number this one -

1. Phosphorescent — Song for Zula.

2. Neko Case — Calling Cards

3. Typhoon — Artificial Light

4. Low — Just Make It Stop

5. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds — Higgs Boson Blues

6. Sin Fang — What’s Wrong With Your Eyes

7. Steve Earle — Remember Me

8. Mikal Cronin — Shout it Out

9. Jagwar Ma — The Throw

10. Wavves — Demon to Lean On

11. Jason Isbell — Elephant

12. Radiation City — Foreign Bodies

13. Sleigh Bells — Bitter Rivals

14. Pearl Jam — Mind Your Manners

15. Yo La Tengo — The Point of It

16. On An On — The Hunter

17. Guards — Giving Out

18. The Joy Formidable — Silent Treatment

19. Genders — Technicolor Vision

20. Modern Kin — Unannounced

Favorite Albums of 2012

It's that time of year when I strain to set down in list form my favorite albums from the past 12 months. Never an easy task, it's still one that I look forward to year after year. It falls right into my wheelhouse of loving order through lists and loving music.

Each year that passes, it seems to get more and more difficult to pare the list down to ten. At the same time, it gets more difficult to stay open to new and different music and artists. You hit your 30s and the tendency is to settle in for the long haul, disregard that which you don't immediately "get" or that you don't already know, and plow ahead into your 40s listening to the same soundtrack that carried you through your late teens/early 20s.

It's not easy. I still hold so much love for the bands I fell for back in my "prime" - The Wrens, The Mountain Goats, Apples in Stereo, The Thermals, Spoon, etc. - and they're all still putting out good music (The Wrens aside, obviously). It helps that 2012 was a good year for music. Plenty of artists hitting their stride and others coming back stronger than ever.

As I have the past few years, I declined to numerically rank these albums. They're my Top Ten for the year, but in what order I have no idea. I could give you general positions, like that Titus Andronicus is definitely near the top and so is Sera Cahoone. Cat Power and Japandroids are in the middle somewhere. Bobby Womack and Sharon Van Etten are in the bottom half, whatever that means.

As with any list, some didn't quite make the cut. For the sake of brevity, I'll point out three-

Justin Townes Earle, Nothing's Gonna Change the Way You Feel About Me Now A wonderful record, but only as wonderful as his others. Nothing new, but still very nice.

Cotton Mather - Kontiki (Deluxe Edition) A reissue of a stunningly overlooked power pop gem from the late 90s.

Robert Glasper - Black Radio If this is where jazz is heading, I like it. I like it a lot.

And now, on to the list!

Titus Andronicus - Local Business

What can I say about this album? Since it's release, I think I've fallen in love with each and every track for at least a day or two each. I play them over and over and over again, absorbing every single riff, every single diatribe, and I still haven't gotten sick of any of them. (okay, maybe Food Fight)

Titus were already riding pretty high after one of my favorites of 2010, The Monitor. With a more stable, tighter lineup this time around, They sound better than ever. It's not that the burrs and rough edges weren't endearing and engrossing. The mood that was set on their first few albums provided some of the best moments. Local Business is Titus Andronicus taking care of business in a slightly more efficient and organized way. I've never heard such discontent with society and self expressed with such an exuberant musical backdrop.

If this is what the generation under mine has to say, both lyrically and musically, I'm all for it. Hell, I'll be waiting for the insurrection with open arms.

Cat Power - Sun

Don't call it a comeback. Okay…call it a comeback. Cat Power's first album of new material in six years is an uppercut that connects squarely and knocks you on your back. When we last heard Chan belt out her own tunes, it was with a pastiche of old soul. Now she's back with a much darker, electronic-driven sound that is less a reinvention than a revelation.

The opening track, Cherokee, sounds at once desperate and confident, and it sets the tone perfectly. This is a gritty album. Chan's songwriting comes at you from street-level, not from high above. Ruin is a whirlwind trip around the globe set to a wonderfully circular piano line that reinforces that we are, in fact, "sittin' on a ruin." 3,6,9 brings out the swagger that walked all over her last album, The Greatest, while grappling with addiction and sobriety. Sun is a testament to Chan Marshall's resilience and talent, and I for one am glad to have her back after hiatus.

Oh, and Manhattan is probably one of the most darkly beautiful songs about New York City ever written. Hell, I don't think I've ever heard Man-HAttan ever sound so sexy.

The Tallest Man on Earth - There’s No Leaving Now

You could always feel a hesitant distance in Kristian Matsson's music. It was enthralling and starkly beautiful, but always at arms length. There's No Leaving Now loses that distance, and, in the process, pulls the listener in. Lines like "I was more than just a coward / I was handsome, too / I felt nothing when your flood came down" from Revelation Blues just knock you back and make you chuckle at the same time. Each song is it's own little tale that you wish could go on forever.

The musical and lyrical expansion that this album over previous Tallest Man on Earth albums makes this both wholly new and entirely comforting. You can feel an artist much more comfortable and at-ease finally taking the time to stretch out and explore.

Japandroids - Celebration Rock

Anyone who has ever played or enjoyed watching any kind of sport (not golf or bowling) knows that one player or team who, once the match/game/whatever started, went 1000mph with seemingly no regard for their own body and with no apparent intention of saving any ounce of energy.

That's the Japandroids, whether you see them live or just sit down and put on one of their albums. They strap in and power straight ahead, giving it everything they've got, with no regard for the future. Celebration Rock is like a full-frontal assault with instruments and shouted choruses, and it's beautiful.

This is not just an album of glorious nights of partying and living life to it's fullest. It's the aural embodiment and expression of those things. It's a bar rock band reaching for arena rock heights, probably best exemplified by The House That Heaven Built - "when they love you and they will / tell them all they'll love in my shadow / and if they try to slow you down / tell them all to go to hell." Selfishly, I hope they never reach those heights. Seeing them in a cramped bar, shoulder to shoulder, the crowd and band one churning mass.

It's the kind of album that can make you, if only for eight songs, feel 22 and on top of the world again.

Joe Pug - The Great Despiser

A big reason I liked Joe Pug's latest album - and all of his albums, really - is how much they remind me of where I grew up.

Pug often sounds like he's singing to his younger self. Especially with lines like - "they called you a dreamer / we were 17 / the years went by so fast / now they call you other things / all the answers that you're dreaming of / they say it's natural, but a grown man learns how to give them up" - from Silver Harps and Violins. Part of the fun of listening to artists your age is hearing them deal with the same problems you're facing. They just make them sound better.

Pug was a carpenter before he became a full-time musician, and the workmanlike pace of his songs shows it. They're solid and well-constructed and his backing band, guitarist Greg Touhey and bassist Chris Merrill, really shine live. The lyrics are the true substance and The Great Despiser, just like Pug's previous releases, delivers in spades.

Sharon Van Etten - Tramp

This is not an album for a beautiful, sunny day. It's best listened to in gloom and grey. It's not a summer album, it's a winter and fall album. This isn't because it's unbearably depressing, though there is depression. There is also plenty of self-criticism and vivid portraits of relationships soured and chances taken. It's inward-looking and shoe top-gazing, but it also showcases Van Etten's poignant songwriting - filled with half-thoughts and implications - and powerfully vulnerable voice.

The production work done by The National's Aaron Dessner really shines on Tramp, as well. There are moments, like toward the end of Serpents where it echoes the indie wall of sound that The National employ almost too often, in my opinion. When it shows up here, it's tempered and well-timed, and it suits the rough silk of Van Etten's voice perfectly. This is exemplified in the sparseness of standouts like Kevin's and In Line. The pained wail at the end of In Line goes right to your bones and raises the hair on the back of your neck. Tramp is a album that stays with you long after it's over.

Bobby Womack - The Bravest Man in the Universe

The 2010s have seen a weird resurgence for elder statesmen of soul, with Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley showing everyone that, even after years of struggle and toil, there is redemption when you strike the right note. Womack, a former backup guitarist for Sam Cooke and the man who wrote the Rolling Stones hit "It's All Over Now," is just as due for some late-career recognition, and his boldly-titled album, The Bravest Man in the Universe, certainly merits it.

You can hear the roots of soul butting up against and actually mixing quite well with a more digital palette throughout this album. Having one of the artists behind the Gorrilaz (Damien Albarn) as a producer certainly helps. But the passion on this album is all in Womack's world-worn voice. It shines on the hit "Stupid" as well as on the bare-bones "Deep River." It's not busted and broken down, just well-worn. The years of experience and pain and hard work resound in every high note and every growling return.

Passion Pit - Gossamer

Sugary electro-pop isn't usually my thing, but I picked this album up on a whim and barely put it down all summer. If you've turned on your TV in the past few months, you've likely heard the opening track, Take a Walk, shilling for Taco Bell. But the rest of this album has surprising depth. I've said before that Constant Conversations is the slow-jam of the year, and the on-going references to Angelakos' drinking problem keep such a high-flying album grounded in harsh reality.

The problem I have with many dance-pop is that there's nothing behind the over-saturated musical palette. Just repetitive, mindless lyrics. There is real story there, real pain, real heartbreak, real triumph. Things that are hard to fake. Just ask any of the legendary musicians who battled demons during their prime, then got rich and sober and struggled to find anything interesting to say about their new, fancy lives.

While I'm glad Angelakos is clean and sober, his pain certainly created a beautiful piece of art that brought enjoyment to many people. When I caught Passion Pit in concert back in September, I've never seen so many people just blissed-out and enjoying the moment. It's that sharing of relatable material that brings out the best in both artists and audience, and it's wonderful to hear.

Dan Deacon - America

There are many different ways to sound like America. I, personally, still think that Jeff Tweedy's voice sounds like America. But that's beside the point. My first (and really only) exposure to Dan Deacon was his 2007 track Crystal Cat. So when I queued up America, I expected more of the same frenetic, freakout mayhem that I liked on that track. Instead, what I got was a much more nuanced, less soullessly-paced album. There are certainly big sweaty dance numbers on America, like the opener Guilford Avenue Bridge, but even they hide a more intricate and delicate core that runs throughout the album. There is soul, not just passion and pomp, to this electronic maven.

Deacon has stated that this album is based on his love for cross-country travel, and you can feel that throughout. The lines on the highway pass by during True Thrush, overpasses briefly blot out the lazy sun during Prettyboy, and through the heavy industrial drive of USA: II, The Great American Desert you can feel the cornfields and rolling hills of flyover country analog past.

Sera Cahoone - Deer Creek Canyon

With a voice as dusty and lonesome as a backcountry road on a summer evening, Sera Cahoone has delivered an amazingly pitch-perfect and toe-tapping country album for the 21st century.

Deer Creek Canyon doesn't fall back onto glamor country tropes and stereotypes. It's just honest, lo-fi alt country at it's finest. The only shame is that we have to slap the "alt" tag in front of the "country" because it has zero associations to what is popular country. Like Dan Deacon's America does with the entire country - but in an entirely different manner, of course - this album sounds like a trip through the West and Midwest, and it's a glorious trip, at that.

It's a lonesome sounding album that still manages to have moments of levity and balance. There's a resignation, but a willing one, throughout Deer Creek Canyon, a kind of "this is the way things are, and it's not great, but it's what I have to work with" feel. Everyone knows that feel.

Favorite Albums of 2011

I have been putting off my end of the year Top Albums list for weeks now.

Not because I can’t decide which records were my favorite, but I’m having a hell of a time writing up blurbs about each record to justify their selection. Coming up with effusive praise for music that I spend hours listening to never used to be so difficult. In fact, not-entirely-deserved hyperbole used to come pretty easily. Now I’m having a difficult time even justifying why I listened to some of these records at all. Not because they’re bad or regrettable or anything, but because the words just won’t come. It’s been frustrating.

I’ve started to worry that my love for music was beginning to wane. That perhaps I am outgrowing the very act of falling in love with a record. Ever since I hit 30, I’ve been steeling myself for that inevitable disconnect with new music that seems to hit so many people. That time when you eschew new music and start to surround yourself with the greatest hits from your personal “glory days.” I referred to this a few years back as “the time when you stop living for new experiences and start dying with comforting certainties.” Even though it came out of my head, even I thought it was a particularly cold statement to make about other people. But that didn’t make it any less true. I’m not quite there yet, though. I hope…

Maybe it’s not that I don’t still love music the way I always have, and just that don’t feel the need to explain that love to blunt outside judgement. I like what I like and that’s it. It’s kind of a freeing, actually, to not feel the need to explain why I unapologetically rock out to guilty pleasures like Wugazi or become moved to tears by Rural Alberta Advantage’s “Two Lovers.”

So, instead of long-winded write-ups breaking down why the chorus on The Joy Formidable’s Cradle is so amazing, I’m just going to give a few sentences on what made me like each album, saving both you and me time that would be better spent enjoying the music.

Here is my list, in no particular order.

The 4 on the Floor - 4x4

This hard-driving Minneapolis band struck a chord with me when I first caught the video for their song “Working Man Zombie.” It wasn’t until later, while talking to a childhood friend who lives in Minneapolis and knows the band, that I realized that some of the band members grew up mere miles from me in northern Minnesota. Sometimes life is too weird and sometimes that weirdness makes a damn good blues rock record.

Wild Flag - S/T

For reasons that should be relatively obvious, I never really got into the whole riot grrrl scene. (I’m relatively laid back and not prone to rioting, also I’m not a “grrrl”) But this record has an infectious energy that’s hard to deny AND it rocks pretty damn hard.

I was lucky enough to be part of the crew that shot an in-studio session Wild Flag did for OPBmusic and they are even more impressive in person. Go catch them if they come to your town!

Charles Bradley & The Menahan Street Band

No Time For Dreaming : Charles Bradley’s personal story is compelling enough (look it up, you’ll be moved) and the Menahan Street Band is more than solid. 2011 or 1961, this is a great soul record no matter what year it was released.

Oh yeah, I got to shoot an in-studio with these fine fellows and Mr. Charles Bradley, too! (humblebrag)

Rural Alberta Advantage - Departing

Sometimes, a record evokes a point and time from your own personal past. That’s what the newest from the RAA does for me.

Joy Formidable - The Big Roar

For three people, the Joy Formidable sure makes a hell of a racket. Since their debut EP, A Balloon Called Moaning, I’ve been impressed with their unbridled passion to create really emotive music that still sounds so effortless and honest, while simultaneously blowing your eardrums to kingdom come.

Eleanor Friedberger - Last Summer

To be honest, I was surprised to hear such an accessible and straightforward album coming from one half of the notoriously schizophrenic and obtuse (but in a good way) Fiery Furnaces, but there it was. Eleanor Friedberger has made a great pop record while still maintaining her verbose, idiosyncratic delivery.

Blind Pilot - We Are the Tide

If being earnest has a sound, I would imagine it would closely mirror We Are the Tide. The heart behind this record just wafts through your speakers and settles around you like a comforting blanket. Despite the wide-open instrumentation, it feels desperately intimate.

Wilco - The Whole Love

This is just a good record. That’s the most apt description I can think of and yet it’s also an indictment of how far Wilco has fallen creatively since Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I know I might be living in the past, but every album since that 2002 release has slipped further and further away from their creative apex.

This also hass the sound of a band on auto-pilot, and that’s a damn shame.

In the end, I think this record feels disjointed. It’s forgettable because each great track, “I Might” for example, is followed by a lackluster one (in that case, “Sunloathe”). The great tracks still manage to carry it just enough to make it a good record.

Tune-Yards - WhoKill

A vibrant, beautifully chaotic collection of songs. So discordant yet so right. This has been a slow-burner for me. It sounds better each time I listen to it.

Telekinesis - 12 Desperate Straight Lines

This is a breakup album that makes you feel good about the breakup, while simultaneously wallowing in it like a little bitch. Not an easy feat, but a very catchy record.

Favorite Albums of 2010

For the life of me, I can’t find a copy of my post from 2010. Much like the other “lost” years of 2002, 2003, 2005, and 2006, I’m sure it was a real classic, unrivaled in the genre and unappreciated in its time. Alas, we shall never know.

But, thanks to my iTunes library archives, I was able to find the actual albums I chose for that year, if not their order. Here they are:

The Thermals - Personal Life

Titus Andronicus - The Monitor

Spoon - Transference

Superchunk - Majesty Shredding

LCD Soundsystem - This is Happening

Justin Townes Earle - Harlem River Blues

Jonsi - Go

The Black Keys - Brothers

The Tallest Man on Earth - The Wild Hunt

Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings - I Learned the Hard Way

Favorite Albums of 2009

Once again, as another year draws to a close, I’ve been scrambling, trying to work out which albums this year were my favorites. Remember, this list is totally subjective and not meant to imply that these are the ten best albums of the year, period. They are simply my favorite albums of 2009, the ones that I personally enjoyed the most.

Go ahead and strap yourself in, it’s going to be a long ride:

10. Silversun Pickups - Swoon

Everyone’s favorite Smashing Pumpkins cover band is back with a new album. Just kidding. Just kidding. Sure, the Silversun Pickups have some of the same ascetics that the Pumpkins did; the overwhelm- ing guitar, the heavy bass played by a hot female bassist, etc, but they are most definitely a different band. I had their first Pikul EP and the growth since then is pretty stunning. Sure, there are a few throw-away tracks here, notably ”Catch and Release” and ”Sort Of,” but the standouts more than make up for it. ”Panic Switch” and ”There’s No Secrets This Year” are a couple of the better tracks to come out this year. All in all, this record makes me look forward to their next effort, because if they can get rid of the 2-3 filler songs that seem to pop up on each of their records, there isn’t much to keep them from putting out a truly memorable record.

9. Mariachi El Bronx - Mariachi El Bronx

The last thing I expected when Kelly told me that The Bronx had a new disc out and that I had to listen to it was to hear a tumbling bassline and lots of brass horns. For a hardcore punk band, these guys can really belt out some mariachi tunes. Sure, it’s not like they re-make the whole genre, but they get a huge up for actually having the skill as musicians to pull off a pretty damn good mariachi record. The songs pop with excitement, heartache and loss. What starts out as a stunner ends up as a solid record that would be a good addition to anyone’s music collection.

8. Eels - El Hombre Lobo

It seems like every year that the Eels put out a record, I end up exhorting my friends and acquaintances (unsuccessfully) to check them out. This has been happening for almost ten years now and still no one seems to listen. You’d think after awhile I’d give up the ghost and just enjoy them by myself in the privacy of my own home. Each release gets less and less publicity and less and less fanfare, but is no less impressive than the one that preceded it..

This record is different from the last few that the Eels have put out. While Blinking Lights and Other Revelations was a opus that spanned two discs and spawned two distinctly different tours. El Hombre Lobo sounds like a record made in a basement for a select audience. If Mark Oliver Everett’s music didn’t come out of the studio sounding so polished, if he gave in and made a sloppy record that reveled in it’s (and his) flaws, he’d probably be lauded, much like Paul Westerberg was for his Stereo/Mono collection of basement recordings. But because each Eels record has a pop polish to it, we sweep them under the rug and discount them. Meanwhile, one of the better songwriters of our generation has been languishing under our very noses for over 15 years and the only thing that we remember him for is one radio hit back in 1996. It’s sad, really. So, hey, do me a favor and go buy this fucking album.

7. Justin Townes Earle - Midnight at the Movies

I’d include this album for the title track alone. The songwriting is stellar, the arrangements are top- notch and Earle’s voice will haunt you in your dreams. Add in that he includes a cover of The Replacements’ ”Can’t Hardly Wait” that just breaks your heart and this is a record that, much like the Avett Brothers, I could sit and enjoy with just about anyone. ”Mama’s Eyes” makes you want to cry and ”Black Eyed Suzy” makes you want to get up and shake something. In addition to the songwriting, Earle should be commended for choosing the right traditional songs and covers to round out this memorable album.

6. The Thermals - Now We Can See

Sometimes there’s a band that comes along and, through sheer force of will, can do no wrong. It’s not that every song they record is a hit or that every album they put out is an instant classic, but they just keep chugging along and never seem to disappoint. For me, that’s Portland’s own Thermals. They have always put out listenable, energetic records. Fucking A is a classic of the early 2000s and 2007’s The Body, The Blood, The Machine was epic, especially for a punk record. On Now We Can See, The Thermals seem to be settling into early middle age without losing much of the verve that made them so enjoyable in the first place. You see bands hit a certain age all the time and just drop off a cliff artistically. Thankfully, that does not happen here. With sing-along songs like ”Now We Can See” mixed with the blunt force of ”When We Were Alive,” The Thermals have managed to begin to grow old gracefully. Some bands view every new record as more and more pressure, but it seems like Hutch, Kathy and Co. are content to keep on letting us in on their good time.

5. White Rabbits - It’s Frightening

The percussion. The staccato guitars. The rolling bass. The howling vocals. Oh, and the percussion. This album has it all. So many of the songs use a calypso beat and it makes even someone like me want to dance. The songs are more proclamations than diatribes, filled with poignant lines like ”when you’re out taking names/take a number.” It’s Frightening was produced by Spoon’s Britt Daniel, and when you listen to the White Rabbits’ first full length, Fort Nightly, it really shows. There is much more space and experimentalism going on on this record. They take chances and seem to have been challenged to grow musically and that’s exactly what they did. While there are ravers peppering the whole album, some of the standouts are the slower, more contemplative tracks, like ”Midnight and I” and ”Company I Keep.” This record is a big step forward for the White Rabbits and it’s certainly one of the more listenable albums, front to back, of the year.

4. Mos Def - The Ecstatic

I’ve always liked the idea of Mos Def. He’s popped up on my radar as an actor and occasionally as a musician here and there, but I’d honestly never really sat down and listened to one of his albums all the way through.

This year, I figured enough was enough and grabbed The Ecstatic. Now I know what I was missing. The flow, the creativity, the personality, they make his music unmistakable in so many ways. Top to bottom, this record is excellent. Kicking off with ”Supermagic” and culminating with ”Casa Bey,” two extremely strong tracks, there is barely a throwaway on this album. The stellar ”Auditorium” really stands out, as do ”Quiet Dog” and ”Life in Marvelous Times.” Mos Def is at the top of his game here and has delivered a true gem.

3. Blakroc - Blakroc

When I first heard about a collaboration between The Black Keys and a group of hip-hop artists, I was slightly skeptical. But after thinking about it for a second, I realized that their brand of percussive, gut-bucket blues might just be a perfect fit. I couldn’t have imagined how well, though. About halfway through Blakroc, you forget about that this concept sounded unique at first blush and just accept that it was inevitable and relish that it was done by such talented artists. From top to bottom, this record breathes new life into a musical genre that has been languishing in obscurity for too long. Overshadowed by flash and bling and half-assed artists, rap and hip-hop has found refuge in the underground and alternative music circles, where Mos Def, Raekwon and RZA have found new, if limited, fame.

The integration of blues and hip-hop has always been on the periphery, but now it’s been shoved to the forefront and rightfully so. As it stands, it’s a testament to the talent of the artists involved, because they make it all sound so effortless.

2. Japandroids - Post-Nothing

This record languished in my library for a few months after I first got it, popping up every now and then. I never really took the time to sit and listen to what it had to say until one day, it hit me like a punch in the gut. The raw emotion and fuzzed-out simplicity are hard to resist. It’s like listening to pure nostalgia.

Japandroids have managed to put out a record that makes me wish that I was at once young enough to share the enthusiasm for life that oozes from Post-Nothing and makes me glad that I’m old enough to share sentiments like ”we used to dream/now we worry about dying” from ”Young Hearts Spark Fire”.

The Japandroids aren’t re-inventing the wheel with their sound, but the combination of the current social climate and my own flip into my 30s make this the perfect record to bemoan getting old to.

1. Avett Brothers - I and Love and You

The Avett Brothers have been making down-home music to soothe the soul for most of the last decade, garnering a small but dedicated fanbase everywhere they play. Whether it’s frantic rave-ups or plaintive ballads, they’ve blazed a new path for true country music in an era marked by experimentalism and a departure from simple songs. That’s something that, in and of itself, I admire. But add to that the fact that they make beautiful music and I’m hooked. I bought most of their albums within a one month period after picking up their 2007 effort, Emotionalism, and I haven’t looked back. So when they released a their newest this fall, I was falling over myself to listen to it.

I and Love and You is a monumental leap forward for The Avett Brothers. The arrangements are grander without being over-grand, the songs are more focused without sounding too polished and the passion that informs so much of their performance is still comes across on the recording. And while this album is decidedly different from most of their catalog, they still manage to stay true to form. The album is paced perfectly, kicking off with the title track and never looking back for a moment. There are poignant moments peppered throughout and strong tracks all the way through. From the heartbreakingly lovely ”January Wedding” to deliciously quirky ”Slight Figure of Speech,” this album hums all the way through. I could sit down and enjoy I and Love and You with a teenager and with my grandmother, knowing that they’d love something about it. There’s something here for everyone, and that’s more than I can say for almost every other record that came out this year.

Favorite Albums of 2008

For the past eight years, my friends and I have gathered together at the end of the year to compare our picks for the top albums of year. Originally, since we all worked for the campus radio station,it was an on-air countdown. We’d take 3-4 hours to argue, laugh and listen to some great music. But since we all graduated and moved hither and yon, we’ve sent e-mails back and forth comparing our lists. Now, with the platform of Sodblog, we all get to come together digitally to make our case to the blog-reading public.

I post my picks today, my friend Chris posts tomorrow, and Kelly posts on Friday. I encourage you to head over to Sodblog to check out their lists in the coming days. I’m sure you’ll find something worth listening to or arguing about.

Without any further ado, here’s my list for the Top 10 albums of the year, a few runners-up and some of my favorite songs of the year.

10. Girl Talk – Feed the Animals

Imagine every song you’ve ever heard, intentionally or otherwise, mashed into one album and 14 songs. Sounds like a headache, huh? Not quite. While this album isn’t up to the standard that Girl Talk set with the brilliant 2006 release, Night Ripper, it’s still just stunning to listen to. Hearing songs that I grew up listening to sampled, screwed up and set to hip hop beats is, well, it’s a head-trip, that’s for sure. You spend half of your time marveling at every riff or beat or lyric that you recognize, stunned that your music knowledge is actually much larger than you ever imagined. Hearing Twisted Sister and Temple of the Dog provide the backdrop for the same song, with snippets of ten other songs that you know but can’t quite place, it’s impressive in it’s scope.

9. Atmosphere – When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold

I’m not the biggest hip-hop fan, but for some reason, Atmosphere has always held a special spot in my playlist, with their compelling beats and insightful, real-life lyrics. This album, which I think features Slug’s most direct storytelling since Lucy Ford and some genuinely compelling beats. The realism that Slug dabbles in, instead of the extravagance of mainstream hip-hop, is so much more relatable. Atmosphere is the group that introduced me to the idea that I didn’t have to go back to old-school Public Enemy-type hip-hop to find music in the genre that didn’t focus only on booty, benjamins and booze. Atmosphere certainly does that, telling us stories about homeless men, men missing their dead fathers or even prostitutes with vibrancy and heart.

8. The Constantines – Kensington Heights

The Constantines are rock and roll in the same way that Creedence Clearwater Revival was rock and roll, Led Zepplin was rock and roll and Pearl Jam is rock and roll. Grunting, sweating and screaming, they pound through songs that are as elemental as dirt. Kensington Heights isn’t a departure, but a natural progression, as The Constantines have expounded upon their early reliance on Fugazi-ish silence and explosion with more driving beats, melodic departures and howling guitars. This is the sound of a band at the height of it’s power, at it’s apex. The only complaint I have with the record is that they still haven’t fully been able to capture the raw emotion and power of their live performances, but they’re getting close.

7. Army Navy -Army Navy

For a debut album, Army Navy’s self-titled, is a pretty damn good way to start. Combining elements of Apples in Stereo’s joyous, percussive, driving beat and Superchunk’s wide-eyed taking in of the world around them, they have managed to craft a fun, rollicking ride of an album. Kicking off with the excellent “My Thin Sides” and finishing with the 70′s pop cover, “Right Back Where We Started From,” they hit the right note over and over again. This is the kind of album that, while not necessarily full of deep meaning and music virtuosity, gets stuck in your head and will not leave.

6. Mates of State – Re-Arrange Us

Kicking off with the angelic “Get Better,” this new album by husband and wife duo Mates of State is easily their best so far. With their perfect harmonies, lighthearted and uplifting lyrics and simple organ, drum and vocal style, they wrap you in happiness and don’t let go. I can’t imagine a better album to cheer someone up with. They’re not exactly stretching themselves musically from their other releases, but it still feels like a step forward, like all of the elements that have always been their found a way to lock together in a more pleasing way. It’s not all that different, just better.

5. Rural Alberta Advantage – Hometowns

This album came out of nowhere, for me. Admit it, you’ve never heard of Rural Alberta Advantage, either. In fact, I just bought this record two weeks ago and it really threw a wrench into the assembly of my list. Fittingly enough, this album is one that sneaks up on you, as well. The songs aren’t necessarily slow-burners, like a National record, but they nonetheless gain flavor over repeated listens. The track, “Edmonton” is emblematic of this, with the nasal to the point of ridiculousness vocals and simple arrangement wrapped around a simple repeated line “what if I’m only satisfied when I’m at home?” and it’s variations. That simplicity is beautiful, and so is this album.

4. TV On The Radio – Dear Science

Sometimes, an album comes out and is so stunning in it’s brilliance that most people don’t fully know what to do with it. That was Dear Science for me, at first. Full of complex songs with influence drawn from very diverse sources, this album was almost too much to take, the first time I listened to it. Even now, there are songs like “Family Tree” that just leave me speechless. The more I listen to them and watch the progression of their amazing albums, it strikes me that TV on the Radio is our generation’s Steely Dan; they’re a band that everyone likes to appreciate and call genius, but their music is tossed aside, as if it is inconsequential to their success as a band. Basically, they’re the band that every hipster calls their own, even if they don’t own the album. They’re a stamp of cool.

3. Okkervil River – The Stand Ins

Okkervil River started out in the heroin sheik shadow of Bright Eyes. For many, they were just another over-wrought, sprawling indie pop band. With their last few albums, they’ve emerged from that shadow fully-formed, a tight band with better songs than most of us gave them credit for. Will Sheff sings and howls with gusto and purpose still, but also manages to tone it down and create an album that stands out as better than their past triumph, Black Sheep Boy. With standout tracks like “Calling and Not Calling My Ex” and “Lost Coastlines,” this album hums with emotion.

2. Paul Westerberg – 49:00

If you missed this album, it’s too late and too bad. You missed a sloppy gem. 49:00 is one track with many songs pasted on top of, around and over each other. Songs start out of nowhere and end just as abruptly. It’s odd that a concept such as this record, had it been attempted by anyone other than Westerberg, would have fallen flat and seemed childish and trite. But in the hands of old Paul, it’s a masterpiece almost on the same level as his double album Stereo/Mono from 2002. The songs (and pieces of songs) are captivating and exciting, mimicking the unchecked possibility of skipping around the radio dial. Especially of note is the last 5-6 minutes, where Paul shotguns through a medly of classic songs and then rocks out on guitar while his young son takes the mic. 49:00 was pulled from circulation for unknown reasons, but the group of covers was probably it’s undoing, since you can almost bet that Paul didn’t ask for permission when he threw them in there.

1. The Gaslight Anthem – The ’59 Sound

If Springsteen and Alkaline Trio had a love-child, The Gaslight Anthem would be it. Growing through Boss-ish tunes like “Only Cowgirls Get the Blues,” “The High Lonesome,” and “Meet Me By The River’s Edge,” they make their intentions known early on. They are here for nostalgic reasons, to reimagine all those hours we spent as kids, sitting by the radio, waiting for that one song to come on so we could sing along at the top of our lungs. The ’59 Sound is replete with passages from Otis Redding, Bruce and even Counting Crows, that are evident upon second and third listen. But instead of sounding desperate or lazy, they sound familiar and comforting. Listening to this album is like being a child and re-discovering music all over again.

Runners-Up

DeVotchKa – A Mad & Faithful Telling

Brilliant, eccentric and comforting music from these Denver-based troubadors. Not quite up to the high-water mark that they set with How It Ends.

The Avett Brothers – The Second Gleam

Catchy and it has a banjo? I’m in. This one is good, but Emotionalism was better.

Jenny Lewis – Acid Tongue

Jenny has positioned herself as the heiress to Neko Case as the new indie chantouse. Her first solo record was dynamite and Acid Tongue is easily 10b on my list. She’s right on the verge of fully realizing her potential oustide of Rilo Kiley.

Songs of the Year

The Gaslight Anthem – The ’59 Sound

Mates of State – Get Better

Okkervil River – Lost Coastline

TV On The Radio – Golden Age

Ghostland Observatory – Heavy Heart

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – We Call upon the Author

Tim Fite – Big Mistake

The Ravonettes – You Want the Candy

Ted Leo/Pharmacists – I Got Your Number

Paul Westerberg – 5:05

The French Kicks – Abandon

The Walkmen – In The New Year