Well, it's about that time of year when, due to a certain holiday and it's
traditions and "music", I like to put on a metaphorical blindfold and pretend that none of it is happening. As far as I'm concerned, 2010 is already here, so I might as well share with you what I feel have been the best albums of 2009.
Sure, you could just wade through Pitchfork's top
5 gazillion albums of the millenium, and my ten would probably be floating around in there somewhere, but here at DRIFT, I skip over all of the albums that are merely pretty damn good just to share with you the ones I felt were exceptional. SPOILER ALERT! The top 4 blew my mind.
As a qualifier, I selected these albums from the 70 or so I have listened to this year and enjoyed enough to keep on my increasingly cramped iPod.
If you live in Chicago, and we're friends, and you ask nicely, I might just burn a copy of some of these albums for you, if you're in need of said copies. So, one could almost think of this seemingly pointless and psychologically predictable list as "useful", in a sense, if one were so inclined.
#10:
St. Vincent, "Actor"
Annie Clark, late of The Polyphonic Spree (unfortunately) and Sufjan Stevens' touring band (impressively), released this mostly solo album in May. In June, she performed a stunning set for Austin City Limits, the producers of which chose to air her set in the same hour as the notoriously awe-inspiring comfort food music of Andrew Bird and his newly formed "band". This is arguably the best hour of ACL ever aired--I would even put it above the Arcade Fire's barn-burner taping from last year. St. Vincent's music ranges from breathing fresh life into the oft-strained cliche of violin-weeping-through-electronic-fuzz indie rock ballad to the simultaneously beautiful and nerve-wracking anxiety of rhythm-driven songs like "
Marrow".
#9:
Dan Deacon, "Bromst"
It would have been easier just to dismiss Dan Deacon as a sonic nutcase back in 2007, when several years of toil in the Baltimore electronic music scene birthed "Spiderman of the Rings", a cacophony of synthesized instrumentation, beeps, warbles, and an endless stream of seemingly misplaced triplets, with the occasional confusing and unintelligible vocal
track thrown in for good measure. Sure, it would've been easier just to call it a noisy, confusing mess and have done with it. But then I would've missed out on the artful tapestry which Deacon manages to fabricate from that mess--swirling, vibrating compositions that more than hold up to repeated plays and reward the patient listener with a new musical lexicon. I also would've missed "Bromst", the album which somehow manages to do "Spiderman" one better.
#8:
Future of the Left, "Travels With Myself and Another"
"I've been here once or twice before with better hair, and let me tell you/ Only the good die young, except for when they don't, it's not exactly fair." So ends the highly amusing quasi-existentialist track "Stand By Your Manatee" from the new-ish project of former McLusky frontman Andy "Falco" Falkous. Those familiar with the punk-ish stylings of the now defunct Welsh outfit will recognize humorous existentialism as Falco's stock-in-trade. He delivers maniacal faux-egotism with an expertise that would make Rasputin proud. The music on "Travels" is a welcome departure from the moody and under-fleshed compositions of FOTL's debut offering, "Curses". It's okay to sound more like McLusky, Falco--don't forget, everyone loved
McLusky. And by "everyone", of course, I mean "critics", since the American public wasn't really paying attention. And on the billion-to-one chance you end up reading this, you scare the living shit out of me, and I apologize for saying bad things about "Curses". Please don't hurt me.
#7:
Various Artists, "Dark Was The Night"
The latest offering from the folks at Red Hot (of "No Alternative" fame) contains 2 discs worth of brooding, drawn-out art rock, as the title implies. Proceeds from the sale of every Red Hot album go directly to help fund AIDS research, outreach, and awareness campaigns. If that isn't enough to convince you to buy the album, you should know that this is a compilation which contains: collaboratory songs by The Dirty Projectors & David Byrne, Feist & Ben Gibbard (NOT the "Mushaboom" remix), Feist & Grizzly Bear, Cat Power & The Dirty Delta Blues, and Andrew Bird & The Handsome Family. You will also find: The darkest Sufjan Stevens song ever ("You Are The Blood"), a hip-hop
remake of the darkest Sufjan Stevens song ever (Blood, pt. 2), an upbeat Arcade Fire song ("Lenin"), a Nick Drake cover by The Books & Jose Gonzalez ("Cello Song"), and a song by Kevin Drew titled "Love vs. Porn". If you're anything like me, you reflexively purchased this album halfway through that list. Congrats to you, it's the best compilation of the year.
#6:
The Flaming Lips, "Embryonic"
Even if you are familiar with the freak-psychedelia of The Flaming Lips, you may find this album (and it's cover art) somewhat unsettling. The Lips played a fairly predictable set at this year's Pitchfork Festival, cramming their Carnival Cruise Lines-meets-Cirque Du Soliel stage show into the measly 60 minutes afforded to each and every act at the 3-day event. Add in Wayne Coyne's lengthy paeans to brotherly love, repeated chants of "C'mon, motherfuckers!", and the 10 minutes it took him to climb triumphantly out of a giant LCD vagina, and the most packed Pitchfork concert ever was treated to about 7 songs, plus a lot of giant balloons. Everyone seemed happy about the giant balloons. What I noticed most, however, were the two new songs the Lips played from their as-yet unreleased album. "
Convinced Of The Hex" was rattling around in my brain for weeks before "Embryonic" was even leaked online--I could only rub my hands together in devilish anticipation of an album that might preserve the Lips musical maturtity while bringing back the edgy, frayed, electronic stylings from days of yore. I was not disappointed, and if you're as big of a fan of "Transmissions From The Satellite Heart" as you are of "Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots", you won't be disappointed, either.
#5
Animal Collective, "Merriweather Post Pavillion"
If you move your eyes back and forth across that album cover, you will see an effect that is roughly analogous to what I imagine Animal Collective is trying to do to your ears with their music. They're not for everyone--indeed, it took the passage of months and repeated listens of earlier albums "Feels" and "Sung Tongs" for me to even get a hold of AC's sonic thread. The melodies are disjointed, the rhythms spastic at the best of times. Like Dan Deacon, patience rewards the agile listener--"Feels" is easily one of the best albums of the decade. "Merriweather" is a bit of a departure from form for the psuedonymed Baltimore trio (the members call themselves Panda Bear, Geologist, and Avery Tare), merging more easily accessible, pop-ier melodies with their trademark hyper-layered instrumentation. It's an addictive formula, resulting in the undeniably catchy, snap-your-fingers-along track "
My Girls", the didgeridoo-laced "Lion In A Coma", and the dream-like, lush ballad "Also Frightened". It would be remiss for me not to mention that 2 of my close musical familiars (Hi Nate and Justin!) who introduced me to AC in the first place have roundly rejected this album as being either "frustrating" or "too pop-y". Eh, what do
they know?
#4:
Tune-Yards, "Bird-Brains"
Regular readers of this blog will not be surprised to see this album in my list--indeed perhaps you are right now stunned that I have not made it #1, as I have been ranting about it for weeks. What's more inspiring than New England native Merrill Garbus recording these songs on a hand-held digital recorder over the course of two years, playing all of the instruments (drums, ukelele, keyboards) herself, mixing them on an open-source computer program, and then self-releasing, promoting, and booking the album before finally being signed by London indie-impresarios 4AD? Well, how about the fantastic songs? Garbus loops her incredible, yodle-capable voice over itself to comprise the backing tracks for many of the songs, loops in an african rhythym-heavy drum track, and then plays equatorial/tropical melodies on her uke while belting out wise, knowing poetry ("What if my own skin makes my skin crawl?") with the enthusiasm of a child (she pulls all of this off
live, too--quite a spectacle). The ebullient/funky track "
Hatari" is the best example of this, injecting Swahili proverbs into an appropriately African-tinged, dance-'round-the-fire invocation to the indomitable human spirit. As an added bonus, Garbus allows her emotion to carry her to melodic shouting at the song's climax of "Did you listen? Did you listen?" resulting in a level of visceral pleasure which this fan has not experienced since the Arcade Fire's "Funeral" (2004), which, as we all know, is tattooed on my freakin' forearm.
#3:
Grizzy Bear, "Veckatimest"
Ah, Williamsburg. Brooklyn, NYC, U.S.A. Home of the American hispter, the art school snob, overpriced fad cuisine, and, for better or for worse, the creators of 2 of my top 3 albums of the year. The boys of Grizzly Bear had already turned heads with their 2006 release "Yellow House", an album of dark, sparse indie-folk, squeezed through a filter of crumbling studio apartments and an aloof, ecstasy and alcohol-soaked aesthetic. The internet word-of-mouth and possibly manufactured hype produced in the run-up to "Veckatimest" had most of the scenster prognosticators (Pitchfork, i'm looking at you!) surmising that it would never live up to the promise. Oh boy, did they ever eat some crow. Not only did "Veckatimest" manage to best it's predecessor, it did so by chucking out every hipster pretense of what great music is supposed to sound like--that is, by being compositionally meticulous, polished in production, and widely accessible. I defy you to listen to "
Two Weeks" and not be singing the wordless "ah-ah" refrain for the rest of the week--it simply can't be done. Anyone approaching me to say that they did it gets a smack in the kisser. See if I'm kidding.
#2:
Neko Case, "Middle Cyclone"
Who hasn't fallen completely head over heels for Neko Case in the last year? Idiots, that's who. Her musical prowess is frankly too accomplished for me to comment on, and besides, it's very well documented. Her lyrics slay anyone who hears them ("The next time you say 'forever'/ I will punch you in your face/ Just because you don't believe it/ Doesn't mean I didn't mean it." [!]), possibly with the aid of the frightening sword which she appears to be wielding so skillfully in that photo. And if you become enamored of her
music and have the good fortune to see her perform in a venue seating no more than 1000 fans, you will melt, you will swoon, you may have a medical emergency. Seriously, be careful. The storied and accomplished musicians who have hitched their wagons to her star have made a wise choice, indeed, and if you deny that she is anything less than a musical genius and benevolent enchantress of the first order, I will be forced to bash you over the head repeatedly with a copy of this album, like the drooling
Neko zombie I have become.
#1:
Dirty Projectors, "Bitte Orca"
And, to no one's surprise, we find ourselves once again contemplating Williamsburg, where Dave Lonsgtreth and the myriad variations of his band Dirty Projectors have been toiling in semi-obscurity (which is to say, indie-rock superstardom) across 7 years, 6 studio albums, 5 labels, and 17 band members, past and present (the current incarnation involves 5 people other than Longstreth). Call him hard to work with, call him a clinical perfectionist, call him stuck on difficult, experimental compositions--just don't call him boring, or he'll blast you with 4 bars of 5/4, each bar crammed with as many notes as can possibly be fit into the time signature. Still, there is artfulness and beauty to be wrung out of these meticulously arranged rock acrobatics, and on "Bitte Orca", Longstreth et. al. have greased the wheels for popular enjoyment in a way that they never have before, and probably never will again. From the opening strains of the uber-catchy "Cannibal Resource", through the R&B-tinged "
Stillness Is The Move", to the muzak-synth closing chords of "Flourescent Half-Dome", and during the jaw-dropping vocal accomplishments of the female duo pictured on the album cover who round out everything in between, you will be entranced, tickled, and finally, amazed. That is, if you ever manage to get over the initial cognitive impulse of "what the hell am I listening to?" which, unfortunately, may be your first response to a majority of the albums on this list.
Overused terms in this essay: "indie" (x4), "compostion" (x4), "accessible" (x3), "[genre] stylings of" (x2), "experimental" (x1).
Predictable concepts presented: "breathing fresh life into", "sonic tapestry", "hip-hop remake", "Williamsburg hipster".
UPDATE: I am proud to say that only 4 of my top ten fell in line with
Pitchfork's. Really? Bat For Lashes? Really? Whatevs, P4K.
