War on Radio

*cue the soundtrack*

As 2008 is hours away from being over, this list is but a mere ten albums from its completion. These are the elite of my listening habits this year, the ten albums that–more than any of the others–wormed their way into my consciousness. If you know me, there aren’t any surprises here, and its true that a lot (probably all) of these albums have ended up on other “best of” lists, but I stand by my choices, even if the ranking is a little fuzzy in places.

But before we get down to it, one more look at the last 40 albums on the list:

THE LIST SO FAR:
50. Fall Out Boy - Folie a Deux
49. Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul
48. Owl City - Maybe I’m Dreaming
47. Of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping
46. Counting Crows - Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings
45. Sigur Rós - Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
44. The Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely
43. Juliana Hatfield - How to Walk Away
42. Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III
41. The Kills - Midnight Boom
40. Man Man - Rabbit Habits
39. Shugo Tokumaru - Exit
38. Lambchop - OH (Ohio)
37. Bonnie “Prince” Billy - Lie Down in the Light
36. Drive By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation’s Dark
35. Panic at the Disco - Pretty. Odd.
34. TV on the Radio - Dear Science
33. The Mighty Underdogs - Droppin’ Science Fiction
32. The Gutter Twins - Saturnalia
31. Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances
30. REM - Accelerate
29. School of Seven Bells - Alpinisms
28. Spiritualized - Songs in A&E
27. Benoit Pioulard - Temper
26. The Last Shadow Puppets - The Age of Understatement
25. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
24. The Tallest Man on Earth - Shallow Grave
23. Grouper - Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill
22. Augie March - Watch Me Disappear
21. Deerhunter - Microcastle
20. Rodney Crowell - Sex & Gasoline
19. Aimee Mann - @#%&*! Smilers
18. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks - Real Emotional Trash
17. Hot Chip - Made in the Dark
16. Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight
15. Juana Molina - Un Dia
14. Larkin Grimm - Parplar
13. Nada Surf - Lucky
12. Okkervil River - The Stand Ins
11. The Hold Steady - Stay Positive

And with no further ado, my top ten records of the year.

10. Erykah Badu - New Amerykah, Part 1: 4th World War
Erykah Badu’s fourth album opens with an announcer promising “More action! More excitement! More everything!” and the hour that follows delivers fully on that promise. It’s an adventurous, playful record that draws from all corners of urban music, from ’60s Motown to modern hip-hop, blending them into something both unique and timeless. The songs wander hither and thither, sometimes brightly melodic, other times muted and hypnotic, full of more ideas and creative touches than I could possibly comment on. The title suggests a political manifesto, but rather this album draws from a sense of community–political, racial, artistic, familial, however it may manifest–and the complexity of the music is mirrored in the clearly heartfelt stories and observations laid over it that draw from cautionary tales about crime and drugs to tributes and celebrations of the power of music and artists. The sum total is something exciting and passionate that cannot be easily pigeonholed but yields more with each listen and sounds soulful, powerful and important.

9. Sun Kil Moon - April
Coming five years after the warm, inviting Ghosts of the Great Highway, this epic, 74-minute album blends those warm sounds with the cooler, more deliberate feel of the early Red House Painters records, standing as not only a summation, but one of the best records of Mark Kozelek’s 16 year career. The album takes its time–five of the eleven songs run between 7 and 11 minutes–creating atmosphere via interwoven electric and acoustic guitars playing variations on simple riffs, sometimes close to the vest (the brief, relatively spare fingerpicking of “Harper Road”), other times letting loose in massive drones (the towering, Neil Young-inspired centerpiece “Tonight the Sky”). Kozelek’s honeyed vocal wanders down alleyways of memory, pulling up observations that are sentimental without crossing into saccharine. They’re full of rich, sometimes arresting images (”When the skies come apart she leans over so helpless and cowering / Until the storms come to cease and somehow she’s the only one standing”), but like the music, often focus more on painting an atmospheric picture, rather than delivering a punch-in-the-gut blow. This is an album meant for daydreaming–lie down with it and let it infuse your thoughts and you’ll wind up in some melancholy yet stirringly beautiful places.

8. The Mountain Goats - Heretic Pride
The eleventh Mountain Goats album (not counting numerous EPs and rarities collections) is the first in some time not to have an explicit narrative or thematic concept, instead creating a series of vignettes that expand both the band’s sonic palate and John Darnielle’s already impressive emotional range. The band’s last 3 records have slowly been incorporating new elements into the low-fi sound but this album plays with and pushes them further than ever before. “San Bernadino” is built on a rich, tender string arrangement; “Lovecraft in Brooklyn” is easily the hardest song in the group’s vast catalogue, rocketing along on charging drums and electric guitar pulses; “Marduk T-Shirt Men’s Room Incident” uses lovely background vocals to great effect, etc. Darnielle’s lyrics are clever and wordy as ever and he alternates between a gentle lilt and a ferocious nasal howl as he frames stories about childbirth (”San Bernadino”), death (”Sept 15, 1983″), and everything in-between. The album is the latest entry in a startling consistent career that proves John, Peter and company still have new places to go in their music.

7. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
If you want to get really technical, this album was self-released in 2007, but because it was picked up by Jagjaguwar in 2008, most critics count it as an ‘08 release and thus I’m doing the same. This accomplished debut was recorded alone in an isolated cabin and that chilly loneliness comes through in the beautiful sounds herein. Justin Vernon layers his creamy voice over flowing threads created by acoustic guitars, banjos and very subtle percussion. Loose fibers of electric guitars and electronic effects spiral in and out here and there, adding gentle flavor when they appear, and the whole thing is drenched in a light echo that creates wide open spaces, especially in the sparer moments like the haunting “The Wolves Act I & II,” which starts out barely there and crashes into a noisy climax. The words mimic the etherial nature of the music, using gorgeous, often abstract details (”Sky’s the womb and she’s the moon”) mixed with powerfully direct statements (”With all your lies, you’re still very loveable”) to paint soft, brokenhearted pictures. It’s a powerful, quietly intense collection of songs that not only stands very well as its own entity, but also suggests vast potential for follow-up records.

6. Shearwater - Rook
On the follow up to the gorgeous, masterful Palo Santo, Shearwater have tightened their sound, delivering a record that’s leaner and more propulsive while maintaining the haunting beauty that informs their best work. There is no easy way to describe the music–pianos, dulcimers, bells, horns/winds, electric and acoustic guitars, drums and strings peck and circle each other in something that sounds like a marriage of traditional, even mythical/mystical folk music and modern indie rock. At the center of the ghostly mist is Jonathan Meiburg’s voice, one of the most stunning male vocals in said indie rock–he floats effortlessly between deep croons and falsetto peaks, never losing his rich, powerful timbre. The words are perfectly suited to the music–enigmatic, natural, beautiful and dangerous, littered with lines like “I am starlight, I am moonlight over burning fields and bodies” or “Can this sullen child, bound as the ox I ride / Climb to the heart of the white wind, singing high / And blow through my frozen eyes?” It’s spectacular, a record that equals the heights of its predecessor and bodes extremely well for the future of the group, even if it’s an even harder act to follow than the last time.

5. Portishead - Third
It’s been 11 years since Beth Gibbons, Adrian Utley and Geoff Barrow have put out an album–an absolute eon in pop music terms–which makes the simply titled Third all the more striking. It picks up right where the band left off–building off the mysterious atmosphere of Dummy and Portishead and taking it to stranger and more ferocious places. The songs are dark, foreign and exotic, throwing in unexpectedly harsh elements into the jazzy, velvety sound the band laid out on their ’90s albums. Take “Machine Gun,” where Gibbons’ soulful melody is almost drowned in thundering percussion, or the sudden electronic boiling that jaggedly interrupts the lilting, seductive croon of “Hunter.” And just when you think you’ve got a line on the music, they take a sudden left turn with the ukulele piece “Deep Water.” The words only reenforce the tortured torch singer image that Gibbons’ voice creates–”Wild white horses, they will take me away / And the tenderness I feel will send the dark underneath,” etc, fitting in perfectly with the eerie, unsettling nature of the music. That a band could sound this vital and important long after most fans lost hope they’d ever come back speaks to the amazing musicianship in this trio–a band that helped define a genre (trip-hop, if weren’t paying attention) and continue to sound like no one else.

4. The Dodos - Visiter
This album originally started further down the list (somewhere in the 20s), but every time I listened to it, I felt compelled to move it up a few spaces. Meric Long and Logan Kroeber’s second album crams in even more wild ideas than Beware of the Maniacs, but rather than flying between this and that, it integrates all that craziness into something that’s undeniably messy but also strangely cohesive. The heart of this record is the thundering, crashing, stomping rhythms that drive the songs–both the shorter jaunts and longer epics–forward like a rocket engine. Over these is a layer of truly frantic acoustic guitar that shifts between manic strumming, sped up blues riffs and spiderwebbed picking, more often than not, in the same song. Mixed into this organized chaos is a stew of electric bass, piano stabs, horn blares, grunts and howls, tinkling bells and heaven knows what else. The sound has a gritty space–it feels like it was recorded in an empty warehouse–that makes the songs sound even messier, but for all of that, it’s anchored by undeniably pop melodies that keep things reined in just enough. The lyrics reveal that these are actually cleverly disguised love songs–consider the inner monologue of “Park Song,” where Long mutters to himself “Saw the girl I know from my job / I think that she must think that I’m retarded / I act so dumb when I get started.” The everydayness of this kind of writing makes the album all the more charming, and it is a charming record–one that hooks you in with its unabashedly wild flavor and keeps you engaged throughout.

3. M83 - Saturdays=Youth
There’s a lot to be told from the title of this record. It’s bright, shiny and wide-eyed, full of all the capriciousness of youth. It’s also nostalgic, drawing very skillfully from the past (specifically, the late ’80s) while still sounding like something fresh. The songs are drenched very heavily in shoegazer/JaMC style washes, something immediately apparent from the droning, hypnotic opener “You Appearing,” which builds from a lonely piano into Cocteau Twins-style ambience, covered in hazy electronic sounds. This spacy opening yields immediately into “Kim & Jessie,” one of the album’s best tracks and an indicator of the pop sensibility on the rest of the record, where spare, gentle verses segue into towering choruses, complete with wailing distortions that wouldn’t be out of place on Loveless. Tracks like the long, winding “Couleurs” show Anthony Gonzalez’s French-electronica roots, but this record is warmer and more immediate than anything he’s done before. The lyrics, while somewhat secondary to the music, are nonetheless sly and smart, full of both teenagerisms (”I look into your eyes / Diving into the ocean”) and cleverly put observations about youth, eg: “She worships Satan like a father / But she dreams of a sister like Molly Ringwald” (from the stellar “Graveyard Girl”). All in all, it’s a hooky, beautiful, bright album that builds on traditions yet blazes new territory for the man who made it.

2. Why? - Alopecia
After a series of intriguing near-misses like Oaklandazulasylum and Elephant Eyelash, Why? finally deliver an album that capitalizes on their huge potential. This is apparent immediately as “The Vowels Pt. 2″ storms in with heavy bass beats and Yoni Wolf declares “I’m not a ladies man, I’m a land mine filming my own fake death.” The first two tracks emphasize the hip-hop influence–there’s melody in Wolf’s voice, but he’s still doing a strange, slow, moody but involving version of rapping amidst layered, dark instrumentation. It’s not until the staggering “These Few Presidents” hits that the album fully turns into a pop record–an absolutely gorgeous melody plays against a running bass, culminating in a stormy, heavy chorus. From there the record takes off into jittery piano-rock (”Song of the Sad Assassin”), cheerful and shimmering pop (”Fatalist Palmistry”) and all sorts of other neat places. But as pop as the record gets, it never quite shakes the beat-influenced poetry that characterizes Wolf’s lyrics. He’s at times uncomfortably direct (”Jerking off in an art museum john til my dick hurts / The kind of shit I won’t admit to my head shrinker”) while other times playfully obscure (”Never in the night when the knot grows tighter than the thinkers can untie / And the last half dammed rivers have gone dry”), but always with an absolute mastery of timing and rhythm and a penchant for urban(e) images and ideas. The record dodges classification but it’s addictive as all hell and vies almost equally for the top spot with…

1. MGMT - Oracular Spectacular
There’s a lot to be said for artistic experimentation–bands that push envelopes, do unexpected things and otherwise challenge the listener to pay attention and figure them out. I love that kind of music. But not all records need to be difficult or even terribly complex to be completely brilliant. There’s not a lot to discover about MGMT’s songs–they’re painted in broad, bold colors, comprised of in-your-face hooks in bright, shiny instrumentation. The lyrics are smart enough, often thoughtful (see: “Pieces of What”) and occasionally silly (see: “Electric Feel”), but they don’t make a thing about making any philosophical statement–the key line on the album comes in “The Youth,” which opens with the bold statement “This is a call of arms to live and love and sleep together.” This kind of casual, unabashed earnestness in the lyrics is definitely appealing, but that’s not what makes the record really great. What pushes it over the top and puts it in the number one slot for this year is the fact that every single song on here is catchy as fuck. I’m impressed every time I listen to it–it never once lets up, delivering ten absolutely perfect pop gems in 40 minutes. Even the somewhat more obscure moments like “4th Dimensional Transition” or “Future Reflections” end up wrapping themselves around your head and drilling into your brain if you let them. “The Handshake” is stomping and soaring, “Time to Pretend” is absolutely goddamned anthemic, “Electric Feel” is wiggly and funky. And at the center of this is “Kids,” which has a mind-bendingly stunning riff and melody that basically defines the earworm, so much so that it took me months to hear the second half of this album cos I kept hitting repeat whenever this track came up. Even if it’s not the deepest record on this countdown or the even best in a purely artistic sense, the music is so ridiculously joyful, the excitement communicates so wonderfully and I’ve listened to this so much I can’t not call it my favorite record of the year.

Alright, so that’s my list, make of it what you will. A lot of great music was put out this year and I’m still discovering new stuff–if I were to do a “Best of 2008″ list a year from now, I’m sure it’d probably be pretty different (just like my list about 2007 would be different if I made it now). But as the year closes out, this is how things stand. Time to look forward to a whole slew of releases set for 2009, ones that are already shaping it up to be an even more amazing year than 2008 was.

So happy New Year and see you folks in January!

Hullo again. We’re closing in on the end of both the year and the list, and starting to get into the territory that was really difficult to sort out. The records in the top 20 have shifted places a lot in the making of this thing, but this is what I came up with.

THE LIST SO FAR:
50. Fall Out Boy - Folie a Deux
49. Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul
48. Owl City - Maybe I’m Dreaming
47. Of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping
46. Counting Crows - Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings
45. Sigur Rós - Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
44. The Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely
43. Juliana Hatfield - How to Walk Away
42. Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III
41. The Kills - Midnight Boom
40. Man Man - Rabbit Habits
39. Shugo Tokumaru - Exit
38. Lambchop - OH (Ohio)
37. Bonnie “Prince” Billy - Lie Down in the Light
36. Drive By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation’s Dark
35. Panic at the Disco - Pretty. Odd.
34. TV on the Radio - Dear Science
33. The Mighty Underdogs - Droppin’ Science Fiction
32. The Gutter Twins - Saturnalia
31. Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances
30. REM - Accelerate
29. School of Seven Bells - Alpinisms
28. Spiritualized - Songs in A&E
27. Benoit Pioulard - Temper
26. The Last Shadow Puppets - The Age of Understatement
25. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
24. The Tallest Man on Earth - Shallow Grave
23. Grouper - Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill
22. Augie March - Watch Me Disappear
21. Deerhunter - Microcastle

And the next chapter:

20. Rodney Crowell - Sex & Gasoline
This album was a difficult one to consider. On the one hand, it’s not Crowell’s best work, and there’s nothing here we haven’t heard before–the whole album apes Bob Dylan’s country side, almost to a fault. On the other hand though, it does so very well–the guitars shine and the rhythms lope along with ragged confidence. What sold me on it, though is the odd philosophy in the lyrics. The key line on the record comes in “The Rise & Fall of Intelligent Design,” where Crowell states flatly “If I could have one wish, maybe for an hour / I’d want to be a woman and feel that phantom power.” Throughout the album, he examines the complex idea of femininity from an outside perspective, sometimes limited by that, other times in a very perceptive manner. Supported by the accomplished–if straightforward–music, the words give the record an interesting edge that makes it a strong listen.

19. Aimee Mann - @#%&*! Smilers
Aimee Mann’s tightest set of songs since 2000’s masterful Bachelor No. 2, this album is intelligent, sly, somewhat sarcastic, mature pop music. The arrangements are comfortable and inviting, layered with smooth guitars, pianos, organs and strings. At the center, though, is Mann’s stellar voice–rich and soulful as always–winding through easygoing melodies that mask the world-weary lyrics. Sometimes she’s achingly straightforward (see: “31 Today”), where other songs are draped in metaphor (see: “Little Tornado”), but the record is loaded with the smart observations (”They’ll sell you all the speed you want if you can take the blackmail,” eg) that characterize her work. It’s the measured work of an artist who’s mastered her craft and has nothing to prove, but rather than falling into a rut, the album has a laid-back, hook-laden shine.

18. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks - Real Emotional Trash
Both in and after Pavement, Steve Malkmus has ridden the fine line between intriguing and frustrating. As a writer, his lyrics are often obscure and impenetrable, yet there’s an intelligence and emotion to them when they come through clear. Musically, his songs (particularly in his career with The Jicks) often wander along, dodging around a hook or basic melody, but they explore some interesting space in doing so. This album presents the best blend of those characteristic traits since the Pavement era. It’s full of weird little character details like “I like the way you dot your J’s with giant circles of naivete,” sung in his usual disaffected tone. The music requires patience, drifting into long, jammy passages, but there’s an engaging character to it that keeps it from getting dull, even on the epic title track. The album is a fascinating and entertaining picture of a truly idiosyncratic songwriter, backed up by an all-star indie rock band.

17. Hot Chip - Made in the Dark
2006’s The Warning brought Hot Chip’s sound together as a blend of Beta Band-ish experimental pop and LCD Soundsystem-style dance rock. But if that album blazed that territory for the group, this album settles into it quite nicely, honing and perfecting the sound. Throughout the album, the two sounds are played against each other–”Shake Like a Fist” flirts with hard electronica, but it rolls right over into “Ready for the Floor” that starts with a throbbing pulse but melts into wonderful a wonderful sugary pop ballad. There are a lot of ideas flying around on the album, from slower romantic ballads like “In the Privacy of Our Love” to the weird musical/lyrical stream of consciousness in “One Pure Throught,” but it retains a cohesiveness and energy, even through the slower moments. And that’s the key to the record’s success–it’s fun as hell.

16. Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight
The second record by this Scottish group, this album takes Glaswegian indie pop and builds it up to near anthemic grandness, coming off like a shaggier, rowdier, more endearing take on Snow Patrol. Scott Hutchinson unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve–he wails out lines like “Well, I crippled your heart a hundred times and I still can’t work out why” (from the bombastic and spectacular opener “The Modern Leper”) like he’s feeling each word fresh as he sings it. Even on less propulsive moments, like “My Backwards Walk,” guitars play off each other and organs float up through the open space for a big, bright sound that sweeps you up. The album is a stunning development of the ideas layed out on the band’s debut (Sing the Greys) and posits them to be the next big thing in the rich pop/rock tradition of their homeland.

15. Juana Molina - Un Día
Juana Molina’s music has always existed in its own world, incorporating elements of the familiar but turning them on their head. This, her fifth album, continues that spirit but it also gives her previously more hesitant sound a dose of caffeine. The record seamlessly blends together (a wide variety of) acoustic instrumentation with electronic effects, coming off like a warmer, more naturalistic take on Bjork. The eight moderately lengthy pieces whirl along driving, shifting rhythms as layered voices and other etherial sounds float over twisting guitar lines. My Spanish isn’t good enough to know what any of the songs are about, but there’s an almost mystical flavor to her whispered intonations, especially amidst the odd surrounding sounds. The whole thing comes together in an inimitably fascinating way and makes for the latest in a string of albums that mark this Argentinean as one of the most unique and engaging talents around.

14. Larkin Grimm - Parplar
I have no real idea where this came from–I found it through Michael Gira’s involvement (he co-produces and it’s on his Young God label), but it startled me how much I got wrapped up in it. The music is weirdly ghostly, dark, even heavy in a subtle way–they drip with menace and tension, an undercurrent present even in the record’s lighter moments. Vocal harmonies are supported by acoustic picking, wailing horns and violins, xylophones, whistles, occasional stomping pianos and rhythm sections, etc. Grimm tosses off lines like “Callin’ me a cannibal, come on, let me cook up a stew” and “ride it while I boil your blood” in singsong melodies without blinking and there’s a surprising variety of sound in the largely short pieces (only two of the fifteen songs top 4 minutes, several are under 2). The album is hypnotic, enigmatic, occasionally scary and constantly enjoyable–one of the best new discoveries I made this year.

13. Nada Surf - Lucky
The third straight fantastic album by the NY power-pop band, Lucky is slightly less of a rainy-day album than its immediate predecessors, but it keeps the mellow feel and emotionally rich presence the band does so well. If you know Nada Surf, you know the feel of this album–the acoustic skeletons and electric muscles supporting gentle, subtly complex melodies, but there’s a lightness in a lot of these songs, whether it’s the tinkling and stomp in “Here Goes Something” or the summery bounce of “I Like What You Say.” Matthew Caws sounds wise and graceful, singing lines like “I hate to see you go, but the sunlight follows you right down the road” (on “The Film Did Not Go Round”), making the best of heartache (see: the cautionary tale “See These Bones”) and the complexities of romance. And the music is romantic, intimate and mature–may they keep making records this good for a long time yet.

12. Okkervil River - The Stand Ins
The companion piece/second half of the epic, masterful The Stage Names (my favorite record of last year) doesn’t quite live up to the high standard of that album, but it’s a grower, standing on its own merits, revealing more of its charm with each listen. The music builds on the template of charging indie rock of the band’s last couple records, but throws in a few curveballs–eg the country twang of “Singer/Songwriter” or the orchestral interludes of the three-part title track. Will Sheff’s lyrics remain fiercely well-written; it mirrors The Stage Names, looking up at the celebrity that characterized that album from the everyday level, both in searing indictments (”Pop Lie”) and tender moments (”Calling and Not Calling My Ex”). If the record seems less sure of itself, it’s because the characters within it do, not because the band does–as the record unfolds itself, it stands as a strong, powerful work by a great group.

11. The Hold Steady - Stay Positive
Boys & Girls in America was arguably The Hold Steady at their easiest–it was richly literate, but also loose, ragged and more thematic than narrative. On the other hand, Stay Positive is maybe the band’s most difficult release–the youthful energy of the last record crashing and crumbling against some harsh realities. Musically, the songs are what one expects from the band–balls-out, heartland riffage–but with some twists and turns, like the gothic flourish of the harpsichord on “One for the Cutters,” the keyboard flavoring in “Navy Sheets” or the quiet tension of “Both Crosses.” As ever, though, the real focus is Craig Finn’s novel-like lyrics which deliberately call back to characters on the last record and incorporate themes of religion, guilt and disintegration into an album-length narrative about murder and the loss of innocence. Although far less immediate than B&GiA, this darker twin is equally sophisticated and more on par with the complex masterwork Separation Sunday in terms of intricate storytelling.

Well then. Tomorrow we round out the top ten and close the list along with the year itself. Um. Stay tuned.

Here we go again! This chapter of the countdown gets into some of 2008’s spaciest, dreamiest territory in the continuing quest to get to my number 1 album and not have to write this list anymore (I am having fun with it, but damn this is a lot to write).

The List So Far:
50. Fall Out Boy - Folie a Deux
49. Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul
48. Owl City - Maybe I’m Dreaming
47. Of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping
46. Counting Crows - Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings
45. Sigur Rós - Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
44. The Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely
43. Juliana Hatfield - How to Walk Away
42. Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III
41. The Kills - Midnight Boom
40. Man Man - Rabbit Habits
39. Shugo Tokumaru - Exit
38. Lambchop - OH (Ohio)
37. Bonnie “Prince” Billy - Lie Down in the Light
36. Drive By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation’s Dark
35. Panic at the Disco - Pretty. Odd.
34. TV on the Radio - Dear Science
33. The Mighty Underdogs - Droppin’ Science Fiction
32. The Gutter Twins - Saturnalia
31. Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances

And we continue…

30. R.E.M. - Accelerate
After putting out arguably the best record of their career (no small feat) in 1992’s Automatic for the People, R.E.M. seemed to have lost a bit of their footing. While there were some incredibly sublime moments (see “E-Bow the Letter” from New Adventures in Hi-Fi), this is the first R.E.M. album in 16 years that sounds truly focused. Even the quieter songs are built around solid riffs with tight textural elements (see: the organ in “Houston”) and don’t wander off on tangents. Michael Stipe is in fine form as both a vocalist and lyricist–more straightforward in the latter than he has been in some time. Accelerate isn’t the band’s best record, true, but it does save them from the brink of irrelevance–the band has energy once again, even approaching their fourth decade, which isn’t something many acts can claim.

29. School of Seven Bells - Alpinisms
I had high expectations for a group made up of ex-Secret Machines guitarist/vocalist Ben Curtis and former On!Air!Library! twins Alley and Claudia Deheza. I was not disappointed. Alpinisms is one of the best dream pop/shoegaze-ish records I’ve heard in some time. The sisters’ goregously layered vocals float through playful, open melodies, surrounded by clouds of guitars, keys and a palate of sounds that hints at influences from Can to Stereolab. The lyrics are pretty enough, dipping into meditative/philosophical territory (”Allow yourself to be relieved” or “Those who say dreams are just dreams say words end when you can’t hear them”), but take a backseat to the pure, joyful sound of the record. It’s music to drift away to and a great use of the considerable talent involved.

28. Spiritualized - Songs in A & E
Don’t let the title fool you–Spiritualized records are never that plain or simple. In fact, they’re usually massive, drugged out, hazy, doom-laden affairs, even the relatively raw Amazing Grace, and this album isn’t an exception to that. It is, however, a slight modulation–rather than building to huge, spacy peaks, the album is more restless, drifting uncomfortably between different ideas in a collage-like fashion. Jason Pierce’s fondness for incorporating elements of gospel music, a gloomy sensibility (the album is haunted by the specter of death) and his warbling vocal are the unifying elements amidst washes of strings, fuzzed out guitars, electronic noises and lilting rhythms. The thing is, the snaky discomfort of the record is what makes it interesting–it hasn’t been since Ladies & Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space that a Spiritualized album has been this guttural; it’s meant to be a slightly bracing listen and entering the weird world it creates elicits a powerful and intriguing reaction.

27. Benoît Pioulard - Temper
If epic, driving majestry like that of Explosions in the Sky or GY!BE is post-rock, one might call the music of Benoît Pioulard (aka Thomas Meluch) post-folk. It’s built on a foundation that mixes acoustic guitar lines and gentle melodies into a swirling cloud of electronic and ambient sounds resulting in something that approximates a warped fragment of Fairport Convention lost in outer space. Temper expands on the formula laid out on 2006’s Précis, giving the tracks a little more of an anchor, but this is still an album made for getting lost in–tuneful numbers are interspersed with droning instrumentals full of beautifully alien sounds. The result is something wintry and crystalline that both demands and supports dreamlike exploration.

26. The Last Shadow Puppets - The Age of Understatement
Nothing about the Arctic Monkeys nor The Rascals–the main gigs of Alex Turner and Miles Kane, respectively–would suggest the kind of epic scope the duo achieves here. It uses the baroque art-rock of Scott Walker, Robert Wyatt, etc as a foundation–so much so that the album wouldn’t sound out of place circa 1970–but injects that very distinct sound with some heady adrenaline. The melodies lilt back and forth over swaying horn/string arrangements (in part the work of Owen Pallett), but the rhythms charge forward in the manner of dramatic marches, giving the songs a driving sense of speed and power. The combination creates a sound that’s ornate, sophisticated and intelligent without getting lost in its own artiness. The band takes classic sounds (much in the way their main bands do), but actually expands and updates them, rather than merely mimicking, in the process creating something distinct. Here’s hoping they do another record together.

25. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
Speaking of drawing from and updating the past, maybe no record did that quite as distinctly this year as this one. The band seems to mix and match songs drawn straight out of various late ’60s and ’70s styles (british folk, progressive rock, classic singer/songwriter, etc) and marinates them in My Morning Jacket-style reverb. The lyrics are flooded with natural imagery (streams, forests, morning light, what have you) which contributes to the folksy, occasionally somewhat mystical (see: “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song”) and timeless feel the record creates. The sound is remarkably comfortable and accomplished for a debut record–its pacing is measured and careful and the atmosphere sounds finely honed. It’ll be interesting to see how this Seattle outfit tops this one next time out–it’s hard to tell how much further they could go from here.

24. The Tallest Man on Earth - Shallow Grave
Making a great case for the “less is more” aesthetic, Swede Kristian Matsson takes a trip to rural Appalachia for this brief record, comprised of almost nothing but a solo acoustic guitar/banjo (one or two songs layer both) and a nasal, shitmouthed folk vocal. The starkness of the arrangements make the accomplished fingerpicking and gorgeous, soaring melodies all there is to hear, drawing attention to the vivid details of each. The lyrics brim with a lonely aching, but express it in lovely images (”When I’m covered by the thunder I’ll get rid of all the breath deep in our lungs,” eg), and Matsson warbles each sentiment with heartfelt conviction, his voice cracking and rasping in all the right places. I don’t remember how I came across this record, but it’s been in heavy rotation for the past few months.

23. Grouper - Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill
I got this album because the title made me laugh when I first heard it. I don’t know what I was expecting from the record itself, but it wasn’t this. Listening to this record is like being haunted by something–at times, it’s barely a presence on the corner of your consciousness, while other times it’s boldly apparent, beautiful and eerie. Liz Harris’s voice layers and intertwines with itself, sounding both spooky and inviting, even if the lyrics are often lost in the haze. Except for the piano on “Disengaged,” I can’t identify any instruments other than guitars, but that’s not immediately obvious–both electric and acoustic are often washed and processed into indistinct sounds as otherworldly as the vocals they surround. While there isn’t anything close to a hook here, the atmosphere is rich enough to demand attention and in the process of trying to sort out what you’re hearing, the record reveals an incredible beauty.

22. Augie March - Watch Me Disappear
One of the most interesting aspects of Augie March’s four albums is the time it takes for each to reveal its real character. As with 2006’s Moo, You Bloody Choir, I was mildly disappointed by this one at first–while it had a certain charm, nothing hit me in the gut the way “There is No Such Place” or “This Train Is Taking No Passengers” did. Yet with each listen, the charm became more vivid–little touches in each song became more apparent, like the way the vocal melody plays against the guitar and bass lines in “City of Rescue” or the subtle minor chord changes in “The Glenorchy Bunyip.” As it turns out, the record is really quite accomplished and tightly wound together without being showy. Glenn Richards’ poetry–and he is one of the most overtly poetic lyricists working today–doesn’t disappoint either; he creates stories steeped in mythology and allusion, always hinting at slightly more than he actually says. The album still hasn’t fully opened up to me, but it’s already rocketed up in my estimation and maintains my faith in these lovely chaps as one of my favourite groups.

21. Deerhunter - Microcastle
This is a weird album. It’s not really a standard indie-rock/pop record–the songs are just a little too out of focus, have a little too much noise, sound just a little too off. But it’s not purely an experimental record either. Instead, it’s as though Bradford Cox and company have taken pop songs and twisted them just a little beyond recognition. Take “Activa,” which sounds like a folk ballad cut apart and reassembled as something a little more frightening, or the title track, which comes off like a ’50s Top 40 hit slowed way down and stretched out like taffy until a suddenly bombastic conclusion in its final third. The result of this approach is a record that’s appealingly strange and a lot more accessible than it seems like it should be, even if it’s not exactly catchy.

Phew. Tomorrow, we enter the top 20. Mwahaha.

Hullo again, the epicness continues, in the hopes to get to #1 before New Year’s. I don’t really need to do a recap of yesterday’s list cos it’s right down there (*points at post below*), but I’m going to anyway because I’m a Virgo. (*snort*)

THE LIST, THUS FAR
50. Fall Out Boy - Folie a Deux
49. Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul
48. Owl City - Maybe I’m Dreaming
47. Of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping
46. Counting Crows - Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings
45. Sigur Rós - Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
44. The Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely
43. Juliana Hatfield - How to Walk Away
42. Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III
41. The Kills - Midnight Boom

So then, on to the next chapter. Ready? Okay then.

40. Man Man - Rabbit Habits
The third album by the Philadelphia group comes twirling out of the mist like a rabid carnival performer, drawing from elements of European folk music, Swordfishtrombones-era Tom Waits and the broad umbrella of experimental rock. The result is something akin to the soundtrack to a Tim Burton film about gypsies–it’s noisy and playful, creating a dark, cartoony atmosphere where barked lines like “you strut like a stallion but you fuck like a mule” seem fitting and natural. The album is layered, adventurous and consistently interesting–the kind of unapologetic sound a band like Vampire Weekend claims to aspire to without reaching.

39. Shugo Tokumaru - Exit
Pop music is often a very simple thing, but the most striking aspect of this third album by the Tokyo-based singer/songwriter is how many crazy moving pieces it seems to have, all without losing a basic pop appeal. Winds, tonal and rhythmic percussion, keyboards and guitars all get layered over each other in dense arrangements that manage to all work together without sounding overly cluttered. The result is experimental, but in the same way Brian Wilson was experimental–nothing exists for the sake of itself. And the album isn’t entirely dissimilar from Beach Boys style sunshine, but with a bedroom-recording feel and a distinctly Asian spin–one that’s charming without beating you over the head.

38. Lambchop - OH (Ohio)
By album number ten, one knows basically what to expect from the Nashville octet, but it’s still impressive how artfully it’s delivered. Kurt Wagner’s low speak-singing perfectly suits his strangely elocuted story songs, full of loaded lines like “They said I was a ditzy housewife and I have crude opinions of unpracticed men” (from “National Talk Like a Pirate Day”). The backing for these tales is lush and soft–clean guitars swell and fade in twain with gentle piano and string lines. Even the most energetic songs have a mellow, laid-back feel that takes a cue from the engaging voice, but the melodies and arrangements are among the richest the band has created this decade, and no one else really does what they do at all, let alone as well.

37. Bonnie “Prince” Billy - Lie Down in the Light
After two very impressive efforts–the lean, muscular Superwolf with Matt Sweeny and the textured, ambitious The Letting Go with Dawn McCarthy–Will Oldham pulls things in a bit, turning in a set of country-folk tunes that are some of his lightest work under the BPB name. Foiled vocally this time out by Ashley Webber (formerly of The Organ), Oldham’s voice sounds strong, which supports the brighter flavor in the lyrics as a whole (as opposed to, say, I See a Darkness). The music is built around acoustic guitars, but given flavor by a ton of neat touches, like the cool winds on “(Keep Eye On) Other’s Gain.” With each new turn, Oldham continues to impress and this record stands among his strongest material, even if it’s subtler than its predecessors.

36. Drive-By Truckers - Brighter Than Creation’s Dark
Calling a 19 track, 75 minute album “stripped back” seems counterintuitive, but Drive-By Truckers are a pretty indulgent band to begin with. That’s served them well (name another band that could actually pull off a 2-disc rock opera about Lynryd Skynyrd, seriously), but here they’ve returned to the more traditionally southern side of southern rock in their most straight-up country record since Pizza Deliverance. The result is an extremely accomplished band playing to their obvious strengths–the three vocalists frame their gin-soaked songs with their own distinct characters and the record never drops, even across its epic length, which is pretty damn impressive. Few bands of this type have had a career near this consistent and this album marks another in a string of great efforts from this Georgia collective.

35. Panic at the Disco - Pretty. Odd.
It’s true that the territory on this record has been mined before–bands have been ripping off The Beatles since the mid ’60s–but there are two things that make this record actually work. First, the fact that it’s such a sharp turn from the band’s skittering, a-melodic debut–there’s a real sense of artistic growth, even if it just means drawing from better influences. More important, though, is the light-hearted naivete the thing is soaked in. This is the sound of kids (half the band was not yet of drinking age when this was made) hearing the greats for the first time and thinking “Hey, I should try that!” without any of the context that burdens most groups. And seen in that light, the result is surprisingly catchy (see: “Mad as Rabbits”) and even pretty (see: “Northern Downpour”). I’d be loathe to call it great art, but I’m not ashamed of the fact that I listened to this album a lot this year, and given how much I dislike the first one, that bears recognition.

34. TV on the Radio - Dear Science
In trying to think of ways to describe this record, the best term I can come up with is “neo new-wave.” It draws a lot from the same kind of art rock affectations as new-wave: snaky, mechanical rhythms, funk and jazz influences, etc, but balances this out with a warmer, more emotive edge (listen to “Golden Age” and try not to picture an NYC block party). Album number three seems to have perfected what the Brooklyn quintet were after on Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes and Return to Cookie Mountain. The album is coherent and entrancing and I can see why other lists have rated this one a lot higher, but I think, like the prior two, it’s going to take me a little time to really get my head around it. I kinda like that, though, that there’s more to this than is apparent right away.

33. The Mighty Underdogs - Droppin’ Science Fiction
The first album by a sort of underground hip-hop supergroup (featuring Lateef the Truth Speaker, Gift of Gab and Headnodic), this record is a dense and dizzying affair–the sound of three distinct talents playing off each other in complex and fascinating ways. The production is outstanding, incorporating thick layers of sound and melody across trip-hop rhythms (DJ Shadow even guests on “UFC (Remix)”)–even absent the accomplished emcees, the record never gets boring. And the rapping itself runs the gamut from the more straightforward social consciousness of “Folks” or “So Sad” to the crazy, wild escapism of “Gunfight” or “Science Fiction.” Even if it’s hard to find footing at times, it’s music like this that keeps hip-hop vital and interesting, even to someone for whom it’s still a slightly foreign culture.

32. The Gutter Twins - Saturnalia
If you didn’t know, the Gutter Twins is a dream-team collaboration between Mark Lanegan and Greg Dulli, two of the most atmospheric and enduring musicians to come out the grunge heyday. The result, naturally, is an atmospheric, dark record with huge presence. Dulli takes the lead in the project and the thing drips with the gothic trashiness he does so wonderfully, but it’s infused with a guttural strength that’s Lanegan’s forte. The duo’s slightly twisted stories (”It’s alright to drag the lake and find the things you love”) get filtered through epic yet hazy guitars, throbbing bass and brooding strings. It’s a supreme night album, equal parts chilling and sensual, and bodes extremely well for any future collaboration these two might get to.

31. Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievances
Marshall covered this one pretty well, but I’ll throw my two cents in. It’s true Patrick Stickles does bear certain resemblance to Conor Oberst–he’s young, literarily smart, and beholden to strong emotions that cause him to wail out naked lines like “There is nothing I’ve ever done I didn’t learn to be ashamed of.” But unlike Mr Oberst, he’s not depressed about things–he’s pissed the fuck off. The songs on this album plummet forward like war marches, guitars and other sounds flying everywhere like wild sparks. Even during slow moments, as on “No Future, Part One,” there’s an impressive space and weight to the proceedings that create a force to be wrangled with. I’m immensely curious what the follow up to this fierce, intelligent headphones record will be–if it’s near this strong, this band could be huge.

Okay then. Three more days to go! (Phew.)

Howdy. Picking up from yesterday’s post, we’re ready to start into the list proper. I’d like to point out once again that this was a remarkably difficult list to make–more so than even in past years–and there are some great albums here. But I can’t waffle any more at this point–it’s time to shit or get off the pot. So here we go.

50. Fall Out Boy - Folie à Deux
I’m pretty sure any indie cred I still had just went out the window but, perhaps despite themselves, the band that most clearly represents late ’00s teenybopperism has created something interesting. The record catapults through its 13 tracks with admirable energy, plowing through random left-turns (eg: the Steely Dan breakdown and sudden, mysterious blues outro of “w.a.m.s.”) and often surprisingly lovely melodies (eg: the chorus on “Tiffany Blews”). They’re not shy about ripping off chords from The Who or directly quoting Nirvana, but that’s part of the point–the line between the overly-clever joke and the real thing gets blurred more than ever here. If one is willing to let go of pretensions and get swept up in that, the album turns out to be pretty enjoyable, so much so that it kinda caught me off guard.

49. Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul
After a more than a decade of being lost in the wilderness of their own egos, the Gallaghers have finally settled into middle age, in the process creating a surprisingly heavy, weary record. Ironically, it’s the weariness that breathes life into the album–as though the band has grown tired of trying to impress and simply settled back into their weird blend of post-Beatles/Stones riffing. Even without the excess pretension, the album manages to be pretty dense, but it has what Oasis records have lacked since 1995: a consistent groove. Tracks like “Waiting for the Rapture” and “(Get Off Your) High Horse Lady” rely on foot-stomping beats, while “The Turning” or “Falling Down” show a more textured, rainy-day psychedelia. Given that this is coming from a band most people have written off as a ’90s artifact, the strength of this outing is all the more impressive.

48. Owl City - Maybe I’m Dreaming
Coming out of nowhere, this self-release by “the top unsigned artist on Myspace” is basically like a mixture of rainbows and crack. It’s unrelentingly bright, comprised of a lush palate of skittering beats, soaring synth pads, guitars and electric pianos that seem kind of same-ish at first but reveal subtlety with each listen. And there will be multiple listens–the wide-eyed earnesty in Adam Young’s voice is endearing and charming and the melodies have high earworm potential, bounding along through the rich instrumentation like a wild unicorn. The lyrics also demand a certain amount of examination–tracks like “Super Honeymoon” and “Air Traffic” suggest a melancholy belied by the overall sound. It all adds up to a record destined to end up on repeat, like it did for me this summer, raising spirits all the while.

47. Of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping
Coming off the impressive Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, Kevin Barnes has created this… frantic mess of an album. It’s as though someone threw David Bowie, Prince, The Beatles, Freddie Mercury and Lou Reed into a blender and made the result the house band at a schizophrenic strip club. Songs change and shift without warning amidst a haze of funky bass, manic keyboard runs, falsetto vocals, sweeping strings, droning guitars and god knows what else. Declarations like “I’m sick of sucking the dick of this cruel, cruel world” or stories of people trying to freak out goats on an afternoon out litter the lyrics. I can see where the orgiastic sexuality and mind-fracturing sound might not appeal to everyone, but there’s a certain pleasure in decoding the album and the insane complexity of it is worthy of praise in and of itself.

46. Counting Crows - Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings
I’m pretty sure it’s not cool to like Counting Crows anymore, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that, after a 6 year break, they’ve put out the strongest album of their career. The sound is still that weird mix of R.E.M. and The Band, but each song here seems carefully put together, whether it’s the heavy, dirty guitar rock “1492″ or the somber beauty of the piano ballad “On a Tuesday in Amsterdam Long Ago.” The wistfulness of age, wisdom and memory litter this album–even a shiny pop moment like “Sundays” has a gorgeous, lilting chorus and the lyrics have a sly sadness to them throughout the 14 cuts, but not without a certain sense of humor that saves the thing from being whiny/overly morose. It’s a mature rainy day album that–like a number of albums on this list–infuses an older group with new strength and life.

45. Sigur Rós - Með Suð í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust
Adjectives like “inviting” and “cozy” aren’t usually applied to Sigur Rós albums, but they fit this one, a more fully realized version of the change in direction the band began with Takk…. While there are still epics, like the masterful, elegiac “Festival,” these are balanced out by playful pop music (see: “Inní Mér Syngur Vitleysingur”) and startling intimacy (see: “Illgresi”). This album is exactly what the band needs at this point in their career–there are enough haunting pianos, bowed guitars and trumpeting horns to keep old fans happy, but it also shows a band that knows they’ve mastered their trademark sound and is successfully branching out into new experiments. The care that seems to have been put into the album makes those experiments deftly successful and opens up possibilities for the band in their second decade.

44. The Raconteurs - Consolers of the Lonely
Jack White and Brendan Benson’s second outing as The Raconteurs is ragged, fierce and swaggering, combining the best aspects of both performers and topping the debut by a wide margin. White’s affection for dirty blues and southern flavor gets married to Benson’s pop melodies and harmonies in a sound that manages to be both lean (”Salute Your Solution”) and epic (”The Switch and the Spur”) while still providing a united front. The two vocalists are at the top of their game, mimicking each other’s affectations and flying between crooning and hollering at breakneck pace. There’s a cool sense of menace about the thing–whether it’s the sneering “Top Yourself” or “Carolina Drama,” which is exactly what the title suggests. It’s rare that a side-band rivals the main output of those involved, but if The Raconteurs keep putting out albums this sophisticated, they might eclipse even the meteoric White Stripes.

43. Juliana Hatfield - How to Walk Away
This album is both a change in sound for the guitar girl and a breakup album, but it’s surprisingly successful at both–a lush pop record that examines a complex set of emotions without drowning in misery. The guitars are still there, as is Ms Hatfield’s girlish voice and effortless melodies, but producer Andy Chase (of Ivy) adds a rich instrumental texture that sounds especially interesting coming off the raw Made in China. The lyrics range from angry (”Now I’m Gone”) to self-effacing (”The Fact Remains”) to slyly witty (as when she jokes “I went back up to Boston with absolutely nothing but a feeling”), to nakedly affectionate (”Such a Beautiful Girl”). On the one hand, this is a very adult record–while I would have liked it, I don’t think I’d have appreciated this as much as a teenager and I’ll bet it’ll appreciate as I experience more. On the other hand, it has a youthful vitality that showcases an artist is as relevant now as she was on 1992’s Hey Baby.

42. Lil Wayne - Tha Carter III
Lil Wayne is pretty much insane. The thing is, that insanity makes him the most interesting figure in mainstream hip-hop and, while this record conforms to certain conventions of the genre, it’s also a weird entity unto itself. While Weezy raps about bitches, money and fame, he does so in very odd ways, claiming to be a Martian, comparing himself to venereal disease and releasing one of the dirtiest singles of the year (”Lollipop”), all in his distinctly nasal voice and offbeat intonations. The backing tracks play into this strange sensibility, whether it’s the repeated and fairly spare vocal beat in “A Milli,” the almost-misplaced, skipping soul in “Let the Beat Build” or the jazzy bass and horns in “Dr Carter.” The album manages to have commercial appeal while still being somewhat experimental–it’s impossible to soak in all 77 minutes in one listen, which stands as an impressive feat in a genre that gets a lot of crap for being devoid of intellect.

41. The Kills - Midnight Boom
After two albums of tight blues-punk, Hotel and VV let loose a little bit this time out, putting out a half hour of sweat, sex and playful sass that also opens up their sound in new, weird directions. The relatively bare bones approach of Keep on Your Mean Side and No Wow gets flooded with strangely constructed beats, found sounds and polished effects while managing to maintain a spare intensity. The duo bounces between melodic flourishes, as on the hung-over ballad “Goodnight Bad Morning,” and urgent yelps like those that construct the machine-like “Getting Down,” sounding even more vigorous than before and giving each track more of an individual character than on prior outings. Funky undertones get played up and while the record is claustrophobic and bracing at times, it’s also a remarkably fun record to listen to, a soundtrack for the badass on a night of mischief.

So that’s it for today. There are still 40 more albums to count down, though, so stay tuned tomorrow for numbers 40-31.