Sarah’s Best of 2008, Part 5: #20-11
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.
