Favorites of 2015

Here's my year end wrap up and here's my podcast for my favorite tracks of the year:

Favorites of 2015 by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

~Austin

Favorites of 2014

Hey there—

Nope, not dead (sorry to disappoint to those fearsome few).  Just took a long break.  In case you were wondering what I've been doing (you probably haven't, but I'm going to tell you anyway), I was trying to complete fifty two recorded songs in fifty two weeks over on my Bandcamp page.  Well, I was successful.  Here are the results, should you choose to subject yourself to such a thing as me making music.

Back to the point at hand: as I do always around this season, I've compiled and uploaded a podcast of my favorite music released this year.  The tracklist is as follows:

The mix is available to stream here or from the widget below.

Favorites of 2014 by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

A few words to be said, rankings, and just an all around better text wrap-up can be found here.

Please enjoy.

 What's New? and general blog activeness will be making a return in the new year.

~Austin

Download my Favorites of 2013 mix.

When I did my Favorites of 2013 mix, I was having stereo issues and was not comfortable playing vinyl, so I basically just copied and pasted mp3 files into a wav editor.  This new version is 95% sourced from vinyl (and the songs that are not from vinyl are from official CDs) and I was in complete control of everything.  I know it's much easier to stream these days, but this is the definitive version of the mix and the way it was intended to be heard all along.  320kbps mp3, done in one take.  Straight from the vinyl (and, in a couple cases, the CD) to your ears.

Download here.

Full tracklist and info here.

Enjoy.

~Austin

Favorites of 2013

Here's a mix that contains all my most favorite music released in the twelve months since I did my last mix of a similar nature.  This has been one of the best years for new music in quite some time.

Favs of 13 by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

1)  King Krule — Easy Easy
2)  My Bloody Valentine — she found now
3)  The Ocean Blue — Sad Night, Where is Morning?
4)  ChameleonsVox — Heaven
5)  The Appleseed Cast — Cathedral Rings
6)  Atoms for Peace — Before Your Very Eyes. . .
7)  Sigur Rós — Ísjaki
8)  Juana Molina — El Oso de la Guarda
9)  King Krule — Foreign 2
10)  Kitchens of Distinction — Photographing Rain
11)  Sam Prekop — Pavillion 15
12)  The Ocean Blue — Fast Forward Reverse (prelude)
13)  The Ocean Blue — Fast Forward Reverse
14)  My Bloody Valentine — new you
15)  Travis — Reminder
16)  Andrew Bird — Pulaski at Night
17)  Mazzy Star — California
18)  William Tyler — Country of Illusion
19)  Shuggie Otis —Black Belt Sheriff
20)  King Krule — The Krockadile
21)  William Tyler — The World Set Free

 If you're goin' through hell, we just keep goin'.

~Austin

Favorites of 2011

Breaking from my usual format, instead of blabbering on (yet again) about how much I liked the music released this past year, I am simply going to let the music speak for itself.  Here are my favorite songs from my favorite albums of the year, sequenced in a way that you may find rewarding to listen to, if you should choose to do so.  Most of the songs are proudly sourced from vinyl, so headphone listening is encouraged.  It's ninety minutes long, so please allow yourself some free time to fully embrace it.

Favorites of 2011 by Austintayeshus on Mixcloud

Tracklist:
01 Jónsi — Why Not?
02 Kate Bush — Snowed in at Wheeler Street
03 Thurston Moore — Space
04 The Appleseed Cast — Middle States
05 The Sea and Cake — Inn Keeping
06 The Horrors — Endless Blue
07 Death Cab for Cutie — Doors Unlocked and Open
08 To My: Long Lost Love — If You Say So
09 PJ Harvey — In the Dark Places
10 The Feelies — Bluer Skies
11 Gavin Friday — The Sun and the Moon and the Stars
12 Radiohead — Separator
13 King Krule — The Noose of Jah City
14 The Beach Boys — Look (Song for Children)/Child is Father of the Man/Surf's Up
15 Fleet Foxes — Grown Ocean
16 David Sylvian — A Certain Slant of Light
17 Sigur Rós — Lúppulagið

I am participating this year in the St. Baldrick's fundraiser.  Go here to donate.  And yes, I'm serious: if I raise $500, the beard is coming off too.  Otherwise, it's staying and I will be an unsightly bald man with an inexplicable beard.

~Austin

Favorites of 2010

Returning to my old format of year-end listings; here we go for 2010....

My top albums of the year (no ordering, just stuff that I liked)
(as always when in lo-fi mode, if you want cover art, just google the titles)

Trembling Blue Stars — Fast Trains and Telegraph Wires/Cicely Tonight_Vol. 1
Album of the year, without question. I initially felt like Bob was maybe just going for that crowd pleasing 'hit it out of the park right after pointing at the stands' sort of thing and it turned me off. But, then it occurred to me: why shouldn't the indie pop Big Bambino knock one out for old time's sake? I swear to god, I feel like it's 1989 and I'm sitting in my bedroom doodling on spiral notebook lined paper when I'm listening to this album. While most people want to recreate a hipster pseudo-80's sound, Bob just writes songs in that mode all the time. The ancient drum machines, the melodramatic guitar effects; that's what he's done all along. And there's even a total bummer breakup dance anthem with 'Cold Colours'; vintage 80's, pure class. Even after the combination of Last Holy Writer/Exploring the Shadows EP three years ago, this is quite a shock. Rumors say that tBS only have an EP left in them. I mourn the loss, if so. But, holy sweet mother, what a magnificent swan song. Again: album of the year(s). Godlike.

The Durutti Column — A Paean to Wilson
Speaking of godlike... Never has such a beautiful album been so painful to listen to. Vini Reilly's proper tribute to Tony Wilson is nothing short of a 70 minute masterpiece. A bit heavy on the emotional end, sure, but such quality music is nearly impossible to underrate in the bigger picture. It was pretty clear from initial listens that Vini poured his entire soul in this album and that he suffered a stroke later in the year only enhanced its feeling of finality. Truly, if it is to be his last full studio album, consider it his final magnum opus (in a career of many).

Trashcan Sinatras — In the Music
Scottish jangle goes soft rock, amazing results. While their step in this direction was definitely hinted at with the mature jangle tones of Weightlifting, to have the music so successfully take on a breezy lite funk/jangle hybrid sound so convincingly was the real surprise. For a veteran act to venture so far from their initial sound and sound just as good as ever is truly a rare thing. Throw in ‘Oranges and Apples’ —arguably the band’s best song… well, ever— and you got one of the finest pure pop albums of the year.

Crowded House — Intriguer
Containing three of Neil Finn’s best songs ever, Intriguer was enough to convince me that the Crowded House reunion may just be one of the best ideas the guy has ever had. Sure, the band is arguably a Neil Finn solo project in all but name these days, but it’s not like he’s disrespecting the band’s legacy by releasing records this good.

Tracey Thorn — Love and its Opposite
Ditching the club-inclined beats of Out of the Woods and sounding more like an Everything But the Girl album (I’m thinking Love Not Money meets Idlewild meets Amplified Heart — i.e. a summary of the best of their best work), Love and its Opposite is a fantastic installment into an artist’s later work that adds even more depth to an already long-productive career. Saying an album like this is ‘mature’ is about as clichéd as it gets, so instead I’ll just say that it’s got a very pleasant, albeit a tad melancholy, ‘lived-in’ quality to it and mention that ‘Swimming’ is one of the year’s best songs.

Natalie Merchant — Leave Your Sleep
Listening to its warm production and taking in its obviously laboured-over everything (seriously, the thing came with a friggin’ book), it’s hard not to think that Natalie Merchant designed Leave Your Sleep as her bid for super serious high art that would endure past her alt-rock beginnings and propel her into the sphere of ‘seriously respected artist.’ And while it is without question a pretentious and sometimes failed affair, when it’s good, it’s good enough to overshadow the missteppings without much effort. I have my reservations about her turn away from more introspective-toned music —and subsequently towards what are essentially musical research projects— I have to admit that there is an undeniable warmth to the best songs offered here. It does feel less like ‘listening for pleasure’ and more like a project to actually sit through the whole thing (which runs in excess of two hours from front to back) but the highlights are high enough to merit repeat listens (too bad the summarized single disc version of the album missed some of the key moments, making the two disc version of the album the proper way to go). This presents an interesting quandary though: what could she possibly do next?

Gil Scott-Heron — I'm New Here
Although I did initially give this one five stars, and it certainly is extremely good, I have to back track on my perfect rating. There are five or so tracks here that are completely awesome in the way that they portray a musical visionary —who, by the most common of senses, should have died years ago because of his indulgences and addictions— in the most venerable stance of his entire career (which is quite a statement, as this is the same guy who did ‘Home is Where the Hatred Is’). There is definitely a sense of finality to the whole thing and Gil’s voice is not his best. But those things —a fragile voice realizing its own poignancy— combine for an affecting performance by one of the best that ever did it. It’s just that, the heavy beats, the cover songs… I’m not sure how those things really contribute to the best material on the album. The deluxe digital edition featured Gil playing some of his old classics accompanying himself on piano in between some interview bits (further evidence of Gil’s place as one of the true masters of the English language) and a mindblowingly good outtake (presumably from 1977’s Bridges album), so that was a nice little bonus. Overall, very good; not perfect though.

Ahmad Jamal — A Quiet Time
A bit of a change this go 'round for Ahmad, as there was no Idris Muhammad and the trio was expanded to a quartet with a percussionist. This seemingly would have changed the dynamic of the group considerably, but Ahmad's playing is as distinct as ever here, so, even with the changes, it's undeniably an Ahmad Jamal album. Things were a little more heated and swingin' on this album, shying away from the introspective tone of his last few albums. Because of this, the few ballads that are played really stick out. Maybe a slight dip in quality in comparison to his last two, but still up to his usual high standards.

Sade — Soldier of Love
Basically a continuation of the stripped down, strummy lite funk sound the band started on Lovers Rock. It holds together incredibly well as an album, but that's also a bit of a con, as —besides the amazing title track— this makes for a very samey album with only one real highlight. Still, it's better for an album to be samey and decent than samey and bad. And this one certainly falls into the former. I wouldn't care if she just turned in one of these sorts of albums every ten or so years because nobody else does what she does as consistently and as good.

Miles Kurosky — The Desert of Shallow Effects
I never thought I'd hear any new Beulah-related music ever again, honestly. Knowing that Miles had major reconstructive shoulder surgery and tons of rehabilitation, it explained why this album took so long to finally get recorded and released (he basically had to learn how to play guitar all over again). So, it's not like he spent seven years on this ten song, barely 40 minute long album. But, anticipation being what it is, it certainly felt like that was the case. So, is it any good? Well, for Beulah fans, hell yes it is. It sounds like When Your Heartstrings Break, but with completely poignant lyrics. The songs are full of big horn charts, string and woodwind blasts, shifting tempos, Beatles style harmonies, acoustic bass and just a ton of heartfelt pop. It's totally good, and yet. . . I can't help but feel it's a bit of an exercise in redundancy for Miles. Like he took all those reviews of Yoko that said, 'It's good, but it doesn't sound like Beulah' too much to heart and decided to give the world a crowd pleaser of an album. All cynicism aside, it is rather good. Just not great.

Belle and Sebastian — Write About Love
I said it before, but I’ll say it again here: easily their best album since Isobel left. ‘Come On Sister’ is pretty much my song of the year, but there’s at least four others on the album that are no-brainer highlights (and among the band’s best songs). The thing that everybody seemed to be talking about with this album was that Stuart was back into the role of ‘taking charge’ in the band, like that was what the band should have been about the entire time. But I don’t know, there are just as many duets, guests and non-Stuart moments as on previous albums, so I think this album’s quality has more to do with the sound. I mean, the keyboards and less-whispery vocals of recent albums are still there, but the songs all look back to the self-aware esoteric whimsy of the band’s glory years. So, this one got over strictly on vibe. Vibe and some undeniably genuine and downright great pop songs. Which is what made Belle and Sebastian so great in the first place, right?

Sam Prekop — Old Punch Card
Sam Prekop has never been shy about being kind of an eccentric artsy guy at heart. Sure, he writes gorgeous pop songs in the Sea and Cake, but every once in a while, a weird moment arose —an inexplicably noisy solo, a frantic and chaotic vocal outburst— either on his band’s or his own records and it never really seemed out of place. Because of his long-standing potential to just go off into left field, Old Punch Card was not quite as much of a shock as it probably should have been. Make no mistakes: this is an experimental electronic glitch album. There is almost no guitar to be found and absolutely no vocals whatsoever. The songs are split into schizophrenic fragments that bounce back and forth between blaring static, ambient keyboard interludes and what seems like found sound unfamiliarities. Not really my thing normally and I definitely would not have listened to it at all were Sam’s name not on the cover. In a cool move, Thrill Jockey made the album available in a limited edition that featured hand painted covers (each one consequently bearing it’s own unique cover image) and a select few that were signed by Sam himself (admittedly, this is what I was buying the album for). Very challenging music, but I did find some rewarding aspects to it upon repeated listens. Certainly not among my favorites of the year, but an interesting curiosity nonetheless. As it stands in the Sam Prekop chronology, a weird move for sure. Just watch: the next Sea and Cake album is the one where they finally go death metal.

Monster Movie — Everyone is a Ghost
Released on the irreproachable Grave Face label, this is actually the first album by Christian Savill’s post-Slowdive musical endeavor that I’ve checked out and, I have to say, I was unsure of what to make of the somewhat run of the mill indie pop sound initially. But, after a few listens, it occurred to me: the songs are fantastically written and played. There’s a sense of just good old classic indie attitude to the whole thing and that keeps the mood fun and thoughtful. There's just about every sub-style tackled here: jangle, synth pop, acoustic strummny numbers and even a vintage-sounding shoegaze track. Certainly not life changing, but executed darn well.

Jónsi — Go
There's a lot here for Sigur Rós fans to latch onto, as this album basically sounds like the awesome, uber-poppy first half of Með suð completely perfected and with a few gorgeous ballads thrown in for diversity. 'Animal Arithmetic' is in my songs of the year, for sure. And the overall album is definitely not just a stopgap Sigur Rós affair. There's a bright, almost giggly feeling to the material that I just don't ever get from Sigur Rós. So that counts for something. Sidebar: I love the cover art for the album, as well because it is such a fantastic representation of the music. At times throughout the album, it just seems to make sense that Jónsi would have ramshackle rainbows spewing from his brain. Because he certainly writes songs that sound like it.

And now, for my biggest disappointments…
None, really; besides all those dollar records I took a chance on. But that's a given when indulging in that sort of thing. I don't know. I guess I'm just not really into looking into things I know that I won't like anymore. I mean, yeah, all those stupid Kanye Wack/Vampire Weekend hipster bullshit Pitchfork approved atrocities sucked, but I didn't really expect anything else, so you can't legitimately call those disappointments, can you?

The albums that I wanted to check out, but never did, based on whatever variables…
Too many to get into. Most of them reissues on the unimpeachable LTM label. I'll see you soon, Low Life.

I hesitate to call this the ‘rediscoveries’ section because I never discovered these records until this year, but a lot of people call it that. Anyway, here’s a bunch of older things that I just caught up to in 2010…
Kate Bush
Don't believe me? Check out the most played artists in my last.fm library. Yes, I just started listening to her six months ago. I feel stupid.

Slowdive — Pygmalion deluxe edition
When Creation reissued the band's catalogue in 2005, Pygmalion stuck out big time because it was the only album that did not receive a fantastic expanded second disc. I don't know why the wealth of material that now appears on this new Cherry Red reissue was held back for so long, but I'm elated to finally have it. The bonus material on disc two eclipses the running time of the proper album and most of it consists of otherwise unheard songs. So, yeah, basically the great lost fourth Slowdive album. I already considered Pygmalion a musical milestone, but these newly released vault recordings just enhance its prestige for me.

Sigur Rós
This actually is rediscovery in the traditional form. I once had everything of theirs up to the parentheses album (even the sweet ten inch record!). But, I don't know. I just ditched it all one day in favor of Frank Zappa albums (I know — can it get any dorkier?). But I just picked them up again this year. Sparked by the random pick up of the Hvarf/Heim set, I was off. The parentheses album and Takk have become my favorites, but sweet googly moogly, that first half of Með Suð is something I regret disregarding two years ago. Quickly becoming one of my favorite bands.

Orange Juice
Mostly based around the release of the fantastic ...coals to newcastle box set. It's six discs and was just released about a month ago, so I've yet to really soak all of it in. But I have focused on the Glasgow School and Rip it Up discs (the title track on the latter is a classic for the ages) and those are both perfect examples of super polishy, exquisitely jangly new wave at its absolute best. Highlights from other discs: 'What Presence?!', 'Consolation Prize', 'Salmon Fishing in New York' and 'Bridge.' Wonderful stuff and I look forward to really digesting it all in the coming months.

The Wake
One band that the LTM label has reissued I did get to check out this year. They started out on Factory in the early 80's and moved over the Sarah label in the early 90's. One of the most unfairly overlooked jangle bands of the 80's.

Mixed media? Why mix media when I'm essentially not interested in anything but music?
Yes, I've officially become a buzzkill unless you want to talk about new wave or Stereolab. I'm lame. Deal with it.

And because I love you all, here's a new feature this year: a streamable 63 minute mix of my favorite songs of the year...Sorry, friend.  The internet sometimes deletes things.

A pretty good year, I'd say.

~Austin

Albums of the past deacde: 2009

Alright, so this is it. The last year of the decade. As these albums are still very fresh on my mind compared to things released ten years ago, I will be treating this as my proper year-end list for 2009 (a tradition that I've done for the previous two years of this blog's existence). I considered a post summing up the decade with an absolute 'best of the best' sort of post, but why bother. What's here is here. Read through my thoughts on the previous years if you'd like to know what I really thought of my mentionable albums. So, without any further delay, here's the rest of it...

The Appleseed Cast — Sagarmatha

Let's just get this out of the way right now: the band's second best album after Low Level Owl and one of the top ten of the decade, without question. I had a difficult experience with this album at first. The drums were EQ'd and mic'd differently. Chris' vocals were mixed in low with extra intent. Why the buttrock guitar tone at the end of 'South Col'? What the hell, guys? Are you trying to isolate me? Yes, they were, in all truthfulness. They were trying to isolate every person who heard this album into an area of coolly passionate, introspective-obsessed, star gazing wonderment. I mean, bottom line here: wow. They captured the dreamy, chaotic feeling of the self-realization of existing as a single organic being among the vastness of a mostly empty universe quite perfectly for the second time on record. It was released a day before my 28th birthday and I have a hard time coming to grips with the fact that it's only been a part of my life for just over a year at this point. It feels timeless. Poorly mixed-in unintelligible vocals or completely instrumental eight minute tracks, three minute pop songs or six-and-a-half minute long multi-movement epics, it was all here and it still is like a brand new instant classic to me. It's like the perfect extension of Low Level Owl, without the laboring-over of moods. And while Low Level Owl is better because of its consideration for such nuances, Sagarmatha is arguably the more crowd pleasing of the two albums because of its brilliant dichotomy of immediately likable riffs with challenging, ever-evolving soundscapes or obtuse production techniques with honest, minimalist presentations. Truly, if they hadn't already made Low Level Owl, this would be a godlike masterpiece for me. But, as it stands, it's merely the second best album by a band that can lay claim to releasing not one, but three of the decade's most progressive and exceptional albums. I know, in text, that seems drab and anti-climactic to state in such a matter-of-fact way, but I can't even articulate it beyond that; they're just that fucking good.

Death Cab for Cutie — The Open Door EP

I had to get it as soon as possible because it was, essentially, outtakes from Narrow Stairs. It was essentially less produced, but equally as high calibre, material. 'My Mirror Speaks' was the highlight for me. Reminded me of the Smiths more than anything else DCFC has yet done. The tone was jubilant, but the words just as bummed as Narrow Stairs. Overall, it was the sort of super satisfying EP that sounded like the logical extension of its preceding full length. The kind of expectedly great little extra credit project that great bands provide their fans with every so often. Really interested to hear their next move.

Doves — Kingdom of Rust/Instrumentals of Rust


Doves returned from their magnum opus with their most confounding and dense work since Lost Souls. I mean, I really struggled with this one for a good few months. Sure, I picked out a few songs like the title track, 'Spellbound' and the seeming New Order nod 'Compulsion', but for the most part, it was a series of seemingly unrelated, purposely dense mazes of songs whose actual tunes and melodies were seemingly playing hide and seek. A couple months after the proper release of the album, in a move that makes me really question the band's motives, they released a completely instrumental version of the album (on digital download only) titled Instrumentals of Rust. At first, I was cynical as hell. I didn't really care for the album in the first place, and furthermore, why would I want to hear the songs without vocals? Well, eventually, because they are one of my favorite bands, I caved and just went for it. And I'm glad I did. Perhaps hearing the album without vocals was what I needed for the tunes to open up completely, because after familiarizing myself with the songs without vocals, I revisited Kingdom of Rust proper and it sounded like a brand new album to me. It felt like a much more cohesive piece of music as an instrumental album, and knowing that, hearing the vocal version again felt a little more unified and the album just came across as a more understandable piece of art. Context was all it took. Not my favorite Doves album, but I actually consider it a good one after hearing the instrumentals, whereas maybe I would've continued being confused by it if I hadn't.

Jon Hassell — Last Night the Moon Came Dropping its Clothes in the Street

I find it a little comedic that Jon Hassell is essentially making the same music he was thirty years ago and yet, his music still sounds like nothing else. I mean, it's funny in an awesome way, but it's also a little telling: Jon Hassell is one of the most undervalued talents in modern music (even by me; this was his first new album I had purchased since Blue Screen, so don't feel bad). Of course, I am familiar with him through his work with David Sylvian, and the more I familiarize myself with his work, the more I realize just how influential he was on one of my musical heroes. That says a lot in and of itself. This album, like I said, is maybe a bit less dissonant than 4th World or Vernal Equinox, but sounds like a completely logical peer of those works. The whole thing supposes background music, but close listens reveal stellar improvisation and still the best modern interpretation and just an all around general grip on what Miles Davis was trying to do with his mid-70's ambient improv funk. The title track here is absolutely mammoth and such sparsely beautiful works recall a post-modern classical ideal filtered through the thought of music as not so much of a popular medium, but something that is not meant to be immediately understood, classified or criticized; it simply exists for pure admiration. Making comparisons with early Durutti Column or mid-period Tangerine Dream seems relevant, but limiting, while simultaneously, it makes contemporary 'mellowed out' music peers like Sigur Ros and the likes seem like sick jokes. It's a very, very good album. I truly don't think I've fully grasped its complete quality yet.

Bobby Hutcherson — Wise One

All tunes made popular by, or most closely associated with, John Coltrane. As if this weren't a winning enough combo, Bobby brought in guitarist Anthony Wilson (not the same as that Manchester bloke with a similar namesake) and it accented his usual quartet with a wonderful and equally as beautiful tonal quality. The tunes are done justice in the way that Bobby takes the high road and just plays them in the classiest way possible, but without staying too polite or reserved. I mean, just look at the gripping intro to 'Spiritual' for proof that this band was playing these tunes out of pure respect and admiration — not trying to outdo or even recreate what Trane did with them originally. After a couple all-ballads studio albums, this one felt like an album that Bobby could really sink his teeth into, dig in and get passionate about. It shows when listening to the album, as it sounds like his most inspired soloing on record in years. A truly rewarding later period gem from a master that maybe seemed like he had lost the fire. But, as this album shows, he still has as much fire and class as his classic period.

Maxwell — BLACKsummers'night

I still stand by my original review of it. If anything has changed since then, it's only that I've come to an even deeper understanding of the music. After the hype, the built-up expectations, the excitement and the obsessive listening, BLACKsummers'night stands up right next to Embrya as the contender for Maxwell's (so far) masterpiece. Where Embyra was a super cerebral study in obsession, taken to its absolute musical extremes and dabbling into super layered exquisite overproductions, Now and —even more so— BLACKsummers'night are the logical back to basics presentations. Most of BSN has a live-in-studio feeling to it. With such modest presentation and such short running length, it would possibly spell out inevitable disappointment, but in a twisted move, Maxwell presented eight of his best songs ever and a short instrumental outro. Unconcerned with presenting an overworked double extra credit overlong pseudo-masterpiece, he simply took thirty seven minutes to create some of the most heartfelt and passionate music of the decade. And, with a song like 'Help Somebody,' he created an absolute classic for the ages. I have a hard coming to grips with albums as solid as this one. Its length makes it very easily digestible, but the raw emotion and soul-bearing contained within its content makes the grooves and melodies more than just a likable little pastime. Embrya has the edge, simply because it came first, but BLACKsummers'night seems to be the be statement of purpose for a master humbly asserting his mission statement in preparation for the unleashing of his true apex. A manifesto for a masterpiece. Absolutely one of the best of the decade. God, I love this album.

Radiohead — These Are My Twisted Words (single)

Ok, not an album. But it was a confrontational step sideways in the creative evolution of a band that never seems to stop. And it was free! Seriously, have at it. They just want you to hear it. Maybe not quite as good as 'Weird Fishes,' it certainly would have made that second half of In Rainbows better, wouldn't it? Amongst my songs of the decade.

Sonic Youth — The Eternal

Alright, so here it was: the Youth's first 'real' indie label material in over a decade. And guess what? I thought it was a little underwhelming. It sounded like a more garagey version of Rather Ripped to me. Like, they had the same amount of strong melodies to work with, but they just didn't care as much this time, so they turned up the amps and let it fly. I don't know. It's Sonic Youth and it's still good. It just felt a little overlong and, in a completely see-through attempt at reacting at the last album's 'clean' sound, unnecessarily and gratuitously distortionary and loud. Still, good songs. Presentation left something to desired, but I can now look at the Murray Street/Sonic Nurse/Rather Ripped group of albums as somewhat of an epic trilogy of less and less confrontational — but, contradictory, more poignant material. This album feels to me like Sonic Youth being played by the book and while there's good songs ('Antenna,' for instance, rules), they all have that stock Sonic Youth sound that feels like a total regression in 2009. I like it, but I don't. The bonus materials for Matador's 'Buy Early, Get Now' program were definitely fun though.

David Sylvian — Manafon

A complete return to the bleak themes and mostly accapella nature of Blemish. No drums anywhere and stark, minimalist guitar chords struck randomly amidst glitchy white noise and sporadic acoustic bass pluckings. It's been in my life for a good six months by now and the only song that's really managed to strike a chord with me is the album opener 'Small Metal Gods.' Sweet jesus, that song is good. But man, I thought Kingdom of Rust was impenetrable? This album just may as well not even exist, if that's the measuring stick. I've heard the album dozens of times by now, but feel completely unfamiliar with it, if that tells you anything about it. I have no idea how to articulate this music in text. I like it, but I don't know why. I don't understand it, but I feel like I will eventually. It reminds me of other things, but none of those things make immediate sense when I actually compare them to it. A typically boundary pushing, truly challenging work from one of the musicians whom I would consider amongst 'the unimpeachable.' At this point, I can't even say if it's amongst my favorite anything, but I am still absolutely enthralled by it, which counts for something.

Windimoto — Sinister Beauty

Again, a shout for these guys, because they do it from the heart. 'There Are Better Days For Us' counts among my songs of the decade — as a semi-affiliate of the band or not. It just sounds like one of those classic yearning love songs that you'd swear you heard in your dad's record collection. The rest of the album is good, but it is one of those cases where they basically start the record with their best song ever and the rest of the album begs a bit of a deeper listen to fully appreciate. 'Shake it Down' certainly works one of their better grooves to serious success, while elsewhere 'Three Scenes' is an uncharacteristically downtempo spoken word piece that sounds like perhaps the band's most unintentionally poignant piece yet. Overall, a bit more of an involved listen than Travels, but —perhaps in the grand stereotypical tradition— the great, challenging artistic step forward that the second album is supposed to be.

And there it went. The 'ought whatevers' in my ears as a music dork. Hope you dug it.

~Austin

Albums of the past decade: 2008

Erykah Badu — New AmERYKAH Part One: 4th World War

A schizophrenic and dark album with very few actual songs contained on it. Most of the tracks were divided between partial song sketches and things that played like extended interludes. While this made the album a great all at once listen for the first few runs, it exposed the lack of substance in the material fairly quickly. The fully fleshed out songs were on a completely other level of awesome though: 'Solider' was thought provoking and breezy, 'The Cell' was absolutely badass funk with one of the best basslines this side of 1975 and 'Telephone' was a confusingly personal and poignant tribute the late J Dilla. Overall, it was definitely a return to an actual muse and passion after the seeming apathy of Worldwide Underground, but it still wasn't seeing anything on Mama's Gun or Baduizm. As evidenced by songs like 'Telephone' and the seeming afterthought (but still an album highlight) 'Honey,' she's at her best when dealing with matters of the heart, while this album was dominated by political and social issues. As such, it came off mostly as an angry bunch of unfocused rants. And, as funky and as hummable as some of them were, it was more off-putting than it was satisfying.

The Breeders — Mountain Battles

Despite the two tracks in other languages, it sounded like Pod. Flippin' awesome. It was a noticeably toned-down affair with songs like 'Night of Joy,' 'We're Gonna Rise' and 'Sparks' containing almost no distortion whatsoever and slow tempos all around. However, there were some vintage sounding songs, too. Things like 'Walk it Off' or 'It's the Love' could have come from Pod or Last Splash (and would have been highlights there as well). Overall, it was easily better than Title TK and is arguably their second best album.

Nicola Conte — Rituals

Although the near-exclusive focus on vocal cuts was initially a disappointment, the tunes were so good that, repeated listens revealed it to be just another step in the man's evolution. There was much more of Nicola's own guitar to be heard on this album, so he actually seemed like a true bandleader this time around, instead of just a director. 'Karma Flower' is likely one of the best album openers of the decade, while 'Red Sun' was the sort of neo-lounge jazz that just felt like a timeless piece of music from the first time I heard it. The new traditionalist stance that Nicola has taken all along was personified with a rousing update of the standard 'Caravan.' The title track (the only fully instrumental tune) closed out the album on a meditative and gorgeous note and it solidified for me that, while maybe in the past, Nicola's constant contemporary updating of classic sounds may have come across as a bit forced, this album was the real deal. Sure, Other Directions inspired an entire scene, so I dig it more just because its timing left a bigger impression on me, but Rituals perfected the ideal.

The Cure — 4:13 Dream (and singles)

In one of the most awesome moves of album buildup not seen since the early 80's, the Cure released four (count 'em) two song singles, one per month, in the months leading up to the full length's release. While I was split down the middle with the success of the selected a-sides ('The Perfect Boy' and 'The Only One' were awesome, 'Sleep When I'm Dead' and especially 'Freakshow,' not so much), all four of the b-sides were exceptionally good (in the band's tradition, I guess). My expectations were kept at a minimum because I was expecting another self-titled album (great singles and b-sides, so-so everything else). I was wrong. Porl Thompson returned to the band for his third time overall, they ditched having a live keyboardist and funneled that newly found love of noise and heavy distortion into their most well-rounded album since Wish. Starting off with what is destined to be a Cure classic forever and ever, 'Underneath the Stars' was just absolutely the epitome of why the Cure is the Cure; and, subsequently, why the Cure is so damn unique in the first place. 'The Hungry Ghost' seems to be everyone's favorite from this album and I can see why. The six string was back on the seriously great 'The Reasons Why' and there was a Cure first, as 'Siren Song' had an (amazing) pedal steel riff. I was cynical as hell of good old Bob, but the album was seriously good regardless. Among their best albums? Probably not. A surprisingly strong and consistent later work? Without question. Absolutely restored my faith in the band.

Death Cab for Cutie — Narrow Stairs

And, speaking of bands making (perhaps surprisingly) strong albums after somewhat missteps. I can go back to Plans now and pick out the good aspects, but at the time, my expectations for Narrow Stairs were non-existent. That is, until I heard 'I Will Possess Your Heart.' At which point, my expectations shot somewhere into the lower stratosphere. The lead single for Plans was 'Soul Meets Body,' a nice jangly pop song, but very much what you'd expect from them. The lead single for Narrow Stairs was 'I Will Possess Your Heart,' an 8+ minute epic that was essentially a worryingly obsessive and dark narrative of unrequited love. And the bassline was epic. Well, the first time I heard the album, 'Bixby Canyon Bridge' blew me away. A disappointing and poignant self-realization, using Jack Kerouac's beautifully ugly life as its muse, it's the best DCFC album opener (yep, even better than 'The New Year') and, to be followed by 'I Will Possess Your Heart,' I knew I was in for some heavy shit. Reaching near Disintegration levels of gloom at some points, I was, in retrospect, completely perplexed that they became even more popular on the back of an album that was essentially one of the most brutal breakup albums this side of Rumours. I mean, the entire middle trilogy of 'You Can Do Better Than Me,' 'Grapevine Fires' and 'Your New Twin Sized Bed' was the equivalent of Ben just saying, "Love sucks, life sucks" repeatedly over different riffs for ten minutes. Closing with the confrontationally bleak 'The Ice is Getting Thinner,' Narrow Stairs is easily the band's darkest and most fully produced album yet. But, with the cabaret pop of 'You Can Do Better Than Me,' the angular post-punk of 'Long Division' and the post-rock-informed Appleseed Cast-esque noisy guitar mini-symphony 'Cath...' it was also their most most musically varied and diverse album yet. A confounding and labyrinthine work of beautiful gloom, it feels like the spiritual follow up to Transatlanticism and is definitely their second best album.

The Durutti Column — Treatise on the Steppenwolf

As much as I will sing the praises of Vini Reilly's output this past decade in this series, I will not, under any circumstances, support this release whatsoever. It was misleading, plain and simple. Sure, there's a couple new songs, but 85% of the album is old songs under new titles. Not new takes of old songs. Nope, they couldn't even be arsed to record new versions. A lot of the songs were rehashed from Sporadic Three. Sure, there were a couple new songs (mostly keyboard doodlings), but if anything good is to be said about it, this did have a couple insightful revisions of 'Drinking Song' (titled here 'A Beautiful Thought Part Two' and sounding like an even more heavily effected take of the tune than the one on Sporadic Three) and an extra long alternate take of 'Woman' (retitled here 'Stupid Steppenwolf Part Two'). Apparently, a stage production selected some Durutti songs as its soundtrack and that explains the album's existence. There are two live tracks (presumably performed at the actual stage production), including an excellent short take on 'Mello.' It would have been nice if all of the songs had had their proper titles listed on the cover, so I would've known exactly how many of these tunes I already knew note for note. Beyond disappointing. More like annoying.

The Durutti Column — Sunlight to Blue...Blue to Blackness

Alright, this is more like it! The picture of a much more youthful Vini on the cover was not just a cool photo for a cover; it seemed to be an acknowledgment of how the album's stripped down sound was more along the lines of Vini's minimal work from the early 80's when the photo was taken. Bruce is only on a couple tracks and the slow, quiet, mostly solo guitar melodies seem to be done in the grand tradition of jazz players recording an all ballads album to say goodbye to recently lost friends. Indeed, this was the first new Durutti material after Tony Wilson's untimely departure. As a calm and modest follow up to Idiot Savants, however, it was a brilliant move. Instead of focusing on the Technicolor-infused arrangements, it stripped Vini's sound back to its essence. And it sounded incredibly poignant because of that. 'Messages,' with its uncharacteristic harmonica and xylophone melody, has become one of my favorite Durutti songs, while the original acoustic-only instrumental demo for 'Gathering Dust' made the tune all the more important to me. Elsewhere, a revisit of 'Never Known' from 1981's LC was unexpected and awesome, while 'So Many Crumbs and Monkeys!' sounded like a Keep Breathing outtake (in a good way) and 'Head Glue' was a glorious feature for Poppy Morgan. Classic Durutti Column, circa 2008. How does he do it?

Fleet Foxes — Sun Giant EP

I'll say it right now: I don't get Fleet Foxes. I love them. But, who in the fuck exactly do they think they are, blending Crosby Stills and Nash with Slowdive? I don't know if this is something that would've been arrived at inevitably and they just had the balls to do it first, but I have a hard time thinking just anybody could conjure up something as epic and layered as 'Mykonos.' As far as what a pre-album EP is supposed to do (that is, build up huge anticipation with as few songs as possible), Sun Giant did its job astoundingly well. Come to find out, it was recorded after the sessions for the proper album. You don't say. A quick shot of brilliance from one of the decade's most unforeseen sources of quality.

Fleet Foxes — Fleet Foxes

I remember being boggled and having somewhat of an out-of-body experience the first time I heard it. I mean, I knew it was good. This was clear. It was just such a thick concentration of quality that my brain literally stopped. It just couldn't keep up. I listened to it damn near exclusively for a week before the songs even started to differentiate from each other. Besides the Appleseed Cast and his own music (and maybe Medulla), I don't recall any other album this decade giving me the same vibe and genuine outpouring of sheer emotion since David Axelrod. There is so much grasp in this music on maturity and life experience. I often listen to it and have trouble reconciling the fact that the majority of band members are all three to five years younger than I am. Robin Pecknold's voice was just belting and passionate and unlike anything I'd ever heard on an album that had so much consideration for internal evaluation. Tackling big life changes, using the change of seasons as its main device, in 'White Winter Hymnal' may seem like a tedious idea when I try to convey here in text, but listen to the song and it has a powerful effect; a warmth and clarity mostly unheard of in today's (indie) musical climate. There is a very distinct feeling in this album of timelessness and utter importance, but it never sounds like anything less than the naive and earnest document of young musicians coming to grips with the world as adults. Stunning, through and through. Definitely tops.

Al Green — Lay it Down

As a frequent poster on the okayplayer.com message forums, I had been aware of a Questlove and James Poyser produced Al Green album for at least 18 months. After Questlove had mentioned it so many times and no news of it actually being released was ever heard, I just started to assume it would never see the light of day. Well, much to my surprise, it actually happened. And it sounded like classic 70's Al Green. Questlove wanted Al to record an album that would have sounded right at home as the follow up release to Call Me or or I'm Still In Love With You. And while we can get very cynical about the implications of Al Green recording music that purposely sounded like it was thirty five years old, the bottom line was: it was his best album since the late 70's. So, cynicism be damned. The whole thing sounded like outtakes from his classic period and, let's face it, isn't that what I what secretly wanted all along? Yes. Yes, it was. Fantastic.

Ahmad Jamal — It's Magic

At this point, he was cranking them out like it was 1964. Another batch of lively new compositions, another somewhat brief (but no less surprising) revival of 'Swahililand' and a percussionist this time and it's unbelievably high quality and consistent business as usual for a living freakin' legend. Not the best of his new millennium albums by a longshot, but better than a lot of the stuff even being mentioned in this series. When a musician sets the bar as high as Ahmad has set it for himself, even a seeming second tier album like this blows past most of its contemporaries. Ho-hum; the world keeps turning. He was nearly 80 when it was recorded. I've already accepted that I will do nothing this good in my entire life and I'm not even 30. But I love it.

The Occasional Keepers — True North

The first Occasional Keepers album was a strange, unexpected curiosity that I would have been completely happy if they had just pretended like the thing never existed in the first place and left the album to exist in a solitary unexplained mystery. When I heard about a second album, I thought, 'Well, hey, bonus!' But, as it turns out, True North is less like a side project and actually feels like the group has become a genuine working unit. I wanted it to be another dreamy curiosity, but it was actually a concise, song-oriented pop record; the sort of thing you would have expected from a Sarah records supergroup all along. Where The Beauty of the Empty Vessel felt like Caesar had a bit of input, but it was mostly Bob's show, True North is Caesar's show. 'If the Ravens Leave' and 'Town of 85 Lights,' which also sound nothing like you would have expected, were excellent songs. Bob did come by later on to drop 'Leave the Secret There Forever' —one of his best songs ever and easily among the decade's best tunes— but it really was Caesar who delivered the meat of this album. Beauty of the Empty Vessel sounds great at 2am, but True North sounds great anytime, quickly establishing itself as the better of the band's (so far) two albums. If they continue to develop this quickly, album number three will be better than anything Bob or Caesar has done previously. I look forward to it.

The Sea and Cake — Car Alarm

Returning to their old work ethic, the Sea and Cake let Car Alarm loose just a few months after the tour for Everybody had ended. And guess what? It ruled. I have emotional attachments to Everybody for personal reasons so I have a hard time saying any of their albums not called The Fawn or OUI are better than it, but Car Alarm comes damn close. The teaser pre-album track was 'Weekend,' a look back to the dancey, electronics-accented sounds of One Bedroom. I was not apprehensive though, because it was a concise, under three minute pop song (even with nearly a full minute of vamping at the beginning too!). It still strikes me as one of the decade's best, not to mention one of the band's best. The album was varied and energetic, providing a balance to Everybody's somewhat calm introspective tone. Songs like 'New Schools,' 'The Staircase' and especially 'Pages' showed the band was as creatively vital as ever. It may be a bit too all over the place for its own good, seemingly trying to summarize the band's entire history into one album, but when the songs are digested as works unto themselves, it can easily be looked at as another stunning statement of relevance by a band that never seems to run out of ideas.

~Austin

Albums of the past decade: 2007

The Arctic Monkeys — Favourite Worst Nightmare

Although they were more hype than substance initially, I was still listening even after a disappointing debut album because, gosh darnit, I love British bands. The first single 'Brianstorm' was more loud tuneless Clash wannabe revival rock and I was a little bummed. But then, hey, 'Fluorescent Adolescent' came out of nowhere and I was genuinely taken aback. It struck me as a layered, thought-out, mourningly melodic classic Brit-pop single; something that truly was an heir to the throne of such greats as the Cure and the Smiths. When the next single was the surprisingly poignant 'Teddy Picker,' I knew something was up. I checked out the album and genuinely loved it from first listen. It's a varied, diverse collection of songs that shouldn't work well together but, for some reason, do. There's a lot of emotion and downright regret and pain in this album and, because of it's loud/pretty/quiet/loud again/pretty again dynamic, it still strikes me as one of the most sincere albums inspired by the early 80's post-punk goliaths to which the Monkeys were initially compared. There's twelve tracks and just about six of those are downright fantastic songs from where I'm listening. The heartwrenching epic breakup narrative 'Do Me A Favour' is the best the Monkeys have yet done —or, indeed, may ever do. A genuine surprise and I still listen to it frequently — despite the fact that I don't consider myself an Arctic Monkeys fan by even the most liberal of definitions. That says something about this album.

Bjork — Volta

'Earth Intruders' is one of the best songs of the decade, without question. But, when that was the pre-album single, my expectations were elevated to unachievable status pretty quickly. There's even better songs on Volta (hi, 'Innocence' and 'Wanderlust'), but this was the first Bjork album, well ever, that I was not blown away by. The bar had been set too unachievably high with the back-to-back combo of Vespertine and Medulla and I just wasn't that into it, besides a few songs. It was too all over the place and seemed to rely too much on people other than Bjork for its creative jumping pff points (seriously, two songs with indie flavor of the monther Paul Hegarty [aka Antony] was necessary?). I guess it goes to show how awesome Bjork is that her 'worst' album still had some stunning moments on it. Overall though, yeah, it's her worst.

Celebration — The Modern Tribe

Super awesome modernness from the revamped 4AD. It's like post-punk meets northern soul meets something I'm obviously unfamiliar with because I don't know what to call it. Blending an undeniable dance-punk drum stop with a distinct Hammond B-3 overtone and Katrina Ford's wailing show-stealing vocals, Celebration truly sounds like the sort of music that the 4AD label should be putting out in the 2000's: genre-bending, undefinable tone poems with dreamy undertones. I didn't get it at all at first. But the more I listened, the more I realized, this is fairly unique music in the current climate. Far too heart-bearing to be considered a dance band, but far too incidentally funky to be considered a traditional indie band. And plus, 'Heartbreak' is a total anthem for the ages. I love this album. It really did hit me without expectation; a rare occurrence in this age of instant information.

The Durutti Column — Sporadic Three

Going in knowing this was basically an odds and ends collection, I didn't expect much, but in true Durutti fashion, it knocked my socks off within the first three songs. Granted, I knew variations of a good third of this material before I knew these renditions, it didn't matter. The 4-track solo demo of 'Big Hole' (retitled here 'Dig A Hole'), the super effected third version of 'Drinking Song' (retitled here 'Drinking Time Version'), the stripped-down (and, let's face it, better) run-through of 'I B Yours' and a redux on the theme of 'Sing To Me' sans vocals (and retitled 'For Loretta'); it was all ear candy of the highest order for Durutti obsessives like me. But that's not to discount the original material. It all kicked off with 'Birthday Present (aka For Cheryl)' which is one of Vini's best solo multi-layered guitar instrumentals for quite some time. Elsewhere, 'Mama and Papa (aka Orphan)' managed to be a mind-expanding meeting of the twentieth and twenty first centuries through sound. Seriously great riff, too. As if all of that weren't good enough, 'Trust the Art, Not the Artist' is one of Vini's best songs period and it all ended with 'For Danny (aka Mavuchka),' which was an outtake from 1981's classic LC album (!) and it totally ruled, despite the (understandably) deteriorated quality. It was uncohesive as hell, but had enough good points about it that I played it to death regardless.

The Durutti Column — Idiot Savants

So, if Sporadic Three was the ugly outtakes and odds and ends collection, Idiot Savants was the James Cameron-style labored over and absolutely perfected masterpiece. Good god, this album is awesome. To this day, it's still like a new album to me. I play it relentlessly. Just when I think I've decided that, absolutely for sure, my favorite song is 'Gathering Dust,' I'll hear 'Interleukin 2 (for anthony)' in a different context and it will switch to that song being my favorite (and inevitably back again). It still seems incredibly fresh to me (nearly three years later!), so I really feel like I'm totally biased, but this album is Vini Reilly's late career magnum opus. All great artists have them. This is his. It's especially poignant, as it was probably the last new Durutti material Tony Wilson heard before he passed. Absolutely, positively, without question in my top five of the decade. Two words: Fucking masterpiece. Enough said.

Feist — The Reminder

If Let it Die seemed a little overproduced and reserved in retrospect, The Reminder rectified that within the first track. I don't know what it is —and don't get me wrong, because Let it Die is awesome— but this feels like Fiest's true second album. It's much closer in sonic comparison and overall emotional theme with Monarch than Let it Die was, it's almost like a different musician entirely. And plus, the songs just kicked ass. Just look at the first three songs: 'So Sorry,' 'I Feel it All' and 'My Moon My Man.' Truly, wow. But then there was '1 2 3 4' which was such a huge hit, I often forget that she's now considered a real pop star because of it. 'Honey Honey' is still the highlight for me though. I anticipated a studio rendition of it ever since she played an epic solo version of it live in a tiny pub in Sparks well over a year before The Reminder was released. And the proper version did not disappoint at all. One of the most satisfying albums I've heard in a really long time. And considering my expectations were really damn high, I'd consider this one of the decade's best.

Stephen Fretwell — Man On the Roof

I hated this album on the first few listens. What a load of indulgent tripe, I thought. I just didn't get it, at all, whatsoever. I loved Magpie right away, but that's because I had had a proper introduction to the highlights when he played them live. I had nothing to go on for this album, and it was cluster of intensely personal recollections that I just didn't get. Listened again. And again. And, then, those melodies... wait, is he really talking to KT Tunstall the whole time? Wow, he is pouring it all out there, isn't he? And, before I know it, I'm singing along with 'She' like it's a song I wrote. I said it when I first got hold of the album and I'll say it again here: Magpie was the crowd pleaser, this is the stereotypically 'difficult' second album that hides its melodies behind a mask of earnest vocal performances and willfully difficult subject matter. But the tunes are fantastic and very resonating, evoking an even more riled up Blood On the Tracks-era Bob Dylan, filtered through a distinct Manchester-via-Scunthorpe point of view. Yep, it's safe to say at this point: this is the better of Stephen Fretwell's (so far) two albums. Deep and soul-warming, in an admittedly gloomy way. Love it.

PJ Harvey — White Chalk

Well, at least Man on the Roof wasn't as bleak as this album. But, make no mistakes, I thought it was PJ's best since Is This Desire? It was just very down and very dark, that's all. I still very vividly recall her playing an amazing version of 'Grow Grow Grow' on Jay Leno at the time and thinking how out of place it seemed. She toured very sparingly for this new, piano-heavy material and, for us in America, it seemed like maybe she had all but forgotten the album just a few months after its release. But I still listen to it often. It's not a happy album, even by the most strained of definitions, but I do like it quite a bit regardless. It seems like one of those albums that will be forgotten about in the larger picture of her catalogue, twenty years down the line, but the tunes really are great, in a dark way. It does seem like a bit of autobiography being not so subtly passed off as 'artist speaking in character' narrative. The more I listen, the more I like it. But, as she might say, 'nobody's listening.'

Bobby Hutcherson — For Sentimental Reasons

An all ballads album that betrayed his live repertoire at the time, it was still excellent music because it was essentially a master practicing his craft. His competence at playing ballads was well-established before this album, but the gap between studio records made this satisfying as hell because it was all heart. Really getting into gear on the second half, he tackled mostly standards and made them shine in an intimate quartet setting. Add Geri Allen on piano and the whole thing was just pure class and just emitted endless good vibes (pun recognized, but not intended). I love this album. I love Bobby Hutcherson.

Timo Lassy — The Soul and Jazz of Timo Lassy

From the second I heard this album, I've said the same thing over and over: he sounds like Cannonball, but on tenor. It was most obvious on the samba/funk/soul/jazz cut 'Sweet Spot' — highly rhythmic music that genuinely recalls days passed. Soul and funk oozing from this dude who is undeniably technical. Man, such great stuff. 'African Rumble' was not a surprise because I knew it from a Schema records sampler earlier in the year, but its impact was not muffled here as the album's last track. If there were ever any doubts that soul jazz was not alive and well in the twenty first century, look no further than this album. It truly sounds not of its time — and I mean that as the highest of compliments.

Grachan Moncur III — Inner Cry Blues

It should be well-established by this point that new albums by past masters are a shoe-in for mentions. Inner Cry Blues is no exception, but it sticks out because it was Moncur's first proper album in over two decades. It was firmly routed in post-bop and, considering his classic out-looking Blue Note albums, staunchly conservative. But listen to the album twice and you'll hear the nuances in the tunes reveal themselves and then it will hit you: this is a deeply spiritual affair. Not spiritual in the CCM sense, but more so in the Charles Mingus sense. Then ten minute long title track, for instance, recalls the most emotional of searching 1960's post-bop somewhat-ballads in the most sincere of ways. For an artist as associated with the free jazz and 'new thing' scene as Moncur is, Inner Cry Blues was a stunningly conventional update for a musician that, at this point, had nothing to prove. Refreshing and consistent are two words that come to mind. The guy was already an established legend years before this was released, so he was basically just having fun. And, for such a fun album, it's mighty heavy. But, on the other hand, for such a heavy album, it sure does satisfy and have a little fun every now and then.

Thurston Moore — Trees Outside the Academy

If there were ever any indications in the past that Neil Young had been a big influence over Thurston Moore, they were perhaps a bit obscured. Until this album, that is. But, as Thurston was playing incredibly tuneful, acoustic guitar driven songs, it never felt like a ripoff, but a really logical extension. As the emphasis on electric guitars was toned down and a good portion of the album was accented by a live string quartet, the album was (perhaps inherently) pretty; especially for a Thurston Moore record. Guest spots from Steve Shelley and J Mascis cemented it as one of the year's best and the happy outlook of the material makes for one of the most unlikely feel good albums I can think of. Pure awesome, but with such low-key presentation that you may not realize you're hearing some of his best material ever. THERE.

Radiohead — In Rainbows

There was a strange feeling in the air. They had been playing new material on the road for years, but there was absolutely no chance of a new record because they were not currently signed to a record contract. But then, all of a sudden, damn a record contract and damn the idea of a record sale. Want to pay nothing for a new Radiohead album? Go ahead, pay nothing. It's a kickass new album by one of the most interesting bands of all time, but yeah, go ahead, pay the less than a dollar credit card fee and nothing else. Why? Because Thom Yorke loves your cheap ass. As if the hype surrounding the album weren't enough, the actual music was a stunning synthesis of OK Computer's poppiest moments and the electronica-obsessed layers of Amnesiac. Arguably the most listenable of all Radiohead's albums, it had two mammoth highlights that are just about up there with anybody's best: 'Weird Fishes/Arpeggi' was the sort of guitar-effects heavy, super layered, post-shoegaze mini-epic that seems to be quintessential Radiohead by this point; while 'Reckoner' was like the future in real time. There was a bonus disc and it had some stunners, too. Overall, an understated and humble masterpiece that is quite possibly the most Radiohead-esque album to date. Satisfying as hell and proof that Radiohead probably isn't as overrated as their critical praise makes them seem.

The Sea and Cake — Everybody

It was their longest ever album to album break between this and One Bedroom, so there was a sense of a triumphant return and the mandatory anticipation leading up to this album was pretty thick for yours truly. When 'Crossing Line' was the pre-album teaser song, I just kind of blacked out. Sorry to get kind of personal here, but I remember it kinda felt like my first orgasm all over again. And guess what? The album was a surprisingly lowkey, modest affair that ditched almost all of the electronics and focused back on the straight pleasant dual jangly guitar attack of the band's first two albums. Instances of pedal steel, increased Archer Prewitt harmony vocals and focus away from post-production made this album feel like the band's best set of songs since the Fawn. If nothing else, it was the reassertion of a guitar band getting back to their roots and presenting some no-nonsense, concise material for the first time in roughly a decade. It may not be their best album, but it's easily in a tie for second place. Wonderful stuff. And easily in my picks of the decade.

The Sea and Cake — Anybody EP

If Everybody was the straight modest re-presentation of the Sea and Cake's classic sound, the Anybody EP was another entry in their predictably unpredictable EPs. It started off with 'All in Throws' which they played when I saw the tour (also told Archer I loved him and he winked) and which was one of those songs that was so good that it should've been on the album. The other two tracks, 'Breathless' and 'Mis,' recalled OUI and One Bedroom, respectively and, overall, the iTunes-only release was more than worth three three dollar price tag. As a companion piece to Everybody, it was a little schizophrenic, but 'All in Throws' was so good, it didn't matter. I would love to see a physical release.

Trembling Blue Stars — The Last Holy Writer

"The song on the radio makes you shiver and curl into a ball. It makes you want to be seventeen and forget the future." Even though it wasn't the first song on this album, Beth's 'Idyllwild' is arguably her best song ever and easily the best semi-opening song on a TBS album. And that's a good foreshadow for the rest of this album. I was a little hesitant initially, but now I've no problem calling this the band's best album. In a decade that saw the 'comebacks' of 80's alt-rock gods the Cure and Morrissey, Bob Wratten had none of the of the fireworks that those other records somehow justified, but with Seven Autumn Flowers and this album (and the coinciding EPs), Bob modesty and yet, overwhelmingly made the transition from 80's alt-rocker to 21st century songwriter extraordinaire. And, with his partner Beth Arzy in tow, they were able to make one of those rare late-period albums by a veteran who is just hitting a creative renaissance and rebirth for the second (or third) time. And not to mention, with songs like 'This Once Was An Island' and 'The Coldest Sky', he managed to do the Cure better than they were able to do it themselves (yeah, I said it). It was a bit of a miracle manifested that he wrote 'November Starlings' for this album, as it was not only his best song in several albums, but it was so reminiscent of the Field Mice, I had a hard time initially believing that it wasn't an old demo or something. In a time when reviving 80's rock cliches was the cool thing to do, one of the unsung pioneers of the entire scene came through and showed the kids how it was done with a vintage number. A classic for the ages, if you ask me. Oh yeah, it's also got 'The Tenth of Always' (with the epic uplift of a lyric: "If you think you've gone too far, just keep going") and an eight minute masterpiece dedicated to Oscar Wilde at the end. Absolutely a top album. Disappointingly, but in an expectedly dramatic fashion, Bob swore off live performances leading up this album. I guess, with records this good, he figured, 'Why bother?'

Trembling Blue Stars — Exploring the Shadows Extended Play

Beth fired another winner right away on this EP with 'Beautiful Blank,' a wonderfully catchy power-popper that you would swear should be a huge hit. The rest of the EP's other three songs were Bob's and while 'As Easy As Being Alone' was another terrific uber-pop jangle gem, the other half of the disc was quite dark and isolated. The contrast between sides 1 and 2 was immediately apparent, just like the contrast between jumpy and downtrodden was on Last Holy Writer. Because the EP followed the full length by just a matter of weeks, it was hard not to see it as an extension of the album. And, in that respect, it just made a great thing even better.

Windomoto — The Travels of Windimoto

I should preface this by saying that I am not really sure of the validity of my inclusion of this disc on my list because I am quite biased. I've traded conversations for years with both members of Windimoto on the Okayplayer.com message boards and I would have never even checked out the album were it not for my personal connection with the band members. That being said, I'm far from a dance music expert, but I do know that this music, while certainly being dance-focused, has a strong sense of melody and songcraft in it (perhaps, in comparison to its peers and my disinterest in them for the most part). 'Don't Let Me Leave Alone' and 'A Place For Us' are just great songs, no matter which set of ears you're hearing them with. The instrumentals showed a continued dedication to more than just a nice groove and actually had developed themes that went somewhere. The remixes were, in some cases, better than the originals and overall, I found myself enjoying the hell out of it as music for music's sake. There's something to be said about a distinctly genre-specific album like this that can have that sort of effect on an admittedly novice listener.

~Austin