THE USUAL SUSPECTS
Let me start by saying that I've decided to never utter "This year was a disappointment," in regards to music, ever again. Not that this year (or any other year) was not rife with musical disappointments but, as I get older, that phrase just sounds whiny. Life might as well be a disappointment if I can no longer find things right in it. Since I choose not to see the world only as a grand failure (or at least the human part of it), I must simply accept the changes of middle age and move onward and upward.
This year had an interesting mix: some oldies put out solid but underwhelming products; some newbies rocked into heavy rotation. Casting a backward glance at past year end lists, I see patterns. Eric Bachmann (whether alone or as Crooked Fingers), The Decemberists, Tom Waits, and others have made my lists multiple years in a row. Hell, Crooked Fingers took top honors twice. And what about Ben Gibbard? He made the same list twice (Death Cab and Postal Service).
None of these artists are on this year's list. And while there are some repeat placers (Band of Horses, Wilco, Modest Mouse), top honors and big surprises go to new artists.
REITERATION OF THE PROCESS
This list is by no means a complete list—at least as true music critics and/or fanatics would have it. I cannot keep up with the sheer output of the world's artists. The best I can do is wait around for the usual suspects to put out new things, and lurk on Pitchfork, skimming reviews for highly rated albums and give some of them a try. In this respect, emusic.com needs to take some credit for my listening habits (and choices): If something new pops up on Pitchfork, and emusic has it, I will listen and download. Two of this year's top ten finishers came to me this way.
Other almost-rans (honorable mentions) might have made the top ten had they not gotten lost in the volume of downloads. Here again, my age shows. I can't get to it all—even the ones that I choose to download. I have my emusic subscription (65 downloads a month) and I can't keep up! Oh well.
So, with this in mind, I set forth the usual criteria: The albums on this list are ones that stuck. I either wore them out in the car, or I shuffled through them on the computer at work. All of the albums have tracks that made it to mixes.
And, like previous years, the albums that seemed to not only have kept my attention, but helped define the year as a whole, placed highest. In fact, if you were to chop all the other useless nonsense here (especially my long-winded prose), take the top three albums on my list and you've got an accurate summation of 2007.
Get on with it…
10. Interpol – Our Love To Admire
I'll admit, I don't particularly care for Interpol. I borrowed my good friend Brian Candler's copy of Turn On The Bright Lights and couldn't get into it. Yeah, it's good. But I don't own it—and probably never will. When Antics came out, I bought it. I listened to it. I kind of liked it. I think I even included it in my mentions (or did it make the top ten?! I can't remember!) for that year. And, like several of the other artists on this list, I caught them performing on Letterman. They were not good. I don't think I even made it through the entire performance before stopping the DVR.
When Our Love To Admire came out, I didn't rush to purchase it. In fact, when I did buy it, I did so because I just felt like buying something (o you American fool!). For all the "one-trick-ponyness" of this band, I really like this album. There is a quality on this one that I think the others lack: maturity.
As a happily married man, I have serious problems with the lyrics of "No I In Threesome." But it is my absolute favorite track on the album. And, interestingly enough, I find the best tracks on this album ("Pioneer To The Falls") are thematically reminiscent of the overall tone of Neon Bible. There's a sadness here…
9. Spoon – Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Why isn't this higher? Why am I just now listening to Spoon? When it comes to "discovering" new music, one has to either spend considerable energies tracking down everything all the time, or one simply accepts that some things will go unlistened, undiscovered.
Luckily, I caught Spoon on Letterman. They performed "Underdog" and I was immediately hooked. I went out the next day (well, maybe not) and bought the disc. The strength of Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is found in "Don't Make Me a Target," "You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb," and "Underdog." It would be higher on the list, though, if for a few tracks that disrupt the overall package: "The Ghost of You Lingers" deflates the tense energy drummed up by "Don't Make Me a Target." The same could be said for "My Little Japanese Cigarette Case." There again, the album is buoyed back up when one considers the strength of all the lyrics. "Target" and "Underdog" are both in the running for best damn song of the year.
8. The Shins – Wincing The Night Away
Earlier this year, I woke up at two a.m. to the sound of knocking. Looking out of our second story windows, I saw a convertible Sebring crumpled up against my poor little Civic. This incident marks my relationship with Wincing The Night Away. I know this because I spent the weeks following the accident driving a brand new Dodge Charger (oh, how I loved that car… against my better judgment, of course!). The only cd that I had in the Charger for the two weeks I drove it was Wincing The Night Away.
Now, let me add that my "memory" (or recounting of it) is a bit fuzzy. I'd had the album for almost a month before the Charger entered the picture. I'd listened to it a few times and was less than enamored of it. It also didn't help that the cd wound up in my wife's car.
The result? Where I had, for the most part, moved on, dismissed it, Mandy had been slowly falling in love with it. When I realized this, I wanted it back. Enter the Charger. And so, Wincing The Night Away fits some of the crucial criteria: It represents a piece of 2007. It spent a good bit of time in heavy rotation. And it is, more or less, a solid album.
It doesn't, however, place higher on the list because it's not Oh, Inverted World. That sounds bad, especially since Chutes Too Narrow falls between the two. But I have to say, I love The Shins. I've seen them live twice and they did not disappoint. And yet… what is clearly good music has a habit of not sticking. That is, I would liken both Chutes and Wincing to a good sugar rush. In the moment, they're exactly what I crave but, a few hours later, I've forgotten about the rush and find myself snacking on something else.
"Sleeping Lessons," "Australia," and "Phantom Limb" are, regardless of my not-so-kind words most excellent songs. Yeah, it's a good album.
7. Andrew Bird – Armchair Apocrypha
Okay, this one's higher on the list than maybe it deserves (based on my criteria). I usually include one like it every year: A great album that I didn't really listen to as much as some of the others. What can I say? Despite the failings of old standby's (Wilco and The Shins), I listened to them more than I did this little gem.
"Fiery Crash" made it on to almost every mix I made this year. "Scythian Empires" is a morsel of orchestrated beauty. And, come on, the last track merits mentioning by title alone: "Yawn at the Apocalypse." All in all, this is a solid, cohesive album. And, I have to admit that Armchair makes the top ten because of my egregious overlooking of Micah P. Hinson's Micah P. Hinson and the Opera Circuit last year.
6. Iron & Wine – The Shepherd's Dog
Brian has been (not so) subtly pushing Iron & Wine on me for years. I downloaded the Woman King – Ep because of Brian. I purchased the Calexico and Iron & Wine Ep, In The Reins, because of Brian. I downloaded "The Trapeze Artist" at Brian's urging.
But…
No one can dispute the artistry of Sam Beam's music. Like Sufjan Stevens, he's carefully crafted a unique sound and he's dogmatically stuck by it. It might be that devotion that's kept Iron & Wine out of my top ten (until now).
There. Do you hear it? There's an armchair critic shouting from the bleachers "It all sounds the same!" And it does. But is that a bad thing? There is no doubt in my mind that an Iron & Wine song should be included on any and all mixes.
But can that sound be sustained for an entire album without straining one's patience? The answer for me now is, yes. The Shepherd's Dog is brilliant. On this album, if one listens closely, one can hear a multitude of subtle textures and finally realize, no, it does not all sound the same. Beam's voice and the hushed mixing of his songs disguise—for the initiate—a wealth of beauty beneath.
In the face of this estimation, why isn't this album higher on the list? Well, here again, like Sufjan, one can only take so much. Driving back from D.C. several weeks ago, I was starting to fade. I couldn't find the right thing to listen to to keep me awake. I popped Shepherd's Dog into the player, but after one song, I had to move to something else (that something else wound up being my number one pick for this year…). In this way, I will liken Shepherd's Dog to a Jim Jarmusch film. You've got to be fully awake and fully attentive to really appreciate it.
5. Wilco – Sky Blue Sky
In my head note, I mentioned the idea that most of my lists for the past five years have been collections of the same artists, their positions only slightly shuffled. There's something to be said about a band (or artist) that can consistently produce worthwhile music. One hit wonders are fine for blips and bops; give me a band that I can grow old with. Wilco is one of those. I will buy anything they put out. As such, everything they put out is good. Music critics (and even a significant portion of Wilco fans) will be quick to point out that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot represents the pinnacle, that everything since has been consistent but not necessarily genius. Take this excerpt from Rob Mitchum's review of Sky Blue Sky, for instance, "An album of unapologetic straightforwardness, Sky Blue Sky nakedly exposes the dad-rock gene Wilco has always carried but courageously attempted to disguise. Never has the band sounded more passive, from the direct and domestic nature of Tweedy's lyrics, to the soft-rock-plus-solos format (already hinted at on Ghost's "At Least That's What You Said" and "Hell Is Chrome") that most of its songs adhere to."
But… in a year where some of the best music was not so straightforward, the "dad-rock" of Sky Blue Sky was comforting. Yeah, many of the tracks descend into guitar masturbation, but masturbation isn't always a bad thing… I guess I'm at "dad" age and so I like this album. I will add that I liked it immediately (even as I noted its flaws) and, as such, stepped away from it pretty quickly. Coming back to it (even before I started thinking about my list), I remembered how instantly likable it is. This is not to say that it gets better with age (theme of the list this year: age), but that it is something worth coming back to.
4. Modest Mouse – We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank
Like Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, this album would be higher on the list if not for its flaws. Unlike Spoon, though, those "flaws" could be with me and not the album. Bottom line: I’m an old fart who can't sustain—er, for the entire album. The sequencing is spot on. It comes on strong. The first track is reminiscent of the carnivalesque that so intrigued me on Good News. The lead in energy of "March Into The Sea" is ramped up with "Dashboard." Think of a car approaching the red line—when that pedal goes down even further, you cross over the line. Scary and exhilarating.
One cannot sustain that kind of energy for long, so "Fire It Up" pulls us back down. Then we're back up again. Then down again. And then… the best song of the year: "Missed the Boat." Where Neon Bible stretches the collective mood of the world over an entire album (more on that further up the list), this song brilliantly sums up the current state of the union. There's even that subtle push of James Mercer singing backup on the chorus. There are several classic Isaac Brock moments ("that good God dam"; "shake shake shake") and in the end we feel better, even though we've "truly missed the boat."
And then… What can I say? At track six I've gotten everything out of the album I need. The strengths of the best tracks on this album strangle out the others.
Or I'm just too damn old to keep listening…
THE TOP THREE
In many respects, the top three albums on my list have nothing in common. The lullaby gone wrong darkness of Neon Bible is the antithesis of the sweet ditties that populate Cease To Begin. The southern-tinged rock of Cease to Begin is geographically removed from the almost (and I use this reference sparingly) eighties pop gloss of The Boxer.
3. Band of Horses – Cease To Begin
When "Is There A Ghost" showed up on Band of Horses's Myspace page, I added it to my profile. Yeah, it's good. And, echoing back to Wilco, Band of Horses is good for what ails this old man.
That's a substantial part of what this album means to me: For all the other music and mayhem in my life, Band of Horses is a solid bit of nostalgia. Their tunes are reminiscent of the good, honest rock and roll of my youth. Where Wilco's masturbatory guitar work is pleasing to my ears, Band of Horses reminds me of why the electric guitar is quite possibly the greatest of all human inventions.
Band of Horses strips all irony from the phrase, "Rock on, dude."
And that's not all. There's a sweetness to Cease To Begin that's missing from the two other albums in my top three. "No One's Gonna Love You" is an honest love song that manages to transcend indie rock irony to a place of pure authenticity.
My only real complaint is one of gentle passing: I would have liked a few more rockers. The crescendo of "Is There A Ghost" starts the album off nicely, and that build pays off in "Ode to LRC," my absolute favorite track from the album. In fact, the line "The world is such a wonderful place," when delivered, is the one of the most authentic affirmations of existence I've heard in a good long while. It's an interesting counterpoint to the gloom of Neon Bible (more on that below).
"No One's Gonna Love You" turns it down nicely. From there, though, the album only really turns back up for "Islands On The Coast." "The General Specific" has a nice rollicking gate, but it doesn't rock. "Cigarettes, Wedding Bands" rocks, but lacks the energy of "Ode to LRC" and "Is There A Ghost."
In the end, though, Cease To Begin clearly belongs in the top three.
2. Arcade Fire – Neon Bible
When this album came out earlier this year, I had immediate mixed feelings. I was excited and looking forward to its release. There was a cloud of mystery and intrigue. Websites were put up. Myspace pages had leaked songs under fake band names. Arcade Fire tested the waters, using a Web 2.0 strategy to shape and mould its newest release.
New release? Funeral was released in 2004. Neon Bible, then, was three years in gestating, or at least there was a pause, a build up, maybe even a strategy.
Then it was here. I ordered it through Amazon.com and got the limited edition with all the extra junk. (At present, because the cd itself is in a non-descript plastic sleeve, I can't find it.)
I popped the disc in and… disco.
No, wait a minute.
"Black Mirror" opens the album and sets an ominous tone. The mix is a kind of sonic storm cloud swirl. Win Butler's voice slips in with lyrics to reflect the tone: "I walked down to the ocean / after waking from a nightmare / no moon no pale reflection…" The song builds ever so slightly to the first chorus, ever swirling, ever winding up until shots ring out—in French—and then cue strings.
Then we cut to "Keep the Car Running," an up-tempo, guitar and mandolin fronted swing. The tone is carried forward by the lyrics, but the airy arrangement contrasts in a compelling way. Much like other songs mentioned on this list, this one has made many mixes—especially the ones I've designed for running (har)!
With these first two tracks, the album's overall effect is established. Good songs that you might find on pop radio (if not for their biting lyrics) mixed with tonal oddities and darker instrumentation.
Earlier, I mentioned being disappointed by Interpol's performance on Letterman. Well, I was fortunate to catch (in high definition, no less) Arcade Fire's Austin City Limits performance. Every shaking bit of that performance is a revelation. What these guys (and girls) are doing is not only unique but enlightening. Hard working evangelists. Every bit of that Austin City Limits performance smacks of church revival. This poor soul has been saved.
Highlights from the album: The organ driven "Intervention." The heartbreaking gallop of "(Antichrist Television Blues)."
In the end, it may not be the best album of the year, but it resonates with (or actually sets) the tone of the year. We are on the cusp of apocalypse and the Arcade Fire will march us right into it, hurdy-gurdy and all…
1. The National – The Boxer
Okay, to steal a phrase from Pitchfork, this one's a "grower." I'd read about it. I'd listened to bits on emusic and decided to give it a try. And, at first, it looked like this album was going to go the way of so many of my other emusic downloads.
Then something magical happened. I found myself running bits of "Fake Empire" over and over again in my head. I went back to the album and fell in love. Of all the albums on my list this year, this one probably got the most play. It was there for me as I navigated the wedding season ("Apartment Story"'s "I getting tied / I'm forgetting why" a connecting line). It was there for me when I was driving back from Asheville with a horrible hangover after seeing The Smashing Pumpkins (thanks, Brian).
In many ways, The Boxer filled the Eric Bachmann void for me this year. Not sure that connection holds water (lyrics and vocals), but when I needed something that was not satisfied by the darkness of Neon Bible, or the honesty of Cease To Begin, I turned to The Boxer.
The rhythm section is out front, driving most of the tracks with an urgency ("Brainy"). I mentioned earlier that the album has an "eighties" quality. This could be a result of the fact that the album doesn't rely on guitar (what was I just saying about guitar?!), but on a kind of polished, almost synth-flecked tone. Don't mistake me. Rather, I might suggest that The Boxer encapsulates all the best qualities of eighties music and repackages them with a new-millennium sensibility. In the cracks, I hear the best qualities of The Cure and U2.
Anyway, where many of the albums on this list have a stellar track or two, this album rarely hits a sour note. At the top, though, are "Fake Empire," "Squalor Victoria," "Slow Show," and "Apartment Story."
Yeah, this is number one for the year.
Honorable Mentions and Other Awards
The "Mandy Gets Credit For This One" Award
Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova – Once (Music from the Motion Picture)
Okay, let me fess up about this one. I had it in my top ten. Number six, to be exact. However, in chiseling down my list, I was one album over the even ten. The more I thought about it, the more I figured I could pull this one out of the top ten and give it its own category, its own mention. The wife may still kill me for not putting it in the top ten…
Hands down, this is a great album.
It's a complete package (a little sweetness, a little bitterness, a little house party acoustic jam, a little electronica), and it has that "albumness" that is so hard to find in this our single-download-driven ipodia.
But it is, afterall, a soundtrack. Its existence is tied to the film. It also contains songs that were previously released (in slightly different versions) on last year's The Swell Season. In the end, if you question my sincerity (and reasoning), then check out my review of the show Mandy and I saw in D.C. (A Swell Show: The Swell Season at the Lincoln Theatre).
Honorable Mentions
Steve Earle – Washington Square Serenade
Check out "City of Immigrants" and "Oxycontin Blues."
Ted Leo & The Pharmicists – Living With The Living
Hardest working man in rock? "Sons of Cain" and "Who Do You Love?" are highlights for me.
That Great Song I didn't Write Award
Feist – "1234"
Man, I saw her perform this song on Letterman and it was great. There in the background, too, was a "who's who" of indie rock (the guys from The National, Mates of State, some of The New Pornographers, to name a few). Went out and bought the album. Eh. Then I come to find out that the catchy tune that brought me to the album was written by someone else. Aw, nuts.
Good But Not Great
Bruce Springsteen – Magic
Bright Eyes - Cassadaga
They Might Be Giants – The Else
Ryan Adams – Easy Tiger
Beirut – The Flying Club Cup
New Pornographers - Challengers
Just Couldn't Get There
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – Some Loud Thunder
I really did try to like this one. But there was something that turned me off. Not sure what it was. Maybe it was the production?
emusic Overlooks
White Rabbits – Fort Nightly
The Broken West – I Can't Go On I'll Go On
Works of Heartbreaking Disappointment
matt pond PA – Last Light
This one really hurt. Pond writes some great tunes, but this one…
Bloc Party – A Weekend In The City
Okay, so maybe I wasn't heartbroken, but I have no idea where this one was coming from. Maybe you have to be British… Or like Brett Easton Ellis…
The Fiery Furnaces Award
Of Montreal – Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?
It never fails. Damn you Pitchfork!
Missed The Boat Completely
Rogue Wave – Asleep At Heaven's Gate
I haven't read all of Brian's comments yet, but I did a quick once-over of his list—just to make sure I didn't forget anything. Lo and behold! I completely missed this one! I remember seeing on the upcoming releases, but… damn, I need to get this one.
Saving for 2008 even though it's downloadable now
Radiohead – In Rainbows
I was going to start this whole thing by saying something like "This should be number one, but I’m going to wait for an 'official' release." I haven't listened to it yet, and as much as I've succumbed to the download, I want this one to be a hard copy purchase. So, look for its appearance next year.
Until then…
