Thesis
I made it. The first semester is over, and I'm inching closer and closer to the halfway point of my undergrad career. Terrifying. Sort of like the Physics exam I took yesterday. We were ordered to strip and leave our belongings behind us upon entering the lecture hall, a sort of preliminary freakout to ensure maximum disorientation before taking the test itself. Anyway, it's over now, and all I have to look forward to (besides visiting my lovely girlfriend, hanging out with my best friends, and getting the most out of my only monthly bill - Netflix) is BLOGGING.
Bonus Awards
Here are some more music-related awards to get you through the cold winter:
Best Leak
> Kaputt - Destroyer
Runner-up: Public Strain - Women (leaked nearly four months early, fam)
Most Anticipated Album Of 2011
> The One... Cohesive - G-Side
Runner-up: Tomboy - Panda Bear
Best Single Featuring A Smith
> "Whip My Hair" - Willow Smith
Runner-up: "Never Say Never" - Justin Bieber (featuring Jaden Smith)
That's enough minor stuff. So, without further ado,
Top 25 Albums Of 2010 (20-11)
20| Tomorrow, In A Year - The Knife (In Collaboration With Mt. Sims And Planningtorock)
But who said the growth of life itself was going to be an easy listen? This is an album that mourns "sad footprints" and makes the listener feel the passage of millennia. The "hook" on one song is sustained screeching. It's about Charles Darwin, y'all.
All of this from the band that brought us Silent Shout, the most universally embraced record of 2006. Unfortunately for The Knife, no one is embracing this record (except for me!). They're kinda putting one arm over its shoulder and giving a half smile, "Hey, how's your older brother doing? Good! Let me know if he's ever in town. See ya!" Doesn't anyone care about this poor, semi-biographical-experimental-noise-opera? There's ample reason to. For one, the ambient passages (really the entirety of the first disc - yeah, it's a double album) work so well to create a cohesive whole. It just requires patience to feel its importance. Every moment matters. I'm not going to call this opera daring because our generation is a cartoon of instant gratification. I'm going to call it daring because it shortchanges the listener all of the pounding and immediate joys of a Knife record, and instead crafts an entirely new sort of experience.
And that's what to love here. This is an album unlike any other this year, one of visually evocative soundscapes and huge ambition. The second disc is full of gut-wrenching poetry wrung from Darwin's diary and the beauty of nature itself. The title track's emotional climax is well-worth the more than 70-minute wait (and if that wait includes "Colouring Of Pigeons," who can complain?). Closer "The Height Of Summer" is both the satisfying conclusion to the record's emotional arc, and a reward in its delivery of a gripping, progressive pop song. The sweet result of an hour and twenty minutes' worth of dynamic musical evolution - it all makes sense. Naturally. This album earns its length, and is one of the most rewarding listens of the year if you're willing to experience it on its own terms.
And now for something that completely different. Something that instantly gratifies (GIMME MORE). But this album is also exhausting. This album wears you out with its monster physicality and tasty overdrive.
Mmm, Treats. That's right, this stuff is tasty. Sugar-coated, bubblegum, saccharine, gimmicky, shallow - whatever, it's pop music. Pop music with machine guns! It's this year's Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, not only in the sense that it's being used to advertise cars, but also in its infectious and universal qualities. It embraces all of the drama and simple joys of high school - a sort of ode to youth - and it captures this whirlwind adolescence with a sweet, pleasurable, but hard-hitting kinetic energy. Because even in the sparkling, lovelorn slow jam of "Rill Rill," there's a bumping bass that reminds your body how to move like it's homecoming (I feel like an eighty-year old writing about the good old days).
It'd take a hater not to dance to this stuff. "Infinity Guitars" and "Crown On The Ground" are like, hella primal. I'm not going to get into the aesthetics of this album, how it's making noise attractive (because to me, nothing's as sexy as noise), and will instead say: Listen to how fun this is! There are huge guitars and handclaps all over the place. Bass that bangs like "A Milli." Hit the dance floor; youth is a treat.
18| Pigeons - Here We Go Magic
What a weird way to follow up their cool, 2008 debut. I don't think this album is very cool. Like, at all. It's very easy-going, has a sense of humor (right?), and incorporates some odd elements. Opener "Hibernation" feels like an over-the-top goofy fun house take on the first record's sound. It's bouncy, with twinkling keys and dumb synths buzzing around lyrics about aging and conformity.
This album might have been awful, but it seems to know exactly what it is. A blend of the carnivalesque and the totally mainstream. There are some totally satisfying gems to be found here - "Collector" is some of the smartest indie-pop-rock all year, with the same whispering rush of "Tunnelvision" and the joys of a competent and shiny full band. Singer-songwriter/founder Luke Temple still demonstrates a knack for crafting catchy and unique takes on the old singer-songwriter thing. "Land Of Feeling" is sweeping, cinematic pop-rock at its finest. No longer dressed in lo-fi ambiance, the songs here sound fully-realized and assured.
There's something conversational, approachable about the record. The missteps are enjoyable, and the successes are standout. The band isn't aiming for greatness, but created something great. It's this humanity in Pigeons that elevates it to the cream of the crop, even making it sound classic from time to time. And why not? All great records have inconsistencies, and the ones here are easy to overlook - because they still sound fun.
17| High Violet - The National
These guys are no fun. They've been doing this for a while, and they still sound brooding and sad (not Menomena sad, but like, grown-up sad), and they still sound really good. This is a "mature" record, I guess. Whatever, everyone said that about Boxer too. Being mature kinda comes with The National's territory. Take a walk in the dark with High Violet and you'll feel like the martyred protagonist of your very own indie drama. That sounds awful, actually.
The album doesn't. I promise. It's actually amazing - because for all the head-hanging seriousness of the album ("Little Faith," "Lemonworld," "Anyone's Ghost"), there's a lot of fist-pumping triumph too. That one-two punch of "Afraid Of Everyone" and "Bloodbuzz Ohio" is something special; the former a stuttering anthem for dissatisfaction and the latter a purely classic and clever ode to adult responsibilities. The hearts of these songs must weigh tons. "England," oh man, is Their Song.
Mature doesn't mean boring here. It means well-made and wise and balanced (sadness with humor, gloom with prettiness). So, even though the whole record is tinged with sadness, it's a beautiful sort of thing.
16| Thank Me Later - Drake
There's some special kind of honesty about Drake, that allows him to rap about his sadness and insecurities as a self-made millionaire. Stuff that audiences just don't care about unless you're on a Kanye-level. But why shouldn't he be allowed to rap about missing the simple life of a college student or the joys of being with a girl he can trust? Opener "Fireworks" is smart about all of this, introducing the main themes of the album, musical and lyrical, and showcases all of the strengths and flaws therein. It's gonna be whiny, but it's gonna sound real. There's a cold and consistent mood permeating the beats of the album, which range from banging to eerily hollow and metallic.
It must be said, homeboy has a great voice. That he's singing his own hooks on several of these songs makes this album that much more his own, and adds to its cohesiveness. One of Thank Me Later's greatest strengths is that cohesiveness. Much has been made of the album's sequencing, which is key. Talk about a mature album. Each track depends on the others for maximum effect, flowing from high to low, club-ready to secluded. The kind of balance that puts the bounding "Fancy" next to the eternal slowness of "Shut It Down" and makes it make sense. The other, equally important balance that Drake strikes is between his somewhat unconvincing bravado and his self-loathing. The personal truths Drake include here are despicable and human - calling some chick from the mall rather than calling his grandma, not trusting any females because of his fame, trying to come to terms with haters - it's subject matter that wouldn't draw sympathy if Drake didn't present it so earnestly.
Of course, rapping (and often singing) about this stuff has attracted many Drake haters. But self-described as both Drizzy and "young and unlucky," it's hard not to feel for the guy. Especially when his pathetic honesty fuels such great music.
15| Before Today - Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti
Say it with me: This album is so Hip! The rise of the cult outsider to the ranks of the mainstream! Like, a perfect pastiche of radio tropes and blissed-out genres! "Round And Round"! That's what I'm talking about.
Before Today successfully reassigns cheese as emotion. The spoken word, the over-the-top synths, the shamelessly retro melodies - they not only come off as genuine, but modern too. That in itself is an accomplishment. The entire album has elements that are familiar, a given when experimenting with all sorts of different eras and genres, but the familiarity isn't distracting. Ariel puts a hella intelligent twist on each of these experiments, making them all his own.
The songs tell weird stories, incorporate different cliches to counteract one another, and are always engaging. "L'estat (acc. to the widow's maid)" houses both the most goofy moment of the year and one of its most transcendent finales. These are the sorts of contradictions and delights all over the record. The hooks are undeniable. This album has an ear for the accessible. And it has a way of sticking around. This is a Classic.
This is a brilliant musician taking a step in the right direction. The album already sounds timeless, even reminds me a lot of Neil Young's (best work) On The Beach. It's sprawling, dark, and ready to deal with its despair through experimentation. It's a definite departure from the fuzz and mania of Microcastle, but no less successful. Witness the appropriation of Atlas Sound's plodding acoustics and electronics into Deerhunter: the creation of a New Sound.
It certainly feels like new sound, or at least a fully-developed sound. The logical continuation of Deerhunter's progression. The two soaring anthems from Lockett Pundt act as a great counterpoint to Bradford Cox's more dirge-like songs. There's heartbreak in this album, "Helicopter" cataloging one hella tragic story and "He Would Have Laughed" mourning the loss of Jay Reatard. All of this treated with respect and executed with admirable artistry. The guitar work on this album is patient and charged, capturing sadness and providing catharsis with equal measure. And the saxophone! Saxophones are never a bad thing.
And despite its greatness, Halcyon Digest isn't even close to the year's best portrayal of sorrow.
13| Mines - Menomena
Do you like being sad? Neither do Menomena. But boy, do they ever wear their sadness well.
Crafted from the usual Frankenstein (Deeler) software as their other records, Mines nonetheless feels like Menomena's most human release. And their most tragic. Apparently the band was on the verge of breakup throughout the recording of the album. Whether that is the sole reason for the tension manifest in the album or not, there's a real trouble stirring beneath all of these songs. In Menomena fashion, the album is self-deprecating and self-sucker-punching - but this is the first time that they seem hurt by their own mocking.
Biting, dead serious, hysterical, and depressing, Mines is their masterwork. It's full of homesickness and heartbreak, open wounds and all that drama. It can hit some soaring, Big Song cliche-levels of sad ("Dirty Cartoons"), intricate and shaking classic-levels of sad ("Queen Black Acid"), and dissolving, horror-levels of sad ("INTIL" - I think a pun on the word "until" and the song's recurring "I never thought I'd lie").
The escapes from sad on this record are few and far between, and usually lead to mad and tired. "BOTE" is aggressive and loud - hurtling itself at a violent climax of horns and searing guitars. The drums are downright ferocious. "Sleeping Beauty" is the most triumphant song on the album, but seems to be an attack on a lying ex. Jeez. For all the crashing cymbals, chugging basslines, and buzzing keyboards, this band sounds defeated. But at least on this album they sound in control of their defeat.
12| The ArchAndroid - Janelle Monae
If Ariel Pink has mastered the balance of genre-hopping, Janelle Monae simply Owns Every Genre (and even Kevin Barnes? Let's ignore that). This thing would be easy to write off as pretentious and bloated if it weren't so dang good. Imagine 70 minutes of lushly arranged and produced future-pop that doesn't stay still for a moment. This album just sounds ideal. Each song flows directly into the next one, each song contains its own heart-stopping Moment, each song is Great.
It's pointless to discuss specifics - which perfect pop song do you want to hear about? "Wondaland" momentarily exchanges its fun, bubbling beat for alleluias, "Oh, Maker" is gorgeous R&B balladry crossed with 60s acoustic love songs and writ huge in Monae's voice, "Cold War" is a self-empowering anthem made for dancing, "Say You'll Go" is the most majestic song you'll ever encounter, etc, etc. The ArchAndroid is every song and every artist, it is music for every human being. Almost overwhelming in its scope and appeal. Almost too much.
Almost.
11| Down There - Avey Tare
You want large-scale scope? You want appeal? This album has neither! This is small, intimate, alienating music made by a grieving genius. It's a challenging work. Dave Portner's debut full-length comes in the wake of three years of near-constant touring, the death of his grandmother, his sister's cancer, and his separation from Kria Brekkan. This thing is understandably dense, containing all the regret and acceptance of a few hard years. It's erringly personal, his take on the descent into a sort of swampy hell. He sings of "getting lost in the big sound" and his goodness being forgotten. It'd be a breakup record if it weren't also about breaking up with himself.
"Laughing Hieroglyphic" is all off-kilter rhythms and shaking vocals, including some of the most unhinged and passionate singing from Avey since Strawberry Jam. Follow that up with a charming ode to the friendship of the other three members of Animal Collective, a totally strange Michael Jacksonesque dance single, and an ambient boat ride - you got a stew cookin'! It's an album unafraid to explore different textures and approaches to essentially the same subject matter - the importance of losing and maintaining intense personal relationships. In doing this, the words stay vital and the music stays interesting.
Down There flows like an album's album, a self-contained journey, while striking memorable and honest emotional notes along the way. The vocals are often contorted and enveloped by noise, the murky atmosphere of the album beautifully constructed by fellow AnC0 br0 Deakin. Escaping from this hell of a sound is the hope in Avey's words and voice that sadness can be overcome. You get the feeling that this is Avey exorcising his demons, like he needed this album. In sharing it, he's created a relatable and arresting expression of healing.
In the year without Panda, Avey is king.
Conclusions
GOSH OMG OMG ITS ALL MOST THE TOP 10 (hold yr breath readers this is gonna be Big)
For more #METASWAG fun, check out the rest of The Year In Review:
Part 1: Live Music
Part 2: Songs
Part 3: Albums (Bonus & 25-21)
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