The Best Albums of the 90s: 5-1

5. My Bloody Valentine - Loveless
Both Radiohead and My Bloody Valentine like to hug the top of most 90's lists and here they do with mine. I came to My Bloody Valentine much later, so in that way it still sounds fresh in a way OK Computer just doesn't. I could go on and on about this album, but I've delayed finishing this list for so long, I really shouldn't waste any more time. This album is essentially perfect and in that way it's hard to define. I love distortion. I love pop songs. Enter Loveless.
4. Lucinda Williams - Car wheels on a Gravel Road
In 1998 I found Lucinda with album World Without Tears, which is terribly behind schedule. It's also a bitter, emotional slog. It's kind of funny that I fell for it so hard. Especially considering how spirited and exciting Car Wheels on a Gravel Road is. As far as albums filled with great singles from beginning to end , this one is stocked tight. How country and blues can sound so engaging is hard to understand. Mostly it's her voice that still kills me.
This also represents the exact opposite kind of music I thought I'd be listening to later in my life.
3. Radiohead - OK Computer
What hasn't been said about this album? It exists outside of criticism at this point. But it's not topping this list because I don't really listen to it much anymore. Maybe Hail to the Chief burned me out, Radiohead exist in the past for me now. I'm far from embarrassed of my infatuation with the band, and who knows, I could go into a huge kick next week. But I don't play Radiohead like I play everything else in the top 5. Why it belongs here is because of how it once controlled my life. I know every crevice of this intricate, delicate album. It probably plays through my head subconsciously at least once a day.
I'm just going to say it again. I think Hail to Thief was a mistake. It was the kind of album that made me question the supremacy of Radiohead. If I could just go back to a simpler time when this album and Kid A were all that mattered. Then, just maybe, it'd be topping this list and not just appearing. It's hard to talk bad about this album, especially any piece of plastic with a magnificent song like "Let Down" on it. But this list is all about what I listen to now, and while I can recommend this album completely and openly, you may notice how my itunes hits are low.
2. Rufus Wainwright - Rufus Wainwright
I adore Rufus. This is a complete guess, but I'd be willing to beat my heterosexuality on the fact that I was the only kid in my school that listened to him in 1999. It's just a fact. He didn't play to Indiana sensibilities, nor to anything that I had previously known about myself. Much like there used to be lots of grunge bands on my list and now there are none, Rufus came at a time when I didn't think I needed him. I had no precedent for him. I didn't grow up on Broadway musicals, I don't really like singer-songwriters, and here was a gay Canadian singing some of the most beautiful music I'd ever heard. And for reasons I can't quite explain, I've been listening to him ever since. I never fell out of favor with him, never had to rediscover his back catalog. Maybe it is because I like each one of his subsequent albums (including Release the Stars!), so I've never had a reason for Rufus to be out of my life. Many of the rest of these bands had their peak in the nineties and moved downward from there (Hello Oasis!). But Rufus was just getting started, on this, his debut album.
He has never sounded like this again. It's a sprawling, ambitious album to be sure, but it's nothing compared to the bombast of the Want albums. It almost feels like Rufus unadorned, unworried about contemporary flourishes like he was on Poses, and still not ready to bring down this house on every single freaking song on an album like every other album. It's started by what happens to be my favorite love song, "Foolish Love", and ends with another stunning plea in "Imaginary Love". It careens through cabaret, waltz, and careful ballad after ballad in between.
Though I think Want I is Rufus at his most quintessential, and Poses features his best collection of songs, this is his best pure album.

The Smashing Pumpkins - Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness
I own essentially everything the Smashing Pumpkins have ever put their name on. Main albums not withstanding, I have most of their singles, DVDs and video cassettes. On my computer I have roughly 150 demo versions of songs. I've bought Siamese Dream three times. I have a collection of some 120 tracks of nothing but live banter. And that's on top of the numerous concerts I have in full. It's sad. But when you have a favorite band, you treat them as such and you get your hands on anything you can. And the Smashing Pumpkins are my favorite band because of this album.

In fact, though I have hours upon hours of songs, if it weren't for this little collection (if that's what you can call a 28 song collection), I probably wouldn't care. Why such love? Maybe it was the time in my life (13 years old) when I needed an album like this to get lost in, quite like The Wall that Billy had said he wanted to emulate. But that overlooks the songs on this epic, monstrous album. I can understand how some might not like this album, but it's also one the most impeccably produced album of all time. It's loud, raucous, dangerous and ethereal. Unlike Siamese Dream it sounds like they played all these songs live. And they were able to add some electronic flourishes just underneath to give texture (something they'd lose sight of around Adore). I don't feel like defending it anymore. It's great.

I'll admit I had a devious reason for this list. The Pumpkins are getting ready to release a new album and I'm worried, so so worried, that it's going to the worst album ever made. I have reason. Look at the shitty, depressing titles. Look at the cover. It doesn't have James, probably doesn't have Darcy, and will probably rock really, really hard. But I don't want heavy metal Billy, I want dream pop Billy, the one who screamed over blankets of warm, fuzzy distortion. I, basically, want an album like this one again. But is that right? Should we place such restraints on artists. I was fairly excited when I heard that the pumpkins were reforming. Why shouldn't they? If the album sucks, then I just don't have to listen to it. Lots of great artists have made really bad albums. Most of the bad albums occurred later in their career. This is my way of dealing with something I have no control over. It has sort of worked.

PS - I've heard their first single Tarantula. It rawks like old school Pumpkins. I have hope!

The Best Albums of the 90s: 10-6

10. Yo La Tengo - I Can Hear the Heart Beat as One
If you were to sit down and construct my perfect album, a good place to start would be this one. Pop songs flushed out with mind numbing distortion. That I came to this album some 9 years late only makes me feel sorry that I didn't have it earlier. It's hard to pick my favorite moment, but their cover of the Beach Boys ranks up there. Mostly I just think of that distortion.




9. Oasis - What's the Story Morning Glory
It's passe, not cool, maybe not even correct. Sure Oasis, but this one?

My girlfriend loves this album. My friends do to. Play it at a bar and everyone fucking loves it. I'm not sure how long we have to go on pretending this isn't a great album. Maybe because it's stacked with sappy ballads, Oasis aren't even remotely cool, or the lyrics are shite.

For years I have intensely defended Definitely Maybe as the superior album, considering it both cooler and a more solid collection of songs, and it probably is. But in a straight up times listened to challenge there isn't even a contest. I'm not talking about when I was junior high, but last year. Have you listened to "She's Electric" recently?


8. Primal Scream - Screamadelica
I don't know why I listen to this album. I started listening when I lived in London for a while and every fucking copy of Mojo claimed this album as the greatest ever. I don't go to raves, I've never even heard this played at a bar. Maybe I just love the cover (Isn't it great?!).






7. Wilco - Sumerteeth
The power of Summerteeth, and why I listen to it constantly no matter what mood, is the way it wraps heartbreaking lyrics with some of most driven, gitty music imaginable. I'd like to congratulate Jay Bennet. Synth here. Hand claps there. The deeper it burrows into the pain of Twitty the more Bennet lays on the schmaltz. It's a dangerous record, one that can make a shot in the arm seem joyous. But in terms of sheer listenability, it's a stunning achievement.



6. Sigur Ros - Agaetis Byrjun
Having your mind completely fucked everyone once in a while is important, and for me it all began with Sigur Ros, a band completely different than anything I had everything I had witnessed before. Sure there was Radiohead. Sure I've listened to more difficult music. But Sigur Ros, especially on this album, produces sounds I'd never known before, and ones that I never thought I'd love so much. This album has powers.

Freshman year, Austin and I would fall asleep to this almost every night. I probably have listened to it more in my dreams than on my computer.

The Best Albums of the 90s: 15-11

15. Beck - Odelay
Beck is strangely unlistenable now. I once considered him a genius. In the summer of 1999, my number 1 album of the year was Midnite Vultures, an album I thought was revolutionary and complex and now consider incredibly tame. Same thing with Mutations. I used to listen to it . Mellow Gold has a ramshackle feel to it, that is easy to love and equally annoying. And poor Odelay. Once destined for pantheon status as on of the landmark albums of the 90s and of all time, is now slowly fading. But it's also the only great Beck album (though I'll still stand by most of Sea Change) and deserves to be looked at again.

14. Nirvana - In Utero
I don't get Nevermind. As the one album from the nineties that ever touches lists of great albums, it remains a complete mystery to me why it does so constantly, all the time, and without irony. Nevermind bugs the hell out of me, not because I hate the songs, but just the production. It's glossy and well manicured. Maybe blame Butch Vig, but it sounds dated. In Utero? It's still hits really, really hard. Maybe it was Girl Talk that reintroduced me to those drums in Scentless Apprentice, but they are massive. But this has always been my favorite Nirvana album, maybe I liked the darker shades of Kurt, and especially All Apologies. But when I think of Nirvana this is always the first album that comes to mind.

13. The Flaming Lips - The Soft Bulletin
This was another album that I came to after the fact. I was even late to the game on Yoshimi, an album that I immediately fell for. But the Soft Bulletin is something different, and I wasn't quite ready for it when I found it. It's dark, warped, and not nearly as playful as Yoshimi. It took time, but while Yoshimi sounds tied to its time, the Soft Bulletin sounds better every time I return to it. The power of the Soft Bulletin is how it wraps it's songs in some of the most impressive production techniques, and yet each one of these strange tunes could stand neatly on its own if played on an acoustic guitar. There aren't many Flaming Lips songs you can say that about.


12. Belle and Sebastian - If Your Feeling Sinister
One of my favorite things to witness in New York is when someone puts Belle and Sebastian on the jukebox at some indie dive. It's so quiet compared to whatever came on before that everyone sits around wondering if anything is playing. A shock runs through the room. They get real quiet. Is it broken? But slowly a little acoustic guitar strum appears, and that little croon pops up. By the second verse, it becomes more evident, and when everyone finally notices that it's the Belle, they usually smile and comment that, isn't that nice, Belle and Sebastian is playing. As quiet and peculiar as this album is, for some reason it sounds best with a lot of people listening to it. That Blake is usually responsible for the play is another matter.

11. The Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dream / Pavement - Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain
Out on tour with The Smashing Pumpkins Nature kids, i/they dont have no function I dont understand what they mean And I could really give a fuck.

It's come to my attention over the past years that these albums are essentially one and the same. These artists have much more in common than anyone would like to believe. Both are highly adventurous albums, which signaled both groups most commercial work. That the Pumpkins sold millions upon millions more than Pavement is beyond question. Why they both remind me of each other, even if though it's obvious that they didn't like it each other, is the subtle ways each one tries to act like the other. The similarities even go down to their album titles.

I believe it deep down, a fact that I think was backed up with Pig Lib, that Stephen Maulkmus wishes he had a muscular rock band behind him. Sure the charm would be gone, but he'd be able to indulge his prog rock instincts. What is "Stop Breathing", other than an excuse to, however awkwardly, solo? And because Maulkmus is a much better guitarist than he has any right to be, he wants to break away at every moment, but stumbles when he sees the rest of the band not catching up.

And in that same way, Billy wishes he could be as cool as Malkmus. It's really obvious. Billy wants so often to be cool, but he couldn't be further away. So he hides his lyrics in vague meanings and tries to sound smarter than he is to counter the affect. But maybe I'm stretching things. The best part about each one of these albums, is how they try for each others glory and end up stumbling over their own unique vision. Crooked Rain's awkward walk is half of it's charm, and Siamese Dream would stumble over itself if it were even sort of cool.

Even if you discount the duality in both of their album titles, the similarities run deep. They should really end their feud and create a supergroup. Now that would be an album.

The Best Albums of the 90s: 20-16

20. The Beastie Boys - Check Your Head


Man, I listened to a whole bunch of Beastie Boys in high school. It reached full fruition after Hello Nasty. And then began the steady decline. First dropped off their annoying debut, and then Ill Communication (has anyone ever listened to the last 10 songs of that album?). And as much as I loved Paul's Boutique, it seems juvenile at this point. I'd probably need to give it another listen. But this album. It seems as wildly experiemiental as the first head scratching time I listened to it.



19. Bjork - Homogenic
Good god that bass. The first time I heard the Hunter, I didn't really know how to react. What was that? There had been nothing in my Midwest upbringing that could have prepared me for that assault. Something so unique, mysterious, and deliberately weird was the exact opposite of what I was listening to at the time. And it still, more or less, feels the same way. I don't know where Bjork came from or what she hopes to accomplish, but I still have dreams about the collapsing set in the "Bachelorette" video. Maybe that's because they played it on MTV. Really. I guess that's what youtube is for no adays.


18. Blur - 13
I was once attacked by an angry Irish waitress when I admitted I liked Blur's albums. Great singles, maybe, she said, but all their albums are crap. I then countered that my favorite album was 13, and she said "oh that's different." Yes, it is different. Nothing by them really sounds like this album, one that can happily be described as an absolute mess. While all the rock bands in the late nineties were making electronic albums, trying to shift up their beats, Blur used tape hiss and amplication to dramatically change the clean tones of their previous albums. It's an atricious mess, with not a few unlistenable moments. But it's always exciting, always ready to shift under your feat.
17. Radiohead - The Bends
After OK Computer imprinted itself in my head, it was only a matter of time before I moved back to The Bends. And much to my surprise, it's as much of a statement as its big brother. Sure the songs are great-it probably has better singles than OK Computer-but the reason I return to this album is because of those guitars. They are everywhere. I doubt there is a powerchord on this whole album, but each distorted burst seems to land with as much force as a Pete Townsend whirl wind. I konw it doesn't sound intellectual to pass off a moody, somewhat depressing album as having great guitars, but whatever.

16. R.E.M. - New Adventures in Hi-Fi
My favorite 80s R.E.M. album is probably Reckoning, a rambling, loose collection of songs that they had largely written during the tour for their debut album Murmur. It's quick, passionate, and largely devoid of studio trickery that had peppered Murmur. My favorite 90s album by R.E.M. is probably New Adventures in Hi-Fi, a long, rambling collection of largely rock songs written and recorded during the Monster tour. It almost entirely devoid of the warped wall of guitars of its predecessor, and somehow rocks even harder. While it's fun hearing R.E.M. record what is essentially a live album, there are moments of great fidelity that help break the album up. The best is "E-Bow", with it's refrain about "aluminum tastes like fear", that sounds menancing and beautiful at the same time. I like all of R.E.M.'s 90s albums, it wasn't until Around the Sun that they blew it. And I probably should have more on here. From here it probably would go Out of Time, Monster (grossly underrated), Automatic for the People, and finally Up--a cheerful little record that is just a tad too long. But it's New Adventures that I play the most.

The Best Albums of the 90s: 25-21

This isn't a guilty pleasure list. We've done that before. And now is not the time. I can't put on albums I'd like to say I hate but secretly listen to occasionally (STP's Tiny Music...Songs from the Vatican Gift Shop, Green Day's Dookie). This is about what I consider the best of the 90s. This list has been much harder than I thought it would be.

It's funny how much things have changed, how many things I declared as permanent have changed. I listened to a lot of grunge rock as a kid, and not much is left. Same thing with rap. I listened to a lot of gangsta rap in middle school, and while it's a good nostalgia trip, it's not great.

Some things didn't surprise me. By my senior year of high school, I had kind of figured out that no one really liked the Stone Temple Pilots, and for good reason. But some things have surprised me. By 2002 I had fallen in love with Weezer's Pinkerton, and my love was only confirmed by the vast majority of students at college. But after two brutally bad albums, I can't with any feeling listen to them.

About half of these albums I found after the 90s had died. I thought this would be such an interesting exercise, to look back at what I remembered, and what I listen to now. We're constantly reevaluating the past, but until now the 90s always felt so close. But they are so, so far away.

I also wanted to see what other people thought. What have a forgotten about, never explored, or need vindication about. It begins now.

25. Cornershop - When I was Born for the 7th Time
Cornershop were my little secret in high school. It was hard to admit to people that "Brimful of Asha" is your favorite song of the summer, especially when it's not the Fat Boy Slim remix. It's just not many times you can become infatuated with a Indian/British hodge podge of hip hop, country, Ginsberg instrumentals, and a completely serious version of Norwegian Wood sung in Indian. And unlike a lot of my weirder loves during the time, this one still sounds just as fresh as when it first come out. I especially love "Good Shit", where he repeats the title over and over and makes it sound so darling.

24. Pearl Jam - Vitalogy
Time hasn't been that kind to Pearl Jam. I have every single one of their albums and starting at about my Junior Year in college I haven't listened to them. Except, that is, for this one. Their dour mood seems forced now. Glum might be the better word. But if someone asked me what grunge was and why it was so popular, this is what I'd hand them. Weird, dark, heavy, melodic, and just arty enough to have edge. Vs still rocks like a monster, but after 10 years, this one still sounds the best. Why? Maybe it's the deliberately stripped down production, but I think the main reason is that's its the first time they didn't take themselves so seriously. Song about bugs? Check. Jazz freak folk outs? Check. Self-loathing grunge? You betcha...

23. Wilco - Being There
I never got Wilco until Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, so imagine my surprise when I went back two albums and found out that they were a happy-go-lucky rock band. Big huge riffs? Catchy choruses? How about really great classic rock solos? In "Heavy Metal Drummer" they may have talked about watching those "heavy metal bands, I used to go see on the landing in the summer", but this album beckons for such an event. It sounds kind of silly, but the 90s had a lot of dull rockers, and this one showed me that rocking seriously didn't have to be so studied and mechanical. Playing really loud guitars could actually be a whole lot of fun.

22. Oasis - Definitely Maybe
One of my favorite past-times is defending Oasis. Especially to the people who believe Oasis only wrote weepy acoustic ballads. The first place I start is with "Supersonic", and then move to "Columbia", and end with "Cigarettes and Alcohol". Usually people either cup their ears in defense of the abrasive distortion, or admit what I always knew, that Oasis, in their infancy, were a seriously great rock band. While they'd become a boring stadium touring dinosaur so very quickly, none of these songs is plagued with the boring rock conformity that strangled Oasis later in their life. Whether they incorporated shoegaze, disco, or blues riffs, it's a marvelous debut and one that most people are surprised to hear.

21. U2 - Achtung Baby
My favorite U2 album, Achtung Baby is the only one that doesn't seem indebted to its time. As great as Joshua Tree is, the moment those reverbed guitars hit the speakers the only thing I can think is: "it's the 80s." And as much as I like Zooropa, it's buzzing dance oriented songs sound very much of the 90s. But Achtung Baby, for some crazy reason, still feels modern to me. The songs don't stray much from normal rock construction, there are still lots of verses and choruses, but the execution is detailed and infinitely pleasurable. "One" will probably never get old, but I always loved "Even Better than the Real Thing". I like the sex god Bono. But that's just me.

Best Albums of 2006: 5-1

5. Hot Chip - The Warning
One constant theme through this list seems to be the lack of time I had to digest an album, because the binge I went on for the past month, where I probably went through 30 albums, if not more. Somewhere along the line I just didn't find enough time for Herbert, Califone, Love is All, or Beirut, though I have them all and can't wait to give them more than one spin. But I don't need any more time with Hot Chip. I already know it's stacked with single, after single, of infectious dance pop. But what always grabs me, and why I can't seem to stop listening to this album, is the dark undertone that keeps cutting at all these songs, even as the keyboards glare and the melodies remain peppy. "We tried, but we don't belong" reads like it should be over syrupy strings. But it's not. How they made one of the most impersonal genres into something so genuine is hard to grasp, but it hasn't stopped me from trying to figure it out.

4. Belle and Sebastian - The Life Pursuit
Me and the Belle had a little romp this year that lasted roughly 4 months, where I didn't let anything else get between me. I'm not sure why Stuart Murdoch's voice can appease my head, but I was wrapped up in it for the longest time. And it's all because of this album. Sure I'd heard their earlier albums, I had even liked Dear Catastrophe Waitress and loved "Your Covers Blown", but here was an album where they their pop fantasies sat firmly on top of their newly found hips, which they swung with big bassy grooves for the entire disc. It doesn't have the same kind of importance as If You're Feeling Sinister, but Belle and Sebastian have never really ever been this much fun before.
Much has been said about indie rock's recent love affair with 70's AM rock, a genre that seems far removed from the raw pop of most indie. And to be sure, the Decemberists came nowhere near this list because of their recent foray, which keeps getting worse every time I listen to it. But instead of highlighting the bombast of some of the worst music ever made, they've taken the glam sheen and adapted it to their personal tales.

When I downloaded this album, I for some reason I stopped at "The Price for a Cup of Tea", meaning that sweet melancholy joyride song always ended this gleeful piece. So when I finally realized it wasn't the last track, I got rather offended and went ahead a deleted the weepy ballad that took it's place. This is a giddy free-fall of a record, and it should stay that way.
3. Mylo - Destroy Rock n Roll
So I took off on my bicycle. I don't go to many shows anymore. Sometimes I kind of wish I'd spend more time doing that, but I really don't feel that guilty. The bands I do see are ones that I dearly love, because I want to get drunk and sing every word. It could be my upbringing. Back in rural Indiana, going to a show meant organizing a huge expedition, and I still haven't gotten used to walking down the street and seeing someone perform. My excuse is old and tired, but I always grew up listening to music on headphones, and that's what I love the most. I think that's an artist at his most pure. Everything else heightens the experience, but it can never replace it. I love examining every crevice of my favorite music, and that can only be done with repeated close listening, and I can't think of anything more intimate then music being pumped straight into your ears at a outrageously loud volume. I think Mylo gets that, too. This dance music at it's most geeky and edited. Playing this at a club would probably stop the action in it's tracks, but on headphones it's sounds quite nearly perfect.
For headphone albums there is always an ideal situation, or at least one that pushes understanding beyond anything you could imagine, like listening to "Let Down" during rush hour in Times Square. And I can't imagine a better scenario than illegally listening to "Muscle Car" fully buckled in during a hairy take off from Laguardia in a very small plane that gets bumped around a lot. Actually, I can't think of too many bad times to play this album.
2. The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America
"Gonna walk around and drink some more."
Rock lyrics are often criticized about only talking about girls, sex and having a good time. The thinking is that the human condition is much more complex, and that this narrow focus doesn't quite capture the many other shades of life. But the only time you're ever going to listen to the Hold Steady is when you want to go out, meet girls, and have a good time. Not that the characters ever get what they want. "Boys and girls in America, have such a sad time together." And they do. None of the hookups work out, none of the drugs arrive on time, and there's this lonely girl walking around trying to find some more beer. What are all these boys and girls looking for? Sure they're looking for each other, but I think they're just looking for a better soundtrack. "We had some massive nights/ every song was right." There is one dud on this whole disc, but it's a short punky, raveup that you can't dance to. Every other song is either a rock anthem with a catchy chorus, or a weepy ballad about sad girls and boys where you'd have to get close with someone. And that's the way it should be. Rock needs to bring these sad groups together, even if it's just for one night where everything won't go to plan. But that won't stop them from wandering around trying to find the next person, that next experience, or even that last glass of beer. I liked Seperation Sunday, but nothing prepared me for this sad and joyous record, where failing sounds like the best soundtrack to wasted nights you could ever imagine.
1. The Pipettes - We Are the Pipettes
I feel like I should be deeply ashamed about this, and I’m sort of cowering now as I think of placing this at number 1. But please let me explain.
Austin's right. I do know all the names to the Pipettes (Becki, Rose, and Gwenno-they kicked Julia out about a year ago). I know the name of their backup band (the Cassettes), and where they are from (Brighton). There is, actually, not much I don't know about the Pipettes compared to most heterosexuals. I can't really explain why I've placed a pastiche girl band from England on the top of the list except that they make me really, unbelievably, uncontrollably happy every single day. There is not a single album that came remotely close to the giddy rush that this album gave me this year. I love the way they dress, the way they dance, and how bratty they are on television interviews, but mostly I'm just in love with the songs.
"Your Kisses are Wasted on Me" and "Pull Shapes" are the two most infectious singles released this year, and they are both on the same disc. "Your Kisses" mixes bratty Got Team energy with some heavenly chorus snatched out of some Diana Ross song. "Pull Shapes" was ripped straight from ABBA by way of "Hey Ya" except they break it down three times. And while the intoxicating heights of those two singles are never really topped, it's ridiculous to hide what would otherwise be a outrageous collection of perfect nostalgia, whether that's the cool sexiness of "Judy", "Dirty Mind", or "Tell Me What You Want."
There were better crafted albums this year, ones with deeper themes, and better production and you'll never excuse any of these singers for Beyonce. With a clear head, I'd probably pick the Hold Steady or even Mylo, and who knows, when I post this and realize what I've done, I might knock it down. But when I think of the album that I cared about the most, listened to the most, and wanted to tell the most people about, there really was no contest.

Best Albums of 2006: 10-6

10. Asobi Seksu - Citrus
Some things I don't understand. Like why I have a job that I hate so much, why they won't pave the road outside my apartment, or why I like this one particular kind of cart food on 28th and Madison with greasy chicken and fried eggplant. But absurdly loud guitars over atmospheric white noise with a breathless cooing in the background, that I get. I adore shoegaze or dream pop, or whatever this is, because it hits that part of my brain that other people reserve for angelic choirs and church organs. And that's what the entirity of this record does for me.


9. The Rapture - Pieces of the People we Love
People don't dance no more? Last time out they were banging their gear as loud as they could to create the furious sound of a sweaty club. They've cleaned up their act somewhat, but instead of ditching their dancing shoes and loosing that akward falsetto, they've decided to push the beats further. Tics and blips come from every angle of the speaker, pushing each song in unexpected ways. The guitars don't pierce in the same way, instead adding a new counterpoint, which the bass finally falls behind. They may never surpass the manic energy of their debut, but they have just made one that I feel is better in almost every way.
8. M Ward - Post-War
This list should be dedicated to Mr. Ward, for without this little gem, there probably would be no list. I get approximately 10 channels, and four of them are Brooklyn Free Speech. When they are not showing secrets of the Subway they are showing junior high basketball games shot on a handheld camera by screaming dad in the third row. Except once real late for some odd reason they were showing music videos and the first one I saw was M. Ward's cartoon parable "Chinese Translation". I'm not sure what hit me, why the chorus "What do you do with the pieces of a broken heart?" gets me every time. Maybe it's the sweeping guitar strings or the dream like atmosphere, but the next day I downloaded it, and really haven't stopped listening to it. I was never a big fan of M. Ward before this album, but I didn't realize how varied it would be. From the sad strumming of "Poison Cup" to the sing-a-long happiness of "Magic Trick". It's a record I had no intention of finding, and for some reason that makes it that much sweeter.

7. Beth Orton - Comfort of Stranger
I don't have any use for Beth Orton the techno singer songwriter, who apparently blazed the trails with Will Oldham and created such interesting records in the 90's. She was not part of my life, and when I returned to her past record after becoming infatuated with this one, I realized how hard she was trying. I'm sure they have their place, and some people love them, but it's hard to go back when your point of reference is this gorgeous, warm record that feels like old love letters. Those don't sound like powerful adjectives, but they have their place, and for some reason this year I needed this record a lot. Whether it was the sunshine of "Conceived" or the easy breeze of "Countenance". It's made all the more divine thanks to Jim O'Rourke homey production and understated playing. The pleasures are infinite, even if they never reach too deep. Quite like that rainbow on the front cover.
6. Bruce Springsteen - We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions
There are essentially two kinds of Springsteen. There's the rock n' roller, whose explosive albums Born to Run, Born in the U.S.A., and half of the River, search for meaning in relationships through the music of his youth. And there is the troubadour of folk, whistfully putting out quiet albums about quiet people in a rural towns like Nebraska, Ghost of Tom Joad, and the other half of the River. They butted heads in playslists, followed each other in concerts, but rarely have they ever appeared in the same song. This could have been a pleasant record, one with lots of earnestly sung protest songs. But apparently the other Bruce showed up for recording, and took those damaged protest songs sung by Seeger and turned them into one of the most triumphant recordings of his career. Make no mistake, this is no folk album. He weaves New Orleans jazz, dixieland, bluegrass, and other desperate sources in the same song, creating a rich celebratory band that sounds great really loud. It's his best album since Born in U.S.A., but more importantly, it's Bruce at his most fun.