Welcome back. Read on for the next twenty.
80. May Holiday
by Rose Elinor Dougall
from Without Why
[Alternative / Pop]
“May Holiday” is not Without Why’s best track, but “Another Version of a Pop Song” and “Fallen Over” were released as singles long before the Pipettes’ Rose Elinor Dougall finally released her solo debut LP. After describing the anticipation of a wondrous night of romance, Dougall’s rich voice takes shape but doesn’t aim for the easy angle of volume/intensity wavering. The melody is simply exquisite, flighty and lush during the verses, only to be compelled by the slow-waking drums to an exultant refrain where she bursts, “And I wonder what we will make of these days of ours.”
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79. We
by Society of Rockets
from Future Factory
[Alternative]
With an album of leftovers and a solid solo outing from “The Shah,” Stereolab had a pretty good year even though they called it quits nearly twenty months ago. It was also a good year for Society of Rockets, a group clearly indebted to the lounge-motorik vibe of Stereolab, when they released their first full-length at the end of ’09. “We,” in particular, owes an obvious debt to their probing kraut-pop and bewitching vocal drone style. Credit the burbling fantasies of the synthesizers for giving us reason to race back.
78. Eyesore
by Women
from Public Strain
[Alternative / Rock]
Closing out another curiously overpraised Women LP was “Eyesore,” a seemingly aimless exercise in lo-fi guitar psych-pop, as much a product of Haight-Ashbury as Lee Renaldo. You can hardly understand what Patrick Flegel is murmuring, but each hissing jangle guitar chord and percussive clomp registers without abstraction. By the time they sort out the wayward structure to a looping, hypnotic riff that takes up pretty much the entire second half you start to wish that this six-and-a-half minute song could stretch on well into the double digits.
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77. Semi-Precious Stone
by Wolf Parade
from the Semi-Precious Stone single
[Alternative / Rock]
I admire all four greatly, but it’s a lot easier for me to pick John over Paul than it is for me to decide between Dan and Spencer. “Semi-Precious Stone,” a leftover from the Expo 86 sessions released as a single to commemorate the start of their North American tour, is Spencer’s through and through: hook-loaded but exploratory, dominated by the rhythm section, and as vague as a song can be without teetering into the territory of nonsense. Best bit of near-nonsense: “This is the sound of the sky foaming at the mouth.”
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76. You Don’t Have to Be Mad
by Gang of Four
from Content
[Rock]
Based on evidence of “You Don’t Have to Be Mad,” the remaining original members of Gang of Four haven’t aged a day since their last great LP, 1982’s Songs of the Free. Twitchy riffs, elastic bass, thumping drums; it sounds more like a lost recording than something new. Gives great promise to Content, an album still a month away from release, but this one’s been marinating in my bloodstream since the end of May. Speaking of blood, is it really creepy or hysterically cool that they’d sell fans vials of their own blood to help fund the recording?
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75. I Walked
by Sufjan Stevens
from The Age of Adz
[Electronic / Pop]
No, I will not try to be cute and say that the impossibly bloated “Impossible Soul” was one of the year’s best, but shouldn’t we at least rejoice the first “true” album from Sufjan Stevens since Illinoise? It was, obviously, too much to hope for another state tribute, but all hope that rumors of an “electronic-influenced” sound à la Enjoy Your Rabbit was hokum proved silly as well—after the shuddering beats and synthesizer orchestra of “I Walked,” you wonder how Stevens ever got by without it.
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74. Ice Lips
by We Love
from We Love
[Electronic]
The Young Marble Giants of Daft Punk’s world, We Love is a sturdy Italian electronic duo with a penchant for the minimal and downbeat without sacrificing the yearn and the thrill. “Ice Lips” is appropriately frosty, dark and seductive, a wave of machine clicks, bass thuds, chilly sparkles and basement synthesizers. The dynamic between twin vocalists Giorgia Angiuli and Piero Fragola have a real Sim-Croft thing going for them; can’t possibly be a bad thing.
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73. I Didn’t See It Coming
by Belle & Sebastian
from Belle & Sebastian Write About Love
[Alternative / Pop]
No one from the Tigermilk/If You’re Feeling Sinister days saw it coming. The leadoff to Belle & Sebastian Write About Love (their best album since The Boy with the Arab Strap) features their typical misleading hooks, warm and sincere production, gently implacable vocals, and abstract lyrics in concrete terms, but their best work before now had been subtle in their rich musical tapestries. “I Didn’t See It Coming” just keeps piling it on, busy but never overcrowded, until they reach one of the biggest pop confection closes they’ve ever attempted.
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72. Carolina
by Girls
from Broken Dreams Club
[Alternative]
The steel guitar and floating synthesizer are integrated so well during the intro of “Carolina” that you hardly even notice the instrument separation. Then you hardly even notice when the more familiar drum thwacks and blanket of guitar fuzz enter the picture. Hell, you hardly even notice when Christopher Owens’ voice goes from a dour death grip to a yearning falsetto. Jump around on this epic final track and you can plainly see the movement separation, but with broken, angular trades all the rage today, it’s refreshing to hear a song that metamorphoses so organically.
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71. Angela Surf City
by the Walkmen
from Lisbon
[Alternative / Rock]
Judging by the success of the Walkmen’s stomping ragers like “The Rat” and “Angela Surf City” over the sometimes listless drone of dejected “atmosphere” rock that comprises much of their remaining catalog, this five piece should shake out the blues and find a cause to rally around more often (typically self-loathing or worldly disgust). More overtly surf rock than the norm (it’s kinda right there in the title), when Hamilton Leithauser reaches the refrain and has to howl over the suddenly storming guitars and pummeling beat, you get launched right off your board.
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70. Bohemian Forest
by Pantha du Prince
from Black Noise
[Electronic]
Although there is no shortage of clinks, plinks and plunks over “Bohemian Forest”’s seven-and-a-half minutes, it sums up both the appeal and mystery of minimal techno—it’s so clinical and bereft of clear-cut hooks, that you can get lost in it without understanding why (or wanting to in the first place). Observant study brings remarkable returns, but I’m just as satisfied letting this gossamer drizzle of bells, marimbas and steel pans float lazily in the background.
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69. After Hours
by the Electric Six
from Zodiac
[Rock]
Sorely missing the ranks of entertaining dumb gut-shot rock makes me appreciate a song like “After Hours.” Dick Valentine’s full-throated yawp is largely reminiscent of Jackyl’s Jesse James Dupree (so, not particularly appealing) but the speed, brawn and attitude hearkens back to a bygone era when that was enough to have a sturdy rocker (where gummy flattery wasn’t hoisting coffin nails). They’re also just weird and glam enough to emerge unscathed from the stench of modern hard rock rotating on the radio today—in case you forgot, this gang gave the world “Gay Bar.” Forget musical subtlety or subjective motivation; empty both barrels and full speed ahead.
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68. Don’t Look Back
by Kylesa
from Spiral Shadow
[Metal / Alternative]
Kylesa’s brand of streamlined, catchy metal may keep some purists away, but their crossover potential has been high for quite some time. “Don’t Look Back” might be the closest they’ve yet come, which ought to delight fans and frustrate naysayers. While undoubtedly heavy, it’s less sludgy and far more post-hardcore hook-driven than earlier releases—it even features a melodic undercurrent not far removed from Smashing Pumpkins’ “Today”—and Phillip Cope’s clear, clean vocal delivery is instantly engaging among all the throat-shredding clones.
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67. Midnight Directives
by Owen Pallett
from Heartland
[Alternative / Pop]
With time spent as Final Fantasy as well as the man behind some of the Arcade Fire’s string arrangements, Owen Pallett’s skill as both a melodist and songwriter was clear before he dropped the moniker and came out as himself. With a voice not far removed from Andrew Bird, but with a flair for the violin instead of whistling, “Midnight Directives” announced immediately as Heartland’s opener that his confidence and resources would befit his style. You can never pin down this melody but you sure have fun trying to keep up with its racing flights of fancy.
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66. Crush
by Abe Vigoda
from Crush
[Alternative / Rock]
With its negligence of the world music, tropicalia and Afro-beat influence that made their debut so exciting, count Abe Vigoda’s Crush album among the year’s gently disappointing LPs—it just sounded like another sturdy but unexceptional entry in the “indie rock” canon. The title track, however, contains the same standard beats, careening guitars and moody vocal ache, but ratchets up the tightly-wound frenzy, relegating its slow-furrow cliché to a terse eleven-second warm-up before exploding. Even that synthesizer hook—as obvious in execution as it is in employment—is mighty engaging.
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65. Decisions
by How to Dress Well [feat. Yüksel Arslan]
from Love Remains
[Alternative / Soul]
Spacious and symphonic in mannerism, the landscape of “Decisions” isn’t immediate or hooky, but Tom Krell’s ethereal, neo-soul falsetto, which wavers between pure, melismatic fog and syllabic crystals that can’t quite locate the brain, sells every ounce of its sentiment. Cheap recording equipment gives it that crackle, which will turn away radio-trained soul music fiends, but really just makes it seem more intimate and ravaged by a performance that seems always on the verge of breaking to pieces.
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64. Talisman
by Moulettes
from Moulettes
[Folk / Alternative]
Moulettes’ brand of absurdly unpredictable music filters British folk, gypsies, jazz orchestra, prog rock…hell, I think they swipe a few tricks from sea shanties and playground rhymes while they’re at it. It would require great concentration and repetition for us mortals to memorize the plays, which makes a tune like “Talisman” so remarkable. They sound like a big band swing group when it’s just the twin vocalists’ tongues darting out between their teeth over near-silence during the last minute…right after they came out the green hills of Lancashire with Renaissance Fair patrons nipping their heels.
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63. Let’s Get Lost
by Bat for Lashes [feat. Beck]
from Twilight Saga: Eclipse soundtrack
[Alternative]
It feels like a big cosmic joke that a movie franchise as wretchedly “un-hip” as Twilight could manage to attract so many “hip” musical commodities to provide songs for its soundtracks, but Justin Bieber just doesn’t fit into its faux-goth attitude (But its chaste melodrama? That’s a bingo). That doesn’t mean that every offering is a winner (most aren’t), but “Let’s Get Lost” manages to mirror the moody mooniness of the film it’s accompanying as well as exist as a solid slice of electro-goth that Natasha Khan specializes in—lumbering lyrics, evocative vocals (including Beck taking Sea Change at least two steps further), and hypnotic beats.
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62. You’re My Excuse to Travel
by Baths
from Cerulean
[Electronic / Pop]
Since it sounds stapled/collaged as well as chirpy and histrionic, describing the vocals of “You’re My Excuse to Travel” as being a fusion of Passion Pit and the Avalanches’ “Since I Left You” actually fits. Will Wiesenfeld blearily screaming, “If you still want me to be there, I'd be there in a minute to say: ‘I love you enough to drive like an hour from wherever I am to be with you’,” ain’t quite the same distance of devotion exhibited by the Proclaimers, but its specific validity is admirable against a backdrop and presentation that feels wobbly and surreal.
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61. Younger Us
by Japandroids
from the Younger Us single
[Rock]
Like No Age, Japandroids abandoned some of their skuzzy grind this year with the “Younger Us” single. In fact, if it were any crisper and waxier, it wouldn’t sound that far removed from the latest forgettable nugget from [insert “favorite” faux-emo pop punk band]. The key difference is that this duo doesn’t plant limp poetry from a junior high diary into their lyrics; in fact, “Younger Us” is an exuberant celebration of youth, with hardly any rose-colored glasses imagery or risible buzzword tosh (are you listening, Rivers?). Erase the inevitable skepticism, apathy and regret—for now, the possibilities are endless.
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(#100 - 81)
(#60 - 41)
(#40 - 21)
(#20 - 1)
