10.

Band: Sufjan Stevens
Album: Ilinois

It’s hard not to be repetitive when I’ve already outlined why I like Sufjan Stevens. Illinois is better than Michigan. The crazy arranged stuff is more fun, the subtle beauty is more subtle. “Chicago” is just such an amazing song, with Stevens’ voice taking center stage.

—

It’s hard to defend Stevens, certainly. How do you look at him and not see the decade-long backlash against hipsters in his music? Illinois straddles the irony/sincerity line as much as any record — hell, all of Stevens’ music is like this.

Stevens is almost a point-by-point recitation of a certain stereotype. Midwestern transplant to New York (not just New York, but the hipster-est of the boroughs, Brooklyn)? Check. Raised by hippie parents? Check. Soft-spoken? Check. Fully arranged, crazy music, buttressed by tender songwriter stuff? Check. Boyish good looks? Check. One weird thing about which is personal, but pervades his work (in Stevens’ case, religion)? Check. Lyrics that are literate and layered? Check. Hell, Stevens’ latest work is a multimedia project involved the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway! How much more hipster can you get?

The 2000s have seen both the expansion and backlash of “hipster” culture. A close friend of mine was a hipster for Halloween a few years ago and it was not considered weird. American Apparel ads traffic in this image, with waifish chicks, stubbled dudes and almost kiddie porn iconography. Pitchfork’s Web site has become one a hitmaker. McSweeney’s has taken over a certain corner of the literary world, even getting to the point that Dave Eggers wrote the adapted screenplay for the Where The Wild Things Are movie. Wes Anderson is a leading director, all twee and old Euro mod music. Video game makers use Matador back catalogs (MLB2k7), Sub Pop tracks (the Rock Band series) and Bloc Party songs (the EA FIFA series) to soundtrack their games. People — myself included — drink Pabst Blue Ribbon and aren’t sure why.

Stevens has surfed along this wave, both negatively and positively. He gets a huge backlash (see my piece on Michigan and my friend’s comment about it), but he also gets huge critical acclaim. This album, in fact, was Pitchfork’s top album the year it was released.

Me? I love Sufjan. As somsone who wishes he was a hipster, I enjoy Stevens’ music and think it smart and interesting. The 50 states project — no, of course he’s not going to go through with it — looked to me to be awesome. I like his dopey theatrics and find them fun. But, mostly, I think his music is evocative, hook-heavy and brilliant.

9.

Band: The Postal Service
Album: Give Up

It seems as though I’m getting to the point wherein I could write a book about Ben Gibbard, considering how much I’ve written about him. I know this isn’t true; I don’t have the discipline, knowledge, writing skill or interest in writing a book. But, really, I think about the guy’s work a lot. Far more than a 28-year-old should.

—

It’s certainly up for debate — it’s a debate in my own head, for example — as to which is the best of Gibbard’s work, but there is hardly any question that Give Up is in that conversation. Success-wise, it’s certainly up there as the album has gone nearly platinum for Sub Pop. Similarly, the Postal Service’s music has been used in advertisements, movies and television shows.

As with many of the albums near the top of my list, Give Up has an interesting gestation story which I will not recount here (our friend Wikipedia has the story).

—

How twee is too twee?

I say that as an unabashed Wes Anderson fan and someone who counts David Eggers as his favorite author. But, twee in music is a concept that often grates on me. Give Up isn’t twee in the most strict sense of the word, but there is certainly a “too cute” thing about it.

So, there’s the question: How does Give Up stay outside that distinction? It’s all beeps, boops and Ben Gibbard’s whispery “I’m a sensitive guy” vocals. There’s little of the vitriol in Gibbard’s best work (“Tiny Vessels,” the All-Time Quarterback record, the second Death Cab album, etc.) evident on the Postal Service record.

Indeed, Gibbard talks a big “I only write sad songs” game, but he’s nearly always wounded in his writing. He never puts out the anger needed in so many breakup songs (this is why “Tiny Vessels” is so great. It’s stone fucking cold.), but rather plays the hurt ex-boyfriend. That’s all good and well, but even on his great work — Give Up included — he doesn’t sound strong enough.

All that said, there’s something undeniably charming and engrossing about Give Up. It is, no doubt, infectious. In interviews, Gibbard and Tamborello studied popular music and attempted to copy the musical themes — within the context of their own work, of course — and make a record. Give Up does this.

I once wrote that Belle and Sebastian isn’t good pop music and if you thought that, you’re an asshole. I cannot say the same thing about Give Up, as the record is about a great as a pop album as recorded. Rolling Stone called it “cuddly little New Wave reverie,” which is very apt.

The album is full of highlights, no doubt, but “Such Great Heights” is the near-perfect craft. The short guitar lines, the shuffling drums and Gibbard’s soft vocal are all the type of thing that shoots up the charts. Gibbard’s sugary sweet opening is among the great love song bits ever written:

I am thinking it’s a sign.
That the freckles in our eyes.
Are mirror images and
When we kiss they’re perfectly aligned.

Again, he dances around the easy love song dynamics, but reaserts the “we are perfect” motif. It’s a striking bit of writing.

—

The rest of the album is similarly excellent, from the daydreaming “Sleeping In” to the rememberance of a relationship song “Clark Gable” to “Brand New Colony,” a song nearly as sweet as “Such Great Heights.” “Nothing Better” — a duet with Jen Wood — wasinspired by Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me?” and is a perfect update to the song.

Give Up is a wonderful piece of music, straddling the line of “too cute” indie and sincere pop music, dancing between singer/songwriter stuff and electronic music. Six years in, I still listen to it a lot.

8.

Band: The Strokes
Album: Is This It?

Maybe this is an overstatement — as in, this is almost certainly an overstatement — but the Is This It? represents a big change in music for me. The record’s timing — it was released in the United States in October 2001 — made for it having a weird place in my head. The fall of 2001 was the fall of my junior year of college and the year I was supposed to go to CMJ Music Marathon for the Strokes’ big coming out party and I couldn’t go into the KCOU offices that fall without being reminded of this fact. Every day, another call or card telling us about the band. I still have lanyards and passes for their shows at CMJ.

Of course, right before CMJ happened, life in the U.S. changed. I’m not going to recount my story here. If you want to read it, click away. It was well-publicized that the song “New York City Cops” was removed from the U.S. release because of its less-than-great portrayal. But the point is this: I think of the Strokes and I think of the hype.

—

Indeed, RCA and the band’s management promoted the Strokes more than anything I’d experienced. Our DJs were pestering me to put the record into our format way before I’d gotten it — this was slightly before leaking records was huge.

I guess this shit has been happening for forever, but the Strokes record was the first time I’d ever experienced it as a member of the media (albeit college radio), but the Is This It? was almost the definition of “famous for being famous.” In the college radio world, manufactured bands — the Strokes have always been considered manufactured — were looked at as some facisimile of a band. And I guess I saw it the same way, as more hype than anything else. A boy band with guitars, basically.

The Strokes were just another in the Kinks ripoff crowd; The White Stripes and Oneida were doing the same thing in a new minitrend. Garage rock was going to be the next emo or math rock and would pass just the same. That the Strokes were standing on the shoulders of the industry’s hype machine made it that much worse.

Boy, was I wrong.

—

Is This It? is the strongest in a mediocre year for albums, but, man is it strong. The album is carefree in a way that screams youth.

It’s easy to see the proto-punk aspects of the album. The band’s guitar work has the a Velvet Underground feel at times, while it also has a sound reminiscient of a more hook-happy Televison. Rhytymically, it’s a restrained MC5 or Stooges, with fury muted behind a crooning singer.

“Last Night,” while annoying when overplayed, is a fun little romp. “Barely Legal” has the staccato beat of New Wave. “Take It or Leave It” is carefree, with Julian Casablancas’ voice modulating between his raspy scowl and a sultry croon.

Not everything needs to be emotionally evocative. Is This It? evokes something different, an escape from the actual emotion of life.

7.

Band: Radiohead
Album: In Rainbows

I recently earned (earned. Ha!) my Master’s Degree in journalism and the preeminent issue in that subject is the effect technology has had on the industry. Media, in general, has had to deal with technology in a way that few other industries have — car companies aren’t hurting because people are making cheaper Internet cars.

I guess I’d put the music industry in that “media” category. It started with FTP servers with bootlegs; I used to load up dialup to download Elliott Smith bootlegs on my parents’ computer in high school. Napster then came onto the scene and made it such that any college student paying for music was, to be frank, a damned fool. The record industry — big labels, small labels, artists, promoters, whatever — wasn’t making money for their work.

Threats of bullshit lawsuits and innovations in commerce has made it such that illegally downloading music is less of an blip on my radar screen, but torrent technology is clearly making it such that the record industry is still hurting.

And, really, that’s for the best.

The music industry machine is a bullshit industry, as Steve Albini famously wrote in MaximumRocknRoll so many years ago. Bands don’t get treated properly and the entire of the band has made something like five grand for a record that made the label three million. That, of course, is not right. This is why bands tour so much and try to sell so much merchandise.

Technology has made it such that artists will directly get their music to fans via the Web. No record stores, no iTunes, no Amazon. Just the band’s Web site. We’re not there yet — a band has to have a gigantic following to do so — but we will be.

Enter Radiohead.

The In Rainbows pricing scheme was a publicity stunt — I think the band believed in the goodness of people, but it was still clearly a publicity stunt — as “pay what you want” is clear nonesense, especially with DRM-free music. Nevertheless, it was revolutionary.

I’ve always joked that a Radiohead fan would buy an album of Thom Yorke farting into a mic. Radiohead’s fanbase is rabid. And, as such, many people did pay for In Rainbows, even after it was released as a physical record, in stores. The album is one of the best-selling and most distributed albums of recent vintage. It was a brilliant publicity stunt and a brilliant way to bridge the gap between the artist and the fan.

—

Lost in the shuffle of the revolutionary release of the album is the brilliance of In Rainbows. The album is only rivaled by OK Computer and The Bends in strength of the band’s albums. Letting Yorke dabble in solo work took the electronic fiddling away from the band, with an apparent emphasis on melody, craft and arrangments.

The cellos on “Reckoner” are funereal, while the atmospherics of “Jigsaws Falling Into Place” echo Yorke’s seduction lyrics. “House of Cards” and “Nude” are pretty and delicate, while “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” swirls around Yorke’s double-tracked vocals.

The band’s striking thesis — technology is robbing us of our humanity — has drenched every Radiohead album. In Rainbows is no different. The album opener, “15 Step,” starts with a drum machine, only to be usurped by an an actual drum line. “Bodysnatchers” relies on a shuffling guitar and a uptempo beat to back up the tension in the fear of conformity (“Has the light gone out for you?/Because the light’s gone for me/It is the 21st century”). The album’s closer, “Videotape,” recounts a judgment day of sorts, swirling around electronic elements of the song. It’s pessimistic, of course, but equally beautiful.

In the abstract, it’s a decidedly 2000s album. In the concrete, it’s one of Radiohead’s best.

6.

Band: Jay-Z
Album: The Black Album

Jay-Z’s “retirement” album had the rapper working out a personal narrative before our eyes. With an eye toward Notorious B.I.G., The Black Album lets Jay paint a picture full of regrets, pronouncements and theses. It’s a damned shame he has continued to make records because he could have gone out on top.

Calling one’s album The Black Album is a not surprisingly egoist move by Shawn Carter, but not one unprecedented. Comparing his record to the Beatles’ opus is silly, but we’ve come to know that Jay’s record is fucking brilliant.

“Lucifer” is one of Kanye West’s best productions, with a bouncing beat and Jay’s philosphic look at life and death (“Bob” in the final verse may live or die). “Dirt Off Your Shoulder,” as so many great rap records have done, brought an urban ethos to suburban America, popular culture and even the political arena, forgetting that the song is a grade-A Timbaland production. “Change Clothes” is a Neptunes wonder that has Jay looking at his place in the game, his time in life and saying goodbye to the silliness of rap. “99 Problems” is a strong early hip hop production (thanks, Rick Rubin!) and an even stronger storytelling situation about Jay’s problems with the police and his quick thinking. “Moment of Clarity” is harsh and smart. The album’s highlight is the trilogy of introspective career-examining songs near the start of the album. “December 4th” has Jay’s mother telling stories about him, his early life and his growing up without a father. Jay fills in the blanks without a mother’s rose-colored glasses, expressing regret and some sadness. “What More Can I Say” has Jay showing off a harsher flow, with an a capella bit in the middle. “Encore” completes the trilogy with a flourish, celebratng his

—

It would be easy to simply do as most rappers do and talk about stacks and guns and whatever. And Jay does some of that, no doubt. But, The Black Album is honest and smart. It’s a man coming to terms with his mortality and the mortality of his career.

5.

Band: Mastodon
Album: Crack the Skye

From dick joke enthusiasts to video gamers, Mastodon’s 2009 Crack the Skye hits near the top of the list. Indeed, the album is Mastodon’s attempt at moving away from Neurosis and Slayer and becoming more like Tool and Pink Floyd. The results are, needless to say, amazing.

4.

Band: Wilco
Album: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

If Radiohead can tell you how much the music industry sucks, the ballad of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is an exercise in Albini’s theory that the industry is a disaster. As the brilliant documentary I Am Trying to Break Your Heart touches upon, the making of YHF was full of band infighting and label problems. Warner wanted another Summerteeth and Wilco instead got indie rock stalwart Jim O’Rourke to produce the album instead.

What follows is shockingly good. Summerteeth is a certain type of near-perfect album with pop hooks and moving production, but YHT is better. Gone are the pop gems, though the hooks remain, layered on top of dissonant orchestrations, small samples and Jeff Tweedy’s excellent lyrics.

—

The album’s place in the decade is something of a coincidence. Released in early 2002, songs like “War on War” and “Ashes of American Flags” seem to be — not unlike the overpraised and crappy Bruce Springsteen album the Rising — written about the decade’s defining, tragic moment. But, indeed, the record’s release was delayed and delayed. Nevertheless, the songs have some cache in regards to the events, from the slow developing opener to the catchy and acoustic “Jesus, Etc.” “Kamera” and “Heavy Metal Drummer” both recall wonderful days of old, with a nostalgia reserved for other bands.

In the way that it’s a place in the evolution of Wilco — from the country rock stylings of A.M. all the way to the dadrock of Wilco (The Album) — YHT is a distinctly 2000s album.

3.

Band: Lil Wayne
Album: The Carter III

I wanted, so desperately, to put this album in the top slot. So desperately. I really love this album. It probably doesn’t define my life or the times like the first two records do, herego, no. 3.

I’m probably overstating this — certainly possible, as I am ignorant about most music and have a really small level of experience from which to draw — but I’ll compare Tha Carter to, probably, my favorite album of all-time: Dark Side of the Moon. Tha Carter is weird and it shows a man who can jump around genres and still put out a record that people (as in, the hoi palloi) love. In the same way that Dark Side is a prog rock record with outstanding hooks, Tha Carter III is a club record seemingly written and recorded by a man who truly doesn’t give a shit. Like, Del Tha Funkee Homosapien-level of “don’t give a shit.”

That’s an important distinction to be made. Rap music suffers as art — in the eyes of mostly white critics — for many reasons, but the overt commercialism in it is a huge part of that (other reasons include: a misunderstanding of black culture at large, overhomophobia in rap lyrics, off-putting videos.). One of Wayne’s pre-Tha Carter III‘s most famous appearances was his hook on Fat Joe’s “Make it Rain” single. On the best remix (listen here), Wayne is joined by about a million rappers (Actually, just DJ Khaled, Fat Joe, R. Kelly, T.I., Birdman, Rick Ross and Ace Mac) and it’s striking to see the difference between lyrical styles. As in, Wayne isn’t rapping just about how many stacks he has or how he’s got cars. Indeed, Wayne uses some actual wordplay (making references to the Weather Channel, geography and TV) while T.I., basically, just talks about cars. Bleh.

Or take Wayne’s guest spot on Keri Hilson’s awesome “Turnin’ Me On.” Using the (very) sexual theme of the song, Wayne works blue and hopes that the chick’s “Vagina’s tight,” maybe the only use of that word in a song that works, while then bragging about his skills down below by “I go underwater and hope your piranha bite.” It’s oddly charming, very weird and really clever. And those are just guest spots. The type of shit most artists just phone into the studio.

Even the best rappers spend a lot of time talking about much money they have. Even Tha Carter III has a fuck ton of that — the best song on the entire record is about throwing money in a strip club, after all. But, while most rappers just fuck around and lazily rhyme “money” with “funny” and words with themselves, Wayne just stopped caring, at some point.

No, he’s probably not a better person than T.I. or whoever. But, then again, maybe he is.

—

Much has been made about Wayne’s work ethic, but I do wonder if all of this “I just record and let the label deal with it” nonsense is nonsense. On one hand, the few setlists posted online suggest he doesn’t do play up his shows for album sales. Clearly, he just does whatever song is on his mind and he’s recently recorded.

—

Rap music is the dominant genre in music and has been for some time. We’re at a point wherein commercial music can be artistic and no one has done this like Lil Wayne has with Tha Carter III.

2.

Band: Death Cab For Cutie
Album: We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes

I’ve told the story on the podcast, so I won’t repeat it, but Tony Kornheiser is the reason I work in journalism. My fandom of his has waned somewhat — if I wanted to listen to old Jews complain, I have other avenues of doing that (my family) — but I continue to listen to his radio show via podcast every day.

A frequent guest is sportswriter Liz Clarke. Clarke’s utterly charming, slightly self-effacing and makes the show about 500 times better than it should be (Tracee Hamilton is similar, though less charming than Clarke). Like Kornheiser, Clarke’s a big fan of Bruce Springsteen fan.

A few weeks back, she told the story of going to see Springsteen twice on this particular tour, including once in out of town to see him do Springsteen’s second album in its entirety. Despite having seen Springsteen live over 100 times, Clarke still did this because the album was that important to her.

—

The All Tomorrow’s Parties festivals have put on a series called “Don’t Look Back” that does this sort of thing. Tortoise has performed for ATP, as have many other bands I enjoy (Dirty Three doing Ocean Songs sounded particularly awesome). This past year’s Pitchform Festival similarly did such a thing, with Public Enemy, Yo La Tengo, Built to Spill and others doing classic albums. I wish I could’ve seen many of the shows, but they’ve mostly been away from me and I am poor.

I have seen Mastodon do Crack the Skye front to back on the band’s last tour and it was, in Clarke’s words, a religious experience. It’s among the great moments in my concertgoing life and Mastodon didn’t just kill it. They blew the doors off the 9:30 Club.

But, Clarke’s reception of Springsteen’s second album was larger. Her experience of Springsteen is larger, on some level, and I probably have more bands I adore than Clarke does. Seh’s like many Springsteen fans I know: She’ll see him several times on a tour.

In trying to identify a band I identify myself with as much as Clarke does, I don’t know that I can. Most of my favorite bands… That doesn’t work. I don’t think I’d want to see any of Tortoise’s records, front to back (not because all the albums aren’t great, front to back. They are.). Indeed, post-rock is detached, on some level. I’d certainly not refuse Wilco, were they to play Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (or, for that matter, the sublimely perfect Summerteeth) at a local venue, but I had the chance to see them last year and didn’t take it, as Wilco’s most recent albums suck. Hard.

And Clarke’s story just reminded me that We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes would be that album. I would absolutely fly out of town to see — well, assuming I could afford it — the band play it.

—

Look, it’s no secret that music is a huge part of my life. I write these stupid lists and I put up these stupid reviews; music soundtracks nearly everything I do. I struggle constantly with my love of Ben Gibbard’s songwriting and my fandom of Death Cab for Cutie.

This album was my introduction to Gibbard’s work and it remains his best. While The Postal Service record is too twee and Death Cab’s more recent albums meander far too often, We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes is the story of a breakup, with the ups, downs and in-betweens therein.

—

Albums are tattooed on our brains often because of the moment when we heard them. I’ve told the story before, but it remains, I love Death Cab’s second record because I was at transitory point in my life. It occupies a brilliant, beautiful space. It speaks to all those with broken hearts, all those who have been taken apart. Unlike many of the albums on the list, it is timeless.

1.

Band: Isis
Album: Panopticon

Pitchfork’s recitation of why “B.O.B.” was the great included a line about the war that, sadly, came to define much of the decade:

The title– aka “Bombs Over Baghdad”, a phrase that sounded oddly anachronistic in 2000, sadly ubiquitous two and a half years later– is only the start of it.

It’s not an unfair assessment and, obviously, the tragedy that is the Iraq War has defined much of my post-college life. The war started my senior year and dominated three election cycles in that time. Thousands dead. Trillions of dollars spent. It’s a war of serious consequence.

But, really, how can anyone talk about this decade without thinking in terms of Sept. 11? A few records on this list dealt with that tragedy in one way or another — the catchphrasing of You Are Free, the loneliness of Sea Change and the overt politics of One Beat come to mind — but nothing comes close to the all-enveloping nature of the emotion of the time like Panopticon. Like the concept and prisons of its name, the record takes over your brain, from the first second of “So Did We” to the final crunching riffs of “Grinning Mouths.”

The album’s artwork and liners mention security, and nothing feels like the security, fear and emotions that have overwhelmed the U.S. in our dealings with the world like Panopticon. Nothing gets to the isolation modernity gives us, within that context, like Panopticon does (Though, Radiohead has tried to do this). Nothing combines these things like Panopticon while using all instruments as phrase-constructors.

In a post-9/11 world (that is a phrase I never thought I’d put on this site), Panopticon is a letter of warning, a letter of reflection and a recitation of apology. Indeed, Isis accomplishes this all while maintaining a minimal lyric sheet. I’m not sure I’ve everheard a record say so much with so little in the way of lyrics. No, it’s not instrumental, but Aaron Turner uses simple lines (“Backlit” features a lovely “Always on you” line to build the song’s structure). Similarly, the guitar work is measured and phrased in such a way that the band is almost writing a concise story. The “Syndic Calls” guitar breaks are rhytmic and heavy, repeating and building. Like the best post-rock, Panopticon is not afraid of slowly constructing musical phrases.

Every time I listen to Panopticon, I marvel at how layered and beautiful it is, as an album. Relying on anticipation more than anything, the album has an unparalelled tension. Even with the cookie monster growl and a reminder of our fucked up existence, it’s the album of the decade. Both gorgeous and reflective, it’s brilliant.

20.

Band: Mastodon
Album: Leviathan

And so it began.

My relationship with Mastodon began with an album that used a classic American novel as a metaphor for the band’s trials and tribulations. It’s a pretty stupid novelty, but I love the idea of music based on books. So, when I saw the furied whale album cover at, of all places, Target… I bought it.

I’ve probably listened to the full album somewhere in the neighborhood of, 500 times since then. Whereas Blood Mountain has some great tracks (“Colony of Birchmen,” of course, is a classic), there are no mediocre songs on Leviathan. There aren’t any average songs. Every song is good, every song is furious and true, with the wailing (whaling?) musicianship flying out of my headphones.

“Island” thrusts forward, eventually coasting into insanity. “Hearts Alive” is 13 minutes of movements, where “Megalodon” is the kind of exercise in guitar playing that Steve Vai wishes he could have accomplished (the beginning of “Aqua Dementia” would fit this, too).

And those are the lesser songs on the album.

“Blood and Thunder” is one of the band’s signature songs, with a punishing drum sound and a Van Halen-esque guitar breakdown between Bill Kelliher and ex-banjo player Brent Hinds. “I am Ahab” has doubled guitar harmonies, perfect triplet repetition and Troy Sanders’ best singing. “Seabeast” is all shuffle and anger. “Iron Tusk” has the best melodic guitar line this side of Iron Maiden. And “Seabeast.” Oh, “Seabeast.”

This is what metal should be, folks.

19.

Band: Grizzly Bear
Album: Veckatimest

Veckatimest was my favorite non-Mastodon album of the last year, buoyed by a handful of absolutely brilliant champer pop tracks. “Ready, Able” — to cite one — has timing, strings and atmospher-y production to be an awesome Portishead song. But, it also has the emotive songwriting that could be a great Death Cab song. And the combination of it all that makes it almost Radiohead-eque.

“Ready, Able,” by the way, is the third-best song on the album.

18.

Band: Songs:Ohia
Album: The Lioness

A suicide note set to music and the inspiration for what I mistakenly called my “opus.”

17.

Band: Iron & Wine
Album: The Shepherd’s Dog

Nearly the best in a mediocre year of albums, 2007’s The Shepherd’s Dog is no slouch. Sam Beam’s best work shines on the record, with a full band production style missing from his previous work. Beam jumps from genre to genre, all while doing his signature Nick Drake-meets-the-American-South impression.

“Boy With A Coin” is a godsend.

16.

Band: OutKast
Album: Stankonia

There is a stop on the DC Metro (our version of the subway) that serves Springfield, Va. It also serves a neighboring town called Franconia. I always think of this album when I get on the train that goes toward Franconia-Springfield.

—

I hate to continue to dive into the race-card pool, but is this record nearly as popular with black people as it is with white people? I have to think that it’s not. Stankonia is nearly the picture of my Kanye West theory — that any strangeness/introspection/oddities=great for the mostly white rock critic audience that reviews most record — with the Source giving it a good, not great review (four of five stars, though, in its defense, Vibe gave it a 9 of 10). On the other hand, Village Voice, Pitchfork and AV Club have all given it perfect or near-perfect marks. In fact, “B.O.B.” was Pitchfork’s number one track of the decade. Friend of the site Alyssa loves OutKast.

I can’t help but look at OutKast and think “Decemberists.” Great idea, not great in practice. The production on their records is pedestrian, at best. The duo’s flow is choppy, at best. Listening to their records is mostly just a chore. I want to like OutKast — I aspire to the pretentious white rock critic archetype. I really do. But, the duo has one good album, nay, great album.

Ranked — properly, I’d say — 359 on the RS list, this album is great.

15.

Band: Broken Social Scene
Album: You Forgot it in People

Released the year I graduated college, I did not find this record until some years later. This happened largely because I mostly eschewed new music in the immediate time after graduation, especially the critically acclaimed stuff. I’ve recovered and love Arcade Fire, Bloc Party and this record, but lost Animal Collective and TV on the Radio somewhere in the mix.

Anyway, I’ve written about the soft, muffled brilliance that is this albm, mostly wrapped in stories of breakups and weird experiences. I’m always surprised that no one comments on these stories.

14.

Band: Cat Power
Album: You Are Free

Pretty strange that Dave Grohl makes two appearances on my list, neither time for the Foo Fighters. God, I hate that band (save for one fucking brilliant album released a while ago).

—

Framed within the top 100 of Pitchfork’s list, I adore You Are Free. On first listen, I was in love and with each subsequent listen, I enjoy this record as much as that first listen. Like the best lyricists, Chan Marshall’s words can go a million ways, but evoke something in each track.

13.

Band: Yo La Tengo
Album: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out

Yo La Tengo has been a constant in my indie rock life. They were the first band a friend Andrew showed me. It was this album that made me feel like I belonged in college. And it remains a band I enjoy with those important to me.

12.

Band: Kanye West
Album: The College Dropout

There’s no two ways to say it: Kanye West’s debut album is amazing. He isn’t the rapper that, say, Jay-Z is, but he’s a superlative producer and writer. His lyrics are clever, instrospective and conscious. He dances on the line of bizarre commercialism and self-diagnosis on the album, hitting up religion (for the album’s worst song) also for good measure.

“Through the Wire” is an autobiographical dance through the story of West’s car crash that led to his jaw being wired shut. “Two Words” is an anti-establishment romp with guest sots from The Harlem Boys Choir, Freeway and Mos Def. It’s the album’s best track. “All Falls Down,” based on a Lauryn Hill sample, is the most self-reflective song about the black community since Tupac’s “Changes,” only about 100 times better. “Slow Jamz” started West’s stupid love of Jamie Foxx (though, the Twista rap on it is brilliant), yet remains a great song. “The New Workout Plan” is sarcastic and clever. “We Don’t Care” is West’s motivational rap, done first.

The album is catchy. It’s smart. It’s great.

—

Look, Kanye West clearly thinks his shit doesn’t stink, which is annoying. But, he can back it up. He’s flat-brilliant. His writing is clear and smart, emphasizing his own insecurities to make a larger point on tracks like “All Falls Down.” His production is striking and catchy. Yes, he shouldn’t have fucked up Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech at the VMAs. Yes, I’m tired of his blogging. Yes, his fashion line looks ridiculous.

But, as long as he keeps producing records like this one, he’s great. As long as he’s a musician, I want to hear what he’s doing.

11.

Band: Tortoise
Album: It’s All Around You

I’d say that Tortoise’s five proper album is departure, but the brilliance of Tortoise is that the band doesn’t really have a formula from which to depart. The first record was a wonderful post-rock album that largely set the standard for the genre, while 1996’s Millions Now Living Will Never Die started out with a 20-minute song. TNT is tight and worldly, while Standards uses electronics and prog-rock.

The title track of It’s All Around You is among the band’s best songs. It’s an exercise in layered production, with vibes, drums and a brilliant Jeff Parker guitar line leading the way. It’s the best instrumental of the decade, rivaled only by Mogwai’s “Friend of the Night.”

30.

Band: Battles
Album: Mirrored

As previously written, Mirrored is the sound of the future, for worse or for (mostly) better.

(Album preview here.)

29.

Band: Beck
Album: Sea Change

Once of two Beck records to be on the RS 500 list (440), Sea Change still makes me cry. “End of the Day” was part of a terribly difficult time in my life — the record was favored by a close friend who has passed away — and I can’t listen to the song without going back to the days around his passing.

Forgetting the personal aspects, when Beck tries to be super serious guy, he generally doesn’t pull it off. But, Sea Change does. He’s not goofy. He’s not one genre or another. He’s just a man, singing sad sad songs over swirling, glorious arrangements. Lost cause, indeed.

28.

Band: Kanye West
Album: Graduation

While Late Registration was too flashy and 808s & Heartbreak was too emo, Graduation was West’s attempt at stadium rap. He’d toured with U2 and wanted to do what U2 does. Only, you know. Not shitty.

So, he took more electronic influences (“Stronger”), spacey sounds (“I Wonder”) and, shit, Steely Dan (“Champion”) to make something of a personal record. Drawing on inspirational music, he sounds as much like a Hallmark card as a rapper (“If you admire somebody you should go head and tell ’em/ People never get the flowers while they can still smell ’em” from “Big Brother,” for example).

This is not a bad thing. West’s an introspective guy, as his first single ever (a record that will be tackled next week), “Through the Wire” showed. But, on Graduation, he kicks this up a notch. While his first two record were The Wire, his latter two have been Friday Night Lights. Both are brilliant.

27.

Band: Mogwai
Album: Mr. Beast

Mogwai’s music is the most evocative post-rock music ever produced. As intellectual as most post-rock is, Mogwai’s hits you in the emotional parts of your brain. Despite their protests, it’s music to which listeners ascribe every emotion and event. “Friend of the Night” is the example. Haunting and evocative, it’s the record you hear late in the evening, contemplating your next move while tears softly hit the pillow.

26.

Band: Ryan Adams
Album: Heartbreaker

Though he’s no Steve Earle, Ryan Adams’ first solo record is as good as anything Earle has produced. Heartbreaker has Adams modulating between sensitive country guy and sad country guy, with a few uptempo fun numbers thrown in for good measure. “Come Pick Me Up” is one of the saddest, best songs ever written. It’s as pitiful as it is beautiful.

25.

Band: Jay-Z
Album: The Blueprint

Kinda sucks that one of the decade’s great record was released on the decade’s defining day, doesn’t it?

—

I always wonder, in terms of black artists, if the simple formula to gain mainstream acceptance is simply “act in a way that is acceptable to the most white rock critics.”

Now.

That statement is about as loaded as it can get. And maybe every generation of white people finds black culture more acceptable (after we try and co-opt it [coughELVIS-EMINEMcough), so that’s a a moving goalpost altogether. And maybe I’m stretching it.

But.

This white person sees The Blueprint and hears soul samples and Doors samples and Jay-z impersonating Frank Sinatra as much as he is impersonating Rakim (forgetting that I hate Sinatra and love Rakim). That’s not necessarily why I love the record, but I can see why other people like it.

—

Again, there’s some Kanye West/Lil Wayne thing happening here. Jay’s more instrospective on songs like “Heart of the City” and he appears more thoughtful on tracks like “Song Cry.” But, really, The Blueprint is a fucking banging rap record. “Jigga That Nigga” has that great club shuffle, while “Takeover” is a diss track that’s not as blunt as, say, “Hit ‘Em Up.” It’s actually smart. “Izzo (H.O.V.A.)” has the greatest non-Lil Wayne line in rap history (“He who does not feel me is not real to me, therefore he doesn’t exist. So, poof. Vamoose, sonofabitch.”). “Girls, Girls, Girls” has B.I.G.’s listmaking, with the bravado of a lothario, all surrounded by a masterfully sampled Kanye West production (Jackson 5, anyone?).

It’s a great record, black or white.

24.

Band: Calexico
Album: Hot Rail

Tucson’s favorite sons have always combined the best of brash Mexican music and the softer side of American popular folk music, but Hot Rail is the apex.

Hot Rail is a spaghetti western. It’s a facisimile of a West that probably doesn’t exist, full of emotive cowboys — not the terrorizing bank robbers, themselves a fiction — with wild women and fearful scorpions. It’s rapid fire battles and long treks with no starvation and a beautiful dessert. It’s a pleasant old man at the garage to take in your mid-50s Chevy truck with the rounded hood and a local bar owner whose establishment has been passed down through generations.

It’s “Sonic Wind” and “Ballad of Cable Hogue” and “Service and Repair.”

23.

Band: 50 Cent
Album: Get Rich or Die Tryin’

As he showed on his later albums, 50 Cent doesn’t have much of a flow. He’s not an outstanding writer. Outside of Dr. Dre (which is like saying “outside of the home runs, Mark McGwire wasn’t a good player”), he doesn’t work with great people.

Still, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ is a masterful album. Sure, a lot of that is Dr. Dre’s hand. “In da Club” is one of the best club records around, entirely because Dre is the king of that groove. “If I Can’t” bumps like “California Love” because Dre produced both. “Heat.” “Back Down.” Same stuff.

But, 50’s flow fits his thing as well as anyone. Pure “I’m a bad motherfucker” gangster rap was falling out of favor in 2003 (Eminem killed it, partially), and 50’s story — shot nine times, nihilistic philosophy, etc. — coupled well with a very scared American populace made for a great combination. Moreover, 50’s voice is perfect with this combination. Gritty, draped in Kevlar and Hemingway-ly short, 50’s flow is mean.

Indeed, Get Rich or Die Tryin’ is undeniably brutal and kind of mean-spirited. There’s little in the way of fun-loving humor (“I love you like a fat kid loves cake” in the slow jam “21 Questions” being the exception) and the only jokes are almost entirely at the expense of Ja Rule in “Back Down” (sample line: “Your mammy, your pappy, that bitch you chasing/Your little dirty-ass kid, I’ll fucking erase them”). The sad fact, though, is that “Back Down” is a fun song, easy to sing with and fun to listen to.

It’s a harsh world. Get Rich or Die Tryin’ reminded us of that.

—

Just to think out loud here…

50 Cent being shot nine times is folklore now, but do people really know the full details of what happened? He basically snitched on his old crew from Queens, naming names on a record called “Ghetto Qu’ran (Forgive Me).” It was supposed to be a track on his first (never released) record, Power of the Dollar. Well, let’s just throw it to Wikipedia:

According to an affidavit by IRS agent Francis Mace, law enforcement officials believed that the shooting of 50 Cent in 2000 was in retaliation for the lyrics of the song.

Not to get too far into the details of the morality at play regarding snitching, but. What the hell was the point of naming all these people in the song? I am unequivocally for artistic freedom, but I do want to express my criticism on this action. It seems unnecessary on a song that mostly sucks anyway. What’s the gain?

22.

Band: Queens of the Stone Age
Album: Songs for the Deaf

QOTSA, moreso than friends Mastodon, is a band that really opens metal in a way that’s less ridiculous. Indeed, QOTSA doesn’t put out theme records — well, except that for this one — in the way that Mastodon does. Sure, Mastodon is harder (and a better band, really), but it’s no surprise to me that QOTSA are a more popular band. They don’t sing about, like, dragons and shit. And, of course, Josh Homme’s pop sensibility is not without merit.

Songs for the Deaf is notable for its guests, mostly. Mark Lanegan lends his vocals to a bunch of songs, notably the superlative “Hangin’ Tree” and even better “Song for the Dead.” Dean Ween plays guitar on a few songs. More importantly, of course, Dave Grohl’s drumming nearly makes the record. The aforementioned “Song for the Dead” is, basically, a lesson in thump.

The album falls off toward the end — it’s a theme album refelcting driving from Homme’s of Palm Springs up to Los Angeles, with very irritating radio things buffering songs — but the first seven tracks are pure hard rock. Album opener “You Think I Ain’t Worth a Dollar, But I Feel Like a Millionaire” — once you get past the radio bullshit — is furious and screaming, while singles “No One Knows” and “Go With the Flow” are catchy and fun (“Go With the Flow” batters while it massages). “The Sky is Fallin” has a swirling guitar and “Hangin’ Tree” has Lanegan’s best vocal this side of, well, “Song for the Dead.”

21.

Band: Sufjan Stevens
Album: Michigan

Boy, people hate Sufjan Stevens, which is sort of understandable. A friend of mine has said “So, I have a theory that no one who played in a high school concert band can possibly like his stuff,” which is probably true. Stevens puts out heavily arranged songs with far too many instruments for something that is nominally “indie” and “DIY”.”

Though I enjoy said arrangements — I’m basically musically illiterate — they are all fair points. And there is evidence of this on Michigan, the first of Steven’s 50 albums about the 50 states (of course he’s not going to finish it), as even the opener “Flint (For the Unemployed and Underpaid)” has a swarming trumpet.

But even if all those things annoy you — they don’t annoy me. I love Stevens’ descent into arrangment craziness — there is “Romulus,” Stevens’ best song. “Romulus” is not just a beautiful song, but a strinking one about familiar love, parental neglect and desperation, told softly over a picking guitar line and an easy piano. Stevens’ adds his own signature (a banjo, specifically), but his angel-pretty voice is the reason to hear the song. It’s not “Chicago” or eight minutes of “Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head! (Rebuild! Restore! Reconsider!).” It’s simply a really great storyteller singing a beautiful song.

40.

Band: Pinback
Album: Blue Screen Life

As mentioned in the bit about the Raconteurs, this list is often a romp through my life story since Jan. 1, 2000 (and mostly since May 2003, my college graduation). Thhe deeper I go into the list, the more I find the records that soundtracked my daily existance: The Metro, playing video games, girlfriends, whatever.

Blue Screen Life — and this is going to sound weird — is my time at The Washington Post, specifically, the Metro rides there and back. The album was my most listened-to during that time. It seemed that it was the only thing on my iPod at the time. For whatever reason, I needed to hear a song about computers (“Offlinke P.K.”) or a sweet tribute to a dead fish (“Penelope”) or a thumping math-rock song (“Prog”) or the lament of “Boo.”

And, man, it sounds just as good now as it did them. I loved that album and still love it. Angular guitars, two-man vocals and snap drums make for a great record and one that holds up.

39.

Band: Tortoise and Bonnie “Prince” Billy
Album: The Brave and the Bold

When my favorite band and one of the premier songwriters teamed up for a covers album, it was clearly going to be interesting. Though everyone doesn’t agree, I’d argue that the record surpassed even the highest expectations, with interesting arrangements and wonderful playing by everyone involved.

The album is not for the faint of heart, of course. The album starts with a sped-up version of a song by a (obscure, by Americans, at least) Brazilian guitarist. Other bands covered include the horrifying Don Williams, the unctious Richard Thompson and Melanie (of “Brand New Key” fame, though they don’t cover that song). Probably typical for the backgrounds of those involved, they cover Lungfish, Quix*O*Tic and the Minutemen, but moreovers, the highlights are the three most-known artists the band covers: Devo, Springsteen and Elton John. Oldham’s voice on “Daniel” is tender, energetic on “That’s Pep!” and perfectly desperate on “Thunder Road.” Indeed, the cover of the Springsteen classic is stripped of its nonsense and boiled down to a few things: A great lead line brought to the front and played on vintage synths, a start-stop beat and a lyric that yearns for something more.

I’ve heard a bunch of versions of this song and none is one tenth as good as this one. It’s the perfect cover: a reimaging of a song.

38.

Band: Deltron 3030
Album: Deltron 3030

Crappy Roland Emmerich movies aside, the end of the world is a pretty scary concept. Hip hop supergroup Deltron 3030 paints a surprisingly clever and surprisingly possible picture of said event on the group’s self-titled 2000 release. I love the album and believe it to be Del tha Funkee Homosapien’s best work and among Dan the Automator’s, as well. “Virus” is amazing.

Indeed, it’s kind of easy to forget, but a lot of people were really scared that the entire grid was going to explode on Dec. 31, 1999. Of course, that was all overreaction, but people were genuinely scared. Ah, 1999. You seem so long ago.

37.

Band: Cat Power
Album: The Covers Record

Because an album can’t be in the top 10 based on one song, I’ll just say that “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” is the best cover song ever recorded. Anyone who compares it disfavorably to the original completely misses the point.

This was actually the album that introduced me to Cat Power. Released my freshman year of college, it was reviewed at our station by one of my idols, a dude named John. He spoke of its charms and I finally picked up on the beauty that is Chan Marshall’s voice. I’ve been in love since.

36.

Band: 90 Day Men
Album: To Everybody

I could’ve sworn that I’ve written about this album before, but it appears I have not. I guess I’ve started to write about To Everybody a few times and stopped or something, the mark of a truly great, undescribable album.

Indeed, to say To Everybody is math rock is to say that, like, Tha Carter III is a hip hop record. Sure, yeah. It is a math rock record, but it’s so much more. It’s what the form should be.

What similarly striking is that To Everybody is a small moment in time for 90 Day Men, not a great band. Their others records are passable for what they are, but th turgid repetitivness of Panda Park was largely unbearable and a direct contrast to the dynamism of purpose and lyrical interest shown on To Everybody.

And those opening seconds of “I’ve Got Designs on You?” Pure cacaphonic heaven.

35.

Band: Jens Lekman
Album: Night Falls Over Kortedala

The longest unpublished thing to come from my metaphoric pen would be the piece from over the summer on this album. My girlfriend had just broke my heart and left town for three weeks. That sort of thing’ll mess with even the strongest, healthy person. For a self-involved idiot like me? Bad times. Basically, I took Lekman’s gorgeous chamber pop album, parsed nearly every word and tried to apply it to my own heartbreak. It took me a week to write, and three edits.

That I could extrapolate that much from a record is not a testament to my lunacy as much as it is a testament to the album’s grandiosity. It should probably be higher.

34.

Band: Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan
Album: Ballad of the Broken Seas

I really underwrote this album when I reviewed it originally. Campbell’s voice is heavenly and bounces off Lanegan’s Tom Waits impression to huge success. The guitar work is intricate and the arrangements are really lush. Moreover, “Revolver” is a counfounding, cryptic song. The lyrics are hard to figure and the harmonies are just off.

It’s also among the 10 or 20 best songs released this decade.

33.

Band: Justin Timberlake
Album: Justified

Justin Timberlake’s debut album showed the world that he wasn’t just another pretty face and a nice dance step. Working with some great producers — Timbaland and Pharrell, specifically — Timberlake was a revelation, a blue-eyed soul singer to actually enjoy.

“Rock Your Body” is pure sugar, but brilliant in its joy. “Senorita,” silly as it sounds, lodges itself into your brain and “(And She Said) Take Me Now” has that great stutter that often eludes hip hop. “Like I Love You” has a great guest appearance from Clipse and “Take It From Here” is the slow jam for the ladies.

These songs are all good and well, but “Cry Me a River” is the breakup song to end all breakup songs. Likely written about Britney Spears, the song’s production is pure Timbaland, with little synths and shuffling beats. Timberlake’s voice gets into a crazy falsetto range that, on its own, is strange. In the song? It’s a perfect ache.

32.

Band: Ludacris
Album: Back for the First Time

When I first moved out here, “Act the Fool” (from some dopey soundtrack). was unendingly popular. The only two radio stations of which I was aware were the top 40 station (Hot 99.5) and the sports radio station (Sport/Talk 980, which is now ESPN 980), so I heard “Act the Fool” about 1,000,000 times that summer. It sucked.

Which is sort of crazy, because Ludacris’ first major record is so very good. Back for the First Time — an album largely culled from the independently released Incognegro — is a revelation. Save for troll (well, only in looks. I’m sure he’s a nice fellow, but, man is he ugly) Jermaine Dupree and one track by the Neptunes, Back for the First Time is self-produced or produced by Atlanta-based Bangladesh.

Beats schmeats. As a friend recently said of “What’s Your Fantasy?” “This song is repetitve.” The key is that Ludacris is the Drew Magary of hip hop, dropping loving references, blunt object phrasing and overall smiley fun to hip hop. Indeed, there is a distinct lack of humor in hip hop — a smirk every six months from Jay-Z and a DXM-induced giggle from Lil Wayne do not count — and Ludacris is nothing if not funny. “Ho” is a three-minute joke, while “What’s Your Fantasy?” is the first goofy sex rap with the oustanding “pick up your thighs and call me the Pac Man” line said with a wink and a smile.

Sure, “Southern Hospitality” isn’t drop-down funny, but the video sure is. He dies! He’s upside down! Awesome.

31.

Band: The Shins
Album: Oh, Inverted World

The album that launched Zack Braff’s idea (also mine) that he knows something about music.

50.

Band: Wale
Album: The Mixtape About Nothing

In making the list, I said I wasn’t going to put any mixtapes on this list — Lil Wayne would’ve been a bigger presence, for sure — but I just couldn’t put a list of great music of the 2000s without this record. Living here in DC, Wale is a big fucking deal. He’s really talented and is a huge part of the DC hip-hop scene, whatever that is. He calls himself Wale Ovechkin, echoing the city’s one great athlete.

—

I know I keep saying that I don’t feel comfortable with some of the positions on this list and I’m sorry about repeating that. I really put this thing together in a short amount of time and any list of 100 is going to have regrettable placements.

I’m not sure I’m so uncomfortable with this placement, but something keeps eating at me. Mostly that Seinfeld is among my favorite TV shows and to have Wale produce a record that revolves around that… I mean, come on.

The album is great. It follows the show’s convention of using the article “The” before every song, with “The Cliche Lil Wayne Feature (It’s the Remix Baby!)” using Wale’s “Nike Boots” track as the basis for an outstanding pairing (one that most certainly cost Wale a lot of money). On the record, Wale is introspective and grownup — indeed, “The Grown Up” samples the “We’re not men!” speech from the show as a backdrop for Wale’s personality crises. “The Kramer” examines racism, both in and out of hip hop, while “The Bmore Club Slam” uses that genre to craft an excellent track. “The Artistic Integrity” has Wale examining his our muse and his ability to get the message that he wants out clearly.

And so it goes. Wale is a tortured artist, on some level, and by using the great “show about nothing” to work out something about himself.

49.

Band: Okkervil River
Album: The Stand Ins

I’ve covered this ground already, but Okkervil River’s second album about fame is dark, smart and catchy. “Lost Coastlines” is among the best songs of 2008, if not the best.

48.

Band: Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
Album: Shake the Sheets

Another record I’ve covered, but Shake the Sheets is a really great record with tons of energy. It’s Leo’s best record and his subsequent records have been pretty crappy.

47.

Band: Arcade Fire
Album: Funeral

Universally, Funeral is acclaimed. Its metacritic score (90) is ridiclously high and just about everyone has the record near the top of their lists, both of the decade and of 2004.

But, it’s more than just the things that make critics enjoy it. It’s finely assembled, beginning with the lovely string arrangement that stars in album opener “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels).” “Une Annee Sans Lumiere” is layered, vocally, with a quick pace and a lovely guitar.

Lyrically, it dances around, all with themes strong enough to hold attention. “Neighborhood #2 (Laika)” has the ability to fully grasp a suicidal depression with which many of us are all too familiar. “Crown of Love” is forlorn while “Rebellion (Lies)” is plangry (angry and pleading), a combination emotion that few bands can pull off. “Une Annee Sans Lumiere” describes band home Montreal. “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)” even strikes the tone of a band looking toward adulthood.

At times, it’s more impressive intellectually than it is in practice. As in, I don’t listen to it as much as I do the albums ahead of it on the list. Still, every time I listen to Funeral, I enjoy it.

46.

Band: Mastodon
Album: Blood Mountain

No question, Mastodon’s one of my favorite bands. Blood Mountain is the most uneven of the three Mastodon records I have on the list, with several forgettable songs, though none are bad, per se.

Of course, it remains on this list (and midway through it, too) because of a few great tracks. “Colony of Birchmen” is certainly in the “best Mastodon track” conversation, as is “The Wolf is Loose.”

I wrote about it here and I don’t disagree with most of that review. Crack the Skye and Leviathan are far better.

45.

Band: Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s
Album: The Dust of Retreat

Though not necessarily special, there’s something very warm about The Dust of Retreat. It’s not challenging and it’s not boring, but rather something in the middle. It is nearly flawless in presentation and content (that stupid kitten song notwithstanding). It is, in many ways, the apex of the sensitive guy indie rock form.

44.

Band: Neko Case
Album: Middle Cyclone

I really thought more people would respond to what I wrote surrounding (I don’t say “about” because the piece isn’t really about the record) Middle Cyclone, but they didn’t. So it goes, I guess.

Anyway, the album is really quite striking and since its spring release, was touted as the best of 2009. I do love the album, though I’ve not picked it up since I saw her in the spring touring the record.

43.

Band: Pedro the Lion
Album: Winners Never Quit

David Bazan’s fire and brimstone sprirituality comes through on this 2000 album, as he constructs a plotline to an album decrying politics, its world and the temptations therein. As he said in an interview after the record was released:

This record is a complete, connected narrative from the first to last song. There was a theme I wanted to communicate: Damnation for the arrogant, judgment for the judgmental.

Bazan has a clear view of right and wrong (I think he’s since been unborn or whatever it is when you’re no longer a born-again) and the record provides that. Moreover, the record sounds great, like a Red House Painters album narrated by Damien Jurado. Bazan’s baritone is sparse when it needs to be, warbly when he gets angry and desperate when needed. “Bad Things to Such Good People” is probably his best song, with “A Mind of Her Own” a close second.

Despite its mediocre reviews, I continue to love this album.

—

As I found myself listening to this album (and, honestly, Funeral), it just reminded me as to how hard putting together this list was. I sped through it and probably put a lot of records in the wrong order. Here’s the thing, though: Anything in the top 50 or so is a really good album and anything in the top 25 is a near-perfect track. I love every single one of these records. Funeral is at 47 because I don’t listen to it as much as I probably should and Winners Never Quit is one I don’t enjoy as much as I used to, largely due to age (both mine and the age of the record).

So, that’s to say that I love all these records.

42.

Band: The Raconteurs
Album: Broken Boy Soldiers

There was a period in my life, I shit you not, in which I would’ve put this album at no. 1. No joke. There was, probably, a six-month time wherein I listened to this album every day. I loved this record and continue to think it is the best thing Jack White’s done.

Now? I love the record and every time I listen to it, I enjoy it. That’s pretty high praise, no doubt, but I don’t know that it’s anything other than a really fun rock and roll record. That’s great, sure, but it’s nothing to write home about. I probably should’ve put, say, Funeral higher.

Still, it’s melodic and fun. White’s simplistic songwriting is augmented well by Brendan Benson’s tinkering from all sides. Their back and forth vocals make “Level” so great and “Yellow Sun” so chipper. “Store Bought Bones” is the best garage rock song to be released post-1969. The title track is whiny and fanastic and lead single “Steady as She Goes” breaks no barriors, but rules nonetheless.

41.

Band: Sleater-Kinney
Album: The Woods

With One Beat, Sleater-Kinney evolved and on the band’s final album, they were complete. Incorporating a production style more reminiscient of Hendrix than Bikini Kill, the band’s only Sub Pop release is furious and full. Really, who would’ve thought that S-K could’ve put out an 11-minute song?

Corinn Tucker’s voice is at its best on “Night Light,” as good an album ender as existed in the decade. “The Fox” shows her scream as well, with “Roller Coaster” showing all the angular guitar-y-ness of Modest Mouse. What a record and what away to go out.

60.

Band: Outkast
Album: The Love Below/Speakerboxx

OK, complete honesty here: I don’t love Outkast. More and more I think they fit my Kanye West/Lil Wayne theory of white journalists liking hip hop: it’s graded on a certain curve. The dudes in OutKast are, essentially, hipsters (not unlike Common, see below) and journalists fancy them more than, say, Jay-Z. Jay, by the way, is infinitely more talented.

Nevertheless, I think doing a double album not long after the duo’s greatest success (and excellent album) is ballsy and interesting. The problem is that the music isn’t nearly as good as that on Stankonia (an album I love and one that you’ll see high up on this list in a few weeks).

“Hey Ya” is a lovely little number, no doubt. “The Way you Move” is catchy and Sleepy Brown’s voice sounds great. “Roses” isn’t much. “GhettoMusick” is decent enough. Otherwise, it’s a whole bunch of nothing interesting.

59.

Band: Lily Allen
Album: It’s Not Me, It’s You

As mentioned in the introduction to this list (and, really, just about everything I’ve written about music and fancied interesting, though, surely it is not interesting), the way music soundtracks our lives is the driving force in our views of said music. It’s hard to separate yourself from that; Pete Yorn, despite his general blandness, will always mean something to me ebcause of the college road trip a girlfriend and I took while he sang through my stereo.

I was introduced to It’s Not Me, It’s You through traditional means but one notable moment involved my defiantly putting it on as a (mostly unspoken) deal was agreed upon. Time limits were imposed, imbalances struck and that was that. All we had left to do was finish those final 50 miles and get home. Deal with the consequences later.

I’d say it ruined the record, but it didn’t. Bad times one spends with a record shouldn’t define the record. It may be human nature to associate one memory with the record, but the whole of your experience with the record creates a fuller understand and appreication of it. Just because the end of something was horrible doesn’t mean the intial moments and middle portions aren’t life-affirming and beautiful. It’s good to remind ourselves of this sometimes.

(I bet you didn’t expect to read “Ross Gianfortune: Motivational speaker,” did you?)

58.

Band: T.I.
Album: King

I like T.I. enough to put him on here, but I’m not really confident with this album being here. Paper Trail could’ve gone here; Maybe Trap Muzik would’ve been a better choice.

Either way, I find King to be the record on which T.I. really found his voice. “What You Know” is defiant in the way T.I. only can be, while “Top Back” is a great boast record. “Why You Wanna” is among T.I.’s best records, as well.

Really, it’s about as good a collection of songs that T.I. has ever put out.

57.

Band: Nine Inch Nails
Album: The Slip

“This one’s on me.”

So wrote Trent Reznor in 2008 in announcing the release of a free record. All one needed to get the album was an e-mail address and an internet connection.

Considering his previous experiment in distribution, Ghosts I-IV, was a revelation — according to some reports, Reznor made hundreds of thousands of dollars on the release — Reznor’s nod to the fans was excellent. It appeared — as opposed to Radiohead’s In Rainbows “pay what you want” experiment — that Reznor figured it out.

But, moreover, Ghosts was an atmosphere album, sounding more like the filler tracks on The Fragile than actually like the taut brilliance of Broken and With Teeth.

(Of course, Reznor’s opus The Downward Spiral combined the two to near-perfect results.)

The Slip, rather than working in strings and lush, takes off where With Teeth and Year Zero leave. The songs are tight and aggressive, with political content coming from Reznor’s sidekick. In classic Reznor fashion, the lyrics are brooding and over-the-top, as he contemplates killing himself and others throughout the record. Taking from Depeche Mode and Bauhaus, the Slip is danceable and fun.

56.

Band: Camera Obscura
Album: Let’s Get Out of This Country

Belle and Sebastian are perfectly pleasant, but Camera Obscura is far better at that style of music. Let’s Get out of This Country is, at times, sweet and saccharine, but aching and pretty at other times. Chamber pop isn’t complex, but Camera Obscura’s version is as evocative as it comes.

55.

Band: Smog
Album: Dongs of Sevotion

Armed with his best band (jazz bassist Matt Lux and Tortoise members John McEntire and Jeff Parker), Bill Callahan put out a solid Smog record. Most of his post-2000 output has been spotty — the albums under his own name both just missed this list — but Dongs of Sevotion sits among Julius Caesar, Red Apple Falls and Wild Love as Callahan’s best.

“Dress Sexy at My Funeral” has the odd logic of earlier Smog record, but without the Jandek-esque out of tune problems. “Bloodflow” has the odd cheerleading and Callahan’s baritone. “Distance” is misanthropic and weird, while “Strayed” is among Callahan’s most personal tracks.

54.

Band: Band of Horses
Album: Cease to Begin

“No One’s Gonna Love You” is one of the best songs I’ve ever heard. Mistakenly (though, admittedly, not that mistakenly), I lauded Iron & Wine’s “Boy With a Coin” as the best song of 2007. It’s not.

“No One’s Gonna Love You” is so beautiful. I don’t think Ben Bridwell has a great voice, but on this one song, he belts it out. The easy guitar surrounds him. The rhytymn section is tight. The lyric aches with resigned sadness. It’s perfect.

53.

Band: Common
Album: Be

I’m a certain type of person and Be hits me in the places where it should. As I’ve written about Kanye West and Lil Wayne, a rapper simply needs to be not sexist and violent and even mildly self-reflexive to be attractive to this certain type of person.

Common is kind of in a funny place for this to work. On one hand, he’s not superbly talented — good writing, mediocre flow, works with mediocre producers. On the other hand, he is a smart writer and on Be, working with fellow Chicagoan West, the results are pretty good. The record has its bad tracks, but “The Food,” “The Corner” and “Real People” are hearty and excellent.

52.

Band: Justin Timberlake
Album: Futuresex/Lovesounds

I’ve already touched on this record here, so, let me quote myself.

Justin Timberlake is, no doubt, this type of person. His immense talent is mostly in “packaging” things — his voice, his bone structure, his dance skills — and not in the creative places like his songwriting (bleah) or production skills (bleah). So, instead, he chooses to work with those more skilled than he and puts out good records.

Even better, Timberlake doesn’t seem to feel the need to stick his nose in everything or release an album every five minutes. He appears in a movie here and there, but he doesn’t guest on every record under the sun. It’s kind of nice to know that Justin Timberlake appears to enjoy being Justin Timberlake.

I stand by this. Futuresex/Lovesounds is a really fun record and better than most of the things on the radio. Timberlake is talented.

—

Appropos of nothing, the name of this album is cumbersome. This fact probably knocked it down a position or two on this list.

51.

Band: Death Cab for Cutie
Album: Transatlanticism

I struggle with my fandom of this band, as I’ve written. And though I probably enjoy their albums as much as any other band, simple shame (I don’t want to be lumped in with the teenage girls and skinny boys) has kept all but two albums off the list.

Transatlanticism is, like all Death Cab records, strikingly emotional and more evocative than the law allows. “The New Year” explains the complaint we all have about party holidays: any time you’re supposed to have fun is disappointing, as Gibbard intones the opening lines: “So, this is the new year/and I don’t feel any different.” “Title and Registration” is one of Death Cab’s signature songs, with a moderately-paced melancholy guitar line. The much-televised “Sound of Settling” (The OC made it big, guys!) is spunky with it’s “bob-pa” chorus (the song was also on the soundtrack for Wedding Crashers). “We Looked Like Giants” is a standout, as well, notching five and a half minutes of anticipation. It is, to make an odd comparison, Death Cab’s “Dazed and Confused.”

Again, I like everything this band has done. I should’ve included more albums on the list, but this will do. One near the top. One near the middle.

70.

Band: Tara Jane O’Neil
Album: Peregrine

I admit I’m too much of a slave to my own tastes. TJO is an early musical crush of mine and I saw her touring this record in college. The “City in the North”/”City in the South” diad is beautiful and TJO’s voice sounds as delicate and pretty as it ever has on this record.

69.

Band: Andrew Bird
Album: Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs

Andrew Bird makes art. His music is largely inaccessible, forgettable or both. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a wonderful songwriter and a favorite of the Chicago hipster set, but his music is hard to enjoy for someone not well-versed in Andrew Bird.

This record was his breakout, though. His final Righteous Babe release, Bird’s violin is toned down, his songwriting is clever and imaginative and his voice is brilliant. He’s able to move around between crooning, talking and straight-up singing. And his guitar work is lovely. “A Nervous Tic Motion of the Head to the Left” is among his best.

68.

Band: Radiohead
Album: Amnesiac

It’s hilarious that the most celebrated band of recent vintage has a record that everyone seems to hate. Though, in reality, no one really hates it. It just garners e-mails (like I received from a friend recently) that read “Sometimes I write off Amnesiac. It’s making me feel pretty okay at the moment.”

Amnesiac‘s opening number — the wonderfully-named “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box” — is fucking amazing. “I Might Be Wrong” may be Radiohead’s best song. “Pyramid Song” is a stellar song and “Morning Bell/Amnesiac” is near-perfect. That people see Amnesiac as a disappointment and Kid A as a triumph is a tragedy. Amnesiac is better.

67.

Band: The Arcade Fire
Album: Neon Bible

I don’t like Springsteen, but I love Neon Bible. Figure that out.

66.

Band: Kelly Clarkson
Album: Breakaway

I’ve never been much of an American Idol watcher. I’ve seen, in total, maybe two hours of the show in five minute bits in between laundry, as my old laundromat’s TV was always fixated on the show (which, I believe, Fox runs three nights a week during its season). Anyway, the point is that I didn’t know Kelly Clarkson when her second record came out. I vaguely knew she’d won the competition, but, I didn’t know her story and I’m still unclear as to how she won the whole thing.

Nevertheless, in the subsequent years, Clarkson has been absolutely killed in the gossip pages for her weight, her vey sporadic drunken antics at shows and her general, well, regular-ness. In a way, I feel sorta protective of her; she was (I think) a bar singer who won a talent show and ended up being covered in a way that fits someone like Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian.

Kelly Clarkson is not really very pretty. QED. She’s not thin. QED. She’s also very talented.

Breakaway is, in many ways, hard to define, as a record. For one, it’s clearly been filtered through, I’m sure, at least 50 people at RCA before release. Still, the hooks on the record are undeniable and — though label approved — there is an edge on the record that did not exist on her debut. “Gone,” “Walk Away,” “Behind These Hazel Eyes” and “Since U Been Gone” are all fun rock songs that — because rock and roll is essentially dead — are largely missing in modern music.

65.

Band: Bon Iver
Album: For Emma, Forever Ago

After having been called “irresistible” by The New York Times, it’s hard to top the praise for Justin Vernon’s record. Yes, the newspaper was hyperbolic in its praise; most of the press has been far too effusive in writing about For Emma, Forever Ago. As I’ve written, it’s a really nice record with an amazing back story.

But, then again. “Flume.” “Skinny Love.” Game over.

64.

Band: The Sea and Cake
Album: One Bedroom

For a band that remains one of my favorites, it wasn’t really easy to pick a best record of the four released during the decade. Really, The Sea and Cake doesn’t do much in the way of variety; differences in releases are subtle and each of the four 2000s albums has a place in my heart. One Bedroom excited me, largely because the band’s previous release was somewhat disappointing.

And, as such, TSAC delivered. The cover of Bowie’s “Sound and Vision” is the the finale of a record that’s pleasantly challenging. McEntire’s drumming is as crisp as it is anywhere and the stuttering Archer Prewitt guitarwork is at the top of its game. And, of course, Sam Prekop has the voice of an angel.

Album preview here.

63.

Band: Fleet Foxes
Album: Fleet Foxes

I don’t love the Fleet Foxes record in the same way others do, but it’s a lovely album that deserves about 70% of the critical acclaim that has followed it. Vocally, it’s distinct, but, musically, it takes from Love and other such chamber pop of 1960s. It’s a well-worn concept, but a well-done one on Fleet Foxes.

62.

Band: Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins
Album: Rabbit Fur Coat

I love Jenny Lewis’ two (sorta) solo records, though I understand that she’s not exactly for everyone. Rabbit Fur Coat hits the usual Lewis targets — religion, class, etc. — and the Watson Twins provide pitch-perfect harmonies. “You Are What You Love” is among my favorite songs and a truer lyric likely hasn’t been sung.

61.

Band: Bloc Party
Album: Silent Alarm

Released on my 24th birthday, Bloc Party’s debut album is striking in its brilliance. It has New Wave jaunts, insane vocal delivery and a Camus-esque philosohpy of the absurd. I am absolutely sure I’ve underrated it on this list, but, honestly, I haven’t listened to the album in over six months.

“Helicopter” is among the best songs released this decade, if not the single best song released in the 2000s. The guitar line is hypnotic and frantic, the drumming Keith Moon-esque and the shouty vocals wonderful.

The series continues after the jump.

80.

Band: The Donnas
Album: Spend the Night

I make no secret that I believe the Internet to be mankind’s greatest invention. One of its many great contributions to humanity and society at large is that the notion — probably fostered by media in the 1990s — of musical taste being boxed into a genre or two. Hippies listen to jam bands, punkers listen to punk, jocks listen to nu-metal, classic rock is for your parents, etc. Blogs like Pitchfork and Stereogum — hipster publications, no doubt — often tout the merits of mainstream bands (see Pitchfork’s coverage of Dave Frohl’s latest project).

So, I guess this doesn’t apply as much as it used to, but there are a few bands I really enjoy that may not fit what someone might see as my tastes. I certainly project certain bands I love and they remain my absolute favorites. Lil’ Wayne. Death Cab for Cutie. Slint. Tortoise. Mastodon. Black Sabbath. Isis. The Sea and Cake. The Beatles. Sufjan. Mogwai. Pink Floyd. No real surprises, all those bands occupy a “classic” thing or some indie rock thing. Nine Inch Nails surprises some people and was something of a guilty pleasure for many years. Coldplay surprises some people, but, really, I don’t Coldplay. I just think they get unfairly maligned.

However, there are definitely two bands I love that surprise everyone. Tom Petty is one. I think Tom Petty is fucking amazing — every one of his singles makes me smile. Yes, I hate middle of the road dad-rock, but I think Petty’s music, for whatever reason, rises above that distinction. I always get quizzical looks when I tell people I love Petty.

The other is the Donnas. I imagine that’s because the Donnas are, for all intents and purposes, a band of no consequence. They were never really popular — they got dropped from their label after Gold Medal because no one bought it — and most people only know them from their sorta novelty covers of hard rock hits (“Dancing with Myself,” “Strutter” and “Livin’ After Midnight” come to mind). Or maybe people know the Donnas from their early records, clearing jailbaiting it up.

But, I love the Donnas. I don’t tend to like punk rock, but the Donnas occupy that space just a little to the complex side of punk rock — such great guitar solos — and are just a hard rock band that liks to sing about partying. They’re like Kiss, only chicks and not crappy. No pretense. Like Andrew W.K., only not a completely crazy Michigander.

Spend the Night is 13 songs about drinking, making out with dudes and having fun. It’s not brain surgery, but it is outstandingly catchy and outstandingly fun.

79.

Band: The White Stripes
Album: Elephant

The White Stripes are something of a stupid person’s Radiohead. They were the “it” band of the decade, in a lot of ways, but did so by blatantly ripping off the Kinks and early blues riffs. Lo-fi as they are, Jack White can write a riff.

Nevertheless, Elephant is the pinnacle of the band’s powers. Where Icky Thump was self-indulgent and White Blood Cells was unrefined, Elephant is neither. I’ve written about it before, but it remains a very enjoyable listen.

78.

Band: Jim O’Rourke
Album: Insignificance

I’m sort of a sucker for O’Rourke’s misanthropic, taut songwriting. Considering his ex-status as “indie rock man about town,” O’Rourke’s hook should be less than they are and songs like “All Downhill from Here” just show that off.

77.

Band: Iron & Wine
Album: Our Endless Numbered Days

It’s no secret I love Iron & Wine. On his second album, Sam Beam slowly moves toward a more Nick Drake future by moving outside of the American South into the rest of nation’s musical traditions. Our Endless Numbered Days is forward and lovely. “Naked As We Came” is one of his best tracks.

76.

Band: Beyonce
Album: Dangerously in Love

It’s kind of easy to forget now — she’s, obviously, one of music’s biggest stars now — but Beyonce’s first album was looked at with some skepticism when it came out. After all, a solo album from a girl group lead woman was seen as risky.

Indeed, this record helped make her into the superduperstar she is now. The album’s bombastic title track propelled Dangerously in Love to the top of the charts and the video made her face even moreso. The song is awesome and, really, the first three songs (all singles) are near-unstoppable. “Naughty Girl” is another club jam, though smoother and “Baby Boy” features Sean Paul and makes him somewhat listenable. That’s really something.

Nevertheless, the record’s second half is largely ballads, which Beyonce nails. The record has R&B tracks, more hip hop-influenced stuff and those ballads. It’s varied and enjoyable. Like the Rihanna record, it’s the kind of thing everyone puts on, in order to get a party going.

75.

Band: Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Album: Fever to Tell

I cannot decide if the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are wildly overrated or properly rated as a band. When the band’s first record was released, they were seen as a New York “it” band, based on a number of EPs and a music press-approved slew of information (Vegan! Mixed-race, sorta hot chick lead singer! From Brooklyn! Met at Oberlin!). Fever to Tell was released amid all that stuff swirling around the atmosphere.

Still, sometimes, the hype overshadows the actual record. Karen O is hot for an indie rock star (see also Case, Neko and Feist, Leslie), but not actually attractive. Her intonation varies very little; she either screams like a cat getting brained or uses her lowish register to detach herself from the lyric.

Of course, one of the 10 or so best songs of the decade comes from her vocal, the penultimate Fever to Tell track, “Maps.” It’s an unstoppable song.

74.

Band: The Shins
Album: Wincing the Night Away

Like so many other bands, the Shins don’t do much outside of normal rock and roll. On some level, that’s annoying, as I’d prefer my music to have even the tiniest interesting thing about it. But, it’s hard to hate the Shins. The Shins are Zach Braff’s middle-of-the-road wet dream, having made eminently pleasant records. The Shins are the best and most accessible of a certain type of band — literate, smart, easy guitar-based stuff. It’s the type of music NPR listeners like.

I saw the Shins this past spring and my companion and I both had the same reaction: It was good. It wasn’t as good as the Yo La Tengo show we’d seen later in the summer. It wasn’t half as good as the Neko Case show we’d seen earlier in the spring. It was pleasant.

Wincing the Night Away is hardly the best record in the world, but it’s a really nice group of songs.

73.

Band: Bright Eyes
Album: LIFTED or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground

Whenever a songwriter is compared to Bob Dylan, it’s easy to recoil, but I’ll say this: Conor Oberst is a strong songwriter and not a great singer, just like that nasally dude from Minnesota. LIFTED is the last of his original sounding record, when he was still acting the angry teenager, throwing tantrums and screaming about lost love, the opressive world and the everyday. “Waste of Paint” is brilliant and “Let’s Not Shit Ourselves (To Love and to Be Loved)” is far better than it should be.

72.

Band: Bonnie “Prince” Billy
Album: Master and Everyone

Great songwriter, even better beard.

71.

Band: Dianogah
Album: Millions of Brazilians

Dianogah’s brand of post-rock is both unique and comforting at the same time. The band dances around time signatures, but never rocks out fully. Two bassists and a drummer make for a unique sound, but hardly anything that makes you recoil.

On the band’s third LP, Jay Ryan, Jason Harvey and Kip McCabe really destroy it. “Take Care, Olaf” — named after a signature at the end of an international fan letter — is lovely and “Maria, Which Has Got Her Heart Completely Fucked Up” is among the band’s greatest songs.

90.

Band: Nelly
Album: Country Grammar

There’s something invariably important about the music that soundtracks our existence. In writing up this list, I knew I had to put Country Grammar on here somewhere; I’m not even close to OK as to the placement of this record here at 90.

It’s not that I love Country Grammar. Because, really, I don’t. I actually found it unendingly annoying when it came out. You see, I went to school at the University of Missouri and Country Grammar was released between my freshman and sophomore years. A great plurality of Mizzou students are from St. Louis and it’s not exactly an arty campus. Lots of “I only listen to what’s on the radio” types.

So.

Every party I attended — well, the ones not hosted by pretentious radio types — bumped “Country Grammar (Hot Shit),” “E.I.” or “Ride Wit Me” at some point in the night. I heard it when I would drive to St. Louis for baseball games or to visit my then-girlfriend’s family over the summer. I would hear it in my fucking dreams.

And you know something? Those singles are infectious. “Ride Wit Me” is fun, “E.I” is jiggly and the title track has the sing song/nursery rhyming vocals of the best hip hop. Nelly’s not a great MC, but, boy he caught lightning in a bottle with “Country Grammar (Hot Shit).”

And, as such, this was the decade that defined my growing up. The albums here helped make me who the young adult I am now; I was 19-28 during this decade. During the first third of the decade, I was in college, working at the radio station, ingesting as much music as possible. This decade is my wheelhouse.

I mostly included albums I love and sought out for my top 100. Country Grammar was foisted upon me. And you know what? I’m kind of happy about that now.

89.

Band: The Dixie Chicks
Album: Taking the Long Way

The first album I wrote up on my albums blog, Taking the Long Way is a record that works well on a few levels. The Dixie Chicks made an angry, charged record with Rick Rubin’s hand at the wheel.

It’s not my normal type of music; I don’t tend to like country music much and middle-of-the-road pop music generally bores me. Still, their politics and work with Rubin piqued my interest.

88.

Band: The Mountain Goats
Album: The Life Of The World To Come

I’ve never enjoyed the Mountain Goats, as John Darnielle’s voice gets a little whiny for my tastes. But, on the 17th Mountain Goats record, Darnielle’s literacy hits the Bible as he names every track after a verse, then writes a song around said verse.

That’s not the say the record is even religious in a sense that the songwriting bases itself around Jesus or Moses or whoever. Indeed, Darnielle weaves narrators and song subjects through themes; in “Ezekiel 7 And The Permanent Efficacy Of Grace,” Darnielle takes the verse’s apocalyptic torrents and creates a hostage situation, mostly absent of the God’s presence. “John 4:16” is an exploration of love, though not necessarily that of God’s love. It’s smart, it’s clever. It’s amazing.

87.

Band: Songs:Ohia/Magnolia Electric Co.
Album: Magnolia Electric Co.

Jason Molina’s name thing seems to be in flux far too much, but nevertheless, the final Songs:Ohia release (or maybe the first Magnolia Electric Co. release) counts among his best work. Working with Steve Albini, Molina explores his love of Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen, “Farewell Transmission” may be Molina’s best song.

86.

Band: Badly Drawn Boy
Album: About a Boy

I loved this record when it came out. It’s faded into the memory of “things I used to enjoy, but stopped loving.” I’m not really sure why. Badly Drawn Boy probably didn’t make it as big as he should’ve because he is not a handsome man. When you play mostly pleasant music that breaks zero barriers for a neutered Nick Hornby movie soundtrack, you’d better be pretty handsome or outstandingly talented. Sadly, Damon Gough looks like this:

85.

Band: Rilo Kiley
Album: More Adventurous

I’ve already covered this particular piece of ground, but I will add that More Adventurous is easily Rilo Kiley’s best record. The record finds the band in transition between quaint indie rock outfit it was on previous albums to the LA rock glammy rock outfit that gave us Under the Blacklight.

84.

Band: M.I.A.
Album: Kala

In addition to being a really bumping record, Kala is a picture of urban living in this decade. M.I.A.’s influences are vast and her chanting/singing is somewhere between Eastern and Western hemispheres. She’s British by way of Sri Lankan immigrant parents and has co-opted as much from hip hop as she has from the subcontinent. In literal terms, she reflects so much of the changing world. She’s politically active, she tweets hours after she has her baby. She performs on stage with Kanye West, Lil Wayne, T.I. and Jay-Z, showing that a woman can play in the same game as four male rap giants. She wears gaudy, bright colors and her album cover is a wreck. She’s the carry out naan place in downtown DC; she’s the wonderful subcontinental food in central London. She’s Slumdog Millionaire, the soundtrack of which her record appear.

She is this decade.

As with the Nelly record, I am not comfortable with Kala‘s placement on this list. Ultimately, as personal blogger, this record should be in the 80s; I don’t listen to it much.

83.

Band: R. Kelly
Album: Chocolate Factory

In February 2002, R. Kelly was accused of having sex with a 14-year-old girl. Not just that. He was, supposedly, peeing on the girl. This made Kelly the butt of many, many jokes, most of which he didn’t take well. He’s not a man known for his sense of humor.

Of course, the scandal also gave us one of the most hilarious things Dave Chappelle ever did (non-Rick James division). It’s perfect if only because it’s so close to a R. Kelly song:

What’s so great about R. Kelly is that, amid all this swirling scandal, record an album. Chocolate Factory is a brilliant piece of soul music, with Kelly’s vocals in rare form. A friend of mine compared the vocals on “Step in the Name of Love” to “Jordan in ’92” and I don’t disagree. It’s a sweet little dusty-inspired song that could — had it not been recorded by such a scandalous dude — become a wedding classic.

Chocolate Factory also has the most curious of things, a remix that was released as a single before the actual song. Honestly, “Ignition” was remixed on the same fucking record. It’s the kind of balls-out thing that only R. could pull off and pull off, he does. Again, let me remind you: This guy was being hit from all sides about a sex crimes situation while he was recording this song. What kind of song is it? Is is “I Believe I Can Fly 2002?” Nope.

It’s “I’m about to take my key and stick it in your ignition.”

Look, Trapped in the Closet showed us that R. was insane, but Chocolate Factory started all this insanity. Too bad the album is near-perfect.

82.

Band: Pelican
Album: The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw

Instrumental music is a hard thing to do well. It’s easy to fall into the background. Metal is a little easier, largely in that the melody is driven oftenby a lead guitar line. Pelican’s two-guitar attack is refined and lovely on the band’s ominously-named second record, The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw.

“Last Day of Winter” somehow makes for an interesting 9:36-long song, partially due to a little acoustic thing at the end of the song. “Red Ran Amber” is gorgeous. “Aurora Borealis” crunches and “Sirius” soars. “March to the Sea” might be the band’s best song. Unlike other instrumental metal bands, Pelican makes memorable music. The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw is their pinnacle.

81.

Band: Sleater-Kinney
Album: One Beat

A lot of records released in 2002 included some post-Sept. 11 musical nonsense, and One Beat was among the best, most overt and most passionate of the political music. Layered and mature, it was the first of S-K’s final two record, the two most mature and complete albums in the band’s discography. It was on One Beat that S-K became a full band and not just a punk/riot grrrl/whatever band.

I love it.

Introduction here. I’m starting to use jumps, as the LaLa.com previews are messing with load times.

100.

Band: The Flaming Lips
Album: Embryonic

The Flaming Lips’ latest album is less focused than others the band has released, but far less cutesy or maniacal. The band’s other efforts from the decade are nice, but sound forced and, often, obnoxious. Embryonic is sprawling and lovely. It’s crazy and subdued. It’s the band’s best work since The Soft Bulletin

99.

Band: Animal Collective
Album: Merriweather Post Pavilion

I’m hardly a fan of Animal Collective, but the band’s eighth album is taut and fun. It’s the first non-background music release by the band, full of melody and strife. It’s got long songs and catchy ones, with some striking complexity in its arrangements.

98.

Band: Daft Punk
Album: Human After All

I wrote about it here, but I’ll add this: Among unfairly maligned albums, Human After All is near the top. I still love the concept and I still love the album.

97.

Band: !!!
Album: Louden Up Now

I’ve seen !!! live twice and can say they are among the best live bands on the planet. Probably overhyped, !!!’s second record is danceable and furious.

96.

Band: Rihanna
Album: Good Girl Gone Bad

Her tabloid nonsense has taken over the discussion of her and it’s easy to forget that Rihanna made a really fucking good record. Armed with several singles, Good Girl Gone Bad is outstandingly simple and outstandingly fun. Club jams abound.

95.

Band: Kanye West
Album: 808s & Heartbreak

Another album about which I’ve written, 808s & Heartbreak is a lovely record, but wildly overdone and wildly overpraised.

94.

Band: Sam Prekop
Album: Who’s Your New Professor

No question, this is a “Ross’ tastes” pick. I adore the Sea and Cake and Prekop’s voice is a large part of that. On his second record, Prekop perfects his bossa nova sound.

93.

Band: Explosions in the Sky
Album: The Earth is Not a Cold, Dead Place

Just as the Sam Prekop record is clearly my taste, Explosions in the Sky is a band I’ve probably underrated here. I love Explosions and they put on one of the best live shows I’ve ever experienced. The band’s third record is emotive and lovely; a version of “Your Hand in Mine” was used to score the TV show Friday Night Lights.

92.

Band: Aereogramme
Album: My Heart Has A Wish That You Would Not Go

Creating some sort of emo record, Aereogramme stepped slightly outside of its collective comfort zone on My Heart Has A Wish That You Would Not Go. The band’s last record is dynamic and fun, but ultimately, probably a little too melodramatic.

91.

Band: Radiohead
Album: Kid A

Bet you didn’t expect this here, did you?

Now.

I’m probably being a little reactionary in putting this record up so far, considering I have other records by the band ranked far higher. I do love Kid A and I think there is a lot to like about the record. But, I do think Pitchfork put the album too high, at no. 1. And I think Kid A was thought to be the new Dark Side when it came out.

And I don’t buy it.

Look, again, I think the record is good. I just prefer the band’s other work.