Songs of Faith and Devotion: The Best of Music in 2009

1. Wilco - Wilco (The Album) -- The latest offering from quite simply the best band in the country right now, my fellow Chicago natives are at the peak of their talents on this album. They effortlessly shift from tongue-in-cheek songs about the salvational powers of the band ("Wilco (The Song)") to songs about down and out boxers replete with theremin and electric sitar ("Deeper Down") and black monster cars in the ominously sizzling "Bull Black Nova." The band can simply do no wrong here.

Tweedy's lyrics continue to shine -- "you were a blessing and I was a curse, I did my best not to make things worse" in "One Wing;" "Cmon, children, you're acting like children. Every generation thinks it's the end of the world" on "You Never Know" -- and the band remains an amazingly cohesive unit, every piece hitting in perfect unison. (Listen to the sheer number of layers on "Nova" or "Never Know" and ask yourself both how many other bands do that (and as well) and how easily it could have gone wrong (and in how many directions). The fact that it doesn't is testament to just how good these guys really are.)

As usual, the songs that hit the heart remain Tweedy's best and among my favorites -- the warm duet between Tweedy and Feist on "You and I" ("You and I, I think we can take it, all the good with the bad, make something no one else has;") the hushed confessional of "Solitaire" ("Once I thought without a doubt, I had it all figured out...took too long to see, I was wrong to believe in me only.") Each provided hope and solace this year as I tried desperately to hold together my failing relationship. The fierce devotion and determination of "I'll Fight" stood head and shoulders above the others, though. It's repeated professions of Tweedy being ready to fight/kill/die for his love -- a love that didn't seem to care/listen/notice -- were particularly poignant, despite the ultimate demise. Tweedy and the band have never been better, and this album shows just how much they have to give.

2. The Avett Brothers - I and Love and You -- An absolute masterpiece, this is the life-changing discovery that last year's Bon Iver album was -- a found treasure you return to time and again, that can lift your spirits and reaffirm your faith in life one minute and leave you laid open and weeping on the floor the next. The titular brothers (and their fellow Carolinean pal Bob Crawford) unleash a string of gorgeous harmonies and lyrics, from the banjo-picked bluegrass of "January Wedding" and its declarations of love; the bittersweet piano dirge "The Perfect Space" that ponders existential dilemmas ("Will you understand when I am too old of a man, will you forget when we've paid our debts .... I wanna have friends that I can trust, that love me for the man I've become not the man that I was") before kicking into a joyful third gear; the unbridled ecstasy of "Kick Drum Heart," which races along full tilt boogie, the bass drum mapping the rhythm of your rapidly beating heart.

This being the year of heartache and destruction, though, the album's biggest winners were the ones that eviscerated emotionally, tearing you open with their honesty, but keeping you alive with the warmth and precision in which it was administered -- "something has me acting like someone I don't want to be, ill with want and poisoned by this ugly greed" ("Ill With Want;") "I see pain, but I don't feel it, I am like the old tin man... I miss that, the feeling a feeling" ("Tin Man;") "they say you gotta lose a couple fights to win, it's hard to tell from where I'm sitting. They say that this is where the fun begins, I guess it's time that I was quitting" ("Slight Figure of Speech.") Nothing comes even close to the album's opener, though, the title track, which still has the ability to draw tears after dozens and dozens of listens. "Dumbed down and numbed by time and age, your dreams to catch, the world the cage, the highway sets the traveler's stage, all exits look the same...three words that became hard to say - 'I and love and you...'" Nothing better encapsulates the pain, sorrow, impotent love, and bitter disappointment of my year than these five minutes, a song that still finds beauty and hope in the jet black sadness.

3. Regina Spektor - Far -- Following on the heels of her 2006 breakthrough Begin to Hope, Spektor comes back with another free-spirited beauty, full of songs of heartbreak, love, and loss belted from the piano bench with a wink and a grin. Her playfulness is still there, as is the poignance -- for the former she notes how her "eyelashes catch my sweat" in "Folding Chair" before throwing in porpoise sounds near the end; she echoes the Morse code opening of "Dance Anthem on the 80s" with staccato vocals before explaining how "the boys and girls watch each other eat, when they really just wanna watch each other sleep." For the latter she explains lost love is "like forgetting the words to your favorite song, you can't believe it, you were always singing along" in "Eet" and charts a range of emotions regarding religion -- from nonplussed in "Blue Lips" ("He stumbled into faith and thought, 'God, this is all there is?'") to respectful fear in "Laughing With." ("No one laughs at God in a hospital, no one laughs at God in a war.")

This being the year it was, though, the ones that resonated the most were those that mirrored my failing relationship -- the beautiful account of two birds on a telephone wire, one too afraid to trust its feelings and act on them, while its partner keeps telling it "Cmon, it'll be ok!" in "Two Birds," for one. The perfect summation to it all though -- the year, the album, life -- was the blissful hope of "One More Time with Feeling" and its indefatigable belief that this too, shall pass. "Hold on, one more time with feeling. Say it again, breathing's just a rhythm. Say it in your mind until you know that the words are right -- this is why we fight..." That indomitable spirit, that big beating heart and the belief in its ability to heal is everywhere on this disc, and it provided no short measure of comfort and solace as the carnage ground to a close. If the bird wants to stay on the wire, convinced it will all fall apart if it doesn't, it's not your fault, she says, go fly away -- it's not your problem to fix anymore.

4. Neko Case - Middle Cyclone -- Case continues her skyward trajectory, following 2006's wonderful Fox Confessor Brings the Flood with this gem, a beautiful potpourri of tales all buttressed by that immaculate voice -- a wonder that is at turns soulful wail and bluesy bellow. The songwriting continues to shine, mixing tales of a vengeful tornado ("This Tornado Loves You"), voracious women ("People Gotta Lot of Nerve"), and disappointing men ("Vengeance is Sleeping") with poignant songs of love and loss. ("The Next Time You Say Forever," for one, which had a beautiful summation of the cause of my exploding relationship -- "Just because you don't believe it, doesn't mean I didn't mean it...")

Case is a chameleon here, effortlessly shifting points of view, from man to woman to animal to meteorological phenomenon -- the aforementioned "Tornado" is sung from the twister's perspective, for crying out loud -- and her honesty and playfulness rings out throughout. As Case said when I saw her perform this year, this is nighttime music -- the perfect soundtrack to a curl near the fireplace or a moonlit drive with the windows down on a summer night. You'll never be happier to see the darkness encroaching.

5. Andrew Bird - Noble Beast -- Yet another lush, gorgeous affair from fellow Chicago native Bird who follows the brilliance of 2007's Armchair Apocrypha with another album laden with hyper-literate lyrics, pitch-perfect whistles, heart-breaking melodies, and a violin used in more ways than duct tape. It's a veritable smorgasbord as Bird flits among thematic and sonic ideas like a frog does lilypads, cycling in instrumental and verbal loops, which lends to the rich experience.

There's the sensual "Effigy" where Bird again harmonizes with Nora O'Connor, a pairing as perfect and regal as champagne and strawberries; the shuffling "Not a Robot, But a Ghost" and its ethereal howl (alongside the effervescent refrain of "I cracked the coooooooooooode, I cracked the code!," which might be the single most fun line to sing this year); the stately crackle midway through "Anonanimal" where Bird frantically rambles his lines before easing back into rhythm; the sunny chorus and whistles of opener "Oh No;" the precious beauty and emotional nakedness of "Natural Disaster" and "The Privateers." They all shine, but the best of them all is "Fitz and the Dizzyspells," which combines all of the above into three and a half minutes of pure joy that will have you dancing around the room smiling.

6. Them Crooked Vultures - Them Crooked Vultures -- The rumors about this one had you salivating from the get go -- a supergroup with Queens of the Stone Age frontman Josh Homme, Foo Fighters/Nirvana heavy Dave Grohl, and...Led Zeppelin legend John Paul Jones? And drum god Grohl would be returning to the kit for the first time since the devastating Queens album Songs for the Deaf?!? Dear God, you had me at hello. The band masterfully whetted people's appetites the next few months and maintained the mystery surrounding it, releasing only snippets of their recordings on the band website and playing a series of unannounced shows in alias to test the material before releasing the album.

And what they finally delivered is rock at its ballsiest, hedonistic best -- a hybrid of Zeppelin's bombastic swagger and Queens' gritty sexuality and playful lyrics. As with the band itself, you're into the album from the opening notes -- "No One Loves Me, and Neither Do I" sounds like a mothballed tank lurching into action, the rust flaking off as the gears gain momentum, and when things finally lock in at 2:44, the obliteration is astonishing. The last two and a half minutes thud like an artillery attack, and the album scarcely lets up again. The four-song run of "Elephants," "Scumbag Blues," "Bandoliers," and "Reptiles" is absolutely blistering, and among the best 20-odd minutes you'll have this year. "Scumbag" alone is worth the price of admission and shows the band's mastery -- Homme's falsetto sounding more like Jack Bruce's than anything since the glory days of Cream, Jones' funk keys bouncing across the landscape with Homme's howling guitar, and Grohl's drums shredding everything in their path, so cleanly and loudly resonant you thank God for the gift of ears.

7. Adam Arcuragi - I Am Become Joy -- This one's an absolute beauty, a bird of paradise that inexplicably flew past everybody's drab city windowsills and landed in the courtyard unnoticed. An acoustic folkie from Pennsylvania, Arcuragi stuffs more melody, heart, and wisdom into these 11 songs than seems possible, and the result is an album that is more life affirming than a cancer diagnosis of remission.

You could start anywhere -- the stately "Almost Always" and "We Steal People's Medicine;" the heavy-hearted desolation of "The Long Route 38" or the hopeful "She Comes To Me" with their trumpet-led choirs; the full-throated soul of the chorus in "Lunch in Field Four;" the ebullient country-fried twang of "Bottom of the River" and "Math." They all soar, rising high on the back of Arcuragi's sharp lyrics and soulful baritone. ("River"'s devastating opening line -- "Well I am in love with something invisible" -- is another perfect summation of my failed relationship. Boy, was I...) And none go higher than "People and Private Music," a song so joyful and heart-swelling it makes you want to run through a field jumping and singing. Let's hope the lyrics are right -- "the real thing's coming, yeah the real thing's coming" -- because this skinny kid wants to sing one more song...

8. The Features - Some Kind of Salvation -- This nifty little album comes from a quartet of Spartans (Tennessee, not Greece) who deftly bridge the gap between Southern-style rock and big-hearted power pop. I caught them open for Kings of Leon this year and they actually stole the show from their fellow Tennessee brethren, melding big hooks with soaring choruses that make you try to sing along the first time out, despite not knowing any of the words.

The album is chock full of winners -- from the Gypsy-tinged opener "Whatever Gets you By," which transitions seamlessly into the porn horn laden "The Drawing Board;" the sweet lovers "Baby's Hammer" and "Off Track;" and loud-quiet-loud gems "Foundation's Cracked" and "Temporary Blues." Lead singer and guitarist Matt Pelham's voice sucks you in every time, switching from dulcet croon to full-throated roar in an instant, and urges you to do the same. None more compellingly than "Lions," which captures the band at its finest. A powerful, joyous song of hope, love, and commitment, this is one I hope to sing again soon, only this time to someone who sings it back.

9. The XX - xx -- A cool, spare affair from a trio of Londoners, this one's slickness personified. It is perfect, calming mood music -- it so evocatively conveys the black of night that to listen to it in the day is like having breakfast at 11:30PM or brushing your teeth at a bar. It's got miles of open space to relax in, and the hushed vocals and clean, simple guitar riffs scream through it like meteors rocketing through the sky. There's the sultry, lovelorn "Shelter" and the imploring "Infinity," which smolder like the embers of a fire; there's the bouncing skip beat of "Islands," whose guitar is a blast of sunshine to match the bright, hopeful lyrics.

"Crystalised" is the show pony, though -- the perfect reflection of what the band can do. An infectious, plucky riff that smacks of somewhere in the Orient, driving electro drum beats and mumbled boy-girl vocals that spiral around, and cool, chilly atmosphere that creeps out of the speakers like frost out of the freezer. A simple, sexy affair, this one makes for a heck of a debut.

10. MSTRKRFT - Fist of God / Deadmau5 - For Lack of a Better Name / Major Lazer - Guns Don't Kill People.....Lazers Do -- In a year that was as brutal as this one aforementionedly was, the need to blow off steam and dance away the pain was high, and these three were frequently called into service. While none of them are as undeniably perfect dance monsters like last year's Justice album, they come close at times, and it's those moments that earned them the three-way split here. All three showed up to blow minds at Lolla's dance tent (quite possibly the musical high point of the year for me) and those in attendance know why.

MSTRKRFT came to the stage with a bottle of Jack, lumberjack/redneck couture, and a pair of killer mustaches and proceeded to shower the crowd with the raw fuzz and thudding drums of member Jesse Keeler's old band Death From Above 1979 and the synthed out glory of a Justice/Daft Punk lovechild. (Along with whatever Jack Keeler decided not to gulp down and spray on us instead.) Album opener "It Ain't Love" is a firestarting gem and "Heartbreaker" is a perfect marriage of dance beats and John Legend's silky R&B croon. These two, along with the mildly retarded (but still catchy) party anthem "Bounce" are enough to prop up the album before it starts to falter under a string of unimpressive and interchangeable hip hop cameos.

Deadmau5 came to the stage in his customary mouse head just as night was falling, and the sight of the oversized cartoon mask glowing white in the strobes, a silent, somewhat creepy counterpoint to the darkness around it, was emblematic of the music that spun out from the speaker stacks. It's cool, mysterious, and takes a little while before you know what to make of it, but you will end up dancing. The album opens the same way, with two instrumentals that slowly get your head bobbing, warming you up for ten solid minutes before dropping "Ghosts n Stuff" and "Hi Friend," the sole tracks with vocals on the disc. Both are great tracks, the former a belt it to the rafters type rave, the latter a Chemical Brothers style cyclone, and they mark the high points of the album's prowess before it starts to peter out with increasingly uninspiring instrumentals.

For his part Major Lazer mastermind Diplo came to the stage in full suit and tie and hit the crowd with an array of gigantic international beats so pristine and precisely deployed, you could tell you were in the hands of a professional. The album upholds the formula perfected on M.I.A.'s offerings, all globetrotting flavor and chic, and this one transports you to Jamaica with a dancehall soundtrack so authentic it practically drips with sweat and pot smoke. Santigold's maddening chant on the opener "Hold the Line" is irresistible, "Mary Jane" is another ode to the green stuff that'll have you shaking your tail, and "Can't Stop Now" is pure reggae bliss, a cool, lazy breeze cutting through the Kingston humidity. "Pon de Floor" is the hands down winner, though, with a distorted snake-charmer's horn that you can't get out of your head winding among the best beats Diplo has constructed. An uneven affair like the other two, there's more than enough here to start your 2010 on the right foot happily on the dance floor.