One You Should Know: J Roddy Walston & the Business

In honor of the madness for which this month is known, I thought I'd break with the tradition of the past few years and post something outside the year in review.  And to double the insanity I thought I'd dust off one of my favorite old formats, the titular form meant to showcase bands that are too good to ignore anymore and come with a helpful setlist highlighting the best the band can do.

The band good enough to make me break my vow of silence is the fantastic four piece from Baltimore (by way of Chattanooga) J Roddy Walston & the Business. Harnessing the chicken-fried vibe of their former environs while armoring it with the no-nonsense attitude of their current home, these guys bowl you over like a pissed off biker at a honkytonk.  I had the pleasure of catching them live last month and probably would have liked them anyway, for not only was the concert free, but the BEER was too. (Thanks, Lagunitas!)  Thankfully these guys seemed even more determined to wow as a result, and they definitely got folks to shut up and start moving during a positively blistering set. (Prompting some in the crowd to even start circle dancing around folks like mildly inebriated predators.)

Whether you get to see them live or not (and if given the option I highly recommend you do), it's easy to see why these guys have earned such a rabid following -- a point hopefully evidenced by the selections below.  The band is three albums in at this point, and they've sharpened their attack to near lethal effect from 2007's Hail Mega Boys.  That album was a more straightforward mix of Southern rock and shambling piano -- which is not to intimate it was simple.  Songs like "Rock and Roll the Second," "Go For It," and "Used to Did" (among the others below) all had you reaching for the volume and bellowing along.

This year's release, Essential Tremors -- to say nothing of their near flawless self-titled album in between -- unleashed something different, though.  There's still the irresistible alchemy of barroom blues and Zeppelin-style riffs and swagger, but they've concentrated it to such a degree it's potent enough to liquidate your brain at times. There are plenty of examples, lots of them in the below -- "Caroline," "Brave Man's Death," and top two favorite "Pigs and Pearls" represent the former, belt them to the rafters barnburners, while "Don't Break the Needle," "Don't Get Old," and "Sweat Shock" (among so many others) showcase the latter, blow out your speakers and maybe start a fist fight (or start circle dancing) ragers.

Nothing does it better than "Heavy Bells," though -- a perfect distillation of both categories that is so good it snaps something in your brain and makes you a maniac damn near every time you hear it.  It's a song that's honestly so good I can't say enough positive things about it, but am also reluctant to talk about it for fear of ruining it forever.  Suffice it to say it blew my brain apart the first time I heard it and made me a J Roddy acolyte instantly (and it made a room full of grownups lose their fucking MINDS when they played it live last month).  So hopefully you'll find it to your liking.

It -- and the rest of the Business' best (five from each of their three albums) -- are arranged for your enjoyment below:

J Roddy Walston & the Business --

1. Don't Break the Needle (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
2. Marigold (Essential Tremors)
3. Used to Did (Hail Mega Boys)
4. Heavy Bells (Essential Tremors)
5. Sweat Shock (Essential Tremors)
6. Don't Get Old (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
7. I'll Tell You What (Hail Mega Boys)
8. Take it as it Comes (Essential Tremors)
9. Nineteen Ought Four (Hail Mega Boys)
10. Midnight Cry (Essential Tremors)
11. Brave Man's Death (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
12. Caroline (J Roddy Walston & the Business)
13. Go Malachi (Hail Mega Boys)
14. Sally Bangs (Hail Mega Boys)
15. Pigs & Pearls (J Roddy Walston & the Business) 

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One other treat before I run out again for who knows how long. As if the aforementioned Roddy concert wasn't good enough (did I mention the free beer? I mean c'mon, people!), I also was treated to a great discovery with the opening act, Low Cut Connie, whose boozy mix of shambling piano, howling group vocals, and vintage rock and roll was enough to wow even without all the other pluses that night. Their 2012 album, Call Me Sylvia, is a fun medley of the above, showcasing the band's rotating arsenal of vocalists and sounds.  There's the Buddy Holly vibe of tracks like "Brand New Cadillac," the surfer rock of "Don't Cry Baby Blue," the Meters/Dirtbombs funk of "Pity Party," and the glammy punch of the title track.

Lead single "Boozophilia" is the best among equals, though, a high energy romp from Philly to my beloved city by the lake that'll have you singing along with the boys in no time.  Check it (and the album writ large) out here:

The Echo Chamber: Best Music of 2013

It's been an interesting year, my friends.  For every great advance -- engagement, promotion, permanently disfiguring body art -- there have been an equal number of frustrating retreats to earlier days. Case in point the chronically sleep deprived mind sitting down to write this -- my first and only post of the year again -- after another fifteen hour day and five calls in the middle of the night. Who says progress isn't improvement?

While in certain cases these reminders of yesteryear were a welcome surprise, as evidenced by several of the albums below and their time capsule charms, all too often they were an annoyance you just couldn't shake.  Names and flames that wouldn't fully disappear, workloads and worries that wouldn't let up.  Together they conspired to give the year a tug of war quality you couldn't quite escape; a low-grade buzzing in the ear just loud enough to diminish an otherwise brilliant symphony. But to focus on those woes in lieu of the wows would be a betrayal of my Chicago roots and the unassailable Sunshine name.

Because the wows were simply too good -- in addition to the three above there were new homes and haunts, great new friends and coworkers, and the arrival of my favorite little maritime craft to dote on. And then there's the absolute treasure trove of good music that came out this year.  For the one or two of you who still read this blog, you'll know I often struggle to adhere to the "top ten list" strictures this time of year, cramming anywhere from 15-17 discoveries into my annual list. This year, though, I struggled to keep it under thirty, and had to kick several frequent fliers off the manifest -- there was just that much quality stuff released.

So that's what you're left with below -- Bobby's effort to cram as much sunshine as he can into the annual wrapup, the thirty best albums I encountered this year.  Of those thirty, five were clear and away favorites -- albums of such perfection or purpose that to have them share space with another would besmirch their true value.  I listened to them relentlessly, and at times obsessively, so am confident they stand up to serious scrutiny.  For the remaining 25 I've paired them off -- in part for their thematic or stylistic kinship, and in part as homage to my impending twinning.  I hope you enjoy them -- as always, there's a little something for everyone, adventurous and conservative alike -- so take a few out for a test drive and let me know how the wind feels in your hair.  Until next year, my friends...

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1. Parquet Courts -- Light Up Gold:  A punky, brash blast from these newcomers from Brooklyn, this was hands down the album I listened to most this year.  Trashy, funny, and flat out fun, at thirty-four minutes this was the sonic equivalent of a meteor streaking across the sky.  The one-two opener of "Master of My Craft" and "Borrowed Time" set the tone early -- machine gun lyrics, racing backbeat, and surf-style guitar riffs flying all over the place -- while follow on tracks "Yonder is Closer to the Heart," "Light Up Gold II," and the deservedly ballyhooed "Stoned and Starving" continue blowing out windows along the album's arc. Downtempo gems like "Yr No Stoner," "Careers in Combat," and "Tears of Plenty" give momentary respite, merely serving as kindling to keep the blaze in the aforementioned's wake burning.

In conjunction with their subsequent EP (the five song Tally All the Things you Broke), these guys represent all the joy and charm of a killer garage band -- sharp, quick songs, snarled lip attitude, and lots and lots of energy. (Perhaps not coincidentally this was also one of my favorite shows of the year, as they thrashed around the Cat in a blistering little set.)  All in all, this is one hell of a debut album from a band definitely worth keeping an eye on.

2. Kanye West -- Yeezus: Only a genius like Kanye could make his most non-commercial album to date -- an aggressive, at times abrasive offering that seems almost intent on repelling those who love him for his polished, layered singles of the past -- and still deliver something so tremendous. And don't kid yourself -- this IS a tremendous album.  Despite his statements in the opening "On Sight" of how little a fuck he gives -- right before he pauses the electronic squalls to cut to a children's choir -- Kanye's packed this album full of an embarrassment of riches, all surreptitiously crafted with meticulous care under the banner of middle finger in the air rebellion.

Of all the albums on the list it's perhaps the most emblematic of the year writ large with its push-pull qualities.  For every potentially offensive lyric or annoying sound -- and there are enough of both to have given writers plenty of fodder to keep them going over the year -- there are a greater number of classic lyrics or mind-melting sounds to tip the balance. (The marrow-rattling growl of "Black Skinhead" or the exasperated line about croissants, which still makes me smile every time I hear it, to name two.) Similar to the year's nagging frustrations, the more you push past these superficial issues, the more you're treated to an abundance of fortune.  Vocal flourishes or samples that make you weak in the knees -- the instant classic Nina Simone sample in "Blood on the Leaves" for the latter or Kanye-crony Justin Vernon's ever-amazing voice embellishing "Hold my Liquor" and "I'm In It" for the former.

This album is pure id -- songs about sex and liquor and god complexes, all surrounded by the screams and wails of a noisy, unencumbered pleasure system. I know I say it pretty much every year now (and I do, since Kanye's had an album make the list in each of the last three years), but Kanye remains the most ruthlessly creative guy in music right now, one constantly taking chances or pushing the envelope for what people will respond to.  And he's pushed the farthest to date with this one.  Thankfully it's worth the effort to understand.

3. Foals -- Holy Fire: Of all the bands on the list this year, this was my most pleasant discovery as I got to experience not only this, their third album, but each of their previous two as if they were new, as well -- 2008's Antidotes and 2010's Total Life Forever -- because they were to me.  I can't remember how, exactly, I backed into these guys, but I'm damn glad I did as I've run these three albums through the thresher this year.

As on those older outings, the band harnesses a smoldering, somewhat Caribbean vibe in their songs, often building layers of jittery, reverb-laden guitar until the songs blow apart in flurries of frenzied color. From tracks like "My Number" and "Bad Habit" to "Late Night" and lead single "Inhaler," the band blends their poppy energy with good old fashioned rock breaks that continuously have you on the edge of dancing. (As one of the many Lolla bands on the list this year, they also put on a heck of a show live that did, in fact, have folks thrashing about.) Always good for a reliable dose of energy whenever I put them on, these Oxford boys were my island getaway band whenever I needed a jolt this year.

4. Alt-J -- An Awesome Wave: This one wins the truth in advertising award, as its title is indeed reflective of the rush of sounds and influences that run throughout this album.  With everything from art rock esotery to acapella interludes, electronic edges, and folk rock sidebars, this album covers an impressive amount of terrain. There's the lush "Tessellate," the surfer riff smoldering in "Fitzpleasure," the soaring harmonies in "Taro," the all-around lovely "Matilda." And then there's the glorious "Breezeblocks," which goes from oddly entrancing ditty with its dancing xylophone accompaniment to something truly special when it shifts gears at the end to a love song in the round.

At times lead singer Joe Newman's voice can sound a bit like an Adam Sandler impression gone awry, but the beautiful melodies and harmonies that proliferate here are more than enough to win over any doubters.  The band sounds surprisingly good live, too, as we managed to catch and enjoy them -- after Ms. Kymbers shouted the jabbermouths around us into silence -- at Lolla. It's easy to see why this took home Britain's prestigious Mercury Prize this year -- an original, daring mix of dissonant sounds and influences, this one's a true beauty.

5. Cayucas -- Bigfoot: If the Foals were my go-to this year for a reliable jolt of energy, Cayucas were my ready dispensers for sunbeams.  Appropriately hailing from California, this album instantly transports you to the coast -- be it a top-down drive along the water or a sunsoaked romp on the beach -- while taking you back in time, as well.  Sounding a bit like the Beach Boys' nieces and nephews,  the album's washed out vocals and simple, shimmery guitar riffs bring you back to the sun-and-surf era of the early 60s with aplomb.

Songs like the opening one-two of "Cayucos" and lead single "High School Lover" start an instant beach party, while "Will 'the Thrill,'" "A Summer Thing," and "East Coast Girl" form the soundtrack for when you're on your back out of breath once the sand's stopped flying. Great harmonies, great vibe, and with only eight songs you're definitely left wanting more.  Here's to hoping it comes soon!

6. (TIE) Arcade Fire -- Reflektor; Nine Inch Nails -- Hesitation Marks: On to the double features...The thread bringing these two together -- two of the best either artist has released, it turns out -- is their unexpected urge to make you dance. Neither of these artists are known for making you move your feet -- Arcade's sweet spot typically is soaring, anthemic songs while NIN's is forming the misanthropic soundtrack for some post-apocalyptic, end of the world scenario -- but both of these albums reveal an innate funkiness that brings forth welcome new aspects to their sound.

It's perhaps a little more jarring for Arcade, just for how wholeheartedly (and aggressively) the band rolled out the new sound -- with the hugely promoted double album, the much hyped production by former LCD Soundsystem frontman James Murphy, the potentially cloying (or pretentious, to quote Colbert) costumes and makeup during initial performances. (See the skin-crawling SNL performance for the most egregious example.) Once you push past all that nonsense, though, you're greeted with some pretty great songs -- there's lead single "Reflektor" whose bongo break at the end of the song's third minute still makes my heart race; there's the gonzo Carnival freakout at the end of "Here Comes the Night," which remains my high point on the album; the Smiths-ish "You Already Know;" the Bowie-esque "Joan of Arc;" the flat out excellent "Afterlife."  Taken as a whole, you start to understand what the band was getting after -- a simple, Mardi Gras style good time with flecks of the 80s in the crust -- and you begin to forgive the ham-handed rollout.

For NIN, the surprise isn't that the funkiness exists -- it's been there to some degree on every album since the beginning, from "Kinda I Want To" to "Suck" or even "Closer." What surprises here is the prominence.  Instead of dusting a song with it here or there, it's treated as a primary ingredient here, propelling songs throughout the album.  From "All Time Low" to "Satellite," "Running," and even lead single "Came Back Haunted," there's a slinking sexiness to the songs that takes the album -- already on par with previous classics The Downward Spiral and The Fragile -- to another level.

7. (TIE) The National -- Trouble Will Find Me; Vampire Weekend -- Modern Vampires of the City: The theme for this slot is Keep Doing What You're Doing (Part I). Neither of these artists are strangers to this site's wrapup ramblings -- National topped the 2010 list and finished second in 2008; Vampire, despite not charting, has shown up in both those years after finishing just outside the cut -- and neither changes much up on their sixth and third albums, respectively. The National remain masters of melancholy, offering another brood of beautiful, brooding tunes -- lead single "Don't Swallow the Cap," "Sea of Love," and "Graceless" are perfect companion pieces to 2010's High Violet, while "Fireproof" ranks among the band's best songs.

Vampire, too, largely continues what they've done so well to date -- jaunty, quirky indie rock melding front man Ezra Koenig's hyper-literate lyrics and nasally falsetto with the band's African rhythms and globetrotting sensibilities. There's the almost spiritual hymn of opener "Obvious Bicycle;" the belt-it-to-the-rafters chorus of lead single "Unbelievers;" the lush chamber pop flourishes of "Step;" the motormouth blitz of "Worship You." What's new (and what represents the ancillary theme for this slot) is the note of darkness that runs through the album. (Everything the National touches has a bit of black to it, after all, it's just a matter of shading.) There's a sense of weariness under the surface here; a touch of jaundice tinting the otherwise sunny yellow that makes the album resonate a little more.  Case in point the incredible "Hannah Hunt," an elegiac gem that slowly shifts from defeated murmur to resilient yowl in four short minutes. Beautiful stuff from both bands -- so keep it comin'!

8. (TIE) Queens of the Stone Age -- ...Like Clockwork; Black Rebel Motorcycle Club -- Specter at the Feast: This one's the rock block (also known as Keep Doing What You're Doing (Part II)), which highlights the two best straight rock albums of the year.  Both albums chart similar paths -- both are best enjoyed as the dark soundtrack to a midnight drive, out cruising for (or causing) a little mischief. Both have smoldering, slow burn openers followed by a handful of uptempo barnburners on par with the bands' best.  The remainder of the songs at times feel like treading water -- not bad by any means, but maybe lacking a bit of the fire of some of the standouts.  Which I'll take pretty much any day of the week -- even tarnished diamonds still shine more than almost everything around them, after all -- it just keeps these albums from being truly exceptional face melters.

For Queens that means their reunion with drum god Dave Grohl lacks a bit of the venom of their 2002 classic Songs for the Deaf, but what they leave behind can at times still be pretty blistering. There's the aforementioned opener "Keep Your Eyes Peeled," followed by the fantastic "I Sat by the Ocean," "If I Had a Tail," and lead single "My God is the Sun."  All show the band at the top of their form (as did their face-melting set at Lolla this year, which was a top three finisher for the festival).

For BRMC the black lava opener is "Fire Walker," which is followed by  the equally sludgy "Sell It," the vintage "Let the Day Begin," and the firebomb barrage of "Hate the Taste," "Rival," and "Teenage Disease."  Interspersed are songs showcasing the band's brand of folksy gospel like "Returning," "Lullaby," "Lose Yourself," and "Warning Sign," all of which dutifully add to that side of the band's canon. Both albums show why these bands are potent combos -- even if they pop out to the second baseman every now and again.

9. (TIE) Pusha T -- My Name is My Name; El-P and Killer Mike -- Run the Jewels; Danny Brown -- Old: This one's the rap attack and appropriately where we break from the monogamy parade for a freaky little threesome.  First up is Pusha's first official album (after a series of excellent mixtapes) and he pulls out all the stops with guest spots by Rick Ross, 2 Chainz, Pharrell, and others. Thankfully he isn't papering over shoddy framework as the album maintains all the quality of his former work, the trio of albums from the ever excellent Clipse. (The best rap outfit of the past ten years, if you're curious.) From lead single "Numbers on the Board" to tracks like "King Push" and "Nosetalgia," there's still the coke rap he/Clipse were known for, but the album finds him branching out a bit as well, with tracks like "Hold On," "40 Acres," and "Let me Love You," which touch on less classic rap bravura topics like love, suicide, and slavery. Pusha shows why Kanye recruited him to both his label and his posse here, and both benefit from the partnership -- Kanye adds some musicality and diversity to Pusha's street grit and stinging lyrics and Kanye gets a little edge to his pink polo and backpack origins.

Speaking of grit, next up is the positively grimy collaboration from El-P and Killer Mike, a ten song assault on your senses, sensibilities, and resistance to rap (if for some reason you still have one after 30 years). The songs are unabashedly aggressive, rapping with zeal about drugs and violence over beats that are sledgehammer heavy at times. ("The beat breaks and your teeth break," as Mike raps on the album's closer.) If you push past the shock and awe front, though, you'll be treated to two of the best lyrical performances of the year.  El and Mike positively shred the mike with some of their verses -- see the title track, "36" Chain," and the brain melting "Sea Legs" once El gets rolling.  And that's why this is a perfect test to win over rap haters -- it has all the hot button things people hate about it, but El and Mike's skill is so amazing that I think it's impossible not to warm to.  With flow this blistering and hot, just call it magma.

All this goes double for Danny Brown's album Old -- almost literally, as this monster debut clocks in at 19 tracks and is chock full of debauchery over its hour duration. Brown looks and sounds a bit like the reincarnation of Ol Dirty Bastard, most pointedly as he honks out verses of near-nonsense like a demented toucan (as on the infectious "Wonderbread, for one) or chronicles his graphic sexploits ("Dope Fiend Rental," "Red to Go," virtually all of Side B). His maniacal energy -- and lyrical skill -- punch through any worries about one note subject matter and keep you coming back for more, though.  For he is bringing more than a Solo cup and erection to the party -- Brown has some serious skills and more going on upstairs than the party tracks may convey.  Check out down tempo tunes like "The Return," "25 Bucks," "Clean Up," and "Float On" as proof.  Their dexterity and depth help highlight the other side of the lunatic party persona from songs like "Smokin & Drinkin," lead single "Dip," and the rest of side B.  One hell of a debut -- we'll see where the party takes us on future offerings.

10. (TIE) Airborne Toxic Event -- Such Hot Blood; Bastille -- Bad Blood: Besides the titular similarities, these two are paired together for their big hearted, sing em to the rafters choruses and their status as the two most reliable instigators of an in car karaoke party this year. My fiancee hates Airborne, saying they sound like a bad Christian rock band, and I understand the resistance -- lead singer Mikel Jollett's voice and his penchant for throwing synths and strings into every song's climax can sound pleading and pretentious, potentially.  To me, though, it's always sounded predominantly sincere; almost an alien reflection of unguarded openness that hasn't been diluted by cynicism or walled off as a defense to pain. They're the fat nerd in high school always wearing Star Wars T-shirts and talking about comic books on the way to AV club -- for some reason they haven't had that brilliant honesty beaten out of them yet.

So basically these guys get the Macklemore Exception -- their to-some over-earnestness gets a pass from me, if for no other reason than to keep encouraging a little unadulterated emoting from this end of the spectrum. God knows we've got plenty of batshit crazy lunatics out there flinging their nuttiness in our faces -- why not a little more sincerity and heart to balance things out?  If you're on board with that, you should find plenty to enjoy because there are some great tunes here -- there's the standard soaring anthems like opener "The Secret," "The Storm," and lead single "Timeless," but there are also more introspective, understated gems like "This is London," "Elizabeth," and "Bride and Groom," which highlight the band's gift for sprawling Springsteen-esque narratives.  Call em corny or call em cliched, but I'll call em keepers -- they keep me singing along, for three albums and counting now.

As for Bastille, they too can suffer the slings of over-earnestness and pop polish on their debut, for it is a pretty, shiny thing.  The twelve tracks from these Londoners are a mix of piano ballads and electropop -- two trademarks of the Bobby Sunshine brand, I know -- but for whatever reason their heart and harmonies grab hold and bring you close. From tracks like "Overjoyed," "Oblivion," and "Daniel in the Den" (for the former) to "Things we Lost in the Fire," "These Streets," and the title track these songs get their hooks in, an affliction that only worsens with time.  And I defy anyone to listen to "Pompeii" and "Flaws" and not sing along at the top of your lungs.  If you can, you need medical attention because you're dead inside. #truthbomb

11. (TIE) The Features -- The Features; Kings of Leon -- Mechanical Bull:  This one's for The Voice (aka Keep Doing What You're Doing (Part III), starring two of the best rock voices around, The Features' Matt Pelham and Kings' Caleb Followill.  It's appropriate these two are paired together for other reasons, too, as I discovered the Features when they opened for Kings years ago and actually impressed me more than the headliners I'd shown up for.  Were it not for me breaking with tradition and actually showing up for an opening act, I might never have found what now ranks as one of my favorite little bands, so consider this a bit of debt paying, as well.

Both albums show the bands relying on their beloved strengths (both have finished on the annual wrapups several times before, including as recently as last year -- the Features earned the #2 spot for Wilderness, while the Kings nabbed the #10 slot for their last album three years ago, 2010's Come Around Sundown), while also branching out a bit to keep things fresh.  For whatever reason, both chose the 80s as the element to mine for in their drilling -- for the Features it ends up being synth, for Kings it's 80's style, reverby guitar -- but thankfully it works for both of them.

The Features' album is a little less straight-forward rock than previous offerings and a bit more of a departure for them, coming across a bit like an 80's era dance party, fueled mainly by the more prominent synth and predominance of songs about love.  "Tenderly" (lovingly rechristened "Tymberly" for how much it sounds like our new team name) and "Won't Be Long" sound like vintage offerings, but tracks like "This Disorder," "With Every Beat," and "Ain't No Wonder" show the band fusing things in a slightly different manner. Like I said, though, it works -- the band remains fantastic live (their intimate back room blast at the Cat was one of the high points this year), drummer Rollum Haas remains a ridiculously underrated drummer (deceptively so -- but I challenge you to keep up with him on tracks like "Won't Be Long" or "Ain't No Wonder," which sound a whole lot easier than they are), and these guys writ large remain worth keeping track of.

The latter can be said for the Kings, too, who despite their annoying, self-important public personas and constant infighting keep churning out albums full of solid rock songs on this, their sixth full length effort. We've known for years that the fiery, shambling glory of their early years has been forsaken for the broader, more radio-friendly embrace of the mainstream, but the band seems to have grown into that role more comfortably (and less desperately) here than it's felt at times in the past. So what we're left with is a confident batch of tracks that'll have you reaching for the volume and tilting back your head to sing along even louder.  From lead single "Supersoaker" and its follow on "Rock City," to tracks like "Temple," "Tonight," and the rollicking "Family Tree," the band shows glimmers of the swagger of yore.  Whereas tracks like "Beautiful War," "Wait For Me," "Comeback Story," and "On the Chin" highlight the lighters in the air heart of recent years that's bound to end up on the airwaves. (Rightfully so, as they're solid tracks.) As much as they give you to hate, they give you double to like, so I'm stickin' with em to see what comes next.

12. (TIE) Junip -- Junip; The Dodos -- Carrier: This slot's for the criminally underrated and a nod to some super talented musicians making really pretty music.  For the Dodos, it's not their first rodeo -- they were last here for their fourth album, 2011's No Color, which earned them the #3 spot that year -- but it is the first dance for Junip with this, their second full length. Which is not to say they were one of the year's prized discoveries -- that title goes to any of the first timers we've covered so far (and the equal number still to come).

The band's 2010 debut Fields was a solid affair very similar to this year's offering, but by that point I'd already been following lead singer Jose Gonzalez for years with his trademark marriage of phenomenal classic guitar playing and his haunting voice.  Junip took those sounds and plugged them in, building on the stripped down acoustic style of his solo work and giving them a little meat with the help of bandmates (and fellow Scandinavians) Elias Araya and Tobia Winterkorn.  Those elements haven't paled or grown tiresome in the three years between albums -- the band again offers a smoldering batch of dark, lush songs that at times crackle like a log in the fire.  Tracks like the opening "Line of Fire," "So Clear," "Your Life Your Call," and "Walking Lightly" build the heat while the closing duo "Beginnings" and "After All is Said and Done" are the blissed out embers at the end of the night.  Put this on and bask in the warmth.

For the Dodos, this fifth album finds them bridging their previous pattern of staid, sometimes melancholic album followed by a more buoyant, even joyous one, a pattern that held through their previous four offerings. Carrier charts the course between the two to positive effect -- "Relief," "Holidays," "Death," and "The Ocean" plumb the darker water, while "Substance," "Confidence," "The Current," and "Destroyer" navigate the sunnier coastal shores. The album's opening track perhaps purposely boils this dynamic down to a single song, the aptly named "Transformer," which cants and reels like a sailboat in a squall.  Frontman Meric Long and his percussive tempest Logan Kroeber continue to put out winning, heartfelt music (and an equally strong live performance), and this album is no different. These guys remain among my favorites.

13. (TIE) Jake Bugg -- Jake Bugg; Shovels and Rope -- O Be Joyful: For the final chapter of this review we enter the wormhole and go back in time.  If Act I of the wrapup was The Untouchables and Act II was Catching up with Old Friends (minus the stray ingenue), Act III is the Land of The Newcomers, ten debuts from folks hearkening back to earlier days -- two per decade. As is only appropriate, we'll start at the beginning with this pair of albums giving us a dose of the 60s.

First, and perhaps most notably of all the throwbacks, is Jake Bugg's debut, which dances so effortlessly between late 60s Dylan and Croce it can give you chills.  The opening third of the album is all Dylan -- lead single "Lightning Bolt" and its middle finger follow on "Two Fingers," along with "Taste It," "Seen it All," and "Trouble Town" are uncanny analogs to Big Bob's early days. Whereas slower acoustic tunes like "Simple as This," "Country Song," "Broken," and "Someone Told Me" are lovely finger-picked gems that would make the Hard Time Losin' Man himself proud. What makes all this even more impressive is that a 19-year old English kid could so effectively replicate two giants of the American canon. As he already showed on his equally excellent Shangri-La (released late this year), this wasn't a flash in the pan -- you've seen the signs, so jump on the lightning bolt.

Husband and wife duo Michael Trent and Cary Ann Hearst take us a bit earlier in the decade, tipping more toward early 60s folk groups (of which there are oodles to pick from, so pick your favorite and away we go).  They capture the warmth of the sound well -- the album is perfectly named, as it never fails to get me grinning when it comes on -- and that spell is only deepened when you see the pair play live. This was one of the six Act III bands we saw at Lolla this year and they were among the highlights, mixing a fan wedding proposal into the joyful set without missing a beat. The two feed off each other and even on the album you can hear them smiling at each other while they sing. You really can't miss here -- from lead single "Birmingham" to "Keeper," "Tickin Bomb," "Cavalier," and the title track, the album is chock full of singalong gems.  So grab a chair and warm up those knees -- they'll keep the beat nicely once you hit play.

14. (TIE) Night Moves -- Colored Emotions; Little Green Cars -- Absolute Zero: These two take us into the 70s with their rich harmonies and warm AM radio sound.  First up is Night Moves, the Minneapolis trio I stumbled on to when they opened for Django Django this year and really wowed me with their lush, bright melodies. Similar to Shovels there's no single band they're particularly evocative of, but rather call to mind the mood of a broader time or place -- in this case those Laurel Canyon bands from the early 70s when the studio polish and drugs started taking hold, sanding off both the music's rougher edges and its innocence, which led to the decadence and vacuousness of the disco era. For that stretch of time, though, we had music like this -- pretty, unadulterated music that was shot through with California sun.  There's no fat here -- it's sequenced so well the songs run together like one big tone poem. Mountain peaks include "Headlights," "Only a Child," "Family Tongues," "Put Out Your Shoulder/Horses," and the title track.

Little Green Cars dance through the same valley as Night Moves, but sound very much like a specific band -- in this case, golden era Fleetwood Mac with their soaring, three-part guy-gal harmonies and soulful, bluesy siren that creeps in to steal the show on certain tracks. At times the echoes are eerie -- "My Love Took me Down to the River to Silence Me" sounds so much like a Stevie Nicks vocal you swear you've heard her sing it before, while "The Kitchen Floor" sounds like a lost track from Rumours.  Even when the echoes are more muted (however slightly that may be) the band succeeds -- from fan favorites "Harper Lee" and "Angel Owl" to "Big Red Dragon" and lead single "The John Wayne," these guys can get your heart rate up and your vocal chords vibrating with ease.

15. (TIE) Wild Cub -- Youth; Atlas Genius -- When it Was Now: The time warp continues forward into the decadent, hazy 80s now with its synth-laden dance parties, jangly guitars, and ethereal vocals, everything awash in reverb (and a healthy layer of cocaine dust). Leading the charge here is the Nashville quintet Wild Cub and their buoyant batch of throwback tracks, which channel the best of the era of excess' energy and bounce.  Tracks like "Colour," "Wishing Well," "Summer Fires/Hidden Spells" and the jaunty lead single "Thunder Clatter" dance along with all the colors of the Benetton rainbow, while "Jonti" and "Wild Light" capture the bubbly Caribbean vibe so predominant back then.  The band puts on a surprisingly good live show, too, relying on more live instrumentation than electronic assistance than you'd expect to get the party started.  Worth a look/listen.

If Cub represents the club, Atlas are 80s rock radio -- synth backed songs full of jittery guitar and soaring choruses that make up for their utter lack of danger or edge with indelible melodies. And I'm ok with that, because there are some REALLY catchy songs on here. Opener "Electric," "Back Seat," and "Symptoms" all bundle nifty little riffs with catchy hooks, while the two lead singles "If So" and "Trojans" are absolutely undeniable. There's nothing complicated (or all that manly) going on here, but I found myself letting this one play whenever it popped up on shuffle during the year.  Why not? Some guys get beard trimmers and tattoos, some get loofahs and pedicures. Who am I to judge? Bright, clean sound, catchy lyrics and riffs, all in a package that's kid tested, mother approved.  These brothers from down under might be on to something.

16. (TIE) The Neighbourhood -- I Love You.; ZZ Ward -- Til the Casket Drops: Next stop on the fun bus takes us to the 90s when hip hop was creeping into everything it touched -- political campaigns, advertising, slang used by soccer moms ("raise the ROOF, son! This is WHACK!") -- only sometimes to positive effect.  Case in point being these two offerings, which capitalize on the genre's cadence and sturdy backbeat while staying true to the originating material (predominantly indie, with a little soul thrown in for ZZ -- but more on that shortly.)

For Neighbourhood, the inspiration seems to be stoner bands like 311 or Incubus, though with more talent and things to say. (My fiancee, a fervent defender of both "bands" probably just spit out her drink as she's reading this.) The band captures the California vibe nicely -- their home, it so happens -- as the album is infused with languid rhythms and a mood that stretches out like a cat in the sun, encouraging you to do the same.  Tracks like "Afraid," "Everybody's Watching Me (Uh Oh)," "W.D.Y.W.F.M.," and "Staying Up" are all woozy warmth, while lead singles "Sweater Weather," "Let it Go," and "Female Robbery" magnify that effect like a nice carmenere. The band puts on a surprisingly good live show, too -- we caught them at Lolla and were won over to check out the deeper tracks.  You should do the same.


ZZ's album is a bit of an anachronism -- it's got clear hip hop and country influences, but doesn't fit neatly in either category; her soul-inflected voice and delivery owes a definite debt to modern acts like Adele, but also hearkens back to the golden era of 60s soul; and the sheer singability of almost every song here tips to pop leanings, but the substance filling the songs belies any bubble gum superficiality.  And thus you've got an album that doesn't really fit anywhere -- one that calls to mind a little bit of everything, but is beholden to none of them.  In short, the true 90s slacker, a misfit with no nation or allegiance.

Which is a long way of characterizing a really great little album -- for all the difficulties your brain has figuring out how to categorize it, the songs go down easily.  From the title track and lead single "Put the Gun Down" to tracks like "Blue Eyes Blind," "Cryin Wolf," "Lil Darlin," and "Move Like You Stole It," these are some really infectious tunes.  ZZ kind of came out of nowhere and still lingers off the radar, but I have a feeling she'll be worth tracking down to see what she does next.

17. (TIE) Guards -- In Guards we Trust; Jagwar Ma -- Howlin': Last stop on the time warp is the early 2000s and our modern bands, which tend to reflect the ADD nature of our kids and dabble in a little bit of everything, from earlier eras to the weirdest, most esoteric instrument/influence/sound you can get your hands on, to varying degrees of success.  These two, at least, get it right, mashing together both the modern and the historic, creating a bit of a butterfly effect when you try to tear it apart.

The Guards are a bit of a mystery -- there's not much written on them (the vaunted AllMusic, for example, has nary a word outside their album's track listings), but that doesn't much matter as the music is so warm and embracing. (For what it's worth leadman Richie Follin started the band as a spinoff of his sister's band Cults with bandmates Loren Humphrey and Kaylie Church and off we go.) Sounding a bit like early MGMT, the band run through a dozen tracks of relentlessly sunny, slightly psychedelic pop that'll have you singing/moving along in no time.  Tracks like "Giving Out," "Not Supposed To," and "Coming True," with their belt it to the rafters choruses all shine, while the Bowie-esque lead single "Ready to Go" multiplies that by 11.  A really consistent and enjoyable (but NOT fun!) debut.

If Guards bring up echoes of MGMT's psychedelic pop, Jagwar call to mind psychedelic tripsters Beta Band (with a healthy pinch of the Beach Boys thrown in for good measure). The Australian trio throw a lot in the pot on their debut, filling songs with sunny three-part harmonies and surfer guitar riffs that ride along on lead singer Gabriel Winterfield's voice like modern day updates to the Wilson brothers' catalog. ("That Loneliness," "Let Her Go")  Others start out as similar romps on the beach before devolving into trippy electro fragments swirling in the round. ("The Throw," glorious lead single "Come Save Me")  Others never leave that realm, dancing firmly in Betas territory throughout, all bird chirps, hypnotic beats, and strange percussion. ("What Love," "Four," "Exercise")  Somehow it all holds together, though, capitalizing on this strange mix of influences for a great little album.

Little Earthquakes: The Best Music of 2012

Greetings, one and all!  Your vaunted Sunshine has returned from a long stretch in the cold to recap another year in music,  thanks to the clamoring entreaties of my one remaining reader. (This one's for you, Noon!) It was a rough year, in many respects -- my work week continued its gluttonous growth, trudging close to 80 some weeks from its previously quaint 60, while the nation dealt with a bludgeoning political campaign, a continually failing global economy, and endlessly enjoyable discussions about the fiscal cliff.  There was a sense of shellshock that developed from it all -- you didn't really deal with any of it, so much as grit your teeth and hope eventually the mortars stopped falling.  That pervasive sense of caution translated to the music world, as well, as everyone seemed to just stand there looking at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. There were no monster albums this year from the biggest bands -- apparently even the juggernauts were afraid to leave their foxholes -- but that absence cleared the battlefield for some gutsy upstarts to shine and their exploits to inspire the rest of the troops.

So while you might recognize some of the folks on here (including almost all of the top five), I think you'll find a lot of new faces in the crowd to get to know, and hopefully will enjoy discovering them as much as I did. Going back through the year like this has become something of an annual ritual for me, and doing so from year to year starts to feel like a trip home for the holidays -- a little predictable in terms of who will show up, though hopefully with a few new surprises thrown in to keep it exciting.  As a result, for some of these bands there's just not a ton new to say about them -- if they've showed up here before (and/or landed in the top five multiple times) you already know all I can think of to say bout them.  The good news if you keep seeing them, though, is that it means they continue to put out outstanding music for us to enjoy -- music that consumed my (y)ear, heart, and mind and hopefully did the same for you.  So in an effort to reward that continuity (and my exceedingly scarce free time, as evidenced by this, my sole post for the entire year), I'll keep my comments for those old-timers brief, unless absolutely necessary, and spend my time chatting up the newcomers, just like at that holiday party.  So tip your glasses of nog to the return of some dear old friends, and spend a moment getting to know some strangers -- I think you'll like what they have to offer.  Happy new year, my friends...

1. The Walkmen -- Heaven: Marking their third straight appearance in the top five the last five years and their highest finish to date (#4 in 2008 and #3 in 2010), this is the first time they've ever sat atop the list, an achievement that is well warranted once you put this one on to play. If you consider where this band has come from and where they're at now, they're almost unrecognizable -- the drunken, shambling sound of their classic "Bow and Arrows" and other early work contrasts starkly with the smooth, self-assured, almost lounge-y vibe of their current work.  What makes these guys so amazing, though, is how they've incorporated and sharpened those early elements -- the dark, nervous moodiness, lead singer Hamilton Leithauser's soaring vocals, the killer guitar work and drumming -- into their new sound and added to it, shifting effortlessly between the styles from song to song. (Or verse to verse, in some cases.)  Songs like "Heartbreaker," "Nightingales," and "The Love you Love" all sound like vintage early works while equally killer tracks "Love is Luck," "Dreamboat," and the title track all showcase their newfound strengths.  In between are a slew of beautiful, moody hybrids that dance the lines connecting the two eras without ever missing a beat.  (Two personal favorites being "The Witch" and "Line by Line," which somehow sound even better when performed live.) Simply put, this is a perfect album from start to finish and the culmination of the band's work to date.

2.(TIE) The Features -- Wilderness; Silversun Pickups -- Neck of the Woods: Splitting the slot for this year's best reason to crank the volume and belt out the jams come two more old favorites from opposite sides of the country, Tennessee's Features and LA's Silversuns. The Features haven't been heard from since 2009 (they landed at #8 on that year's list), but it seems the time off has done them well as they drop a peach of an album on us, one that perfects their formula from earlier offerings and leaves us wanting more. Still present are drummer Rollum Haas' dervish-like percussion, vocalist Matt Pelham's otherworldy yowls (one of the great rock voices going today, known or not), and more of the band's trademark killer choruses, which will have you belting out the words right alongside them. Songs like "Golden Comb" and the monster triple play of "Big Mama Gonna Whip us Good," "How it Starts," and "Rambo" (a song I nearly blew out my voice and/or speakers on too many times to remember this year) show this band at its finest -- monster hooks, catchy melodies, tons of fun. (And great live, too -- we saw them in a room the size of my living room with maybe 30 other people and it was probably the best show I caught this year. Check em out next time around...)

Moving to the west coast, while the Features may shy more towards the pop end of things, the Silversuns are all about Pumpkins-style rock and they deliver their best disc to date, a top to bottom jam filled with fuzzed up guitars and absolutely bludgeoning drums.  Surprisingly this is the first time these guys have officially made the list (despite me wearing their previous two albums out from repeated listening), but they more than earn it with this album as there isn't a bad song to be found.  Songs like lead single "Bloody Mary," "Simmer," "The Pit," and the gonzo closer "Out of Breath" (which also nearly destroyed my stereo/eardrums multiple times this year) all shred, mixing the band's volatile batch of echoey vocals, a wall of guitars, and a thudding rhythm section.  Drummer Christoper Guanlao remains one of the most underrated drummers out there, and like The Kills' Jamie Hince, while he might not be doing anything that's technically all that difficult (and if I can play his stuff, I'm assuming that's true), the amount of raw emotion he gets out of his instrument is enough to make you kick over your chair and start banging on the tabletop. (Check out his freakout three minutes into "Make Believe" or midway through "Busy Bees" for two examples.) These guys continue to punch WAY above their weight and keep your inner rocker alive and kickin'.

3. Grizzly Bear -- Shields: This was the surprise of the year for me. Discovered on a lark -- I picked it up based solely on their hilarious interactions with Stephen Colbert and their subsequent brief performance on his show -- this one continued to work its way further into my brain with each listen and hasn't gone anywhere since. The Brooklyn band's third offering, this one is easily their best to date -- chock full of beautiful melodies, sing-along harmonies, and all-around stellar songs -- but that is not to say this is an easy album to delve into.  The band remains an experimental, non-traditional outfit, weaving an intricate web of skittish, jazzy rhythms, rich harmonies, and moody reverb into songs that are the equivalent of Russian nesting dolls -- ornate, precious affairs that take time to reveal their full beauty.
Lead singer Edward Droste's gossamer vocals are what take you inside, as his lovely harmonies help you penetrate the songs' outer layers.  On tracks like the opener "Sleeping Ute," with its knotty guitar parts and mountain of sounds, or "The Hunt," a hushed, moody affair that throbs like an aching nerve, Droste helps cut through the fog and get through what might otherwise seem opaque.  On more straight-forward tracks like "Yet Again" or "A Simple Answer," you just latch onto his voice and sing along, savoring every note of the lush melodies.  It really is a remarkable album -- even now I struggle with how to truly describe its myriad effects and facets -- but one that is well worth the effort. Beautiful, beguiling, and brilliant, this was my favorite discovery of the year.

4.The Raveonettes -- Observator: Yet another old-timer, these guys settle in two spots below their previous appearance (#2 in 2011) through no fault of their own -- this one's another clutch collection of angelic vocals, walls of wildly distorted guitars, and simple, primal drums, one that's something of a return to form for them. (They largely jettison the keyboards of last year's "Raven in the Grave" and get back to the basics of earlier works, all swirling guitars, black atmosphere, and loud-quiet-loud dynamics.)  Songs like "Observations" and lead single "She Owns the Streets" show the band at its best and highlight both how good, and how understated, a guitar player Sune Rose Wagner is (a point driven home live, as he suddenly and effortlessly throws off blistering runs on the guitar without the slightest bit of animation) while songs like "The Enemy" and "Young and Cold" highlight their other strength, how beautifully Wagner and bassist/vocalist Sharin Foo's voices can harmonize to otherwise fill that space.  Another great album from yet another band that quietly goes about
its business and slays.

5. Andrew Bird -- Break it Yourself/Hands of Glory: The fourth repeat offender in our top five, fellow Chicagoan Bird is back for the first time since 2009 (the lovely "Noble Beast," which came in at #5 that year) with both a stellar studio album and an equally solid EP that serves as a companion piece to those sessions.  Not much has changed from what I wrote in '09 -- Bird delivers "another album laden with hyper-literate lyrics, pitch-perfect whistles, heart-breaking melodies, and a violin used in more ways than duct tape" -- but what's new is revelatory.  There's the Irish-Caribbean fusion of "Danse Caribe;" the building eruption of lead single "Eyeoneye;" the folksy, country vibe that creeps into "Orpheo Looks Back" and most of the EP. They take what Bird does so well and builds upon it, showing his continued growth as an artist and an expansion of his truly unique sound. Even "traditional" Bird songs continue to wow -- from the sultry, lovely "Lazy Projector" to the heartbreakingly beautiful "Fatal Shore" (Which remains my favorite song of the year), Bird demonstrates his considerable talents and his ability to shapeshift from one genre/instrument/mood to the next without sacrificing a thing. He remains one musician I'll follow wherever he roams...

6. (TIE) Macklemore & Ryan Lewis -- The Heist: Kanye West presents Good Music -- Cruel Summer: This one's for the hip hoppers, and that means if Kanye's got an album out you'll likely find him here, as he continues his ridiculous streak of creativity and quality, keeping him head and tails above the rest of his field and landing him on the list for the third year in a row. (And the fourth in the last five.) But before we get to Kanye's latest triumph, we'll start with an unlikely gem from an unlikely source -- a near-flawless debut from a white boy from the mean streets of....Seattle? Showing that truth can be stranger than fiction  (and more than beards, coffee, and killer indie rock can come from the Northwest) comes Macklemore's fantastic blast of an album, an at times overly earnest affair that grapples with everything from homosexuality, substance abuse and recovery, religion, alcoholism, and riches to more laidback fare as thrift stores, Nikes, and pimped out Cadillacs.

Macklemore's flow is similar to Kid Cudi's, laidback as a lounge chair in summertime, but lyrically they're as different as night and day.  Cudi's known for his stoner vibe and spaced out (and at times angry) moods while this album bristles with social consciousness and optimism. (At times to a fault.) The first six tracks on the album are fantastic -- Lewis' beats are crisp and infectious (particularly on lead single "Thrift Store" and the party jam "Can't Hold Us,") Macklemore's lyrics are sharp and socially driven (absolute gems "Same Love," "Thin Line," and "Make the Money") and they're all buttressed with some killer choruses (and surprisingly beautiful melodies) that'll have you singing long after the first couple listens.  (There's also some quietly funny lines feathered in, as with "Thrift Store's" reference to R Kelly's housewares, one of the funniest lines of the year.) At eighteen songs the album could have lost a bit of fluff and been perfect (clunkers like "Castle," "Cowboy Boots," and the instrumental "BomBom" could disappear without incident), and occasionally he wears his heart a bit too much on the sleeve, but when someone's going for it as unabashedly as Macklemore is here -- and when the rest of the songs are SO damned good -- you're willing to  cut him a bit of slack. For as he says on his ode to relentlessly improving yourself and your craft on the album opener "Ten Thousand Hours," 'raw unmitigated heart -- no substitute. Bangin' on tabletops -- no substitute.' I'll take that any day over the jaded, guarded artifice and manufactured bullshit clogging the rest of the scene today. (Next up, American X Factor: with Adam Levine and THE CEE-LO GREEN!) Indeed.

As for the seemingly annual appearance of my hometown homeboy Yeezy, this time he rolls in with an entire entourage and drops an unabashed monster of a party album on us, after months and months of waiting.  (Cruel Summer essentially became Happy Thanksgiving by the time this one was finally released.) Thankfully, the release date appears to be the only thing that slipped as the quality here is sterling and the album is overflowing with riches.  You already knew from the first four singles released prior to the album that you were in for a treat -- the giant singles "Clique," "Mercy," "Cold," and "New God Flow," which came loaded with appearances from 2 Chainz, Big Sean, and Pusha T (who remains the best rapper of the last five years, easily) and some killer, crafty verses by Yeezy himself. (His verse in "Clique" is classic, gonzo Kanye, which includes a single train of thought moving from former CIA director George Tenet discussing cars to mentions of Spike Lee and race, Tom Cruise as a neighbor, Bar Rafaeli, Giselle, Italy, his mother, and God.)

That doesn't even scratch the surface, though -- on the remainder of the album come appearances by fellow Chicagoan Common, Raekwon, and Kid Cudi (on "The Morning"), John Legend (on "Sin City" and "Bliss"), R Kelly (the excellent opener "To the World," which sports one of the best lines to shout along with of the year -- "Bitch, I'm Rick James tonight!"), and the return of former Bad Boy Ma$e (whose appearance on "Higher" takes an already irresistible song to the next level once you realize who's back behind the mic).  Hell, even the bounty of riches on "New God Flow" -- which already sported one of the best beats on the album and a killer gang of MCs -- wasn't enough for Kanye who added a searing verse by Ghostface Killah after the single had already been released.  As I've said so many times before, Kanye remains the most ruthlessly creative guy out there right now, one constantly taking chances trying to top himself or perfect his craft.  And this album is no different, even if it is viewed is a vacation from his normal work.  An arrogant egomaniac or not, he simply continues to make some of the best music available.

7. Regina Spektor -- What we Saw from the Cheap Seats: Like listmate Andrew Bird, Spektor's another old friend we haven't seen since 2009 when she dropped the top five finishing "Far" on us (it finished #3), but find upon her return that not much has changed -- she's come 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," this time feathering in French, Italian, and Russian to the proceedings along with another vibrant cast of characters.  Spektor, like Bird, remains something of a chameleon (or an enfant terrible), relentlessly reconfiguring the elements around her just to see what will happen -- whether it's sonically (gasping for air in "Open" or mouth drumming in lead single "All the Rowboats"), linguistically (moving among the aforementioned tongues in "Don't Leave Me," "Oh Marcello," or bonus tracks "The Prayer of Francois Villon" and "Old Jacket"), or tonally (moving from the dark beauty of "Firewood" to the bouncy "Patron Saint" or lilting "Jessica") her albums cover a tremendous amount of terrain and form an incredibly rich tapestry.  As with Bird, there aren't many out there like her willing to take so many chances and continue to push the boundaries of their sound forward.  Yet another treat from an artist who can make you smile, cry, or soar depending on the song.

8. (TIE) Tennis -- Young & Old; Clairy Browne & the Bangin' Rackettes -- Baby Caught the Bus; Alabama Shakes -- Boys & Girls: This slot's for the throwbacks, the titles that took us back to simpler times and the music that formed their soundtracks -- sixties-style girl pop for Tennis, Stax-era soul for Clairy and the Shakes.  For Tennis' sophomore effort, the husband and wife twosome sharpens the lilting melodies and island guitars of their debut and add a more muscular, fuzzed out rhythm section, which is not altogether surprising considering Black Keys cans man Pat Carney served as album producer.  The enhancement is subtle, but significant -- like putting contact lenses on after years of squinting at street signs. What at times sounded washed out and feathery on their debut sounds fuller and more arresting on their follow-up. From the opener "It all Feels the Same" to gems like "Petition" and the lead single "Origins," each track has that little added oomph that takes the album over the top. If all it took was a little heftier drumming for these guys to really find their groove, let's hope for some more retro magic to come.

If Tennis owe Pat Carney a debt of gratitude for their success, then Clairy and her Rackettes owe Heineken an even larger thank you -- as do I, actually.  For without their relentlessly played commercial over the summer I probably never would have discovered this lass from down under and her merry band of soul slingers. Technically released late last year in Australia, it wasn't until the ads came out this year that the album got any airtime here. And thankfully it did -- for what's inside is a great set of smoldering soul songs.  From the buoyant title track and the blistering lead single from the ad to slower songs like "Vicious Cycle," "Aeroplane," and "She Plays up to You," Browne's enormous voice fills each of the songs with redolant emotion, warming each note with smoky heat like a mug full of mulled wine. They may not be breaking any new terrain here, but if all the originals sounded this good, we wouldn't need em to.

And speaking of homage, the Shakes are mining similar Stax/Volt territory as Clairy (and so many others before them) --  they sport a similarly sultry, soulful lead singer (that of 22-year-old Brittany Howard), have the warm, swinging rhythm section of old, and sing the requisite songs of love and loss, but add a little country-fried twist to the recipe that makes their debut something special.  Part of the allure is Howard's voice, which is massive, unbridled emotion at times -- on tracks like "I Found You," "Be Mine," and "Heartbreaker," she rails and wails like a woman thirty years her senior.  On other tracks she's more subdued, like "You Ain't Alone" and the title track, which are more classic torch songs, and still others, like the lead single "Hold On" or the twangy "Hang Loose," she's the ringleader for the party. The band clearly feeds off of her cues, stepping up or down their attack as every good backing band should, and what they've collectively given us here is nothing short of a fantastic debut.  Keep your eyes on these guys moving forward.

9. (TIE) Alex Clare -- The Lateness of the Hour; Miike Snow -- Happy to You; Django Django -- Django Django:  In a year that lacked any solid offerings from electro's giants -- Guetta's was underwhelming and Deadmau5's was a dud, for two examples -- we were left to find our groove from some of the genre's up and comers.  And while none of these are the traditional club-banger, get up and dance type albums I love (and we so sorely needed this year), they wield portions of electro's armory well, from dubstep to pop and trip hop. British songwriter Alex Clare is the one harnessing dubstep's weapons and instead of focusing solely on that style's bottom-rattling bass lines and wonky sounds of mechanical carnage, he melds them with great little love songs.

An unusual pairing, to be sure -- at least on paper -- but Clare pulls it off effortlessly and makes you reconsider dubstep's longer-term potential. Instead of being a gimmicky, albeit at times undeniable, subgenre tossing out mind-melting, "holy shit, what the hell WAS that" sound effects that trigger something in our primal brains and make you gnash your teeth whether you're on the dancefloor or aisle 6 of the grocery store, Clare shows that those rough and rugged elements provide the perfect backbone to sweet, heartfelt lyrics/melodies that might otherwise sound corny or weak if left to stand on their own.  Songs like "Treading Water," "Relax my Beloved," "Tight Rope," and "Humming Bird" all are perfect examples with Clare's delicate voice and simple, unguarded lyrics bouncing off the weightier dubstep elements to really ring true, and the formula even works on the album's more revved up songs, like "Up all Night" and the lead single "Too Close." (Which owes to Honda what Clairy Browne does to Heineken.) An excellent debut, this one really has me excited for what Clare has for us next.

Stepping into the fray with the more traditional glitz pop elements of electro is the Swedish trio Miike Snow, who fulfill the high hopes of their eponymous debut with this sophomore effort. The trio continues to team up with Yankee vocalist Andrew Wyatt, whose tinsel-thin vocals glide across the pristine melodies, which again come with a disquieting sense of foreboding bubbling under the surface.  Whether the lyrics seem to warrant it or not (as on tracks like "God Help this Divorce" or "Black Tin Box") there's an element of darkness smoldering in each of the tracks, which provides a perfect counterpoint to Wyatt's ethereal vocals.  From the opener "Enter the Jokers Lair" to killer tracks like "Vase" and "Paddling Out," there's a jittery sense of danger conveyed that provides weight to the proceedings and really grabs your ear.  Mix these in with the more upbeat, sunny sounding tracks like "The Wave," "Pretender," and "Bavarian #1 (Say you Will)" and you've got quite a solid album -- two in a row for these Swedish scientists.  Let's hope for the hat trick soon.

Finally comes the debut from the oddly named Django Django, who provide an equally odd, experimental album that sounds like the latest offering from the much-missed Beta Band or some lost treasure pulled from their vaults. The similarities are certainly there -- quirky and weird sonically, but often irresistible (as on the lead single "Default," which fries your brain a minute and a half in with its stuttery, staccato chorus); spare, ethereal rhythms married to lovely two- or three-part harmonies (as on spacy winners like "Firewater" and "Love's Dart"); all from a Scottish quartet that sounds like no other band out there. (Well, minus one.)  Hell, their drummer is even the kid brother of one of Beta's members.  And it wasn't until I listened to this album that I realized how much I missed Beta Band and how unique their sound really is.

It doesn't necessarily go down easy on first listen because it is so jarringly different; it defies description or neat categorization. (I challenge anyone to try and explain their sound without using the Beta Band -- it's damned near impossible without that comparison, and even moreso if your target has no idea who the hell the Betas are, which is unfortunately more than likely.)  The songs are non-linear, lyrically can be non-sensical, and superficially can be clinical and cool.  But the more you listen to them and delve beneath the surface, the more you're treated to the magic of their sound -- there's the tribal rhythms to get you tapping along, the beautiful harmonies to grab your ear, and the vocal layering that bring it all together. (As at the end of "Waveforms," which culminates with a killer chorus in the round, or "Wor," which builds its surfer guitar groove to explosion several times in its four and a half minute length.)  This is experimental music at its best -- edgy without being inaccessible, risky without being profligate.  In a word -- fucking COOL.

10. (TIE) Grouplove -- Never Trust a Happy Song; Harlem Shakes -- Technicolor Health: Following on the thematic heels of the previous couple slots (rap, retro, electro...), this one belongs to unabashed optimism, and while the title of the first band's album might tell you to never trust a happy song, I'd implore you to trust a happy slot as these two albums were turned to numerous times this year for a dose of sonic sunshine.  Grouplove -- an apt handle for an LA-based band whose NY-born members began playing together in Greece and whose sound is a pastiche of folk, pop, new wave, and indie -- deliver an infectious batch of winners on their debut, melding two- or three-part harmonies, belt it to the rafters-style choruses, and a delirious array of handclaps, tambourine slaps, and primal wails before it's through. From album opener "Itchin' on a Photograph" to lead single "Tongue Tied" and "Spun," this album is bursting with heart, joy, and energy (at times it borders on giddiness) and is so convincing and sincere you can't help but be swept away with it. Slower songs like "Cruel and Beautiful World" and "Loving Cup" shine as well and will have you singing along with their big, warm cores. In a year that was as bludgeoning as this one felt at times, we needed an album that was as unbridled and unflinchingly happy as this one to turn to.

Same goes for this slot's other debut, the Shakes' introduction from clear across the country -- a mix of dancy new wave synths and indie guitars from the Brooklyn-based foursome. While Grouplove's sunshine was derived from its giddy mix of everything but the kitchen sink, the Shakes' comes primarily from its pop shine and lyrics, but to equal effect.  From tracks like "Niagara Falls" and "Sunlight," winning odes to their titular subjects, or opener "Nothing but Change, Pt. 2," lead singer Lexy Benaim will have you singing along with his thin-throated voice and feeling the frost thaw on your shoulders.  Subsequent tracks like "Strictly Game" and "TFO" will hammer this home with their ebullient, optimistic choruses. (It's pretty tough to question sunshine so seemingly certain when you're singing "this will be a better year" or "we've got time to make some time" like a mantra.)  The fact that this album actually came out in 2009 doesn't matter -- I discovered it this year, so it counts (take THAT, rules!) -- and it shouldn't to you, either.  If you're looking for a sunny batch of songs to sing along to, the Shakes have got your number.

The Humpty Dumpty Dance -- 2011's Best Albums

If last year was all about rebuilding, this one was about staving off collapse. If last year was about rediscovering yourself and what made you tick, this one was about pushing those things to the limit and hoping like hell they held together long enough to get the job done. This was the year of living on the run -- the year of sixty or seventy hour work weeks; the year of skyrocketing work and diminishing tools with which to accomplish it; the year of the endless hustle and living out of a suitcase. It was the year where often times the only thing scarcer than common sense and logic around the office was the patience to keep fighting against their permanent demise.

This was the year of percussive therapy and narrowly avoided breaks.

If it wasn't for the release of boxing, drumming, and the indefatigable efforts of a bashful belle from Jersey, this was the year I might have lost it. As it was, those three things (plus the surplus of great new music detailed below) were enough to keep Humpty together, and more or less in his right mind. While a lot of things remained the same -- the insults and inefficiencies of work foremost among them -- there were tremendous new discoveries for the intrepid explorer.

Amidst the collapsing global economy and seemingly endless amounts of bad news in the papers (entrenched unemployment, the tragicomic US congress, etc), these pockets of joy and goodness hidden in the rubble unsurprisingly often took us back to simpler times -- the retro soul of Fitz and Penate, the folk sunshine of the Dodos and Decemberists, the unabashed heat of the Kills and Graveyard. For many, this year was about finding a little shelter from the rain; a little break from the mental anguish; a little reason to sing or dance amidst the flames threatening to engulf you.

Thankfully, these albums provided that, time and time again. In a year that was so uniformly taxing and so super-sized in its burdens, we, too, have outdone ourselves and taken this thing to 11 rather than stop the party at ten. Hopefully you'll find some of what you need inside, as I did. There's plenty of goodness to follow, and hopefully more like it in 2012. Until then, here we go:

1. The Kills -- Blood Pressures: For the second time in four years, these guys top the year-end review, and this time it's by a landslide. As cool as Midnight Boom was when it won in 2008 (barely edging out the Black Keys' enormous Attack & Release), this one is somehow several orders of magnitude better, like taking a Mini Cooper and giving it a tank turret and the ability to fly. The band's fourth album is all gritty swagger and malicious intent -- from the scalding opener "Future Starts Slow" through similar scorchers "Satellite," "Heart is a Beating Drum," and "Nail in my Coffin" (as good an opening salvo as you'll find this year), the disc doesn't slow down until the sweet "Wild Charms" nearly twenty minutes in. (Which is only a momentary respite at 1:15 long.)

Guitarist Jamie Hince remains one of the best examples of why you should pick up a guitar, all raw, explosive emotion instead of technical virtuosity, while the band itself remains the epitome of cool, bringing a sexiness and danger to everything they touch. Seeing them live only intensifies the effect, with lead singer Alison Mosshart writhing around Hince's slinky, black atmosphere. Nobody else is able to tap into our most primal instincts like this and force you to succumb to their song's imperatives. Even after repeated listens, the spell this casts remains -- this is serious business, and the Kills remain its most skilled purveyors. Highly recommended.

*1.5. See Below.

2. The Raveonettes -- Raven in the Grave: Showing that age doesn't have to mean diminishing skills, on their sixth album the Raveons follow the blueprint of their previous ones -- angelic vocals, walls of wildly distorted guitars, and simple, primal drums -- while adding a new wrinkle of synthesizers, giving the proceedings a shimmery, new wave feel that wouldn't sound out of place in the 1980s. The band has always managed to sound like a throwback to earlier eras -- be it early 60s doo-wop for the vocals, mid-40s biker gangs for the noir imagery and atmosphere, or late 60s proto-punk for the distorted guitars -- but they've always incorporated the best elements of those eras and added something new, rather than sounding like hackneyed knockoffs.

The same holds on this album, with its atmospheric reverb, hazy silhouettes, and cigarette embers smoldering in the dark. "Evil Seeds" and "Apparitions" strike hard, all swirling guitars, black atmosphere, and loud-quiet-loud dynamics, while "Summer Moon," "Forget that You're Young," and "My Time's Up" provide the counterbalance, with sweet, hushed harmonies and bits of surfer-style guitar riffs bursting out of the calm. "War in Heaven" remains the centerpiece, a near five minute gem representative of the remainder of the album -- at turns dark and menacing, others sweet and innocent, like the two sides of your psyche at war with themselves. Solid as ever, this one gave my divided brain its soundtrack.

3. The Dodos -- No Color: The fourth offering from this San Francisco duo follows up their more sedate sophomore album, Time to Die, with an unmitigated rocketship to exhilaration and a return to form that rivals their classic debut. From the opening "Black Night" to subsequent gems like "Don't Stop," "Going Under," and "Don't Try and Hide it," the album takes off at full speed and you're strapped in for the ride.

And what a blissful ride it is -- singer/guitarist Meric Long and drumming maelstrom Logan Kroeber again cram a seemingly endless array of rhythms, melodies, and sing-along choruses into the album's too-brief 45 minutes, seamlessly hopping from one tune to the next like frogs across the lilypads. Tying everything together is the devastating songstress Neko Case, who sings backup to the boys' exuberance on half the album's tracks. Despite best being enjoyed in its entirety rather than iPod shuffle nuggets, I came back to this album time and again over the year -- whenever I needed a boost, a smile, or a chance to sing to the heavens. Here's to regularly finding all three...

4. Fitz and the Tantrums -- Pickin up the Pieces: Easily one of the year's highest energy offerings, lead singer Michael Fitzpatrick and the rest of his LA bandits exploded onto the scene this year with this spot-on blast of 60s soul. The band pulls off a neat (and by no means easy) trick with their debut, paying homage to a well-worn era (that of such titans as Marvin Gaye, Otis Redding, and the Supremes), while still modernizing and updating the sound. That they do it so effortlessly and with such panache speaks volumes about their potential, making them definitely one to watch the coming years.

As I wrote back in April, the album makes you feel like you've stumbled onto an oldies radio station loaded with Motown classics -- "Don't Gotta Work it Out," the title track, "L.O.V.," "Dear Mr. President," and the lead single "Moneygrabber" all crackle with that generation's pop-timism and lushness and make you smile for a time since passed. And despite repeated, repeated listens, that sensation of familiarity and joy has only intensified the subsequent six months. Each time a track comes on shuffle, I'm blasted back to 1964 and singing along like a teenager before the Sullivan show. Somehow the band has managed to do the impossible -- create an album full of songs that, like that radio station of old, makes you happy and sing along no matter how many times you've heard the tunes. A great time at the jukebox, every time...

5. The Vaccines -- What did you Expect from the Vaccines?: Along with the previous entry, the debut from this gang of Londoners is an all-around blast and one of the best times of the year -- a cheeky return to the joyful days of rock's early days where songs were fun, full of sing to the rafters choruses, and guaranteed to make you dance. There's nary a bad tune to be found. Lead singer Justin Hayward Young (formerly Jay Jay Pistolet of the pitch perfect 25 Songs) and company hold court with a 35-minute blast of 60s era sock hop rock that captures that period's energy well and will have you dancing and pumping your fist in the air like a teenager.

From the album opener "Wrecking Bar (Ra Ra Ra)" to subsequent tracks "If You Wanna," "Blow it Up," and the lead single "Post Break-up Sex," your feet will start moving and your body will be compelled to follow. It's all high-energy stuff, which is not to say it's superficial or cheap, as pop so often is -- Hayward Young's lyrics continue to be full of subtle sweetness and sarcasm. (Check out the lead single or the similar blast "Norgaard" for two stellar examples.) "Wetsuit" remains a favorite, showing how the band shines even when they slow things down a bit and let their songs unfold. All in all, a total winner. This album was endless amounts of fun this year, providing a much-needed release after my endless toils at the office. I can't wait to see what they've got in store for us next...

6. Graveyard -- Hisingen Blues: An absolute atom bomb of an album, the second offering from the Swedish masters of retro hard rock detonates your speakers with their uncanny blend of Cream and Black Sabbath, to say nothing of your brain and eardrums. From the thunderous opener "Ain't Fit to Live Here" to fellow juggernauts "No Good, Mr. Holden," "Ungrateful are the Dead" and "Uncomfortably Numb," the band deftly navigates the time honored quiet-loud dynamic and builds the pressure until songs explode, with lead singer Joakim Nilsson growling and shouting like a revved up Ozzy one minute, then crooning like Jack Bruce in his heyday the next.

In a year full of fantastic discoveries, this was the one I obsessed over most -- I must have listened to this album (as well as their debut) at least fifty times since I first heard them this summer. Something about how they combined the heaviness and force of the 70s best hard rock with the slinky bluesiness that so often tempered its bludgeoning attack was irresistible. I suppose when you're working 60-70 hours a week for the entire year, it's not surprising an album that's catacombs dark, sledgehammer heavy, and ready to steamroll whatever comes your way will be resonant. This one definitely hit the spot, and will likely continue to in the coming year.

7. The Decemberists -- The King is Dead: After the utter debacle of their last album, the prog rock nightmare The Hazards of Love, this album definitely had its work cut out for it. Thankfully, this album is a simple, straightforward delight -- ten songs, forty minutes, and not a forced phrase or complicated conceit to be found. It just bursts with heart from the blissful opener "Don't Carry it All" to the soulful gem "Dear Avery" at its close.

Along the way you're treated to bouncy winners like "Calamity Song," which sounds like early-era REM (a fitting memory as guitarist Peter Buck helped out on several tracks here), the stolid, resilient "Rise to Me," which is belt it to the rafters inspiration, and the twin shot of "Down by the Water" and "All Arise!," which are such country fried goodness you want to don your Ariats and learn how to line dance. All in all, it's a great return to form, made all the more poignant with the band announcing an indefinite hiatus with its release. If they end up not regrouping, it's a heck of a way to go out, all boot stomps, hand claps, and heart.

8. (tie) Feist -- Metals: After the monster success of her sophomore album, with its infectious iPod anthem "1 2 3 4," it would seem difficult for the Canadian songstress to come even close to measuring up with her follow-up. Thankfully she doesn't aim to top herself in search of commercial success, heaping dozens of additional instruments and studio polish over her signature stripped-down sound. Instead, she makes like all aspiring actors, accountants, and lovers should and keeps it simple, letting her glorious voice shine through the album's 13 tracks.

That voice remains a thing to behold -- as delicate and austere as an eggshell in volume, but as beautiful as a Faberge in sentiment. Listening to tracks like "Graveyard," "Anti-Pioneer," "Cicadas and Gulls," and the devastating "Caught a Long Wind" showcase the duality, her voice softly gliding alongside restrained guitar or piano with the emotional weight of a velvet sledge. Throughout it all, Feist remains true to her earlier work -- weaving a slinky sensuality ("How Come you Never Go There," "Comfort Me") into even her quirkier fare ("A Commotion," "Undiscovered First") to create an album that's at turns bright, beautiful, and winning.

8. (tie) The Rapture -- In the Grace of your Love: The return of Luke Jenner and his band of Brooklynites feels like a trip to the gospel choir more than the gritty urban dance floor of his youth (with one major exception), and the change seems to fit them nicely. It seems Jenner had begun to tire of the New York club/punk scene and fighting with his bandmates, so left and joined a choir in an effort to decompress and find a little tranquility. Based on what came out of it, it seems the time away did him well, as the threesome return with an album that's more sunshine and smooth edges than the jagged, gritty pulse of the dark that came before.

Album opener "Sail Away," "Blue Bird," and "Children" are borderline giddy with their soaring positivity, all hand claps and harmony, while tracks like "Can you Find a Way?," the title track, and "Miss You" retain some of the band's edgy charm, hearkening back to their previous classics Echoes and Pieces of People we Love. ("How Deep is your Love?," the aforementioned exception to the church-dappled vibe, is pure youthful fire, six-and-a-half minutes of sheer dance fury and one of the year's best tracks.) Jenner and Co. weave in left field outliers, too -- the Brazilian samba of "Come Back to Me," the odd glam jingle of "Roller Coaster," the languid float down the river of "It Takes Time to be a Man" -- they make a somewhat motley crew, but manage to hang together on the back of Jenner's earnest positivity. As noted before, in a year that so uniformly sucked on the good news front it was nice to have at least one source of unabashed sunniness, warranted or not.

9. (tie) Young the Giant -- Young the Giant: Winner of this year's unbridled sing-along competition is the self-titled debut from this quintet of Californians, an album bursting with sunshine, heart, and big, big choruses. I can't tell you how many dreadful days at the office were cured by one of this album's tracks coming on shuffle, nudging me back to center as I belted out every note on the drive home. The opening quartet is a flawless batch of pure pop magic -- "Apartment" and "My Body" are nifty little love songs, while "I Got" and "Cough Syrup" inject a little introspection and melancholy without turning down the dimmer.

Songs like "Guns Out," "Strings," "12 Fingers," and "Garands" keep the energy up, while "God Made Man" shows the band slowing things down before building to a satisfying summit. Only occasionally do they veer too close to Coldplay-like territory, but even these fleeting moments of weakness are forgiven on the strength of everything around it. This is just a great little album -- a hearty dose of happiness that continues to shine. I caught the tail end of their set at Lolla this year and was won over by their jubilance -- here's to betting you will as well.

9. (tie) Jack Penate -- Everything is New: Serving as chaser to the above dose of California sunshine comes this solo effort from London, which defies its country of origin's traditional dryness and offers a perfect compliment to that debut -- a near-flawless batch of pop songs that blends tropical rhythms and soul-style flourishes to keep the party going. Opener "Pull my Heart Away," lead single "Be the One," and the title track start things off strong, and the album doesn't let up until "Body Down," which draws things to a smoldering, raucous close.

There's an undeniable sexiness to it all -- Penate's echoing croon and reggae guitar dance provocatively over the full, throbbing bass and jazz drums, and I've had more than my fair share of dancing around the apartment with my Jersey girl to the album's tracks. In fact, if there's a knock against the album it's that there aren't more of them -- its nine songs, clocking in at a scanty 33 minutes, are far too brief. If you're going to hit on every song, though, I suppose it's a fine critique to incur. And hit he does -- songs like "Every Glance" and "Give Yourself Away" are brilliant, and like the rest of the album leave you wanting more. Here's to hoping he doesn't make us wait long.

10. (tie) Wild Flag -- Wild Flag: The debut from this Portland female supergroup reinforces the rule half its members regularly bludgeoned into peoples' heads with their previous outfit (the band features two-thirds of former bomb factory Sleater-Kinney) -- just 'cuz they're ladies doesn't mean they can't bring some serious rock. Anyone who thinks differently, besides being a fool/sexist, is just missing out. Lead singer Carrie Brownstein thankfully sets aside her NPR headphones and Portlandia scripts to once again shred on guitar, leading the charge with former bandmate Janet Weiss in tow. (Every bit as devastating a drummer as Bonham and long the Bonzo to Brownstein's Page in that one-time Fem Zeppelin.)

The two, along with fellow indie lasses Mary Timony and Rebecca Cole, wage war through 11 songs of epic rock bliss, sounding like a more melodic version of Heart -- think RiotGrrrl, only with three-part harmonies. They run roughshod through gems like the opening "Romance," "Future Crimes," "Black Tiles," and "Glass Tambourine" (which could easily have been released in 1974 without sounding out of place.) Brownstein's vocals still slightly grate (I was always more a Corin Tucker fan in their old three piece), but the music is what matters most here -- after minor lyrical offerings, the gals repeatedly break away into epic little jams, with incredible guitar runs and "ooh/aah" harmonies swirling throughout Weiss' increasing fury.

That the bulk of the songs somehow stay under four minutes speaks to their amazing ability at compression. (The major exception being the jaw-dropping "Racehorse," which is nearly 7-minutes of pure fire and easily the album's best track.) You will not feel cheated, though -- this disc is dense and hearty like cassoulet, so fire it up and get ready to rock until you drop.

10. (tie) Kanye West & Jay-Z -- Watch the Throne: Filling the male end of this supergroup slot comes this monster from the Chicago/NY titans. The album's release was as close as this country ever comes to a communal cultural event anymore, and was very simply requisite listening. It had people from every walk of life lining up to see what the current king of rap and his precocious kid brother would cook up -- an epic jam or an utter failure. The fact that it wound up being the former when the bar was SO very high (and the desire for many to see the much-maligned Kanye fall flat on his ever-jabbering face equally, if not more, pronounced) is nothing short of remarkable.

Rather than it being a divided album like latter-day Outkast albums had become, where each of the tandem's diametrically opposed halves gravitated to their own songs, sections, or entire discs instead of melding with their counterpoint, this allowed each man to play to their strengths while still forming a cohesive whole. Jay-Z was able to drop the ultra-materialistic verses I normally abhor, rapping about things most one-percenters would have no idea about (Audemars, Margiela, Miele -- I felt like a hayseed from Kansas, I had to look so much crap up), while Kanye offered his from-the-heart, emotional (some say delusional) lines while exploring his seemingly endless inspirations, creating another album that's chock full of divergent interests and styles.

The album just FEELS big -- and that has nothing to do with the amount of money spent or the cache of its participants. (Which are obviously rather elephantine.) There's something here for everyone -- the smoldering opener "No Church in the Wild," the soul-sampling single "Otis," the haunting and hard "Gotta Have It," the thuggish "That's my Bitch," the social consciousness of "Murder to Excellence." The album seems to draw from everywhere, but like Kanye's masterful My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, doesn't sound weaker or harried as a result. Hell, one of the songs -- the positively gonzo "Ni**as in Paris" -- samples the Will Ferrell ice skating laugher Blades of Glory and winds up being one of the best party jams of the year. When you think of how titanic a bust this could have been, with all the hype, egos, and expectation behind it, even the album's more mediocre tracks shine. Proof positive of the benefits of taking risks and setting your sights high.

11. (tie) Radiohead -- The King of Limbs: Released with relatively little pomp and circumstance from their website, British giants Radiohead sent forth their ninth disc in a similar vein to their previous two albums, In Rainbows (I & II). Those albums built upon the elements of their predecessors -- lots of nervous energy and twitchy electro beats intermingling with Thom Yorke's ethereal moan -- while cutting in a new-found warmth and sexiness. This album continues the trend, combining that sensuality with an ever-intensifying complexity as the band piles layers upon layers to their songs, leading you incrementally towards that glorious moment where it all snaps into place.

This one grew on me over the year, as I think it did with the band -- once they figured out how to play these songs live (as in their fantastic performance on the Colbert Report, for example), the songs really came to life. Opener "Bloom" and "Feral" began to positively pulsate with nervous energy, while "Morning Mr Magpie" solidified its spot as the epitome of what this style can achieve, crackling with anxious urgency. Juxtaposing these tracks with the album's back half (and some of its best overall songs) worked even better than on first listen. Songs like "Separator," "Give up the Ghost," and "Lotus Flower" became redolent, filled with Yorke's soaring voice and the band slinking along in lockstep, while the muted gem "Codex" remained king with its simple beauty -- just Yorke alone at his piano with his wounded wail, pouring his heart out to the heavens. Like the band, this album just kept getting better with age.

11. (tie) Wilco -- The Whole Love: The twin to the former entry's venerable veterans, my hometown heroes return with their eighth disc -- right in line with their one on, one off annual production rate -- and show off why they remain one of the best bands in the country. Finding that sweet spot between their more experimental impulses (as on the 2002 classic Yankee Hotel Foxtrot) and their more blissed out, Sunday morning sweetness (as on 2009's top Wilco (the album) or 2007's Sky Blue Sky), the album marks those boundaries firmly with the opening and closing tracks. "Art of Almost" represents the former, a seven minute serpent that coils and strikes as it leads towards its arty freak-out, while "One Sunday Morning" handles the latter, a twelve-minute dose of sunshine folk perfect for a drive down the coast.

The intervening 12 tracks are a dance between those goalposts -- the smoldering "Black Moon" and delicate "Rising Red Lung" and "Open Mind" shy toward the band's quieter, more insular tendencies, while "Dawned on Me," the title track, "Born Alone," and "Capitol City" are all bright, poppy blasts. Substantively, some of the band's signature lyrical impact is gone -- Tweedy seems to have muted his autobiographical (or at least more baldly emotional) impulses on this album, opting instead to write more generic, impersonal lyrics -- and the album lacks some emotional resonance as a result.

This is not to say the songs are flimsy or phoned in -- it wouldn't be on here if they were -- but rather evidence of a band opting to flex their muscles and have a little fun, rather than work out their emotions and anxieties in public. (Check out the tracks "I Might" and "Standing O," which are pure swaggering showtime, for proof.) Considering all the bad news permeating our everyday lives this year, choosing not to dwell in the darkness is an excusable sin, especially when it sounds so good. Let's just hope Tweedy doesn't wall off his introspective side forever --we need artists with voices like his to help make sense of the things around us, good and bad. In the meantime, I'm all for a little play...

***WINNER, THE JUST A SECOND TOO LATE AWARD*** 1.5. The Black Keys - El Camino: The latest installment from Ohio's prodigal sons -- who've since picked up stakes for Nashville after years in the Rust Belt's tender belly -- is yet another gem. I've listened to little else the two weeks it's been out, and if it'd come out even a month earlier it would likely be fighting with the Kills for the top spot as during their 2008 showdown on my year-end list. (Even so, let's call their final placement 1.5 -- it's that good.)

The Keys are somewhat akin to Hall & Oates in how vastly their sound differs from their look. To only use your eyes you'd see two sets of somewhat nerdy looking white boys up on stage -- close your eyes and engage your ears, though, and you're treated to a relentless parade of songs that make you want to move and shake. Songs that are at turns sexy, soulful, and -- if you're the Keys -- blissfully fuzzed out rockers. Neither duo does anything complicated -- both take the most traditional song forms of the urban experience (R&B if you're Hall & Oates, the blues for the Keys) and funnel them through what appear to be a couple of guys on break from the nearest suburban Staples.

It once again proves the folly in surface assessments, though, because what a string of songs it is -- the buoyant opener "Lonely Boy" with its surf rock-style guitar and jubilant one-man dance party video; "Little Black Submarines," a perfect modern day Zeppelin cut with its delicate, finger-picked start that abruptly explodes into percussive fury two minutes in; "Run Right Back," with its howling guitar line sliding over Carney's thudding tribal drums; "Sister," with its irresistible metronome and straight-up blues swagger. There's not a bad song in the bunch. And as with every great album, your favorite shifts the more you listen. (My current fave is "Hell of a Season," with its skittering high hat leading you into the glorious flail of the chorus.) A promising sign for an album I'm already wearing the hell out of. (The HELL!) These guys just continue their onslaught...lucky us.

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We'll close with a couple of singles, the first an absolutely gonzo mashup of Johnny Cash and Eazy-E -- that's right, the prince of Nashville and the gangsta from Compton -- who collide on this track from DJ Topcat. The result (other than possibly causing cerebral hemorrhages) is a roll down the windows and crank the stereo jam that works in spite of the lunacy of its pairing. Check it out here:




The second is a debut from the latest young Youtube ingenue, Lana del Rey, a twenty-something pop belle who has issued a couple of 60's style retro soul singles, including the fantastic "Video Games" below. Del Ray's voice seesaws between sweet delicacy and sultry huskiness, and it works to haunting effect on the sun-dappled lead single. Coupled with the video and its home movie-style footage, there's something eerie and nostalgic about the song, and it had me listening to it on repeat for the first dozen or so times I heard it. The follow-up single "Blue Jeans" causes a similar effect, but this one remains the most potent. Check it out here:



Until next time, amici...