Top Ten Albums of 2010
It's about that time of year – my annual top ten albums list. 2010 was a weird year, mainly because a lot of albums that should have been right up my alley were ones that I hardly listened to at all. I chalk that up to being largely tired of the “indie” sound. I have albums by The National, Ted Leo + the Pharmacists, the Hold Steady, and several more critical darlings that I did buy, but I just could not get motivated to listen to them at all. I'll put it this way, in 2010 I purchased the entire Led Zeppelin catalog, the entire Doors catalog, finished off my collections of Iggy & the Stooges and the Velvet Underground, and racked up about a million greatest hits albums. If there was much interesting going on in guitar-based music, I must not have heard about it.
But let's not be negative, let's celebrate what was awesome this year. I'll start off with a pair of albums that are completely free, and you should download them immediately.
HONORABLE MENTION
These are both remix albums of sorts. Brad Smith's “Moon8” is a chiptune version of Pink Floyd's “Dark Side of the Moon,” and Max Tannone's “Mos Dub” is kind of a mash-up between dub instrumentals and Mos Def's vocals. Both come off great. Moon8 works for me partially because I'm in that age group that grew up on the original Nintendo, more so than Pink Floyd's work. The combination of the two ends up being more trippy than the original for me, largely due to the countless hours spent absorbing the blips and bleeps of Super Mario Brothers. Moon8 might end up being a one-spin curiosity, or you might end up really digging it, like me.
As for “Mos Dub,” I found the vastly different feel to the instrumentals has a huge effect on how Mos Def comes off. I'm a big fan of his work, but I wouldn't describe a lot of his work as danceable or airy. But backed by dub (a reverb-laden instrumental strain of reggae), the content of his lyrics pack nearly the same punch, but he bobs along the music in a way that sounds less didactic than triumphant – a willingness to play in the face of a problematic existence. “Mos Dub” is what a remix project ought to be in my mind; a complete retextualization of source material that shines a new light on them as well.
Most bands break up in the midst of making an album like this, and that's what makes this album interesting enough to crack the list. And sure enough, bassist Carlos D left Interpol once the album was complete. Interpol's history isn't an uncommon one; band gathers a ridiculous amount of buzz, goes major-label, doesn't sell like the label hoped, band gets dropped. At least for the moment, that's not the end of the story. Critically speaking, both their major-label debut (“Our Love to Admire”) and this album were not treated with the same kind of kid gloves their first two albums (on major/indie Matador) were (witness Pitchfork's 4.6 review of this album). Yet, I can't find a bigger hook on the first two albums than on “Our Love to Admire's” “The Heinrich Maneuver,” and neither is the early lyrical content any better than on this self-titled album.
The best way I can think of to describe the tone of this album is an exasperated “what do we do now?” There's a tough, tested tone to this album that finally matches their sound – if “Interpol” sounds melancholy and at the end of their rope, that's because they are. If that doesn't yield a single, so be it.
I'm pretty excited to finally see Interpol play next month. Part of that is that I've liked all of their albums, but there's also part of me that wonders if this is the last hurrah for the band. The Julian Plenti solo album didn't take off, this album hasn't been particularly warmly received, I wonder if they're likely to stick it out and keep struggling against the tide. At the least, it's fascinating to me to get such a raw document from a point in most band's careers that doesn't often yield a finished product.
9. Robert Plant - “Band of Joy”
Honestly, this album is on the list mostly for the cover of Los Lobos' “Angel Dance.” That's not to say that the rest of the album doesn't bring the goods, but “Angel Dance” is the goods. Beyond that, it's interesting to see Plant re-invent himself and his sound in an interesting way. Many performers of his vintage may go the acoustic route and gently strum themselves into the sunset, but Plant's album isn't necessarily gentle or precious. And I have to admit, that's a relief. This album represents an adaptation of his skills, not an abandonment of them.
8. Infant Sorrow - “Get Him to the Greek”
This soundtrack nearly pulls off the impossible – recreating a “Greatest Hits” package of a fictional band in one go. It's not a perfect album, but most greatest hits packages aren't really that full of hits anyways. Perhaps the biggest surprise is that Russell Brand can sing (or at least do a reasonable facsimile of a rock star). I wouldn't claim a ton of artistic merit on behalf of this album, but I have listened to it a ton. There's a side of me that never gets tired of a note perfect 80's pastiche “The Clap” or Brand's fictional ex Jackie Q singing songs about her bunghole. Pop careers have been built on less!
7. Grinderman – “Grinderman 2”
Nick Cave is out of his fucking mind. That's probably the best compliment I can pay the man, and this album is the proof. He practically growls his sexual drama from his bowels – this is music straight from the crotch. And I don't mean in a pleasant, love-making, smoothing it out for the ladies way. This is not dignified, grown-up music, it's nasty, wry, funny, mean stuff. I'm glad that Nick Cave is making albums like this.
This is a popular critical choice this year, and for good reason. I generally don't listen to pop/dance music, but I own this album. I don't know how everyone else stumbled upon it, but I was up late, watching “Letterman” and Robyn was the musical guest. I was blown away by her performance – she brought it. I mean, it was the kind of performance where I immediately got on my computer and bought the album. That's some serious thunder, especially by someone with a 80's Brigitte Nielson haircut (what is it about Sweden and that haircut? I think the chick from Roxette even had that same 'do).
In any case, I'm pretty sure Robyn could beat up Katy Perry, and that's a basic requirement for me to buy a pop album. It doesn't have anything to do with how good this EP is, but you've got to have standards.
5. Big Boi - “Sir Lucious Left Foot: the Son of Chico Dusty”
What, you thought this one wasn't going to kick ass? There's kind of a natural three-way comparison of albums this year between Big Boi's, Kanye's, and Cee-Lo Green's (which I'll get to). Kanye didn't make my top ten, mainly because even though it's a good album, the subject of the entire album is himself. Big Boi's album doesn't have much of a subject, it's the product of a supreme talent without a ton to talk about, which is a little frustrating. Only a little, because the album's really, really good. In fact, “Shutterbugg” is so good that I didn't even get around to listening to the rest of the album for months. I would just play “Shutterbugg,” and it was like a buffet on its own. And, like I said, I'll get to Cee-Lo's album in a minute.
I did eventually listen to the whole album, and I really like it. I'm not going to hold it against Big Boi that he's not tackling deep subjects – that's par for his career. He's just really, really, really good at what he does. So this is also really, really good.
4. Jimi Hendrix - “Valleys of Neptune”
Of course I want more material by Jimi Hendrix. Short story – three seminal studio albums (well, four if you include the Band of Gyspys live set, which you really should count), and that's it. Absolute brilliance expressed over a tragically short span of time. Hendrix recorded more material than was covered in the aforementioned catalog, and a lot of that trickled out haphazardly over the years. So some of the music on this album has been heard before, but this is the first such collection since the Hendrix family regained control of Jimi's estate. The bulk of what's here would have been on his unfinished fourth studio album, so while it's not necessarily as coherent as it might have ended up, it's still pretty damned good.
Highlights include, well, the whole thing's a highlight if you haven't heard it before. I was very curious about the instrumental cover of Cream's “Sunshine of Your Love,” as well as the new titular track. I wouldn't say this is as flawless as the initial three studio albums, but if you're into Hendrix, I don't think this is going to be a disappointment.
3. Devo - “Something for Everyone”
This might be the biggest surprise for me for the year. If you had asked me a few months ago if I was excited about a new Devo album, you probably would have gotten one of those WTF looks. Sure, like everyone else, I like “Whip It” and “Girl U Want” and “Jerkin' Back and Forth.” But that was an eternity ago – kids conceived to those hits are old enough to vote and drink and rent cars now. Devo hadn't put out an album of new material in probably a decade. Oh, and Devo apparently market-tested the tracklist, as well. Honestly, it sounds like a train-wreck waiting to happen.
But then, the album doesn't suck. Not only does it not suck, it's pretty awesome. The first single, “Fresh,” is peppy and weird, just like you'd want Devo to sound. As you listen through the album, it's apparent that these guys haven't been lazing around and getting dull. It's propulsive music, there's no way to stay still while listening to this album. Not only that, but the lyrics are pointed, clever, and at least as interesting as the music itself. Devo sounds motivated, which is something else that I hadn't expected. That probably says as much about me and my own musical prejudices, and I'll own that. But this album was an unexpected thrill, which are increasingly few and far between.
2. Cee-Lo Green - “The Lady Killer”
Just like last year, I had a very difficult time separating the top two albums of the year. The top couple of albums usually separate themselves from the pack quickly and easily, but it's kind of matter of 1A and 1B.
Like I mentioned before, this album begs comparison with Kanye's and Big Boi's. Kanye's gets docked for being about himself, Big Boi's gets docked (very minimally) for not being about much at all, and Cee-Lo pulls ahead of the pack for at least offering some conceptual unity (and not being about Kanye West). But ignoring all of that, this is a beautiful album. It's lush, it's catchy as hell (I'm sure you've heard about “Fuck You” by now), it's a complete album. There's not a dud in the bunch. It's a tight product from a true talent.
I'm not sure what else to say about this album – it's the best of the bunch this year of the Motown/Stax revival sound (nods to Sharon Jones and the Budos Band for also putting out worthy material in that vein.). But I think what makes this such an excellent album is the sort of likeability that Cee-Lo himself projects. There's a very short list of people who could get a song titled “Fuck You” any kind of airplay at all. And despite the confrontational title, it's not an off-putting song, it's inclusive and sung with a smile. As Cee-Lo said on the Colbert Report about his tattoos, it's about showing you can take the pain. And if such a weird, round little man can swear on national TV with a joyous smile about getting done wrong by a woman, maybe we all can get through whatever we're going through.
1. Superchunk - “Majesty Shredding”
I've always generally liked Superchunk, but I wouldn't call myself a superfan or anything. And call me nostalgic, but I've got a soft spot for angular, punky guitar rock. This album is a perfect example of coming back from a hiatus because you want to and the time is right, rather than simply because you've got nothing better to do (Soundgarden, I'm looking at you). And Superchunk is up to par here. Their EP a couple of years ago was a nice appetizer, but this is the full meal. You can even compare the EP version of “Learned to Surf” to the more fully-fleshed out version on this album.
I hate to admit it, because I was totally enjoying this album before I saw them play on Jimmy Fallon, but that performance totally sealed the deal for me.
EDIT: Well, the video seems to have been blocked. Thanks for not letting me promote your show and a great band, NBC/Universal!
Look at the energy and joy they're playing with, watch the performance again just to see how the crowd is reacting to them. It jumps off the screen. It made me want to jump off of my couch. I can't explain how disappointed I was when I had to miss their show in Portland – I just wanted a piece of that energy for myself. I can't remember the last time I've been that excited listening to a song, and for that, Superchunk gets my album of the year.
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