Best Of 2010 … So Far

So… life, huh? After considerable delay – I had first hoped to finish this in July, then September, then at least by the end of 2010, but life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes – I have finally finished my “Best of 2010 … So Far” list. Because I liked the format that I went with last year – splitting my top picks of the year into two lists – I’m sticking with what works!

Honorable mentions:

Barenaked Ladies, All In Good Time
I must admit that when Steven Page left Barenaked Ladies, and they announced they would be continuing on without him, I sort of lost interest – but only because the dynamic between the five Ladies seemed so strong, so without that crucial fifth member (and eccentric lead singer), this wouldn’t be the same band I knew and loved from high school. However, I listened with slight trepidation to All In Good Time, and while it’s true that the songs aren’t laced with the nerdy humor of yesteryear, there’s a certain maturity that is charming and endearing. Page’s presence is sorely missed, but Ed Robertson has stepped into the de facto leadership role with relative ease, writing the majority of the songs, many of which are laced with regret toward his friend’s troubles (‘You Run Away’) or some not-so-subtle jabs at the predicament (‘Golden Boy’). Luckily, he has strong songwriting contributions from Jim Creegan and Kevin Hearn, the latter who contributes the hypnotic closer – and best track – ‘Watching The Northern Lights’.
Defining song: Watching The Northern Lights

The Hold Steady, Heaven Is Whenever
Having had no previous exposure to the Hold Steady, I bought into their hype with a reluctant ear, wanting to write a discerning capsule instead of going all hog-wild for them, as most have seemingly done. Also being unaware of their history, I found that Heaven Is Whenever is a solid album, but not as good as it had been built up to be. There are a lot of loud, anthemic songs here, but nothing too discernible from the other. It’s one of those “listen to this with the windows down in the middle of summer” albums that I cherish, which is enough to get it on this list – because that means I’ll be returning to it next summer, and, with any luck, something will stick out to me. Until then, the epic closer, ‘A Slight Discomfort’, is the only thing that really stands above the (admittedly well-written and performed) rest.
Defining song: A Slight Discomfort

Top 10 Albums of 2010 … So Far:

10. Band of Horses, Infinite Arms
Having been a fan of Band of Horses with Everything All The Time, Infinite Arms was high on my list of anticipated releases for 2010. Unfortunately, it’s more of the same, which isn’t always a bad thing, but I like to see a band progress with their music, instead of just offering the same old thing. Still, if rootsy, autumnal folk is what’s desired, then Infinite Arms delivers in spades. There are even a few surprises, including the orchestra-led ‘Factory’, and the vocal harmonizing and melodies are all superb. However, there aren’t really any standout tracks, which is a shame, because this was one of those albums that had a lot to live up to after its predecessor. But it still serves as a wonderful late-night summertime soundtrack, to be listened to while driving around or staring up at the sky in a remote field.
Defining song: Laredo

9. Horse Feathers, Thistled Spring
I discovered Horse Feathers at the Philly Folk Fest back in August, where they were on the main stage, just prior to Jeff Tweedy’s awesome solo set. After a few acts of good quality but whose folk classification was tenuous, I was pleased to finally hear some authentic folk music with Horse Feathers. Their line-up of voice, acoustic guitar, cello, violin, and a handful of extraneous, unconventional instruments appealed to me, so I did what any curious music fan would and listened to their discography. Thistled Spring stood out to me, with its after-the-thaw production and refreshing performances all around; Justin Ringle’s voice exudes naked beauty and frailty, while his touching and often pain-tinged lyrics are augmented with the aural landscape of atypical (for folk music) instruments such as trumpet, saw, harmonium, and glockenspiel, among others. The result is as if a quartet of classically-trained musicians got lost in the woods in the beginning of April and decided to write some songs to wait for the snow to melt fully and for the nearby babbling brook to reach full coolness.
Defining song: Heaven’s No Place

8. David Byrne & Fatboy Slim, Here Lies Love
Leave it to David Byrne to write a conceptual album about Imelda Marcos, wife of former Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos and disgraced shoe addict, and her nanny, Estrella Cumpas. But leave it to Byrne to actually make it interesting, touching, comedic, and – most importantly – infectious. This is a pop record, for sure, less contemporary pop and more in tune with what was popular during the time frame; there are disco, Latin, soul, and club songs here, all written not just to be diverse for the sake of diversity, but to plant the listener squarely in the middle of the events. Armed with a handful of guest female vocalists – again, less to namedrop and more to serve the mood of the narrative and the song – including Tori Amos, Martha Wainwright, Natalie Merchant, and Cyndi Lauper, among others, Here Lies Love paints its tragic heroine as a well-meaning and misguided doyen of fashion, who legitimately believed that her jet-setting and high profile appearances would be a boon to her starving and impoverished people.
Defining song: Every Drop Of Rain

7. The National, High Violet
Up until the summer of 2010, I had never heard of the National. Perhaps I hadn’t been keeping my ear to the train tracks as closely as I had hoped, so when I heard the first single, ‘Terrible Love’, in anticipation of their new album, I became quickly enamored with it. As someone who doesn’t particularly enjoy repetition in lyrics or music, High Violet is an anomaly, because its lyrics are particularly repetitive, but there are nuances to the music that is sonically pleasing and engaging. The production touches give the album a rootsy, autumnal feel to it, and the subject matters that are tackled run rampant from proud fatherhood (‘Afraid Of Everyone’) to educated wartime guilt (‘Lemonworld’). It’s a diverse album for sure, and Matt Berninger’s monotone vocal delivery recalls that of Ian Curtis, where he emotes a world-weariness, no matter what he’s singing about – this works best on ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’, where the narrator has to return home to his parents; whether for economical reasons or for holidays, it’s a humbling and not very pleasant emotional experience, having to relinquish autonomy, if even for an extended weekend.
Defining song: Bloodbuzz Ohio

6. The Black Keys, Brothers
Abandoning the swampy, morning-after pot hangover of Attack & Release, the Black Keys return with a familiar blues crunch, with the duo of Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney managing to sound like a classic 60s blues quintet, by way of distorted guitar, thundering drums, fuzz bass, and the occasional stabs of organ. Channeling the spirits of Led Zeppelin and Howlin’ Wolf, Brothers still retains some of the psychedelic swirl of previous albums, but it’s more focused and concise, with a cover of Jerry Butler’s (not, sadly, Rick Astley’s) ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ thrown in for good measure. But it’s the haunting ‘Too Afraid To Love You’, which sounds like a slowed down amalgam between ‘Happenings Ten Years Time Ago’ and ‘For Your Love’, that combines the recent with the distant past the best.
Defining song: Too Afraid To Love You

5. Joanna Newsom, Have One On Me
Double albums have always been a record company’s marketing nightmare – it’s a lot of information to present to a typically ADD-ridden music-buying public – but the rare, elusive triple album has rarely been seen, outside of career retrospectives or live albums. Sandinista! was one of the first, and Joanna Newsom’s Have One On Me now joins the ranks. It’s not an easy album to get into – only three of the 18 songs are under five minutes – and Newsom’s voice may be off-putting at first, but its stunning lyrical construction and sparse and unorthodox arrangements (the harp, which is Newsom’s instrument of choice, has been replaced for the most part by the more conventional piano, though it occasionally rears its head) is magnetic. On top of that, Have One On Me tells a lengthy and painful story of a blossoming relationship and all its emotional rollercoasters, with each six-track disc serving as a chapter; the album, and romance, ends with the mournful ‘Does Not Suffice’. It’s a harrowing and ambitious listen, but Have One On Me is a beautiful album, and with enough patience, it’s a wholly rewarding listen.
Defining song: Go Long

4. Eels, End Times
From Joanna Newsom’s breakup album to Mark Oliver Everett’s divorce album, End Times is a painful and dense listen, and, having gone through my own emotional upheaval twice this year, the bluntness of this album strikes just the right chord. Even through the pain there is some joy, as E finds himself knocking around his house by himself, and even seems to sort of like it. However, it’s a broken heart record for sure, and there doesn’t seem to be much happiness; yet there’s very little self-pity, even as E laments that “in my younger days, this would have knocked me down / But I would have bounced right back, y’know?” Much like Have One On Me, this is a harrowing and emotional listen, and on ‘Unhinged’, E finally comes to terms with his loss: “We were good together, as good as it gets … You were more than my girl / You were my best friend”. By the album’s ender, ‘On My Feet’, he’s certain that he’ll be alright; “I just gotta get back on my feet.”
Defining song: Unhinged

3. She & Him, Volume Two
Two years after releasing the charming and adorable Volume One, the sequentially-titled Volume Two is a sugary sweet follow-up that conjures memories of the simpler days of radio, when reverb and echo were the tricks of the time. As I have a permanent schoolboy crush on Zooey Deschanel, my love of this album is gonna be biased, but – surprisingly – I don’t find it as immediately accessible as its predecessor. It’s got all the hooks and has a more polished feel to it, which should make it more attractive to me, but I think the coy, ramshackle approach of the first album gives it an edge over this one. Still, Volume Two is a superb album, with 11 self-penned tunes and two covers (‘Ridin’ In My Car’ and ‘Gonna Get Along Fine Without You’) which, unlike the first album’s covers, are tackled in such a manner that you’d be forgiven for mistaking them as originals. M. Ward is still suspiciously absent on vocal duties, only getting a line here or there, but considering he has his own parallel solo career, this is probably for the best: despite the band name, these are Deschanel’s songs, and it should be her show, but Ward’s masterful production is a definite benefit. Is it too soon to anticipate Volume Three?
Defining song: Home

2. OK Go, Of The Colour Of The Blue Sky
This is an album that I fell in love with almost immediately, and, for most of the year, I had this as my top pick of the first half of 2010 – and it’s because of infectious, hooky melodies, more of an edgier pop-rock sound, and the music videos, dammit! Beyond the gimmicks – and let’s be honest, OK Go has some brilliant gimmicks – the tunes here are substantial, full of pain and misery and joy and hope. ‘I Want You So Bad I Can’t Breathe’? We’ve all been there. ‘This Too Shall Pass’? A song of encouragement in dire times, and my own personal anthem for this year. But it’s ‘While You Were Asleep’ that resonates the most: “Can’t you love me? / Can’t you love me how I want, please?”
Defining song: While You Were Asleep

1. Dr. Dog, Shame, Shame
Up until the beginning of October, I had no idea that Dr. Dog existed. But after being introduced to them by way of someone who has a far broader taste in indie rock music than I do, Shame, Shame has been constantly played on my iPod, and served as my soundtrack to and from work for more than a week. Will I get tired of it? Probably, but I’m riding such a high with this album that I don’t care about the inevitable backlash. This is well-constructed pop, harking back to a simpler time of the Beatles and the Beach Boys, and sounds a lot like something Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson would have written, with the added benefit of having Queen as their backing vocalists. There’s still something wholly original about them, and it may be my bias to my return to Philadelphia, but the occasional landmark references to my hometown adds another layer of appreciation to the music. Each song is a winner on this album, and choosing one is difficult and damn near impossible, but it’s ‘Shadow People’ that’s stuck in my head right now, so it’s ‘Shadow People’ that gets the honor of “Defining Song”.
Defining song: Shadow People