Best of 2009 … So Far

After a considerable delay – I started writing this at the beginning of August, though I had been planning this as far back as the end of June – I now offer my entirely subjective “Best of 2009 … So Far” list.

Much like my “Best of 2008″ blog entry from earlier this year, I’m going to be providing capsule reviews of albums I feel are the best of the year, so far. I’m limiting myself to 10; anything that didn’t make the list is outlined below. Also, I’m reviewing albums released between January 1 and June 30, 2009; that means no Sugar Ray, Our Lady Peace, or Jet albums until I do the “Best of 2009 … The Rest”! You may also notice that the albums I’ve reviewed are a little more “indie”; this is because very few of my favorite bands or musicians have put out anything worth mentioning. Also, I like indie music, so sue me.

Now, onto the albums:

Just beyond the list (in no particular order):
Neil Young, Fork In The Road
Bat For Lashes, Two Suns
Dinosaur Jr., Farm
Soap&Skin, Lovetune for Vacuum
Son Volt, American Central Dust

Honorable mentions:

Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion
I’ve seen this album plastered at the top of nearly everyone’s collective list of favorites so far this year, but it has yet to affect me in the same way. I certainly can’t deny its excellence; it’s the kind of music that would translate well to a summer day in a park, with seemingly random (yet entirely calculated) bleeps and bubbles punctuating the songs, yet I haven’t given it a whole lot of attention. That’s entirely my fault, and I imagine I might post a retraction at some point in the future, but for now this album sits just outside the circle of the Best of 2009. Still, the languid ‘No More Runnin’, with what sounds like underwater steel drums forming a trance-like melody, has already made an impression, even if several minutes do pass by before I’m able to reacquaint myself with my surroundings.
Defining song: No More Runnin’

various artists, Dark Was The Night
Where else can you get an album that features some of the strangest bedfellows in indie-dom? How about the Dirty Projectors with David Byrne on an anarchic recording called ‘Knotty Pine’? Or Cat Power turning in an amazingly soulful rendition of ‘Amazing Grace’, making it sound less like a parody that everyone knows (there’s more than one verse, you’ll be surprised to know!) and more like a rebirth? Or how about an other-worldly, downright spooky chamber orchestra recording of Blind Willie Johnson’s ‘Dark Was The Night, Cold Was The Ground’? The album, compiled for the Red Hot Organization to raise awareness and funds for HIV and AIDS, is a grab-bag of artists that, like most charity albums, features them exploring music well outside their comfort zones; it’s not all successful, but, unlike most charity albums, it’s interesting, and well worth the purchase. And if it helps raise money to battle HIV and AIDS, then that’s also worthwhile.
Defining song: too many to define just one • Check out the Red Hot Organization’s website for more information.

And now…

Top 10 Albums of 2009 … So Far

10. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, It’s Blitz!
I would be remiss to not mention this album: my good friend Sarah has been extolling the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’s virtues for quite some time, and I have only recently taken a notice. Six years after their debut album, Fever To Tell, the Yeahs return with another trashy pop album, chock full of synthesizers with pre-programmed Euro dance floor beats and confrontational attitude that might be off-putting to a lot of people. I think it’s fun, and while a lot of the songs sound very samey, vocalist and frontwoman Karen O exudes an ADD-ridden swagger that is infectious and, truth be told, a little emasculating. ‘Skeletons’ is the most immediate and effective song, sounding both hyperactive and relaxing at the same time. It’s not a definition of their general sound, but it’s a nice change from the full-on aural assault of the earlier tracks.
Defining song: Skeletons

9. Bob Dylan, Together Through Life
Does the world really need another Bob Dylan album? One could argue that he was last relevant in 1975 (or 1969 – or 1966 – or 1965 – or 1962), and that he’s really just putting albums out because it’s what’s expected of him. But after the latter-day masterpieces Time Out Of Mind, “Love And Theft”, and Modern Times (though I still find the last title sort of ho-hum), his latest album has a certain freshness and joie de vivre that is lacking in his most recent albums. Recorded almost off-the-cuff (news of the album wasn’t known until about six weeks before its release), Together Through Life was inspired by the trials and tribulations of love in this uncertain time. David Hidalgo from Los Lobos is a heavy presence here, adding accordion on every track, giving the album a slightly cajun feel to it, while Dylan, who turns 68 this year, sounds rough around the edges, vocally, but his energy is palpable, and the album’s impromptu nature is refreshing.
Defining song: If You Ever Go To Houston

8. The Decemberists, The Hazards of Love
I love a good rock opera, especially if it’s nice and verbose. Dictionary rockers the Decemberists don’t disappoint with their follow-up to The Crane Wife, one of my favorite albums of 2006, though hardcore falls will certainly cry foul at their gradually progressive leanings. It reminds me a whole lot of Jethro Tull’s Thick As A Brick: it’s practically one track, with a narrative that is damn near impenetrable. There’s a great deal of light and shade here, with songs bouncing from sprightly, acoustic folk rock to thundering, bluesy slow burns with crunching guitars and booming drums. (Special mention must be given to guest vocalists Becky Stark and Shara Worden, who add a nice, atmospheric dimension to Colin Meloy’s poetic suite.) It’s not quite Tommy, but it’s a nice reminder that prog rock can still be celebrated, even at the risk of being called a nerd.
Defining song: The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowning)

7. Phoenix, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
If Frank Zappa is a credible source, then things are a little different and weird “in France”; I can’t tell you how happy I am to discover that Franco-rockers Phoenix has produced a really great album, and it makes me a little sad that I only discovered them this year. They sound a lot like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, with synthesized melodies and dance-floor beats, but whereas Karen O is the epitome of adorable (if slightly intimidating) aggression, Phoenix is happy-go-lucky pop, through and through. If the opening salvo of ‘Lisztomania’ and ’1901′ don’t get you, the long, meandering, and mesmerizing ‘Love Like A Sunset’ will.
Defining song: Love Like A Sunset

6. Wilco, Wilco (The Album)
A girl I went on a few dates with two winters ago once went through my iPod and was alarmed – maybe even outraged – that the only Wilco albums I had were Sky Blue Sky and Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. I tried to explain myself by saying that I intended on getting their earlier stuff, but the damage was done. I say this not to illicit sympathy, but as a defense that there’s nothing wrong with being introduced to a great band by way of their later stuff. The amusingly-titled Wilco (The Album) (there’s also a ‘Wilco (The Song)’, which sounds like frontman and songwriter Jeff Tweedy fell asleep one night while listening to the Velvet Underground’s Loaded) isn’t as commercial or immediately accessible as Sky Blue Sky, as if the band had become aware that their music had become too polished, and wanted to go back to their roots. Yet, what are their roots? They aren’t really alt-country here, nor are they exploring the depths of Americana, but there’s a relaxed chillness to the songs and performances, which is inherently definable as Wilco. The best song is ‘Bull Black Nova’, written from the perspective of a man who just killed his girlfriend; there’s a nervous energy here that, while not comparable to, say, Talking Heads, is still saying a lot for this laid-back bunch.
Defining song: Bull Black Nova

5. Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest
“Precise” appears to be something that is frowned upon in the rock world. It’s true in the case of Chinese Democracy (yes, I listened to it), one of the biggest letdowns of 2008; so if you’re “calculated” in the studio, there’s already an air of pretension around you. Grizzly Bear’s newest, named after an island in Massachusetts, is precision-perfect, yet you wouldn’t know this from the final mix, which makes it sound slapdash and spontaneous – again, two words that are more often seen as bad qualities than good. Veckatimest is light and airy, with various levels of depth to it that rewards patient and curious listeners while offering a sonic goodie-bag of wonders that will keep any music fan interested. The most immediate track is ‘Two Weeks’, with vocal harmonies that would make the Roy Thomas Baker-produced era of Queen jealous, but it’s the laid-back peaks and valleys of ‘All We Ask’ that sums up this album perfectly.
Defining song: All We Ask

4. Elvis Costello, Secret, Profane & Sugarcane
This might seem like blasphemy to some, especially those who know that Elvis Costello is my absolute favorite musician of all time. (Sorry, Pete Townshend – but you’re still #2!) Considering his prior album, Momofuku, topped my 2008 best-of list, this may seem like a huge fall from grace, but I assure you, it’s still a good album. Elvis goes hardcore bluegrass for the first time, notching up another genre on his belt while adapting it as his own; but it’s not entirely successful, and, as I’ve mentioned before and will probably mention again, the songs are too subdued to really compare to his latter-day renaissance. Still, there’s not really an unlistenable song on here, and it’s the affecting charm of ‘The Crooked Line’ (sung as a duet with Emmylou Harris) and the jovial travelogue of ‘Sulfur to Sugarcane’ that make the album worth the purchase – especially the latter, in which Elvis endears himself to the ladies of Ypsilanti and their apparent loose morals by gleefully claiming their preference of going commando.
Defining song: Sulfur to Sugarcane

3. Bruce Springsteen, Working On A Dream
This album sort of got lost in the onslaught of new album releases this year, and that’s really too bad, because Springsteen has been putting out some consistently great music ever since 2002′s The Rising, and Working On A Dream is no exception. Whereas the songs he wrote post-9/11 are characterized by bleakness and slight pessimism, the new songs, written in the light of Barack Obama’s presidential nomination and eventual triumphant win in November 2008, have a cautious optimism to them, especially in opening trifecta ‘Outlaw Pete’, ‘My Lucky Day’, and the title track. But it’s the gentle acoustic folk of ‘The Last Carnival’ and ‘The Wrestler’ that resonates the heaviest: as terrific as the E Street Band is, the intimacy of Bruce, an acoustic guitar, and his emotional, mushmouth vocals is transfixing.
Defining song: My Lucky Day

2. Neko Case, Middle Cyclone
If this list were called “Best Album Covers of 2009 … So Far”, Neko Case’s Middle Cyclone would absolutely be on top, by a wide margin: the fiery red-headed singer-songwriter is perched on a 1968 Mercury Cougar, sword drawn and a look of determination on her face. Who said that art is a dead concept in the music industry? There’s a very organic, natural feel to the album, something that is often lacking in an age of ProTools and computer-perfected sounds, so it’s good to hear the atmosphere of a room leaking into the tracks. Having been recorded in a converted barn, Case’s lyrics are inspired by the flora and fauna that we often take for granted. For good measure, a cover of Sparks’s ‘Never Turn Your Back On Mother Earth’ is given a gorgeous treatment, though it’s an impassioned rendition of Harry Nilsson’s ‘Don’t Forget Me’ that’s most startling. (Anyone who can get through the half hour ‘Marias la Nuit’, which consists entirely of ambient pond sounds, without being gently lulled to sleep gets my highest respect.)
Defining song: Don’t Forget Me

1. Regina Spektor, Far
Having had no exposure whatsoever to Regina Spektor until about a month ago, I was intrigued to read Bob Boilen’s take on the album. So when NPR streamed the entire album for free on their website, I decided to give it a listen; what would I have to lose? If I didn’t like it, I could turn it off. Happily, that wasn’t an issue: as soon as the album had finished, I paused, took a breath, and clicked “Play again”. It was, and is, that good, and there are very few albums I can remember having that kind of an effect on me. To be honest, I’d be very surprised if anything came out in the latter half of the year to top this album; it’s good, brilliant pop, stuffed with piano, orchestration, gorgeous vocals, and clever lyrics and interesting wordplay to keep anybody intrigued. Even less substantial songs like ‘Dance Anthem of the ’80s’ have a bright and shiny demeanor to them, but for a taste of what epitomizes this album and makes it so brilliant, ‘Eet’ is the song to check out.
Defining song: Eet