Best of the Oughts: Albums 91-100

This is the first installment of my Best of the Oughts series. Today's post is the first ten of my best albums of the decade list. I love all the records on this list. Just because these ten are at the bottom does not mean I dislike them.

Numbers 91-100 actually have a decent representation of women. Despite my feminist leanings, I am not very good at filling my collection with female performers. However, the ones I do include are typically among my favorites. I'll spend loads of money on mediocre-to-crappy male musicians for some reason. I guess those are the limitations of gender roles on one's record collection.

There are also some marginal releases from really great bands at this end of the list. I sometimes prefer an OK album from a great band because even their worst material is better than the best unknown bands. That or I am a sucker for rock tradition.


100. St. Vincent - Marry Me
I bought this months after it was released on a trip to Seattle. I have to say that I was blown away from the first listen, so intense and complex. The layers, textures, and incredible performances on this album made me wonder whether Annie Clark is the female Sufjan Stevens or the other way around.


99. Wolf Parade - At Mount Zoomer
The last two tracks get me every time with this one. It's no Apologies to the Queen Mary, but it's not as bad as some thought. This is the album Wolf Parade meant to make before Isaac Brock got a hold of them. (Also, this is easily the worst album cover of the decade.)


98. Silver Jews - Bright Flight
David Berman is maybe the most gifted wordsmith on this list. His best work was in the last decade, but this was a good send-off to his musical career.


97. Sleater-Kinney - One Beat
This was Sleater-Kinney's protest album. What were they protesting? What have you got? 9/11 just happened and George W Bush was running the country into the ground. This provided some good material.


96. Devendra Banhart - Cripple Crow
I have forgiven Devendra Banhart for his hippie ways. How can you not when someone records an album like this that transcends jam bands, indie rock, and punk?


95. The Black Keys - The Big Come Up
Dirty and fat are the licks on this record. You should only listen to this on vinyl. Oh, and they're from Ohio.


94. Sunset Rubdown - Random Spirit Lover
There's a ton of Vancouver all over my top-100. This is another from from the Wolf Parade co-op. Difficult but so worth the effort.


93. Radiohead - Amnesiac
It's amazing what Radiohead has done this decade. Here's the first of several Radiohead efforts on the list. I never saw the direction they've taken in this century since OK Computer. Truly inspired.


92. The White Stripes - Elephant
By the time Elephant came out, the Stripes were huge. The sound on this record matches their hugeness better than any other point in their oeuvre.


91. Belle and Sebastian - Dear Catastrophe Waitress
I don't know exactly where I'd rank this among the Belle and Sebastian records, but it does hold some special memories for R and I. I haven't been impressed much from the material coming out of B&S alums since. This may have been the beginning of the end.

Andrew Bird and St. Vincent

Due to some early returns on my poll, I chose last night's Andrew Bird/St. Vincent show over tonight's Grizzly Bear/Beach House gig. I based my decision mostly on the fact that I prefer St. Vincent over Beach House. The headliners don't mean much to me either way.

I don't usually arrive in time to see an opener, but St. Vincent had me intrigued. Her albums are wrought with difficulty and confusion. I mean this in a good way. St. V, aka Annie Clark, has a varied past which includes stints with the Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Steven's touring band, not to mention a Texas upbringing. These experiences have provided her with a unique sound that is challenging even to the most obsessive indie geek.

Then there's her voice. Both classical and enchanting, Clark draws you in past the cacophony of her music to that warm space in her center. Thankfully, despite some road-weariness and a crummy sound system, her voice rang true.

While the performance wasn't particularly urgent or dramatic, the material did translate well. In fact, St. Vincent's sound actually rocked more and created noise I didn't think was possible.

I'm new to Andrew Bird. I purchased a couple of his albums on iTunes earlier this week to get a sense of what I was about to see/hear. Bird's music reaches some incredible heights. There are moments of sheer brilliance scattered throughout his work. Some of his arrangements are incredible, urgent, massive. The lyrics can be quick and witty, sometimes surprising. Conversely, mediocrity is also there. There a certain amount of accessibility that is certainly supported by Bird's turns on the festival circuit. This mediocrity attracts college dudes and hippies who like a jam band or four. Similar has been thought of Ben Folds or Mason Jennings. These men are all quirky, incredibly talented, but way too pleasing to their audience's whim. So, for me, the jury was still out on Mr. Bird.

To be honest, I don't have much to say about Andrew Bird's set. It sort of bored me and never grabbed my interest. Though the crowd certainly love Bird, they didn't seem all that moved to me. I don't know. Maybe I just don't get it or maybe I've just been to too many shows. Whatever it is, Andrew Bird did nothing for me.

So, I left part-way through the set. I ended my evening where it started earlier with a beer at the new Broadway Brewery. I was home before R was asleep. Maybe I would have had a better time making Grizzly Bear this week's show, but I'll never know. Next up: The Walkmen at Mojo's on Sunday.

Reviews of Music I Bought in Seattle, Part 1

In case you hadn't read my previous post about my trip to Seattle, I bought a lot of music while in the Emerald City. There are so many great, independent record stores in Seattle, thankfully. I spread my resources out at Sonic Boom, Silver Platters, and Easy Street. Here are a few of my purchases. I realize the first is like two years old and the other's been out since last year, but that's just what I bought.

Final Fantasy - He Poos Clouds
Two Hundred Ten Words: This is maybe the first and last band I purchased solely based on an article in the New York Times. It also may be the only band I've paid the cover to see, only to leave early because of a late starting time and work the next day. Final Fantasy may also be the only group I've forgotten about until the Times mentioned Owen Pallett and his one-man-band in a recent Sunday magazine article.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Pallett combines the chamber punk of Rachel's with the looping showmanship of Built to Spill while connecting to the baroque pop of Arcade Fire. And he does all this with his piano, violin, and soft voice. He writes dark songs of loss and fear that are beautifully sinister.

Pallet's lyrics are loaded with the sort of loathing and depression not heard since Morrissey's heyday. Stories of unrequited love, the loneliness associated with fantasy, and the ultimate betrayal of a loved one haunt Final Fantasy records. The undertones of teen angst and suicide are prevalent throughout He Poos Clouds. However, for the uninitiated, this may not be as good a jumping off point as his previous work. This album is truer to Pallet's classical leanings and focus on anti-rock beauty.

The one song that makes it worth all that space in the Times: "This Lamb Sells Condos"

Number of Clouds He Pooed: 3.5

St. Vincent - Marry MeTwo Hundred Ninety Words: I hate it when I am drawn to an album based on a memorizing image. Then, I take that image and make my own back-story, trying to make sense of a band's media attention. Even when I start to see pics on my favorite blogs of said band's musical performances, I skip over the articles and try to make sense of it all. Finally, I read one article about the band, realize I'm way off base, buy the album, and never regret the purchase though it proves my instincts wrong.

This is my relationship to St. Vincent. I saw the album's cover photo and found myself fixated. The doe-eyed look, pasty-white skin, and semi-wild jet-black hair provide an indelible image I could not turn from. This also concerned me that the album might be a case of image over substance.

Well, upon hearing the record, I don't have to worry about that anymore. The portrait is of Annie Clark, the primary creator and performer in St. Vincent. What she creates is a sound that pulls wispy vocals that rival Feist, strength not heard since Exile in Guyville, and the sultriness of a Portishead. Clark attains the same creative fervor of Tori Amos without getting too whimsical. The versatility to reach all the heights of other female, solo performers is proudly displayed all over Marry Me, Clark's full-length debut.

Of course, her prowess knows no gender gap. The complex instrumentation stands up next to former co-performer Sufjan Stevens. She displays the creativity of moving beyond the rock/pop structures of her former bands to create something fresh and personal like Eric Bachman. Annie Clark put together a solid record that rivals any indie rock record I've heard in the last year.

The one song that makes it worth the Tori Amos comparisons: "Now Now"

Number of Curls in Clark's Hair: too many to count