My 47 favorite songs of 2008

Compiled this a while ago and only now finding the time to post it. Typical musesthrown - always a couple months late!

You're probably scratching your head at the number 47. Well, basically these are the songs from last year I feel like advocating. No matter what arbitrary multiple of 5 or 10 I chose, somebody worthwhile was getting left off. So I decided just to choose all the songs that I felt at least relatively strongly about, and that would be my list.

As always, this embarrasingly reflects the particularity of my listening/purchasing habits - I'm still trapped in an album/CD-centric mode. I bought 51 CDs which were released last year; 33 of them are reflected here. So of course many of them have more than one entry on the list. (Only The Bug should really have 3 songs on here, but I decided to limit myself). But, y'know... if I hear a song I like on www.pitchforkmedia.com or www.cokemachineglow.com I almost always buy the album. Many of these are just those songs.

In the interest of time, I'm only going to offer quick notes on some of these. Drumroll, please....

47. Autechre - bnc Castl

Those crafty Autechre guys have managed to catch on tape, for the very first time, the bizarre music all your electronic appliances make when you're not home. Who knew the microwave was such a kidder? And that fax machine - whoa!

46. Women - Black Rice
45. Wye Oak - Warning
44. Crystal Antlers - Vexation
43. Marnie Stern - Vault
42. My Morning Jacket - Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Part 1

Almost the only song on the otherwise wretched Evil Urges that I can stand to listen to. Given the precedent of Z's "It Beats for You," it appears we can rely on MMJ to provide exactly one near-perfect woozy/vulnerable/slightly spooky ballad per album.

41. TV on the Radio - Dancing Choose
40. Deerhoof - Chandelier Searchlight

In a review of Offend Maggie that I read, this song was referred to as "rockabilly." And sure enough, it's got that stand-up bass thing going on. When the chorus kicks in and she starts singing "Love, love, love, love, LUH - UH - UH - OVE!", my heart stops every single time.

39. Of Montreal - For Our Elegant Caste

Any song that starts out "We can do it softcore if you want, but you should know that I go both ways" would be memorable. When it's by Of Montreal, that phrase is going to be stuck in your head for the rest of your life.

38. Max Tundra - Orphaned

"Follow the bouncing ball," Max says. And it's so captivating and so creative, I happily do so for almost four minutes. Then he starts singing and the magic disappears a little. But only a little.

37. Kingdom Shore - Stray Bullets Singing...

I can't do much better than cokemachineglow, who describe this song as a conversation between the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, played by violins. Utterly subversive, utterly creepy, and bonus points for evoking all my favorite images from The Evil Dead, Pt. 2.

36. Gang Gang Dance - Vacuum
35. Fleet Foxes - Ragged Wood
34. Plants and Animals - Bye Bye Bye

My suspicion lasts about ten seconds, and then they drop that Queen-referencing chorus on my ass and it's all over.

33. Chad VanGaalen - TMNT Mask
32. Of Montreal - Triphallus to Punctuate!

Skeletal Lamping was overall an unfocused, self-indulgent mess. What makes it truly tragic is that Kevin Barnes' obvious talent and creativity don't need any tinkering, as this song aptly demonstrates.

31. Presets - If I Know You

An electro pop ballad makes my "best of" list? Which blog is this anyway?!? Yeah, well - listen to the vocal on that chorus and tell me I'm wrong. Musically, it's the least adventurous track on the mostly-edgy Apocolypso, but damn if it hasn't been stuck in my head ever since I saw the video on Pitchfork.

30. The Week that Was - The Airport Line

Neither of the Field Music brothers' individual offerings in 2008 really grabbed me as full albums, but they both boasted at least one killer song. I don't even hold it against this one that the killer drum track is SOOOOO lifted straight out of Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill," cuz this one is just as elegant and sweeping.

29. Dodos - Jodi
28. Cut Copy - Far Away
27. El Guincho - Cuando Maravilla Fui

The punchiest beat on an album that's full of nothing but.

26. School of Language - Disappointment '99
25. Snowman - The Gods of the Upper House

Kingdom Shore versus Snowman for the best aural evocation of a horror movie in 2008? Advantage to these Australians. Not because they're better/more talented musicians, but because the vocal on this song makes my skin creep like nothing has since "Panzrama" (see my favorite songs list of 2006).

24. Portishead - Nylon Smile
23. Radiohead - Weird Fishes/Arpeggi

Radiohead write a ballad, and it manages to be both beautiful and characteristically gloomy/creepy.

22. Plants and Animals - Good Friend
21. Autechre - fwzE

The exact moment when a sentence could contain the words "Autechre" and "fun" and the basic stability of the universe isn't threatened.

20. Leila - Little Acorns

Sometimes a song just needs a single gimmick, and if it's a good one the artist can repeat it for three or four minutes and it never feels stale. The three-handclap beat on this one still makes me giggle, but we also get a fantastic, ever-changing bass line, great interplay between the horns and keyboards, and truly bizarre little-kid wordless scatting.

19. Fleet Foxes - Quiet Houses

Russ says "sonic wallpaper" and I'm not even sure I disagree. But I love the muscular bass on this one and damn if those vocal harmonies don't slay me.

18. Flying Lotus - Camel

The epitome of "cinematic": in that it evokes a progression of images (but I won't ruin yours by sharing mine); in that when that wall of keyboards kicks in I suddenly feel exactly like I'm sitting in a vast, dark space completely transfixed by what's happening in front of me.

17. Stereolab - Nous Vous Demandons Pardons

Late-career Stereolab are disgustingly slick and shiny, like aural teflon. So it's all the more impressive when they can still manage to be punchy.

16. TV on the Radio - Golden Age
15. Snowman - We are the Plague

Cool drum interplay, standard dub bassline, faux-spooky vocals on the verses. Fine so far, but then the singer opens up his throat on the second verse and suddenly the entire thing feels intense, edgy, frightening. They are the virus, they are the plague - and you're infected, bitch.

14. Flying Lotus - GNG BNG

Let's assume the missing vowels are both a's. In which case this song is perfectly named, cuz that's exactly what it feels like - getting nailed hard by three different studly beats in rapid succession, in half the time that it used to take the Chemical Brothers to pull off this sort of thing.

13. Thank You - Embryo Imbroglio

Song title of the year. The sound of tribal warfare, all shouted wordless aggression and scorched-earth jagged guitar and martial drumming. Only the Bug managed to sound more dangerous than this.

12. Jim Noir - Don't You Worry

Easily the most immediately catchy song I heard in 2008, a triumph of ambiance and smart pop songwriting - so who needs originality?

11. The Bug - Jah War

Utterly, completely terrifying. When the Apocalypse occurs, God will choose Flowdan to be its narrator. And this is the Bug's shining moment as a producer, the skitter-skatter call-and-response drums and bass giving you not even a second to get your footing while the echoing "Jah"s buffet you from all sides.

10. Crystal Antlers - Until the Sun Dies (Part 2)

The missing Part 1 must be the "Until" segment of the story, because this sure as hell sounds like the solar death itself in all its glory. "Prog" in its ambitions (but not - thankfully - it's length), unrelenting in its intensity (even during the quiet part), and perfectly balanced at the point where beauty and chaos overlap.

09. Sigur Rós - Gobbledigook

Sigur Rós channeling Animal Collective could have been a) a pretentious, muddy, unlistenable mess; or, b) sublimely beautiful and woozy. Smart lads chose option b. And accompanied it with a video that makes woodland nudity seem playful and innocent.

08. Chad VanGaalen - Poisonous Heads

First of all: that bass line. It's squelchy and menacing and makes this relatively minimalist song sound thick with dread. The sing-songy verses just don't prepare one for the frantic rush into the chorus, and Chad sings these lines "The only thing left was our poisonous heads, and the curse that's been EATING OUR MI - YI - YI - YI - YI - YI - INDS!" with an intensity that obviates any concern about what any of it, y'know, means.

07. Portishead - Machine Gun

Your first two decade-old albums are considered classics. Your reunion is hastily announced and greeted with equal measures of excitment and suspicion. Most bands in Portishead's position would have played it ultra-safe. Bless their souls, they didn't return with a tired old revamp of "Sour Times"... instead they dropped one of the most alien, hostile, challenging slices of sound ever. And it fucking slays. Beth Gibbons as a lounge chanteuse never made any sense to me; this is exactly the sort of aural environment her voice was meant to inhabit: on the edge of a precipice, staring into the void, terrified and vulnerable but eerily resigned. Admit it: you hated this the first time you heard it, but only because it hadn't yet rewired your head.

06. Hercules and Love Affair - Hercules Theme

A proud entry in the "more is SO much more" category, "Hercules Theme" is stuffed past bursting. The horns! The strings! The hi-hats! The coo'ing vocals! All so delirious and inviting that you know this dance floor will always have room for more more more sweaty bodies. Oh yeah - also the gayest shit I've heard in a really long time that actually felt like a fresh appropriation of the past instead of just another tired retread.

05. Deerhoof - Snoopy Waves

Deerhoof hire a new second guitarist, and the world is a magical place all over again. I suspect this will sound ridiculous, but the call-and-response interplay between the guitars during the 20 seconds between 0:23 and 0:43 just makes me happy. Oh, and it's a love song addressed to California, and I'm so on-board with that sentiment.

04. Cut Copy - Out There on the Ice

The best New Order song of the last 20 years. I have no clue what "You don't know what to do / There's a game now, who'll be there for you" means, but damn if I didn't sing it all year long. And the tail end of the coda between the second and third choruses, where the bass is burbling and the wall of synths is rising and falling, is so 1989 it really DOES break my heart. Sneaky bastards know it too, imploring immediately after "Don't let it tear us apart, even if it breaks your heart!" I thought the Presets put out a better all-around album, but this song was my guilty glorious pop pleasure of 2008.

03. Future of the Left - Plague of Onces

Fifteen years later, someone finally comes up with a credible response to Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run." This being Andy Falkous, it's brutal, honest, hilarious. Sure, he recognizes all these onces are a plague, but nevertheless: "Why put the body where the body don't want to go?" In other words, he's had your shit and it's tired. And just to make his position unassailable, he backs it up with one of the most lacerating (and honestly jaw-dropping) guitar riffs I've heard in a while. Somehow the bass and drums - despite sounding like they're from two entirely different songs - manage to weave the whole into a water- and outrage-proof fabric. And then they get all stoopid on the chorus just because they can. (See also: "Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues"; some scholars have suggested this is in fact just Part Two of that song.)

02. The Bug - Fuckaz

It's not even the best song on London Zoo (that would be #11, above), but nothing punched me in the gut harder in 2008 than Spaceape's astounding rant on this song. The most awesome thing about it is that 'ape is pissed off at everybody. For every two "fuck-tha-man"-type sentiments expressed on here, there's also a doozy like "Fear those people whose worthless ambivalence leads to nothing but frustration and self-obsessed anger." Sure, the system sucks, but so do you if all you do is sit around and bitch about it. It's brilliant as social commentary, and it's doubly brilliant as a means of getting your ass UP and MOVING. After spitting through two verses of outrage and bile, Spaceape pauses to catch his breath, the music suddenly shifts (and takes my already-fragile equilibrium with it)... but rather than pretend to have anything resembling a solution, all he can do is repeat "How did we get here, and where do we go now?" over and over like the question is his only defense against complete despair. And I don't have any answers either, because I'm just trying to pick my heart up off the floor. Utterly fucking brilliant.

01. Thank You - Empty Legs

2008's take on "Atlas?" Granted they share electronically distorted vocals and crazy beats and rhythmic intensity (apparently this is a recipe for my digitally-bestowed love and approval). But despite sharing similar means to my favorite song of 2007, "Empty Legs" has entirely different goals. This song does not want to be your friend. It isn't inviting you to join its party; it's whistling your ass out of the house to witness a scene of chaos, a cycle of destruction and rebirth. Its interest in you dancing to it is only inasmuch as you dancing would be another form of your submission to it. And good luck dancing anyway, because this is the most bat-shit crazy drumming EVER.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm frankly at a loss to describe this song in any concrete terms. It's sitting here at #1 because it's not like anything I've ever heard before - and that's the real recipe for my love and approval.

Let's try this again... starting with: My Favorite 20 albums of 2008

Uncanny how it's almost a year to the day that I decided to stop writing on here... and here I am deciding to give this another go. Actually the decision was made a while ago; as always with this venture my ambitions outpace my ability to realize them. But, as long as I remind myself I'm far from a "professional" blogger and this is mostly about personal edification and the odd person or two who actually reads it, all is good. I'm also going to forego my "literary" aspirations and try to keep postings brief and to the point. Which is usually: I liked/didn't like this, and here's why.

So, without further hand-wringing and navel-gazing: here are my favorite 20 albums of 2008. I'll preface by saying '08 was a disappointing year in music for me. Certainly nothing like the powerhouse that was '07. Nothing in '08 hit with quite the force of a Grindstone or a Mirrored, and nothing (least of all its follow-up from Kevin Barnes) was as all-around consistent as Hissing Fauna... . Also, 20 is sort of an arbitrary number, is all I'll say, without wanting to present back-handed endorsements. Here they are:

20. Snowman - The Horse, The Rat and The Swan

Sneaks onto the bottom of the list by virtue of its two absolutely killer tracks "We are the Plague" and "The Gods of the Upper House". Who knew "industrial" could still sound this fresh and scary 20 years later?

19. Jim Noir - Jim Noir

Tuneful, immediate, and actually fairly consistent. Not to mention, almost a better Stereolab album than the one that actually bore their name. Another case where good melodic skills and occasional quirky choices win out over the obvious retro-ness of it all.

18. Dodos - Visiter

This would easily be five spaces higher on the list if the production on the album managed to capture the manic energy of their live show. Watching/listening to two guys create this much sound, absolutely laden with internal dynamics, is something I highly recommend.

17. Deerhoof - Offend Maggie

Back in my good graces, as I pretty much predicted they would be. Not as overall mindblowing as The Runners Four or (as if...) Apple'O, but the handful of best songs on here - "Snoopy Waves," "Chandelier Searchlight," "Fresh Born" - easily stand among their best. Having a two-guitarist lineup again makes all the difference.

16. Stereolab - Chemical Chords

At first I was offended. Stereolab have been making the same damn album for fifteen years now. And the production is so slick! It sounds like something you could buy from a vending machine, shiny and prepackaged, a big bundle of empty calories. (Not to mention - how does it take six people to create this stuff?) But damned if, by the end of the year, a good number of these songs weren't sort of permanently lodged in my consciousness, popping up and waving with big cheesy smirks from time to time. So... fine. I concede. The melodies are great, the songs at least swing if they almost never cut. In short, another Stereolab album.

15. Radiohead - In Rainbows

I know, I know... "this came out digitally in 2007." And changed the world with it's breathtaking break from the record industry, yadda yadda. I'm probably the only person on the planet who actually waited to purchase it until it came out on physical CD. Said release date being 1/1/08 in the U.S., so bite me - this was an '08 release for me.

Overall I agree with cokemachineglow's opening salvo: "all bets are as hedged as they are final." But hey, Radiohead have earned the right not to have their feet held to the fire with every new release. They don't always have to be the most important band on the planet! They said that they "just wanted to release an album", and they succeeded. And it's still sitting on this list, so apparently I liked it. Ed Selway's beats just keep getting better - he's the one guy in this band who never seems like he's treading water. And for all the blather about how this was Radiohead's "love" album, Thom Yorke still mostly (and appropriately, given that voice) sounds like he's predicting the end of the world (though I will grant the standout track for me - "Weird Fishes" - succeeds by virtue of its tenderness, rare territory for these guys).

14. Presets - Apocalypso

Should I be embarrassed by this? Search in vain for the appearance on this list of that other electro pop album that came out in 2008 that everybody else was falling over themselves about. Y'know, the Australians? They get their due on my forthcoming favorite song list, don't worry. The fact is - Apocalypso is a more consistent all-around album. And it also takes way bigger risks that mostly pay off, no small feat considering how ultimately they're still sort of a watered-down Nitzer Ebb. So this gets my official "guilty pleasure of 08" vote.

13. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes

I'm not remotely embarrassed by how low this falls on the list. My friend Russ calls it wallpaper music, and while I'll give them more credit than that, this sure don't feel like Album of the Year to me. But it's pleasant enough - those four-part male harmonies have been known to bring me to a tear or two - and on the best songs it even manages to be punchy. So, D+ for originality and an A- for effort rounds out to - number 13.

12. Marnie Stern - This is It... and That is That

I will once again not pretend that I can listen to Marnie every day. But damn she makes the world a more interesting place! And although it never reaches the same heights as that opening triad on her debut, as an overall album it's way more consistent. In fact, this is the only '08 album from which I didn't dismiss a single song; if it had boasted a standout like "Grapefruit" it would be higher up on the list. It probably took me just as many initial listens to even adapt my head to the strange and frightening world of Marnie, but it's a trip that yielded rewards.

11. El Guincho - Alegranza!

I think his live shows are probably even more fun than the album, or maybe it's just that I need to dance to it more so the repetition doesn't start to verge on monotony. Regardless, this is a no-shame party album, bristling with energy and feeling truly like "world" music in the sense that he's pulling from so many traditions and sounds. And he's a master of the little touches, like the "whoo!"s that pepper "Costa Paraiso" and syncopate "Fata Morgana." The other guy who asked us "Why so serious?" in 2008, but really meant it.

10. TV on the Radio - Dear Science

The 2008 recipients of Matthew's "Animal Collective Award", given in honor of finally releasing something I actually enjoyed. I mean, is it just me or did these guys loosen up like twenty-fold on this album? They're still all stern and political and shit, but at least they sound like they're having fun on "Dancing Choose" and "Red Dress." At least the music has some kick and some dynamics instead of just being a big buzzy droning wall. And yeah, "Golden Age" sure was the harbinger of the Obama era that we needed... the song and the era, that is.

9. Future of the Left - Curses

Yep, another late '07 release. But I searched high and low for this album in '07 and swear to [deity of choice] I couldn't find it in stores until February of 08. ("Some deal with the U.S. distributor," said the helpful info desk people at Amoeba when I inquired. And sure enough, a couple months later they were swimming with copies...) This is basically McLusky with keyboards, a McLusky that wants to laugh at you and your idiocy rather than kick you in the teeth for it. They can still bring the fierceness (hello "Plague of Onces"!), but the sense of humor is more palpable this time around. I don't think anybody else could pull off the Beastie Boys stoopidity of "Small Bones, Small Bodies" so successfully, and mad props for the gleeful chorus of "Wrigley Scott" : "They only ate sausage! SAUSAGE ON A STICK!" That still makes me wet my pants, and (as usual) I have no clue what the hell they really mean by it.

8. Plants and Animals - Parc Avenue

Here's what the Foxes were aspiring to, I think, but Plants and Animals are better by virtue of being so surprising. "Faerie Dance" is like four different songs mashed into an epic whole. The Queen-referencing "Bye Bye Bye" sure as hell feels worthy of a raised lighter. "Good Friend" develops a swinging groove and then keeps embellishing on it. And "Mercy" - with its cheerleader chants and Motown horn section - should have been a mess, but is instead a refreshing late-album palate cleanser. Catching them play most of the album live last week - looser, more spontaneous, more playful - only cemented home for me how they earned this spot on my list. Probably the most slept-on great rock album of '08 - you owe it to yourself to give it a go.

7. Chad VanGaalen - Soft Airplane

Who is Chad VanGaalen? Is he the strummy ho-hum folkie on the first couple songs on this album? The eerie lo-fi electronic wizard on the stunning central triad of "Phantom Anthills," "Poisonous Heads," and "TMNT Mask"? The doom-n-gloom storyteller of "Molten Light"? (The video for which still gives me the creeps - so yeah, don't leave out the "freaky visual artist" persona). Oh yeah, and he even rocks out a bit on "Bare Feet on Wet Griptape." I mean, these can't all be the same person, can they? But geez, that voice sure does provide a missing link... I don't even care what any of the stuff coming out of his mouth means, I sure do like listening to him share it with us. So here we have an album that manages to be both the most diverse release of '08, and also one of the most consistent. Bravo!

6. Autechre - Quaristice

Autechre shake up almost all of their by-now-tired tropes... the interminable song lengths, the endless droning loops... and release what I consider to be their best album. This thing is absolutely exploding with ideas, none of which (for once) get run into the ground. It's still got the jagged edges, the bits of beauty stuck in whirlpools of just-off beats, but for all its braininess it also sounds like the guys are allowing themselves to have some fun. Sure, it drags in a few places, but there are also amazing stretches of one jaw-dropping "how the hell did they come up with THAT?" moment after another. Important note: it's best experienced as a full album, so be sure and give it the 60 minutes it deserves.

5. Flying Lotus - Los Angeles

The juxtaposition is no accident, since this was the other album in '08 that felt like one long succession of electronic "fuck YEAH!s" Advantage to FlyLo, though, for making it all seem so oddly organic, and also for being a bit more consistent. (And the same kudo here for knowing exactly when to let one set of ideas go and move on to the next). Even more than Alegranza!, this album makes me feel traveller's deja vu - the sense that what I'm experiencing is somehow familiar even though it's built from nominally "exotic" sources. That frisson gives these songs an amazing resonance for me. Failing all that - the video for "Parisian Goldfish?" Just fucking WRONG!

4. Crystal Antlers - EP

Every new band last year had to be Crystal something-or-another. These guys were so clearly the star facet in the crop, yet strangely and noticeably absent from every other year-end list I saw. Seriously, did anybody else bring the NOISE this fiercely and this beautifully in 2008? Every one of these stellar six songs sounds like it's ready to implode under its own weight: shrieking vocals, walls of organ battling it out with "psychedlic" guitar chaos, rock-solid basslines - all held together by an innate melodicism that ensured these gems were stuck in your head even when they were doing their damnedest to blow it apart. "Parting Song for the Torn Sky"? No shit. Their forthcoming full-length debut (despite not-so-encouraging initial press from my pals over at CMG) is easily my most-anticipated album of '09.

3. Thank You - Terrible Two

The most immediately exciting album of 2008 for me. And much like the previous year's #3, if they'd managed to sustain the pace of the incredible half of the album through, um, the other half, this would have been #1. "Empty Legs" and "Embryo Imbroglio" sound like the evil uncles of both Battles and Animal Collective. The DNA's the same, but the differences are as striking as the similarities. The drumming on this album is insane. That it could be the work of one person, without any electronic augmentation, doesn't seem possible to me. And what Thank You bring to the table that neither of those other bands I mentioned do is unrelenting fierceness. The guitar work is so jagged I keep waiting for my ears to bleed; vocals are either warped out of all comprehension or raw tribalistic shouts; grooves are achieved only to morph into new grooves. This is not music for the faint of heart.

But yeah - there are three other songs, two of which trade in a lot of that fierceness for an eerie, icy detachment that's interesting but not engaging. "Pregnant Friends" splits the difference between those two modes, with the first half being a bizarre campfire chant which abruptly turns into utter screaming chaos. (No surprise which half is the one that works for me!) Still, the album works as a coherent whole, and the mindblowing strength of the first two songs gets it this far... I can't wait to hear what they dish out next.

2. Portishead - Third

Fatal admission time: I was never that huge of a Portishead fan. Sure I own both their first albums, neither of which I consider a classic, but I always felt like they blew nearly their entire load on jaw-dropping first single "Sour Times." Eleven years later, I feared the worst when I heard they were releasing a new one.

But then that gut punch of "Machine Gun"... holy shit. They'd traded in the loungey classicism for something cold, alienating, visceral, utterly compelling. Suddenly the music had found a perfect compliment for Beth Gibbons' otherworldly voice. Previously miscast as a torch song chanteuse, she's finally come into her own as a harbinger. Over a decade off made these folks hungry; nothing about Third feels phoned in. The mood is consistent throughout: dread, despair, loss. But unlike the previous albums which both felt a bit samey, no two songs on Third are quite alike. And each bristles with surprising juxtapositions, small details that constantly pop out and keep the listener on his or her toes. Within this context even wispy and fey "The Rip" feels untrustworthy; the album's one moment of disabling vulnerability never pretends to have any goal but - yes - ripping your heart out too. (Honestly, that song never should have worked as well as it did!) Ultimately, Third is an exhausting listen, but in the best possible way. If only all comebacks could be this triumphant.

1. The Bug - London Zoo

I'm not going to lie - much as I love London Zoo it still doesn't have that "Album of the Year" feel to it. Yet it makes it to the top of the heap because nobody else brought as many a-fucking-mazing songs to the table. "Jah War," "Skeng," "Warning" - terrifying. "Fuckaz" - riot-inducing. "Insane" - club track of the year and nobody noticed. (Instead he promoted the hell out of the to-my-ears-inferior "Poison Dart.") On the surface these songs are deceptively simple, but close listen reveals they're brimming with details and are hardly mindless loops. And he matches the beats and moods to his vocalists perfectly. If it's grim and apocalyptic, there's Flowdan intoning doom with his low bass. Spaceape spitting bile in every direction? Drop something minimal underneath that won't distract too much. (Request to the Bug: More Spaceape next time!) For all that the overall palette here is narrow, it's explored throroughly and skillfully - an exercise in singularity that never becomes monotonous. In the end, nothing else in 2008 owned me quite like London Zoo: made me tremble, made my heart race, made me want to jump around.

Farewell for now!

Well folks... if anyone is even still reading this thing, here's the offical notice... I decided today to just face reality - which is that I've got too much going on in my life to keep up with this as consistently or with the level of "quality" (as if) that I'd really like. I mean, it's mid-March and I'm not even done writing about my 50 favorite songs of last year! What's the point of keeping a music blog if it isn't relatively current and timely? UGH. This is a disappointing admission for me to make... I've really enjoyed getting some of the "stuff" I feel and think about music out of my head and out into the world. I'll revisit it at a later date, that's for sure. But for now... thanks so much if you've ever read this.
Cheers, Matthew

My 50 Favorite Songs of 2007

OK, so it was supposed to be my 40 favorite songs... but 40 just felt too limiting, given how much great music was released last year. And I wanted to give myself enough space to acknowledge some artists who didn't make my 20 favorite albums list, but still had one or two songs that ruled my year (notably El-P and Deerhunter, who land two each in this list). On the flip side, it was interesting to me how I could really love an album but still be hardpressed to choose more than one song off it for this list (Yeasayer, Field Music, Marnie Stern, Frog Eyes, Aesop Rock, HEALTH, Kristin Hersh). There's a statement in there about how consistent those albums are. And then there's a third bunch where the song that makes this list was pretty much their sole contribution to my year (Kammerflimmer Kollektiev, Supersilent, Prinzhorn Dance School, Shapes and Sizes, Beirut, PJ Harvey, Besnard Lakes, and, um... Burial).

I kind of feel like this list reveals how limited my listening habits really are. I bought around 45 CDs in '07, and I'm afraid I don't venture far outside my CD collection when listening to music. I'm going to try and take better advantage of Pitchfork and Cokemachineglow's podcasts this year, and maybe by the end of '08 my songs list won't be confined to the albums I actually purchased. All of this is a long-winded (and probably unnecessary) apology for how many "repeats" there are on the list. I set myself a firm rule that no artist could have more than 3 songs on it (sorry Shining), and in the end 50 spots are shared by 37 artists. In the top half there are only 3 repeats (go figure, representing my #s 2,3, and 4 albums). So maybe I didn't do SO badly on the breadth issue...

Here's the list itself; the commentaries on each song are a work in progress so be sure to check back every now and then.

50. Prinzhorn Dance School - Crackerjack Doctor

What if the grass really is greener on the other side? What if 2 + 2 really does equal 5 (and Thom Yorke's neurosis isn't as hefty as the reputation he's built upon it)? What if Cheney isn't really an evil bastard and Bush isn't a tool in every sense of the word? Where are the limits of your (or at least, my) incredulity? Prinzhorn Dance School have computed the answer to that last one out to the fourth significant digit. Then they add one, and right there is where they drop this "5 o'clock shocker" (am, not pm, by the way). So ridiculous... so calculated in its meaninglessness... so impossible to dislodge from my aching brain...

49. Interpol - The Heinrich Maneuver

In retrospect, I was probably a bit harsh on Interpol when I reviewed Our Love to Admire. So let me make it up to them here: much as I predicted even then, I never turn off this song when it comes up on random shuffle. It's a tricky little beast - indie-by-numbers on the surface, but brimming with lots of satisfying guitar twists as soon as you look beyond its wholesome tunefulness. I'm particularly fond of those short shocked-sounding bursts on the chorus, and the interplay between the drums and both guitars on the bridges. This is what Interpol do best, and here's to many more.

48. Dälek - Paragraphs Relentless

Sinister. That's the word that comes immediately to mind when this sizzling wall of organ and processed guitar hits you in the gut. The mundane beat serves mostly to create motion, a frame on which the rest of the instrumentation strains and writhes against its boundaries; like a Bruegel painting, endless tension and details are contained within a relatively limited palette. Above it all floats that eerie harmonica-like melody: is it a warning of what's to come, or a dirge for what has passed? Either way, I'm rooted to the spot by this song, even as it evokes a deep-seated urge to flee.

47. The National - Brainy

On an album full of songs driven by the drumming, none gets pushed harder by the beat than "Brainy". Everything else - the simple two-note guitar motif that starts the song and continues throughout, the long aching brass and string notes, the resigned vocals, even the lyrics with their talk of "dragging around by the end of your coat" - futilely resists being pulled along. "Think I better follow you around," Matt Beringer admits, but then follows that with the single most memorable line on Boxer: "You might need me more than you think you will." He could be addressing anything or anyone - that insistent beat, the hopes inside his own chest, the lover he won't let run away. The narrative doesn't matter nearly as much as the raw emotion behind his dedication; one of the most moving and (dare I say?) universal moments I heard all year.

46. Parts & Labor - Ghosts Will Burn

On most of Mapmaker, Parts & Labor repeatedly force chaos and structure, noise and harmony, to coexist. But on "Ghosts Will Burn," the chaos is the structure. The beat upon which the song is built is inexplicable but rock-solid, Christopher Weingarten's shining moment among a number of incredible performances. Around it the guitars whine, moan, and burble. The bassline plays tag with both, creating a thick stew of silences interspersed with colliding notes and rhythms. And soaring over top all of it is one of the album's most majestic vocal melodies, like a surfer confident in his own abilities to ride no matter what boils up from below. Get your head around this burst of randomness, and jump on the surfboard with him.

45. Deerhunter - Octet

The Germans down at #15 might actually be named "Shimmering Collective", but this here's the true spirit of that phrase. For almost eight glorious minutes, Deerhunter are the new Happy Mondays: a rock band who aren't afraid to make music you can dance to. The bassline is simple yet powerfully buoyant, and around it the guitars and the vocals swirl in one heaving grinning mass. Taken as is, the song patiently unfolds and builds to its euphoric high, where it lingers for a number of cycles before slowly winding back down. Clip it a bit on either side, and I bet you could slip the middle five minutes of it into any DJ set around 1 am, when the drugs are starting to kick in and the audience is ready to be pushed.

44. !!! - Heart of Hearts

And hey - while we're on the topic of rock bands you can dance to!!! Except this is almost the mirror image of "Octet" - rather than a rock band accidentally making a dance song, a dance band who still can't help but rock out a little. The "dance" components of this equation - chattering high-hats, stuttering rubber-band bass, cheesy/ridiculous accelerating drum breaks - for all that they're pushed to the front of the song, can't obscure the staccato guitar (Gang of Four, anyone?) or the near-insolent nonchalence of the vocals. It captures perfectly the joint statement-of-purpose implied by the band name: we will excite you; we will sneer at the ease with which we succeed. The beauty of "Heart of Hearts" is how they can't help but invite all the rest of us to sneer along.

43. A Place to Bury Strangers - Don't Think Lover

Everything you need to know about A Place to Bury Strangers can be summed up in the first five seconds of this song: buzzsaw guitar riff decapitates, arch 80s drum machine jerks in time to your thrashing body. I'm reminded of that old childhood threat (which by the way, I always found extremely strange): "I'm gonna tear your head off and shit down your throat." Only in this case, after the first deed is done, it's like the band pause in the second. The music gets all soft and monotonal and gooey and wistful, like "hey! no matter how much you hurt me and pissed me off, I loved you! I loved you!" Sobbing and recrimination follow: "Don't.... don't think love... love, will last forever." And now the sinking realization that of course love won't last forever because you just pissed me off to the point that I tore your head off! It's all your fault! Cue buzzsaw guitar riff. Repeat cycle of retribution and recrimination until there's no more (fake) blood to spurt. It's all so cute it makes me want to start a rock band, but only if you can teach me how to make a guitar sound like that too!

42. Burial - Archangel

The indie snob in me is tempted to resist the hype (best-rated album of the year, INDEED!), assert my iconoclasm, and make this the most backhanded endorsement on this list. Aw, fuck it... I admit to being moved by "Archangel" despite how hard and obviously Burial is trying to make me feel moved by it. I further admit to being a big softie at heart, plus (hell, while I'm admitting shit) I'm in a still-new relationship and damned if this doesn't evoke those late-night moments when my insecurities kick in and I find myself thinking "If I trust you... " , "Tell me I belong..." etc etc ad nauseum. All of the expected signifiers are here: big sweeping strings, time-stretched rave-ish vocals, and a combination of truly hollow beats and cavernous metallic bass that perfectly simulates that inner void I'd deny in saner moments I ever feel. Fuckin' manipulative bastard... sombody pass the kleenex...

41. Shapes and Sizes - Head Movin'

It's the only song on which they manage to strike the perfect balance between their innate tunefulness and their disdain for stasis, but "Head Movin'" is no less an accomplishment for its solitude on Shapes and Sizes' otherwise painfully herky-jerky debut album. Brevity suits them - this is one of their shortest songs and it benefits from a notable lack of diversions. For two verses the guitars jangle and the bass pulses; then the strings all but disappear for a clattering percussion-driven coda. Throughout the vocals are boyish, alternately tentative and overconfident, and ultimately winning. Sort of a blip on my musical radar screen in 2007, but it'll probably find its way on many compilations to come.

40. Dan Deacon - Snake Mistakes

If Hrvatski and Max Tundra spawned a mutant child, this is what it would sound like. (Perhaps these were the "coolest dads in dad school" that Dan Deacon had in mind? Except of course he goes on to tell us how "coolest dad" breaks none of the "dad rules", and much like his forbears Deacon breaks all the rules. Except his own.) "Snake Mistakes" features the freaked-out technical precision of the former combined with the utter sense of whimsy of the latter; the result is a Ren & Stimpy cartoon become sound. Irresistible, if you can get past the "cute" factor.

39. Kristin Hersh - Day Glo

It used to be that Kristin's solo music had a much different persona than her band work (first with Throwing Muses, most recently with 50 Foot Wave). Although in both cases the operative word was "intense" - the solo stuff tended to be more sad and contemplative, the band stuff louder and occasionally angry. But on '07's solid Learn to Sing Like a Star, the distinction is all but gone - and nowhere more than on this standout. It's all about the way she keeps building to the phrase "Getting up is what huuuuurrrrrrrts", and how every time she repeats it that last word becomes more emotion-filled, more gravelly. Within the context of what is otherwise a straightforward jangly guitar tune - more shocking. She doesn't just want to tell you about the hurt, she wants you to feel it with her. When I heard her perform the song live, it was downright frightening.

38. Aesop Rock - Bring Back Pluto

This is my friend Aesop. He's pretty cool, although he's not always symbolically comprehensible. So here's the highlights of the story: The clue is in the vacancy, the proof is in his goosbumps. It may actually be safer to play with knives. What's the proper rules for stuffing hostages in trucks? Nine minus one left eight. They're going to want his milk money next. Every dumpster diver's gonna vomit up a comment. This is little Russian dolls that get smaller and smaller still. Eight planets bullied number nine until he fell. When the freakishly disfigured have been triggered to surround you, you will live inside the actual second they let the hounds loose.

Huh, you didn't follow the story? Good, cause neither do I, and likely neither does Aes. Fortunately understanding what the hell he's carrying on about is completely tangential to enjoying the man's music. It's all about the flow of these words, the ways the individual sounds which comprise them create and demolish internal structures, all the time existing in sync and in tension with the gorgeous flow of the loungy music underneath. It's about marvelling at his words/minute ratio (ridiculously high) in joint with how clearly enunciated it all is. Ultimately, listening to it is just fun, meanings be damned.

37. Yeasayer - Germs

I realized in retrospect that despite warily endorsing All Hour Cymbals in my 20-best list, I didn't do a good job of explaining what Yeasayer actually sound like. I'm going to paraphrase my friend Kameron, who - for all that he expressed this with visible distaste - sunk the proverbial nail into the plywood. Yeasayer sound like a bunch of young wanna-be hippies, at least one of whom has been to India or the Middle East and hence injects the music with such-styled "exotic" motifs. Yep, there's a "psychedelic" peace-n-love sort of aesthetic here, which all the religious themes and overlarge generalities in the lyrics only enhance. The two big admonitions on "Germs" are: "Everybody's coming down with the same thing," and "Better get some medicine if you know what's good for you." I should have shared Kameron's distaste, but these guys have a knack for beautiful multipart vocal harmonies that makes the music seem denser than it actually is, and makes those faux-Middle Easternisms feel strangely organic. One of those examples where the music, despite my critical stance, still wins. Which just means that we all win too.

36. Thurston Moore - Silver > Blue

I.e., Daydream Nation unplugged and played on one guitar instead of two. Sure the overall tone is autumnal and contemplative, not explosive and exploratory, but damned if the guitar solo during the long instrumental coda doesn't remind me of "'Cross the Breeze" (among other SY golden oldies). Beautiful without being "easy" listening (there's still plenty of discordance to be found), restrained without being resigned, and engaging because (rather than in spite) of its predigree - I'll take this over any of Sonic Youth's recent output any day.

35. Shining - Stalemate Longan Runner

This song makes me want to start listening to Rush. I know next to nothing about Rush, mind you, and couldn't even name "that one song" they're so well known for, though if you played it for me I'd know it was them. Likewise, I could be completely wrong when I assert that the middle third of this song, built upon some of the most fantastic (and surprisingly straightforward - for Shining) riffage I've ever heard, is a total Rush rip-off. But then, I somehow doubt Rush ever started their songs with a minute of dischordant free-jazz guitar skronk. And I'd be willing to bet money that Rush never collapsed one of their big satisfying power riffs into an electronic harpsichord and keyboard duet. Hence the need to research.... awww, fuck it. Now way did Rush ever write anything this fucking odd and cool!

34. Field Music - In Context

I find writing about Field Music to be pretty challenging. Try explaining sugar to someone without using the word "sweet", or a cloudless sky without calling it "blue." Now confront the opposite linguistic problem: listen to this song - so seemingly effortless, so tuneful, immediately winning. Describe it to someone without invoking that three-letter "p" word which gets thrown around as though it had a universal meaning. My point is, telling you this is "pop" music at its most quintessential has little chance of communicating what I really mean, because "pop" is a pretty subjective experience. So I'm almost forced to reducing the accomplishment here down to its mechanics: that insanely catchy drum beat; the way the dynamic verses (all restless guitar work and beautifully-counterpointed bass) flow seamlessly into the sugar-rush monolithic melody of the chorus. But see, I have to sit and think about that, and this is not a song that requires much thought to love. Better just to say: try this out. You'll like it.

33. Pantha du Prince - Saturn Strobe

This one snuck past my defenses, but I’m glad it did. I mean, I’ve been on an indie rock kick for the last three-to-five years. House and techno music for the most part makes me itch anymore. But this! This makes me wish that I was on the roll of a lifetime (in the, um, “ecstatic” sense), navigating the distinction between finite and in-finite, living inside the music and the music living inside of me. Pantha du Prince evokes and defines that glorious Void with all these grand gestures and piles of strings, then he fills that Void with enough minute details (bells! rainfall!) to make its boundaries seem somehow… within reach. As we used to say about trance when in the right (read: altered) state of mind, this is traveling music; the best way to visit whole other worlds without leaving the space behind your closed eyes, to go everywhere and anywhere while holding still. “This Bliss” as the album title might be overreaching (I still can’t make it through the thing in one sitting), but for these seven-and-a-half minutes bliss is precisely where I'm living.

32. Beirut - In the Mausoleum

I hate to say it, but this is the success to Yeasayer's valiant attempt. Advantage to Beirut for having not only the technical chops (there are more instruments on this song than probably any other on this list) but, more importantly - that voice. The first word I think of to describe it is "buttery," melting out of your speakers and lingering on your ears for a second or two after it's passed. Throw in all the attention being paid to details (especially the layered percussion), the smooth transitions between the sections, and the way the song feels like the musical summary of your amazing three-continent trip last summer, and it all adds up to the most calorie-laden (yet guilt-free!) treat one could ask for.

31. Dizzee Rascal - Sirens

OK, so it's not "grime." It's not even particularly grimy - Dizzee sounds all grownup and big-budget now. That's still our boy Dylan though, spitting a million words a minute and making running away from the police sound like just another part of his daily routine. "Let's take it back to that old skool storytelling shit," he proclaims (oddly enough, after the first verse) but for me the appeal isn't so much the tale as the glee with which he shares it. And it's not as if everything here on the music front is straightforward - listen to the way the music all but disappears on the choruses, leaving just Dizzee's voice and that ubiquitous siren wailing in the background. Or the way all those city sounds (sirens, radios, traffic) lend it an air of gritty realism. I can accept that he's probably never gonna give us another totally alien creation like "I Luv U" as long as his feet hitting terra firma continues to sound like this.

30. Deerhoof - The Perfect Me

Recipe for the Perfect Deerhoof Song

Simple/immediately-catchy instrumental riffs (2 minimum)
Satomi's chirpy speak-sing. (intelligible syllables optional)
Chaotic drumming
At least one instrumental element used in no previous Deerhoof song (which, in this case is that hyperkinetic cowbell)

Organize riffs in baffling sequence that nevertheless feels totally organic. Liberally sprinkle speak-sing and drumming throughout mixture. Follow one of three options for last ingredient: a) sprinkle throughout; b) introduce halfway through song; or c) introduce near end of song. Options b) and c) can be executed with immediate withdrawal or persistence of said element for rest of song.

NOTE: the beauty of this formula is that - eight albums in - it still shows little signs of being formulaic!

29. Battles - DDiamondd

Within its larger context on Mirrored, "DDiamondd" feels almost like a palette-cleanser between twin-behemoths "Atlas" and "Tonto" (see numbers 16 and, errrr, 1!, below). It's Battles' most formalist moment: counterpoint rising and falling melodies, kinetic percussion on the interludes, and Tyondai Braxton's vocals are almost intelligible. They don't seem to play it live, and at a mere two-and-a-half minutes it seems downright tossed-off.

So rewind to the moment in my car when I first heard this song, after rushing across town to pick up the album at Amoeba the day it came out. "Race: In", fine. "Atlas" - stunning, but I already knew that. And then, that moment halfway through "DDiamondd" when the wall of crickets suddenly drops on my unexpecting ass and it was all I could do not to cause an accident because, y'know, it's kind of hard to focus on anything else when your jaw won't get off the damn floor. In brief: the coolest single individual sound I heard all fucking year. And almost a year later, it STILL has that power over me, like "No they didn't! Yes they DID!"

28. El-P - Drive

El-P is really pissed off. See, there's this war being fought nominally for one reason but it's really just to protect your and my (and his) ability to (as the sample on the chorus chirps) "drive drive Drive DRIVE!" And it's to his credit that he's just as pissed at himself for being complicit in the mess; for every reference to "Jesus of NASCAReth" or "military Humvees with no bullet-proof siding", there's a self-aimed zinger like "My triple-A card has one too many initials." But El also knows that protest songs that take themselves too seriously are a total drag. So the entire thing is infused wtih his unflagging sense of (gallows) humor and a continuous stream of background noise and spoken asides (my favorite is that insincere "Sorry guys!" after the "Humvee" line) that act like the ear candy you'll have for dessert after he's (or is it, "the world's"?) done feeding you a steaming hot plate of shit.

27. Of Montreal - Suffer for Fashion

Oh, I could carry on about how this is the best song David Bowie has released in decades... how it was the one that led me to my favorite album of the year... how Kevin Barnes uses words like "emasculate," "vicissitudes," and "emaciate" but still crafts the song's biggest hook from the simple phrase "...not like THA - A - A - A - AT!"... how those cheesy 80s drum machines sound totally fresh and hot... that amazing couplet "We've got to keep our little clique clicking at 130 bpm / It's not too slow!"...

Or, I can just admit that it boils down to two words. After announcing "I know we suffer for fashion", he pauses ever-so-briefly and concludes "or whatever." Barnes knows full well that "we" are full of shit, and this song is both a celebration and a mockery of the whole notion of belonging to a "scene." He plays it both ways throughout Hissing Fauna: (feel/laugh at) my pain, and this is the song that sets that stage perfectly. If there was a Miss Straight America contest, he'd be the ten-time champion and counting.

26. Menomena - My My

I'm still waiting (and I know they have it within them) for Menomena to craft an album that's consistently engaging and not just consistently interesting. But damned if this song wasn't the first in 2006 that actually brought me to tears. The overall tone is set by the shimmering beauty of the organ, Brent Knopf's wistful vocals and stark acknowledgement of his own insecurities, and especially the way the sax and guitar stabs intrude into the space being created like little reminders or self-recriminations that this kind of navel-gazing can lead nowhere good. It all pushes toward a haunting/soaring mid-song climax that in less deft hands would have come across as calculated. Instead: eye leakage from yours truly. If Kevin Barnes was 2006's great ironist, these guys were the year's great.... um, sincerists?

25. PJ Harvey - Silence

Fifteen years ago, PJ Harvey was telling Casanova to bend over, rubbing him til it bled, and cutting his legs off when he tried to run away. Apparently this strategy hasn't yielded long-term success, because here she's more vulnerable than we've ever heard her before. She all-but-whispers, "That by some miracle, you'd be aware...", too heartweary to really hope for anything more than the song's title. Which she repeats over and over at the end like it's all she has left - the only lover who hasn't left her (or been scared away). And the funny thing is, it's just as powerful and moving as any of her previous incarnations. For all that she's gotten softer, it isn't gently that she's going into that good night.

24. A Sunny Day in Glasgow - 5:15 Train

Popular music can't help but recycle old trends or sounds, and in 2007 it seemed like everybody (including these folks, only they did it better than most) had their My Bloody Valentine moment. But only A Sunny Day in Glasgow recognized that big Cocteau Twins-sized hole in our collective audio environment and decided not just to fill it, but to make us forget it ever existed. "5:15 Train" is the flat-out prettiest song I heard all year. The guitars chime and whirr, their vibrations lending the entire affair a hazy washed out bliss - and that's BEFORE the crystalline vocal drops on you as heavy and gorgeous and unattainable as world peace. Best of all, ASDIG make the edges of this song rough: that opening cascade of feedback that sounds like a torrential downpour on a tin roof, the percussion that hits like a stable full of cracking whips. The entire effect is like being thrown overboard by an enormous storm: terror, tranquility, and that sweet sirens' song urging you to surrender.

23. Les Savy Fav - The Equestrian

Les Savy Fav waste no time letting us know how excited they are to be back, six years after their last full-length. First single "The Equestrian" is a flat-out, balls-to-the-floor rocker, the kind for which there will always be a need. Musically it's refreshingly straightforward, with none of the self-conscious experimentation that in the past has been both their greatest strength and worst fault. I'd normally be averse to a balding pudgy guy dropping a straight-up sex jam on me, but as usual Tim Harrington strikes the perfect balance of engagement and distance, humor and earnestness. I.e., "You made me gasp when you grasped my withers" could be sexy, or self-disparaging (Harrington, bless his soul, has never pretended to be anything but a balding pudgy guy, even when he's running around in his underwear), or simply a great rhyme for "You made me shake, you made me shiver." Guys, it was worth the wait.

22. A Place to Bury Strangers - My Weakness

Much as I love them, I have to admit these guys have a great idea:song ratio approaching 1. So, here's the greatest of those ideas, an indescribable ripping guitar sound that drives the choruses and interludes, and leaves it's mark on you even when they're trying to shove it back in its cage on the verses. It also benefits from brevity, being the shortest song on the album. And of course, since it's the most brutal thing they (or almost anyone) have to offer us, they go and call it "My Weakness." Well, I feel my weakness in the knees as soon as this thing comes blasting out of my speakers. (Go ahead, turn the volume down. It'll still piledrive over you and come back for seconds). I think I'm afraid to hear a song they'd see fit to call "My Strength"...

21. HEALTH - Crimewave

In 2006, (the) drum(s) came for a visit. In 2007, they brought their friend Gloriously Atonal Guitar, and they: SMASHED THE KIDS' NEW PLAYSTATION! URINATED IN THE CAT'S WATER DISH! SET THE CURTAINS ON FIRE! DRAGGED YOUR CLEAN SHEETS THROUGH THE MUD! ATE EVERYTHING IN THE REFRIGERATOR! DIDN'T CLEAN UP AFTERWARD! And then they left, just as inscrutable as they'd arrived. Geez, it's a CRIMEWAVE!!! What'd you expect, subtlety?

20. Besnard Lakes - And You Lied to Me

In a year that saw no new music from My Morning Jacket, somebody had to give all us indie kids an epic, reverbed-to-all-hell, southern-inflected, classic-rock-referenced gem. OK, so by "southern" in this case I actually mean "southern Canada"... and of course I'll happily endorse this song in the same breath that I'd dismiss any of that old stuff in whose steps it no doubt follows. All my hand-waving aside, the key word here is "epic." For all that its structure is essentially a cycle through the same basic set of melodies (complete with dramatic long pauses between), the band add in enough small touches each time through that it feels like one long, slow build. The room gets hazier, the emotional tension thicker, the pace keeps picking up... and when release (i.e., the inevitable blistering guitar solo!) drops at about the 5:30 mark, you'll really feel it too. If they could have pulled this off more than once on the otherwise-tepid Are the Dark Horse, I'd be a huge fan, but its singularity makes "And You Lied to Me" all the more impressive.

P.S. Fuck the Arcade Fire.

19. Deerhunter - Spring Hall Convert

If I'm going to continue yammering on about how I love Interpol for their emotional heft and despite their obvious technical limitations, then I should probably extend the same courtesy to some other bands as well. Enter Deerhunter, with the song that I've actually known for the longest of any on this list - Pitchfork released it as part of their (not-so-)Infinite Mixtape series in late 2006. Still, the album didn't drop until early 2007, so we'll "officially" include it on this list. My relationship to the song has fluctuated... the insistent bassline and swirling ambience of it grabbed me immediately. Then I listened to it enough to realize that the rhythm guitar part is the same. 4-note. progression. over. and. over. for minutes. It fell out of favor with me for a while. Then at some point last summer it came up on random shuffle and I found myself cranking the volume and falling for its spell all over again. I love how the vocals just keep getting more and more multi-tracked until half the noise coming out of your speakers is layers of Brandon Cox's voice. And that bassline, with its 1-2 punch on the endless spiral of the second half, still has the power to make my heart beat in time.

18. Interpol - Pace is the Trick

And hey! speaking of Interpol... This one is easy for me to love since its the nearest they got to the outright emotionalism of their best previous work. Paul Banks' voice still has the power to evoke both hope and resignation at the same time. OK, it wouldn't be a great Interpol song if there wasn't at least one utterly bemusing lyric, and Paul hits us with this one right up front: "But it's like sleaze in the park / And women, you have no self-control / The angels remark outside / You are known for insatiable needs." I still can't figure out if it's the women that Paul is accusing of "no self-control", or a friend whose "insatiable needs" relate to women... and wait, isn't most "sleaze in the park" between men? Oh right... it's Interpol... don't listen to the words but the way they sound coming out of his mouth. Like the chorus of this one, whose rising notes: "And NOW I select you, SLOW now I let you see HOW I STUN, see HOW I STUN" was one of the year's irresistible singalongs for me. Even more impressive, the guitar work is the most creative and dynamic they've ever delivered - the monotone quarter notes are kept to a minimum (just a few stretches at the end) and the opening phrase is downright haunting. Finally, Carlos sounds like he's at least awake for this song, which is more than I can say for the rest of the album. Let's not give up on them just yet... clearly they can still deliver the goods.

17. Parts & Labor - Brighter Days

If "Ghosts Will Burn" reminded me of a sufer, then "Brighter Days" is the tsunami: it's that exhilirating, that overwhelming. Especially, that terrifying. If the first twenty seconds of this song doesn't scare the shit out of you, I want to know what natural disaster you've survived. The bass and guitar grunt and squeal at each other like the earth cracking open, while the drummer does his best to emulate what a major city must sound like when it's crumbling around your ears. The dust settles, and then these guys have the nerve (or maybe they're just hopeless optimists) to hit us with one of their custom-made "soaring" guitar solos. Dude, forget the shattered landscape, the minutiae of your ruined life laying scattered around - "brighter days", man! The verses of this sound like mid-90s arena-alterna-rock filtered through the urgency of mid-80s blue collar punks like the Minutemen. Which is to say, pretty damn fist-pumpingly cool. When the aftershock hits (another quick cycle throught that heartstopping intro), it's somehow less frightening. Like maybe you really can live through this much chaos and twisted structure and still sing a pretty song. Obama should really be on the phone with these guys!

16. Battles - Tonto

Even when they try to, Battles are incapable of creating a straightforward rock song. Not that they didn't make a valiant effort; "Tonto" has by far the highest guitar:electronics ratio of any of the songs on Mirrored, and the central section (from roughly 2:30 to 3:45) with its Big Dumb Riffs is perhaps the one moment on the album where they forget their ironic distance and need to fuck with everything within reach, and just rock the hell out! It's frankly stunning, and left me with a catch in my throat repeatedly throughout 2007. Of course the stuff that surrounds it is pretty amazing as well - the tongue-in-cheek bouncing balls of the guitar interplay in the front stretch and immediately after the big emotional payoff, and the slow wind-down of the final three minutes. Here's to glorious failure!

15. Kammerflimmer Kollektiev - Jinx

The grizzled old cowboy leaned back in his creaking wooden chair, casually lifted first one foot than the other onto the weathered railing of his front porch, and settled into the position in which he greeted the morning every day since retiring from the ranch. Today was going to be a hot one, he could tell by the dust devils already starting to dance in the barren fields across the tar road that split the wide-open landscape in half as far as one could see to the east and west.

He saw the dust being kicked up by the wagon train long before he started to hear the creak of wooden wheels, the soft exhalations of the livestock, and the occasional clank of a cowbell swinging on its bearer's neck. As the cluster of worn vehicles drew closer, another sound took increasing prominence within the mix: a series of low moans and wordless syllables. It sounded like a woman's voice, and even before she came into sight the cowboy felt a chill run up his back listening to her. As his luck would have it, she was in the last vehicle in the chain - a wooden cage on wheels much like those he'd seen being used to transport circus animals. Strangest of all, nobody else in the wagon train paid her the slightest bit of attention as she continued producing a string of pained noises. As she passed by his house, they made eye contact; she responded to the gaze of a stranger by leaping up and attempting to shake the bars of her cell. Her moans turned to outright gibbering that would haunt the cowboy's memories during silent moments for the rest of his life. The wagon train plodded on... the products of the woman's tortured throat grew quieter both with resignation to her situation and growing distance... and eventually the cowboy had nothing but his memories to verify that any of it had happened at all.

He'd often wonder: what was wrong with the caged, moaning woman? Why had the wagon train members locked her up? Where were they taking her and for what purpose? How could a bunch of arty Germans so perfectly evoke an old-time American West they'd probably never even experienced in film let alone in real life? And what statement were they making (if any) by dropping into that perfect evocation such an incongruent factor as the moaning woman? He'd jump when thoughts like those would cross his mind; they felt like somebody else's words being fed into his head, like he was nothing but a character in someobdy else's story. When the cowboy felt like that, he'd drink. A lot. Alcohol could kill those strange questions, but he never managed to drown the memories of that disturbed (and disturbing) woman's moaning.

14. Supersilent - 8.5

If anyone's paying attention out there, you might have noticed I haven't added any new updates to this list in a couple weeks now. Well, partly that's because I've been super busy, and partly it's because I knew the next time I sat down to write on here, I was going to have to write about 8.5. And frankly, writing about this song intimidates the hell out of me.

Me and Michael in the car. 8.5 comes up on random shuffle. I explain to him how it's the next one to write about on my blog, and I'm sure I'm going to end up writing a small book. But on the flip side, I'm at a complete loss what to say. Michael has heard this song before. He wrinkles his face and says, "Well, what's there to say?" I laugh the hardest I have in a while.

For all that I tend to gravitate toward "underground" music, that isn't to say that all things weird or arty or difficult are going to appeal to me. I can be abstractly impressed by something and still not feel it's worthy of recommending to folks. Plenty of stuff heartily espoused by Pitchfork or Cokemachineglow fails to register for me. Good old 8.5 wouldn't be sitting this high up on this list if it didn't genuinely move me... if it didn't make me feel... something...

I was tempted to approach 8.5 the same way I did Jinx. They're the two most abstract, arty songs on this list, and they both lend themselves to a cinematic interpretation. The problem is, the images evoked by Jinx are much safer to assume you'll see/hear also. 8.5 is an entirely different beast. I mean, there's a story being told by the song, no doubt of it. But - sort of like hating the movie they made out of one of your favorite books because now when you read the book you see the movie - the story I hear in this song, the images it evokes for me, might not be those it would for you. So let's keep it general... there's loss and there's an overwhelming sense of being lost. There are revelations. Not starburst revelations, but quiet, creeping ones, whose power you don't realize until they swallow you. There's at least one long moment of sheer terror, near the end of the first movement of the song when the distorted metallic voice changes its tone and becomes almost frenzied. And there are moments of stunning beauty: a muted trumpet solo, swooshing synth washes, pastoral flutes. The drumming on this song is amazingly counterintuitive, but then considering what the rest of the band is doing for most of it, a steady beat wouldn't make sense anyway. But for all their chaos, the beats provide some of the only solidity to be found; they define edges within the space created by the song.

I think you should hear this. I can't promise what you'll think of it, or even that you'll want to make it through the entire 12 minutes (though if you make it past the first three - which, for the record, I think are fucking brilliant - you'll have weathered the most "challenging" part of the song). I'd like to think you'll at least find it interesting, even if you never want to hear it again. But it might just invite you back... and if it does, I'd love to be told what you hear in it, what it makes you see or feel.

13. Shining - The Red Room

Fatal admission time: I know next to nothing about jazz. I mean, I know which are the "big names" and I'll happily go listen to live jazz if somebody else suggests it. I can recognize jazz-like cadences or instrumentation when I hear them. But that's about all I can offer on the genre. Which is a shameful admission from a self-professed music lover and would-be online critic.

I laughed out loud when the guy behind the information desk at Amoeba Records told me I'd find Grindstone in the jazz section. I laughed even harder when I heard the album. "Jazz", loosely defined, might have been the dominant motif on Shining's last album In the Kingdom of Kitsch You Will be a Monster. I suppose the genre classification makes sense as much as any other would, when it comes to these guys, and at least a couple of them are classically trained jazz musicians. But most of Grindstone only references "jazz" (as I understand it), and certainly not enough to justify sticking it in that section on the band's reputation alone.

Except for "The Red Room," the one track on Grindstone that might not have sent the unknowing jazz afficionado screaming from the room at this bizarre new album they'd picked up on a whim. Then again, maybe it might have. For all that it starts with a warbling saxophone line, that lasts exactly ten seconds before Shining bring the chaos. The bass is practically rhythmless. The horn section spends some time practicing chords then locks into a tight-as-hell (surprise surprise) jaunty melody accompanied by stomping bass drum and, um, handclaps. Another call-and-response transition, and in the third movement the ground completely drops out. Now the horns are blaring, the bass is chugging along like a motor, there's a rising sense of tension that all comes to a head in
my favorite musical five seconds of 2007. Yes, I realize that sounds ridiculous. But this is Shining, and they can do more in five seconds than most bands manage over entire albums. (I was quite gratified by Mark Abraham's review of the album for cokemachineglow; he also thinks these five seconds are noteworthy).

12. Marnie Stern - Grapefruit

"Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the 'Grapefruit', our most popular attraction here at Marnie Stern World. Because the 'Grapefruit' is immensely disorienting for first-time riders, we've put together this little safety video to help you anticipate what you've been waiting so patiently in line to experience."

"When you reach the platform, please pull your lapbelt as tightly around yourself as possible, then pull the locking body cage down into a snug and latched position. Your safety on the 'Grapefruit' is our number one concern, and many of the twists and turns it takes require you to be secure within your seat or risk being pitched into free-fall at outrageous speeds."

"Your car will be riding along the Guitar track of the 'Grapefruit.' At the beginning of the ride, the Guitar track rubberbands back and forth so quickly that many first-time riders lose their lunch. We promise that the exhiliration you'll feel at the sensations far outweigh the unpleasant consequences of this occurrence. After tossing you around relentlessly, the Guitar track begins an extended series of punctuated rises and falls that continue through the rest of the ride. Some riders report feeling dizzy at the bottoms of these falls; this side-effect is rather simply mitigated if you just stop holding your breath."

"You'll notice as you progress along the 'Grapefruit' that the attraction features another riderless track we like to call the Drum track. The Drum track is frankly going to scare the shit out of you, and you're not even riding on it. Even we're not entirely sure by what tricks of engineering the Drum track is so chaotic, seeming to collide into the Guitar track repeatedly yet managing to coexist within a single structure. Entire university physics departments have been forced into retirement trying to figure this out, so you don't stand a chance. In fact, a large part of the pleasure of the 'Grapefruit' experience - and we've got the testimonials from fanatical repeat riders to prove it - derives from this inscrutable interaction. Or, as we like to say, it's best just to sit back and enjoy the ride."

"The third component of the 'Grapefruit' is the vocal accompaniment. Our audience research suggests that this aspect of the ride is completely negligible to about half our riders. The other half report that trying to figure out the words of the vocal accompaniment provides them the correct amount of detachment to properly enjoy the whole Guitar-Drum track thing without getting so sucked into it that they freak out. We here at Marnie Stern World pride ourselves in packing our attractions with maximum punch, and are pleased that something as singular as the 'Grapefruit' still lends itself to a multitude of experiences."

"By now you've reached the front of the line and you're ready to strap into the 'Grapefruit.' We share your excitement, and even a bit of your needless dread if you're a first-time rider. And we can all but guarantee that you'll be back for the experience many more times, whether this is your first or your hundredth."

11. Animal Collective - Fireworks
10. Of Montreal - She's a Rejecter
9. El-P - Run the Numbers
8. The National - Mistaken for Strangers
7. !!! - Sweet Life
6. M.I.A. - Bird Flu
5. A Sunny Day in Glasgow - Our Change into Rain is No Change at All
4. Frog Eyes - Reform the Countryside
3. Dälek - Starved for Truth
2. Shining - ASA NISI MASA
1. Battles - Atlas

In addition to fleshing those out considerably, I'll also be posting at some point soon my 10 favorite live shows of '07. And then, finally, onward to '08 - which will start with my review of Radiohead's In Rainbows. (Yes, I know I could have downloaded it a couple months ago. But I'm a CD collector, and it came out on CD in the US on January 1st. Thereby making it an '08 release as far as I'm concerned).

My 20 Favorite Albums of 2007

I had a really delightful problem coming up with this list: unlike '06, where I struggled to find 10 albums I could heartily endorse, I felt guilty limiting myself to 20 this year! I bought 47 new releases in 2007, the most ever, and with that came a lot of (self-imposed) pressure to try and "keep up". I failed pretty miserably at that, as my reviews record will attest. Still, I think by the advent of '08 I'd done the year justice in my purchases, enough that I think this list represents a pretty good version of what it would have looked like if I had unlimited funds and time. As always, many thanks to Pitchfork and Cokemachineglow for turning me on to so much great stuff this year.

I spent considerable time agonizing over the top three spots on this list. What finally decided me is that this is a list about albums, and ideally an album is an entity unto itself, not just a collection of songs. Consistency becomes a prime consideration - and as much as they're mind-blowing accomplishments, Mirrored and Grindstone both contain some filler. Whereas that title sitting down at #1 has only one song that I can take or leave, and everything else is a keeper. The same thought process had me shuffling the order a bit in the bottom half of the list, and ultimately knocked El-P off of it (he gets his due in my favorite 40 songs, however).

Apologies to those who might have looked at the list when I first posted it (not to mention Menomena, who just got booted)... since then I've listened to Aesop Rock's awesome None Shall Pass enough to recognize it belongs on this list. I guess that's one of the advantages of writing a blog over publishing a mag (whether paper or virtual) - you always have the luxury of changing your mind! Still, I'm ready to stop thinking about this, so without further ado....

Honorable Mention: Long Blondes - Someone to Drive You Home

Not H.M. because it was #21 on the list (that was El-P), but because technically this came out at the end of 2006. Still, I didn't buy it until summer of '07, and even though Pitchfork included it in their year-end list for '06, they didn't get around to actually reviewing it until January. The Long Blondes are essentially the female version of Franz Ferdinand - same snappy wit, same post-punk guitar sound, same love for disco rhythms just below the surface. Kate Jackson's every-woman lyrics occasionally border on trite, but more often get a knowing smile and a hearty sing-along from me. "You're only 19 for God's sake / You don't need a boyfriend", she sings in the beginning of "Once and Never Again", but by the end of the song she's acknowledging her jealousy of the younger woman's range of choices with only a trace of bitterness. One of my favorite guilty pleasures last year.

20. Dizzee Rascal - Maths + English

I think Dizzee is incapable of making a bad album, and even if this one feels like a further retreat from the sonic adventurousness of Boy in Da Corner, it's still a solid and consistent listen. He's enunciating more, but his flow is still intense and nuanced. What surprises me the most about the album is that - at the ripe "old" age of 22 (or so) - Dizzee can convincingly pass himself off as some sort of role model. He's still dodging the police (the epic "Sirens") and ogling the girls ("Da Feelin", "Flex"), albeit with none of the hostility that he used to have for women. But "Hardback (Industry)" finds him warning wannabe 'heads about remembering to pay their taxes (!), and "Excuse Me Please" is a credible lament about the uses of violence - both sanctioned and non-. I don't know how much longer I'm going to find him interesting, but Maths + English would be a worthy departure point.

19. M.I.A. - Kala

There are some serious missteps on this, and her (pretense at) politics grates, but I still have to give M.I.A. props for her iconoclasm. And when her music hits - "Bird Flu," "Boyz," "World Town," "XR2" - all of those other concerns disappear. She could have played it safe, instead she found a way to push nearly every boundary (self- or other-imposed), and it's not like there were that many. Björk should really pay attention.

18. Aesop Rock - None Shall Pass

This just in! He's making the list after the year ended, but the album came out a L-O-N-G time ago, so it's not Aes' fault I'm an idiot. It's just that None Shall Pass is such a dense, detailed, demanding listen, it took a lot of listens to get my head around. The music is defiantly old-skool: classic funk, r n' b, and lounge jams with few of the embellishments that other Def Jux acts tend to build their sound on. The real draw here is AR's flow. For all that he's no rapid-fire spitter, does anybody cram this many words into three or four minutes? I think it'll take another twenty listens before the words sink in enough for me to figure out themes (though everything I've read about him suggests the man's literate, not comprehensible). The title track got a lot of love online, but for me the standouts are "Bring Back Pluto", where Aes uses the members of the solar system as avatars for the characters in a story (I think?) over a groovy langurous lounge track; "Fumes," which seems to be a morality tale about taking drugs but gets over with me for the fun it has with tempo and sequencing; and the near-disco outrage of "Five Fingers." The more Def Jux hip hop I hear, the more I'm sold.

17. HEALTH - HEALTH

Acknowledging that pesky elephant in the room (y'know, how this was the Liars album that Liars have apparently lost interest in giving us) in no way minimizes HEALTH's accomplishment on their breakneck, intense debut. At some point - around the time "Girl Attorney" is stripping the enamel off your teeth, or perhaps the way hypnosis gives way to the utter freakouts of the chorus of "Tabloid Sores" - the comparison becomes completely invalid. HEALTH can be reckless, but they're never unconsidered, and if the last third of the album sprawls a bit it's only because they're determined to use every tool available to them. In the Year of Weird, very little felt as gleefully experimental as this album.

16. Yeasayer - All Hour Cymbals

All apologies to the Besnard Lakes, but this one is the real "dark horse" entry on this list. Rather than grouse about the sparse instrumentation and their bag of vocal tricks, let me just acknowledge that Yeasayer songs have crawled into my head and refused to come out. It's an easy album to like, and also manages to create an identifiable "Yeasayer sound", always the mark of a good debut album. I might shy away from the gospel stylings on "No Need to Worry" and "Red Cave", but the hazy beauty of "Germs" and "Worms", the epic pomp of "Wait for the Summertime," and especially the powerful understatement of the opening triad sum to a great album whose charms outweigh its limitations.

15. Field Music - Tones of Town

Another one that's impossible not to like. The most immediate touch point is classic XTC, but Field Music are a little more slippery than that. I could just leave it at the indelible pop melodies, but that wouldn't do justice to the attention these guys pay to detail, or their skill at making seemingly-incongrous elements fit into the larger mix. "Sit Tight" is a bubbly little bass and piano-driven number for it's first couple of minutes, but then it smoothly mutates into a funky "beatbox" exercise with synocpated groans and throat pops, presented with absolutely no fanfare or conscious sense of how weird a choice this was. "In Context" is initially driven by a super-catchy drum program, but as the song progresses Field Music keep adding new elements and expanding the ones already present. It's probably the most accessible album on this list, but Tones of Town is also a treat for the more-than-casual listener.

14. Kristin Hersh - Learn to Sing Like a Star

A worthy addition to Kristin's already-considerable body of work. The fleshed-out arrangements (especially the string work by the McCarricks) give her always-compelling voice some room to stretch out and regain a lot of the trademark intensity that was missing on The Grotto. I've always thought my love for her work was a very personal thing, but a number of friends commented on these songs when they'd happen to pop up on random playlists. How many other artists who got their start in the mid-80s are still kicking them out strong? Here's hoping for 20 more!

13. Marnie Stern - In Advance of the Broken Arm

It's probably the album on this list I listened to the least, and it might even be fair to say I respect In Advance... more than I like it. It's the single most demanding thing I heard in 2007; impossible to have in the background or ignore. But when I'm in the mood, Marnie slays like nothing else. What most impresses me about the album, and what finally sold me on it entirely, is that Marnie never just relies on her obvious technical facility to sell these tunes. There's a very unique songwriting aesthetic at work here, and an irreverent sense of humor - you can practically hear her laughing her head off at all the bizarre conflations and collisions she hurls at you.

12. Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam

Granted, for an album to make this list is already implicitly an endorsement. But for this album to make this list - hell, for the phrase "Animal Collective" to even exist on this blog - is a minor miracle. But let me not belabor the past; Strawberry Jam is an all-around triumph - a shimmering, hazy colossus brimming with mirth and relentless creativity. Avey Tare's vocals are the immediate hook, but repeat listens reveal tons of capitvating details in the mix. "#1" and "Cuckoo Cuckoo" suggest a Mercury Rev (!) connection I wouldn't have believed anyone could pull off. And if "Fireworks" or "Winter Wonder Land" don't put a big ole smile on your face, check your pulse. Forget Burial - this one was my big emotional release in 2007.

11. The National - Boxer

If you'd told me on initial listen that by the end of the year Boxer would be sitting just shy of my top ten, I wouldn't have believed you. Six months and countless listens later, I'll just eat some crow and happily hit the "repeat" button. They've replaced Interpol as the band I listen to when in a certain mood. I've already commented on the amazing drum work; the other star is Matt Beringer's soulful, understated vocal performance. It's probably the least flashy album on this list, but no less satisfying for that.

10. Les Savy Fav - Let's Stay Friends

Even excepting my joy and surprise that this album exists at all, I'm going to venture that Let's Stay Friends is Les Savy Fav's best, most consistent release. OK, I find the last third of it sort of uninspired, but even their singles collection Inches had some duds on it. "The Equestrian," "Raging in the Plague Age," and "Slugs in the Shrubs" are LSF in classic attack mode, while "Patty Lee" and especially "Brace Yourself" both skillfully expand their sound without revealing any limitations. Especially in a year when so many other indie rock sure-bets disappointed, Let's Stay Friends helped me maintain my faith in the basic post-punk template.

9. Parts & Labor - Mapmaker

And then there were Parts & Labor, who use that same template as a jumping-off point for some serious noise geekiness. What's endlessly impressive to me about Mapmaker is how the band manage to combine fairly straightforward song structures and downright anthemic vocals with a dogged love for chaos and sonic experimentation. And the whole thing comes off as organic rather than tossed-together. Only A Place to Bury Strangers gave effects pedals a harder workout: from the bleepy opener "Fractured Skies" to the tidal wave crash of "Brighter Days", from the soaring bagpipe-toned solo that propels "New Crimes" to the distortion-wracked solo that makes "Ghosts Will Burn" such a standout. That band name is false modesty, because there's nothing workmanlike about these guys.

8. A Place to Bury Strangers - A Place to Bury Strangers

I'm a bit surprised at how high on the list this found itself. Consider it a concession to the sheer power and conviction of the thing. All the (valid) comparisons to previous artists don't minimize how heavily this hits. But APTBS also have a surprisingly soft-n-gooey center: just check those restrained verses on "Missing You" or (especially) "Don't Think Lover", or the way "Ocean" patiently builds to its earthswallowing climax. And they never let the mayhem get in the way of a good melody. Besides, one of the obvious influences no longer exists, two of the others haven't put out a listenable album in over a decade (I'm talking about YOU, Robert and Trent), and I'm hedging my bets on the much-ballyhooed return of the third later this year; so A Place to Bury Strangers capably - and even brutally - fills multiple gaps in our musical universe.

7. Frog Eyes - Tears of the Valedictorian

I'll keep this as simple as possible. Haven't paid much attention to the lyrics, nor do I really want to, for all that a lot of the favorable criticism of this album has focused on them somehow being a statement of the times. The music is competent, occasionally interesting, but not the biggest reason I can't stop listening to this album or grin like a loon whenever one of the better songs - "Reform the Countryside," "'Stockades'", "Evil Energy, the Ill Twin Of..." - comes up on random shuffle. Basically, I just love listening to Carey Mercer sound like he's on the verge of losing his shit for almost an hour. This was the vocal performance of the year for me, and if I ever get around to doing some vocalizing myself, I'll thank Carey for giving me the permission to be as "dramatic" as I want. Given endless time, I'd write an entire column on the many moments on this album when Mercer gives me a shiver or a chuckle or a brief stab of terror. Instead, I'll just really strongly recommend you give him a go, yourself.

6. !!! - Myth Takes

Effortlessly and endlessly groovy, yet never sounding tossed off, Myth Takes was sort of my party album of the year. I already did it justice in my original review so won't repeat myself here. Nothing guilty about this fountain of pleasure!

5. Dälek - Abandoned Language

Another one about which I'll say little more. Listen to this on headphones and marvel at how dense the production is, how what on first listen seems monotone is endlessly rich and nuanced. Anyone who was into trip hop in the 90s owes it to themselves to buy this album yesterday and sink into its haunted - and haunting - soundscapes.

4. A Sunny Day in Glasgow - Scribble Mural Comic Journal

I'm about to make a near-heretical suggestion: Loveless is sixteen years old, and we need a new touchstone for "this kind of music", however labelled. I'd like to not-so-humbly submit that Scribble Mural Comic Journal is, if not a "better" album, a far more interesting one. Every song represents a different approach (if not two or three) to bringing as much twisted beauty into the world as possible. Neither the voices nor the guitars are safe from distortion, and the songwriting can only be described as "bizarre." And yet, nearly everything works. Kudos to the band as well for front-loading the album with all the weird experimental stuff (I dare you to get through "Lists, Plans" and "C'mon" without an arched eyebrow) and only "rewarding" us with the straightforward "Things Only I Can See" and "The Best Summer Ever" (easily the best Pale Saints songs I've heard since the band tragically broke up over ten years ago) at the very end. This was one of the most uncompromising releases in the Year of Weird, and easily the most gorgeous.

3. Shining - Grindstone

While compiling these lists I've realized that one aspect of music I always like is the ability to reconcile seeming contradictions, to blend disparate elements into some new organic whole. Shining excel at this in a way that only incredibly skilled and talented and creative musicians could. And let's stress the emphasis on that last adjective, because these guys are in no reducible to technical skills alone. There's a pervasive and perverse sense of humor at work throughout Grindstone. Like the way, after spending just a minute hammering home one of the most satisfying monster guitar riffs I've ever heard, "Stalemate Longan Runner" loses momentum and starts back up as a harpsichord solo. Or how "The Red Room" climaxes its first movement - a minute-and-a-half-long free-jazz smackdown so rhythmically intense that I'm gasping - with an amazingly tight and perfectly sequenced five-second call-and-response between the saxophone and what sounds like one of those baby dolls that squawks when you squeeze it. (Words honestly fail to capture this moment; you owe it to yourself to hear this song. Actually, you owe it to yourself to hear this entire beautiful album). And don't even get me started on that cheeky vocodor'ed voice in the second half of "ASI NISI MASA." In less capable hands this could have all been painfully meta- (think late-career Pavement). But back to that "organic whole" I mentioned... "Winterreise" manages to cram into its gorgeous three and a half minutes: heavy metal riffage, the orchestral movement from the theme to Dune, more hilarious vocodor, an electronic piano solo, and some rocking brass - and it never feels anything but natural. Yes, there are transitions here - which prompted some critics to label Shining "prog" the same way the Fiery Furnaces get labeled "prog." Except of course Shining are playing fifteen more instruments and finding ways to evoke common themes throughout a song regardless of the means they're using at any specific point.

"So why's it at #3?" you ask. Let's call it "Giddy Motors syndrome": 5 amazing songs (the four mentioned above + the amazing opener) do not a #1 album make. There's a bit of filler on Grindstone, and there are a couple other songs that border on garish to my ears. All that out of the way: it's a shame more people didn't hear this. In the kingdom of mind-blowing, there was no bigger monster for me in '07 than these guys.

2. Battles - Mirrored

And then there's Mirrored, which has been endlessly poured over, and discussed, and picked apart. Plus Battles toured their asses off all year long. And yes, despite some real filler, it's sitting one spot higher on my list of favorites than Grindstone, which I'm crazy about. Let's call it the difference between breaking down genre boundaries, and making something so original that the entire concept of genre becomes irrelevant. I read a lot of what people had to say about Mirrored, and overall they either had to resort to abstractions and metaphors, or they had to reduce the album down to a description of the means by which it was created. No big surprise that the latter approach tended to be that chosen by people who just didn't like Mirrored. I hate to fall into the tired old trope that "only those who don't understand it couldn't like it", but... that bit of truth in every stereotype and all....

So here's the dilemma facing anyone who loves music, and loves telling others about the music they love... how do I describe Battles to you? What do they sound like? If I told you that "Atlas" sounds like a bunch of Munchkins taking acid and having one crazy-ass dance party, does that sound like something that any sane person would choose as [spoiler alert!] their favorite song of 2007? Or how about I take a stab at "DDiamondd", which sounds like an intergalactic rock band practicing their chords for a minute, before their practice space is invaded by every fucking cricket in the entire universe. And the crickets are chirping. Not feeling inclined to give that a listen? Back in June I wrote that "TIJ" "leavens its brutality with playful keyboard/guitar interplay". See - even I can't quite escape talking about means rather than ends. What did I mean by "leavens its brutality"??? Well, throughout the song there's this loop that sounds like the CD is totally stuck. Maybe that would be annoying after seven minutes, except that everything else the band throws on top of it sounds like they're individually and collectively having the time of their lives.

"Individually and collectively". That's a good way to talk about Battles. In the end, what you have are four incredibly talented and skillful musicians who must also be incredibly bored with making straightforward rock songs. Equipped with a room-full of objects that make noise, three of them burrow inward and start to explore. Ocasionally they pay attention to the others' explorations, even syncing into each other for brief whiles. And it's all held together by the astounding John Stanier, who is just as much a machine as every other object making noise in the room. It's endlessly creative, often humorous, sometimes shocking. And man... for all my abstract appreciation of it - both means and ends - every single time these guys hit a groove on Mirrored (which they do on approximately 8 out of 11 tries) that groove rides itself into the pleasure centers of my brain.

Munchkins on acid. Crickets. A skipping CD. The future, man.... the future...

1. Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?

News flash: I'm a big fucking music geek. I agonized over this choice. In case the paragraphs above didn't convey this: Grindstone was the most exciting album of the year to me, Mirrored the most impressive. And yet... in the end, Hissing Fauna possesses two qualities that neither of those albums does. First of all, there isn't a single dud song on the entire album. Oh, closer "We Were Born the Mutant Again with Leafling" is a bit wispy. I've been known to lose patience with the twelve-minute sprawl of motorik "The Past is a Grotesque Animal" (but only before I heard them play it live and the big fat lightbulb went off for me). But everything else on this album is golden. Perhaps more important: Hissing Fauna... is amazingly simple and immediate. No hand-wringing over how to describe it to people or who to share it with and who not - if you can't fall in love with this, then you have no sense of humor and are immune to melody. For a start: I could hum most of these songs on the second listen, even before the lyrics started sinking in and I realized that Kevin Barnes is (and I mean this in the most respectful way) the queerest straight guy on the planet. It's actually not the least of the feats he pulls off here, that fairly mundane stories like "Gronlandic Edit" or "A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger" still come off deep and meditative. And the man has a wicked sense of camp, razor-tuned to the exact amount of whining and carrying-on that he can get away with and still be funny rather than pathetic (see: "She's a Rejecter", the funniest shit I heard all year). The music pulls off an even more difficult balance; it's easy to write off Of Montreal as 80s synth pop ripoffs. Hell, I'll even admit that in a year that saw so much fantastic analog drumming, here's my #1 album, it relies almost entirely on electronic beats, and they're CHEESY electronic beats. And a number of the songs are carried by fairly simplistic keyboard melodies and/or guitar riffs: "Cato as a Pun," "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse," "Suffer for Fashion" just to name a few. But - like the vocals - they're viral melodies and riffs. Once you're stuck with them, resign yourself to a life of warning potential partners about how you're going to be breaking into song and/or humming at wildly inappropriate moments. Warn those partners that this album, these songs, are HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS.

And really - all that catchiness could easily blind one to how creative and risk-taking the music actually is if you scratch a bit. "Cato as a Pun" and "Heimdalsgate" both feature this really bizarre drum sound, like somebody's hitting a bag full of nuts with a hammer. The verses of "Bunny Ain't No Kind of Rider" are all buzzy ambience. And '06 darlings The Knife have nothing on Messrs. Barnes et al when it comes to creepily multitracked vocals. The first time I talked with my friend David about Hissing Fauna, he was trying to tell me which song was his favorite, the one he hadn't been able to stop humming for the past week. "It's the one with all the really weird voices," he exclaimed. Which narrowed it down to like nine of the songs...

So there you go... 20 awesome albums in an amazing (and weird) year in music. Next up: my 40 favorite songs!