Beating the gold standards
I was recently browsing through Daniel S. Burt's The Novel 100, a book featuring Burt's own rankings of the 100 greatest novels of all time— if you want to see the list (and religious affiliation by author), click here. I picked up the book at a Barnes & Noble a while back for $5 or so.
Now, Burt is a literature professor who's read far more than I have. And though I'm disappointed that Slaughterhouse-Five didn't even make his honorable mention list of 100, Burt clearly knows his stuff. But after reading through the list, by year of publication, only 12 novels published in the 50 years prior to release of The Novel 100 (in 2004) made the cut. The most recent novel on the list was Toni Morrison's Beloved, published in 1987. Not one novel published in the next 17 years made the list.
Meanwhile, in the 50 years prior to Lolita, starting back in 1904 ... well, Burt's list contains 37 novels published during that time. It's reasonable to take this list as a microcosm of Burt's opinion of the overall quality of novels during these time frames. So, the questions are ... was writing really that much better then? How much worse is it now? Has a generation raised on many other forms of entertainment lost something in the way of the written word?
I think there's much more to it than that. The old classics remaining at the top, on lofty perches, never to be knocked off ... this is more than a trend in rankings of any type of creative art form. It is nearly law.
I think about this often. Burt is a well-informed man, but he's just one man. In the world of film, let's take a look at the most recent Sight & Sound Critics' Top Ten Poll. Roger Ebert once wrote that the Sight & Sound poll — conducted every 10 years, and polling more than 100 of the world's most respected film critics — is "by far the most respected of the countless polls of great movies." The most recent poll, conducted in 2002, looks like this:
1. Citizen Kane (1941)
2. Vertigo (1958)
3. The Rules of the Game (1939)
4. The Godfather (1972) and The Godfather Part II (1974)
5. Tokyo Story (1953)
6. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
7. Battleship Potemkin (1926) and Sunrise (1927)
9. 8 1/2 (1963)
10. Singin' in the Rain (1952)
I have no qualms with the quality of the list. A few of these films would make my own top 10 list, as well. But nothing released after 1974 made the cut — nothing in the following 28 years. And considering how new film is compared to literature, well, this list makes Burt's list look like it's skewing young. There's also a Sight & Sound Directors' Top Ten Poll from 2002. Its most recent film is 1980's Raging Bull.
If literature is an old man, and film is a teenager, then rock 'n' roll is a baby. Surely, in the era of pop music — the sound of youth — there will be a willingness to embrace the more recent. Right? Well, no.
Rolling Stone's 2003 list, The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, features 74 albums from 1990-2003, 88 albums from the 1980s, 183 albums from the 1970s and 126 albums from the 1960s. The top 10 features only albums from the 60s and 70s. (The highest-ranking album released after 1979 is Nirvana's Nevermind, clocking in at 17.)
How is this possible? Why are we not learning about these creative pursuits, and using our knowledge to advance them in some way? Maybe we are, but we just don't notice it yet. Or maybe we're too in awe of the great works of the past — too afraid that a vote for something newer is a put-down of a recognized classic.
Will anything ever be better than The Beatles? Or Citizen Kane? Or Don Quixote?
Does new art stand a chance of being properly recognized during its time? It's tough, and getting tougher. Maybe time needs to pass before true greatness can be recognized. After all, Citizen Kane didn't make the S&S poll until its second incarnation, in 1962. Though Kane was released in '41, it didn't crack the 1952 top 10 list. (Though 1945's Brief Encounter did.)
Perhaps there's a great fear of hyperbole out there, which is certainly understandable. Hyperbole makes it hard to take one seriously, but even the perception of hyperbole is enough to be dismissive.
Maybe the older generation has just seen, read and heard too much. If there's nothing new under the sun, the older folks — the people with the ethos, and usually, the votes — can tell what's truly worthwhile much quicker than we whippersnappers. And they don't need to waste time on watered-down versions of the past. I buy that, to some extent. (Though some rose-colored glasses can get awfully fogged up over time. The vision ain't what it used to be, Mildred.)
Maybe — and this may be the most likely explanation — most of these voters just like to play it safe. You know who doesn't play it safe? The English music press. Witness this list from NME. And what happens? They're criticized for being hyperbolic. Sometimes, it is hyperbole. Other times, it's bravery. Or visionary.
Who cares? It's all objective, anyway, right? Sure. But if you get into music, or books, or film, or sports, or anything else — if you really get into it enough to care — you're going to want to find the best. And that's when you'll find these lists.
So who can claim that any recent creative work stands among the all-time greats without being laughed out of the room? Does it take the next generation to make this push? Probably. I do fear that the splintered music scene of the past decade — which I often see as a positive development — will make it harder for the new fans to learn about our generation's great works somewhere down the line, but that shouldn't be as much of a problem in film. Or books, as long as we keep reading them.
It'll be up to us. But we're just going to have to wait our turn.
My Top 100 Albums of the Decade: Deleted Scenes
Whew. What a trek.
I realized, deep into the list, that I completely forgot about The Woods by Sleater-Kinney. That album would probably clock in somewhere in the 60s or 70s. Sorry for the oversight. I apologize. Here's "Entertain" by Sleater-Kinney.
Released too late for my list were Vapours by Islands and Humbug by Arctic Monkeys. The former would certainly make the list somewhere — the latter would also have an outside shot. Here's "No You Don't" by Islands.
And "Cornerstone" by Arctic Monkeys.
Finally, I'll also mention that my favorite EPs of the decade all came from TV on the Radio (Young Liars and New Health Rock) and Belle and Sebastian (I'm Waking Up to Us and Jonathan David). If you don't own the Belle and Sebastian EP-compilation, Push Barman to Open Old Wounds, you're losing.
Favorite live album? Okonokos by My Morning Jacket.
My Top 100 Albums of the Decade (10-1)
10. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)
"I am an American aquarium drinker, I assassin down the avenue; I'm hiding out in the big city blinking, what was I thinking when I let go of you?"
Nobody cares about the story if the music isn't good. An album can't survive on story. I didn't listen to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot so many times for years after its release because Wilco left its record label and Jay Bennett left the group.
I recall this album getting a lot of OK Computer comparisons — it was called the American OK Computer — but the two don't sound anything alike. Both were great albums from very good, somewhat popular bands that pushed the envelope on these respective albums and became undeniably great bands. That was the reason for the comparison, as far as I can tell. People waited five years, and they finally got another album that made them feel the same way.
YHF's greatness lies in its many, many layers. It becomes clear after a few listens that you're going to need to spend some time with this album. It demands it. Not that you won't like it immediately — you just might. But you'll like it more and more in time. Everything from the obtuse lyrics to the production lends a heft to the proceedings that says "This is an important album." How the group manages to keep the ponderous from dragging is the one of the greatest accomplishments of all.
Wilco - "Jesus, Etc."
9. The White Stripes - Elephant (2003)
"Read it in the newspaper, ask your girlfriends, see if they know ... that my strength is tenfold, girl, I'll let you see if you want to before you go"
Ryan Adams once said it "may be the best rock 'n' roll record ever made," and Elephant is great enough to prevent you from dismissing the statement completely. The title couldn't be more fitting: This is a gigantic beast of an album.
If you're digging for a weak spot, I suppose you could pick the songs that feature Meg's vocals. The closer, "It's True That We Love One Another," also features Holly Golightly, but I prefer to hear it as a pleasant, light trifle, a la "Her Majesty." Not everything has to be so heavy. As far as "In the Cold, Cold Night" goes, well, I like it without apology. I don't love it, though. That sentiment is reserved for the majority of the other songs on this album, from the thundering power of "Seven Nation Army" to the epic blues-rock of "Ball and Biscuit" to the zippy blitzes of "Hypnotize" and "Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine." Do you like rock 'n' roll music? Try this.
And White's guitar playing is just sublime here. I'm a sum-of-the-parts type — generally, I don't dig the debates about technical proficiency when it comes to separate instruments within each song. Too much of that, and you're not really concerned about the song itself. (That's also why I have little aversion to Meg's drumming.) I have a guitar-playing friend who swears that White isn't a very good guitarist, and while I respect his opinion, it certainly doesn't sound right to me. I mean, c'mon.
The White Stripes - "The Hardest Button to Button"
8. My Morning Jacket - Z (2005)
"Gideon, what have you told us at all? Make a sound, come down off the wall. Religion — should appeal to the hearts of the young ... who are you? What have you become?"
I never really listened to My Morning Jacket before Z. I wrote them off as another jam band, and while that seems like such an obvious and terrible mistake to make in hindsight, there's always time to correct initial impressions. At least in music fandom. After stellar reviews and a glowing endorsement from a co-worker at the time, I bought Z.
What I heard was far from what I imagined. This was mysterious, powerful and soulful. And most importantly, there was that voice. Oh, that voice. Jim James was the best rock vocalist of the decade and it wasn't even close. I'm not a fan of "American Dad," but as Stan said of James' voice, in a recent episode dedicated to MMJ: "Do you hear an angel? An angel possessing you, in your heart?" He could sing anything and make it sound good. And he does, taking Madonna's advice on "Anytime." (Why the Monsters of Folk album featured so little of James singing lead is a great mystery.)
My Morning Jacket - "Gideon" (live)
7. My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges (2008)
"Have you had enough excitement now? More than you ever did? You never wanted to be treated like a woman — you maintained you was just a kid. Well, at least you were of age my dear — these days kids they grow so fast ... you never wanted to be committed to the present, you're too busy believing in the past"
"Highly Suspicious" was all that some critics needed to hear to write off this album. And a song that contains the lyric "peanut butter pudding surprise" gives anyone a reason to do so.
You might want to listen to the rest of the album, though, because it's amazing. Evil Urges settles into a groove around the fifth track, the inviting "Thank You Too!" (And no, I don't get the exclamation point either.) Though the album messes with preconceptions enough on the ends — MMJ is way funkier than you might have imagined — most of the songs sparkle like forgotten AM radio gems. And then there's the transcendent "Smokin' from Shootin," which might be the group's best song.
I also have this half-baked theory that favorite albums and songs are often shaped by the little special touches. The piano flourish on "Aluminum Park" does this for me. As the fuzzy rocker nears its inevitable conclusion, there's this little part before the three-minute mark, where the piano takes center stage for just a few seconds, as if it's trying to barge in on the raucous fun. It always makes me smile.
My Morning Jacket - "Touch Me I'm Going to Scream, Pt.2"
6. The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (2002)
"Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face?"
For me, The Flaming Lips are at their best when indulging in pop grandeur. The Soft Bulletin did this, of course, and Yoshimi is at least, its equal. Like every band worth remembering, the Lips refuse to remain in one place, but this era of the band's career will always be my favorite.
Another thing about the Lips: The group has an uncanny ability to tackle the big issues with simplistic lyrics and make it all seem so profound. When Wayne Coyne's voice, often straining to its meager limits, sings words like "everyone you know someday will die" and "I don't know where the sunbeams end and the starlight begins, it's all a mystery," over the swirling, widescreen production of Dave Fridmann, the result is absolutely heartbreaking. It can't be calculated. On paper, it doesn't add up. And yet, there it is. This is why it's so hard to write about music.
The Flaming Lips - "Fight Test"
5. The Strokes - Is This It (2001)
"Can't you see I'm trying, I don't even like it, I just lied to get to your apartment, now I'm staying here just for a while, I can't think 'cause I'm just way too tired"
The influence of this album on the rest of the decade's rock music is hard to overstate, but easy to miss completely. Try to convince a casual observer that Is This It would be the decade's best equivalent to Nevermind. It's a tough sell. Maybe they've heard of the Strokes, but Is This It can't even sniff the sales of Nevermind and who's Julian Casablancas anyway? Then you talk about the groups that sound a lot like 'em, and how radio's dead, and nobody sells that many albums now anyway, and by the time you've reached your point about skinny jeans and "Strokes hair," there's no way they're still listening.
Regardless of its influence, the album still stands up. You realize this each time "The Modern Age" kicks into high gear. It's tight rock 'n' roll with bite, groove and no waste, and it sounds a lot less like Television or the Velvet Underground than everyone thought at first. As for the differing debuts on each side of the Atlantic, "New York City Cops" (and the UK album cover) might be better, but "When It Started" is pretty good too.
The Strokes - "Hard to Explain"
4. Arcade Fire - Funeral (2004)
"You climb out the chimney, and meet me in the middle — the middle of the town. And since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. Then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow"
What strikes me most about Funeral, and did from the start, is its intensity. It's a dramatic life-or-death album, which is fitting. I really dove into it for the first time at the start of a long early-morning trip. I couldn't fall asleep the night before, so I thought maybe I would nod off a bit while listening to Funeral. The music wouldn't permit it. It was too engaging. I was actually in the backseat while I first listened to "In the Backseat." Then I started again from the beginning.
In lesser hands, which is to say most hands, this sort of rock music — pumped-up, orchestral, unafraid of eclectic sounds — this is merely pretentious, bombastic or both. Those thoughts never enter your mind when listening to Funeral. Even when exploding, it sounds deeply personal.
Arcade Fire - "Wake Up"
3. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible (2007)
"My body is a cage that keeps me from dancing with the one I love, but my mind holds the key"
Arcade Fire already showed a mastery for the anthemic on Funeral. On Neon Bible, the group pushed it to the edge. The first hint was the band's desire to remake its own song, "No Cars Go," from its debut EP. "No Cars Go" is the best track on the Arcade Fire EP, but like other creative types who want a chance to improve past work, the song became bigger, brighter and definitive.
Nearly every song on Neon Bible works its way up to an overloaded, majestic climax. Win Butler's voice is desperate, dramatic and urgent, as if the whole world's going to hell and only these songs can save it. Yeah, I know the word gets thrown around a lot these days, but Neon Bible is epic. At some point, you would expect to grow tired of it, but the songs are simply too powerful, too good, too gorgeous, and Butler always has something to say — even if "(Antichrist Television Blues)" is only about Joe Simpson, it sounds like so much more. And just as with Funeral, the closer is a doozy — "My Body is a Cage" is the climax to end all climaxes. Where do we go from here?
Arcade Fire - "My Body is a Cage" (the incredible, fan-made, J. Tyler Helms Once Upon a Time in the West video)
2. Badly Drawn Boy - The Hour of Bewilderbeast (2000)
"Please don't leave me, wanting more, I hope you never die ... there's no need to say why ... just promise that you'll try ..."
I bought this album on good word alone, which goes to show there's still something to be said for recommendations.
Badly Drawn Boy is a bearded, British, bedroom genius in a knit cap, and though I don't much like the use of "bedroom genius," it seems to ring true here. (Plus, I liked the alliteration.) The Hour of Bewilderbeast is a bottomless treasure chest full of pop trinkets. Yeah, it's all over the place at times, but there's a method to the messiness.
Damon Gough may be tinkering with styles, but everything is rooted in classic pop sensibilities. Hooks come and go with no regrets — there will always be another just around the corner. "Fall in a River" finds its groove just as it ends, and the next part is uncertain, but then, it's "Camping Next to Water," which continues on the same theme, only somehow making it lovelier. "Body Rap" is an odd piece, but it's only a brief interlude before giving way to the melodic "Once Around the Block." "Magic in the Air" is as enchanting its title. "Pissing in the Wind" is way more enchanting than its title, as is "Epitaph." Sure, The Hour of Bewilderbeast isn't perfect, but that only makes it more of an adventure.
Springsteen's influence loomed large over rock during this decade. That can be traced back to the opening lines of "Everybody's Stalking," when Gough offers up the familiar invitation to "strap your hands across my engines." But this album doesn't travel down E Street much. The itinerary is original, lost somewhere between Bacharach and Beck.
In the end, listening to this album is familiar in the best possible way. It sounds like going home.
Badly Drawn Boy - "Once Around the Block"
1. The Hold Steady - Separation Sunday (2005)
"The priest just kinda laughed. The deacon caught a draft. She crashed into the Easter Mass with her hair done up in broken glass. She was limping left on broken heels when she said, 'Father, can I tell your congregation how a resurrection really feels?' "
I first heard The Hold Steady late at night. "Your Little Hoodrat Friend" was the song. I'd never heard anything quite like it before. It was a jolt of energy — the pure rush of hearing something new, exciting and relevant. It was gritty and exhilarating. Why hadn't I heard this song before? Where was this band all my life? I listened to the song again. And again. Moments like these are rare.
I've probably heard Separation Sunday more than any other album this decade. I still haven't completely memorized every lyric, and I am very, very good at memorizing lyrics. Perhaps the wordiness adds to its lasting appeal — there's still some mystery in it. The best concept albums are always the ones that play it loose.
I still hear the criticisms that Craig Finn doesn't sing as much as he talks, and maybe it's true, but it never really occurs to me when I'm listening to the songs. As he spits out his words over the righteous rock, bringing the biblical down to the gutters and elevating hoodrats to holiness, my only argument is, "So what? Do you hear this?"
Perhaps it helps if you're Catholic, as Separation Sunday is a very Catholic album. In Michael Chabon's novel The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Art Bechstein calls Born to Run "the most Roman Catholic record album ever made." Well, we've got a new winner. It's a fitting passing of the torch, too, because I don't know which album is better, and that's not blasphemy.
The Hold Steady - "Your Little Hoodrat Friend"
My Top 100 Albums of the Decade (20-11)
20. The Futureheads - The Futureheads (2004)
"Welcome to your new job, hope you have a wonderful first day — we are so happy to have you join the team, you are so lucky on your first day. And they say this is the job that people die for, I hope you're ready for the next stage ... a lot of people work in the same place, don't let them get in your way"
A frantic debut, as if the group was only guaranteed one album, and one day in which to record it. Nearly everything on here is fast and gripping. The Futureheads harmonize while roaring through tight two-to-three minute rockers — it's new post-punk, with energy and eccentricity. Not to mention that joyous rarity, a tremendous cover that eclipses the original — an irresistible version of Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love."
The Futureheads - "Hounds of Love"
19. Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? (2007)
"We want our film to be beautiful, not realistic"
In which the previous glorious pop albums of Of Montreal past fade into something darker, deeper, and eventually, just as addictive. A personal work becomes a sprawling explosion in Kevin Barnes' hands — he hasn't shown any signs of reigning in the music since Hissing Fauna (witness Skeletal Lamping), and hey, more power to him. Of Montreal has crafted enough lasting pop diamonds. If Barnes wants to continue to get darker, freakier and funkier, fine by me. Because when it comes to melody, he's still got one of the best ears on the scene. That hasn't changed. He should be free to follow his muses ... or demons.
Of Montreal - "Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse"
18. Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood (2006)
"Go on, go on, and scream and cry, you're miles from where anyone will find you ... this is nothing new, no television crew, they don't even put on the siren"
Neko Case is like the Bjork of the 00's, at least to me: A female musician with an undeniable (though not nearly as divisive) voice and a consistently great body of work throughout the decade. No, the two don't sound anything alike, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. This album creates a mood and a setting with great effectiveness. Sure, Case's voice has something to do with that, but the songwriting is an equal partner here. For all of Case's vital contributions on the New Pornographers albums, Fox Confessor is, as of now, her apex.
Neko Case - "Hold On, Hold On" (live)
17. Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy (2005)
"But if I could tear his throat ... spill his blood between my jaws ... and erase his name out for good, don't you know that I would? Don't you realize that I wouldn't pause? That I would cut him down with my claws if I could have somehow never let that happen?"
Will Sheff doesn't get enough credit. He's far and away one of the decade's top songwriters. Read his lyrics removed from the music — they're still coherent. Okkervil River will always get love and respect from writers, because Sheff is a great writer.
It's possible that this is also Okkervil's weakness — the lyrics are the stars, and the music's impact is dampened. This isn't a new quandary in pop music, but when dealing with subtle instrumentation, the problem becomes pronounced. Tracks like "For Real" and "Black" jump out of the speakers with urgency, especially when surrounded by the other songs on Black Sheep Boy, which are often slower and quieter. The answer, of course, is to let the album take hold and grow. It might take some time for the likes of "A Stone" and "Song of Our So-Called Friend" to sink in, but when they do, you know you're listening to a complete, masterful album for writers and everyone else.
(If you're going to buy Black Sheep Boy, try to get the deluxe edition that includes Black Sheep Boy Appendix, the follow-up EP that continues the story ... it's nearly as good as the original album.)
Okkervil River - "For Real"
16. Mclusky - Mclusky Do Dallas (2002)
"My love is bigger than your love, we take more drugs than a touring funk band, sing it"
So many lyrics to pick from here. I could go on quoting, but that would really ruin the surprise. Mclusky Do Dallas is very loud, quite explicit, and certifiably insane. I write that all with great fondness. This album is like going over the cliff at 100 mph and screaming and laughing all the way down. But you survive at the end! And thank heavens for that, because you're going to want to listen to this again. Tremendous fun.
Mclusky - "Day of the Deadringers"
15. The Hives - Tyrannosaurus Hives (2004)
"I went on strike when the union said I would, had a sign in my hand, 'cause the times were no good, and all this time, they ever told me too was to get a little more for your little you"
This album would be worth owning for its brilliant title and wicked cover art alone. Luckily, the music is more than worthy of the package. Tyrannosaurus Hives is a total blast and as tight as all get-out. Punk rock is alive and well as the Hives go blistering through 12 songs in less than a half hour, making statements — some empty, some not — but never stopping to sort out the remains. Even when the Swedes employ strings, you can't help but smile. A top-notch riot, Tyrannosaurus Hives doesn't have the popular single like Veni Vidi Vicious, but it's the better album by leaps and bounds.
The Hives - "Two-Timing Touch and Broken Bones"
14. Belle and Sebastian - The Life Pursuit (2006)
"Sukie was the kid, she liked to hang out in the graveyard. She did brass rubbings, she learned you never had to press hard"
Don't take my comment about If You're Feeling Sinister in the Dear Catastrophe Waitress entry the wrong way — I love If You're Feeling Sinister. Adore it. Which is why I was surprised to find that I might like this album just as much.
The Life Pursuit is a pop masterpiece. The songwriting quality is superb, and really, it all just seems too easy for Belle and Sebastian. "Another Sunny Day," followed by "White Collar Boy," followed by "The Blues Are Still Blue" ... it's unfair, and we haven't even gotten to the best songs yet.
Belle and Sebastian - "Funny Little Frog"
13. Radiohead - Kid A (2000)
"I will see you in the next life"
I still don't think Radiohead has recovered from Kid A. In Rainbows is good, Hail To The Thief is all right, Amnesiac is rubbish ... the band was never the same after this album, and it probably never will be again. But if this killed old Radiohead — the one with all the guitars — well, what a way to die. Certainly one of the most influential albums of the decade, Kid A makes the experimental sound accessible, though now, it doesn't sound so strange. The band saves the best for last, as the wondrous "Motion Picture Soundtrack" lives up to its cinematic title.
Radiohead - "Idioteque"
12. Beulah - The Coast Is Never Clear (2001)
"I don't love you to death, but I'd die if you left"
Simply one of the greatest summer albums of all time. The cover art couldn't be more apt. From the sunny explosions of singles "Gene Autry" and "Silver Lining" to the warm, lovely comedowns of "What Will You Do When Your Suntan Fades?" and "Night Is the Day Turned Inside Out," all the bases are covered. A criminally overlooked gem from a sadly overlooked band.
Beulah - "Gene Autry"
11. The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America (2006)
"She was a really cool kisser but she wasn't all that strict of a Christian. She was a damn good dancer but she wasn't all that great of a girlfriend. She likes the warm feeling, but she's tired of all the dehydration. Most nights are crystal clear, but tonight, it's like it's stuck between stations"
Of all the acts this decade to earn Springsteen comparisons, The Hold Steady earned the most mentions. Springsteen called his third album, Born to Run, his "shot at the title." Boys and Girls in America is The Hold Steady's shot. Both took the belts.
Anthemic, ambitious and successful in every way, the album comes out of the gate with "Stuck Between Stations," an instant classic. It doesn't ease off the throttle until "First Night," which seems all but necessary before the speed picks up again. The album's title is honest, as these really are tales of America's youth — stories that Craig Finn tells, as usual, with memorable precision and a voice all his own. For those who consider Finn a mere fictionist — and really, who would care if he was? — what's more honest than "You Can Make Him Like You?" He's the best lyricist of the decade, and the competition isn't all that close.
The Hold Steady has often been called "the world's greatest bar band," but as I've written before, you could remove "bar" and the statement would ring just as true.
The Hold Steady - "Chips Ahoy"
My Top 100 Albums of the Decade (30-21)
30. The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow (2003)
"Called to see if your back was still aligned, and your sheets were growing grass, all on the corners of your bed"
Chutes Too Narrow is quite the rarity — even though it's easily the best of the three Shins albums, it's become the forgotten one. Garden State came out in 2004, which means that songs from Oh, Inverted World became more popular after the release of Chutes Too Narrow. The next album, Wincing the Night Away, benefited from anticipation. Chutes Too Narrow doesn't have the highs and lows of those other albums — it's one long, impressive high. The Shins don't need lo-fi to be relevant, as this concise collection showed. After this album, it would be more about the songs than the sound.
The Shins - "Kissing the Lipless"
29. The Hold Steady - Stay Positive (2008)
"Back then, it was unified: The punks, the skins, the greaser guys. Then one summer, two kids died. And one of them was crucified. Now it's so competitive: The sleeplessness and sedatives. I know it sounds repetitive. Every show can't be a benefit."
Every Hold Steady album feels like part of one long story, even if a harpsichord enters the mix ("One for the Cutters") on Stay Positive. Just listen to the title track, which is essentially a rowdy callback to the last three albums. A song for the fans, from a fan band if there ever was one. The good thing is, it's never too late to become a fan. So sure, the middle of this album can lag a bit at times, but the ends of this album are so undeniably strong (as are the hidden tracks on the limited edition CD) that we'll forgive 'em. Why wouldn't we?
The Hold Steady - "Stay Positive"
28. Super Furry Animals - Hey Venus! (2007)
"Baby ... baby ... baby ... baby ate my eightball"
It's as if the Furries took a gigantic album and distilled it down to its absolute catchiest pieces. After the first few listens, I thought it felt slight and forgettable. I could have written it off after that, especially considering the prior disappointment of Love Kraft, and the merely good (not typically SFA great) Phantom Power. But the earworms in Hey Venus! grew and grew, until they were too big to remove.
Super Furry Animals - "Run-Away"
27. Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes (2008)
"I was following the pack all swallowed in their coats, with scarves of red tied 'round their throats, to keep their little heads from fallin' in the snow, and I turned 'round and there you go, and Michael, you would fall, and turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime"
Those lyrics represent the entirety of "White Winter Hymnal." Fleet Foxes were the hyped band of the moment when this album was released. Which is peculiar (but refreshing), because this album was built on gorgeous harmonies and lush instrumentation — it sounds like a forgotten collection of folk classics. Nothing about it really screams, or even says, hype. Though Robin Pecknold's voice can soar with the best of them, as a whole, this album is an assured, soothing whisper.
Fleet Foxes - "White Winter Hymnal"
26. eels - Blinking Lights and Other Revelations (2005)
"My kind of love is an ugly love, but it's real and it lasts a long, long time"
They rarely make 'em like this anymore. A long, ambitious double album. Loosely, a concept album about one human life — the idea is basic, but it allows for complete freedom in topics and styles. The themes here — family, God, love, birth and death — are universal. One could argue that theoretically, every album could be a concept album about life — the concept is too big. But an album that starts with the lyrics "Ten pounds and a head of hair, came into without a care," and ends with a song called "Things the Grandchildren Should Know"seems fairly clear in its intentions. Like any life — or any double album — some parts meander and some parts you might not like. But you might be surprised how much you do enjoy. For me, it's nearly everything.
eels - "Railroad Man" (live)
25. Arctic Monkeys - Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007)
"You used to get it in your fishnets, now you only get it in your night dress, discarded all the naughty nights for niceness, landed in a very common crisis"
A few of the Monkeys' biggest hits on the group's debut were fun Franz Ferdinand-esque jaunts, like "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor." But that never felt like the real Monkeys to me. The true Arctic Monkeys made their mark on the back end of that album, and continued it here. The sound is fuller and more substantial. It's heavier and darker, but still packing the pop chops to pull off a song like "Flourescent Adolescent." The kids are alright.
Arctic Monkeys - "Flourescent Adolescent"
24. The Strokes - Room on Fire (2003)
"I want to be forgotten, and I don't want to be reminded"
Do we really need another Strokes album? First Impressions of Earth was no great shakes, and plenty of time has passed since then. Julian Casablancas went and made a fine record on his own. Plenty of great bands have produced no more than one great album — getting two from the Strokes seems just fine to me. As a relevant entity, the band fits quite neatly in the early part of the decade. There's no need for greed.
And yes, this is a great album, with plenty of the band's best songs. My personal favorites being the irresistible "What Ever Happened?" and "Under Control." Who knew the band could be so ... smooth?
The Strokes - "Reptilia"
23. The White Stripes - White Blood Cells (2001)
"Fell in love with a girl, I fell in love once and almost completely"
Speaking of Is This It, this album was nearly as influential. Now, the Stripes are one of the biggest bands around, but shortly after White Blood Cells came out, I asked for the album at a college town record store and drew only a blank stare, then a question. "Who did you say they were again?"
The clerk probably hadn't heard the charming "Hotel Yorba" or the massive "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground." And he definitely hadn't heard "Fell in Love with a Girl," which is everything rock 'n' roll should be. It shoots out of the speakers, straight into your heart. If you haven't heard it in a while, have a listen. It's lost none of its power, and it probably never will.
The White Stripes - "Fell in Love with a Girl"
22. Stephen Malkmus - Stephen Malkmus (2001)
"Promise me, you will always be, too awake to be famous, too wired to be safe"
After leaving the best band of the 1990s, Malkmus really didn't have anything to prove. And so, he just had fun on his solo debut. Pavement fans already knew how great Malkmus was with a melody, but it's easier to hear on this album, as the songs come all polished and glistening, swirling around subjects like Yul Brynner and Cabin Boy.
Stephen Malkmus - "Jo Jo's Jacket"
21. Ted Leo and the Pharmacists - Hearts of Oak (2003)
"And the French Foreign Legion, you know they did their best — but I never believed in T.E. Lawrence, so how the hell could I believe in Beau Geste?"
"Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?" is an ode to ska, and in particular, The Specials, but it's also a wake-up call: Remember good music? What happened to it? Why don't people make it anymore?
So, Leo does his part to will it back into being. He's always been a dynamo, but this second Pharmacists album hits the most high marks. There's a passion here that never lets up, but the first half of Hearts of Oak is what really floors you. As great as "Rude Boys" is, after a few spins, I had trouble picking a favorite song on this disc. I still do.
Ted Leo and the Pharmacists - "Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?"