10
PJ Harvey – Let England Shake
Universal
PJ Harvey – “Written On The Forehead”
I must admit I at first dismissed this album for its paper mâché vocals, and for a long time never gave it a chance. It turns out the singer, who is almost obsessed with trying not to repeat herself musically from album to album had created the sound of voice to fit the theme of the album, that almost feels like a Wes Anderson period piece, political strife and all, with “Hanging on a Wire” as its definite moment. It’s an album that feels physically frozen in time, like one of those extended Matrix moments, without the heavy coats and skipping bullets, just the walkabout perspective. Something about it feels apt for the holiday season, like a moment of clarity between all the end of year madness. It’s an album about war from the quiet peace of mind brought about by a place like church, in which this album was recorded. It cranks, it boils, it swings and it saves. It’s an album of maddening grace and ferocious musical instinct. It is my biggest regret of 2011. – Kenny
9
Bon Iver – Bon Iver
4AD
Justin Vernon is one of the biggest success stories in indie music since the beginning of music blogs. A story of a broken man in a cold log cabin with a guitar and a hell of a lot to think about that produced an album whose stark sincerity and cathartic beauty the blogosphere took hold of along with legendary stories of live shows that brought For Emma, Forever Ago into the realm of an instant living classic. There was a barren quality to the album and the story that people attached to the purity of sound. The follow up Bon Iver, Bon Iver is not so much a sequel as it is a reboot. The music is no longer confined by any space, with room to grow with a lush band and lyrics with a bit more of a view from the ground. An album about pulling yourself back up after it all seemed hopeless, and the bliss in being able to do it yourself. Songs are still organic and songwriting honest, with plenty of moments to catch your breath, in “Perth” and “Minnesota, WI” that overwhelm with a sense of hard-fought triumph. The fans who wanted something more identical to For Emma should realize that this was a man at a lowest point in his life, a place he is no longer exists, so neither should you. He’s making music that is true to where he’s at as a person, and trying anything otherwise would be insincere. If you’re still upset about it, well first, this album wasn’t about you and second, you could just go listen to For Emma and shut up about it – but you’d be missing out on all this great stuff out here. – Kenny
8
James Blake – James Blake
Polydor
James Blake broke in a big way at the start of the year, so much so that even Drake cites the young Brit and his self-titled album as inspiration, which he hung on the wall during the recording of Take Care. All the hype around this guy surely seems too much but when you have that moment, whether it’s during “The Wilhelm Scream” or “Lindisfarne II” when it all quiets into place and something burrows into your brain or a part of your chest; that you start to hear as you walk, as you chew, and as you lay in bed that quiets you to a point that you forget the music isn’t just coming from inside you, it makes you wonder if maybe he’s worth it. His releases since haven’t lived up to this album’s lucidity in dealing with internal textures, but he’s a testament to the fact that “dubstep” is as muddied a term as “hipster” has become. It’s an album whose humanity reveals itself to you through the cracks of its electronic spine, that elicit such loyalty to its headphone beauty and finds its way under the layers of your skin. I think it’s pretty good. – Kenny
7
Radiohead – King Of Limbs
tbd
Radiohead – “Little By Little”
It’s hard to imagine a living band that elicits as rabid a following as Radiohead. I don’t mean as large in numbers but with as much unwavering devotion. Frugal fans travel far and pay much for tickets to catch them live, and frontman Thom Yorke has earned himself the status of a walking, talking, weirdly dancing saint. After 2007′s In Rainbows and its innovative distribution model, The King of Limbs arrived with less immediate fanfare. There weren’t standout tracks that you gravitated towards immediately, and it wasn’t quite as different as you expected. But the album’s grown, with a more focused understanding of its exploration of the process of nirvana, and of fostering some sort of enlightenment. Even more so than past albums, this one feels spiritual, projecting from a transcendental place of understanding. It is meant to be consumed whole, to take you on a fearless journey that starts with the clutter of “Bloom” and ends with the well-timed insights of “Separator”. At just 37 minutes, it is the band’s shortest album and perhaps most focused and resolute. This album takes a little more patience, but the moments you stumble across make them well worth the time spent – it is about the process of getting there, not the product. – Kenny
6
Bill Callahan – Apocalypse
Drag City
Bill Callahan – “One Fine Morning”
No other record this year has left me so swollen with emotion yet consistently perplexed like Bill Callahan’s Apocalypse. Despite it’s brief length, Callahan has crafted an album that warrants repeated listens to only begin to explore it’s dense rural imagery. On the surface Apocalypse creates an atmosphere of pastures and calloused hands, of colored sunsets and black and white cattle. Callahan’s dry vocals and sparse instrumentation only add to the salt-of-the-earth portrait of a place in nature that probably only once was. But that’s just the surface. As you give this album the time it deserves, you see every element of an open field transformed. Protecting cattle becomes warding away negative thoughts that find a way into one’s mind. A weed, such as “Baby’s Breath,” becomes a love beautiful on the surface, and poisoned at its core.
Side two however, brings a dramatic shift from looking at a sweeping countryside, to navigating the intricate inner landscapes of the mind. Rather than keep the listener at a distance through thick imagery, it draws one in through honest and emotionally freighting poetry. “Riding For The Feeling” is the most powerful song of the year, a slow burner that both lyrically and sonically capture the struggle of coming to terms with being alone. Follow that with “One Fine Morning” a hauntingly beautiful ode to the acceptance of death, and you’ll find yourself speechless at the records closing. – Bear
5
Shabazz Palaces – Black Up
Sub Pop
Shabazz Palaces – “Swerve…The Reeping Of Al That Is Worthwhile (Noir Not Withstanding)”
“I run on feelings, fuck your facts,” proclaims Ishmael Butler, one of conscientious hip-hop’s most invigorated figures. With Black Up, the fast moving lyricist has now collected a trophy shelf full of acclaim. Beginning with the jazz infused sounds of Digable Planets, he has built a reputation for eternally cool lines. Still, Shabazz Palaces presents something entirely new. While his first breakthrough gig looked to the past for its basslines, horns, and low key beats, his second wind has its eyes set on nothing but the future. Partnering with multi-instrumentalist Tendai Maraire, son of Zimbabwean musician Dumisani Maraire, Butler makes the music that should have scored 2001: A Space Odyssey had only Spike Lee ran the joint. Black Up drifts on minimalist samples and beats each reverberating between isolated dimensions. Each song warps in and out of its own black hole as Shabazz moves from one direction seamlessly to the next. On the hypnotic, vocal sample led “Recollections of the Wraith,” Butler raps, “Clear some space out, so we can space out,” but he’s definitely not trying to let your mind slip away. He has too much to say. “Rap is getting soft,” and he wants it to shape up. Like a conflicted father watching change steer young artists in the wrong direction, he addresses them directly with patience or ferocious anger (just listen to “yeah you”). No matter how he gets his point across though, these kids should follow suit. Black Up can and should be the future of hip hop, combining a new kind of beat with same old, ego-boasting swagger. Let’s just hope they remember to bring their moon boots and oxygen tanks. – Stuart
4
Girls – Father, Son, Holy Ghost
True Panther
Taking a step back, what truly impresses me about Girls is the progression they have made as a band. Album was an incredibly lovable low-fi gem. Looking back on it now , it seems cute. With Broken Dreams Club EP, Girls made a strong directional statement. Despite being an EP, the band referred to it as a full-length (thus “Album 3” on the cover for F,S,HG) because of it’s important role in the groups’ artistic direction. With Father, Son, Holy Ghost, Girls enters into a whole new realm of legitimacy. No longer a band that sound best from a shoddy blog mp3 file, but a band that warrants a solid listen on wax because sonically it’s just that good. It is a testament to the vast palate that Owen’s and co. are capable of. Songs like “Honey Bunny”, “Alex”, and “Magic” are what you’d come to expect from the band- breezy California pop. And than there’s songs like “Just A Song”, and “Jamie Marie” which demonstrate the ability of an Owens’ melody to stand on it’s own. And finally there are tracks like “Die” and the bi-polar “Vomit” which actually warrant the overly-used descriptor, “epic”.
Beyond the range of song-writing, is a vast buffet of instrumentation carefully chosen to fit each song’s unique purpose. Guitar tones are so vivid they move from the realm of sound to a state where one could almost touch them. Choral vocals and swirling organs both add just the right amount of kick to bring buildups over the edge. As a fan it’s been exciting to see Girls mature. With each release the band has taken the necessary steps of growth while never forgetting their core strengths. Father Son Holy Ghost is a testament to the pure talent of this band, and an attention to detail that seems a lost art in rock ‘n’ roll today. – Bear
3
Kurt Vile – Smoke Ring For My Halo
Matador
Simply put, Kurt Vile’s music seems to be an extension of the man himself, not much different than another limb growing from his core. On Smoke Ring For My Halo, Kurt trades in lo-fi distance for intricate guitar textures and matter-of-fact lyricism making for an album that finds beauty in it’s lush background and tone of familiarity.
Kurt’s songwriting is no doubt the focus of the album. Because of it’s deeply personal nature, you often feel like a welcomed member of Kurt’s inner circle. Take album opener “Baby’s Arms. Kurt mentions at the end of the verse “Except for her, you know its happened twice”. The line is a detail that would only make sense to Kurt’s close confidant. However, his sincerity brings you instantly closer, leaving you to feel well accustomed to offer advice. Often times his writing may be mistaken for over-simplification. It’s not. His honesty is wonderfully warm and welcome, making the album feel less like a teacher and more like a close friend. – Bear
2
Nicolas Jaar – Space Is Only Noise
Circus Company
The opening track, “Etre,” or to be in French, with its splattering of earthly samples and lush piano chords, lays the stage for one of our favorite albums of the year. Ever so gently, like summer drizzle, Jaar adds a subtle beat line to “Colomb.” It is not until the fourth track, “Too Many Kids Finding Rain in the Dust,” that the album begins to steadily creep up. Having seen Jaar hug a Shure 55 microphone as he performed this song with Dave Harrington under their side project Darkside, I’ve witnessed its tempting strings tantalize a packed house.
Keeping with the overall idea that you don’t have to persistently badger a crowd with relentless kick drums, the the Chris Isaak-esque guitars of the previous track, bleed into the snare drive of “Keep Me There.” Its aptly named as the beat pattern pulls just enough to groove your head to – ever so slightly, up until the sax reels, crying out between off-signature vocal samples.
You don’t really get the sense of a properly contrived electronic album until well into the sixth track. And that is one of the beautiful things of Space is Only Noise. There’s a bit of a semblance to Boards of Canada and Massive Attack, but much of the rest is of Jaar’s own individual inspiration – the off-the-cuff French, masterfully interlaced horns and the splashes of the earth’s majesty, are just a handful of examples.
There is a notable sense of loss on this LP, a feeling of longing for a the one who got away perhaps. But even in the album’s most thoughtful moment, “I Got A,” Jaar’s addicting grooves, whether through the subtle jazz horns or fleeting piano chords, leave you with plenty to hang on to. This attachment culminates in “Space is Only Noise if You Can,” where the album’s abstraction climaxes around one the powerful basslines of the year. For his debut album, Space is Only Noise, is a full-fledged package – a necessary vinyl purchase. – Juan
1
tUnE-yArDs – W H O K I L L
4AD
During a year filled with musical heroins by the likes of St. Vincent, Feist, and PJ Harvey, Merril Garbus reigned supreme with the most uniquely empowering sound. The constant fun-house known as tUnE-yArDs fuels itself on one hell of an explosive formula. If the Power Puff Girls were birthed from an accidental combination of sugar, spice, and everything nice as well as Professor Utonium’s “chemical x,” then Garbus ignored the first few and went straight for the heavy stuff.
Beginning with the hurricane starting “My Country” all the way through the oddball chick anthem “Killa,” w h o k i l l takes no prisoners and aims to take down cabins, houses, sky scrapers, and everything in between. For proof, look no further than the looped war cries echoing through every song. Each track nears a paranoia induced seizure due to the stacked layers of Garbus’s voice, ringing at the highest notes to create alarming sirens on songs like “Gangsta.” Still, a gifted singer does not solely rely on cloning herself. Instead, as heard on “Powa,” she tests your speakers with battle screams that would make Braveheart‘s William Wallace retreat. Rackety drum lines and ferocious horn sections further w h o k i l l‘s tenacity, only taking a break for the eerie, slowed down “Wooly, Wolly, Gong.” Finally, Garbus tackles her insecurities in the most charming, awe inspiring ways. Never does she ask for your pity. Instead, songs like the humorously self-aware “Es-So” and the genuinely cute but entirely epic “Bizness” send a giant middle finger to anyone passing judgement.
w h o k i l l swings a lot of punches that need to be taken seriously, but its fascinating execution makes it all at once dynamic, provocative, and enthralling. As Garbus herself will tell you, she “was born to do it,” and for that reason, all these momentous bits and pieces add up for the most wickedly fun, pulsating album of the year. Not even music should make you feel this good. – Stuart
