Delusions and hipsterisms aside, The Suburbs is the consolidation of Arcade Fire as one of the most relevant bands in the world now. The band’s core sound remains unique and unchanged, the trademark songs still evoking a sort of mini-orchestra with art rock affectations. Upon initial listens it can feel a tad too long at 16 tracks, but in due time it makes sense that a record so thematically centered on “suburbs” and “sprawl” would wind up that way. Once again, the band put out an ALBUM, and the songs become so intrinsically dependent on each other that listening to just one or two “singles” instead of the whole thing feels awkward. That said, many of the tracks here are at least as good the group’s best material: “Ready To Start”, “We Used To Wait”, and the epic “The Sprawl II” will surely become setlist staples. Oddball tracks like “Modern Man”, “Rococo”, shoegaze “Empty Room”, and the art punk of “Month of May” are welcome change-ups that still sound unfailingly like Arcade Fire, while Neil Young-ish ruminations like “Deep Blue”, “Wasted Hours” and the title track may seem trivial at first but eventually stand out.

The rushed verdict? This is not a flawless album, but it is difficult to point out exactly what would have made it better. Maybe it could be a song or three shorter, but it’s unlikely that people will agree on which ones should be taken out to make your iTunes playlist smoother. In the end, it might be best to just enjoy the full package as the band wants you to and, if you haven’t, see them live. If Metacritic is to be believed, this will go down as one of 2010′s best albums. We’ll see how Arcade Fire’s third effort ages – The Suburbs might just be the North American OK Computer.

Vampire Weekend – Contra (01/12)

If you don’t already hate this band on principle, do give this a spin. Better yet if you liked their debut: Contra is at least as good, managing to maintain the fun vibe they became famous for and add (slightly) more variety to their music. The result, it appears, is another catchy record by these spoiled brats. No Lil Wayne appearances yet, though they do use auto-tune in one song and sample M.I.A. on another one.

Highlights: “Giving Up The Gun”, “White Sky”, “Cousins”

Spoon – Transference (01/19)

Is it their best album? Probably not. Is it awesome like their last several albums? Definitely. Transference is a beautifully sequenced record, equal parts studio and songwriting experimentation and superb pop sensibility – often within the same song. Transference is perhaps their least accessible album since A Series of Sneaks (though it sounds nothing like it), and another step forward for, err, minimalistic rock n’ roll.

Highlights: “Mystery Zone”, “I Saw The Light”, “Got Nuffin”

Beach House – Teen Dream (01/26)

Some message-boarder described this as “a supernova of an album”. Indeed, 2010 will have to be a really good music year for this to not make my end-of-the-year Top 10 list. Mellow-paced but intense, Teen Dream sticks to one mood and absolutely nails it. The arrangements are mostly quite simple, and the female vocals are deep and powerful. I really don’t know what else to say about this album other than that it deserves repeated listens.

I’ll go ahead and refuse to pick any highlights; if curious, inquire within Myspace.

Yeasayer – Odd Blood (02/09)

This is an awesome record, albeit a bit top-heavy. Some of the latter songs can be a little too much, but its best tracks more than make up for it. Yeasayer conjured a number of solid influences, from Radiohead to Oingo Boingo to Animal Collective (I know Jack would like to add Of Montreal to this list, though he’s not too happy about it) and put together one of first buzz-albums of the new decade.

Highlights: “Ambling Alp”, “Madder Red”, ONE”

Seriously though: very few new ’09 releases gave me as much satisfaction as a couple of Lady Gaga songs (I did consider giving my Lady Gaga mix the #1 spot on this list – seriously). Also, I should mention that I don’t like including live albums of compilations on “Top 10″ lists. Nirvana – Live at Reading was easily one of the best things I heard all year, and the Dark Was The Night compilation wasn’t too shabby either. Disclaimers aside, here’s the list:

10. Phoenix – Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

Sleek, infectious and car-commercial-ready, this is the definitive indie-pop album of the year (I know that’s a lame pseudo-genre, but luckily that doesn’t detract from the quality of this release). If Side B was as good as Side A, this would have been a more serious contender. [Apparently, I need to keep writing to make sure the editing of this post doesn't fail, so I will add that this album almost missed its Top Ten slot to Neko Case - Middle Cyclone]

9. The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love

Crazy up-its-own-ass concept album with guest vocalists and heavy metal undertones by a particularly wordy band. At this point I can admit The Crane Wife should have a better shelf-life, but few albums this year have provided a listening experience as fascinating as this one. [I was rather bummed that the cold Chicago rain ruined my experience of seeing this record played live in its entirety, but still think it was worth it for me to stick around until "Repaid/The Wanting Comes in Waves"]

8. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – It’s Blitz

I wasn’t sold on this album until I heard many of these songs live. Then again, another Fever to Tell would have been redundant (and another Show Your Bones, for all of the original’s goodness, would’ve been no less than cringe-worthy). The YYY’s third full-length is yet another inevitable progression for this proudly artsy band, an album split half and half between bangers and ballads.

7. The Raveonettes – In and Out of Control

Just a (60s)pop-(80s)rock album with a Scandinavian twist; sometimes that’s all you need. Sadly, the cover is rather stupid, reinforcing my jealousy toward Aaron’s list. [Since I have already written a review's worth of ruminations on this album, I'll go ahead and sneak in another memorable mention: Yo La Tengo - Popular Songs, a great album that probably would have made this list if it wasn't for its eccentric track list]

6. Wilco – Wilco (The Album)

In the year of ambitious albums (I suppose 2009 was also a big lo-fi year, which doesn’t quite float my boat), this is as down-to-earth as Wilco has been in a long time; they may just be punching-in, but few major label bands do their job as well as Jeff Tweedy & cia. [At this point I'd like to include my third and final honorable mention, Stuart Murdoch's odd God Help The Girl project. In this case, the reason forthe exclusion from the Top Ten is probably bitterness: while this LP was definitely a treat, I could really use another actual Belle & Sebastian album]

5. jj – jj #2

This album is concise, dreamy, and (despite the weed leaf on the cover and a song called “Ecstasy”) can be enjoyed in any state of mind. When it’s over, play it again. I have been listening to this for the past couple of months trying to find flaw in its design, but other than a random shouting voice that taints a couple of seconds of its penultimate track, this is a very sharp record.

4. Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavillion

Tempting as it may be to forget an album that came out in early January, MPP is a timely masterpiece within its own terms. “My Girls” and “Summertime Clothes” realy are that good. Even quirkier tunes (“Brothersport” and “Lion in a Coma”) featuring classic Animal Collective elements I’ve disliked in the past now simply shine. Part of me doesn’t want to rank it so high, but this is a crucial listen – the Kid A of 2009.

3. The xx – xx

2009′s best 3 a.m. album, whether you’re by yourself or have company, at a party or at home. With a delicate balance of originality and novelty, this is one tough band to pin down, making it harder to diss this them as “this year’s Vampire Weekend” (or Clap Your Hands And Say Yeah, or whatever other up-and-coming 2000s indie band-of-the-moment that generates intense online love and hate). Worthy of the hype, though I do hope we are through with these letter-letter band names.

2. Sunset Rubdown – Drangonslayer

The definitive art-rock album of the year. Each of the eight tracks is its own self-contained epic, humbly produced, reliant only on creative songwriting and emotional musicianship. Listening to this while reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was one of the highlights of my year. This is arguably a flawless record. Should have been an easy #1 if it wasn’t for…

1. Bat For Lashes – Two Suns

This record has triggered more emotional reactions than any other album I’ve heard through all of 2009. Although it’s not flawless, many of its songs get better, cozier, more welcoming each time around. “Daniel” is probably tied with another man-named song as my favorite tune of the year (the other one would be Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro”).

Bubbles anyone?

When it comes to this band, I used to be that one guy from the Tool song: “man, why can’t they just rock like they did on their first EP?”

No longer. This is the Raveonettes’ 4th full length; as was the case in the three albums that preceded it, the Danish duo’s sound on this record owes a great deal to early rock n’ roll and Jesus & Mary Chain (though I still swear that their first EP is actually a punk rock record), only this time they made the extra effort to infuse pop into the equation. Depending on how you feel about these influences, you may really like this album or perceive it as utterly unremarkable.

I think it fucking rocks. While the opener “Bang” is a bit shyer than the title may imply, it already shows that this is more of a feelgood album than 2007′s dark Lust Lust Lust… or at least as feelgood as a record featuring songs called “Boys Who Rape Should Be Destroyed”, “Suicide”, “D.R.U.G.S.” can be. It’s not a new gimmick: sugary music and gloomy subjects have been working great together even before The Cure did “Inbetween Days”. Yet it is precisely that trick that makes this album suitable to a wide range of the listener’s moods.

There is an abundance of great tracks here: the opener is followed by “Gone Forever”, a rocker that is arguably the best thing this band ever recorded. “Last Dance” is perhaps the album’s most shamelessly pop moment, so much it could have soundtracked an 80s teen movie (that’s a compliment). “Boys Who…”  is a much more pleasant listen than the title indicates; like most of the album, it features relatively simplistic lyrics that, while not to deep, can be quite witty at times.

Most impressively, the Raveonettes manage to keep the enjoyment level high all the way through, something they failed to accomplish throughout their first few LPs. They succeed here because of tracks like the riff-driven “Heart of Stone,” the awesomely bouncy “Breaking Into Cars”, and the one track that actually features feedback frenzy, “Break Up Girls!”.  Sure, there are a couple of quite good slower songs here and there, but this is mostly a classy, bubblegummy rock n’ roll affair.

FOR FANS OF: The Jesus & Mary Chain, The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, John Hughes’ movies, 50s/60s rock n’ roll.

I do realize there is a lack of albums released over the last two years of the decade, the reason being that I put together this list based on how good I’ve felt about these records over the course of the years. Because it is difficult for me to evaluate how much I’ll be digging, let’s say, Animal Collective’s “Merriweather Post Pavillion” over the next few years (and because I am likely to discover albums released in the past and current years and enjoy them more than anything that made my previous and current year-end lists), I had to refrain from adding recent releases.

In other words, I expect my “Best Albums of the 2000s” list to be a different kind of monster if I tackle it again late next year. Conversely, I didn’t think 2008 was a “game-changing” music year in the vein of 2001 (“new rock” wave) or 2004 (let’s call it “attack of the dancing hipsters”), for example… and 2009, well, that’s not even over yet.

These are my favorite albums of the last decade, as of the fall of 2009. You may notice an unhealthy lack of hip-hop or R&B (I’m still incapable of doing full albums, though I keep falling in love with the occasional mainstream radio single… of today or yesteryear) and an overabundance of pseudo-cool rock. Each list has its biases and mine are pretty obvious, but none of that should stop you from enjoying the following great records:

10. LCD Soundsystem – Sound of Silver (2007)

When the Rapture, the Faint, !!!, and other assorted dance rockers — some of which with the help of then-producer-only James Murphy — stormed the scene in 2003-04, many decried them as “poseurs” and their music as a “fad”. To a large extent, these critics were accurate and I certainly wasn’t one of them, which almost certainly should make me embarrassed of admitting my early pull towards dance rock (which in my book includes the Killers’ “Hot Fuss” and its 4 or 5 great songs). The reason I don’t regret is because Murphy, visibly pissed about the status quo of mediocre dance-y bands, put together the most mind-blowing, organic fusion of rock and dance music I ever had the privilege to hear and witness in concert. While the eclectic self-titled debut and early singles were great (if you haven’t heard “Losing My Edge”, do it now), Sound of Silver all but proved that the fat guy in a t-shirt doing all the singing is, well, kind of a genius… and that things like Daft Punk and dancing are also cool.

9. Bjork – Vespertine (2001)

I am not one to hide my favorable bias toward Bjork: I have been lucky enough to follow her career ever since her aptly titled Debut album dropped in the mid-nineties. Truth is, to this day I don’t “get” her albums until several years after their release, possibly because I was spoiled by the cheaply made pop music of her first solo effort. Vespertine came out at a time when the only remotely electronic music I had ears for was Nine Inch Nails’ Pretty Hate Machine, so there was no way I could dig this minimalist crap (as I will reveal a few paragraphs below, I was even more repulsed by Kid A). Yet the years passed and I realized I should probably give Bjork’s fourth (and from my perspective at the time, worst) album a good try. Go figure: over the course of the years, I’ve come to basically worship songs like “Aurora” and “Unison” as some of the best shit I’ve ever heard in my life. These are the kind of songs that may very well move you to tears, as was the case with me when I finally got to see the Bjork in concert in 2007… and I was sober. Easily my favorite 3 a.m. album of the decade.

8. Sleater-Kinney - One Beat / The Woods (2002/2005)

See, I decided to be sneaky and actually turn this list into a “Top 13,” with Sleater-Kinney as one of the culprits. Given I was such a close-minded metal head at the turn of the century, it is somewhat ironic that SK is the heaviest, closest-to-punk-or-metal band to feature on this list. But I digress. One Beat is a haunting post-9/11 reality check of an album, and The Woods is the sound of an all-female band taking over classic rock AND kicking it in the ass at the same time. Because I already wrote a review on One Beat, here are my thoughts on The Woods: this may be the loudest CD or LP you’ll ever own, at least in terms of sheer volume. The mixing in this thing is f-up to the point you wonder whether it’s intentional or accidental, which clearly doesn’t matter, because the songs sound good and, most importantly, vital. It’s no surprise they went on hiatus after touring for this record: there really was nowhere else to go from here. A final, honorable roar.

7. The Strokes – Is This It (2001)

Plenty of people still don’t get what’s so great about this record. If that’s your case, I don’t think I’ll be able to help you out: Is This It is just a straight-forward, mildly backward-looking rock n’ roll album. It doesn’t exactly sound like most indie rock (which, divergences on the ambiguous nature of the term “indie” aside, the Strokes were definitely NOT… or else I would not have learned about them through the Brazilian MTV), nor did it fit into any mainstream rock of, well, any era. Some New York Dolls-meets-Television comparisons were thrown around, but when it came down to it, the Strokes as a band had a very idiosyncratic, methodical, and most of all precise approach to rock music. Their lead singer was kind of the opposite: drunk, imprecise, slightly random. It is quite possible this album would not have made my list if it weren’t for its marketing ploy, but as it is, nothing sounds as much like 2001 to me as Is This It.

6. Radiohead – In Rainbows / Kid A (2007/2000)

Another sneaker double feature and geez… Radiohead’s not in the top 5? That’s so risqué. Anyway: Kid A horrified me as a 16-year-old heavy rock fan in the early 2000s. I could not get over the “techno” beats and simply did not understand why a “rock band” had ceased to sound like a “rock band.” Where the hell were the guitars? Of course, the years passed and eventually I gave away to the currently widespread notion that, if you had to pick one, many “serious” rock music fans would say Radiohead is the best, most defining act of our generation (I guess we’re what, Gen Y? Maybe XY? I don’t know), like the Beatles, or Led Zeppelin, or, ugh, U2 before them. Now, while Kid A is a pretty revolutionary album, In Rainbows is definitely my favorite Radiohead release of the past ten years, solely because I prefer song-driven albums, and the songs that drive it are quite amazing. “15 Step”, “All I Need”, “Reckoner”… how do they do this? It’s Radiohead, man – like them, or forget about music cred.

5. The Shins – Chutes Too Narrow (2003)

This is where my list gets controversial: the Shins were as lovable then as they are dated now, yet I seriously considered rating this as the #1 album of the 2000s. Why? Because in my eyes and to my ears this is virtually a flawless record, arguably more so than any other album on this list. Front to back, these ten songs are the epitome of light-sounding, heavy-hearted indie pop of the 2000s (Death Cab, Postal Service, or even Decemberists albums may fulfill this role in other critics’ lists). On paper, the lyrics are annoyingly quirky (though too elaborate to look like what kool kidz would call “emo”) and, theoretically, the arrangements are kind of cheesy. The thing is: once Chutes Too Narrow is playing, I am unable to criticize it, and all I can do, and find myself doing, over and over again, is enjoying it because it sounds so damn good.

4. Arcade Fire – Funeral (2004)

This is a predictable pick, but it is oh so fair. Hyped so much that I wanted to dislike them on principle alone, yet so irresistibly honest, talented, and tight once you give them a chance, the Arcade Fire may be the “best band in the world” if Radiohead were to retire. If you haven’t seen them live this claim may sound silly, but this group is the real thing: 8 or 9 gifted musicians, many of them multi-instrumentalists who are capable of creating an experience rather than a mere rock concert (and you know that’s at least what David Byrne, David Bowie, and Bruce Springsteen think). I’ll admit that their records don’t carry their live magic as well, but then again, if these songs weren’t so great to begin with, the band and the crowd wouldn’t be so into it in a live setting. Neon Bible was good (in fact, from time to time I like it more than Funeral), but their first full-length is a perfect embodiment of a band that was ready to transcend the hype machine and prove themselves in the face of the adversity known as Internet backlash. Like its follower, Funeral is a complete album; “Haiti” and “Wake Up” are some of my favorite tunes of the decade, and I’m sure other people feel that way about many of this record’s other songs. I’ve been crassly wrong about this kind of predictions before (at one point I thought the Strokes would be the defining band of this decade… and then they released their third LP and went poof!), but I think the Arcade Fire is still not nearly as big as they should and hopefully will be.

3. PJ Harvey – Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea (2000)

Hell, the beginning of the decade sure feels like a really long time ago. I’ll even go ahead and tell you that nothing came close to Iron Maiden’s Brave New World (their first album as a 6-piece with Bruce Dickinson and Adrian Smith back in the band) in terms of new music I was excited about in 2000, save perhaps Rob Halford’s solo effort Resurrection. Times and tastes they have a-changed, and in retrospect my favorite album of the year 2000 is the most accessible full length of PJ Harvey’s awesome career. Arguably her masterpiece (I still like this and Is This Desire? better than Rid of Me or To Bring You My Love), Stories… is the portrait of a big city (in this case, NYC) from dusk to dawn. But screw the generic descriptions: the cool thing about this album is that its songs kill in so many different ways that at least half the tracks have “favorite song on the album” potential. There’s “Big Exit”, the fantastic opener with an insane chorus; the omniscience of “Good Fortune” and the raw sadness of “A Place Called Home”; the Thom Yorke duet “This Mess We’re In” and the crazy ending of “The Whores Hustle and the Hustlers Whore”; “Kamize,” the big rocker; “This is Love,” the honest foot-stomper; “We Float,” the blissful closer… and that’s not even all that is awesome about this album. This is a prime example of a record one keeps coming back to over the course of the years.

2. Spoon – Gimme Fiction (2005)

I could have made this a quadruple entry and included Girls Can Tell, Kill the Moonlight and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga because these are all amazing albums in their own right, but it just so happens that out of all the Spoon records I’ve heard, Gimme Fiction is the one that best holds together as an album (I understand how this seems to contradict my affinity for In Rainbows over Kid A), even though most people probably only remember the almost-hit “I Turn My Camera On”. In my book, Spoon ranks up there with Radiohead, the White Stripes, the New Pornographers, and a few select others among the most consistent bands of the decade, a.k.a. groups that released four or more good or excellent full length records in the 2000s… in fact, they may top that list, given how they have continued to push their musical boundaries AND refined their sound at the same time. Gimme Fiction opens with “The Beast and Dragon, Adored”, one of Britt Daniels’ most meta-musical moments, where over the slow beat he cryptically describes the process of songwriting for some of the albums’ later tracks, in the same subtle way he criticized the recording industry in Girls Can Tell’s “Lines in the Suit” (best Spoon song ever?), and then reaffirms his belief in rock n’ roll by playing the shortest, most dissonant guitar solo I can think of… all of which brings me to the point I have so poorly tried to express: that Daniels is a great lyricist, songwriter, and performer, period. And darn, that’s just the first song. Gimme Fiction is solid and diverse, original yet reminiscent of the some of the best rock and pop music of the past. Blasphemy! If there is one band that reminds me of the Beatles, it’s these guys.

1. Belle & Sebastian – The Life Pursuit / Dear Catastrophe Waitress (2006/2003)

I didn’t want to be too bothered by what should be the #1 album of the decade, as the people at Pitchfork, RollingStone, and other countless publications that actually pay their contributors will be laboring over cultural impact and whatnot. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of fanfare for Kid A, Merriweather Post Pavillion, Funeral, Love & Theft, Is This It, Elephant, Discovery, College Dropout, Person Pitch, a couple of Outkast and TV on the Radio albums, and so on. Of course I buy into some of that hype, after all it doesn’t hurt to listen to a highly-rated and -regarded album from time to time and see what you personally think of it. Sometimes you think the hype makes sense (Arcade Fire), while other times you wonder what the hell is wrong with people (Lil’ Wayne); most of the time you may find yourself in between, regarding some artists as pretty cool but perhaps slightly overrated (M.I.A.). Then there’s Belle & Sebastian, a band that was subjected to the most intense pre-MP3 hype, including the irrational adoration of obsessive fans and the unfounded hatred in the mouths of people who never really listened to them (I was there in 1999).

Scratch all that and start over: one can listen to Dear Catastrophe Waitress or The Life Pursuit and feel that B&S have all but detached from the sound and image they created in the late-nineties: gone were the mopey, lo-fi arrangements, in was the full-on badass pop band sound. Some bands have undergone intense transitions toward pop territory, but fewer have done so as gracefully and tastefully as this one. “Stay Loose”, “Another Sunny Day”, “The Blues Are Still Blue” and plenty of other tracks from these two albums have an almost Beatlesque kind of replay value. That these records never made it out of college radio matters not: this is some of the best pop music out there, stuff that will make you either dance or just smile… and boy, does it have a heart. If there is one thing these records (especially The Life Pursuit, which may be my favorite album, well, ever) have in common with B&S’ early releases, it’s that they can still be life-changing.

…

That’s it, that’s the list at least until next time I edit it.

Best. Title. Ever.

Before you notice I have no idea what I’m talking about, let me tell you this: as much a record as a ride, Dragonslayer is a humble epic. That I have totally failed to find the right words to describe it should be beside the point: Spencer Krug – also of Wolf Parade and Handsome Furs fame – has crafted the most imaginative set of songs I’ve heard in a long time (possibly my own fault) and given them the best album title, err… ever?

Dragonslayer‘s tracks make little sense on their own, or out or order. In this sequence, however, they make up a remarkably moving piece around a central metaphor (or so I perceive): an artist who sets out to “tell the kids” what the fuck is up by showing them the “ancient ways” of rock n’ roll. That said, the story is never clear, leaving you guessing what Icarus, dragon slayers, Nashville and eating butterflies all have to do with each other.

These carefully structured songs, often presented without (or with several) obvious choruses, are pestered with so many climaxes you’ll… nevermind, I’m not going there. Let’s just say that, three listens into this, you may still be wondering where these really badass parts are coming from. Spencer, what the fuck IS up?

This is definitely not Songwriting 101 territory. If you get over the titles and actually listen to “Apollo and the Buffalo and Anna Anna Anna Oh!” or  “You Go On Ahead (Trumpet Trumpet II),” you may wonder what kind of lucky maniac would construct such bizarre yet beautiful tunes and have the right people to play them along with (think ridiculously creative guitar work at. the. right. time.). I thought last year’s Wolf Parade album was great, but this is the kind of “taking it to the next level” that would make Charles Barkley proud.

But really, this review isn’t going to make any sense unless you listen to this album a few times. All I can do is ask that you do so because, all along its twisted ways (but specially toward the end), Dragonslayer rocks. This music is progressive but not “prog”, a feeling perhaps enhanced by a production that is simple, straightforward, and not the least bit flashy. The guitar – one of the single best aspects of this album – works not in front of, but side-by-side with Sunset Rubdown’s keyboards’ ensemble. The latter is not to shabby either; the main keyboard section of “Nightingale/December Song” is painfully pretty, in an early-1900s kind of way. And, to be truthful, Krug’s vocals are rather dramatic, to the point that some listeners may not be able to take seriously. That will be a shame, because in this context they work wonders in enhancing the overall epic feel of the album.
It really comes down to this: the feeling you get when you listen to the goddamn-awesome end of “Dragon’s Lair”, the album’s closing track, will prove that Dragonslayer is worthy of both your time and a fuckin’ repeat. If you make it through the whole thing and that doesn’t hit you, it’s because you are clearly not a champion.

LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU LIKE: Wolf Parade, The Decemberists, the idea of Arcade Fire playing Tool songs.

Gotta love the logo.

Wilco pulls off a miracle right off the bat by opening its seventh studio album (not counting the Mermaid Avenue records with Billy Bragg) with the infamously titled “Wilco (The Song)” which, miraculously, does NOT come out as conceded or even silly, but rather as a good ol’ fashioned romp (albeit with some non-traditional guitar work). Like many other songs on this record, it would have comfortably fit into Summerteeth or another one of the band’s earlier albums. The strong opener is followed by the psychedelic – if there was ever a good connotation for the term, it applies to this song – “Deeper Down”, and the epic, instant-classic “One Wing”, a tune that manages to bring together many of Wilco’s most notorious qualities (inventive drumming, clean and tuneful guitars, melancholy vocal lines, overall old school feel).

By the time the experimental, mildly disturbing “Bull Black Nova” and simple, efficient Feist duet “You and I” come around, you get the feeling that Jeff Tweedy has taken his band exactly where he wanted: if Sky Blue Sky was a laborious listen, it was a necessary step toward a direction Wilco (The Album) is closer to perfecting. The “dad rock” vibe is certainly there, and there is no indication it will be going away anytime soon; this is perhaps best exemplified when, halfway through the album, Tweedy’s “I don’t care anymore” is coupled with a droplet of realism: “but you never know.”

Wilco‘s second half is nearly as strong, featuring “Country Disappeared”, the kind of mandatory self-hating, heart-wrenching ballad Tweedy delivers better than most of his contemporaries; the perfect-pop with an alt-country feel “I’ll Fight”; and the oddly nostalgic closer “Everlasting.”  Don’t be surprised if, at that point, you feel compelled to start the whole thing over.

In a way, it’s inevitable that some critics will label this record as too safe; conversely, the great thing about this album is the fact that Tweedy seems remarkably comfortable with the group’s sound, to the point Wilco (The Album) sounds almost effortless. In this release, they are not a band trying to push their boundaries, but rather a veteran act preserving their territory with a solid set of songs – much like what Radiohead did with 2007′s In Rainbows. A great album.

FOR FANS OF: Neil Young, My Morning Jacket, Feist, The Band

No, she doesn't live in Grand Rapids.

At first glance, the Bat for Lashes’ sophomore album is a tough sell: what is up with THAT cover? If such silly art-school photography experiment is an indicator of how half-assed this record is going to sound, listeners must be in for a clunker. Luckily for those who choose to take that next step, when it comes to making music Natasha Khan (the real person behind Bat for Lashes) comes out less like a poseur and more like the real deal.

The primary reference point of Two Suns‘ sound has to be Kate Bush. Just as Bush was originally “discovered” by Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour, Khan received the Radiohead seal of approval when she was picked to open for them during their last European trek. Like Bush, Khan’s vocals also feel at home regardless of the minimalism or grandiosity of her songs’ arrangements: whether it’s the bare piano of “Moon and Moon” and the superb “Travelling Woman” or Two Suns’ denser highlights such as “Daniel” or “Glass”, her vocals remain the music’s focal point.

Bat for Lashes brings to mind other notorious female performers, notably PJ Harvey and Tori Amos, yet she rarely sounds like a copycat/rip-off of her predecessors (though I swear there’s a tune that sounds like “Siren Song” on Little Earthquakes). Aided both by the variety of its arrangements and the technological competence with which they are recorded, Two Suns sounds sharp, interesting, and unique: it’s not exactly an electronic album, nor is it easily qualifiable as pop, rock, or even “indie” (for the sake of making up a genre, how about “fantasy goth pop”?). Instead, it falls into the thankfully blurry “good music” category.

With plenty of idyosincratic moments, Two Suns surely won’t please everybody – if “Daniel” doesn’t do it for you, I’m not sure what will. Conversely, this is a difficult album to dismiss as “total crap”: despite its questionable outer appearance, this is at the very least a well-crafted and -executed record. Personally, this is the best thing I’ve heard so far in 2009.

FOR FANS OF: Bjork, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, PJ Harvey, The Knife / Fever Ray.

Metal-folk or medieval prog?

It doesn’t take much digging to realize that, even in the midst of the digital revolution, the concept of a “concept-album” is alive and well. Green Day likes the idea so much that they’re aiming for a repeat this summer with American Idiot‘s follow-up. Coheed & Cambria is apparently putting out boxsets. Neil Young has written a whole record about electric cars from the ’50s.

With all this in mind, the fact that the new Decemberists (whose leader, Colin Meloy, has always been prone to epic storytelling) is essentially a single prog-rock song broken into 17-tracks is not all that surprising. The real clincher is that this 52-plus minute song actually ROCKS and, at certain precious times, calls for some (almost) serious headbanging. The album has ’70s Rush stamped all over (not that 2112 and Hemispheres ever sounded this graceful). “A Bower Scene” and “The Queen’s Rebuke/The Crossing” wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Black Sabbath and Deep Purple; “Won’t Want for Love” made me fondly recall Therion and The Gathering (I know, right, who the fuck is that); the highlight ” The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid” brings down the house under the weight of guest singer Shara Worden (My Brightest Diamond) belting out like a female Freddie Mercury.

At this point I must admit I have no clue what the record’s storyline is about. I haven’t paid much attention to the lyrics, but apparently it has to do with baby-killing queens or something like that. It really doesn’t matter: if it sounds epic then it’s epic, and while I’m sure at some point I’ll sit down with the booklet and follow the plot, but until then I expect to be fully entertained by Hazards soft-then-heavy progressions, excellent guest vocalists, and overall grandiose demeanor. The record even pulls the dirty trick of recurring musical themes (the title track appears several times, and other bits and pieces come back around as well) that incidentally saves it from sagging in the middle like so many other ambitious prog records (think Mars Volta’s Frances The Mute), adding a whole new meaning to the term “replay value.”

By muscle alone, The Hazards of Love overpowers other Decemberists albums; it also happens to be superior in songcraft and ambition. Half-brilliant, half-mediocre works such as Picaresque and Castaways and Cutouts did yield better singles (there is nothing here that beats “Leslie Ann Levine” or “We Both Go Down Together”), but as full record, Hazards stands out as the Decemberists’ best.

LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU LIKE: old Rush, Queen, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, …and late-90s Gothic Metal?

Optical illusion included.

I know I start half of my reviews this way, but here it is: I didn’t care much for Animal Collective prior to this release. Yes, I did enjoy Panda Bear’s solo outing, 2007′s Person Pitch; and no, I have not heard every single A.C.  album (I tried their last two, Feels and Strawberry Jam; they left me bored and annoyed, respectively).

All in all, there was no indication I would be able to enjoy Merriweather Post Pavilion. That the album was already being hailed as a masterpiece weeks prior to its street date certainly didn’t help. But hell, I gave it a try, and while it would take me a few listens to get into several of the tracks, MPP did provide a good deal of instant pleasures: “My Girls” and  “Summertime Clothes” are catchy from the get-go, smartly positioned early into the album.

The more I came back for those two songs, the more chances the rest of the album had to develop. Scaringly enough, the whole thing started to sound really damn good. “Bluish” developed into a groovy, almost dance-y number; “Brothersport” became a carnival in the basement. From beginning to end, MPP presents itself as a densely layered album that hits you when you least expect – whether it’s the strange sounds, the slowly revealing melodies or the down-to-earth lyrics, there is enough material here to keep the listener coming back for a long time (at least until the summer!).

If you have never heard them and are expecting this review to provide you an idea of what A.C. sounds like, then you’re in a fucking rut. Thankfully, it’s not just random noise (though you wonder what the hell they are using to make those sounds). I can’t call them electronic music (which they partly are), much less pop music (though it is certainly catchy at times). It’s definitely not classic rock, but you can hear 1960s-influenced melodies in many of the tracks. Calling it experimental is equally silly, particularly because these guys have had 7 or 8 albums’ worth of material to try things out – at this point in their career, A.C. doesn’t sound like they’re experimenting anything, but rather consolidating what they’ve been building all along.

Based on my experience (listening to their last few albums) and research (reading about the handful of older ones), MPP is definitely Animal Collective’s most accessible work. Conversely, that in itself doesn’t make it an easy listen: this is pop music from the future, except the future is now and this will never be all that widely popular either. This is a remarkably unique group – something that often worked against them, in my opinion – and MPP is arguably their definitive statement; it’s too early to tell if this belongs up there with Kid A and Is This It? among the most iconic records of this decade, but they sure tried their best to make a case.

FOR FANS OF: hell do I know.