correcting a delinquency
“Hey!” you’ve been saying. “You never finished your top 10 of 2010 list! I’ve been in suspense!”
(Alternatively, you just said, “Huh? You were posting something with favorite albums or something? Oh, right. I didn’t really notice.”)
In either case, let’s make this Sunday good for something and finish out that list.
The interesting thing about the top half of this list is that if you were paying attention all year, you would’ve seen any of these coming from a mile away. They’re all artists I saw in concert last year (some multiple times). This common thread introduces the circular question of whether I really liked the albums because I saw them performed live or I went and saw them performed live because I liked the albums so much. Or some cyclical combination thereof.
Similarly, with only one exception, they’re all by long-time favorite artists of mine. Here, we have a similar pondering: Did I love all these albums just because I already loved the artist, or do they remain my favorite artists because they make albums like this? Did I not give others a fair shot? Were the top two slots already determined in April and May? Does this make my choices less valid? Does all that even matter when I’m not claiming to be anything but a music fan who also likes to write about music?
Too many questions. Not enough lists or pictures. Onward!
5. Old 97’s — The Grand Theatre, Volume One
This slot and the #4 slot were actually the most difficult to decide on; I kept going back and forth and might even switch again after this is posted. In short, this album is one of my favorite bands at their finest. (Unfortunately, its high degree of awesomeness made me realize how comparatively weaker Blame It On Gravity is.) The raw instrumental/rhythmic energy and lyrical witticisms are both turned up to 11 here, on both the rockers (which rock) and the slower numbers. I only finally bought this album right before I saw them in concert in December, and it gained an immediate spot in permanent in-car rotation. Its success is that it sounds fresh and yet classically, identifiably Old 97’s-y.
Favorite track: “Champaign, Illinois.” It was co-written with Bob Dylan (sort of), and is chock full of simple, brilliant little lines. How can you go wrong? Also reminds me of Josh Ritter’s “Harrisburg,” in the “towns that are offered as substitutes for heaven” category.
Second-favorite track: “You Were Born To Be In Battle.” I love me some Rhett (Swett) tunes, but Murry’s deeper voice is perfect for this song, which has that classic, feel-it-in-your-bones country sound.
Least favorite track: “Two Family Trees” Think it’s a bonus track. Just can’t get into it — the lyrics don’t make complete sense to me, and the melody is sort of repetitive in a bad way (unlike repetitive-in-a-very-good-way “Every Night Is Friday Night (Without You”).
4. Jenny and Johnny — I’m Having Fun Now
I didn’t realize until a few weeks ago that I’d been listening to this album out of sequence for months, having downloaded it on Amazon and then burned the tracks in the wrong order. I kind of like my wrong track sequencing better, but in any order, what I love about this album is its dark/sunny balance. They’re having fun now, and that 60s California vibe with surf-ish guitars and guy/girl harmonies definitely supports that. Then, at the same time, we have the repeated lyrical themes of knives and snakes and sadness, along with some darker instrumentation. Oh, and the song about the economy. Put together, there was a bit of a Raveonettes-ish feel to the album, and a delicious complexity that wasn’t evident on the first listens.
Favorite track: “My Pet Snakes.” Pow! This song packs a bitingly bitter punch, sung to a ridiculously catchy melody. It’s impossible to listen to it these days without remembering hearing it sung live, which was a show highlight at the time. “All the best of luck with your career” has never been stated so deliciously sarcastically. Yes, this paragraph sets some sort of adverb record.
Second-favorite track: “New Yorker Cartoon.” Okay, I love that it’s a song about — or at least mentioning — New Yorker cartoons. But the weird, dreamy, druggy imagery, plus the harmonies in the chorus, is really what makes it a standout. I get such interesting visions when listening to it.
Least favorite track: “Scissor Runner.” Heard as a free download somewhere, long before the others, and worried the whole album would be as disappointing. It still sounds thrown-together and unfinished.
3. Beach House — Teen Dream
Yes, the staple on every good hipster’s 2010 list! The original goal when buying this album was just to get familiar enough with the songs so that standing there during their opening set for Vampire Weekend wouldn’t be too boring. Little did I know I’d become so entranced at the show that I’d be then listening to this thing on repeat for months and diving into their back catalog. And still listening. How should this sound be characterized? It’s pretty… luscious: layers of keyboards and drums and various twinkly threads of electronic sounds all swirling around together. In short, it’s hauntingly beautiful. As for the vocals, I have a confession: Until I went to the concert, I definitely thought it was a dude singing. Now, it’s clear that it’s a rich, heavy female voice (Victoria Legrand). And I don’t always get the lyrics, but they’re certainly interesting.
Favorite song: “Zebra.” As mentioned in the “about” of this blog, I am a sucker for soaring choruses, and this is one that so sneakily builds, pulsing with energy, to its chills-inducing peak. This sounds really inappropriate. I’m talking about a song, people. Really. (Though the experience is kinda similar.) I still maintain it rips off Roy Orbison’s “You Got It,” though.
Second-favorite song: “Take Care.” Near-end-of-movie scene: The guy who’s had unrequited feelings for that girl who’s always just been a friend goes back to her at the end of the movie after something terrible happens, and when she begins comforting him, her longtime feelings her for him are revealed. All of this happens wordlessly, with this song playing, of course.
Least favorite song: “Real Love.” It seems to struggle to get started for a while, and “boom, boom, booms” have always felt a bit awkward.
2. Josh Ritter — So Runs The World Away
Was there ever any competition for the top two slots here? Not really; it was just a matter of which would be number-one. The mood of this album is set with the opener, “Curtains.” It says, “This album is major, sweeping, epic. Get ready for the performance.” The song-sequencing flow is perfect; the storytelling is top-notch (there’s a reason Josh Ritter is coming out with a novel this year); the instrumentation is as big and dramatic (or, on some songs, expertly and delicately restrained) as the songs deserve. I’ll also count the Best Music Video Ever (for “The Curse” — YouTube this immediately, people) as bonus points for an imaginative, literary, powerful album. Even the song that’s been widely regarded as the fan un-favorite — “See How Man Was Made” — is a winner in my book; the Neil Young influence/homage/vibe in both lyrics and music is perfectly welcome. It’s interesting to note, though, that this is not even my favorite Josh Ritter album.
Favorite song: “Change Of Time.” This was a nearly impossible decision, but the bridge is the kicker. Generally (and especially if I’m listening through good headphones), it moves me to tears. The cascade of drums and guitar and piano and bass hits like a waterfall, after the beautifully hushed, subtly accompanied acoustic guitar that opens the song. Oh, and don’t forget the brilliant lyrics (did I mention I’m also a sucker for songs involving memory and time?). Fun commute fact: If I start the album right as I pull out of the driveway, the killer bridge of this song kicks in right as I’m accelerating on the on-ramp of the highway. It’s awesome.
Second-favorite song: “Lantern.” What, it inspired the very name of the blog, and it’s not good enough? I know. It is good, though. The Bruce Springsteen comparisons were everywhere in the press when the album came out, and I admit I didn’t quite get it until hearing this song live. Then it clicked. And lyrically? “So throw away those lamentations/We both know them all too well/If there’s a book of jubilations/We’ll have to write it for ourselves.” I’d get that tattooed on my brain if I could. If that makes any sense.
Least favorite song: “The Remnant.” In an album of such delightfully varied songs, this one is a little too similar to “Rattling Locks” in its percussive, bass-heavy sound. And “Rattling Locks” does it better.
1. Jakob Dylan — Women + Country.
Durrr. It’s Jaaaakob. Just kidding. Points are not awarded just because someone’s been my number-one celebrity (yeah, I know, he’s not really a celebrity) crush since I was 12 years old. This is an honest win, a true triumph of an album. He’s mentioned in interviews that the lyrical themes here are supposed to be timeless, and they definitely are; their universality and ability to get close to the rawest of human experience make the album feel… substantial. JD has always been a lyrics guy (which is why he’s one of my favorites), but they’ve never been so impressively stripped down as they are on here. The poetry and literary resonance are still there, and perhaps there more than ever, but they’re not wrapped up in the more obvious poetic forms and references that characterized his earlier works.
Okay, let’s do a separate paragraph about the musical qualities. To start, Neko Case (one of my longtime favorite artists) is on here, supplying her gorgeous voice. So is Kelly Hogan, who quickly became another favorite. Throw in generous helpings of pedal steel (mmmmm), and everything else that goes with alt-country/classic country/”real” country/whatever you want to call that kind of country that awesome rather than bad, and I’m sold. More than sold. A big deal was made out of the T-Bone Burnett production, with some critics saying he injected too much of “his” sound, but if this is his sound, it sure is a good one.
Favorite song: “Everybody’s Hurting.” Once again, it’s all about the bridge. The entire song is filled with excellent moments, from the little key-change-ish-thing that happens during the word “open” in the first verse to the chilling almost-spoken-word background vocals during the chorus. But the best moment, by far: “We’d sell this valley if we could go north/Where the sun sets dripping buckets of gold/Through snow-topped thunderheads/And rows of moving clouds/Coming down this mountain/How sweet salvation sounds.” It’s a… religious experience, kinda. I especially love the aching longing in the way “sun sets dripping buckets of gold” is sung, and how the down-note-by-note melody in “coming down this mountain” mirrors actual steps down a mountain.
Second-favorite song: “Nothing But The Whole Wide World.” With its repetition, religion references, and catchy melody, it sounds like a classic, like something that’s been passed down from generation to generation because it’s just that simple and meaningful. And to go back to that tattoo-on-a-brain idea from a few paragraphs up, there are certainly several nominees here.
Least favorite song:”We Don’t Live Here Anymore.” Much of the rest of the album is slow in a deliberate, compelling way. I like the lyrics, but this one is slow in a somewhat plodding, draggy way.
I can’t end on a bad note (ha — no pun intended). So, to summarize, 2010 had some great music from old favorites and new discoveries.
Finally done! Onto 2011!
