The Top 100 Albums of the 2000s (70-61)
70. Wilco A Ghost Is Born (2004)
And you thought Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was difficult? After the “American Radiohead” talks started up with that much-ballyhooed 2002 album, Wilco decided to follow through on YHF’s promise and make an album that was legitimately difficult. A downer album in the vein of Tonight’s The Night, The Idiot and, yes, Kid A, A Ghost Is Born seems to exist on two poles – the cracked, barely audible whisper of Jeff Tweedy’s drug-addled voice (this is a rehab album if there ever was one) and the all-out skronk of the crazy tight band. Palatable numbers like “Hell Is Chrome” and “Hummingbird” are sung like afterthoughts, as if Tweedy has forgotten the songs before he’d even finished singing them, while “Spiders (Kidsmoke)” dives guitar first into particularly noisy motorik and “Less Than You Think” is just plain noisy. Upon AGIB’s release, Wilco began to lose a little critical cache. Critics took AGIB to task for its indulgence, before taking them to task an album later for not being indulgent enough. By that end, Wilco’s post-YHF is highly underrated, with AGIB being the high water mark, delivering on its predecessor’s promise and then some. A Ghost Is Born is a stark and difficult album that pays dividends.
“Hummingbird”
69. Wu-Tang Clan 8 Diagrams (2007)
8 Diagrams was supposed to be Wu-Tang Clan’s triumphant return. Following the death of court jester Ol’ Dirty Bastard, 8 Diagrams was intended to re-ignite the Wu-Tang brand (as if it actually needed to be re-ignited). Everyone was geared up for the biggest comeback of the decade and then *poof* everything went up in smoke for RZA and Co. Release date conflicts, group infighting, tepid reviews and absolutely dismal sales got in the way of what could have been a wonderful thing. The group’s most relevant members, Raekwon and Ghostface Killah (who appear on the record sparingly) publicly denounced the album, calling RZA a “hip hop hippie” and referring to his murky, difficult production as “Black Eyed Peas shit.” These days, when the Wu get together to perform live, they gloss over 8 Diagrams completely. Obviously it’s a black mark on the group’s career.
But it shouldn’t be, dammit. Sure, 8 Diagrams is a legitimately weird, non-commercial album, deeply immersed in black psychedelica, recalling the eeriest tracks by the likes of Sly And The Family Stone and Funkadelic (whose George Clinton appears on “Wolves”), but it’s a wonderful record too. RZA’s production is unlike anything else in hip-hop. You will not hear anything like “Unpredictable,” “Sunlight” or “The Heart Gently Weeps” anywhere else. And despite the friction in the band at the time of the album’s recording, all eight members sound charged and awesome. Ghost and Rae make the most of their too few appearances, Meth sounds re-energized and the Wu’s benchwarmers (Inspectah Deck, U-God, Masta Killa) manage to quietly steal the album from their more celebrated peers. 8 Diagrams feels like an unprecedented album, the kind that we aren’t likely to ever hear again. That’s a shame because it’s probably the biggest and best grower of the decade.
“Unpredictable”
68. Animal Collective Sung Tongs (2004)
Had Sung Tongs maintained the dizzying heights of its opening one-two punch “Leaf House” and “Who Could Win A Rabbit?” there’s a good chance that this album would be sitting 67 spots higher. But just because Sung Tongs doesn’t maintain that kind of impossible pace doesn’t mean the rest of the album is a waste. Sure, there are a few duds and one particularly vile 12-minute indulgence (“Visiting Friends,”) but it’s on Sung Tongs where Animal Collective made the gigantic leap from head-up-their-asses basement show noise-mongers to full-on (sub)cultural phenomenon. “We Tigers” show AC as the true kings of the wild frontier, “College” captures the Brian Wilson essence that would define Panda Bear’s Comfy In Nautica and “Mouth Wooed Her” shows beauty and unpredictable oddness co-existing in perfect unity. Sung Tongs set in motion the promise of Animal Collective’s talent and ability – every subsequent album became appointment listening, whether it was worthy or not. Animal Collective eventually fulfilled the promise of Sung Tongs, but this breakthrough album is an astounding achievement on its own and one of the most influential of the decade.
“Leaf House”
67. Modest Mouse Good News For People Who Love Bad News (2004)
At the time of its release, many critics talked about the miracle that was The Moon & Antarctica. How such a strange, warped band could release such a moody, seasick album on the major label dime seemed implausible. Hardly. Difficult indie bands jumping to major labels is nothing new. Sonic Youth, Husker Du and even the Butthole Surfers all made the seemingly groundbreaking leap years prior. Ho hum. None of those bands, however, were able to use those major label dollars to truly crossover. That’s why Modest Mouse’s wonderful second major label release is the real miracle. Containing all the tics and warts that the band had in their earliest K Records days (albeit under a glossy new sheen that happened to fit Modest Mouse like a glove) and a newfound, somewhat annoying Tom Waits fetish, Good News proved to be the indie album that snuck into the cultural lexicon at large, landing the band a spot on Saturday Night Live, having the album’s hit track “Float On” featured on American Idol for some reason and basically opening up the doors for a good four years of indie rock (or at least indie-influenced bands) to enjoy their moment in the spotlight. With the likes of Spoon, the Shins, Vampire Weekend, Arcade Fire and countless other bands breaking into the mainstream, it’s startling to think that a band as strange and quirky as Modest Mouse were the ones who smashed down the doors. Good News makes a terrific summer jam and one that even your little sister can get into, but it still remains Modest Mouse through and through. We’re all lucky for that.
“Satin In A Coffin”
66. Andrew WK I Get Wet (2002)
On the surface of it, Andrew WK does not make music intended for critics. His brand of hyper-compressed dance metal is just way too video gamey and his party-obsessed lyrics are too silly (song titles include “It’s Time To Party,” “Party Hard,” “Party Til You Puke”). Critics were really iffy when Andrew WK’s debut I Get Wet was released in 2002, not knowing whether to play it off as a joke or whether to approach it honestly. Listening to I Get Wet eight years later, it’s still difficult to tell, but after this much time, you’ve either embraced Andrew WK’s slobbering, sweat-drenched, dunderhead rock or you’re just remembering that he ever existed right now. As a blogger (updating my site every three months still makes me a blogger, right?), I could try to justify I Get Wet on the grounds that underneath all the layers of studio-polish and mini-orchestra keyboards lies an immensely musical album full of sneakily simple melodies and so-dumb-it’s-smart songwriting, but it’s really no use. I Get Wet isn’t meant to be intellectualized or justified, it’s meant to be a gut punch – a reminder to pull our head out of our asses and just rock the fuck out from time to time (all the time). I Get Wet shows that sometimes passive music enjoyment is not enough. Oftentimes it’s those sweaty fat dudes high-fiving in the pit that have the right idea.
“Ready To Die”
65. Mission Of Burma OnOffOn (2004)
The most essential track on OnOffOn may be the most easily overlooked. “[Blank}” is 15 seconds of silence that sits nine songs into this 16 song comeback album. It represents the 20 years of silence that took place when seminal Boston post-punks Mission Of Burma broke up due to singer Roger Miller’s worsening tinnitus. A slow building cult following (thanks to books like Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life) eventually got original members Clint Conley, Peter Prescott and Miller along with tape manipulator Bob Weston (pinch hitting for Martin Swope) to return to the stage and, ultimately, the studio. OnOffOn’s first eight songs were previously unreleased and unrecorded tracks from the band’s early 80s heyday while the final seven songs were written in present day. “[Blank}” provides a symbol of the band’s interrupted timeline, but it’s hardly an indicator of a drop-off in quality. Despite years of inactivity, the band’s musical muscles never atrophied. Newer tracks like the visceral “Wounded World” and the bouncing “Nicotine Bomb” are every bit as cranky, layered and excellent as older tracks like the urgent “The Setup” or the sprawling “Max Ernst’s Dream” (or classic tracks like “This Is Not A Photograph” and “That’s When I Reach For My Revolver” for that matter). If anything, they’re better. OnOffOn proved that Mission Of Burma were never at risk for being out of touch, they were simply waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with them.
“Wounded World”
64. Sleater-Kinney The Woods (2005)
If you were ever on the fence with Sleater-Kinney (like I once was), then you’ve obviously never heard The Woods, their hugely muscular swan song. Most Sleater-Kinney fans have more perspective on The Woods than I do. They can fit the album in the context of the rest of this beloved band’s output – how everything was kind of building to this point. Me, I just jumped in at the end and worked backwards from there.
After spending the better part of their career on Kill Rock Stars, Sleater-Kinney decided their last kick at the can would be on Sub Pop, one of the last (mostly) independent labels still releasing high quality rock. And boy is The Woods high quality rock. Recalling testosterone fueled near-metal classic rock acts like Led Zeppelin and Blue Cheer, The Woods effectively takes the piss out of the then current wave of dance-loving indie rock pretty boys (“You come around looking 1984/ You’re such a bore, 1984/ Nostalgia, you’re using it like a whore/ It’s better than before,” sings Carrie Brownstein on “Entertain”). On The Woods, Sleater-Kinney sound like a band on a mission. Superficially, it sounds like a mission to kill the listener with constant low-end rumble and immolating guitar noise, but in the end it’s the same mission statement Sleater-Kinney have been pushing since when I wasn’t paying attention: there ought not be any gender politics in rock; no one’s conquering “boys’ territory” here, Sleater-Kinney just rock.
“Wilderness”
63. Jay-Z American Gangster (2007)
After the roaring, career-defining success of The Blueprint, Jay-Z couldn’t justify an album’s existence unless it was heavily draped in a gimmick: sequels (Blueprints 2 and 3), retirement albums (The Black Album) and comeback albums (Kingdome Come) among others. American Gangster is perhaps the most gimmicky album of them all, “inspired” by the Ridley Scott film of the same name and complete with sound clips and frequent Frank Lucas references. Shawn Carter saw his own life in Lucas’ drug dealing story and decided the connection was strong enough to justify another album that wasn’t as good as The Blueprint. Luckily, Jay-Z knew well enough to keep the common thread loose, allowing him to utilize the concept and discard it as he pleased. In fact, the album’s finest moment, a duet with Beanie Sigel on “Expensive Shit,” has no ties to the film whatsoever. American Gangster takes time to get going, but once the strident “No Hook” kicks in, the album doesn’t look back, rolling through career-defining celebration tracks (“Roc Boys (And The Winner Is)”), fierce duets (“Success” – never has a buried hatchet sounded so good) and some of the most intricate and intelligent wordplay on record (“Blue Magic”). It’s been all downhill artistically for Hov since The Blueprint, but American Gangster represents an exciting, albeit unheralded, return to form.
“Ignorant Shit”
62. Harvey Milk Life…The Best Game In Town (2008)
Heavy music is supposed to be violent. It’s intended to be visceral and dangerous, as if listening to it actually might hurt you. No moment in all the 2000s was as violent and menacing as the two-and-a-half minute “solo” that stands as the centerpiece of “Death Goes To The Winner,” the opening track from Harvey Milk’s spectacular Life…The Best Game In Town. As the drums thud amidst a flurry of residual guitar and bass fuzz, the lead guitar squeals and moans, as if the guitar neck were being strangled to death. It’s a noisy, atonal mess, and it’s brutal and bloody, the way good metal should be.
Of course, Harvey Milk may be one of the more violent and intimidating bands of the last 15 years, but they’re also first rate jokers. “Death Goes To The Winner” opens innocently enough with some words about Christmas and Santa Claus and closes with allusions to the Velvet Underground and the Beatles. That dichotomy of sludgy brutality and sinister grins is what Harvey Milk does best, and nowhere is that better exemplified than on Life…The Best Game In Town. Whether they’re rolling through old punk covers that sound like a car chase down a steep mountain (“We Destroy The Family”), shape-shifting epics (“Roses”), laborious death marches (“Skull Sock s & Rope Shoes”), screechy Jesus Lizard tributes (“Barnburner”) or simply out-popping pop metal (“Motown”), they remain equal parts menacing and maniacal. Life… shows that there is still room left for unpredictability in music.
“Motown”
61. Iron & Wine Our Endless Numbered Days (2004)
From Our Endless Numbered Days onward, every review of an Iron & Wine record went out of its way to discuss how singer-songwriter Sam Beam had adopted a fuller sound, implementing full band arrangements and cleaner, seemingly less intimate production. Such is the weight of the creaky, lo-fi The Creek Drank The Cradle. It seems that critics still have it in their heads that every Iron & Wine should be adorned with tape hiss and bedroom recording intimacy. That’s a fallacy, however. Even with a more fleshed out sound and near-rockers like “On Your Wings,” Our Endless Numbered Days is the sound of Iron & Wine. Despite a fuller, more pristine sound, Days doesn’t sacrifice an ounce of the intimacy that its predecessor boasts. The songs, with their soothing harmonies, gentle finger picking and moody melodies, are simply more realized. A little percussion here and there are not meant as affronts to lo-fi purists, they’re simply tasteful touches that simply add to this beautiful compilation of introspective, rustic folk.
“Sunset Soon Forgotten”
July 15th, 2010 at 5:27 am
I`ve read few of articles on your blog and can say it was really interesting, thanks for sharing that.