The Top 100 Albums of the 2000s (30-21)
30. The Constantines The Constantines (2001)
At one point in The Constantines’ spirited self-titled debut, singer Bryan Webb summons the spirit of Rod Stewart, relaying the chorus of “Young Turks.” Hearing the refrain causes a bit of a jolt, but when filtered through Guelph, ON’s finest, it takes a weight that Stewart’s admittedly pretty great song doesn’t. I’m not saying the Constantines are better than Stewart, but when soundtracking the pitfalls of youth, no one sounds as impassioned and wisened as Webb. His gruff, throaty croon recalls the likes of Bruce Springsteen, Leatherface’s Frankie Stubbs or even a solo Robbie Robertson, except Webb’s voice exudes more soul and his band hits with the fierce and calculated precision of a military-trained punk band. While the band’s chunky, stomping post-punk sets the tone, Webb’s voice gives everything more weight – adding a gruff, defiant, blue-collar exterior to a worn down and nearly tender interior. On bigger tracks like the clap-along “Some Party” and the swinging “No Ecstasy” Webb and his bandmates create an apocalyptic rage and some of the most dynamic punk rock this side of a Mackaye-Piccioto split, but it’s on the slow-burning “Hyacinth Blues” (“O-V-E-R-D-O-S-E”) and the wonderfully wistful, all-for-one, one-for-all anthem “Little Instruments” that the band, and Webb inparticular, truly shine. These songs show a band that has the tricks of the trade to make quality rock, but can also make waves in stirring hearts. The Constantines play a style of music that I’m admittedly already biased towards, but on this debut they prove they can find universal truth and emotional resonance in their edgy anthems.
“Hyacinth Blues”
29. Joel Plaskett Emergency Down At The Khyber (2001)
In Bob Mersereau’s book The Top 100 Canadian Albums, The Joel Plaskett Emergency’s Down At The Khyber is ranked at No. 46 (granted, No. 1 on this list was Harvest, which might not even be one of the top 10 Neil Young albums of the 70s). While it may not be the best Canadian album, it’s almost certainly the most Canadian album. References to Edmonton, Sioux St, Marie and, of course, Joel Plaskett’s home of Halifax (among others) are peppered throughout the album, but more than that, the album sounds Canadian. Plaskett originally cut his teeth with Thrush Hermit, one of the highlights of a Halifax scene that included Sloan, Local Rabbits and Super Friendz. Thrush Hermit’s sound was indebted to both their contemporaries as well as to the work of Bruce Cockburn, The Tragically Hip, The Band and Neil Young and Crazy Horse. Plaskett’s early solo work contains many of these same hallmarks, but with less emphasis on the stretched out Crazy Horse jams (although Plaskett’s guitar work remains exquisite on Khyber) and greater emphasis on gawkily sincere and folky power pop (like a Canadian Jackson Browne). “True Patriot Love” is pure cross-border sugary sweetness, while “Light Of The Moon” howls wistfully and the torch song duet “Blinding Light” would have been a standout on 69 Love Songs. It’s a startlingly sweet and satisfying affair and it was more than enough to springboard a successful solo career for Plaskett in his home and native land. That the American’s have yet to catch on is merely their loss. Like with hockey, south of the border ignorance is just a sign that the Yanks don’t know what’s good for them.
“Blinding Light”
28. Ghostface Killah Supreme Clientele (2000)
“Eh yo, how can I move a crowd?” asks Ghostface Killah on “Ghost Deini.” “First of all, ain’t no mistakes allowed.”
That’s good advice and all, but it’s hard to know what is and isn’t a “mistake” when he’s the one establishing the rules. After all, Ghostface is the one who raps the line, “This rap is like ziti, facin’ me real TV/Crash at high speeds, strawberry kiwi” and actually has the gall to make it the chorus. If there were real rules here, they certainly would have been broken by this point. It’s no matter, however, Ghost is in charge (as he would be throughout the rest of the decade, almost single-handedly keeping the Wu-brand alive in the new century) and it’s up to us to bend and contort to the rules of hip-hop as Ghost bends and contorts the rules of what it means to be a great rapper. On Supreme Clientele, Ghost does away with the concept of narrative congruency; it’s all about the rhymes and seeing through the potential of the English language. Ghost’s rhyming dictionary is thicker than anyone’s and his point of reference is higher too. Supreme Clientele is often convoluted and confusing, but the most satisfying puzzles always are.
“Ya see what I mean?” Ghost screams following the second verse of “Nutmeg” (still my favorite rap song of the decade). No, we don’t, Ghost, but we’re loving the confusion.
“Nutmeg”
27. Deerhoof The Runners Four (2005)
Depending on your familiarity with Deerhoof, The Runners Four is either the most sprawling, impenetrable mess you’ve ever heard or one of the most lovable straight up pop albums of the decade. Longtime fans of the Oakland, CA four-piece (soon to become a three-piece after this album’s completion), saw The Runners Four as another step towards the middle. Even at 20 tracks, all of them of a substantial enough length, The Runners Four was pegged as being the “pop” record by those who’d been there since at least Reveille. First time listeners, however, could be forgiven for not knowing where the hell those people are coming from. Deerhoof were never a straight band, and this is not a straight album. The aggravating jackhammer guitars at the mid-section of “Scream Team” is anything but inviting and “Midnight Bicycle Mystery” runs through a lot of noise before a song starts to take shape. Even the straighter moments are peppered with moments of atonal hyperactivity and cacophony. But there isn’t a song on The Runners Four that doesn’t make the listener, any listener, sit up and take immediate notice at least once. While the band makes a lot of room for quieter and slower moments like “Chatterboxes” and the lovely “Odyssey,” they still know how to pen an absolutely satisfying straight-up rock song as shown on “O’Malley, Former Underdog,” “Wrong Time Capsule” and “Spirit Ditties of No Tone.” No matter what you’re background is with Deerhoof, The Runners Four captures the band satisfying both sides of their sound.
“Scream Team”
26. Spoon Girls Can Tell (2001)
It’s kind of funny to think about now, seeing as how they’ve become this huge indie rock powerhouse, but my discovery of Spoon was kind of accidental. Although I was already one for music magazines and websites, Spoon had completely been off my radar. Then one day my buddy was doing some CD shopping and noticed this cool album cover with an artistic close-up of a record spinning (this was early 2001, we were still listening to a lot of emo and hardcore – at the time those bands were all about the tasteful photographs of guitars, drums and soundboard knobs). He picked up the album unheard and we gave it spin on our drive home (we all get one successful unheard purchase in our life – those albums often become our favorites). Our initial thoughts on Girls Can Tell, Spoon’s third album, was that it sounded like an ultra-stylish, modish blues record. We liked it, but we weren’t sure why.
I don’t necessarily hear the blues aspect when listening to Girls Can Tell today. It’s got some warm tones and singer Britt Daniel certainly sings with soul, but there’s nothing resembling an actual blues structure. What I do know, however, is that we were right to like this album in the first place and looking back it’s easy to see why. Girls Can Tell is a wonderfully crafted, reassuringly sophisticated and sexy indie rock record. It’s not just that the band can land a groove as surprisingly funky as the one on “The Fitted Shirt” or nail a harmony as subtley affecting as the one that opens “Lines In A Suit”; on Girls Can Tell, Spoon finds their sweet spot. The band had released some top-notch material in the 90s (specifically 1998’s Series Of Sneaks), but nothing had sounded so whole and wholly Spoon until Girls Can Tell. Looking back at my first exposure to this band, it was a total “Who are these guys?” moment. Now that we know exactly who they are, Girls Can Tell stands as the album where Spoon became something more than just a really solid indie band with a Frank Black fetish. They became their own, entirely honed-in entity.
“The Fitted Shirt”
25. The New Pornographers Mass Romantic (2000)
I’ve spent years trying to find an indie pop album that glistened with as much giddy infectiousness as Mass Romantic. So far, nothing. While not being the New Pornographers’ best album, Mass Romantic remains just about the most satisfying pop album I’ve heard in years. Originally intended as a one-off featuring the best and brightest of the Vancouver music scene (Carl Newman, Dan Bejar, Neko Case, etc.), Mass Romantic proved to be so good that it ended up becoming the priority project of the majority of the members. Picking out highlights on Mass Romantic would be the same as writing out the tracklist (although I want to make special mention of “The Body Says No,” an awesome song that is almost never mentioned). Suffice to say, Mass Romantic, while the least organic of the New Pornos’ albums, finds this group coalescing to create something truly magical. Carl Newman’s handle on pop songcraft is unparalleled and his songs are only improved upon by Neko Case’s ridiculously powerful and moving voice (Case gets the best songs on Mass Romantic and she truly lunges them into the stratosphere). For an album and a band that were put together in such a slapdash fashion, Mass Romantic proved to be the beginning of one of the best musical catalogues of the decade.
“The Body Says No”
24. Bonnie “Prince” Billy Lie Down In The Light (2008)
Will Oldham’s musical output is so vast, frequent and consistent that it has become a curse of sorts. Oldham releases roughly 50 albums per year and most of them are overlooked, with listeners knowing that there’s plenty more where that came from. Still, with his 500 or so albums released in the 2000s, Lie Down In The Light remains special. Undoubtedly, it’s Oldham’s most tuneful, energetic and winsome release under his Bonnie “Prince” Billy moniker. It could also arguably be his best (honestly, the argument could be made). Nowhere else has Oldham’s music sounded this at ease and energetic. From the jovial solo trade-off on “Easy Does It” to the slippery slide guitar on “Where Is The Puzzle?” Lie Down In The Light gives as much credence to the skill and excellence of individual musicians as it does to Oldham’s southern gothic tales. It’s still Oldham’s album, however, and he is in top form here, singing better than ever and writing heartwarming songs that stand as his finest. It’s a jaunty, homespun album that doesn’t sacrifice any of Oldham’s peccadilloes, celebrating the span of life’s little charms: family, friends, faith and fellatio.
“So Everyone”
23. Deerhoof Friend Opportunity (2007)
I’ll be honest, had I been tallying this list based on some kind of point system, Friend Opportunity wouldn’t be anywhere as high as it is. At the very least it wouldn’t be sitting four spots higher than The Runners Four. At less than half the songs as its predecessor (and with the exception of the languid, formless 12-minute jam, “Look Away,” none of the songs run any longer), Friend Opportunity looks like a minor work. Add to that the fact that some of the songs really don’t work at all and it even surprises me a bit that this album landed so high on this list. But then I have to remind myself, the 80 or so per cent of Friend Opportunity that does work just so happens to be the best 80 per cent that any band released this decade. Deerhoof were always a band with a penchant for fractured art-pop with a foot planted in both overly cutesy twee and abrasive avant-rock. With each release, the band edged toward something resembling accessibility (but, of course, not quite). Each album was a little fuller, a little less grating and a little more refined. Friend Opportunity catches Deerhoof at their most powerful, accessible and confidant. “The Perfect Me,” “+81,” “Believe E.S.P.” and “Matchbook Seeks Maniac” are literally perfect, albeit disjointed, rock songs, with hugely busy drums, careening guitars and an irreverence that adds a giddy wink and an aggressive arm punch to the proceedings. Other songs like “The Galaxist” and “Choco Fight” stretch out their legs a bit more, but satisfy to the same degree, if not moreso. That the gratingly precious “Kidz Are So Small” and the aforementioned “Look Away” kill some of the momentum may be a matter of necessity. First, if this album could have sustained its ridiculous level through 10 tracks I may have had a coronary. Second, the two bum tracks serve a purpose in compartmentalizing all of Deerhoof’s most annoying traits (but traits still essential to the band’s basic DNA) so that the rest of the songs could flourish unimpeded. So yes, Friend Opportunity is, to me, more than the sum of its parts, but no other band this last decade was able to match Deerhoof part for part.
“The Galaxist”
22. Torche Meanderthal (2008)
Torche are a contradictory metal band. They play in sludgy, sub-Drop-D tones, but their songs are almost all in major keys. They utilize soaring lead lines, but they’re far from technical showpieces. They’re often described as doom metal, but their songs are unequivocally joyous and triumphant. They come out of a metal/post-rock background that points to Earth, Isis and even Mogwai, but their songs sound a lot more like Foo Fighters’ “My Hero.”
Whatever Torche is doing and whatever metal trends they may be bucking, it works. I’ve said it before a couple times, but Meanderthal, Torche’s breakthrough album, sounds like it could soundtrack a most awesome superhero movie. That may be true, but on more frequent listens (and you will want to listen again and again), Meanderthal sounds like it was made by superheroes, for superheroes. The chaotic blasts of “Triumph of Venus” and “Little Champion”; the hook infused grandiosity of “Healer” and “Across The Shields”; the epic destruction of “Amnesian” and the title track – yeah, that’s superhero music. Book it – listening to Meanderthal will give you superpowers.
“Across The Shields”
21. Les Savy Fav Let’s Stay Friends (2007)
Let’s Stay Friends opens with “Pots & Pans,” an almost totally autobiographical account of the insecurity and endurance it takes to be in a band that simply isn’t for everybody (“They made this noise / that people couldn’t stand”). You get a sense that Les Savy Fav know they’re an acquired taste (albeit one that knows how to rock out like nothing else) and know that being in a strange and scary rock band can seems fruitless. But “Pots & Pans” also gets to the heart of Les Savy Fav’s enduring appeal when singer Tim Harrington cuts through the shit and gives us the reason why being in a jagged and jaded band is so important to us all: “Have you been made dense / By polish and pretense? / This is where it stops / And this is where it ends / Let’s tear this whole place down / And build it up again.” It’s an uplifting and affirming sentiment and one that rings true to anybody who started a band because they wanted to discover what kind of unholy racket they could make. Then, amid rumors of the band’s breakup after years of relative inactivity, Harrington gets to the moving conclusion: “This band’s a beating heart / And it’s nowhere near its end.” For a band that can be so cheeky and aggressive, it’s a legitimately sincere and stirring moment. Of course, the next song’s about fucking a horse, so…
Often considered a band that couldn’t quite realize their potential on a full-length (I beg to differ; while their best work before Let’s Stay Friends was an EP and a singles compilation, 1999’s The Cat And The Cobra is pretty great), Let’s Stay Friends puts an exclamatory end to that. Now in the full-time role as post-punk elder statesmen, Les Savy Fav manage to sound youthful, vibrant and endlessly unpredictable. Let’s Stay Friends sees the band running the gambit, from shrieking, intimidating rockers (“The Equestrian”) to mind-melting dance rock (“Patty Lee”) to something of a laid-back sing-a-long (“Comes & Goes”). It’s a cocksure and almost effortless record by a band that many people had been running the risk of forgetting about. Don’t let it ever happen again.
”Kiss Kiss Is Getting Old”
July 2nd, 2010 at 10:19 pm
Holy crap, Carson, you know music and you write well. I’ll definitely dive into the albums I missed here.