The Top 100 Albums of the 2000s (20-11)
20. Raekwon Only Built For Cuban Linx…Pt II (2009)
“Fuck saving hip hop, we’re bringing the streets back,” says Jadakiss on “Broken Safety.” In spite of all the immensely quotable lines on this highly anticipated sequel, this would have to be the most telling. Miles from hip hop’s mainstream and totally sonically removed from anyone with a fighting chance to crossover lies Only Built For Cuban Linx…Pt II, an album that many didn’t think would exist and many feared would tarnish its predecessor’s name. Raekwon clearly has no intention of playing ball with the big boys (unlike his Wu-Tang partner-in-crime Ghostface’s solo albums, there is nary an attempt at crossover success to be found here), instead he is just doing what he does better than anyone else has ever done: crafting gritty, gripping crime narratives and shining a harsh light on the dope game. Listening to OB4CL2 would be the sonic equivalent of watching the entire series of The Wire if Ghostface didn’t refute that on “Mean Streets.” OB4CL2 captures every detailed facet of the game, from the devastating (“Cold Outside”) to the hilarious (Ghostface’s nasty sexcapades on “Gihad,” the “You want some of these donuts?” from “Penitentiary”). Raekwon is totally on top of his game, but the guest spots more than step up as well. Wu affiliates Masta Killa, Cappadonna, GZA, RZA and especially Inspectah Deck all spit amazingly hard rhymes all over the album, but it’s Method Man and Ghostface who steal the show. Method Man’s performances are so powerful that it’s easy to overestimate his presence on the album (he only appears twice, but the two appearances stand as the album’s best moments), while Ghostface, ying to Rae’s yang, sounds more amped and unstoppable than ever. At 22 tracks, it’s not surprising that the album gets a bit long (those Dre tracks must have been so expensive Rae couldn’t afford not to use them), but OB4CL2 proves that there is still plenty of life left in the Wu-Tang world. Hip hop may never be saved, but the streets haven’t sounded this riveting since…well, Cuban Linx I, I guess.
“New Wu”
19. The Darkness Permission To Land (2003)
I know, I know. Credibility gone, right? But just hear me out for a second. Imagine a band came along that had all the pomp and flair of Queen, Sparks and Dexy’s Midnight Runner, the muscular rock capabilities of AC/DC, Judas Priest and Led Zeppelin, and the power pop craftsmanship of Cheap Trick, Thin Lizzy and even a little Van Halen. Sounds pretty awesome, right? Well it was. And it was called The Darkness. People scoff at The Darkness as being a joke band, a novelty act and musical prank, but honest to God, Permission To Land needs to be taken seriously. Well, mostly serious. Sure, The Darkness wrote silly lyrics in a Spinal Tap vein. Sure, singer Justin Hawkins’ nut-crushing falsetto is not exactly an instrument of the utmost gravity. And sure the band dressed like a bad Nazareth cover band. It’s clear that this band operated with their tongues aggressively planted into their cheek, but the performances and the songs on this record are way too good to write off in any fashion. Did anyone ever this decade write a song as immediately winning as “I Believe In A Thing Called Love”? Did any rock act ever play with the double entendre as hilariously and effectively as The Darkness do on “Growing On Me” and “Holding My Own”? Did anyone pen a drug anthem as giddily addictive as “Givin’ Up?” Did any other singer go for it so hard on his first album that his voice was already too shot for album No. 2?” No, no, no and no. Permission To Land is funny, but it’s no joke. More than just goofing on classic rock and hair metal, Permission To Land documents a band that can string together a multitude of hooks better than pretty much everybody. Write it off if you must, but you’ll be missing out on the most fun album of the decade.
“I Believe In A Thing Called Love”
18. The Shins Chutes Too Narrow (2003)
Packed to the brim with breezy, tirelessly catchy melodies and an emotional range of sound that jumps from giddy euphoria to melancholy sadness with the greatest of ease, Chutes Too Narrow is still at its heart a terribly cynical record. Every moment of Chutes sounds lovely and lovable, but singer James Mercer is anything but in love. In fact, Mercer’s in the mood for destruction (“I know I’ve got this side of me that / Wants to grab the yoke from the pilot / And just fly the whole mess into the sea,” he sings on “Young Pilgrims”). “Mine’s Not A High Horse” sees Mercer lashing out at a former lover, “Fighting In A Sack” has him shrugging at his relationship’s woeful fate, “Turn A Square” is a horndog’s lament and “Gone For Good” has Mercer frantically scrambling to get out of a long-term commitment. That The Shins peddle in sunny 60’s harmonies and vaguely twee folk niceties is just a ruse. While we’re happily singing along with Mercer’s perfectly phrased, but sometimes difficult-to-decipher lyrics, we’re oblivious to the fact that we’re romanticizing some fairly unromantic sentiments. That’s the Shins trick right there. Their music is cheery, fun and polite, the kind of thing that would see the band shoot to the top of the charts, get played on commercials for McDonald’s and referenced in movies, but also get their music labeled as wimpy. But there’s a sneer underneath that smile, making a band that is already pretty terrific on the surface that much more interesting. Also, something something Zach Braff.
“Gone For Good”
17. Mastodon Leviathan (2004)
Before Leviathan ravaged the metal landscape, there had never been made mention of the term “hipster metal.” Mastodon’s surprising popularity ended up becoming a point of contention as “true metal fans” derided the Atlanta foursome for not being true metal, but one for the skinny jeans and horned rims set. It’s a bullshit argument. It’s not like Mastodon’s influences stick within the agreed-upon confines of what is “hipster friendly.” Instead of going the stoner metal route of so many metal bands in the 00s, Mastodon look to the technical thrash of Metallica, the epic scope of Iron Maiden, the progressive leanings of Rush (yes, Rush) and the monster destruction of Neurosis (not to mention just a touch of southern hospitality). And for the love of God, Leviathan is a concept record based on Moby Dick!
Mastodon didn’t become the best metal band of the 00s by appealing to indie rock fans; they got there by releasing metal’s most ferocious, seasick and far-reaching 45 minutes. Taking the mind-bending technical virtuosity that defined many late-90s metalcore fans, but fully leaving the confines of punk rock’s credibility cradling arms, Mastodon crafted an album that managed to be accessibly anthemic while being musically inscrutable, crusty and blood-drenched and defiantly proggy. Metal went through a lot of important changes in the last decade and it was Mastodon – and namely Leviathan – that proved the world was ready for something strange and violent. No matter who listens to Leviathan – trucker hats ironic and unironic, alike – it can be agreed upon that Leviathan is an alarmingly powerful, pulsating work; one that ought to be hailed as a significant landmark in metal.
“Naked Burn”
16. The New Pornographers Twin Cinema (2005)
Marrying the excitable pop sensibility of Mass Romantic and the consistent wholeness of Electric Version, Twin Cinema stands as the finest work of every member of the New Pornographers – certainly no small feat. The key, it would seem, comes in better utilizing the players. Instead of pushing Neko Case’s vocals to the front of the biggest numbers, Carl Newman gets center stage on the album’s brightest, gooiest pop tracks (“Use It” and “Sing Me Spanish Techno”), while Case acts as more of a role player, adding some background oomph and taking the lead on a few slow burning siren songs (although Case and Newman play equal roles on the excellent “Star Bodies”). Oh, it’s not like Case is slumming it; it’s just that it’s now a full band showcase. Newman generously hands her the breathtaking coda on “The Bleeding Heart Show” and she gets to play the siren on the beautiful “These Are The Fables,” but drummer Kurt Dahle underhandedly steals the songs away from Case with wild man drum fills on the former and a monster beat on the latter. But even if Case no longer acts as the MVP, it’s all to the album’s benefit. Twin Cinema catches every member contributing at an equal level. Like a good Canadian supergroup, they’re socialists at heart (even Dan Bejar’s contributions – his best up to this point – are better ingrained with the rest of the album). As the album jumps from peak to peak, each member has their own chance to shine, producing an album that is more than just pop, but every bit as fun.
“The Bleeding Heart Show”
15. Stephen Malkmus Face The Truth (2005)
After his half-baked self-titled solo debut and its overcooked 2003 follow up, Pig Lib, it looked like Stephen Malkmus was going to have to be content with being a guy who couldn’t do much past the seminal band from whence he came. Then came Face The Truth, a perfect combination of his droll, sardonic early work and his prog-leaning later work (Full disclosure: my favorite Pavement album is Brighten The Corners, so I obviously don’t toe the company line on Malkmus’ output). Face The Truth is noisy and – to use an overused term re: Malkmus’ work – shambolic, but the songs are clean, witty and hummable and the jams are sure-footed and used only sparingly. It’s a late-era Malkmus album where everything tastes just right. As Malkmus showed in the 90s, when he’s on his game, there are no equals. Face The Truth points to later Pavement most of all, but people need to remember that while less celebrated, those last three Pavement records are fantastic. Seminal? No, but that’s not important. “Baby C’mon” is as satisfying a straight-up rock song as “Stereo”; “Freeze The Saints” sways with as much wistful ease as “Gold Soundz” and “Pencil” pops and buzzes with as much attitude and snark as anything on Wowee Zowee. It’s Malkmus’ inner Gentle Giant fan that starts to really make its presence known on Face The Truth, however, as “It Kills” and especially the sprawling, but never overly so “No More Shoes” see Malkmus tap into guitar god mode. Whether Malkmus is playing the slacker bard, the shiftless popster or the stoned digresser, Face The Truth never takes a wrong turn or misses a mark. People obviously miss Pavement, but Face The Truth made it a whole lot easier for us to move on.
“Mama”
14. Ted Leo + Pharmacists Shake The Sheets (2004)
Like his hero, Bruce Springsteen, most Ted Leo albums are in need of a little editing. He writes tremendous songs, but they can sometimes be a little over thought and bogged down by too many “good” ideas. That’s why Shake The Sheets stands out in Leo’s oeuvre. The quickie follow-up to his 2003 critical breakthrough, Hearts Of Oak, Shake The Sheets catches Leo at his most streamlined and urgent. And for a songwriter who can communicate urgency better than almost anyone, that proves to be a tremendous boon. Written and released during the heart of the ‘04 US presidential elections (Bush/Kerry was a pale, depressing retread of Bush/Gore), Shake The Sheets takes some topical shots and expresses some very mid-00s concerns (namely on “The One Who Got Us Out,” “Heart Problems,” “Criminal Piece,” “Better Dead Than Lead,” “Bleeding Powers” and the title track – a lot of tracks), but Leo’s topicality hardly limits the album’s appeal. Instead, Shake The Sheets feels like a classic, Reagan-era hardcore record – specific in its targets, but universal in its rage. Shake The Sheets is a wartime record, but it’s not detrimentally tied to a time, place and mindset. Leo’s emphatic and intelligent songwriting see to that. Instead, Shake The Sheets zips through one potent rock song to the next, bounding with energy, urgency and endless guitar heroics. Shake The Sheets is an angry, agitated record, but Leo’s affability and the speed in which it was created prevent it from getting bogged down in any way. Instead, the album bursts through the speakers with hope and resiliency.
“Counting Down The Hours”
13. Hot Snakes Suicide Invoice (2002)
“I like it when your eyes get big / I like the way you lurch,” leers Rick Froberg, lead singer of Hot Snakes, a band that was once dubbed the greatest side project of all time, on “XOX.” “Lurch” is an ugly word, and it’s an ugly way to move about, but when Froberg sings it, it sounds like the biggest, horniest come on you’ve ever heard. That’s Hot Snakes right there: they like it ugly and nasty, but they present it with such cocksure flair.
Hot Snakes were an incredible rock band that shined brightly and disappeared quickly in the early stages of the decade. Comprised of members of Drive Like Jehu and Rocket From The Crypt, Hot Snakes found a way to capture the bile-encrusted, apocalyptic grit of the former and the taut, swinging strut of the latter. Their three albums, and especially Suicide Invoice, were fiery and economic pieces of greased up violence that really no one has been able to match since (and they are economic – there isn’t an ounce of fat to be found on any of these songs). This kind of rock isn’t as in vogue as it maybe once was, and placing and album like this so high up on the list may seem surprising (lucky No. 13!), but Suicide Invoice is a special album, even when it’s not breaking any new ground. Hot Snakes exude sheer grit with their dry, hardened prison riffs and Froberg’s angry office worker rants. The trick with Hot Snakes, however, is that while these songs are vicious and pissy, they’re also sneakily danceable and a million times catchy. And if you’re listening close enough, you’ll hear “Why Does It Hurt,” a subtle tweak in the Hot Snakes formula toward melody and pathos. Experienced on its own, it’s as brutal as any punk, but in the context of Suicide Invoice it’s a hint that there are some feelings behind that sneer. But only some.
“Gar Forgets His Insulin”
12. Spoon Kill The Moonlight (2002)
What do you do when you’re a young band and you’ve already perfected your sound? Well, you tear it down and build it back up again. That’s what Spoon do on Kill The Moonlight, a perfectly executed exercise in reinvention through destruction. 2001’s Girls Can Tell saw this Austin group pin their sound down to a tee, producing a handful of the most timeless songs of the decade. If Spoon wanted to move forward as a band, Kill The Moonlight couldn’t simply be more of the same. It’s not. Spoon’s approach to Kill The Moonlight seems to have been less is more, writing fully fleshed out songs and then stripping them of multiple tracks until all that’s left is the song’s skeletal structure – no instrumental flourishes, no studio trickery, just a bunch of fabulous songs in their barest possible form. “Small Stakes” is upheld by nothing more than a broken organ, some tambourine flourishes and a subtle rhythmic tapping in the left ear; “Stay Don’t Go” is essentially just a human beatbox paired with an up-stroked guitar; and there only needs to be two drumsticks clicking together to buoy the rhythm for the minimalist masterpiece “Paper Tiger.” Oh sure, there are some killer piano rockers in “The Way We Get By,” “Someone Something” and “All The Pretty Girls Go To the City,” plus a straight out guitar anthem in “Jonathan Fisk,” but even those tracks remain unadorned by anything superfluous. What amazes is how the songs on Kill The Moonlight are actually elevated by their minimal structure. Britt Daniel is still the same great songwriter as he was dating back to the band’s earliest work and Kill The Moonlight is proof that a great song can go a long way on its own strength. With Kill The Moonlight, Spoon were able to prove that establishing a conceptual construct for an album isn’t limiting, it’s limitless.
“Paper Tiger”
11. Les Savy Fav Inches (2004)
Like an art punk Singles Going Steady, Inches is a compilation more than an album. At the beginning of their career, the members of Les Savy Fav decided to start releasing a series of 7” singles – two songs per release – until they had enough small releases to justify one big career defining anthology. After nine separate releases, Les Savy Fav released this collection, a greatest hits of sorts - although one where only the most die-hard of die-hard fans had heard any of the releases. Normally, the concept of a “singles” record wouldn’t be one to fit the requirements of this list, but Inches finds a way to turn its disparate parts into an almost unparalleled unified whole. Played in reverse chronological order, Inches accidentally-on-purpose contains a narrative arc. From the muscular and fluid opening moments of “Meet Me In The Dollar Bin” to the raw and ragged early work of “Rodeo,” Inches’ tracklisting details Les Savy Fav’s timeline from their totally keyed-in mid-00s incarnation to their early, more straight-up punk roots. It’s almost like you’re witnessing a band become unglued in front of your very eyes (or ears). But even as the sheen and the T-1000-like liquid menace begin to wear away, the essential Les Savy Fav DNA strand remains. As Tim Harrington sings, “We got old, but we got good.” It’s true, the band did get incredibly good, but early-career tracks like “Blackouts On Thursday” and “Our Coastal Hymn” show that they were already working on a higher level at the outset (listening to Inches in chronological order would show a band that certainly got “good” but also incredibly cynical towards the music industry, as titles like “Meet Me In The Dollar Bin,” “Hold On To You Genre” and “Yawn Yawn Yawn” would suggest). Inches covers a lot of ground, but then again so have Les Savy Fav over the course of their career. Never a band to settle on a sound for too long, Les Savy Fav have changed shape, altered focus and grown leaner over the years. Inches is the soundtrack of an exceptional band returning to their roots, proving that every era, every moment, ever song along the way was absolutely essential.
“The Sweat Descends”