Year-End Bullshit: Top 25 Albums of the Year

So it took me a while to finally post this one, and as much as I look forward to the year-end bullshit and critics' list, I'm sort of glad it's over, so I can get back to writing about Ron Howard and "The Wire". Tough list to compile, and I want to give honorable mention honors to the Beirut, El-P, Ghostface Killah, and Andrew Bird albums. 2007 was definitely a great year for music, if perhaps the worst year for rap music ever. Enjoy, feel free to comment.

25. Parts &Labor - "Mapmaker"

A fast, loud album that has the class to avoid being a messy heap of noise. The songs on "Mapmaker" are a hell of a lot of fun, and are far more subtle than they have any business being.

24. Roisin Murphy - "Overpowered"

Murphy makes a superb disco disc with the raucous beats to match her personality. It's definitely a frontloaded album, but goddamn, those first four songs are pretty unstoppable.

23. Justice - "Cross"

Took a while for me to get into this one, but it really is a top-notch dance album. It's got holes, but they're mostly due to overambitiousness; when Justice connects, though, they hit it out of the park.

22. Animal Collective - "Strawberry Jam"

An album that's maddeningly inconsistent; how the hell can you follow "Fireworks" with "#1"?? Still, there are too many fantastic tracks here to brush aside. The fact that they're evolving with each disc is admirable, and it's clear that they have the capabilities of bringing everything together for an undisputed classic.

21. Feist - "The Reminder"

An unbelievably alive album from an artist I once pegged as vanilla. The singles are still its strength, but there's really not a bum track to be found on Feist's coming-out party. As earnest as records get.

20. Fall Out Boy - "Infinity On High"

I wish I could be honest and say that I approach every album I hear objectively, I really could, but personal taste and prearranged discriminations inevitably bleed through. Admitting that "Infinity on High" is a great record was a tiring one, but necessary; I gritted my teeth, tried to stay as open-minded as I possibly could for a whiny-voiced album backed by Jay-Z, and just listened to it. If not for my damning snobbery, it would be higher on this list. Even people who hate the genre more than me have to appreciate the skill with which Pete Wentz slings hooks like the coldest of dealers, and the sheer R&B white dynamite of Patrick Stump's quivering voice. Simply put, it's a fantastic album that exposes these bastards as legitimate. Stop throwing stones at the crown, motherfuckers, and bow down.

19. Les Savy Fav - "Let's Stay Friends"

Another example of a band with immense talent deciding to stop goofing off, buckle down, and try their darndest to make a classic. "Let's Stay Friends" is a gem of a punk album, as unexpected as it is unexpectedly charming (yeah... that makes sense...)

18. Nina Nastasia & Jim White - "You Follow Me"

A collaboration album, I guess, but all of White's noodling around on his drums can't equal the performance Nastasia gives on every single song, raw emotion leaking out of her words. Best lyrics of the year, maybe. I'd also like to point out that, if any VH1-approved female singer with a well-regarded back catalogue (I'm lookin at you, Sheryl Crow!) made this album, it would win 9 Grammys.

17. The Arcade Fire - "Neon Bible"

Probably the best-case scenario for the Arcade Fire after "Funeral", "Neon Bible" is a powerhouse that does not always connect. It's still arguably the most ambitious album of the year, and a good share of these tracks - "Keep The Car Running", "No Cars Go", "Intervention" - establish these guys as unflappably good.

16. Tunng - "Good Arrows"

An album that almost all critics slept on, and for good reason. "Good Arrows" is a weird, difficult album, but not in the way you'd expect: the arrangements are challenging, the sequencing a little off, and the lyrics are terribly morose. It's a good thing that every song here is slowly, subtly mind-blowing, then. It may take a few listens to unravel, but its warm center is worth discovering, however patient you need be.

15. Battles - "Mirrored"

In essence, Animal Collective got beat by a band that outweirded them. It may be because AC is trying to become more accessible, but the fact that "Mirrored" is a force of nature should not be overlooked. Whether snorting entire rooms on "Ddiamondd" or grooving the fuck out on "Leyendecker", Battles captured a niche that seemed like it didn't need filling until 2032, when robots start recording prog albums.

14. Iron & Wine - "The Shepherd's Dog"

When will Sam Beam stop destroying my underestimations and come out with a collection of poorly conceived songs? That's right, he won't, because he knows his shit, because he has fleshed out his sound but not in a way that's distracting, because he's got the voice to match his gothic songwriting, because he's diligent enough to make sure every song on his albums is strong. EVERY song.

13. Kanye West - "Graduation"

When will Kanye get some respect? I mean, after "Graduation" becomes remembered as "the one after 'Late Registration', where Kanye beefed with 50", will anyone take the time to acknowledge how BRAVE of a release this is? For Kanye West, one of the most effervescent hip-hop artists around, to (mostly) drop the soul samples, rely on big synths, and to make a song as out-of-left-field as "Drunk and Hot Girls" -- and to do these things successfully -- is staggering. This is some left-brain semantics, and further proof that Yeezy's genius is bonified.

12. Panda Bear - "Person Pitch"

Gorgeous from front to back, "Person Pitch" is the apotheosis of the introverted "Young Prayer" and lacks the cynical underbelly of some of Animal Collective's work. Noah Lennox sounds like he's singing in the middle of a cloud, with "Bros." and "Ponytail" representing an amalgamation of everything positive in the world right now. As fun and wacky as the album cover.

11. Patrick Wolf - "The Magic Position"

Music this happy usually comes with a healthy dose of irony or from Gloria Estefan, but P-Wolf is all smiles here, and surprise, glowing cheeks are a suitable shade of rouge for the moptop. The pop songs are unadulterated gay joy, but Wolf really sinks his teeth into the ballads, which are impressive while never taking themselves too seriously. May fade over time, but "Magic Position" is perfect for here and now.

10. Burial - "Untrue"

This album will bulldoze you and cut out your heart. It is composed of darkness and voices that cut through it like slow-motion beams of yellow light. It is made from a man without an identity, and it sounds like it. It is impossible to dance to, but feels like it belongs in a club infested with people dancing to forget their complex, disturbing problems. There is so much distortion that nothing sounds human. It is brilliant.

9. Frog Eyes - "Tears of the Valedictorian"

For a collection of songs that exhibit endless energy and unpolished vocals, it's a hard to imagine how long it must have taken Frog Eyes to compose this album. That's because each track -- and especially its two towering bookends, "Caravan Breakers, They Prey on the Weak and the Old" and "Bushels" -- is so intricate that you have to notice the effort being exalted. Simply put, Frog Eyes is on fire during the entire length of this album; maybe it's because the guitar and drum work is obnoxiously good, or because Carey Mercer sounds like he's literally burning on some songs, but God, this band is unstoppable here.

8. Of Montreal - "Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?"

Kevin Barnes seems like a complete dick, and I'm basing this on the way he seems like a complete dick during Of Montreal's live shows. Their performance at Pitchfork Music Festival led me into a fit of frustation: "Why don't they just PLAY the songs?" I asked my equally annoyed friend, watching from afar as the band passed ladle-fuls of fake blood from a big-headed gold monster into the audience. But the thing is, I was so aggravated because the songs they were playing during these shenanigans, the material being so clearly overshadowed on the live show, were the best of the band's career, and among the best of the year. A breakup record hidden under a rhinestone mask, "Hissing Fauna" is going to stand the test of time on record, even if it's disguised by gimmicks in person.

7. Menomena - "Friend and Foe"

I could write a lot of words about Menomena, about how they make superb music and how they are one of the most underrated bands in America and how their album artwork kicks ass, blah blah blah. It's pointless, I tell you. Menomena albums are not meant to be discussed, they are meant to be listened to, because every song is so simple and contains just majestic trinkets that you wanna make sure no one else has thought of such obvious ideas before. From the piano line of "Muscle'n Flo" to the opening line "What if all my enemies were dead?" to "My My", there are too many small wonders here to dissect with words. You just have to listen to it, preferably with a trusty friend, so you can lean back at particular points and exclaim, "That was awesome." It was, man. It was.

6. Radiohead - "In Rainbows"

And our heroes decided to create an album that is at once accessible and not one bit self-absorbed or demanding of their quest for perfection. These songs are not perfect, but "Hail to the Thief" effectively ended that desire by being a bit too drawn-out and pretentious. Radiohead has already mastered the universe, I guess, so the fact that "In Rainbows" is just a really solid rock album should not only be accepted, it should be recognized as an achievement that hasn't been seen since "The Bends". There aren't any "Idioteque"s here, but you just can't beat the pristine beauty of "Nude", the shimmy of "House of Cards", and the entirety of "Jigsaw Falling Into Place", not when they come from a group as admittedly smart as Radiohead. They could make eleven more albums of this caliber and I'd be a satisfied fan.

5. Deerhoof - "Friend Opportunity"

Fuck, man, "Friend Opportunity" is just a GREAT album. Excuse me while I gush about it, because, you see, Deerhoof makes me sounds like a snivelling idiot, that's how much their music grabs hold of the 12-year-old rawk fan inside of me and stunts my use of adjectives. And "Friend Opportunity" is their BEST album, by far, because they've brought together the tightness of "Reveille" and "Apple O'" and the songwriting of "The Runners Four" to make, ya know, really tight music. First three songs are fucking amazing, this is indisputable to me. "The Galaxist" and "Whither the Invisible Birds", the two slow-ish (for Deerhoof) songs, are completely gorgeous; again, indisputable. And the last four songs really stress the whole themes of loneliness and acceptance that run through the whole album. "Matchbook Seeks Maniac" = career highlight! In conclusion, Deerhoof destroys every band around it, and "Friend Opportunity" is the album their career has always been leading up to. Yeah!

4. Lil' Wayne - "Da Drought 3"

How can Lil' Wayne release something like this, a stone-cold classic, and it still feels like it's just a preview of his masterpiece? Maybe "Tha Carter III" won't be the pinnacle of Weezy's career (smart money says that it will be), but for now, be satisfied with the best mixtape since "We Got It For Cheap Vol. 2", and the best display of rapping since "Purple Haze". It's official, Lil' Wayne is the king of one-liners that would take me and you 8 years to think of, but that he conjures up in the midst of a single drug-fueled freestyle: "I'm so motherfucking high, I could eat a star," "It's a bakery here, just tryin' to get dough!", "I'm the man in this bitch/They say money talks, well... I'm the ventriloquist," etc., etc., etc. It's eerily frustrating to know that I could study literature in college for another decade, write three novels, and study the dictionary, but I will NEVER master the English language and its dynamics like Weezy F. Baby does. 2007: the year of Lil' Wayne, always and forever.

3. The National - "Boxer"

I've always wondered what the guys of The National thought when they heard "Boxer" straight through for the first time. Did they just think that it was a follow-up to "Alligator" to be very proud of? Or did they have any inkling that they had just recorded a classic record, wholly original and precise in the way it captures the uneasiness of an entire generation fumbling its way through relationships and lives that they're dissatisfied with for some unclear reason? I mean, they would have been as arrogant as all hell if they had immediately thought the latter, but they would have been correct. And the most surprising thing is that they probably could have deduced it after one good listen, as I assume so many have done. "Boxer" crafts another world for its characters to exist in, but the environment sinks in so snugly because of its details: general tales of wanting more are piqued by images of regrettable parties, out-of-touch friends, and thinking about too much about your dick. The drums ground the affair in reality, and you realize that the portrait The National has painted here encompasses everyone in our awkward society. Yeah, I think they knew that when they first heard it.

2. Bon Iver - "For Emma, Forever Ago"

I knew I loved "For Emma, Forever Ago" from the first time I heard it, but I don't think I knew how much I loved it until I heard its last song, "Re: Stacks", in its entirety. I was walking through a few inches of snow on my way back from class, and it popped up on shuffle on my i-pod. Walking alone, with only the music to focus on, I realized how utterly hopeless the song was. It made me want to curl up into a ball and rock back and forth. But, of course, this was not a bad thing; "For Emma, Forever Ago" is an album about memory, about scars, and it is as cathartic as it is hypnotic. And as sad as "Re: Stacks" is, it is one of the most personal, moving songs I have ever had the good fortune to stumble upon. Like the rest of the album, it requires a patient ear, not because it is a difficult record to traipse through, but because you might miss some of its best parts if you blink. On "Re: Stacks", for instance, the way Justin Vernon enunciates the line "That has brought me to this loss", is a shattering display of power. In the end, though, "For Emma, Forever Ago" ends with the line "Your love will be safe with me", mirroring the way in which nearly anyone who gives this obscure disc a chance will eventually grow to cherish it. Bon Iver is the reason I listen to music.

1. Spoon - "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga"

I'm sitting here, just one more blurb to write, and this album seems to be the one I find most difficult to find words for. For the last six months or so, I have been a mascot for this album. I have talked to friends about how "Rhythm & Soul" is a literally perfect song, to my dad about how "The Ghost Of You Lingers" really is a great single, to everyone who has ever approached my soapbox about how "The Underdog" is gonna blow up on the radio and make Spoon the next Modest Mouse. I guess I was wrong about that last one (Feist had already won the mass appeal for the year, I suppose), but it's never a regrettable thing when The Best Band In the World releases their Best Album, even if it's not the great public unifier that it should be. So what can I say about "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga" that I haven't already expressed a dozen times over? I'm not going to talk about how every song is practically flawless, about how I want to scream like a schoolgirl when the music drops out in the middle of "Cherry Bomb", about how "Black Like Me" could not end the album on a more confident note. All I will say is that Spoon, through this album and their jaw-dropping back catalogue, have just made me have a better year. I latched onto this band this year before "Ga" came out, discovering the remarkable quality of "Gimme Fiction" and "Girls Can Tell", and when their new one was released, it manhandled even my highest expectations. They're just a bunch of guys who know their shit, who aren't afraid to try new things and strip themselves of gimmicks, all while staying true to their fundamental sound. They're just a fantastic band (the best right now, in my opinion), and "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga" is their greatest achievement. Thanks, Spoon.

Year-End Bullshit: Top 25 Songs of the Year

All right, let's get down to it. 2007: the year of the 7+ minute song...?

25. The Arcade Fire - "Keep the Car Running"

I can understand if someone stopped caring about the Arcade Fire when they got all Bruce Springsteen-y this year, but they nailed the "Dancer in the Dark" vibe with this one. The obvious highlight from "Neon Bible".

24. Kelly Clarkson - "Never Again"

Ridiculously underrated single; look, you can bitch that it doesn't stack up against "Since U Been Gone", but most songs don't. "Never Again" is a worthy sequel; give props to that operatic bridge, please.

23. Bone Thugs N Harmony ft. Akon - "I Tried"

Another great Bone Thugs single with Akon finally understanding what it means to be understated. That piano intro, that line "I'm havin' a hard time... stayin' on track, man"... we all need more Bone Thugs in our lives.

22. Los Campesinos! - "You! Me! Dancing!"

Not the best song ever, but a damn fun one. In a year where Architecture in Helsinki sucked as a whole, Los Campesinos! filled the niche well.

21. Justice - "D.A.N.C.E."

A lot of people have said a lot of things about this song, but the thing that always makes me gravitate toward it is how unashamedly good-natured it is. Not a hint of malice on this dance floor, ladies and gents.

20. Fall Out Boy - "Thnks Fr The Mmrs"

The sound of a band becoming masters of their own domain? Maybe. Punk-ass video aside, this single is the sound of FOB executing everything well, and making the hard-earned seem effortless.

19. UGK - "International Player's Anthem (I Choose You)"

Hip-hop in "classic" mode, but maybe it feels so retro just because it blows the rest of commercial radio-rap (MIMS, Souljah Boy) the fuck away. At least Pimp C bestowed this upon the world before leaving it.

18. Lil Mama - "Lip Gloss"

Proof of the theory that, if you've got some explosive percussion, a female snarl, and conviction to whatever you're rambling about, you can make ANYTHING sound cool. ...Watchu know bout me?

17. Feist - "1,2,3,4"

Like "Float On" and "Crazy", a crossover hit that absolutely deserved it. Unstoppable chorus + illogical counting = boat load of fun; wonder when Feist will fade back into obscurity!

16. Kanye West - "Can't Tell Me Nothing"

A definite grower, this song works much better as a "Graduation" album track than a single, probably because it's so brooding and narcissistic. But that's Kanye, in all his insecure glory. Brutal honesty.

15. Burial - "Archangel"

It's a ghost of a song, really. Distorted vocals and barely-there beats make great singles nowadays? But this is both disturbingly personal and vaguely anonymous at the same time, and captures everything great about "Untrue". "Tell me I belong," indeed.

14. Spoon - "You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb"

Motown now consists of a skinny white boy gyrating and spitting out words in a sandpaper voice. That's okay. All swagger and cola fizz, Britt Daniel and co. basically master an entirely different genre of music in a tad over three minutes.

13. Jay-Z - "Roc Boys (And the Winner Is...)"

No, "American Gangster" is still overrated and a conceptual mess, but this is Hov's best banger since maybe "The Blueprint" era. The horns are admittedly tremendous, but it works because Jay spits fire and makes a case that he's still relevant.

12. The National - "Brainy"

"Boxer"'s most near-perfect song is a (surprise!) muted one, with gentle woodwinds hidden by hair-trigger drumming. It's like a lot of other songs on the album, but here, everything comes together in a combination so sleek and modest you'll be shocked how much you love it.

11. Rilo Kiley - "Silver Lining"

There is nothing overly special about "Silver Lining": instrumentation's kinda plain, and Jenny Lewis' vocals and lyrics are unremarkable. Good thing the track's got hooks out the wazoo. It's just a well-written single, really, and wrings every last drop of excitement out of a time-worn arrangement.

10. LCD Soundsystem - "All My Friends"

It's always difficult for me to give props to James Murphy. The guy makes self-effacing, conceited music, and although this is not his tortured masterpiece, it comes damn close. The piano hook somehow becomes more thrilling through repetition, and the lyrics try to cut to the bone, and mostly succeed. I don't think it will hold up as well as everybody else does, but right now it's pulse-racing.

9. Spoon - "Don't You Evah"

Every inch of this song bleeds calculated joy. The wah-wah guitar solo, the snap-pop cymbals, the handclaps -- dear God, those fucking handclaps -- and Britt Daniel's boxstep voice, which pierces so many sound bytes that it eventually circles back on itself. To suggest a minor alteration to the song is to pull at a thread that could unravel its very fabric; it's like a theorem you couldn't disprove if you wanted to.

8. Battles - "Atlas"

I don't feel capable of handling this song. No. Analyzing "Atlas" is not meant to be easy, because much of its effect is meant to be unspoken. The drive of this song is primal; it beats down upon you, grinding you with proggy delight until you have to just shut the fuck up and groove. The fact that the lyrics are a goopy, chipmunk-y mess is irrelevant; this stuff is too soul-shattering for the brain to process.

7. Animal Collective - "Fireworks"

If "Strawberry Jam" finds AC at their most accessible (but still weird), "Fireworks" is their most emotionally coherent song to date. Avey Tare's usually obtuse songwriting buckles down and goes straight toward the heartstrings, and luckily, he's got the explosive arrangements to double its effect. Animal Collective is an inconsistent band, but this proves that they can be the Decade's Best Band, like so many believe them to be.

6. DJ Khaled featuring Everyone, "We Takin' Over"

The best hip-hop summit since "Slow Jamz", this rap wrecking crew was relentless in declaring its no-bullshit mission statement. Face it, hip-hop is becoming devoid of stars, and this joint effort is impressive if only for the assurance injected into every word. Yeah, Weezy became a hero, but that was a foregone conclusion. Simply put, if these 6 dudes DID take over, and MIMS was eliminated forever, I'd be okay with that.

5. The Twilight Sad - "Cold Days From the Birdhouse"

I want U2, or a band like U2 (I only said U2 because of the accent), a band that's been around forever and still commands dinosaur-packed arenas, to write an anthem with as much intensity and craftsmanship as this. A band like The Twilight Sad -- and I admit, I'm not a big fan of their album -- wastes this song playing in front of 100 people; this is meant for grander scales. Huge clobber follows soothing passage like it's no big deal, if only because the atmosphere's as big as a blimp before a single cymbal crashes. The Twilight Sad need to get huge, if only so this song can be played in front of thousands, where it belongs to be heard.

4. R. Kelly - "I'm A Flirt (Remix)"

And this year, a long-assumed quality was confirmed to be truth: R. Kelly is made of butter. His sole purpose in the world of music (supposedly) is to try to make a single hott enough that, by association with it, he will melt. "I'm A Flirt (Remix)" is so hott that, by the time Robert confirms himself to be a "a dog on the prowl", T.I. looks pretty and slings some relationship advice, T-Pain orgasms in vocoder, and R. comes back with some "IT'S.... THE... REEEE-MIX!" shit... oh look, R. Kelly has become a puddle on the floor, a calorie-loaded liquid that's optimal for pouring over popcorn or naked ladies. You can lock this man up, but he'd be too slippery anyway.

3. Fall Out Boy - "The Take Over, The Break's Over"

As we are undoubtedly in the middle of the nasal-voiced rock era, it's tricky to define something as legitimately good, instead of good when compared to the other dreck in its genre. Fall Out Boy proved themselves the former this year, thanks in no small part to this song, which can only be described as a magnificently produced pop song. This is the grace of heaven a band like this should not have in them: split-second vocal overlaps, bouncing guitars, barely noticeable piano twinkles, claps that might as well be boxing punches to the gut. The ringleader is Patrick Stump, tortured bastard, warbling nonsense lyrics and keeping the rest of his competitors in a whiny headlock. Dudes are for real.

2. Lil Wayne - "Back On My Grizzy"

The mere notion that Lil Wayne would bury a song that resembles actual flames in the middle of disc 2 of his mammoth mixtape suggests two distinct things: 1. he doesn't give a fuck about sequencing, because it's a MIXTAPE, and 2. Weezy captures fire in the studio so frequently that he can afford to spread that shit throughout 29 tracks. It's comparable to the rest of his output, of course, but "Back On My Grizzy" is the most crystallized illustration of Lil Wayne absolutely SLAYING shit: the beat, the art of freestyling, his competitors, an entire genre of music, etc. The three separate crescendoes are ineffable beauty, both slowing words down to bullet-time and speeding up the mind until it simply cannot handle a flow this filthy. It's the song that convinced me to give Weezy F. Baby the crown.

1. Frog Eyes - "Bushels"

A lot of the songs on this list are better-made songs than "Bushels", probably. Bands like Spoon and Battles operate on meticulousness, and rely on deliberate timing and expected shifts to weave their stories. Frog Eyes, for better or worse, do not do any of these things, and seem to operate instead on the last batch of adrenaline in Carey Mercer's writhing body. "Bushels" is not an nifty little sugar rush, but a rickety roller coaster ride, where the car can fall off the tracks at any given loops. There are breakdowns, build-ups, whispers that become shouts, phrases repeated endless times, and instruments that rough up the song like big bullies with jagged teeth; it's exhausting stuff, really. It's also the most emotional, honest music I have heard all year. When the line "When am I ever gonna feel the sting of your sun?" staggers out of Mercer's mouth, statues could be expected to crumble into weeping messes. When the chorus of ghosts return, the music races back, and Mercer goes batshit over the word "home", it's like the solution to every problem in the world has been found. It's about a band laying everything out on the table, squeezing every drop of themselves into nine minutes and thirteen seconds. They succeed.

Year-End Bullshit: Top 10 Albums That I Discovered This Year

It's the day after Christmas, and I STILL haven't really gotten into the meat of my year-end lists? It's been a tough couple weeks for me, finishing finals at school, jumping back into work when I got home, getting sick and currently being bed-ridden. Fuck. And I guess the realization that nobody really cares about this blog except me and the three or four friends of mine I bug to read it is always lingering. We get enough year-end bullshit during this month, and what difference does my opinion bring to the table?

But may that's missing the overarching point of why I enjoy writing this blog, and why I enjoy writing about movies/music/pop culture in general. It's mine. I may be shouting into the abyss, but you never know how many people out there may, for some reason, overhear a single shard of my voice. And even if they don't, at least I've thoughtfully composed some musings about the pieces of art that move me, or provoke some sort of reaction within me, whether it's unabashed love or bitter hate or mild indifference. I can look at what I've written in the past and be okay that I've put something out there, just for the hell of it, for no reason other than the fact that I love writing and I love music/movies and I love combining them in a format that's this off-the-cuff.

So paradoxically, this list is completely meaningless, but it means a lot to me. I'm still discovering albums from the past that millions of people already cherish, and I still haven't even really grazed the the discographies of, say, Pavement and The Smiths and New Order and the Talking Heads, which even more people worship. Maybe I'll come to love these bands one day, during one year, and maybe I won't. But in 2007 I stumbled upon a lot of rich material, and most of it shaped the way I view music. Even if this list is compiled completely for personal reasons and you don't feel like reading it, fuck it, this is a blog. To anyone who continues reading and has been touched by these albums in a similar way: enjoy.

10. Spiritualized - "Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space" (1997)

I've listened to this album a lot, and there have been times where I have really gotten into its warped flow, and other times where I've found it long, pretentious, and even a little arrogant. But whenever I listen to it, I can't help but admit how unbelievably brave it is. Jason Pierce and his posse have a lock on the scope they have for this project, and it is larger-than-life, to put it modestly. It's a space album that tries to break the barrier between emptiness of what's beyond the clouds and the promise of what God should be. It's got harmonica solos, call-and-response choruses, and "Come Together", an almost criminally thrilling track. I really had no idea what to expect when I first heard this, and by this point I still don't have the best grip on the material. All I know is that, when people refer to this as a masterpiece, I can raise my glass high and say, "Yeah, you might be right".

9. Booka Shade - "Movements" (2006)

It's difficult for me to name all of the albums from last year I discovered during 2007 that did not make my year-end list at the time. Discs by Asobi Seksu, Marit Larsen, and Annuals have all earned special places in my heart by now, but that "Movements" speaks to me so much more, using only a handful of words. You can keep "From Here We Go Sublime" and "Orchestra of Bubbles" and any other recent techno albums that have cut through the mainstream; "Movements" is better. Using carefully manufactured beats that exist in the dankest of corners in night clubs, these songs come alive, tell a story, explain the subtleties of the rest of the body to the ears. Perfect for walking alone on a cold night. Can't wait to see what Booka Shade throws at us next.

8. Bjork - "Post" (1995), "Homogenic" (1997)

2007 may not have been the most prosperous year for Bjork; "Volta" was admittedly disappointing, especially with the promise of Timbaland and Antony collabos. But maybe it was just a bummer for me because I was still digesting these two '90s classics from the Icelandic chanteuse. Bjork might not ever own the kind of reverie I shower upon Joanna Newsom; I got on the bandwagon pretty late, and while I can recognize how great these records are, they probably won't burrow within me as deeply as other artists on this list. Still, I'm pretty sure that: the one-two opening of "Army of Me" and "Hyper-Ballad" on "Post" is hard to match; someone should write a musical with "Joga" as the centerpiece; and "All Is Full Of Love" makes me smile, a lot.

7. Belle & Sebastian - "If You're Feeling Sinister" (1996)

Should have gotten around to this one sooner. I don't know, after listening to "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" and "The Life Pursuit" for a while, I was always a little curious/hesitant to see what made "Sinister" the group's indisputable classic. Half of me expected a complete shift from what they were making now, but surprise, everything was just a little more scaled-down and the songwriting was a lot tighter. More and more with each listen, "Sinister" seems like a very capable band simply composing ten extraordinary songs, not really mind-blowing stuff but just a lot more solid than anything around them. Do I think "If You're Feeling Sinister" is a classic? Probably not. But it is a great album full of hypnotic hooks that is very, very easy to like. I guess it was just hard for me to immerse myself in when I was digging its biological parent, for all intents and purposes, which is number 5 on this list.

6. D'Angelo - "Voodoo" (2000)

Yeah, I know, I already gushed about D when talking about "Untitled (How Does It Feel)" a few weeks ago, but I refuse to believe that this album is not still important today. I would never call myself an expert on modern R&B ( I wish I could, I really do), but this is the most crystallized version of the genre I have come across, making poppy John Legend bullshit seem immature by comparison. Every song on here -- every song -- sounds crucial and poetic and deeply personal, filled with clapping drums, slick bass, and falsetto. It is the classic that Stevie Wonder hasn't been able to produce in this musical era. Sex, grit, and sweat: man, do I treasure this album.

5. Nick Drake - "Bryter Layter" (1970)

This was one of those rare cases of me avoiding my crippling music snobbery and actually heeding a recommendation from a friend who has, oh, a fine music taste, I suppose. She was all about Nick Drake, and I had never heard of the bloke, so I proceeded to listen to "Bryter Layter" without any knowledge of his early death in the '70s and newfound cult status. I guess the fact that I had no contextual information helped me create unadulterated opinions of his music, but it's more telling that I believed this was a recently released album when I first heard it, and that Drake was still living as a little-known indie folk singer. I guess it was a bummer to hear that Drake had been dead for decades (I found this out after listening to "Bryter" for about a month), but it also revealed the music to be already as timeless as I thought it should be. There are themes of frustration and angst here, but the gentleness of Drake's voice and jazzy atmosphere keep each song accessible and shimmering with soft-spoken beauty. Astounding work. Next up for me: "Pink Moon".

4. Tom Waits - "Rain Dogs" (1985)

The first time I heard Tom Waits' voice, as it rasped out the opening line to "Singapore", I thought it was a joke. Seriously. I'm a big advocate of weird, silly voices, and will defend the pipes of Antony, Jens Lekman, and the chick from Deerhoof with equal conviction. But there was no beauty in Waits' hangdog growl, which I've compared to the singing voice of the mayor from "The Nightmare Before Christmas" on more than one occasion. It took me a listen of "Rain Dogs" in its entirety to get past the eccentric vocals and see the honesty with which each song was composed. This album throttles the environment it's trying to capture: dingy city life, filled with back alleys and busted street lamps and motel rooms no one should stay in. And there's Waits in the middle of it all, the mad hatter exorcising his demons with a half-empty bottle of bourbon in his paw. Each track is a vignette, but that doesn't mean it's all dour: I approve of any "classic" album that's got "Big Black Mariah" tearing shit up in the middle.

3. The Books - "The Lemon of Pink" (2003)
It was summer. I was listening to "The Lemon of Pink" on my ipod in the backseat of my dad's car as we drove on some main highway. My family and I was on vacation, and I was feeling physically tired after walking up and down the Atlantic City boardwalk for the better part of three hours. We were driving back to the motel we always stay at in Wildwood, and my sister was asleep, and my parents were talking about the song that was on the radio. I turned my ipod up. The song that was playing was "There Is No There", and I had already heard it a handful of times, but this was the first time I really listened to it, ya know? And it got to that part where everything disappears, and that found-sound voice starts talking about Gandhi, but I noticed that the simple beats behind it make the words seem gigantic, and truth instead of opinion. The song regains its footing, and after a couple seconds, at 1:42, the guitar started rushing toward my eardrum. I remember closing my eyes, hearing the pattern deepen and strengthen, feeling the chopped voices surround it after a few seconds. I kept my eyes closed and listened. I think that's all the Books ever wanted me to do.

2. R.E.M. - "Murmur" (1983)

The thing about "Murmur" is that it busted all of my preconceived notions of R.E.M. that had been previously based on "Losing My Religion", their godawful newest album "Around the Sun", and Michael Stipe's dancing. I heard that "Murmur" was their first CD, it was really good, and it sounded nothing like the current version of R.E.M., so I checked it out. To this day I'm not really 100% sure why, but when I first heard it, I was blown away. I thought this album was INCREDIBLE -- not to say that I dislike it now, but after a few months' worth of rust it's lost some of its lustre. For a solid month, this baby did not vacate the CD player in my car. I learned practically every word to every song, and touted songs like "Laughing" and "Sitting Still" to my friends, who couldn't seem to care less. I think what fascinated me about "Murmur" is the whole indie-before-indie aura it gave off: Stipe's vocals are inscrutable and lilting, the drum and guitar work are muted, and the melodies are knowingly fundamental. It's an internal record, sure, but it's damn fun to sing along to, and I'll pop it in every now and then to relive that month of my insane "Murmur" love.

1. Talk Talk - "Laughing Stock" (1991)

2007 will be, always and forever, the year I discovered Talk Talk, the year that "Laughing Stock" became one of my favorite albums ever. Some of my previous favorite albums: "Big Willie Style", "Significant Other", "American Idiot". Not the best track record. But I feel like I'm still going to be listening to "Laughing Stock" (...and "Big Willie Style") when I'm forty. For one, I first heard it about eight months ago, and I still listen to it ALL THE GODDAMN TIME. Like, more than an album I just bought two days ago and love wholeheartedly ("Big Doe Rehab", I'm lookin at you!) "Laughing Stock" is the closest thing to a perfect album I might have ever heard. I've listened to it so much that I can tell you that my favorite moment on the entire album comes at 1:52 on "New Grass", when Mark Hollis stretches the line "A hunger uncurbed by nature's calling" for an unspeakably gorgeous amount of time. The way this album radiates emotion, and religion, and love, and at times, silence... it's a brilliant piece of art, that's all I can say. I'm still getting into "Spirit of Eden", which appears to be just as completely awesome, as well as Mark Hollis' self-titled solo album. I want more "Laughing Stock", all the time. I fucking adore this album.

Who knows what I'll pick up and listen to in 2008? I've heard good things about the new Kid Rock.