All original artwork by our favorite evil genius, Joseph Devens.
At the halfway point of the countdown, it's time to spotlight our patient contributors. We'll use classical AP style (brief bios with "Anchorman" quotes):
Writers
- Josh Bradshaw - The recently engaged (congrats) Bradshaw is one of those smart flex players any office can plug in for instant output. He's worked with various libraries that have many leather-bound books and smell of rich mahogany, and minored in music history.
- Patrick Caldwell - Newly appointed staff writer (congrats) for the Austin-American Statesman, ATG has shared many a winding, bar-soaked conversation about existence with Caldwell. The intimate times? Outta sight, my man.
- Natalia Ciolko - A recent graduate, Natalia runs libelous liberal rags and enjoys traveling through Asia. She actually likes Le Tigre. I thought you were kidding. I thought it was a joke. I even wrote it down in my diary - Natalia had a very funny joke today. I laughed about it later that night.
- Evan Daniels - Representing Farmington Hills, Michigan, a Grand Valley State big fish ATG met on a summer internship. There was an inordinate amount of shopping in SoHo at the, uh, pants store.
- Joseph Devens - The project's luminary creative director, Devens is also an easy writer to edit and an impossible man to reach by cell phone during working hours. A man of mystery, I tried to get an interview with him, but they said no, you can't do that he's a live bear, he will literally rip your face off.
- Michal Durham - A talented artist and ardent supporter of Radiohead's failed bid for number one, Durham is Brazilian, or Chinese, or something weird.
- Tom Hardy - Another delegate from the Michigan coalition, ATG knows Hardy through Evan. They have a saying in Michigan: the coyote of the desert likes to eat the heart of the young and the blood drips down to his children for breakfast, lunch and dinner and only the ribs will be broken.
- Ben Heath - A powerful, mentoring force for ATG editors, Heath used to rule The Daily Texan with an iron fist and enjoys working with the United Nations, guitars and law school in his spare time. When John Kerry capped an atrocious campaign with a crushing defeat, Heath pissed off a lot of people by running Mapquest directions to Canada as the next morning's editorial. It's science.
- Bryant Howell - One of the panel's three business school grads, Howell is a well-traveled renaissance man who shockingly prefers playing bass in bands to bottom lines. Great Odin's raven!
- Jeremy Hurd - Fun facts about ATG's web guru: he went to Ohio State, he can dunk a basketball, he's an aspiring novelist, he organizes the team pancake breakfast.
- TJ Finley - Did you know that undergrads have
to camp out for an entire school year just to be in a lottery for Duke
basketball tickets? With tents and shit. Luckily for Finley, he's at
Duke Law. His hass a formidable scent that stings the nostrils...in a
good way.
- John Meller - Coming off a banner year wherein he directed the campus concert committee and programmed shows with Saul Williams and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Meller stands at the edge of tomorrow. The contributors met months ago to discern list at an undisclosed restaurant and Meller ordered three fingers of Glenlivet with a little bit of pepper, and, uh, some cheese.
- Andy O'Connor - Starting graduate studies at Northwestern
next semester, there's going to be flutes playing and trombones and
flowers and garlands of fresh herbs greeting O'Connor upon arrival in
Chicago.
- Robert Rich - The arsonist has oddly shaped feet.
- Eddie Strait - ATG's life-long best friend, people seem to like Eddie because he's polite and rarely late.
- Harrison Yeager - The guy that ran the concert committee
before Meller. ATG regrettably is tired of the quotes bit, but
seriously, Harrison is a really nice dude. I will tell tales of his compassion.
Consultants
John Bradley
Ejede
Scott Loewen
Cass Luskin
Austin Powell
Jess Williamson
60. The Postal Service - Give Up
Your favorite Electro-Pop record, and for good reason.
Created by the now seemingly defunct duo of Ben Gibbard & Jimmy Tamborello, work on the project began in December 01' when Tamborello started sending beats to the Death Cab for Cutie frontman/hero on CD-Rs through mail. Hence the moniker. Although the pair were never in the same room during the record's inception you never would come to that conclusion just listening. Gibbard's romantically bright, (mostly) clever wordplay and effortlessly catchy melodies fused perfectly with Tamborello's base-centric synth beats producing memorable, lovesick, spacey ballds. Subsequent anthems like "Such Great Heights," "Nothing Better," and "Brand New Colony" entranced even the most musically unaware suitemates, with quirky yet calculated sound progressions. One for the indie ether.
- Evan Daniels
Your favorite Electro-Pop record, and for good reason.
Created by the now seemingly defunct duo of Ben Gibbard & Jimmy Tamborello, work on the project began in December 01' when Tamborello started sending beats to the Death Cab for Cutie frontman/hero on CD-Rs through mail. Hence the moniker. Although the pair were never in the same room during the record's inception you never would come to that conclusion just listening. Gibbard's romantically bright, (mostly) clever wordplay and effortlessly catchy melodies fused perfectly with Tamborello's base-centric synth beats producing memorable, lovesick, spacey ballds. Subsequent anthems like "Such Great Heights," "Nothing Better," and "Brand New Colony" entranced even the most musically unaware suitemates, with quirky yet calculated sound progressions. One for the indie ether.
- Evan Daniels
"The District Sleeps Alone Tonight"
Buy it.
59. The Angelic Process - Weighing Souls With Sand
Most of this list is focused on the game-changers and massively influential records, and while that's all fine and dandy, lost gems beneath the cracks need love too. The fragmented nature of music consumption might be to blame, or maybe Napster, but Weighing Souls with Sand should have been bigger.
The sound was Merzbow remixing My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive's pedals run through Slayer's amps...it was huge. It was a crossover in metal the way M83 was in pop. The extremely pretty sounds were a huge contrast to the melancholic lyrics and metal's ever-reliant use of minor chords. Add to that this unexpectedly became the band's swan song when guitarist K. Angylus took his own life on April 26, 2008, and you have to think, this record is a fucking bummer. But sadness if a shade of human nature, and this album is a gorgeous representation.
- Andy O'Connor
59. The Angelic Process - Weighing Souls With Sand
Most of this list is focused on the game-changers and massively influential records, and while that's all fine and dandy, lost gems beneath the cracks need love too. The fragmented nature of music consumption might be to blame, or maybe Napster, but Weighing Souls with Sand should have been bigger.
The sound was Merzbow remixing My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive's pedals run through Slayer's amps...it was huge. It was a crossover in metal the way M83 was in pop. The extremely pretty sounds were a huge contrast to the melancholic lyrics and metal's ever-reliant use of minor chords. Add to that this unexpectedly became the band's swan song when guitarist K. Angylus took his own life on April 26, 2008, and you have to think, this record is a fucking bummer. But sadness if a shade of human nature, and this album is a gorgeous representation.
- Andy O'Connor
"Million Year Summer"
Buy it.
58. My Morning Jacket - Z
You know you belong on this list if a popular Sunday-night cartoon features your band for a full-length episode. I'm speaking of course of the recent Seth MacFarlane experiment, but to Jim James & Crew this nod at their excellence should just be the cherry on a decade's worth of hard work and incredible songwriting. Many of the band's best songs appear on 2005's Z, and in a much tighter structure than on earlier landmarks such as It Still Moves.
Songwriter/frontman Jim James leads the listener down a dreamy path of psychedelia, met on each side by gigantic sing-along choruses and mellow, building climaxes on the other.
Above all else, Z is full of happiness, optimism, and creativity. "You've got to know, that we will change," James yowls on "Off the Record," a song promoting responsibility and being true to one's self and the ones they love. Sounds simple, right? It is, but then James & Co tack on a three-minute extended outro jam, throwing in some creepy snippets of arcane messages spoken backwards. The next track? "Into the Woods" opens with an acid-drenched carnival melody on the organ, complete with imagery of "A kitten on fire, a baby in a blender," sung in James' trademark soulful semi-falsetto. Make no mistake, My Morning Jacket is weird, but weird in the best way. Z is evolutionary progress for a band once known for being an ordinary alt-country folk band. They've grown into the band that performs four-hour marathon sets at festivals, unafraid to expand the boundaries of their art, and yes, gets animated on "American Dad."
- Tom Hardy
58. My Morning Jacket - Z
You know you belong on this list if a popular Sunday-night cartoon features your band for a full-length episode. I'm speaking of course of the recent Seth MacFarlane experiment, but to Jim James & Crew this nod at their excellence should just be the cherry on a decade's worth of hard work and incredible songwriting. Many of the band's best songs appear on 2005's Z, and in a much tighter structure than on earlier landmarks such as It Still Moves.
Songwriter/frontman Jim James leads the listener down a dreamy path of psychedelia, met on each side by gigantic sing-along choruses and mellow, building climaxes on the other.
Above all else, Z is full of happiness, optimism, and creativity. "You've got to know, that we will change," James yowls on "Off the Record," a song promoting responsibility and being true to one's self and the ones they love. Sounds simple, right? It is, but then James & Co tack on a three-minute extended outro jam, throwing in some creepy snippets of arcane messages spoken backwards. The next track? "Into the Woods" opens with an acid-drenched carnival melody on the organ, complete with imagery of "A kitten on fire, a baby in a blender," sung in James' trademark soulful semi-falsetto. Make no mistake, My Morning Jacket is weird, but weird in the best way. Z is evolutionary progress for a band once known for being an ordinary alt-country folk band. They've grown into the band that performs four-hour marathon sets at festivals, unafraid to expand the boundaries of their art, and yes, gets animated on "American Dad."
- Tom Hardy
"Lay Low"
Buy it.
57. 2 Many DJs - As Heard On Soulwax Radio Pt. II
At a glance, this release from the bastard pop side-project of Soulwax could quickly be dismissed as irrelevant novelty. After all, the mash-up craze was already years old, and more importantly, was spread via p2p file-sharing instead of vinyl or CD copies. In regards to the volume of content, it paled in comparison to efforts like The Avalanches' 2001 LP Since I Left You, which packed 3500 samples in a cohesive hour of original songs. Nor did it have the anti-establishment punch of the Gray Album that followed a year later. And now, with a plethora of concept mash-up albums behind, artists like Girl Talk could now easily mix 45 tracks in a span of 6 minutes, not an hour. But a listen to Soulwax's seminal mix proves its worth.
It's not just the sheer absurdity of the song combinations they pull off (i.e. The Stooges vs. Salt N' Pepper, Peaches vs. Velvet Underground), nor the eclectic collection of obscure records and familiar pop singles, not even the high energy maintained for the full hour of listening. All these achievements make it a good album, but the excellence is in their technique: well planned timing, full-on mash-ups that last for minutes instead of a handful of bars, an embracing of beloved pop songs and unknown gems. That said, 2 Many DJs are still blatantly tongue-n-cheek: a hidden track in which they cut-up Kylie Minogue's vocals, using kitsch synth-pop cover songs, throwing Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" for kicks. Yet for all the snarky attitude and daringness, As Heard on Soulwax Radio Pt. II is an oddly respectful tribute to the art of DJing itself, one that marries traditional DJ skills with the ever-expanding possibilities of digital technology...and is still focused on making you want to dance.
- Josh Bradshaw
57. 2 Many DJs - As Heard On Soulwax Radio Pt. II
At a glance, this release from the bastard pop side-project of Soulwax could quickly be dismissed as irrelevant novelty. After all, the mash-up craze was already years old, and more importantly, was spread via p2p file-sharing instead of vinyl or CD copies. In regards to the volume of content, it paled in comparison to efforts like The Avalanches' 2001 LP Since I Left You, which packed 3500 samples in a cohesive hour of original songs. Nor did it have the anti-establishment punch of the Gray Album that followed a year later. And now, with a plethora of concept mash-up albums behind, artists like Girl Talk could now easily mix 45 tracks in a span of 6 minutes, not an hour. But a listen to Soulwax's seminal mix proves its worth.
It's not just the sheer absurdity of the song combinations they pull off (i.e. The Stooges vs. Salt N' Pepper, Peaches vs. Velvet Underground), nor the eclectic collection of obscure records and familiar pop singles, not even the high energy maintained for the full hour of listening. All these achievements make it a good album, but the excellence is in their technique: well planned timing, full-on mash-ups that last for minutes instead of a handful of bars, an embracing of beloved pop songs and unknown gems. That said, 2 Many DJs are still blatantly tongue-n-cheek: a hidden track in which they cut-up Kylie Minogue's vocals, using kitsch synth-pop cover songs, throwing Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" for kicks. Yet for all the snarky attitude and daringness, As Heard on Soulwax Radio Pt. II is an oddly respectful tribute to the art of DJing itself, one that marries traditional DJ skills with the ever-expanding possibilities of digital technology...and is still focused on making you want to dance.
- Josh Bradshaw
"Independent Woman Part 1 (A Capella); 10CC:Dreadlock Holiday"
Buy it.
56. Amy Winehouse - Back to Black
Something special, enduring, refreshing, game-changing, profoundly confessional, enormous. Credit to Mark Ronson for nailing the orchestration; to her handlers for nailing the presentation; to Winehouse for the soulful impressions and perfect vocals.
- Ramon Ramirez
56. Amy Winehouse - Back to Black
Something special, enduring, refreshing, game-changing, profoundly confessional, enormous. Credit to Mark Ronson for nailing the orchestration; to her handlers for nailing the presentation; to Winehouse for the soulful impressions and perfect vocals.
- Ramon Ramirez
"Love Is A Losing Game"
Buy it.
55. Sun Kil Moon - Ghosts of the Great Highway
The year was 2005 and I was looking for something new to drown myself in after having expired Pearl Jam's complete body of work. Enter Ghosts of the Great Highway by Sun Kil Moon, then already two years old. Featuring the talents of Mark Kozelek, who had been around since the early '90s, as a singer, composer, guitarist and songwriter along with Tim Mooney, Anthony Koukos, and Geoff Stanfield, I found fresh ideals from a tiring scene.
Ghosts creates for the listener a definite atmosphere--if not a transcendental paradise--by the depth of haunting, muddy-yet-clean guitar tones and the pounding of simple yet monumental drum beats.
All the while, Kozelek's Neil Young-like vocals soundly express and contemplate dilemmas of human yearning, echoes of nostalgia, and thoughts on deceased boxers (clearly, a subject of interest to the band). Doubtlessly soulful and wise, Ghosts stands out simply due to the inevitable presence of subtle post-modern grit configured by its unusually grounded nature. Only mere kernels of angst are present ("Carry Me Ohio" and "Lily and Parrots") while the whole of each song's awareness is peaceful and content--as if it is all going to be alright. Epic yet tenuous, Ghosts of the Great Highway guides young adults in a world full of pressure.
- Michal Durham
"Carry Me Ohio"
55. Sun Kil Moon - Ghosts of the Great Highway
The year was 2005 and I was looking for something new to drown myself in after having expired Pearl Jam's complete body of work. Enter Ghosts of the Great Highway by Sun Kil Moon, then already two years old. Featuring the talents of Mark Kozelek, who had been around since the early '90s, as a singer, composer, guitarist and songwriter along with Tim Mooney, Anthony Koukos, and Geoff Stanfield, I found fresh ideals from a tiring scene.
Ghosts creates for the listener a definite atmosphere--if not a transcendental paradise--by the depth of haunting, muddy-yet-clean guitar tones and the pounding of simple yet monumental drum beats.
All the while, Kozelek's Neil Young-like vocals soundly express and contemplate dilemmas of human yearning, echoes of nostalgia, and thoughts on deceased boxers (clearly, a subject of interest to the band). Doubtlessly soulful and wise, Ghosts stands out simply due to the inevitable presence of subtle post-modern grit configured by its unusually grounded nature. Only mere kernels of angst are present ("Carry Me Ohio" and "Lily and Parrots") while the whole of each song's awareness is peaceful and content--as if it is all going to be alright. Epic yet tenuous, Ghosts of the Great Highway guides young adults in a world full of pressure.
- Michal Durham
"Carry Me Ohio"
Buy it.
54. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
By now, the story has been told a thousand times, and even Britney fans and Democratic Senators on the farthest reaches of the quality music circle of life know it front to back: Justin Vernon holed himself up in a Wisconsin cabin with nothing more than a select few pieces of recording equipment and heaps of creative thoughts, and what resulted is For Emma, Forever Ago.
It's a Thoreau-esque tale, but for all the right reasons. The record is something you can see the poet listening to at Walden Pond, filtering through the speakers of his anachronistic record player and giving him peace. Vernon's voice is nothing short of angelic, a lightly layered falsetto tiptoeing on top of everything, giving every note a celestial quality, something ethereal, something heavenly. It's easy to speak of the album in generalities, to take note of its beauty and the romantic nature of the circumstances in which it was created, but truth be told, even if Vernon had entered a typical recording studio with an engineering intern, full backing band, and more technology than he could get his hands on, the result would be the same. For Emma is a timeless record, and the themes of love, loss and sacrifice will be just as poignant for however many decades humanity has left. It is Justin Vernon's Walden Pond, if not something entirely greater.
- Robert Rich
54. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
By now, the story has been told a thousand times, and even Britney fans and Democratic Senators on the farthest reaches of the quality music circle of life know it front to back: Justin Vernon holed himself up in a Wisconsin cabin with nothing more than a select few pieces of recording equipment and heaps of creative thoughts, and what resulted is For Emma, Forever Ago.
It's a Thoreau-esque tale, but for all the right reasons. The record is something you can see the poet listening to at Walden Pond, filtering through the speakers of his anachronistic record player and giving him peace. Vernon's voice is nothing short of angelic, a lightly layered falsetto tiptoeing on top of everything, giving every note a celestial quality, something ethereal, something heavenly. It's easy to speak of the album in generalities, to take note of its beauty and the romantic nature of the circumstances in which it was created, but truth be told, even if Vernon had entered a typical recording studio with an engineering intern, full backing band, and more technology than he could get his hands on, the result would be the same. For Emma is a timeless record, and the themes of love, loss and sacrifice will be just as poignant for however many decades humanity has left. It is Justin Vernon's Walden Pond, if not something entirely greater.
- Robert Rich
"Skinny Love"
Buy it.
53. The Unicorns - Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?
I still mourn the day "THE UNICORNS ARE DEAD (R.I.P.)" flashed across The Unicorns' website.
Montreal's Unicorns existed from 2000-2004 and played simultaneously catchy, experimental (their songs rarely, if ever, had a traditional structure with a chorus), joyous rock. "Twee" doesn't do them justice though their music captured child-like perspectives; they were equally obsessed with death and the supernatural.
Put simply an incredible, unique record - it was their only official release before the breakup. Perfect pop and a weird spot on the decade that doesn't fit in with anything else: synthesizers and lyrics about ghosts played straight, a live spectacle with no artificiality. They often created some sort of gimmick at their shows such as staging knife fights, hiring hobos to dance on stage, hiring random kids to pose as The Unicorns. It fit. It was beautiful.
I was at their last show, in Houston of all places, at the Engine Room. They spent the whole set rambling about death, playing weird versions of their standards (in honor of Houston, they played a chopped-and-screwed version of "Tuff Ghost" lost on most), and generally acting like a wounded animal about to die. At the end of the show, they played a half-dead version of their theme song "I was Born (A Unicorn)."
Nick "Neil" Diamonds (now with Islands, whose first album sounds like fully orchestrated Unicorns music), chugged a bottle of wine and fell backwards into the crowd. It was depressing. It was uneasy.
- John Meller
53. The Unicorns - Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?
I still mourn the day "THE UNICORNS ARE DEAD (R.I.P.)" flashed across The Unicorns' website.
Montreal's Unicorns existed from 2000-2004 and played simultaneously catchy, experimental (their songs rarely, if ever, had a traditional structure with a chorus), joyous rock. "Twee" doesn't do them justice though their music captured child-like perspectives; they were equally obsessed with death and the supernatural.
Put simply an incredible, unique record - it was their only official release before the breakup. Perfect pop and a weird spot on the decade that doesn't fit in with anything else: synthesizers and lyrics about ghosts played straight, a live spectacle with no artificiality. They often created some sort of gimmick at their shows such as staging knife fights, hiring hobos to dance on stage, hiring random kids to pose as The Unicorns. It fit. It was beautiful.
I was at their last show, in Houston of all places, at the Engine Room. They spent the whole set rambling about death, playing weird versions of their standards (in honor of Houston, they played a chopped-and-screwed version of "Tuff Ghost" lost on most), and generally acting like a wounded animal about to die. At the end of the show, they played a half-dead version of their theme song "I was Born (A Unicorn)."
Nick "Neil" Diamonds (now with Islands, whose first album sounds like fully orchestrated Unicorns music), chugged a bottle of wine and fell backwards into the crowd. It was depressing. It was uneasy.
- John Meller
"Tuff Ghost"
Buy it.
52. Interpol - Turn On the Bright Lights
Garage rock returned as the decade dawned. East Coast guitar bands descended upon us, allegedly here to save rock n' roll from itself yet again.
A New York band that went by the name Interpol (no relation to the global policing organization, although the name hints at their mystery) grew to notoriety with their 2002 debut but used a different influence from which to root their sound in - the dark, atmospheric sound of legendary Manchester four-piece Joy Division.
The similarities are easy to spot, impossible to ignore - Interpol's vocalist Paul Banks effortlessly recreates a version of that baritone croon that Ian Curtis made his own in the late '70s. Lyrics containing vague, alert themes exist in both bands' vernacular, yet detractors who write off Interpol as simply ripoff artists are short-sighted and incorrect.
Where Curtis created an aural environment filled with paranoia and isolation within your own head, Banks paints a picture of loneliness in the context of the sprawling majesty of the big city. On "NYC," something of the band's theme song and quasi-title track on Bright Lights, "the subway is a porno and the pavements they are a mess." The 21st century has come, and though the world may have shrunk we still haven't figured out how to avoid misanthropy. Turn on the Bright Lights, more so than the band's subsequent releases, explores this feeling of dread and fear of insignificance and relates to its peers, whether exiting the L Train to Williamsburg or walking down a suburban high school hall.
- Tom Hardy
52. Interpol - Turn On the Bright Lights
Garage rock returned as the decade dawned. East Coast guitar bands descended upon us, allegedly here to save rock n' roll from itself yet again.
A New York band that went by the name Interpol (no relation to the global policing organization, although the name hints at their mystery) grew to notoriety with their 2002 debut but used a different influence from which to root their sound in - the dark, atmospheric sound of legendary Manchester four-piece Joy Division.
The similarities are easy to spot, impossible to ignore - Interpol's vocalist Paul Banks effortlessly recreates a version of that baritone croon that Ian Curtis made his own in the late '70s. Lyrics containing vague, alert themes exist in both bands' vernacular, yet detractors who write off Interpol as simply ripoff artists are short-sighted and incorrect.
Where Curtis created an aural environment filled with paranoia and isolation within your own head, Banks paints a picture of loneliness in the context of the sprawling majesty of the big city. On "NYC," something of the band's theme song and quasi-title track on Bright Lights, "the subway is a porno and the pavements they are a mess." The 21st century has come, and though the world may have shrunk we still haven't figured out how to avoid misanthropy. Turn on the Bright Lights, more so than the band's subsequent releases, explores this feeling of dread and fear of insignificance and relates to its peers, whether exiting the L Train to Williamsburg or walking down a suburban high school hall.
- Tom Hardy
"Obstacle 1"
Buy it.
51. The Mountain Goats - The Coroner's Gambit
"This is a song for you, in case I never make it through to where you are."
The final line of "Shadow Songs" comes heavily laden, evoking the empty chair by the fireplace, the empty seat at the table. It's the image of the restless traveler, and of the weight caused by his absence. This mood colors every song on The Coroner's Gambit, as John Darnielle's narrators journey far from home, drunk on their own fantasies and charging toward death.
"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" provides the foundation for the grinding opener "Jaipur," and "Baboon" recounts a one-way drive deep into a pine forest. "Elijah" captures the mad prophet, homeward bound and exhorting his pregnant wife to "set the table, those three extra places: one for me, one for your doubts, and one for God." The rough static of these recordings only
adds to the mood, making everything sound like decoded transmissions from someone who never made it home.
- Ben Heath
"Elijah"
51. The Mountain Goats - The Coroner's Gambit
"This is a song for you, in case I never make it through to where you are."
The final line of "Shadow Songs" comes heavily laden, evoking the empty chair by the fireplace, the empty seat at the table. It's the image of the restless traveler, and of the weight caused by his absence. This mood colors every song on The Coroner's Gambit, as John Darnielle's narrators journey far from home, drunk on their own fantasies and charging toward death.
"Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" provides the foundation for the grinding opener "Jaipur," and "Baboon" recounts a one-way drive deep into a pine forest. "Elijah" captures the mad prophet, homeward bound and exhorting his pregnant wife to "set the table, those three extra places: one for me, one for your doubts, and one for God." The rough static of these recordings only
adds to the mood, making everything sound like decoded transmissions from someone who never made it home.
- Ben Heath
"Elijah"
Buy it.
50. Slum Village - Fantastic Vol. 2
"It's the Fan-tas-tic." Of all the potent hip-hop scenes of the past decade, from Houston to Chicago to ATL, Detroit may have received the least dividends for all of its hard work and talent. Slum Village, the post-Native Tongues trio founded by Dilla Himself became vaunted heroes of the underground in the Rawkus Records era that saw the rise of artists like Black Star and Pharohe Monch. Fantastic vol. 2, actually their second album but the first to get anything approaching a major release, was a dense, off-beat, organic testament to a brand of hip-hop that was born in ciphers and driven not by intellectual fortitude or masculine bravado, but by idealism and its manifestation in everyday urban life. The music, which featured guests like D'Angelo, Busta Rhymes, Common and Q-Tip, was alternately warm and frenetic with Dilla's unmistakable drums and found-sounds working as the perfect complement to emcees T3 and Baatin's idiosyncratic flow. Unfortunately, none of it was too long for this world, and following the album's release the group struggled under the vast pressure of being anointed by the hip-hop community as the next A Tribe Called Quest; a label made all the more daunting by a baton-passing appearance from a then-retired Q-Tip on the track "Hold Tight." Dilla would never be able to commit to the project again, and the rest of the group's members went on to release a number of SV albums with a revolving cast (eventually including brilliant new Motor City talents in their own right like Black Milk and Elzhi). But there will never be another Fantastic. Chalk it up to the end of an era.
49. The Strokes - Is This It?
The first platinum-selling Velvet Underground record, Is This It? held promise of leading a wave of hip rock back to pop prominence, banishing post-grunge and nu-metal to the bargain bins of history. While those derided genres continued to linger, this became a permanent break between fans of "indie rock" and "modern rock radio," both musically and culturally. The old cliché is that everyone who heard the Velvet Underground went and started a band; everyone who heard Is This It? quit listening to other rock music, bought some tight jeans, and started ironically dancing.
An abrupt change, though nothing about them really sounds new or dangerous; this is punk music made by well-off pretty boys, the guys quoting just enough Sartre to get into a freshman's pants. "Last Night" spells out the philosophy of a generation of hipsters, resignation and confusion at a meaningless world: "And people they don't understand / Your girlfriends they can't understand / Your grandsons they won't understand / On top of this I ain't ever gonna understand." Hedonistic nihilism, looking at an unknown future and accepting, "If nothing matters, we might as well have some fun." Movies in 30, 40 years about 2001 will have "Soma" on the soundtrack.
Sonically it's the demo tape for hundreds of future bands. Julian Casablancas' distorted vocals gargle out like the bastard child of Jim Morrison and Lou Reed thrown through broken autotune, with changes in vocal intensity resulting in variations in clarity rather than volume. The guitars sparkle as they lumber forward, occasionally playing off of each other, and the drums bang out 4/4 beats with enough vigor to throw a perfectly selected Goodwill scarf off your neck on the dance floor. Sure the lyrics aren't important or even clear enough to warrant close reading, and the compressed sound doesn't stand the test of time on a good stereo, but we were too busy playing it on our iPods at house parties and trying to impress each other with secret knowledge of the next big thing.
- Bryant Howell
"Last Nite"
50. Slum Village - Fantastic Vol. 2
"It's the Fan-tas-tic." Of all the potent hip-hop scenes of the past decade, from Houston to Chicago to ATL, Detroit may have received the least dividends for all of its hard work and talent. Slum Village, the post-Native Tongues trio founded by Dilla Himself became vaunted heroes of the underground in the Rawkus Records era that saw the rise of artists like Black Star and Pharohe Monch. Fantastic vol. 2, actually their second album but the first to get anything approaching a major release, was a dense, off-beat, organic testament to a brand of hip-hop that was born in ciphers and driven not by intellectual fortitude or masculine bravado, but by idealism and its manifestation in everyday urban life. The music, which featured guests like D'Angelo, Busta Rhymes, Common and Q-Tip, was alternately warm and frenetic with Dilla's unmistakable drums and found-sounds working as the perfect complement to emcees T3 and Baatin's idiosyncratic flow. Unfortunately, none of it was too long for this world, and following the album's release the group struggled under the vast pressure of being anointed by the hip-hop community as the next A Tribe Called Quest; a label made all the more daunting by a baton-passing appearance from a then-retired Q-Tip on the track "Hold Tight." Dilla would never be able to commit to the project again, and the rest of the group's members went on to release a number of SV albums with a revolving cast (eventually including brilliant new Motor City talents in their own right like Black Milk and Elzhi). But there will never be another Fantastic. Chalk it up to the end of an era.
- Reggie Ugwu
"Fall N Love"
49. The Strokes - Is This It?
The first platinum-selling Velvet Underground record, Is This It? held promise of leading a wave of hip rock back to pop prominence, banishing post-grunge and nu-metal to the bargain bins of history. While those derided genres continued to linger, this became a permanent break between fans of "indie rock" and "modern rock radio," both musically and culturally. The old cliché is that everyone who heard the Velvet Underground went and started a band; everyone who heard Is This It? quit listening to other rock music, bought some tight jeans, and started ironically dancing.
An abrupt change, though nothing about them really sounds new or dangerous; this is punk music made by well-off pretty boys, the guys quoting just enough Sartre to get into a freshman's pants. "Last Night" spells out the philosophy of a generation of hipsters, resignation and confusion at a meaningless world: "And people they don't understand / Your girlfriends they can't understand / Your grandsons they won't understand / On top of this I ain't ever gonna understand." Hedonistic nihilism, looking at an unknown future and accepting, "If nothing matters, we might as well have some fun." Movies in 30, 40 years about 2001 will have "Soma" on the soundtrack.
Sonically it's the demo tape for hundreds of future bands. Julian Casablancas' distorted vocals gargle out like the bastard child of Jim Morrison and Lou Reed thrown through broken autotune, with changes in vocal intensity resulting in variations in clarity rather than volume. The guitars sparkle as they lumber forward, occasionally playing off of each other, and the drums bang out 4/4 beats with enough vigor to throw a perfectly selected Goodwill scarf off your neck on the dance floor. Sure the lyrics aren't important or even clear enough to warrant close reading, and the compressed sound doesn't stand the test of time on a good stereo, but we were too busy playing it on our iPods at house parties and trying to impress each other with secret knowledge of the next big thing.
- Bryant Howell
"Last Nite"
Buy it.
48. Elliott Smith - From a Basement On a Hill
"I've got no new act to amuse you." "Burning every bridge that I cross/To find some beautiful place to get lost." "Is it destruction that you require to feel/Like somebody wants you, someone that's more for real." "Woke up in shock she had seen her own body outlined in chalk." "And I'm strung out again while the tides coming in looking at my lost reflection." "Veins full of disappearing ink/Vomiting in the kitchen sink/Disconnecting from the missing link...This is not my life." "The judge is on vinyl, decisions are final and nobody gets a reprieve." "I better stop now before I start crying/Go off to sleep in the sunshine."
- Ramon Ramirez
48. Elliott Smith - From a Basement On a Hill
"I've got no new act to amuse you." "Burning every bridge that I cross/To find some beautiful place to get lost." "Is it destruction that you require to feel/Like somebody wants you, someone that's more for real." "Woke up in shock she had seen her own body outlined in chalk." "And I'm strung out again while the tides coming in looking at my lost reflection." "Veins full of disappearing ink/Vomiting in the kitchen sink/Disconnecting from the missing link...This is not my life." "The judge is on vinyl, decisions are final and nobody gets a reprieve." "I better stop now before I start crying/Go off to sleep in the sunshine."
- Ramon Ramirez
"Don't Go Down"
Buy it.
47. R. Kelly - TP-2.com
47. R. Kelly - TP-2.com
In a friendly conversation about who was "The Artist of the Decade," someone dryly crowned R. Kelly. He was joking, but he might just as well have been serious. Despite any number of, um, distractions, it should be obvious by now who the greatest R&B songwriter/producer of our time is. It's the guy with the Grammys who made smash, culturally transcendent hits out of absurd and absurdly brilliant sexual metaphors. Who made a serial radio opera and a straight-faced gospel album that each found runaway success. And who in 2000 released the perfect baby-making manual for the new millennium and called it TP2.com. "The Greatest Sex," "Feeling On Your Booty," "Fiesta," "A Woman's Threat," "I Wish:" wall-to-wall, Kells' 4th studio album is a modern marvel, a cultural touchstone and one of the finest recordings of the decade. No joke.
- Reggie Ugwu
"I Wish"
46. M83 - Before the Dawn Heals Us
The college radio station broadcasted across campus, but only from seven to seven.
There was a hierarchy and to land a prime pole position, graveyard shifts were the path. The middle, middle of the night when no one listened, three to five in the morning; too late to just stay up and drive to the station, too early to get to bed and set an alarm.
These were hazy, shitty shows.
It was January and French synthpop machine M83 (Anthony Gonzalez and assorted musicians) released their second album.
Before the Dawn Heals us is music for being awake when few are. In the literal sense. For working part-time security jobs downtown overnight when it's just you, the highest story of an empty parking garage, vibrant city lights.
It's sweeping, dramatic shoegaze with spoken word bridges and burrowing lines of simple, hammered home instrumental tracks stacked and stacked like Young Jeezy adlibs.
It was my fault for not paying attention, but I never thought electronic music could be so human.
- Ramon Ramirez
The college radio station broadcasted across campus, but only from seven to seven.
There was a hierarchy and to land a prime pole position, graveyard shifts were the path. The middle, middle of the night when no one listened, three to five in the morning; too late to just stay up and drive to the station, too early to get to bed and set an alarm.
These were hazy, shitty shows.
It was January and French synthpop machine M83 (Anthony Gonzalez and assorted musicians) released their second album.
Before the Dawn Heals us is music for being awake when few are. In the literal sense. For working part-time security jobs downtown overnight when it's just you, the highest story of an empty parking garage, vibrant city lights.
It's sweeping, dramatic shoegaze with spoken word bridges and burrowing lines of simple, hammered home instrumental tracks stacked and stacked like Young Jeezy adlibs.
It was my fault for not paying attention, but I never thought electronic music could be so human.
- Ramon Ramirez
"Teen Angst"
Buy it.
45. TV on The Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain
A dissenting email from New York-via-Austin contributor Ben Heath about TV on The Radio and this list:
45. TV on The Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain
A dissenting email from New York-via-Austin contributor Ben Heath about TV on The Radio and this list:
- Return to Cookie Mountain is one of the best of the decade. That record brilliantly challenged our notion of what a rock "song" ought to sound like. Instead of neatly divided guitar/bass/drum/keys/vocal arrangements, TVotR delivered a dense, heavy musical soup. This approach resembles hip-hop not in the final product, but in the arrangement, where the only discernable distinction is between the vocal track and the beat. It proved that the electronic/noise/pop experimentations by Radiohead, Wilco and Califone weren't just weirdos fooling around at the margins of pop, but that they represented a way forward, a revitalization of the style. Hope that made sense.
- Speaking of Califone: Roots and Crowns, Quicksand/Cradlesnakes, Heron King Blues.
- A word in support of TI's King (2006): non-stop, fucking epic, best UGK guest spot ever (fuck Dizzee Rascal).
- Bring the noise: Birchville Cat Motel (Beautiful Speck Triumph, 2005), Jazkamer (Metal Music Machine, 2006), Brendan Murray (Commonwealth, 2006), Sunn O))) (Monoliths & Dimensions, 2009), Fennesz (Endless Summer, 2001). Shit. I'm not even hip enough to be recommending these.
- Bring the jazz: Anthony Braxton (9 Compositions (Iridium), 2007), Bill Dixon (17 Musicians in Search of a Sound: Darfur, 2008), David S Ware (Freedom Suite, 2002), Derek Bailey (Ballads, 2002)
- Bring the old people: Dinosaur Jr., Mission of Burma, Fugazi
- I'd take Game Theory over Rising Down, because I think it hits harder is stays strong throughout, but I'm not married to it.
- Let them have their Dream Theater and Say Anything. That's the shit that gives this thing character.
- I'm listening to Thievery Corporation's "Cosmic Game" right now. Don't like it: too safe. That's why ACL will book them. Check Michael Rose's Dub Warrior.
"Wolf Like Me"
44. 50 Cent - Get Rich Or Die Tryin'
No matter what you think of the current state of 50's career, few can argue that Get Rich or Die Tryin' is one of the greatest debut's in hip-hop history, commercially and qualitative. Curtis gets shot a tenth time and doesn't make it, he's in the Biggie and Pac pantheon.
The album was a perfect mix of commercial bangers ("In da Club," "21 Questions," "P.I.M.P."), hard hitting bravado over tough beats ("What up Gangsta," "Back Down," "Blood Hound"), and catchy hooks that 50 used to tell his more than memorable life story ("Many Men," "Poor Lil Rich," "Gotta Make it to Heaven"). Not to mention two gruesome Shady collaborations that showed 50 could hold his own against the best, and a nasty introduction to his G-Unit cronies (the southern prince Young Buck, the wordy craftsman Lloyd Banks, the serendipitously jailed at the time because he sucks Tony Yayo) who would help him dominate a good chuck of the decade.
The album represents a mixture of 50's hunger and knowledge of what the people wanted, leaving an indelible mark on rap history. Money. Power. Respect.
- TJ Finley
No matter what you think of the current state of 50's career, few can argue that Get Rich or Die Tryin' is one of the greatest debut's in hip-hop history, commercially and qualitative. Curtis gets shot a tenth time and doesn't make it, he's in the Biggie and Pac pantheon.
The album was a perfect mix of commercial bangers ("In da Club," "21 Questions," "P.I.M.P."), hard hitting bravado over tough beats ("What up Gangsta," "Back Down," "Blood Hound"), and catchy hooks that 50 used to tell his more than memorable life story ("Many Men," "Poor Lil Rich," "Gotta Make it to Heaven"). Not to mention two gruesome Shady collaborations that showed 50 could hold his own against the best, and a nasty introduction to his G-Unit cronies (the southern prince Young Buck, the wordy craftsman Lloyd Banks, the serendipitously jailed at the time because he sucks Tony Yayo) who would help him dominate a good chuck of the decade.
The album represents a mixture of 50's hunger and knowledge of what the people wanted, leaving an indelible mark on rap history. Money. Power. Respect.
- TJ Finley
"Many Men"
Buy it.
43. The Roots - Rising Down
42. The New Pornographers - Mass Romantic
Mass Romantic just may be one of the most belabored pop classics of the decade -- it took three years and three writers to come to fruition. And its songs are loaded top-to-bottom with a million theoretically clashing sounds -- waves of cheesy synths and walls of guitars, pipe organs and horns, tuneful vocal harmonies and layers of keyboards. It stuffs New Wave pandemonium into Cheap Trick pop-glam.
Which makes it all the more surprising that it's such a light album, so fleet of foot, so airy and fun, with an atmosphere that sounds distinctly unstudied. Producer and bassist John Collins was joking when he dubbed the band a "supergroup," but history would prove him right -- front man A.C. Newman and eccentric genius Dan Bejar's solo careers would both take off after Mass Romantic. Meanwhile, vocalist Neko Case would rocket into the stratosphere -- or at least your local Starbucks.
The band would go on to be one of the decade's most consistent, releasing three more excellent albums. But it's on Mass Romantic, with its energetic, muscular power-pop sound, that the New Pornographers are at their most charming, their most cornball and their most overdosed on hooks. From the explosive opening title track to the addictive sing-along anthem "The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism," it's the kind of uncommonly sweet, sugary confection that could only be cooked up by a band that was young, talented and wholly unaware of what it was doing.
- Patrick Caldwell
43. The Roots - Rising Down
Even with an undoubtedly impressive resume at eight albums spanning 16 years, The Roots don't ever fully reinvent themselves. In the 2000s especially, The Tipping Point and Game Theory mostly represented logical extensions for the band, adding just enough new tricks to keep things fresh. Rising Down, though (taken from the title of William T. Vollmann's massive tome on violence), is from a different, more aggressive playbook. It opens with a violent shouting match from a recorded phone conversation between the band and its label bosses. It's heavy on features from militant, no-name rappers with an axe to grind (Dice Raw repeatedly steals the show). It's angry, paranoid, bitter and dark almost to the point of being overbearing. It's not clear what uncorked a band that in 2008 had become such a household name that Jimmy Fallon invited them into millions of homes on a nightly basis, but Rising Down is the powerful, uncompromising album that finally gave us a peak at the other side of The Roots' consciousness.
- Reggie Ugwu
"Rising Down"
42. The New Pornographers - Mass Romantic
Mass Romantic just may be one of the most belabored pop classics of the decade -- it took three years and three writers to come to fruition. And its songs are loaded top-to-bottom with a million theoretically clashing sounds -- waves of cheesy synths and walls of guitars, pipe organs and horns, tuneful vocal harmonies and layers of keyboards. It stuffs New Wave pandemonium into Cheap Trick pop-glam.
Which makes it all the more surprising that it's such a light album, so fleet of foot, so airy and fun, with an atmosphere that sounds distinctly unstudied. Producer and bassist John Collins was joking when he dubbed the band a "supergroup," but history would prove him right -- front man A.C. Newman and eccentric genius Dan Bejar's solo careers would both take off after Mass Romantic. Meanwhile, vocalist Neko Case would rocket into the stratosphere -- or at least your local Starbucks.
The band would go on to be one of the decade's most consistent, releasing three more excellent albums. But it's on Mass Romantic, with its energetic, muscular power-pop sound, that the New Pornographers are at their most charming, their most cornball and their most overdosed on hooks. From the explosive opening title track to the addictive sing-along anthem "The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism," it's the kind of uncommonly sweet, sugary confection that could only be cooked up by a band that was young, talented and wholly unaware of what it was doing.
- Patrick Caldwell
"The Slow Descent into Alcoholism"
Buy it.
41. Outkast - Speakerboxxx/The Love Below
41. Outkast - Speakerboxxx/The Love Below
No way Oukast is broken up. No way Three Stacks and Big Boi, best friends and better halves since high school, don't drop another album in 2010. God knows the game needs it. ATLiens will invade again. Speakerboxxx/The Love Below was the group's boldest project. A double album splitting the duo down the middle, it played like the inner sanctum of everyone's favorite enigmatic rap outfit laid bare. It was a little unsettling.
All due respect to Big Boi, let's take a moment for Andre 3000's show-stealing The Love Below. Let's consider a solo album from an unknowable rap superstar whose strange and beautiful sonic landscape featured an urbanization of Abbot and Costello's "Who's on First?;" a psychedelic, free jazz interpretation of Rodger's and Hammerstein's "My Favorite Things;" and a tossed off duet with Norah Jones. Who could predict that four-minutes of irrational exuberance like "Hey Ya!" would amount to a nationwide obsession? Or that it would push a double album to 15 million units sold? Despite the rumors and perennial push-backs, surely there's more where all of this came from, waiting to manifest itself in one way or another. These two aren't finished. No way.
- Reggie Ugwu
"Hey Ya"
Subscribe to 1000G Features
Leave a comment