With 2010 now behind us, I’m rounding out the retrospective of my personal favorites from that year with a look at the top 10 full albums of that rather impressive spin of the earth. This particular list is a little belated due to recommendations that I purchased and listened to pretty heavily around the new year, and the list reflects some changes because of that. Now, when I say “full albums,” that eliminates a lot of otherwise great options, because I’m going simply by records with absolutely zero skipworthy tracks.
10. Seth Swirsky: Watercolor Day
Seth Swirsky is, to make the understatement of all time, an acolyte of the Beatles, but what he creates on his sprawling pop record Watercolor Day isn’t a mere imitation of the Fab Four (though his voice, at times, sounds almost exactly like George Harrison in his youth) but a fitting homage to the pop rock genre they kickstarted. Watercolor Day plays like an album of Britpop covers written from distant but deep-seated memories, filtered through Swirsky’s decades of pop songwriting to form an engaging, novel creation.
Watercolor Day is that perfect kind of album that doesn’t require much involvement to enjoy (though there’s plenty of subtext to dissect) and fits into your day at any time (clocking in at a comfortable 43 minutes) no matter what mood you’re in (enjoying the simple pleasure of the warmth of the sun or wallowing in malaise). Oh, and Seth Swirsky is one of the only open conservatives in the music industry who isn’t a parody-peddling hack, and you should support him forever.
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The pitfalls of electronic music are mind-numbing repetition and predictable soundscapes that grew stale in the mid-90s; however, the democratization of music production technology has fueled a veritable renaissance within the genre. Whereas the ’90s saw masterful work from artists such as Daft Punk and Aphex Twin, there were way too many dance/techno albums I had to bump from this list merely due to the limit of ten entries [and with Greg Gutfeld introducing me to Tobacco, I’m already kinda regretting not bumping this one]. Caribou’s Swim is an experience like being dropped in a tight, dank underground maze where you’re being followed, catching only brief glimpses of sunlight. The understated, chilling synths are anchored by intriguing variations on the ol’ bass-snare-bass-snare, and composer Daniel Victor Snaith’s falsetto vocals bring an element of humanity– isolated and fearful as it may be– that cement the music’s connection to your psyche. It’s a dark, harrowing trip that leaves you exhausted but satisfied.
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There’s a specific time and place for Down There, the first solo album from Avey Tare of Animal Collective; you may have lost a loved one or a lover, you may be questioning your place in this world, or you may just be driving alone on a highway at 2 AM. Whatever it may be, the best way to experience this record is in the dark, in the cold, all alone– hence its release close to Halloween last year. But don’t pigeonhole it as an intentionally “spooky” album. Whereas Caribou brings us through a journey of fear and claustrophobia, Avey’s pulling us into wide open spaces, and we’re plagued not by paranoia but ennui, the feeling that you are nothing and you’re going nowhere. Though it ends on a high note with the single “Lucky 1,” Down There is ultimately a downer album, but it’s a touching work by an artist who finds himself in the odd position of creative and commercial success has been rendered moot by his personal life unraveling. For him to let us peek into his struggles so intimately is as endearing as it is entertaining, and it’s an experience you can really immerse yourself in.
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While Kanye West and Big Boi had highly lauded records with quite a few bright spots, ultimately I had to bump them from the list; their excessive obscenity and chauvinism is a dealbreaker for me. Fortunately, there’s none of that to be found on the Gorillaz’ Plastic Beach. Some may make hay out of the album’s environmentalist themes, but it’s less a warning of impending doom than a portrait of life after cataclysm. From microwavable jellyfish breakfasts to giddiness over winning sweepstakes to good old tales of unrequited love, the album creates vignettes that testify to the uncanny ability of the world and the human spirit to adapt to whatever circumstances we may encounter. Singer Damon Albarn describes his intention with the album this way: “I’ve always felt, I’m trying to get across on this new record, the idea that plastic, we see it as being against nature but it’s come out of nature. We didn’t create plastic, nature created plastic. And just seeing the snakes like living in the warmth of decomposing plastic bags. They like it. It was a strange kind of optimism that I felt.”
Albarn shares the mic with an eclectic group of vocalists, from Snoop Dogg to Lou Reed, yet the album feels rather cohesive despite cycling through vocalists and styles from song to song. As mentioned in my write-up of standout track “Empire Ants,” the beats are a perfect fusion of hip hop and trance– fat smacking snares, tight, thick kicks, and a host of electronic blips and beeps give an atmosphere of third-world hustle & bustle, and this energy stretches out each track’s one or two instrumental loops without becoming a snooze-fest. These are fully realized pop songs, both in their lyrical and musical composition.
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6. The Innocence Mission: My Room in the Trees
The Innocence Mission have gone from major-label recording artists to do-it-yourself-ers living in rural Pennsylvania, and it’s one of the best decisions they could have made. Don and Karen Peris, the husband and wife duo who lead the group, draw inspiration from the minutiae of what seems to be a pastoral life, finding joy and beauty in the intricate details of family, friends, and faith. They draw out these themes through quietly powerful folk music that’s instantly moving without ever stepping on the path toward kitsch, because they very obviously take their Catholic faith seriously. It’s this respect toward the name and character of God that gives their music extra resonance; despite the uplifting mood, you won’t find any cheap tricks or a manipulative whitewashing of reality. For all the hipsters out there searching for “authenticity,” My Room in the Trees is as far as you need to look to find it.
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The most fascinating element of High Violet is its production. In the past, The National has been rather straightforward with its guitar-drums-bass recordings and has tossed in a piano or string/horn section every once in a while. High Violet, while still featuring prominent, bassy drums, heavily filters its guitar parts and supplemental synths and other instruments through haze and fuzz, making indistinct textures out of traditional instrumentation. It gives the proceedings an air of unintrusive maturity, a satisfying adult drama that doesn’t constantly try to remind you just how mature and subtle it is. Singer Matt Berninger switches things up a bit, reaching into higher octaves and mumbling less, and drummer Bryan Devendorf pounds away furiously, tying the remaining players’ instruments into the aforementioned amorphous whole.
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4. Blackbird Blackbird: Summer Heart
I personally want to thank Bandcamp.com, not only for being an incredible tool for artists’ distribution and sales, but for introducing me to a whole new world of independent music. Chief among my discoveries at the site has been Blackbird Blackbird, a synthpop outfit from San Francisco that, despite its low profile, produces bright, dense, saturated shoegaze that delivers immediate gratification. Within seconds of each track’s start, you’re transported exactly where they want you to be, bathed in rays of sunshine or mingling with friends at late-night party, and they don’t linger too long, preventing fatigue that the instruments’ heavy compression could easily cause. With all the other downers on this list, Summer Heart stands out if only for its perpetual warmth; if I ever needed a pick-me-up or a moment of unadulterated optimism, I had a perfect album to listen to.
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Big. Loud. Distorted. Raw. Rock riffs. Club beats. Hot eats. Cool treats?
If you waste time describing the sound of Sleigh Bells, you’re missing the point. Just turn up your speakers:
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What Erik Berglund of the Swedish pop duo The Tough Alliance has done is truly a marvel. In an album where he recounts nothing less than a religious epiphany and conversion, which often invites long-windedness, he trims any and all filler from the material. With 8 songs clocking in at around 25 minutes, no second of this energetic, organic dance-pop record goes to waste. In the spirit of his excellent work, I’m trimming the filler from my write-up as well. Just take a look at the glorious Xtianist symbolism in the video for “Come with Me.”
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1. Sufjan Stevens: The Age of Adz
Original, paranoid Xtianist rambling review is here. I entered into 2010 thinking Sufjan Stevens was washed up, eaten alive by hipster pretentiousness and incapable of anything more than soulless exercises in showing off his considerable technical skills. By the time I had reached the third, titular track on The Age of Adz, I knew I was dead wrong. The man had channeled his odd “What is a song now that we have mp3s?” existential crisis into something far more fundamental, a crisis of personal identity in relation to faith. Unlike many reviewers have said, this sweeping, romantic epic is not just a collection of songs with loose thematic ties. What we’re hearing is an intensely personal concept album where Sufjan tries to reconcile the disparate elements of his humanity– primarily as artist, as lover, and as Christian– and the results are, in his own words, a mess. Electronic and analog instruments crash back and forth into each other; Sufjan’s voice gets garbled through all manner of digital processing; the sound creaks and teeters under its own massive weight; but Stevens keeps a steady hand and lifts each song to goosebump-inducing highs. If this were a list of the top albums of the Aughts, it would be #1 as well. Putting aside hyperbole and figurative language, it truly is a masterpiece, and if you skip it, you are missing out on what could be the capstone of a prodigy composer’s career.
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If you missed them, also make sure to check out the top 25 individual songs of the year.