Best Recordings of 2004
Methods—First of all, there’s nothing I don’t like on this list, all the way down to Los Lobos. As people who make such lists often say, things could be placed differently on different days. As I was typing AIR at number 49, I thought that perhaps it could be higher. But if I were to be honest, I didn’t listen to it that much throughout the year. For me, that urge to listen to it figures in, and an album propelling an interest in an artist’s entire back catalog says something. I sort of group things by tens then weigh them against the things immediately around them. That way, I feel comfortable making an ordered list as opposed to the orderless ones I see here and there. Lists are subjective, but mine is best.
1. Modest Mouse—Good News for People Who Love Bad News
This would be one of those aforementioned ones that made me buy everything else by the artist. And everything else shows that this is the breakthrough album. They’ve always had a bit of a Pixies vibe but have added a Tom Waits element on this one. And it feels like on whole, best listened to at once. Their success is anomalous; it has made many dismiss them. Luckily, I don’t listen to radio much, but judging by the sold-out concert I attended, something about this album has resonated with a lot of people.
2. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds—Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus
I had a feeling this would be good, but of course had my reservations. Nocturama was a bit problematic—the Bad Seeds at their noisiest some moments and Nick at his sappiest the next (maybe “sappy” is not the right word, but he has a way of turning everything into a love song eventually). I worried that Blixa Bargeld had left. Both of these albums are quite strong, though. “Fable of the Brown Ape” shows how weird these albums can get, and hearing Nick use the word “Frappucino” is disconcerting. This is growth—amazing stuff.
3. Elliott Smith—From a Basement on the Hill
I’m happy to have this and am the kind of Elliott Smith fan who will buy whatever his estate releases. For me, this album doesn’t sound like a goodbye album pieced together by some friends, but instead an evolved step beyond Figure 8. After all, he had been working on it for a while, and it seems like he was a bit of a perfectionist. So don’t avoid this because of skepticism of post-death hype. It’s a balanced, well considered, finished album and is unfortunately (in the light of circumstances) possibly a career high.
4. Tom Waits—Real Gone
It honestly feels great to be able to put so many albums by so many of my favorite artists so high. It’s not automatic—P.J. Harvey is number 23. For someone who came in because of the inventiveness of Rain Dogs ands Swordfishtrombones, this album is a treat. Mule Variations was a bit weak; this album might even beat Bone Machine, though. Tom is using vocal tracks as percussion, and he’s stripped down his sound in a sense, with Mark Ribot’s guitar at the front and piano not present. Raw, original, timely yet out of time. This is what makes Tom Waits great.
5. Steve Earle—The Revolution Starts Now
I’m almost getting sick of writing about important Steve Earle albums. Around Transcendental Blues, this was the case. He was making undeniably strong albums, but they were getting a bit samey. Like a whole lot of us (I guess 49%), the past couple of years have given Earle something to be upset about, to say the least. I could have put the title track alone on repeat through November, but that would be to ignore things like the account of a truck driver recruited to deliver goods in Iraq (“Home to Houston”) or as the title aptly expresses, “F the CC.”
6. Mission of Burma—On Off On
My favorite era of music, early ‘80s post-punk, is enjoying something of a resurgence lately. Wire’s Send is almost as strong as anything of theirs, and Husker Du reunited for a show this year. And Mission of Burma came back like they never left. They ended things a little early, so perhaps there was some unfinished noise to make. Artsy, political, somewhat atonal (that’s a good thing); people just don’t tend to rock with this much urgency anymore.
7. Kanye West—The College Dropout
There’s nothing wrong with everyone loving Kanye West this year. I wouldn’t have expected to buy something from Jay-Z’s producer this year, but I also wouldn’t expect a song like “Jesus Walks” to be on it. Further, I wouldn’t expect to see him performing it on awards shows by the end of the year or having it up for several Grammys either. I hope he wins them all. The strengths here are the production and having something substantial and cohesive to say. There are a few too many skits, and there might be a weak track or two, but this is a long album.
8. Loretta Lynn—Van Lear Rose
Younger artists like Neko Case had already given her respect, but Jack White’s production both lets her do what she’d always done well and gives her a raw edginess at the same time. It’s more traditional country than White Stripes, though. It says almost as much for White as it does for Lynn. “Portland, Oregon” is one of the year’s best songs, but “Women’s Prison” and even the potentially hokey “High on a Mountain Top” let us know that we almost forgot about someone important.
9. Pedro the Lion—Achilles Heel
I get the feeling this is not on a lot of other lists. I have always loved Pedro the Lion. Their thematic albums were some of the most literary out there, but they were growing just a bit tiresome and occasionally lugubrious. This remedies that. There may be a theme, but if there is, it’s not at all obtrusive, and the tempos vary a bit, at least from earlier versions of the songs I’d heard. Not a Christian album for, well, not much of a Christian album except that you couldn’t deny that it is and that it in fact struggles with issues of meaning better than about any Christian artist I’ve heard.
10. Local H—Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles?
Chicago produces plenty of great music. We also seem to have an abundance of these “almost made it” artists who deserve so much more. The world should love Local H, and this album would be great evidence of why. I believe when I saw them about two years ago, they introduced the ten minute “Buffalo Trace” as “Neil Young Is Still the Coolest Mother F#@*er There Is,” which says something of the spirit of it. If Local H aren’t eventually huge, at least we can join them in saying, “Please no more California songs…and f#@k New York, too.”
11. Richard Buckner—Dents and Shells
Probably the worst show I saw this year was Richard Buckner with some odd effects pedals and one continuous string of his songs. I had already bought his new album earlier in the night and was afraid to put it in. The show, luckily, had nothing to do with the album, except perhaps this insistence on subverting forms. If you haven’t heard Buckner before, he started with fairly straightforward insurgent country/bluegrass but started writing more and more elliptical lyrics with strings of songs that were interconnected as one long conversation (a bit like that show I described). The albums became less country and more (for lack of a better term) indie rock. Maybe I missed the narrative thread here, but it seems a bit less like that and a bit more subdued.
12. Rilo Kiley—More Adventurous
I guess this band has a couple of child actors, but don’t let that scare you. Jenny, the primary vocalist, writes excellent lyrics and has a voice that is endearing and powerful. I miss this kind of pop music that there was so much of in the early 90s. One can hear a bit of Bright Eyes here as well (one-time label mates). There’s a bit of country, a lot of pop, and another one of those albums that made me feel like I needed to hear more of the band.
13. Califone—Heron King Blues
In an unexpected way, Califone (basically Red Red Meat) is at this point possibly the most important Chicago band from the early 90s—above Urge Overkill because they were so short-lived, above Smashing Pumpkins because they were limited by Billy Corgan, and above Liz Phair because she’s too sporadic and concerned with success. In contrast, Califone has made soundtracks for 50-year-old films with handmade Chinese packaging. Lately, they more into these experimental 70s grooves that can go on for ten minutes. This is not for everyone, but if you have an open mind, they can get under your skin.
14. Eyedea & Abilities—E&A
I wasn’t crazy about this at first, but after seeing them perform this year, I got it. I recognized Eyedea from a freestyle battle on HBO a couple of years back, which might lead one to think this could be gimmicky, but I promise you it is not. If battle rhymes can be clever but ill-considered, on this album especially, the emphasis is first on Abilities’ production (he sometimes scratches feedback—that’s cool), and second on Eyedea’s wordy if anything rhymes that work off such things as Slacker and Chasing Amy quotes. And yes, I bought First Born and Oliver Hart after becoming sold on this.
15. Luna—Rendezvous
Farewell to a band that meant a lot to me from late high school on (I’m including Galaxie 500). If the detached tone of Luna can make it seem like they’re not trying very hard sometimes, this was especially so on their last album, Romantica. Gladly, for this final album, there’s a bit of life for some reason. Oddly for so late in their career, guitarist Sean Eden steps to the forefront and even sings two songs. Maybe this and the nice Dean Wareham/Britta Phillips collaboration from last year give us some hope.
16. Wilco—A Ghost Is Born
Wilco heads don’t seem to appreciate this album so much, but as more of a Jay Farrar fan, I was impressed with this. Jeff Tweedy seems intent on doing something different every time, which is probably for the better considering they might have been destined for Black Crowes-like roots rock hell. Instead they introduce us to Neu, an offshoot of German pioneers Kraftwerk, who sometimes had a rhythm that intimated driving on the Autobahn. These songs are quiet and modest—not the stuff to indict the whole corporate recording industry.
17. Ghostface—The Pretty Toney Album
By this point, though not my favorite MC from the Wu-Tang Clan, Ghostface has shown himself to make the best albums among them. I don’t even hate his collaboration with Missy Elliott here, as I thought I might. Ghost seems to thrive off using 70s soul grooves, as he does in “Save Me Dear,” “It’s Over,” “Holla,” and any number of other songs here. And as I saw Quest say in an interview, he’s best when you have no idea what he’s talking about, and I often don’t.
18. Patti Smith—Trampin’
Maybe I should have put this higher. It’s underrated, and I think we’re starting to take for granted this second (or third?) stage of Patti Smith’s career. My favorite in this stage is Peace and Noise, and this one is probably behind it. We get oblique potilical references and long explorations like “Radio Baghdad.” Maybe this belongs right next to Steve Earle’s album.
19. The Roots—The Tipping Point
This is nowhere near as bad as you’ve heard it is. It’s probably got a couple of their best songs in their career, and I love the string of old school hardcore Black Thought songs. I guess for me, I could do with fewer or no R&B chorus songs, but the Roots are still beyond so many other groups and rap artists both.
20. John Frusciante—Will to Death, Inside of Emptiness
You probably won’t see any other artist do this. Though he’s seemed to be stalling at a couple of points (by releasing an EP for one and holding out a month for the final one), John Frusciante set out to release an album a month for six months. This is after releasing an album already earlier in the year (which would be my number 55). These two are the best, Will to Death being the quiet creepy one and Inside of Emptiness being the louder noisier. As I mentioned, there’s one more to be released, and I honestly have yet to hear “A Sphere in the Heart of Silence,” but one can only buy so many albums by an individual artist in a year.
21. Drive-By Truckers—The Dirty South
This should have been so much better. This group is amazing live, and the addition of a third songwriter made Decoration Day so amazing. Jason Isbell’s songs here show the anticipated growth, and Mike Cooley’s contributions are passably good. It seemed, though, that Patterson Hood was the primary songwriter, and his songs generally are what made the past two albums so remarkable. Buford Pusser doesn’t warrant one song, though, let alone two. Rehashing an old song, then, and writing a few middling, unmemorable songs is a let-down. We need more like “Puttin’ People on the Moon.”
22. Nas—Street’s Disciple
This is a cool late entry. As others have said, it didn’t need to be a double album, but at this point, Nas has way more credibility than Jay-Z. I was floored by the first couple of songs here—heck, the vast majority of the first CD. I had heard “Bridging the Gap” before, and there just isn’t anything else like that around. There couldn’t be a better built-in collaborator than his perhaps now-wife Kelis. There are just a few songs I could do without, though.
23. PJ Harvey—Uh Huh Her
Honestly, I have the same response a lot of people have had about this one—it seems a bit slight. In some ways, it’s rawer than anything she’s done in a while, but I loved Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea. She seems to be taking the Yeah Yeah Yeahs to heart, which I can appreciate, but she also brings a bit of that same lack of substance that they have here. Somehow this feels like a bit less than an album. But it’s PJ.
24. Mark Lanegan Band—Bubblegum
Mark Lanegan has always made good solo albums, and the Screaming Trees were one of the most underrated Seattle bands. His association with Queens of the Stone Age was good for both of them. All that collaboration, such as through the Desert Sessions, seems to give him some new ideas here. Mark’s solo albums have stayed within more folk bounds, but he brings in a bit of the Screaming Trees or QOTSA here.
25. Prince—Musicology
This is the return of Prince offering more accessible music, which is how we got to know him in the first place. I have no idea what some critics mean when they say that Prince is sort of covering himself. This is a strong collection of songs made by an expert band. Prince never went away but he certainly got so eccentric musically that he sometimes tried the patience of his fans. Seems like it was a good year for Prince, and this album was a good vehicle to reintroduce him to so many people.
26. Talib Kweli—The Beautiful Struggle
One of our best MCs makes a partially innovative album with a few cuts that don’t cut it.
27. Sonic Youth—Sonic Nurse
Sonic Youth continues one of modern rock’s strongest careers, which probably won’t show up on radio again.
28. Jean Grae—This Week
This is one of the most promising new MCs who still hasn’t made her breakthrough album yet.
29. TV on the Radio—Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes
What might be the best new band of the year (not Franz Ferdinand) produce an album with some of the best songs of the year but a few meandering moments.
30. Masta Killa—No Said Date
Masta Killa’s long overdue debut stays true to older Wu-Tang style.
31. Elvis Costello and the Imposters—The Delivery Man
A strong album (you’ll see it a lot higher on some lists) that is a good showcase for the band if not the best evidence of Elvis’ songwriting skills.
32. De La Soul—The Grind Date
De La return with a fairly unexpected sound; I just don’t happen to like it that much.
33. Madvillain—Madvillainy
In the tradition of Deltron 3030, an unholy collaboration between a cutting edge producer and a fluent MC.
34. Franz Ferdinand
I’d rather hear Interpol, but based on Antics’ reviews, I bought this one.
35. Mos Def—The New Danger
Not bad in the way that I expected, since Mos Def has been focusing on so many other things, but the weak moments, in their merely jamming, need to be more like the strong moments, bringing rap and rock together in a way so many have been unsuccessful at.
36. The Beastie Boys—To the 5 Boroughs
This made me feel like listening to the Beastie Boys again, but it also shows that they have never been good lyricists.
37. Bonnie Prince Billy—Sings Greatest Palace Music
This is an interesting experiment, and it’s always good, but it never exactly surpasses the originals.
38. Neko Case—The Tigers Have Spoken
Somehow Neko manages to sound more lively in her studio albums. Still, I’m glad this is largely new material and look forward to her album early next year.
39. RJD2—Since We Last Spoke
40. Mary Lou Lord—Baby Blue
41. Gift of Gab—4th Dimensional Rocketships Going Up
42. Brian Wilson—Smile
Beach Boys fans have been waiting a long time for this. I wouldn’t consider myself a Beach Boys fan, but this is some pretty incredible stuff in some places.
43. Of Montreal—Satanic Panic in the Attic
44. Eagles of Death Metal—Peace Love Death Metal
45. The Fiery Furnaces—Blueberry Boat
This is nothing else if not original. A bit demanding, but quite inventive (individual songs are movements of several songs that work fairly far outside of guitar rock).
46. Julianna Hatfield—In Exile Deo
47. Paul Westerberg—Folker
The opening song is so slight that it detracts from my appreciation of the rest of the album. I’m afraid he’s slipping back to his early solo albums doldrums.
48. Patterson Hood—Killers and Stars
Should have continued selling these at solo shows.
49. AIR—Talkie Walkie
50. Los Lobos—The Ride/Ride This
1. Modest Mouse—Good News for People Who Love Bad News
This would be one of those aforementioned ones that made me buy everything else by the artist. And everything else shows that this is the breakthrough album. They’ve always had a bit of a Pixies vibe but have added a Tom Waits element on this one. And it feels like on whole, best listened to at once. Their success is anomalous; it has made many dismiss them. Luckily, I don’t listen to radio much, but judging by the sold-out concert I attended, something about this album has resonated with a lot of people.
2. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds—Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus
I had a feeling this would be good, but of course had my reservations. Nocturama was a bit problematic—the Bad Seeds at their noisiest some moments and Nick at his sappiest the next (maybe “sappy” is not the right word, but he has a way of turning everything into a love song eventually). I worried that Blixa Bargeld had left. Both of these albums are quite strong, though. “Fable of the Brown Ape” shows how weird these albums can get, and hearing Nick use the word “Frappucino” is disconcerting. This is growth—amazing stuff.
3. Elliott Smith—From a Basement on the Hill
I’m happy to have this and am the kind of Elliott Smith fan who will buy whatever his estate releases. For me, this album doesn’t sound like a goodbye album pieced together by some friends, but instead an evolved step beyond Figure 8. After all, he had been working on it for a while, and it seems like he was a bit of a perfectionist. So don’t avoid this because of skepticism of post-death hype. It’s a balanced, well considered, finished album and is unfortunately (in the light of circumstances) possibly a career high.
4. Tom Waits—Real Gone
It honestly feels great to be able to put so many albums by so many of my favorite artists so high. It’s not automatic—P.J. Harvey is number 23. For someone who came in because of the inventiveness of Rain Dogs ands Swordfishtrombones, this album is a treat. Mule Variations was a bit weak; this album might even beat Bone Machine, though. Tom is using vocal tracks as percussion, and he’s stripped down his sound in a sense, with Mark Ribot’s guitar at the front and piano not present. Raw, original, timely yet out of time. This is what makes Tom Waits great.
5. Steve Earle—The Revolution Starts Now
I’m almost getting sick of writing about important Steve Earle albums. Around Transcendental Blues, this was the case. He was making undeniably strong albums, but they were getting a bit samey. Like a whole lot of us (I guess 49%), the past couple of years have given Earle something to be upset about, to say the least. I could have put the title track alone on repeat through November, but that would be to ignore things like the account of a truck driver recruited to deliver goods in Iraq (“Home to Houston”) or as the title aptly expresses, “F the CC.”
6. Mission of Burma—On Off On
My favorite era of music, early ‘80s post-punk, is enjoying something of a resurgence lately. Wire’s Send is almost as strong as anything of theirs, and Husker Du reunited for a show this year. And Mission of Burma came back like they never left. They ended things a little early, so perhaps there was some unfinished noise to make. Artsy, political, somewhat atonal (that’s a good thing); people just don’t tend to rock with this much urgency anymore.
7. Kanye West—The College Dropout
There’s nothing wrong with everyone loving Kanye West this year. I wouldn’t have expected to buy something from Jay-Z’s producer this year, but I also wouldn’t expect a song like “Jesus Walks” to be on it. Further, I wouldn’t expect to see him performing it on awards shows by the end of the year or having it up for several Grammys either. I hope he wins them all. The strengths here are the production and having something substantial and cohesive to say. There are a few too many skits, and there might be a weak track or two, but this is a long album.
8. Loretta Lynn—Van Lear Rose
Younger artists like Neko Case had already given her respect, but Jack White’s production both lets her do what she’d always done well and gives her a raw edginess at the same time. It’s more traditional country than White Stripes, though. It says almost as much for White as it does for Lynn. “Portland, Oregon” is one of the year’s best songs, but “Women’s Prison” and even the potentially hokey “High on a Mountain Top” let us know that we almost forgot about someone important.
9. Pedro the Lion—Achilles Heel
I get the feeling this is not on a lot of other lists. I have always loved Pedro the Lion. Their thematic albums were some of the most literary out there, but they were growing just a bit tiresome and occasionally lugubrious. This remedies that. There may be a theme, but if there is, it’s not at all obtrusive, and the tempos vary a bit, at least from earlier versions of the songs I’d heard. Not a Christian album for, well, not much of a Christian album except that you couldn’t deny that it is and that it in fact struggles with issues of meaning better than about any Christian artist I’ve heard.
10. Local H—Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles?
Chicago produces plenty of great music. We also seem to have an abundance of these “almost made it” artists who deserve so much more. The world should love Local H, and this album would be great evidence of why. I believe when I saw them about two years ago, they introduced the ten minute “Buffalo Trace” as “Neil Young Is Still the Coolest Mother F#@*er There Is,” which says something of the spirit of it. If Local H aren’t eventually huge, at least we can join them in saying, “Please no more California songs…and f#@k New York, too.”
11. Richard Buckner—Dents and Shells
Probably the worst show I saw this year was Richard Buckner with some odd effects pedals and one continuous string of his songs. I had already bought his new album earlier in the night and was afraid to put it in. The show, luckily, had nothing to do with the album, except perhaps this insistence on subverting forms. If you haven’t heard Buckner before, he started with fairly straightforward insurgent country/bluegrass but started writing more and more elliptical lyrics with strings of songs that were interconnected as one long conversation (a bit like that show I described). The albums became less country and more (for lack of a better term) indie rock. Maybe I missed the narrative thread here, but it seems a bit less like that and a bit more subdued.
12. Rilo Kiley—More Adventurous
I guess this band has a couple of child actors, but don’t let that scare you. Jenny, the primary vocalist, writes excellent lyrics and has a voice that is endearing and powerful. I miss this kind of pop music that there was so much of in the early 90s. One can hear a bit of Bright Eyes here as well (one-time label mates). There’s a bit of country, a lot of pop, and another one of those albums that made me feel like I needed to hear more of the band.
13. Califone—Heron King Blues
In an unexpected way, Califone (basically Red Red Meat) is at this point possibly the most important Chicago band from the early 90s—above Urge Overkill because they were so short-lived, above Smashing Pumpkins because they were limited by Billy Corgan, and above Liz Phair because she’s too sporadic and concerned with success. In contrast, Califone has made soundtracks for 50-year-old films with handmade Chinese packaging. Lately, they more into these experimental 70s grooves that can go on for ten minutes. This is not for everyone, but if you have an open mind, they can get under your skin.
14. Eyedea & Abilities—E&A
I wasn’t crazy about this at first, but after seeing them perform this year, I got it. I recognized Eyedea from a freestyle battle on HBO a couple of years back, which might lead one to think this could be gimmicky, but I promise you it is not. If battle rhymes can be clever but ill-considered, on this album especially, the emphasis is first on Abilities’ production (he sometimes scratches feedback—that’s cool), and second on Eyedea’s wordy if anything rhymes that work off such things as Slacker and Chasing Amy quotes. And yes, I bought First Born and Oliver Hart after becoming sold on this.
15. Luna—Rendezvous
Farewell to a band that meant a lot to me from late high school on (I’m including Galaxie 500). If the detached tone of Luna can make it seem like they’re not trying very hard sometimes, this was especially so on their last album, Romantica. Gladly, for this final album, there’s a bit of life for some reason. Oddly for so late in their career, guitarist Sean Eden steps to the forefront and even sings two songs. Maybe this and the nice Dean Wareham/Britta Phillips collaboration from last year give us some hope.
16. Wilco—A Ghost Is Born
Wilco heads don’t seem to appreciate this album so much, but as more of a Jay Farrar fan, I was impressed with this. Jeff Tweedy seems intent on doing something different every time, which is probably for the better considering they might have been destined for Black Crowes-like roots rock hell. Instead they introduce us to Neu, an offshoot of German pioneers Kraftwerk, who sometimes had a rhythm that intimated driving on the Autobahn. These songs are quiet and modest—not the stuff to indict the whole corporate recording industry.
17. Ghostface—The Pretty Toney Album
By this point, though not my favorite MC from the Wu-Tang Clan, Ghostface has shown himself to make the best albums among them. I don’t even hate his collaboration with Missy Elliott here, as I thought I might. Ghost seems to thrive off using 70s soul grooves, as he does in “Save Me Dear,” “It’s Over,” “Holla,” and any number of other songs here. And as I saw Quest say in an interview, he’s best when you have no idea what he’s talking about, and I often don’t.
18. Patti Smith—Trampin’
Maybe I should have put this higher. It’s underrated, and I think we’re starting to take for granted this second (or third?) stage of Patti Smith’s career. My favorite in this stage is Peace and Noise, and this one is probably behind it. We get oblique potilical references and long explorations like “Radio Baghdad.” Maybe this belongs right next to Steve Earle’s album.
19. The Roots—The Tipping Point
This is nowhere near as bad as you’ve heard it is. It’s probably got a couple of their best songs in their career, and I love the string of old school hardcore Black Thought songs. I guess for me, I could do with fewer or no R&B chorus songs, but the Roots are still beyond so many other groups and rap artists both.
20. John Frusciante—Will to Death, Inside of Emptiness
You probably won’t see any other artist do this. Though he’s seemed to be stalling at a couple of points (by releasing an EP for one and holding out a month for the final one), John Frusciante set out to release an album a month for six months. This is after releasing an album already earlier in the year (which would be my number 55). These two are the best, Will to Death being the quiet creepy one and Inside of Emptiness being the louder noisier. As I mentioned, there’s one more to be released, and I honestly have yet to hear “A Sphere in the Heart of Silence,” but one can only buy so many albums by an individual artist in a year.
21. Drive-By Truckers—The Dirty South
This should have been so much better. This group is amazing live, and the addition of a third songwriter made Decoration Day so amazing. Jason Isbell’s songs here show the anticipated growth, and Mike Cooley’s contributions are passably good. It seemed, though, that Patterson Hood was the primary songwriter, and his songs generally are what made the past two albums so remarkable. Buford Pusser doesn’t warrant one song, though, let alone two. Rehashing an old song, then, and writing a few middling, unmemorable songs is a let-down. We need more like “Puttin’ People on the Moon.”
22. Nas—Street’s Disciple
This is a cool late entry. As others have said, it didn’t need to be a double album, but at this point, Nas has way more credibility than Jay-Z. I was floored by the first couple of songs here—heck, the vast majority of the first CD. I had heard “Bridging the Gap” before, and there just isn’t anything else like that around. There couldn’t be a better built-in collaborator than his perhaps now-wife Kelis. There are just a few songs I could do without, though.
23. PJ Harvey—Uh Huh Her
Honestly, I have the same response a lot of people have had about this one—it seems a bit slight. In some ways, it’s rawer than anything she’s done in a while, but I loved Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea. She seems to be taking the Yeah Yeah Yeahs to heart, which I can appreciate, but she also brings a bit of that same lack of substance that they have here. Somehow this feels like a bit less than an album. But it’s PJ.
24. Mark Lanegan Band—Bubblegum
Mark Lanegan has always made good solo albums, and the Screaming Trees were one of the most underrated Seattle bands. His association with Queens of the Stone Age was good for both of them. All that collaboration, such as through the Desert Sessions, seems to give him some new ideas here. Mark’s solo albums have stayed within more folk bounds, but he brings in a bit of the Screaming Trees or QOTSA here.
25. Prince—Musicology
This is the return of Prince offering more accessible music, which is how we got to know him in the first place. I have no idea what some critics mean when they say that Prince is sort of covering himself. This is a strong collection of songs made by an expert band. Prince never went away but he certainly got so eccentric musically that he sometimes tried the patience of his fans. Seems like it was a good year for Prince, and this album was a good vehicle to reintroduce him to so many people.
26. Talib Kweli—The Beautiful Struggle
One of our best MCs makes a partially innovative album with a few cuts that don’t cut it.
27. Sonic Youth—Sonic Nurse
Sonic Youth continues one of modern rock’s strongest careers, which probably won’t show up on radio again.
28. Jean Grae—This Week
This is one of the most promising new MCs who still hasn’t made her breakthrough album yet.
29. TV on the Radio—Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes
What might be the best new band of the year (not Franz Ferdinand) produce an album with some of the best songs of the year but a few meandering moments.
30. Masta Killa—No Said Date
Masta Killa’s long overdue debut stays true to older Wu-Tang style.
31. Elvis Costello and the Imposters—The Delivery Man
A strong album (you’ll see it a lot higher on some lists) that is a good showcase for the band if not the best evidence of Elvis’ songwriting skills.
32. De La Soul—The Grind Date
De La return with a fairly unexpected sound; I just don’t happen to like it that much.
33. Madvillain—Madvillainy
In the tradition of Deltron 3030, an unholy collaboration between a cutting edge producer and a fluent MC.
34. Franz Ferdinand
I’d rather hear Interpol, but based on Antics’ reviews, I bought this one.
35. Mos Def—The New Danger
Not bad in the way that I expected, since Mos Def has been focusing on so many other things, but the weak moments, in their merely jamming, need to be more like the strong moments, bringing rap and rock together in a way so many have been unsuccessful at.
36. The Beastie Boys—To the 5 Boroughs
This made me feel like listening to the Beastie Boys again, but it also shows that they have never been good lyricists.
37. Bonnie Prince Billy—Sings Greatest Palace Music
This is an interesting experiment, and it’s always good, but it never exactly surpasses the originals.
38. Neko Case—The Tigers Have Spoken
Somehow Neko manages to sound more lively in her studio albums. Still, I’m glad this is largely new material and look forward to her album early next year.
39. RJD2—Since We Last Spoke
40. Mary Lou Lord—Baby Blue
41. Gift of Gab—4th Dimensional Rocketships Going Up
42. Brian Wilson—Smile
Beach Boys fans have been waiting a long time for this. I wouldn’t consider myself a Beach Boys fan, but this is some pretty incredible stuff in some places.
43. Of Montreal—Satanic Panic in the Attic
44. Eagles of Death Metal—Peace Love Death Metal
45. The Fiery Furnaces—Blueberry Boat
This is nothing else if not original. A bit demanding, but quite inventive (individual songs are movements of several songs that work fairly far outside of guitar rock).
46. Julianna Hatfield—In Exile Deo
47. Paul Westerberg—Folker
The opening song is so slight that it detracts from my appreciation of the rest of the album. I’m afraid he’s slipping back to his early solo albums doldrums.
48. Patterson Hood—Killers and Stars
Should have continued selling these at solo shows.
49. AIR—Talkie Walkie
50. Los Lobos—The Ride/Ride This
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