Best Albums 2011

You may have noticed that I didn’t post last year and you’ll certainly notice that this year’s write up will be substantially shorter than previous lists. My life has become busier but not in a way that’s made me a better person. It’s mostly consisted of work, discovering Netflix streaming, ensuring my back doesn’t paralyze me and trying to keep a determined squirrel out of my apartment. You are awesome squirrel, but you just get into too many of my snacks. Anyways, I’m back this year with one caveat. I’m finally giving in and just doing a simple Top Ten (Twelve) list instead of my tiers. As usual, I fully let my bias take over while ranking these albums and make no claims to be a real critic.

12) Freddie Gibbs: Cold Day in Hell

Most people laugh and think I’m joking when I express my love for Freddie Gibbs. Yes, he’s a gangsta rapper from Midwest murder capital Gary, Indiana with some of the hardest beats in the genre. He sounds like Tupac, flows like Scarface and I’m into all of it. Signed by Interscope in 2009, Gibbs was dropped before being even able to put out a single album. It’s easy to see how a major label didn’t know what to do with Gibbs. While the surface screams mainstream, the depth of his lyrics makes Gangsta Gibbs tough to crossover to the general public. Cold Day in Hell documents stories of his early-twenties of him hustling and starving to survive.

On “My Homeboy’s Girlfriend”, Gibbs narratives details of an affair he’s having with the girlfriend of an incarcerated friend. Instead of bragging that he’s banging this girl, Gibbs confesses that he’s fearful and guilt ridden by his actions and eventually it ends with a murder suicide. The songs finest album “Rob Me a Nigga” could have been the theme song for the Wire if it was still making new seasons. Gibbs gives a University like lecture on how poverty and envy influences the poor to rob and steal from former friends with the justification that if you don’t, they will. Now signed by Young Jeezy’s label, Gibbs seems to have the security to release anything he wants. If future releases are anything like Cold Day in Hell, I may have found my new favorite rapper.

11) EMA: Past Life of Martyred Saints

Erika M. Anderson has made the only album that I can’t really imagine listening to with anybody else. It’s a fierce and courageous album that could have only been written by a tormented soul. This is a heavy album, but that’s not to say it’s depressing. Past Life is filled with diary-like entries of a 20-something overcoming an oppressive past and vowing to not let history repeat itself. Anderson’s true strength is the ability to take the familiar tales of a substance user, self-abuser, and abuse victim, and dressing them with instrumentations that echo and cry true agony, while still treating this suffering with dignity.

Each songs sounds different, “The Grey Ship” switches styles three times in seven minutes, “California” features Anderson ranting with an almost improvisational style, “Coda” is a one minute A-Capella, and closer “Red State” features the album’s only guitar solo; but what they have in common is the ability to convey a sense of miserableness that hits you like a cold slap in the face.

10) Eleneor Friedberger: Last Summer

For someone who doesn’t pay as much attention to words as he should, it may be surprising that an album all about words ranks so highly. Breaking from her Fiery Furnaces past, Friedberger first solo album is all about personal stories revolving around relationships, loneliness and New York City to share. Opener “My Mistakes” has her reliving past immediately and admitting “I thought he let me in one last time.” The next track “Inn of the Seventh Ray” has her quirkiest lyrics of the album “Watching Footloose with the biggest bottle of vodka in the world” only she sounds more sad than amused.

“One Month Marathon” has her coming to terms with the end of a relationship and proclaiming, “For my last ensemble, I will be wearing nothing at all.” Unlike the Fiery Furnaces, the music of Last Summer is purely a beautiful backdrop to Friedberger’s soft vocals. For an album that uses New York City as a backdrop, she makes it sound so small and simple and the evidence is that I actually know them.

9) Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks: Mirror Traffic

What a difference a few years and Beck can make. Though Beck produced this album, it doesn’t really sound like he provided more than a gentle touch. However, if Beck’s the one who convinced Malkmus to stop his lazy guitar solos that plagued Emotional Trash, and to go back to his Pavement roots then I love him even more. Malkmus may be considered ancient in the music scene, but there’s never a sense of nostalgia listening to his work. Unlike an old friend who pops into my life every now and feeling obligated to catch up, I still anxiously wait for each new Malkmus release 12 years after discovering Pavement. The reason is Malkmus’ willingness to evolve while subtly staying within his comfort zone.

Mirror Traffic is focused, concise, and has the sense of humor I expect from indie rocks coolest dad. Malkmus intimately describes how growing old doesn’t mean you need to lose the goofiness and spontaneity that you relied on to get you through life thus far. While the album is filled with great hooks, there are certain standouts such as “Senator” and “Brain Gallop” that each end with the zany guitar solos that I’ve come to love from Malkmus. As chaotic as those songs sound, there are an equal number of quieter moments on the album that may be even more satisfying. “Asking Price” and “Fall away” are a nice change for Malkmus, allowing him to showcase a gentler side of his vocals. The prettiest song goes to “Stick Figures in Love”, a summertime poppy-almost Belle & Sebastian – tune with a wordless chorus. I don’t know how to end this so I’ll leave it with the best example of classic Malkmus’ lyrics “I cannot even do one sit-up, sit-ups are so bourgeoise.”

8) 8) Destroy: Kaputt

As much as I’ve always liked Destroyer, I’ve had a hard time listening to their albums start to finish without focused effort. They decided to make this album much simpler for me to enjoy by making an 80s easy listening. Clean guitars, saxophone solos, clarinets and I’m pretty sure multiple flutes fill this album. As great as all the instruments sound, the real standout is Dan Bejar’s vocals and lyrics. I don’t know whether to call him a poetic genius or call him on bullshit. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but the way he talks about it makes sense to me. I know exactly what he’s trying to convey and what it means to him.

Take “Suicide Demo for Kara Walker”, the lyrics were actually written by Kara Walker, the African American artist who is best known for using black cut-paper silhouettes to explore gender and race issues. The story is that Kara Walker gave Bejar text, which he then put on cue cards, and started singing the ones that seemed most viable to him. What became of that are lines like “Is it still the invisible man you’re consorting with, Woman?” and “And as proud Americans, we let it slide away/Harmless little Negress, You’ve got to say yes”. Kaputt is filled with intricate stories masked by bad poetry with a backdrop of the least confrontational music ever created.

7) St. Vincent: Strange Mercy

This is getting silly. One person should not be this fantastic. Everything she touches and does turns to gold. From starting in The Polyphonic Spree, to joining Sufjan Stevens band, and then becoming a badass solo artist, Annie Clark should not even be the same species as the rest of us. I joke about man-crushes with Ryan Gosling, but what I feel for her is true love. She’s an insanely gifted musician, poised live performer, funny story tell plus it doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful. Getting back to music though, the truly impressive thing about her is that not only is each album better than the previous, but they’re each a giant leap forward.

Clark is becoming louder and more confident with each release. On Strange Mercy, she seems to be singing more from the gut than her head. Where prior albums seemed to showcase the beauty and delicacy of her voice, she now allows it to be part of the overall music. She’s using her voice as an instrument as much that plays off the guitar instead of it being front and center. This works because the music and arrangements are chaotic enough where their vocals seem perfect as an added layer. No song ends up being what they initially appear to be. “Cheerleader” starts as a subtle confessional with Clark being more frank than usual stating ”I’ve had good times with some bad guys. I’ve told whole lies with a half smile” until the distorted chorus comes with Clark declaring “I, I, I, I, I don’t want to be a cheerleader no more.” As sweet as Clark appears, she’s got as much aggression as the next person. “Surgeon” is a perfect example of this. Her strong, clear voice sings the dark words of “best, finest surgeon, come cut me open” until the song break downs and eventually turns into a synth freak out with Clark shredding on the guitar.

This as a whole seems to sum up Annie Clark and more specifically Strange Mercy. What appears initially as pretty and sweet eventually turns into a darker universe with complex feelings of sex, violence and coercion. When her voice is tired of expressing her feelings, Clark can just as easily let her guitar do the talking.

6) Drake: Take Care

He was on Degrassi! He’s Canadian! He can’t rap! He uses too much R&B! Those are all reactions that I usually receive when I tell people how much I love Drake, and especially Take Care. Coincidentally, those are the same things that I cannot describe the immense amount of not giving a fuck I have. While some may say he panders to the masses, it’s that very desire to please everybody that makes Drake so impressive. If I want a club jam (I don’t go to clubs, but just want to know what the young kids listen to) I can play “Headlines” or “Take Care” to get my fix. If I want something to remind myself that he’s cool with the hipster crowd, I’ve got “Crew Love” which features none other than the Weeknd. “Under Ground Kings”, We’ll Be Fine”, and “Lord Knows” are songs I use as examples to show that he indeed can rap and is much improved since his mixtape days.

For someone who doesn’t listen to the radio, I was stunned to learn how much airtime my personal favorite “Marvin’s Room” received. This fact made me realize the immensity of Drake’s popularity. Sure I knew that the young kids loved Drizzy (On Christmas Day, I may have bonded with my 19 year old cousin over Take Care listening sessions) and that some of my friends could tolerate him, but for the public to listen to Marvin’s Room on a consistent bases? I can’t imagine another artist aside from Kanye, who could make such an emotionally stunning, slow tempo, drunk-dialed anthem and have that be a hit single in America. At close to 80 minutes long, Take Care showcases Drake’s desire to be everything to everyone, and that’s what makes him so necessary today’s hip-hop world.

5) Cut Copy: Zonoscope

Cut Copy make no apologies for who they are. Bunch of very white Australians who wear fancy clothing, apply thick coats of sunscreen to not burn at outdoor festivals, and try to make keyboards seem cool. They succeed in every imaginable way, including in not getting sun burnt. As they continue making music, they have strayed away from the guitar-electro pop and really have just become an electro pop band. In general, I usually don’t like when bands do that, but with Zonoscope, they do it right and it shuts me up.

First track “Need You Now” is one of my favorite songs of the year. It’s the perfect club and pop song. It builds slowly, creates tension and then erupts after 4 minutes with Whitford’s scream. 15 minute closer “Sun God” bashes you over immediately, and then halfway through suddenly puts you in a trance. Don’t listen to it while tired, you will probably zone out and almost hit a car….I mean, I imagine that could happen. The album balances off with subtle tracks like “This is All We’ve Got” find the band showcasing a little introspectiveness. Overall, I know Zonoscope will hold up even if it’s lacking the immediateness of In Ghost Colours. The craftsmanship is what wins out on this album and gives me the impression that they’ll be around for quite awhile. Side note – these guys bring it live. I wasn’t joking when they actually succeed in making keyboards seem cool. Never before has pressing of the keys made me want to get down and sweaty like I have at their shows.

4) James Blake: James Blake

I was late to the James Blake bandwagon until this July when I saw him perform live in Chicago. Just like any relationship, timing can be everything. Originally, I crossed him off dubstep producer, albeit a great one, but still just a producer. Until I saw him perform, I truly didn’t realize that young man was also a gifted songwriter. After seeing his craftsmanship live, I listened to his album on repeat driving back from Chicago. I’m being literal here, it’s the only album I listened on the entire drive (minus a podcast break). It’s also possible that having also just ended a most likely unhealthy relationship may have had something to do with it, but regardless, I repeatedly listened to this on that long drive. James Blake is infectious and minimal, but far from simple. He’s is a genius when it comes to constructing something beautiful from incompatible parts.

Blake changes his voice just enough to make it part of the music. “I Never Learnt to Share” has him looping his vocals over and over the lines “My brother and my sister don’t speak to me/ But I don’t blame them” throughout the five minute song. The track eerily progresses, first incorporating synth, then drums and a hint of guitar until you’re suddenly knocked over the head with bass that shakes the foundation of your house. Album closer “Measurements” also utilizes layered harmonies, but to a completely different effect. Instead of building up to something, the song perfectly matches Southern black gospel vocals (Yes, I know he’s a very white guy from London) with an empty space and the occasional bass line, radiating a sense of warmth not usually associated with such production. Lindesfarne I and II is the album’s centerpiece. Somehow Blake manages to use the bare minimum of dubstep to create a folk ballad with aching vocals. While the lyrics are seemingly random, they convey an emotion that essentially anybody can relate to.

This ultimately is something I did not think Blake could do and why I wrote him off before really listening to what he had to offer. I’m thankful that laziness forced me to stay at his stage on that hot afternoon in Chicago and I'm thankful I was finally smart enough to walk away from a bad situation. Those two factors combined allowed me to discover an album unlike any other.

3) Handsome Furs: Sound Kapital

It’s important to note that this is my personal list and I’m not a music critic. I do my best to stay away from statements like “this is their best album since…” I’m stating this because there’s absolutely no way Sound Kapital is really the third best album of the year, but it’s most certainly my third most favorite album. Second to Ryan Gosling, Dan Boeckner is my man-crush. Look back to my 2009 list, and I was in love with him then. After talking to him for five minutes about just Pho after their last show at the Triple Rock, it’s not even a joke. I’ve got a serious crush on him.

Sound Kapital changed my view on what I believed to be the purpose of Handsome Furs. As much as I read that this wasn’t a side project of Boeckner, Handsome Furs always kind of sounded like leftover or stripped down songs that didn’t make his much more recognized band, Wolf Parade. Sound Kapital put to bed any of those naïve thoughts.

Starting with opener, “When I Get Back”, the lack of guitars immediately caught my intention. In fact, there are almost none of Boeckner’s distinguished guitar riffs on any song of the nine songs. Instead, it’s replaced with synths and drum machines and sounds a lot like a professional modern electro-pop band. The music may have changed but the songs contain the same intensity that Boeckner brings to everything he writes. Inspired by a trip to the Burma, lyrics such as “When I get back/I won’t be the same now more” and “I’ve seen the future/I will never be repatriated” come from a perspective of those who struggle just to survive. Boeckner along with his wife, Alexei Perry, seemed to have fully matured on their third album and I see them making music for the long haul. Sound Kapital is the most urgent and energetic album I’ve heard this year.

2) Real Estate: Days

If this Minnesota winter hasn’t been so warm, I’d make some lame statement about how Days been keeping me warm and dreaming of a summer day. Instead I’ll say that sophomore album from the quartet from New Jersey has made an album that just makes you sit back and relax without any sort of care. Real Estate isn’t a band that will stray too far from what it’s good at and that’s creating simple, spacey tunes with lyrics about growing up in suburbia. The difference between their debut and Days is that now Real Estate is a little older and wiser, leading to a perfection of their distinct sound. Singer Martin Courtney’s openings lines of “Back when we had it so easy/I would surrender completely” let’s you immediately know they’re not the same kids who once wrote a six minute song that only contained the words “Budweiser, Sprite, Do you feel alright?”

The beauty of Days is that on the surface it exudes ease, but underneath it contains some of the most technical music of 2011. Personal favorite “Out of Tune” is a perfect representation of how something so little goes so far. The clean, airy, reverb notes disguise the complexity just enough that I can actually picture myself laying in a hammock, and I’ve actually never been in a hammock – it’s that good. Combine this with Courtney’s sighing vocals and knack for melodies; you can’t help but to feel all warm and fuzzy. Days won’t win the most ambitious album of the year award, and that’s just fine, sometimes I need music that I can just enjoy.

1) The Weeknd: House of Balloons

Ranking albums is always much easier when there’s a clear number one for me. If I have to think too long about who deserves the number top spot, did they really deserve it? Fortunately for me I knew what would be the best album of the year since March. It was House of Balloons’ title to lose and no other album ever came close to knocking it off. I knew nothing of Abel Tesfaye, stage name The Weekend, prior to hitting play for the first time. Truthfully, I still really don’t know much about him besides the fact that he’s an Ethiopian-Canadian R&B artist who was born in the 90s and loves giving his music away for free. Oh and the lyrics lead me to believe he’s both in love and despises sex and drugs.

Rarely do I remember where I am when I hear an album for the first time. It’s most likely because I’m just sitting at my computer multitasking, or a better bet is that I don’t listen to an album in one play anymore (sadly). However, I know exactly what I was doing when I first heard this masterpiece. It was 11:30 pm on a cold Thursday night at the end of March and I was walking back from having a couple drinks after attending the 18th Pro-Choice bowl-a-thon at Bryant Lake Bowl. This would normally be a 15-minute walk, but once the chorus kicked in from the first track “High For This”, I knew I wasn’t stepping into my apartment until the album was done. I wandered throughout the city completely baffled by what my ears were hearing.

There are definitely better singers than Tesfaye, and even better songwriters, but I haven’t heard an R&B album that’s paid so much attention to its atmosphere and mood. On the surface, Balloons is filled with subtle music samples (Aaliyah, Beach House), car rattling bass lines, and conceited lyrics about sex and drugs that usually limit R&B from truly ever fully crossing over to a new audience. Hidden within it is a consistent theme of a dark, solemn, gritty life of excess. The album’s suspended in contradiction - sex jams filled with diary entries about hating endless sex. “The Party and the After Party” has Tesfaye freely admitting that he only wants his girl when he’s coming down from a high, while on “Wicked Games” he’s pleading “Just tell me you love me/I’ll give you what I need/ I’ll give you all of me/Even though you don’t love me.“ As haunting as the album can sound, it’s important to remember just how damn good this album sounds. Title track “House of Balloons” will be on every dance mixed cd I make for the next give years, and there’s two 6 minute epic jam songs that has Tesfaye tiptoeing on that line between rapping/singing/improvising. According to iTunes I’ve listened and sung catchy chorus of “The Morning” 92 times, more than any other song this year. If you want to see an Asian dude who works in corporate America singing, “All that money, the money is the motive/All that money, the money she be foldin/Girl put in work, girl put in work” just play “The Morning” and I guarantee I’ll appear in seconds, like the kool-aid man. The Weeknd’s debut is accessible in every way, and I truly can’t stop listening to it nine months later.