I’m amazed that, despite this site now featuring five different writers, there’s still plenty of items on year-end lists that we disagree about, or that are loved so dearly by some and only held lukewarmly by others. I knew Bon Iver’s release was bound to hit many of the charts, but I’m happy to see that my top 10 doesn’t overlap too closely with anyone else’s, at this point. So let’s get to it — here are my favorite albums of 2011:
10. Jay-Z/Kanye West — Watch the Throne: There was so much buzz surrounding this album since summer 2010 that there was no way it could live up to the hype. But if you can get that past that, and more importantly, past the stomach-churning displays of wealth and materialism, there’s something at the heart of this album that speaks to the uncertainty and insecurity that’s a part of everyone’s life, whether you can barely make rent or you’re “planking on a million.” I wish the moniker of The Throne (used off and on around the release of this album) had stuck, as the pair together are undeniably a powerful force in- and outside of hip-hop. I, for one, welcome our new overlords Jay and ‘Ye. [Full review]
9. The Rural Alberta Advantage — Departing: It came to me recently that the RAA’s lead singer, Nils Edenloff, has the voice I’d least expect to like so much. The descriptors are all negative: nasally, untrained, even a little grating… Then what makes him so charming? Much like Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum, Edenloff puts his flaws front and center, and with the amount of energy the rest of the band puts behind him, it’s impossible not to get swept up in the songs. Drummer Paul Banwatt is a standout figure, producing sixteenth and thirty-second notes at such a frenzied speed you’d think it’d be tough for a machine to keep up. Departing doesn’t quite have the emotional highs and lows of the RAA’s debut, Hometowns, but it’s ups and downs explore more musically. Closer “Good Night” is a satisfying end to the album, and finally proves that the group can write a song that’s longer than four minutes.
8. Little Dragon — Ritual Union: A strange outfit, combining elements of R&B, electronic, and pop, Little Dragon only entered my consciousness last year with guest spots on Gorillaz’ Plastic Beach. Ritual Union, their third album, kicks off with the stellar title track questioning the benefits of marriage. The lyrics throughout grow more esoteric, culminating in “When I Go Out,” the album’s longest (and most challenging) song, which finds singer Yukimo Nagano’s voice, heavily distorted, “let[ting her] armor fall,” and “walk[ing] through the door” — a metaphorical exit, but not before actual closer “Seconds,” a literal ticking clock in musical form. It all wraps up highly unresolved, but an ending that also feels most true to life — going on, never reaching a perfect closure.
7. tUnE-YaRdS — w h o k i l l: T.J.’s written about tUnE-YaRdS, and Merrill Garbus specifically, before, and more eloquently than I could, he having been a fan for much longer than I… And seeing as his top 10 is coming tomorrow, and w h o k i l l is almost destined for a top three (I’m calling it now!), I’ll keep it short here, and just say that the prominence of sax on this album makes it for me. Bari especially! The whole work is weird, unlike anything else out there, but passionate and joyful, and a great album.
6. Handsome Furs — Sound Kapital: I didn’t expect to be so wowed by Dan Boeckner of Wolf Parade this year, especially in comparison to former bandmate Spencer Krug’s 2011 effort, Organ Music Not Vibraphone Like I’d Hoped. Maybe I’ve made too big a deal out of the collaborator/rival nature of these two and should let it rest, but I can’t help but think about them in relation to each other. As co-leaders of one of my favorite bands, Wolf Parade, and in individual and side projects, their work consistently impresses me. But Handsome Furs eked it out over Krug/Moonface this year, with a Soviet-inspired work detailing the differences and similarities between North America and Russia. The album also questions the nature of home and self (especially in “When I Get Back” and “Repatriated”), while producing a fuller sound than ever previously realized by Handsome Furs. [Full review]
5. Panda Bear — Tomboy: Continuing the trend of side projects growing to command my attention as much as main, Panda Bear’s Tomboy is as good as, and better than many Animal Collective albums (and, it should be added, significantly better than Avey Tare’s Down There). Tomboy is poppier than 2007′s Person Pitch, the tracks conspicuously less epic and more radio-friendly, but equally as heartfelt and definitely more approachable. Awash in sounds as usual, Panda Bear’s audio exploration starts with layered, choir vocals (all him) in “You Can Count On Me,” and ends with the foggy, sweeping “Benfica.” In between is a collection of songs extolling the virtues of nothing more than liking things, of being involved — distancing one’s self from ironic detachment and actually feeling. Much like his obvious contributions to Animal Collective’s 2009 masterpiece Merriweather Post Pavilion, this album is 100% genuine, prescriptive of how humans are meant to feel and live their lives — to the fullest extent.
4. Battles — Gloss Drop: What Battles lost in Ty Braxton, they made up for in a cadre of guest vocalists on Gloss Drop. Beginning with Matias Aguayo on “Ice Cream,” the steady trio pulls in weirdos from Yamantaka Eye to Gary Numan, but the vocals are never at the foreground of what’s going on. Musically diverse in style and structure (“Toddler” and “Dominican Fade” are both under two minutes), the album’s best moments (or at least the ones that have grown on me the most) are those that are unstructured, improvisational grooves that the instrumentalists get into and allow themselves to explore. [Full review]
3. St. Vincent — Strange Mercy: I was fortunate enough to see St. Vincent at the Walker Art Center in October, just after the release of this album (and yes, I’m sorry I didn’t bring you photos or a review then). Though it was a great show, this is the sort of album that’s hard to live up to in performance — production is impeccable, and there’s atmospheric touches throughout the album that can’t be captured in one space. Matt got it right in his review when he described Annie Clark as “com[ing] from a long line of… musical sadists” — the album covers pain and suffering in plenty, though mainly of the mental and emotional nature, rather than physical. And yet, its moments of reprieve (see, say, the album’s title) prove that there is much more to St. Vincent than an outlet for rage and anguish — Strange Mercy allows for, and embraces comfort and ease, though never in the traditional senses of the words.
2. Bon Iver — Bon Iver: As anticipated and hyped as any sophomore album could be (particularly following Justin Vernon’s guest spot on Kanye West’s 2010 album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy), Bon Iver’s eponymous work somehow managed not only to meet, but to exceed most critical expectations. A resounding, chilling meditation on place, Bon Iver remains as inscrutable to me now as it did on its release six months ago — and I mean that in a good way. The lyrics are deliberately vague and hard-to-pin-down, but coupled with the arrangements and unexpected instrumentation (bass saxophone on “Minnesota, WI”!), it all becomes indicative of the complexity of place and home — score one for the upper Midwest. [Full review]
1. Emmy the Great — Virtue: I’ve been disappointed at the lack of recognition Emmy the Great has received for this outstanding album. Since first entering the scene in 2009, her work’s managed to come across as clever and pithy, intellectual and poetic, emotional and bittersweet — a remarkable range. Her language is distinctly Brit-folk (her closest contemporary musical neighbor being Laura Marling), though the instrumentation on Virtue exceeds that of her debut, First Love. Listening to it time and again, what I’m most captured by is the delicate balance between literature/references to external culture and unique experience, filtered through a songwriter. “Trellick Tower” best exemplifies this, describing a stark, Brutalist tower in fairy tale terms. It’s personal memories and stories taking over aesthetics or function, and creating art from the juxtaposition. It’s about experiencing the world, and in doing so, making it your own. [Full review]
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