Albums 50 –
41

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50.
Saule: Saule (Sub Rosa)
I’ve
been asked to describe this album to several people and the best I could ever
come up with was, sadly, this: “Imagine the sluggish old worn vinyl feel of the
instrumental pieces from the last half of the cLOUDDEAD debut and soak them
in layers of worn vinyl static and even slower moving backgrounds.” To
be even more succinct, it’s a forty minute head-fuck that moves at the speed
of the snail with the aural force of an avalanche. For better or for worse,
that’s about as good as I can do.

49. Detective
Kalita: The Night We Ate the Cake (Kelp)
The
whole idea of concept protagonist(s) has always annoyed me, but Detective
Kalita, despite their gimmicky “image,” have pieced together a collection
of tight Stephen Malkmus-meets-Will Johnson tunes, never letting their namesake
(a smooth-operating sleuth) actually be anything besides a campy addition
to the liner notes, unlike, for example, The Gorillaz. There’s some filler
(what I suppose are the indie rock equivalent of skits, mostly, even if they
are set to short, farcical music) that hinders the momentum of the record,
but it’s still a promising release that manages to feel like a long-lost mix
tape without also feeling like a derivative, unorganized mess.

48.
Ulrich Schnauss: A Strangely Isolated Place (City Center Offices)
There’s
a lot of “if only” on this list and I guess it begins here. Ulrich
starts the album with a triplet of overwhelmingly good songs, only to let
the record practically dismantle with “Clear Day” and then crudely
rebuild to a climax consisting of a bunch of tracks that all sound like they
were written to end the album but since he couldn’t decide, he just used them
all. The frustrating part being that even though the album’s opening duo (“Gone
Forever” and “On My Own”) are some of the least “challenging” material he’s produced, it’s also by far the most affecting (naturally, the
Jonsi impersonation doesn’t hurt). As it stands, it’s rather front-loaded,
but still a highly recommended listen.

47.
Animal Collective: Here Comes the Indian (Paw Tracks)
I
once referred to Bjork as being “alien music,” but if she is, then
she’d be the safe mainstream to Animal Collective’s psychedelic and tribal
experimentations; Here Comes the Indian is a musical puzzle pieced
together in the wrong order, full of sporadic stops and starts; screaming
and chanting; switching constantly between walls of noise to beautiful ambience.
Voices sound like they’re singing under water, through rotary fans and from
miles away, yet often seem vanilla compared to their surrounding ambience.
Animal Collective is primarily a tribal form of music and therefore based
far more in rhythm and texture than actual melody or structure, which is a
good thing, because the album overflows with the former and is seemingly oblivious
to the latter; shoot a Beatles tune at them and they probably wouldn’t know
what to make of it.

46.
The
Clientele: The Violet Hour (Merge)
Beautiful,
but also frustratingly listless, The Violet Hour is like any other “mood music;” its greatest attributes when you’re in the right mood
become its biggest flaws when you’re not. In this case, the monotony of the
songwriting (all of which inhabit a strong Beatles influence) and Alasdair
MacLean’s hushed whisper of a voice are captivating when you’re in that “saccharin
music with whispery vocals” kind of mood, but more often than not, The
Violet Hour finds me bored and wanting to hear its title track once more
before opting for something a tad more, for lack of a better word, “involving.”

45.
Mountaineers: Messy Century (Mute)
It’d
be lazy to call the Welsh-born Mountaineers a Beta Band-lite with a folk-rock
heart, though it’s still hard to shake the fundamental qualities both bands
share; the penchant for writing pop hooks with clever twists, inventive production
and the inability to decide exactly where they want their albums to go; also,
in both cases, the albums start to lag when the focus moves from the progression
underneath to the production. Sometimes the record leans a little too much
toward the pop spectrum (“All My Life,” for instance; “I Gotta
Sing,” on the other hand, balances the record’s two dynamics perfectly),
but all told, Messy Century is a promising debut.

44.
Lightning Bolt: Wonderful Rainbow (Load)
There’s
really no way I’d be able to put this album into words better than Amir’s
review, but I suppose I
should say why this album makes my top fifty, even if just barely so: It’s
stubbornly loud, obnoxious rock constructed with just a drumset, vocals and
a bass, though at times, Brian Gibson is able to make his string instrument
sound like a broken synth pouring out presets designed by Satan himself. Well
that, and “Dracula Mountain” is still one of the best songs I heard
all year. Too bad the rest of Wonderful Rainbow isn’t nearly as perfect.

43.
Basement
Jaxx: Kish Kash (XL)
Kish
Kash is, for all intents and purposes, just more of the same; those spouting
it as a new corner for the band or a huge step up were just simply not listening
before, probably too busy finding faults to just give in and enjoy it. This
album is first & foremost great fun and that’s all Basement Jaxx have
ever aimed for and though I don’t buy the “people who don’t like this
don’t like to have fun” argument that also has seemed to have been stuck
to the Darkness (one of the year’s most horrible bands? Absolutely), it’s
ridiculous to think that anyone would’ve gone into this album and felt disappointed
unless they were expecting something from it that the Jaxx have never been
about.

42.
The
Exploding Hearts: Guitar Romantic (Dirtnap)
Much
has been written of the untimely death of all but one member of the Exploding
Hearts when their touring van flipped earlier this year, and it’s clear as
to why so many were disappointed to hear the news (you know, apart from the
actual “death” thing) –their debut (and, unfortunately, swan song) is a wonderful
piece of power-pop that kicks the shit out of pretty much every “similar” album of the past few years. The production is stripped down to bare essential
like that of their idols, and their songwriting clearly takes a page from
an era of music based around a rebellion based as much around a failure to
conform to societal norms (like good album covers) as it did to the stagnant
MOR tripe clouding popular airwaves. The Exploding Hearts hit
2003 with a lasting mark, even if it’ll always be confined to this one album
and clouded with missed opportunity.

41.
Dizzee Rascal: Boy in Da Corner (XL)
I
wasn’t really sure what I thought of Dizzee until “I Luv U” and
“Fix Up Look Sharp” started to violently drill their way into my
subconscious to the point where I was screaming the chorus of “Fix Up”
(making up the words that come after its title since I still have no fucking
clue what he’s saying) for days, confusing the bejesus of those unfortunate
enough to hear. I’ve never cared much for the “don’t fuck with me” image he’s building for himself, but really if a teenager can come up with
something this original, it’s easy to overlook that in nearly every other
aspect, he’s walking into the role of just another shit-talking/hard-as-nails
rapper.