Albums 20-11
20. The Dead Texan The Dead Texan (Temporary Residence)
I’m not going to waste your time trying to describe this record with flowery prose or anecdotes, and to describe these songs with justice would take far more than 100 words. Fans of Stars of the Lid have probably already grabbed this up, but those still waiting should stop putting off experiencing another of
Adam Wiltzie’s obsessively listenable ambience. Newcomers would probably be just as impressed with Tired Sounds, as either are terrific starters for Wiltzie’s back catalogue, even without anything quite as gripping as “Requiem for Dying Mothers” here. Highly recommended.
Best Moment: “Glen’s Goo”
19. Castanets Cathedral (Asthmatic Kitty)
It’s not hard to hear why many continually compare the Castanets to Will Oldham, and though drawing a line straight through to other noir-folkies would be unfair to all else that makes Cathedral so truly haunting, it’s hard to not focus on. Much like Oldham, When striped to basics, Raposa’s songwriting (not to mention his voice) can be, and is often, stunning. It lacks a single statement as strong as “I See a Darkness,” sure—but Oldham’s never written anything quite like “You Are the Blood,” either. Best Moment: “You Are the Blood”
18. Subtle A New White (Lex)
I’ve always had a soft spot for Dose One, believing that his achievements (Circle, cLOUDDEAD, Them, parts of Hemispheres) far outweighed the vast wealth of rushed, if not amateurish, material. With cLOUDDEAD’s break-up coming out of nowhere with the release of Ten (which, as good as it is, is a far cry from the group’s debut), it didn’t take Dose long to move on; with Why? and Nosdam aren’t left without their own talents, Subtle (a group consisting of, yes, you guessed it, more like-minded artists) is in many ways a better record than Ten, and would likely rank higher than it if I didn’t have an even softer spot for Odd Nosdam. Best Moment: “I Heart LA”
17. The Hidden Cameras Mississauga Goddam (Rough Trade/Evil Evil)
Given the review I wrote for this in July, such a high placement might seem odd; but sometimes we have to admit when we make up our minds a little early on an album, and this is the most glaring case, for me, in 2004. Gibb might still be throwing around the same four or five chords, but enough listens will reveal nearly all of the album’s tracks as some of the year’s finest pop/rock, even with some of the more overtly sexual lyrics since Liz Phair was still the blowjob queen. It’s all good, though; judging by “I Believe In the Good Of Life,” we needn’t look far for a replacement. Best Moment: “In the Union of Wine”
16. Vetiver Vetiver (DiCristina)
Though the first half of Vetiver’s debut isn’t exactly “weak,” its second half is the real reason this album charts so high on my list. Banhart’s contributions, stuck square in the middle, might be a little boisterous (though when the strings come in, “Amour Le Fou” can be as good as anything else on the record), but Andy Cabic returns from the brief powwow with Banhart with some great songwriting in his own right. At times perhaps a little too unassuming, but when it’s on, it’s as good as any of their more celebrated peers.
Best Moment: “Angels’ Share”
15. Madvillain Madvillainy (Stones Throw)
The only great moment missing from Peter’s review, which is close enough to my take on this record to make even a small blurb superfluous: “Trouble with the script / Digits double dipped, bubble lipped / Subtle lisp / Midget / Borderline schizo / Sorta fine tits though.“
Best Moment: “Accordian”
14. Rogue Wave Out of the Shadow (Sub Pop)
Yes—even with the “lick my behind” lyric, even with the aping of nearly every decent accessible indie-pop act of the last decade (and a whole lot of shitty ones, as well), and even with some undeniable rough spots; even with all of this record’s problems, it’s by far one of my favorites of the year and one I continually head back to. Zack Rogue may never reach James Mercer’s catastrophic heights, but he is shaping up to be a fine mentor; his songwriting is often as deceptively simple and sometimes even as memorable, and the record’s production, if a little bit all over the map, can make up for its needless repetition. Best Moment: “Endgame”
13. cLOUDDEAD Ten (Mush/Big Dada)
A far cry from the accomplishment that was their debut, but a gem of a record nevertheless; making up for the at times self-parodying lyrics, Odd Nosdam’s production, pared with Why? and Dose One’s, uh, unique approach to underground “hip hop” (I use the term loosely) and experimental pop, have created one of my most listened to releases of 2004—as prominent in my playlist as it was when I first heard it roughly a year ago.
Best Moment: “Physics of a Unicycle”
12. Animal Collective Sung Tongs (Fat Cat)
Though not nearly as divisive as They Were Wrong So We Drowned or Fabulous Muscles, Sung Tongs is one of the several albums released in 2004 that’s likely to end up on as many “worst” lists as it is that it’ll be celebrated as one of its finest. Often lumped into the more psychedelic and unpredictable contingent of this new folk “movement” (along with member Panda Bear’s solo album Young Prayer, which is also excellent, and barely missed this list), the group sounds like tribal music form a culture unknown to us, less experimental excess than a surreal take on world folk that’s often far more considered than its detractors let on. The scattered harmonies of “Leaf House” might be off-putting at first, but when you start awkwardly humming along, the rest of Sung Tongs slowly begins to make a whole world of sense. Best Moment: “Winters’ Love”
11. Joanna Newsom The Milk-Eyed Mender (Drag City)
Her voice is enough to make a good sized portion of her audience want to take her out like a crow squawking into their ears, and I’m not going to lie: I still can’t say that I’ve completely warmed up to her voice or her whole mystical-elf/nursery rhyme world, as sincere as it may be. But I am finding it increasingly hard to argue that she hasn’t written an album that is in some ways on par with Devendra Banhart’s best infinitely more confident than Vetiver, taking musical and lyrical detours that her peers couldn’t even dream up. Best Moment: “Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie”
