30.
Bjork Medulla (Elektra)
Like the somewhat disappointing Vespertine,
Bjork’s Medulla
took a good three weeks and thirty listens before really coming together,
but outside of its peculiar conceptual approach (it was recorded
almost entirely using vocals), it isn’t overly “difficult.” If anything, it took that long to make sense of what Bjork is trying to achieve outside of its mere superficialities; and, thankfully, she hasn’t just created a hollow gimmick. Underneath the cacophony of voices, from Bjork’s ethereal squeels to inhuman percussion tracks, lay some of her best material since her groundbreaking Homogenic, and little of it turns it back on Vespertine‘s saving grace: its hypnotically crystalline atmosphere. Considering how badly this could’ve
turned out, and how fantastic is actually did, Medulla is unquestionably
one of 2004’s most impressive—and, even more importantly, enjoyable—creative
triumphs. Best Moment: “Mouth’s
Cradle”
29.
Iron & Wine Our Endless Numbered
Days (Sub Pop)
Many had been put off by Sam Beam’s monotony when his critically lauded debut, The Creek Drank the Cradle, was released in 2002. Understandable, since the album’s lo-fi folk lullabies were delivered with an almost identical formula: mix lightly strummed acoustic guitar and softly whispered vocals over a bed of lo-fi static. Two years later, Beam offers a sophomore effort that differs in the exclusion of the lo-fi production alone; once again, the record can be beautiful enough to throw even the emotionally devoid into crying fits when taken in a track at a time, but as a complete experience it takes the patience of a Finnegan’s Wake fanatic to digest properly. The record again proves that Beam is one of our best folk songwriters (and by far one of our best lyrically rich), but something is going to have to change before he’s able to absolutely floor us for more than three minutes at a time.
Best Moment: “Sodom, South Georgia”
28.
Fiery Furnaces Blueberry Boat (Rough Trade)
On one hand, the duo has created an astonishingly
ambitious and—even rarer—unique genre-destroying record; on the other, it’s swamped
under a mess bigger than my old sophomore dorm room, its endless sections taking one elongated
needless turn after another. The loose thematic thread that runs through
Blueberry
Boat goes a long way in giving the ADD structures a sometimes charming
narrative, but, again, there’s a flip-side; some of the record’s lyrics
are terrible enough to belie—or in some cases, ruin—its monumental
highs. When I’m able to focus solely on the terrific album scattered over
Blueberry
Boat, there’s nothing else quite like it—but with about thirty minutes
worth of jam reels crammed in for the ride, it’s far from being a comfortable,
or even welcoming, ride. Best Moment: “Chris Michaels”
27.
The Tragically Hip In
Between Evolution (Capitol)
If you’ve already
made your mind up on the Tragically Hip (at least if it’s based on their
music and not some pre-conceived notion that they just suck), it’s safe
to say Evolution isn’t going change your mind. Still, for fans that have
been nonplussed with their recent output (or hell, even fans like myself that have
been, uh, plussed), this is a not-so-subtle reminder of the band’s wildly
misunderstood balance between intelligent FM-rock and Gord Downie’s band-defining
Cohenisms. If you think you’ve ever had them pegged, you’re likely wrong,
and I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that one listen to “You
Are Everywhere” or “Are We Family?” might just make that case for me. Best Moment: “Gus:
The Polar Bear From Central Park”
26.
Clinic Winchester Cathedral (Domino)
Winchester Cathedral has taken a lot of grief for being
a superfluous run through of “more of the same,” but it all seems like far
the result of a mass self-fulfilling prophecy than sincere frustration over a band
that has a harder time moving on than a fifteen year old girl suffering
her first broken heart. Look past the eerily similar superficialities and
you’ve got an album that not only trounces their sophomoric effort, Walking
With Thee (their singles album, pretty much), but does, in fact, throw
in a few new tricks along the way. Seriously now, is being stubbornly confident
in your approach (and backing it up with a return to form, at that) really
the greatest sin a band can make these days? Best
Moment: “Falstaff”
25. Elliott Smith From
a Basement on the Hill (Epitaph/Anti)
Since his death makes
writing about the record feel like trying to piece together a suitable
eulogy, let’s keep it at this: listen to “Twlight” and you’ll realize just
how a big a loss his death—to those of us that will only ever know him
through his music, at least—really is. Best Moment: “Twilight”
24.
Fennesz Venice (Touch)
Speaking of comparing
an album to past glories, Venice seems to be receiving a mediocrum
of the attention paid to its predecessor, Endless Summer, despite
being—and I’ve found this to be agreed upon by pretty much everyone I’ve
discussed the the record with—a stronger and more rewarding work. Like any other album built around
prolonged digitized drones and manipulations, it’s a highly esoteric affair, but not as elitist
or exclusive as many might fear; sure, you might still choose to pass it over for being
homogenous white noise, but it’s your loss. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to
discover more in the first sixty seconds of “A Point Too Far” than a year’s
worth of lip-syncing jiggers and dance-rock bands combined. Best Moment: “A
Point Too Far”
23.
The Walkmen Bows & Arrows (Record Collection)
True, their debut
wasn’t entirely consistent either, but Bows seems to suffer more from its limited filler than its predecessor. Maybe it’s how they’ve expanded
into a truly explosive and affecting rock band with at least three
of the year’s best rock tracks, mainstream or not. Maybe it’s how they’ve
developed into a band that can pull of a self-pitying track like “The Rat”
without coming off as another whiny white rock band complaining about how
lonely they are, and have it still not be the album’s best. Either
way, their sophomore record is a compelling stepping block into something
“bigger and better”—one they may have only half-way achieved here due to those few pieces of underdeveloped filler. But
Jesus, what a half-way it is. Best Moment: “Thinking of A Dream
I Had”
22.
Jason Molina Pyramid Electric Co. (Secretly Canadian)
As desolate as Nebraska
and almost as lyrically revealing as Astral Weeks, Pryamid Electric
Co. is a breathtaking and, yes, highly repetitive (no surprise to long-time Molina fans) bridge between Songs:
Ohia and Jason Molina’s newest project, Magnolia Electric Co. While the
immediacy of Magnolia‘s “I’ve Been Riding With the Ghost” and “Almost
Was Good Enough” are missing, so too are any traces of “Old Black Hen” or, for that matter, a band. Whereas Magnolia proved
that he could create a blemished masterpiece with the right amount of help,
he proves more than able when left to his own devices; it may not be his most considered work, but it’s delivered with enough conviction to win back fans put off by Magnolia‘s expanse, and destroy any lingering remnants of that album’s brief optimism along the way. Best Moment: “Spectral
Alphabet”
21.
Interpol
Antics (Matador)
Amir’s review of this
album caused more staff debate and vitriol than any album we’ve encountered
yet, and I’m still honestly dumbfounded as to why. Antics isn’t so much
different from their much lauded debut outside of the fact that these are,
despite how your ears might deceive you on first listen, new songs. Likewise,
many intially blasted the record for being a terrible sophomore slump,
anxious to derail a band that has grown bigger than anyone could have predicted
in 2002; but give it enough play-throughs to realize it’s one of the year’s
biggest growers, and you might just get over the monstrous backlash urge
long enough to recognize it as, at the very least, on-par with Bright Lights. Sure,
the lyrics can be terrible (though no moreso than the Fiery Furnaces disc
at any point) and it has a few distractingly boring moments (hell, I still can’t
tell a couple of songs apart), it has won me over—and for a guy that
liked their debut a fair share less than most everyone else in the world,
its ability to grab me and hold my attention for most of its running time
(well, eventually) is far more important than any large artistic leap.
Best Moment: “Not Even Jail”
