2003: Albums 33-46

Cat Power You Are Free (Matador; February 18, 2003)
Voted by: Candice, Sean, Aaron, Dom
It took Chan Marshall more than a few tries to end up with an album this solid, but at least she’s able to learn from her mistakes. You Are Free is by far her pinnacle — its songs, as usual, kept so minimal that their similarities can be almost parody-like, but her beautiful voice and unique ear for minor key hooks more than make up for the album’s flaws. Her writing is, beyond just being simple (like Joel Gibb’s music is simple, for instance), smart and truthful, deeply connecting in its sympathy, compassion, sadness, and overpowering shadow of depression. Cat Power’s compact sound, here more than on any of her past releases, meets an endless supply of sparse melodic ideas that are, thanks to the barely existent production values (not to mention Dave Grohl and Eddie Vedder’s most unassuming performances in years, if not ever), brought to perfect light. You Are Free does more than assure us she’s capable of more than great covers — it proves she’s capable of creating something great. –Candice Osmond

M83 Dead Cities, Lost Ghosts & Red Seas (Gooom; April 15, 2003)
Voted by: Matt, Sean, Amir
At some point in 2003, My Bloody Valentine seemed to. . . matter again. Between Kevin Shield�s appearance on the shoe-gaze-ridden soundtrack to Sofia Coppola�s Lost in Translation and this amazing album that almost reinvented a dead genre, MBV got their due—again—last year. But where MBV painted with guitars, M83 paints with keyboards and metamorphosized dance beats. That the French duo, who I like to think perform in long, flowing leather trench coats with wind machines blowing on them full blast to lend that epic feel, were able to create such an absurdly deep, organic sound with analog keys is something of a revelation. Songs evolve, shifting from major keys to pits of silence to thrashing rhythms to rich humming and back. It becomes clear that despite the fact that Fromageau and Gonzalez are clearly versed in atmospherics, it�s their understanding of songwriting and dynamics which will make sure this record stays vital. –Sean Ford

Menomena I Am the Fun Blame Monster (Muuuhahaha!; May, 2003)
Voted by: Aaron, Dom
“Redirect your sneeze, the spit will leave a smear that can’t wash off / Kiss me kiss me please!” (“Cough Coughing”). Sounding like a chorus of half-awake Phil Elverums, Danny Seim and co. juxtapose and juxtapose until you’re confused into loving this record. The most brilliant drum programming Josh Davis never did with original piano keys, organ, horns, electric guitar, xylophone, etc.etc.etc. combine with happy-to-be-melancholy melodies and vocal harmonies in software written by the band itself (as they were unsatisfied with any of the music-making software available to them) to yield some of the most quietly quaking original break-pop this side of Portishead’s first record (yet infinitely more catchy and with millions more perfect moments). On “Strongest Man in the World,” the only lyrics are the repeated self-reminders “I am fused out of iron,” and “I promise to keep this under my control,” but the mood and arrangement of the backing organ, piano, and rolling drums render a half-sick end product more psychologically complicated than anything Subtle have recorded. Something’s gone terribly wrong in Portland, and we’re all guiltlessly benefiting. Best Moment: “Oahu’s” beautiful near-song-long piano solo. –Aaron Newell

Blur Think Tank (Virgin; May 6, 2003)
Voted by: Amir, Matt, David
Let’s face it-on account of Graham Coxon’s less than amicable departure and Damon Albarn’s ever expanding ego, it was difficult to get overly excited about Think Tank’s release. It turns out that the “cute one” may have been the brains behind the operation after all. True to Alex James’ proclamation that Think Tank has “hips,” the album is a shockingly groovy affair, subsisting on newfound rivers of bass and heavy doses of psychedelia far more akin to early Pink Floyd than the lithe Brit-pop of Parklife. It also easily contains Damon Albarn’s finest collection of ballads since that album. Dub inspired tracks like “Ambulance” and “On the Way to the Club” aren’t as immediately accessible as past glories like “Girls and Boys” or “Country House”, but they’re far more layered, and (eventually) just as rewarding. A far better album than anyone had a right to expect.
–David M. Goldstein

Broken Social Scene You Forgot It In People (Arts & Crafts/Paper Bag; June 3, 2003)
Voted by: Matt, Peter, Bryan, Amir
From the supersonic guitars of “KC Accidental” to the bleeding heart of “I’m Still Your Fag” to the eerily gorgeous vocal manipulations in “Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl,” this entire album embodies the search for pop perfection in nearly every conceivable way. The ‘Scene calmly and confidently subvert and elevate the genre with ingenious arrangements and expertly produced, layered hooks. The individual elements don’t strike you as that out-of-the-ordinary, but in some strange sense the ‘Scene manage to make them sound extraordinarily different from any pop album you’ve heard before; from the clarinet flourishes to the slightly buzzing acoustic guitars, no element is in the mix without wonderful attention to detail. Ultimately, what cements this album as a classic for the ages is the warm, damaged atmosphere with which it envelops you. Despite arrangements that include a full orchestra, the intimate touches of small vocal interactions between band-mates make it an album that melts you in your bedroom, elevates you on the road, or breaks your heart on headphones. Damage has never been so heartbreaking and alluring at the same time.
–Amir Karim Nezar

Radiohead Hail to the Thief (Captiol; June 8, 2003)
Voted by: Candice, David, Amir
It almost feels as though Radiohead is over — that the era has ended, that with Kid A music just sort of died. Kid A was many different things to many different people, but no matter what it was for the many, for me it felt like the simultaneous death and exaltation of music — a kind of Rapture of rock. Not a single album in the past four years has even caused half the discussion Kid A has. And so Hail to the Thief occupies an uneasy place in the general consciousness, moreso than Amnesiac, which has always seemed the tack-on to Kid A; it is “the thing that Radiohead did after Kid A,” but the status is unfair. Radiohead proved to the world that they could push their own creative limits and vision to the point of implosion, self-destruction; Hail to the Thief is the rebirth after rock’s creative death in Kid A. The reverse-looped scratch guitars on “Backdrifts,” the searing lengths of feedback of “Myxomatosis,” the ethereal, anti-anthem of “There There,” are the reassembled pieces of a Radiohead that’s taken rock apart. This album attempts to embrace all of the styles and expansions that the group has undertaken until now, and the attempt feels strange, because the amount of expansion the group has done is mind-boggling. Nonetheless, Hail to the Thief contains some of the strongest songs in the group’s canon, and if it is the last we’ll see of arguably the greatest band ever, it’s a hell of a schizophrenic, beautiful statement to go out with; it’s nihilism made beautiful.. –Amir Karim Nezar

Sufjan Stevens Michigan (Asthmatic Kitty; July 1, 2003)
Voted by: Dom
Some call it “the mit,” and some refer to it in some kind of masturbatory allusion, but regardless, Detroit is still a swamp and 85% of the state is ignored but achingly lovely. Stevens’s neo-folk opus Michigan is more elegy than celebration: a blood-soaked, surprisingly innocent testament to the dissolution of one young man’s memories. In Holland, a piano mourns the lost time between the tip of the middle finger and the wrist. At the Sleeping Bear Dunes, a synth-altered banjo is as lasting as the sand sliding down the slopes of those hills tourists aren’t even allowed to touch. In Romulus, Stevens’s voice, backed by a chorus of Sounds Familyre regulars, stings like the scent of cheap hair dye. In Flint, we die alone. More states are to come, grafting a wider map over Stevens’s bare arrangements, but for now, sparse glimpses of lives, acrid tears, and sobbing moments of intimacy are enough to call Michigan home. –Dom Sinacola

My Morning Jacket It Still Moves (ATO; September 9, 2003)
Voted by: Scott, Candice, David, Aaron, Dom
When attempting to describe It Still Moves to friends and family, I usually touch upon the image of Neil Young and Crazy Horse-circa-Zuma as being produced by Flaming Lips guru Dave Friddman. Anchored on the songwriting and high lonesome croon of Jim James (recorded in a grain silo, no less), I could almost label My Morning Jacket as “psychedelic-country” on account of their uncompromising song lengths and extensive use of reverb. While It Still Moves contains its fair share of upbeat, honky tonk styled numbers (“Dancefloors”; “Easy Morning Rebel”), its best tracks are positively languid, proceeding at a pace slow enough to make even Sigur Rós anxious. They’re also unquestionably beautiful, and packed with memorable hooks. –David M. Goldstein

Decemberists Her Majesty, the Decemberists (Kill Rock Stars; September 9, 2003)
Voted by: Matt, Candice, Aaron
Colin Meloy has always had a Mr. Peabody-ish air: cokebottle spectacles, a charming nasal drawl, an exceptional, if slightly condescending, vocabulary, and an archaic strut that could only be the result of extensive use of the Way-Back Machine. Perhaps it was the rambling arch-fairy tale of Castaways and Cutouts that so easily lopped the head offa Meloy’s chicken, sending it running aimlessly through the specters of dead babies and disemboweled bootleggers, but with Her Majesty, the Decemberists finally stopped amblin’. Yes, it’s not as whimsically fun as its predecessor, or as immediately effective, but it’s worth the extra effort. Grand pianos and horns rise from the trenches; violins are buried, choking in the shrapnel and dirt; and somewhere, could-be the frontline or could-be the circus tent at the edge of town, a young soldier is satisfied with his first glimpse of death. Majesty is more difficult than Cutouts, but that much more devastating. –Dom Sinacola

Wrens The Meadowlands (Absolutely Kosher; September 9, 2003)
Voted by: Matt, Peter, Bryan, Chet, Amir
Admittedly, parts of this album sound like power-pop emo, but The Meadowlands never, ever sounds like anything less than the absolute apotheosis of that pithy categorization. The hooks, the lyrics, the vocals, the sort of musical details that keep the listener coming back to a song again and again, The Wrens spent years packing all those goodies just perfectly so into their Secaucus follow-up. It doesn’t sound like they wasted a single minute. It doesn’t sound like they did anything but accumulate experience, feeling and thought for the benefit of crafting a great indie rock album, a work of pretty melody steeped in wine and sunset rays. One may call it power-pop emo as long as one does so with a flood of reverent qualifiers; why, let it be compared to the most affecting work of Big Star, and shame on the cynic that blinks an eye. –Chet Betz

Viktor Vaughn Vaudeville Villain (Sound-Ink; September 16, 2003)
Voted by: Sean, Peter, Chet
MF Doom’s most convincing album after Operation Doomsday proved that it doesn’t matter what the beat does, Doom can spit over it. As a service project for young DJs looking for a shot at the big time, it’s without peers; but, then again, the album is most convincing when RJD2 throws down the beat on “Saliva” and Doom lets loose. A great New York album and the best of 2003 hip-hop. –Peter Hepburn

Unicorns Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone? (Alien8; October 21, 2003)
Voted by: Scott, Sean, Peter, Dom
I�ve always wondered whether the Unicorns were named after the band Wyld Stallions from Bill and Ted�s Excellent Adventure. I don�t have anything more than a hunch to go on here, and the fact that that band is named after horses and comprises two friends on a fantastic voyage, but it just seems like the kind of movie they�d be interested in associating themselves with. Yes, the Unicorns are inseparable from the whimsy they stir up, and they may also very well be the best young-and-upcoming band in the world. Their debut album is one of the few albums of the early ’00s to knock my socks off repeatedly as the band glued, taped and stitched an intoxicating mix of lo-fi indie rock, folk, epic rock and references to gangsta rap into one disarming, maddeningly catchy masterpiece about fighting, flipping the bird at and finally succumbing to death. Throw in the fact that the arc of the album also seems like the arc of a band�s career and you�ve got a beguiling concept album featuring some truly amazing sneer-pop gems. If �Inoculate the Innocuous� doesn�t rock you, you�re probably already dead. But that�s okay, the Unicorns understand. –Sean Ford

Shins Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop; October 21, 2003)
Voted by: Matt, David, Bryan, Chet, Aaron, Dom
Even after listening to Oh, Inverted World, I knew few bands sounded like The Shins, and though I’ve never been as big a fan of that record than most of my bretheren, it was something that made its relatively weak songwriting interesting. That notion was confirmed with one listen to Chutes Too Narrow, and much of the popular music press was in tow.
The underlying theme of failure — hinted by the albums title — is prevalent throughout the album in some of the low-key songs like �Young Pilgrims,� �Pink Bullets� and �Those To Come.� They give Chutes more of a singer-songwriter feel than Oh, Inverted World, and, from where I stand, the band is better off for it. Chutes‘ songs allow Mercer�s ability as a lyricist to shine, and he more than delivers, resulting in a set of songs as interesting as the band’s sound.
If this album has a flaw, it is that the 10 song, 30 minute effort seems painfully short; or perhaps The Shins subscribe to the old showbiz adage: always leave them wanting more. Well, Mr. Mercer, I think I speak for the whole of the indie-music community in stating that we all do indeed want more. –Bryan Rowsell