Seth’s Best Albums of 2009

  40.) Leonard Cohen–Live in London. One of the biggest highlights of ’09 was seeing Cohen–three rows back at Copley–with the guy who originally introduced me to his music. My dad. Did I care that the S.D. show was almost exactly the same as the concert on this two-disc album? Not at all. It was too long coming and Cohen’s too much of a master to analyze those kinds of particulars. 

  39.) Jack Peñate–Everything is New. I didn’t see much promise on his 2007 debut, Matinee, with his snidey little accent and retreaded pop hooks. But the new one lived up too its title with the 25-year-old Peñate channeling heartbreak (“Pull My Heart Away”), drifting (“Today’s Tonight”) and obsession (“Every Glance”) into a mature statement that would take other artists years to realize. 

  38.) Maxwell–BLACKsummers’night. Jesus, Maxwell, what took you so long? Nearly eight years after the release of his last studio album Mr. ‘Til-the-Cops-Come-Knockin returned, voice intact, and dropped the best love-makin’ R&B record of the year. Now, if only D’Angelo would take notice. 

  37.) The Flaming Lips–Embryonic. Where most bands their age are drifting in mid-life uncertainty, the Lips ditched pop altogether and made one of their weirdest and most inaccessible albums of their career. Nothing as gorgeous as “Do You Realize?,” nothing as catchy as “She Don’t Use Jelly.” Just cool, experimental rock from a band that seems incapable of producing anything formulaic. 

  36.) Here We Go Magic–Here We Go Magic. What Paul Simon might have sounded like if he was born in 1984 and grew up listening to lo-fi 7-inches in his room. Segueing from computerized folk (“Fangala”) to electro white noise (“Ghost List”) to Band-style rave-ups (“Everything’s Big”), mastermind Luke Temple is a chameleon on top of a mirror. What’s he gonna do now? 

  35.) Dirty Projectors–Bitte Orca. Once a roving cast of New York musicians centered around songwriter Dave Longstreth, the Projectors became the most important new band of 2009. Sounding like a post-millenium  Talking Heads, you’d be hard-pressed to find any self-respecting indie geek that didn’t play this record on a loop. In the past, with entire LPs of Black Flag covers and concept albums about Don Henley, I didn’t really take them seriously. I do now. 

  34.) Sunset Rubdown–Dragonslayer. Wolf Parade could have been as big as Radiohead. Yeah, I said it. But the four egos involved didn’t want it and now that promise rests with Parade’s Spencer Krug, whose Sunset Rubdown project has morphed from a self-indulgent side project into a fantastic band that’s sonically experimental without losing all sense of fun.

  33.) Imaad Wasif–The Voidist. A former member of Folk Implosion and alaska!, Wasif has crafted a catchy rock album that’s equal parts Jeff Buckley and Led Zeppelin. Trippy, tense and terse all at once, it’s the closest thing to hard-rock that I was able to tolerate this year. Especially after that crappy Mastodon record.

  32.) Eels–Hombre Lobo. Forget “Novocaine for the Soul.” Just let it go. But that doesn’t mean beautiful freak E. (Mark Oliver Everett) has lost all sense of catchy songcraft. Just check out “Beginner’s Luck” and “What’s a Fella Gotta Do?” off Hombre Lobo. Ultimately an album about unrequited love, he’s somehow combined all his past personalities into one forelorn wolf-man who makes his pain sound so beautiful. 

  31.) Fool’s Gold–Fool’s Gold. If you’re like me, you’re sick of this whole white-boy afro-pop shit. But then walks in the L.A. hipsters in Fool’s Gold, filling up my haterade chalice with funky, jangling afro-rock sung in Hebrew. Songs like “Nadine” and “Surprise Hotel” are proof that even though the white man may never stop ripping off the brotha-man, talent will always outshine authenticity.  

  30.) La Roux–La Roux. Why this album wasn’t bigger than it was, I’ll never know. This electro-pop London girl who looked like a boy who digs girls who likes boys had hit singles galore in the U.K. but only made a small splash stateside. Songs like “Bulletproof” and “Quicksand” are the soundtrack to the coolest gay club of my mind. 

  29.) The Very Best–Warm Heart of Africa. A warm heart indeed. This album had the makings of disaster written all over it. Two cool, world-music-obsessed producers recruit a singer from Mali to wax over Afro-syncopated electro tracks. But, man, it’s good. “Chalo” sounds like a cross between a John Hughes soundtrack and Amadou & Mariam, while “Julia” is just begging to be used as a sample on Snoop’s next record. When the song that features M.I.A. is the weakest track on the album, you know you’re dealing with something special. 

  28.) brakesbrakesbrakes–Touchdown. On their first two records, the Brighton-based Brakes were so all over the place with their sound, that to call them sonically indecisive would have been putting it delicately. But on Touchdown they finally found that balance between folky-pop and aggro-punk that I knew they were capable of. 

  27.) The Low Anthem–Oh My God, Charlie Darwin. Was there a more sublime folk album released this year than this gem from the Rhode Island trio? If there was, I didn’t hear it. Listen to the meditative title track and tell me it doesn’t touch you in a place that’s otherwise been ignored for years. 

  26.) The Decemberists–Hazards of Love. Somehow, it’s the album that everyone forgot when they were compiling these ubiquitous, year-end best-of lists. Was it just that it ain’t no Crane Wife (which I didn’t like that much by the way)? Was it the rather overzealous concept album chatter about an otherwise great band jumping the shark? Doesn’t matter. It’s an anthemic masterstroke from a band that isn’t afraid to fuck with their formula. 

  25.) Fuck Buttons–Tarot Sport. Britons like to joke that good things rarely come out of Bristol, much less intelligent music. But this experimental electronic duo make soaring insrumental music that takes the glitchy ambience of Aphex Twin and the epicness of Explosions in the Sky and serves it up as something altogether unique in a genre that really needed it this year.  

  24.) Lil Wayne–No Ceilings Mixtape. Best rapper alive or not, when the catchiest song on your new mixtape has the chorus, “Pop that pussy and shake that ass,” you know that you’ll lose some of your pop credibility. Whatevs, at least he wasn’t trying to play guitar and stuck to what he does best. He breathes new life into Jay-Z’s “D.O.A.” and kills the Black-Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling,” all while a year-long prison sentence stares him in the face. 

  23.) The Horrors–Primary Colours. Anyone expecting the same snotty lads that produced the two-minute punk shout-out, “Sheena is a Parasite” must have been scratching their head in disbelief after hearing Colours. Produced by members of Portishead and music video director Chris Cunningham, the English quintet mine the darkest corners of shoegaze (“Mirror’s Image”) and pychedelica (the eight-minute “Sea Within a Sea”) and produce a goth masterpiece. The fact that NME named it album of the year is proof that the pretension remains intact, but this time it’s way easier to buy into it. 

  22.) Passion Pit–Manners. Electro-emo for scenesters? Synth-pop tailor-made for cel phone ads? Whatever clever categorization was used to dismiss these new romantics from Cambridge, Massachusetts, it didn’t stop hundreds of thousands of indie kids from making out to “Little Secrets,” falling in love to “Sleepyhead,” and breaking up to “Swimming in the Flood.” All in the same summer. 

  21.) The Drums–Summertime! EP. Seven undeniably catchy pop nuggets straight outta Brooklyn complete with boy-girl duets (“Don’t be a Jerk, Jonny”), hand claps (“Make You Mine”) and whistling (“Let’s Go Surfing”). Had it been released at the beginning of summer instead of the end of September would have all but guaranteed more radio spins, but it’s always sunny in Williamsburg with this blaring out of the headphones.  

  20.) Deer Tick–Born on Flag Day. Depending on the ears, Deer Tick frontman John McCauley’s voice might be a little hard to take. An earnest, gravely whine that seems better suited for a punk band, it does, however, make Flag Day an alt-country album unlike any other. Filled with road-tested barn-burners (“Straight Into A Storm”) and heartbreaking ballads (“Smith Hill”), it treads lightly but with a “don’t tread on me” attitude. 

  19.) Animal Collective–Merriweather Post Pavillion. You can’t exactly call Animal Collective’s eighth album a commercial breakthrough, but there’s no denying that it might go down as their greatest achievement ever. If defies categorization and description, while dually redefining what a pop album is supposed to sound like. Some don’t get it. Listen harder. 

  18.) Jarvis Cocker–Further Complications. Sure, it could have been easily subtitled, “I Used to be the Lead Singer of Pulp and I’m Still Horny and Messed Up,” but Cocker’s second solo release saw him recording with a rocking new band and sounding more playful than he has in years. There’s hardly anything here resembling Brit-pop, instead replaced by power chord bangers (“Fuckingsong”), sexy euro-trash funk (You’re in My Eyes”) and perverse R&B crooning (“I Never Said I Was Deep,” complete with the line, “I’m not looking for a relationship, just a willing receptacle”). 

  17.) Mannequin Men–Lose Your Illusion, Too. While the Black Lips were making more headlines for fighting with Wavves than for their new album, Chicago’s Mannequin Men tucked them back and made the garage rock album of the year. It’s snotty, basic and Pitchfork hated it. What more do you need? 

  16.) Sian Alice Group–Troubled, Shaken, Etc. This London-based quintet makes me wish it rained here more often. They center their lush jazz instrumentation and explorative post-rock melodies around the stunning (in both looks and voice) Sian Alice Ahern for something altogether moody. Whatever mood it is, you won’t hear it in an iPod commercial. You won’t hear it on an HBO show. It’s an album that you’ll need to take your time with, but the payoff will leave you soaked. 

  15.) Sleepy Sun–Embrace. Watching these psychedelic rockers tear up Bar Pink was a major highlight this year. Sure, they can jam out with the best of their musical kin and they do a wicked cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain,” but there’s something altogether sinister in songs like “Golden Artifact” and the epic “White Dove.” It’s as if they’re all collectively screaming, “Go ahead, take the brown acid.” 

  14.) AA Bondy–When the Devil’s Loose. A haunting mix of folk, country and blues, the Dark Prince shows up all over Bondy’s music, in both literal references and tone. But where his debut seemed more focused on beating back the demons around the bed, this one sounds more like a resigned  man accepting that they’re there for good.

  13.) Todd Snider–The Excitement Plan. Snider is like the modern singer-songwriter version of Randy Newman. A master songwriter in every sense, his musicianship finally caught up on this release. Pedal-steel accented gems about growing old (“Greencastle Blues”) and gorgeous piano-pop about unrealized fame (“Money, Compliments, Publicity”), not to mention what is probably the greatest song about baseball ever (“America’s Favorite Pastime”).

  12.) Neko Case–Middle Cyclone. Years ago, I attempted to describe the difference between Tori Amos and PJ Harvey to a hardcore fan of the former with something like this: “If Tori Amos gets her heart broken, she kills herself. If PJ Harvey gets her heart broken, she kills him.” Neko Case has sung fantastic alt-country songs of longing for no-good men for years, but on Cyclone she finally gets her revenge. “The next time you say forever, I will punch you in your face,” she sings on one song. “I’m a man, man, man, man, man, man eater, but still you’re surprised, surprised, surprised when I eat ya,” she sings on another. The female praying mantis will consume her mate after sex. Case makes it sound like it’s human nature as well.  

  11.) Crocodiles–Summer of Hate. Love them or hate them, Brandon Welchez and Charles Rowell made an album that was derivative as all hell but undeniable as well. You can piss and moan about how they ripped off Jesus and Mary Chain and how they shit all over San Diego in the press, or you can turn the title track up to 11, listen to it slowly build up and then watch it explode all over your face. I choose the latter. 

  10.) The Veils–Sun Gangs. Enigmatic frontman Finn Andrews lost a little of his melodramatic mojo on 2006′s  Nux Vomica, but luckily it’s returned intact on The Veils’ third album. Sounding like a cross between Jeff Buckley and Richard Ashcroft, he sings songs of love and hate like their entirely new emotions. Once again, the band was mistakenly ignored but anyone who cared to listen found something that steadily grew within the cracks of their heart. 

  9.) Raekwon–Only Built for Cuban Linx, Pt. II. A sequel almost 15 years in the making, The Chef managed to make his second foray away from Wu-Tang Clan sound as fresh and innovative as Part 1. Almost every other track has a different producer and a guest appearance from a fellow MC, including all members of the Clan, except U-God. But even as awesome as “House of Flying Daggers” is, it’s the tracks where he rhymes alone that he does the most damage. “Canal Street” sounds like the soundtrack to a Floyd Mayweather fight, while “Surgical Gloves” and the Erick Sermon-produced “Baggin Crack” are further proof that the art of storytelling is back. And it sure feels good.

  8.) The Avett Brothers–I and Love and You. In this episode, our favorite banjo- and stand-up bass-toting country boys move to Brooklyn, sign to a major label, work with bearded Zen master Rick Rubin, and still manage to keep their souls intact. Whether you were expecting a commercial breakthrough or a massive piece of shit, the country-rock trio delivered neither. Instead, I and Love and You just added onto what is already a stellar catalogue of songs.

  7.) Mike Bones–A Fool for Everyone. Any album that begins with the line, “Today, the world is worthy of my loathing,” is after my heart. Sounding like the aural equivalent to Hank Moody, Bones shreds on guitar while recounting torrid stories of adultery (“One Moment’s Peace”) and even love (“What I Have Left”) that are somehow equally touching. 

  6.) Drake–So Far Gone Mixtape. LL Cool J was rap’s first heartthrob. Women loved those lips and the emotion on “I Need Love” while the fellas went out and bought Kangol hats after hearing the sheer awesomeness of “I’m Bad.” Yet, there hasn’t really been an MC since that was able to dutifully balance their tough and tender side. That may change with Drake. A Canadian actor best known for his role on, of all things, Degrassi: The Next Generation, he raps, sings and makes mentor Lil Wayne proud. If you didn’t hear about him this year, you will in 2010. 

  5.) Cass McCombs–Catacombs. McCombs may have made the song of his career (“You Saved My Life”) on what might be the album of his career. Supposedly a tribute to his wife, his third LP might be his most stripped-down release to date, and while some references are easy—Dylan (“My Sister, My Spouse”), Bright Eyes (“Dreams Come True Girl”) and acoustic Neil Young (“Harmonia”)—at its core, it’s a record that you need to take some time with to really appreciate. It slowly gets under your skin and into your pores until you can’t imagine your world without it.

  4.) Choir of Young Believers–This is for the White in Your Eyes. While Arcade Fire fans were drying their eyes listening to sub-par facsimiles like Glasvegas and Airborne Toxic Event, I was lost in the ravishing beauty of this Danish band’s debut. Orchestral without being over-indulgent, introspective without losing an edge, the band fashions soaring tunes centered around frontman Jannis Noya Makrigiannis’ wounded falsetto. 

  3.) Wild Beasts–Two Dancers. Like a modern-day equivalent to Roxy Music–complete with tales of fighting and sex delivered by Bryan Ferry spawn Hayden Thorpe–this English band deliver a sophomore album that makes good on 2008′s Limbo, Panto. ”This is a booty call. My boot, my boot, my boot, my boot up your asshole,” Thorpe exclaims on the opener, “The Fun Powder Plot,” somehow managing to make that sound like the coolest thing he’ll do all week. It’s art-pop for the maladjusted lover/fighter in all of us. 

2.) Girls–Album. You wouldn’t know it on initial listen, but Girls’ debut is a lot like The Clash’s London Calling. A genre-jumping pastiche of emotion and angst from a wounded soul (frontman Christopher Owens) that never lets up or loses its pop sensibility. More a collection of singles, compiled together it breathes new life into the LP format as an art. Brilliant. 

  1.) The xx–xx. Nothing sounded as undeniably gorgeous. Nothing sounded as sexy. Nothing sounded as catchy. Nothing sounded as mature. Nothing sounded as brilliant as an under-the-radar album recorded for a pittance by four barely twenty-somethings from South London. Singers Romy Madley-Croft and Oliver Sim trade verses full of youthful longing as if they were reading the Cliff Notes of Romeo & Juliet while the stunningly simplistic, R&B-influenced music behind them does the rest. Bands working their whole careers can only hope they’ll make an album as great as The xx’s debut, while The xx themselves can only hope that they haven’t completely shot their entire wad with this one, amazing statement.