THE PUSHING PAPER TOP 100 ALBUMS OF THE DECADE: PART FOUR

As the list is not into its final 45, the line of demarcation between Parts Three and Four is that we’re now getting into albums I listened to a shitload of times. I suppose that could be said for Is This It, Night Ripper, and Think Tank from Part Three, but, with the exception of number 38, these albums are all by artists who impacted me this decade, either because the totality of their output this decade moved me, or because they released one album that I wore out.

45. Q And Not U — Different Damage (2002)

44. The Flaming Lips — Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (2002)

Embryonic has been met with such unbridled enthusiasm that, by the time I’m finally able to fully digest it, perhaps that will end up as the Lips’ signature release of this decade for me. When evaluating mature — for lack of a better word — artists this decade, if Mission of Burma’s new album represent the ability to just keep kicking ass without growing stale, and if Wu-Tang and Celtic Frost represent how best to expound upon what made you great in the first place, Yoshimi plainly represents how best to mellow out. Not that this album sounds like it could come from any other artist (well, except for Cat Stevens), but if your a psychedelic band that’s releasing a record that’s only tangentially psych, then it sure helps if that record’s songs are incredibly well-crafted.

43. Deerhoof — The Runners Four (2005)

The fact that Deerhoof’s output this decade was uniformly great, and the fact that such uniform greatness necessitates that a consensus over which of their albums was best cannot be arrived at, was a centerpiece of my list of reasons why decade-end albums lists are stupid. Here’s the thing: I think The Runners Four is clearly their best effort. Maybe it lacks some of the spastic madness that drew so many people to Deerhoof in the first place, but its ambition and scope is unmatched in their discography.

42. The Smashing Pumpkins — MACHINA II / The Friends and Enemies of Modern Music (2000)

Something tells me I’m not going to like Teargarden by Kaleidyscope as much as this.

41. Clipse — Hell Hath No Fury (2006)

Finally, the Thorntons make their first appearance on the list. (This might be the best ever example of an album cover that tells you everything you need to know about the album itself, by the way.) I realize that the point of lists like this is to sing to the high heavens about why all these albums are wonderful, so forgive me for nitpicking about Hell Hath No Fury. I feel compelled to point out the one reason why this clearly isn’t the Clipse’s finest album: There aren’t any really incredible choruses. Yes, it has some of the most insanely original beats around, but none of these songs are ever going to worm their way into your head. Maybe I’m alone in feeling this way, by if you’re going to split hairs amongst multiple masterpieces, things like this matter.

40. High On Fire — Blessed Black Wings (2005)

39. Interpol — Turn on the Bright Lights (2002)

38. Morgan Geist — Unclassics (2004)

37. Baroness — Red Album (2007)

Admittedly, this is an uneven album. (I also admit, now that I’m finally listening to it every day, that Blue Record is clearly superior.) But I got so freaking obsessed with “Rays on Pinion” that it launched me on a two-years-long metal bender that still hasn’t ended. Clearly, that has to count for something.

36. Fugazi — The Argument (2001)

So, Pavement, a band I love dearly, is going to spend the better part of 2010 staging reunion shows. I’m not ruling out the possibility that I’ll go see them somewhere, but if I miss them and they never play together again, I won’t lose any sleep about the fact that I’ve never seen them. The albums are all I ever need. BUT, if Fugazi ever get back together and tour, well, let’s just say I’ll be willing to put a lot of money into ensuring that I see them. Not having seen Fugazi live is one of the biggest holes on my life’s resume. There are only a handful of rock bands ever that have a palpable aura about them, and I sincerely believe that Fugazi is one of them. Part of the reason for that is because, fifteen years into their career, they made an amazing album, and basically just disappeared without any self-serving fanfare.

35. The Exploding Hearts — Guitar Romantic (2003)

I can’t think of anything more terribly ironic than the fact that an album whose songs are so unabashedly happy ended up being associated with what was, at least for me, the saddest thing that happened in music this decade. Long live the Exploding Hearts.

THE PUSHING PAPER TOP 100 ALBUMS OF THE DECADE: PART ONE

The time has come. After months of deliberation, the committee of one has finally pieced everything together, if only because I kind of want to get this thing over with. Despite the fact that the decade hasn’t ended yet, and that I’m sure I’ll want to re-order things as soon as the list is published, the world can wait no longer. Hopefully I won’t regret putting this up prior to the release of Till the Casket Drops next week, but it’s not like Clipse didn’t end up all over my list anyway. Hopefully they’ll understand.

Okay, so Part One is as simple as it gets. These albums don’t really have any sort of connotations for me other than my enjoyment of them; they’re just albums that I liked a lot. With that being their primary distinction, obviously some of these albums came close to not making the list, but I did listen to all of them a lot, and I’m pleased to say that there isn’t any filler here.

100. Krallice — Dimensional Bleedthrough (2009)

99. Baroness — Blue Record (2009)

I’m starting this list with two cop-out rankings just to get them out of the way. Both of these albums are just-released follow-ups to terrific debuts by relatively new metal bands. It hasn’t been long enough to fully absorb either of these albums yet — especially the Krallice one, which clocks in at 77 minutes — but I’ve heard enough to know that in due time I’ll like them more than some of the albums currently ranked above them. (I told you decade lists were stupid.)

98. Farben — Textstar (2002)

97. Spiritualized — Songs in A&E (2008)

96. Pitbull — Rebelution (2009)

95. Nachtmystium — Instinct: Decay (2006)

94. Jay-Z — The Black Album (2003)

93. Phoenix — Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix (2009)

Me: Nuke Arizona?

Phoenix: We don’t know. Gotta nuke somethin’.

92. Boris — Akuma No Uta (2005)

91. Burial — s/t (2006)

90. Nadja — Thaumogenesis (2007)

89. Heartbreak — Lies (2008)

Here’s a great album that as far as I can tell garnered senselessly minimal attention from the non-dance crowd. Hell, it may not have garnered any attention from the dance crowd either, since I’m not really tuned into that world. Lies is the most menacingly cheesy dance record I’ve ever heard. (The album cover perfectly conveys the album’s overall sound.) I say, why listen to New York hipster music that’s just trying to sound like Italo when Heartbreak is faithfully churning out the real thing?

88. Broken Social Scene — You Forgot It In People (2003)

Admittedly, nothing on this album is even 10% as good as The Hood Internet’s mash-up of some BSS song and R. Kelly’s “I’m a Flirt,” but these songs have held up really well.

87. Stephen Malkmus — s/t (2001)

86. The Go! Team — Thunder, Lightning, Strike (2004)

85. Junior Senior — Hey Hey My My Yo Yo (2005)

This record is living proof that even in the internet era physical distribution still matters, because the two-year-plus delay of this record’s release in America is the only reason I can think of that pretty much no one paid attention to this album, especially since everyone I know who’d ever heard “Move Your Feet” loved it. What was most frustrating for me about this whole ordeal was that Hey Hey My My Yo Yo was even better than D-D-Don’t Don’t Stop the Beat. And now Junior Senior is gone forever. The lesson, of course, is that life is cruel and unfair.  At the very least, just do yourself a favor and listen to “I Like Music,” one of the happiest songs of all-time.

84. Nine Inch Nails — The Slip (2008)

No part of me is embarrassed about this. If you ever liked Nine Inch Nails at all and didn’t give The Slip a chance because it’s been fifteen years since The Downward Spiral, then shame on you. I, for one, am thankful that I grew up in a world where little kids were listening to fucked up shit like “March of the Pigs,” and I’m also thankful that Trent Reznor has somehow remained creatively viable.

83. Colour Haze — All (2008)

82. Les Savy Fav — Let’s Stay Friends (2007)

This album to me is a perfect template of how a band — particularly a band that made its name on the insanity of its live shows — should age. That’s not to say that Les Savy Fav have completely mellowed out, but what Let’s Stay Friends lacks in spastic spontaneity, it replaces with better songwriting. Prior to this album, there weren’t many LSF songs you could whistle while on a stroll without sounding like a whacked out bird. Yet no song on Let’s Stay Friends sounds like it came from any other band. To me, this is truly impressive.

81. Super Furry Animals — Rings Around the World (2001)

80. Electric Wizard — Let Us Prey (2002)