Let Me In The Sound.

DISCLAIMER: I am fully incapable, I think, of anything approaching objectivity when it comes to U2.

It's fascinating how utterly impossible it is to judge a new U2 record on its own merits. I happen to think that context is an absolute ironclad requirement in the exploration and criticism of all music -- but that might just be an overly bookish statement of an obvious human fact: everything requires context. That said, how do you escape not just the comparison of this record to the rest of the catalog, but the ongoing context of a band that has done what no rock band has ever done -- remained artistically and commercially relevant, worldwide, for over 30 years? Regardless of your personal opinion of the music or the sanctimoniousness or the glitter-ball lemon, that's indisputable. The fact that they don't just put out hits comps every two years is almost enough. But they are artistically restless in a way that, again, no band ever has been. This includes the Beatles. Radiohead is obviously headed in the same direction, but they're only halfway down the U2 path, and as much as I adore them, it could certainly be argued that they don't have nearly the commercial visibility that U2 has. Now, I don't necessarily agree with that argument -- the record business is completely and utterly changed now, and it may be simultaneously impossible for any band from here on out to "pull a U2," and possible to make more money not being on a label, but that's another conversation.

Right now, I like this record so much that it makes the last two records worse by comparison. I've been ruminating on a U2 theory for a while, not sure that it was ready for public consumption (I use "public" veeeeeeery loosely, of course), but here goes: the live U2 experience is so transcendent that it renders the records irrelevant. Having heard them re-embrace exploration -- and especially sonic exploration -- on No Line on the Horizon actually cements this theory, at least for the last two. All That You Can't Leave Behind and Atomic Bomb were much more linear, song-based records. Minimal frills, trying to serve the song rather than create an atmosphere. Not a negative, and God knows that there were hall of fame moments on both -- I remember thinking the first time I heard "Beautiful Day," in the midst of all the rap-rock on the radio, that I had forgotten that music could sound like that -- but I rarely go back to them. Having been in the room for the miracle that is a U2 show on both those tours, the recorded versions just can't measure up. I carry those songs with me as living, moving things, markers of a life attempting grace, but oddly enough am relatively uninspired to put the needle on the records.

Speaking of dropping the needle, a quality first listen has become increasingly rare for me, given the volume of my children and my recent predilection for vinyl, which necessarily requires me to be in the living room, which brings into play the volume of my children. So to be surprised with a digital leak literally one hour before I was out the door to drop one off at preschool and get the other one a-nappin' was an immeasurable blessing. And even moreso, since No Line's thesis statement, easily found in "Get On Your Boots" and a couple other songs, is let me in the sound.

No Line gave me my most satisfying first listen since I put the headphones on in the office after everyone else had left and got my Kid A on back in 2000. I'm not gonna track-by-track it, but I will say this: the 1-2-3 of "No Line on the Horizon," "Magnificent," and "Moment of Surrender" are easily and obviously the best opening salvo since Achtung Baby. The songs are stone cold killers. It's way too early to say "as good as," but they're in the conversation. Which is thrilling to me. The other thing that stands out right away is that I'm still not quite sure what the band is up to. I'm still under 10 spins, but the concept of a U2 album that's a grower is incredibly exciting. I should say at this point that I listen to a lot of music -- even with the increased demands of family life, it's still waaaaaay more than the average bear -- but needing to explore a record...getting that itch in the middle of all of your busy-ness and finding ways to make time for it -- is something I haven't done in quite a while. Wow, did I miss it.

2008: The Mix.

Reprinted from the Facebook Archives, with permission from the author.

Stealing good ideas is awesome because then you don't have to, you know, come up with them. I was reading an interview with Cameron Crowe (probably pound-for-pound my favorite filmmaker) around the time Almost Famous came out, and he mentioned that he made mixtapes each year growing up, and that he had gone back to them for inspiration in writing the mostly-autobiographical script.

"Hey," I thought. "I like music. And I'm a giant nerd to boot. This is the best thing I've ever heard." And I immediately co-opted the idea for myself. So since 2001, I've cobbled together with great rumination and not a little pomp and circumstance a mix of what I couldn't stop listening to that particular year. Yes, there are rules, but they tend to be flexible and doesn't that just ruin everything anyway? No one wants to see how the sausages are made.

Here's the 2008 edition.

01 Something Is Not Right with Me - Cold War Kids
02 Consoler of the Lonely - The Raconteurs
03 Living Well Is The Best Revenge - R.E.M.
04 Rhinemaidens - The Envy Corps
05 A-Punk - Vampire Weekend
06 Tessellate - Tokyo Police Club
07 M23 - Starflyer 59
08 White Winter Hymnal - Fleet Foxes
09 Strawberry Swing - Coldplay
10 Beautiful Beat - Nada Surf
11 I Don't Know - King's X
12 Cath... - Death Cab For Cutie
13 Hanging Tree - Counting Crows
14 American Gangster Time - Elvis Costello & The Imposters
15 Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
16 Missed The Boat - Modest Mouse
17 If You Want It - Lenny Kravitz
18 Sequestered In Memphis - The Hold Steady
19 That Was Just Your Life - Metallica
20 A Milli - Lil Wayne
21 She Had Me At Takeoff - Triggers



Photo by Nitun Verma // orangefilter.com

2008: Everything Else

Reprinted from the Facebook Archives, with permission from the author.


I had a blog once (although based on the readership, you could make a pretty decent argument against its very existence). When I was into it, I was really into it -- it was a great way to be creative or blow off steam or talk about music or whatever. A welcome outlet for a guy who doesn't write for pleasure nearly as often as he should. Problem was, I was only into it about five or six times. So I'm gonna try it here as part of the Grand Facebook Experiment I have embarked upon. Facebook doesn't have the dizzying array of dodgy-to-ehh backgrounds that Blogger sports, but I'll try to rise above that with the writing. Or not. (Editor's note: the aesthetics have won, which is why you're reading this here instead of there. Carry on.)

That's right. A mission statement.

Now, since (as we all know) the deadline for music criticism for any year is January 31 of the following year -- it's like the fiscal year that way, or Orthodox Christmas -- I still have a bit of time to talk about 2008 In Music. I can't decide if it was just a down year or if I finally took a few steps down the Relevance Ladder, but since it's my damn blog I'm going with the former. I have a Top 10 records list, but there just wasn't enough quality to pad it to 20, which is a first. So before we get to the official Best Of, let's spend some time with Everything Else. Or, if you prefer, The Top However Many Records That I Just Couldn't Get Enough Time With Or Weren't Amazing Enough To Demand My Attention 2008.

Audience Award
Metallica Death Magnetic
Runaway winner for Album I Loved (But Not The Whole Thing division), and hands down my kids' Album Of The Year, which is worth an award in and of itself: "Dad, can we listen to metal?" YES WE CAN.

I was never a die-hard Metallica guy -- I came on board with "One" and the Black Album, just like every other Metalli-poseur -- but I always kinda paid attention to what they were up to. So when I heard that they were giving Rick Rubin the bridge, my inner riff freak was delighted. And for the most part, they didn't disappoint. Even though I really wasn't a fan of Side 2 -- save the ultrafast closer "My Apocalypse" -- Side 1 was a pitch-perfect mix of Metallica old and new. Kickass riffery all around. Extra points for shredding every night onstage well into their 40s, which is way more physically demanding than anyone realizes. Plus, the six songs that I loved clock in at just under 45 minutes -- longer than some of my top 10 albums.

Ehhhhhhhhh...No: Just Outside The Top 10 Records
Sigur Ros Whatever The Mess It Was Called In Icelandic, And Don't Act Like You Care
Beautiful as always, and easily their most accessible record. A really interesting directional shift that makes me really excited about the next record. Plus, butts on the cover!

Kings of Leon Only By The Night
Since when did touring with U2 and being obvoiusly influenced by them for your next two records become a liability? Caleb Followill's voice is still straight from Nashville, and that makes the record that much more interesting. Maybe on the cusp of a truly great record. (I'm sensing a theme here.)

Gary Louris Vagabonds
Or not. Gary makes his '70s L.A. record. Just a ton of really solid tunes and a great singer. It works every time...and his new record with Mark Olson just came out. Oh yeah. Side note: I never got to see the Olson/Louris Jayhawks live, but the guys did a duo tour a few years back that the missus and I went to see. Astounding. I have never heard harmonies like that from people that weren't blood relations.

Might Have Distinguished Themselves Given The Time: The I-Feel-Bad Records
The Cure 4:13 Dream
I have a feeling I'm really gonna like this one in the long run. It's raw -- they toured the record without keyboards! -- and rocking. Just didn't get to spin it enough.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!
Cave demands your attention, that's for sure. And so do kids. And there's some stuff you just can't play when they're in the car. Or in the house. Is that all I've got? I can't believe I just wrote that. How inescapably lame.

I Just Couldn't Get There: Records I Reeeeeeeeally Wanted To Like More Than I Did
My Morning Jacket Evil Urges
I've become enamored lately of taking albums that were almost great and rehabbing them in iTunes. Cutting tracks, changing sequences...I've become quite the post-producer. Urges will likely get that treatment. I absolutely believe that right now, they're the American Radiohead and one of our finest live acts, and there's some A++ stuff here, but the album's a few tracks heavy.

TV on the Radio Dear Science
This may be the textbook definition of "I Just Couldn't Get There": critically acclaimed (although less so than Return To Cookie Mountain, and I was kinda shocked to see it top both the Rolling Stone and Spin year-end lists), timely, innovative...and I just couldn't get there. I really have no reason why.

Hello Again (For The Record).

So I got a Facebook page, after many moons of feeling superior to social networking in particular and virtual community in general, and now, of course, I'm addicted. What can I say? All my friends' kids are totally cute!!! So I figured that this Skeet Ulrich of a blog would just be relegated to the trashbin of Interweb anonymity. (Or, it was there already and who cares.) But then I tried posting on the Facebook page and it was rather disappointingly antiseptic...just black words on a white page. I went back and looked at this old gal and call me crazy, but it's homey. Long story short -- too late -- here we are again. (Again.)

And now, today, I settle all family business. The unblogged Top 10 of 2007! Just in time for President's Day 2009! Instant retro.

10 // Voxtrot Voxtrot
09 // Kanye West Graduation
08 // Idlewild Make Another World
07 // Amy Winehouse Back To Black
06 // Wilco Sky Blue Sky
05 // Bruce Springsteen Magic
04 // Spoon Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
03 // Arcade Fire Neon Bible
02 // Radiohead In Rainbows

01 // Feist The Reminder

In my defense, In Rainbows is up for Album of the Year at this year's Grammys. So there. I'm as culturally relevant as the Grammys.


Image generously provided by The Wubbzy Institute.

Interludes. (interlude)

In the beginning, when confidence was high and the blogs were flowing like sweet bourbon from the verdant Kentucky hills, I had an innocent thought, and it went something like this:

Hey, I'm a pretty awesome blogger! And what a fantastically singular idea to post about my favorite albums from last year! But what if, in my never-ceasing stream of awesome blogs and singular ideas, I decide to write about something that's not related to music?

(Here, there was a short pause. Not too short, mind you. I'm hella smart.)

I've got it! To satiate the ravenous desire of my readers to plumb the chasmy depths of my musical insight concerning records that were released two to fourteen months ago, I'll caveat each non-music post with a saucy (interlude) tag.

Wow.

I am truly a triumph of human intellect.

It all made sense. And it worked. For a while. But then for a myriad of reasons (let's just call it "no good reason at all"...seems fair, and that way no-one's feelings get hurt), the system broke down. So here's the rumpus. The (interludes) are over. We'll get to the Top 10 of 2007 in time, I promise. It's kind of a boutique endeavor at this point anyway, so time isn't necessarily of the essence. And in the meantime, my exquisite, hand-crafted blog titles will stand on their own, free to sing their messages to the heavens.

Or at least to the camera on the lid of my laptop.

Can God Make A Tool So Big That Not Even He Can Shut It The Hell Up? (interlude)

Sorry I've been away. I've missed me too. (Is it both presumptive and ridiculous for a historically sporadic bloggarian like myself to apologize for being away for four days -- to a readership roughly equivalent to a pickup volleyball game? Whatevs.) I just had to leave those debate pics up top for a few days. Made me giggle.

James Dobson absolutely tears the ass out of me. What's the rumpus?, you ask. Well, it appears that Dr. Dobson might not favor us with his vote this November. Chickety-check it out. This guy makes me want to turn in my Jesus card. I just want to point out that one of the reasons Dobson says he won't vote for John McCain is that sometimes, he cusses. Are you f**king kidding me? (Sorry, Mom.) I mean, maybe it's a non-story; the ludicrous power of the Religious Right has waned considerably here in the twilight of Bush's Pre-Retirement Jamboree, as evidenced most strongly by the GOP frontrunners -- a moderate and a Mormon. For crying out loud, has there ever been a bigger example of the hypocrisy of so-called "Christian" politicians than all the Romney endorsements? Rick freaking Santorum just endorsed the guy! I mean, wouldn't a guy who wielded his Christianity as a weapon as much and as terribly as Santorum did have something to say about a freaking Mormon? Jesus must be cracking up, 'cause that's good stuff right there.

So, to sum up, James Dobson, regardless of how strenuously he makes the point that this is just one man's opining, is using his considerable influence and his considerably sized forum to encourage people not to vote. Awesome. What a f**king tool. (Again, sorry, Mom.)

Holy Crap, Pt. 3. (interlude)

"Oh, man! Is that 'F**k Tha Police'? That's my JAM!"

Holy Crap, Pt. 2. (interlude)

"Ohhhhhhhh, that feels good. I was holding it for so long."

Holy Crap. (interlude)

The best shot at the White House in who knows how long and the Pod People choose NOW to strike?

Man, it sucks to be a Democrat.

Top 20 of 2007: We Like Crazy

11. The White Stripes Icky Thump

If I'm being honest, I would not consider myself a White Stripes superfan. I'm always interested in what they're up to, and Jack White appears to be my kind of crazy; it's just that none of their records ever took me to that next level. Although you can't help but admire a guy that makes his records for thirty bucks and then sells a million copies, while holding on to all his copyrights. I believe I'll let him take me to dinner.

I approached Icky Thump with the same kind of pseudo-detatchment I throw at every new Stripes record, and you know what? It snuck up on me. When the White Stripes set their phasers to "rock," there's no experience quite like it: Jack's God-fearing stomp and wail; Meg's American primitivism. A brief note to Meg detractors: if you think a more polished drum sound would do anything other than make the Stripes common, you're out of your tree. Thus ends the lesson. Anyway, to the rocking. The sheer amount of gain on Jack's guitar, unofficial studies have shown, has an equal chance of rupturing your spleen or getting you pregnant. It's as if he found an amp where the gain went to 50, and then he found four more, and then he plugged them into an airplane. But the great thing about the White Stripes? He could also be playing through a twenty-dollar karaoke machine.

Jack and Meg are always good for at least one mind-bending single, and "Icky Thump," with its cracked-out keyboards and crack-the-sky riff, doesn't disappoint. The guitar solo toward the end actually made me lose a tooth. And it doesn't stop there: the metal-with-the-crusts-cut-off and fever lyric of "Little Cream Soda," the weirdo vaudeville act of "Rag and Bone," and the pitch-perfect cover choice "Conquest," which, incidentally, features the best guitar/mariachi duel anyone has ever heard. And, oh yeah, there are bagpipes.

Bagpipes.

Top 20 of 2007: Easy Listening

12. Ryan Adams Easy Tiger

I will now attempt to produce an original thought, a topic heretofore untouched upon in the vast virtual real estate of Blogdom:

Ryan Adams frustrates the hell out of me.

Not so much? Well, maybe next time. Not that I think he's in any danger of stumbling upon this particular undeveloped tract of Web and getting pissed, but I want to make clear that I think Mssr. Adams is a monster talent, and I even enjoy some records of his that others have taken behind the proverbial woodshed (lookin' at you, Rock N Roll). I also think that he is in dire, dire need of a top-shelf producer. I get the awesomes just thinking about a T-Bone Burnett-produced or a Rick Rubin-produced or even a Danny Lanois-produced Ryan Adams record. This, my friends, is what makes Easy Tiger such a pleasant surprise.

Coming in at just under 39 minutes -- see the last post -- Easy Tiger is the easiest Adams listen since Heartbreaker (unless you count Demolition, which, despite being billed as an odds-and-sods collection, hung together remarkably well as an album). The songs may not be as universally strong as Heartbreaker or the majority of Gold (I don't think I'll ever forgive him for putting that nine-minute stinkbomb dead in the middle of what could have been a certifiably classic album), but there isn't a misstep among them. From the sublime singalongs "Everybody Knows" and "Two" to the arresting, stark beauty of "Oh My God, Whatever, Etc." and rueful smile of "Rip Off," it just feels right. Welcome back, Ryan.

Top 20 of 2007: Blood Harmony: Not As Creepy As It Sounds

13. Eisley Combinations

The best case for nepotism currently operating in rock and roll today: The Dupree family, four siblings and a cousin from Texas, wrapping gorgeous melodies and swirling, dizzying harmonies around everything they touch. I fell in love with this band listening to their 2005 debut Room Noises, and like that record, there's not a bad song in the bunch on Combinations. Sure, they tend to write about woodland faeries and old ships and other Majestic Things, and there's an even chance that "Invasion" is actually about pod people. But when you do it in stunning three-part harmony (and further, sibling harmony, which is inestimably better), you can sing about whatever the eff you want.

I will also take this opportunity to talk about a little thing called Leaving Them Wanting More. It's my personal philosophy that it is exceeding difficult for an album under 40 minutes to suck. I mean really suck: one may be indifferent to an album like that, but come on. You can't really even say that it's a waste of time! (Don't get me started on all the people that "hated" Weezer's Green Album. A pox on all their houses.) So when an album as good as Combinations clocks in at 34:26, it's, as I believe the Chinese say, double happiness. You get in, you kick ass, and you get out...Leaving Them Wanting More.

In a related story, the new R.E.M. album (Accelerate, out April 1, ooooooooooh baby) is rumored to be 34 minutes long. That is all.

Top 20 of 2007: Cool Matters

14. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Baby 81

Full disclosure: I love this band. BRMC is one of those groups I just root for. Everyone has at least one of these bands. Here's an easy way to tell: If instead of "That album is shite," you find yourself saying, "I really need to revisit that record," then that's your band. I don't care who BRMC rip off, how pretentious they are, none of it. All I know is that they're unassailably cool. And cool goes a hell of a long way in rock and roll. The first exposure I had to BRMC (also cool, by the way: band names that can be abbreviated or shortened -- "Black Rebel" works too) was seeing them open for the Waterboys in Boston in 2001. Nobody had any earthly idea who these kids were, including us, and we were actually a bit salty that there was an opening act at all. When they hit the stage, though, we were hooked from minute one. Fuzzy, sexy, smoky, with songs that weren't so much songs as groove machines with no "off" switch -- in a word, cool. The first record, B.R.M.C., came out about a month later, and all of a sudden I had this new band to be excited about and share with less fortunate souls. Don't lie. You love that feeling.

After Take Them On, On Your Own (I really need to revisit that one) and Howl (an interesting blues-and-gospel-soaked, mainly acoustic change of pace) comes Baby 81, a glorious return to form. And as much as I despise "return to form" as a description of any album -- it's art, people, and art evolves -- I just wanted BRMC to rock me again. Well, Baby brings the rock. And the evolving as well. The grooves sometimes stray over into U2 territory ("Not What You Wanted," "All You Do Is Talk"), and they toss in a piano ballad ("Windows") for good measure. Hell, they even pull off a 9 1/2 minute song ("American X"), wherein the groove is broken into two pieces by (gasp!) some bitchin' soloing. I mean, it's fuzzy, slow soloing, but still.

Did I mention that I love this band?

Top 20 of 2007: Out of the Dark, Slowly

15. Mark Olson The Salvation Blues

Divorce is ugly.

In a world too easily desensitized to, well, everything, we often forget that a promise is a promise, and whenever that covenant bond is broken, it just plain hurts. I was shocked when I heard that ex-Jayhawk Olson and the sublime Victoria Williams had split. I was introduced to Victoria's music by my lovely wife, and I can truly say that I have never had the same visceral/spiritual reaction to seeing any artist as when Vic and Mark would ramble their family lovin' show into town (or when we would pack up and go find them somewhere along the road). We assumed that theirs was a forever story, and the news of their divorce was heartbreaking.

But joy comes in the morning, right? Sometimes. And sometimes you just remember the anguish of the day before. This is the space in which Olson gives us The Salvation Blues, a bittersweet rumination on loss and the redemption that can follow if you're brave enough to make it through the night. It's his first real solo record, as all seven(!) albums he put out after leaving the Jayhawks (under various versions of the Creekdippers name) were family affairs. There's not much new here musically, but it hardly matters when an artist has as compelling a sweet spot as Olson does. A true poet, he never shows all of his cards; even as a Jayhawk, his songs had a sweet mystery to them, and that trait continues here. Jayhawks mate Gary Louris shows up on a few songs, as he has been wont to do of late, and falls right into the glorious harmonies that made those early records so special.

I'm Just Sayin'. (interlude)

For anyone paying attention:

I have now exceeded my total number of 2007 posts, and it took only three weeks. Also, I now have enough posts that when you scroll down to the bottom of the page, you can click on "older posts."

I'm just sayin'.

Top 20 of 2007: The King Is Back

16. Jay-Z American Gangster

What does a rush of creativity sound like? Well, if your name is Shawn Carter, it sounds a lot like American Gangster, a positively massive record which had its genesis in a screening Hova took in of the Denzel Washington flick of the same name. (I haven't seen it yet, but i'm-a catch it at the dollar theatre. Star City -- holla!) He got inspired, and a few weeks later, boom. Another career highlight, a loose concept record based on his own personal "road not taken" story. Gangster is a course in savvy semi-autobiography, but leaves plenty of room left over to speak up on Don Imus. Whether he's out-stunting Lil' Wayne on "Hello Brooklyn 2.0" or riding with Nas over the freaky-deaky organ of "Success," Jay takes no prisoners. Nor, apparently, does he need hooks, as evidenced by the concise refrain of "No Hook": "I don't need no hook for this sheeeeeeit." (See?) And I didn't even mention the party-in-a-box horns of "Roc Boys (And The Winner Is...)," coming in just a hair behind Public Enemy's straight-out-of-nowhere "Harder Than You Think" in the "wildly exuberant horns that make you forget where you are and possibly embarrass yourself with public dancing" category.

(The PE record didn't make the Top 20, so I had to mention "Harder Than You Think." Nothing in 2007 rap made me happier than finding out that Chuck and Flav can still bring it in a big, bad way. A monster of a song that finds PE adding inspiration and poignancy to their always-righteous anger. Unreal. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled programming.)

Now, I'm not in the first million to speak on Jay's no-paper writing method and effortless flow -- everybody knows he's the best MC alive -- but come on. He's ridiculous. One of the most nakedly obvious facets of hip-hop is that it's a young man's game, but here comes Jay: still clever, still astonishingly fluid, still making genius beat choices. Gangster is a thinking record, on its feet for the whole 60 minutes, daring you to listen twice. It'll take more.

Top 20 of 2007: The New Guy

17. James Morrison Undiscovered

Hands-down, my favourite new artist of 2007. It's ridiculous to me that no one has really heard of this guy. (Unless all the people who have are lame or from VH1, in which case I obviously wouldn't know about them, since I don't associate with lame people. Or VH1 people.) At any rate, in a world being quickly and seemingly irreversibly drained of singers -- or maybe just overfilled with folks that have no business singing (looking at you, Brandon Flowers), this kid can flat-out blow. It's an unlikely package: He's 22, British (didn't you see the "u" in "favourite?") and a shaggy-haired dead ringer for Chris Martin, but Morrison's voice, a 70/30 split between Stevie and early Rod, is a revelation.

And the tunes! Sweet Lord, the tunes! Naturally soulful (no small feat), familiar without being cloying -- when did it become a crime to just write great songs? The strenuous avoidance of pop is just so damn trying to me. Listen to "Wonderful World" or "Under the Influence" and try not to sing along. Morrison also scores major points with "The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore," a knockout of a ballad that just underscores the fact that no one writes good ballads anymore.

Man, reading that back, maybe I should have ranked him higher.

Top 20 of 2007: Pop Factory Blues

18. Fountains of Wayne Traffic and Weather

Usually, a Top 20 list (or a Top Anything list, i imagine) isn't the venue to air grievances, but I have a problem with Fountains of Wayne. They're arguably the finest pop songwriters working today, and I am convinced that there is a perfect album hidden inside each of their four releases. When they bring it, they're untouchable. The problem, however, is this: there are, with the possible exception of their debut record, one to three "Come on!! Why??" songs on each album. Not bad songs -- just too many steps down from the rest of the material. A little bit of what I like to call not bringin' it. A modest proposal: some quality control. Not Ryan Adams-level quality control, mind you. Just a bit.

That said, Traffic and Weather is another near-perfect record, and the first that I would classify as a grower. It's kinda refreshing to have an FoW record reveal its charms slowly; usually, I just leave my money on the pop nightstand and marvel at the effortlessness of it all. But the thing that most consistently knocks me out is their uncanny ability to wring genuine emotion from the seemingly mundane. Sure, they're clever. Sure, they're funny. And every once in a while, they're good for a kick-ass guitar solo. It's that extra layer, though -- the big-city loneliness of "Someone to Love," the restless ache of "New Routine," the unabashed sweetness of "Michael and Heather at the Baggage Claim" -- that makes them extraordinary.

I also got to see them live for the first time this year, and through a series of random acquaintances, had nachos and beer with the band after the show. Superfluous? You bet. But hey, that's blogging, folks.

Top 20 of 2007: ...And They're Great Live!

19. Rogue Wave Asleep At Heaven's Gate

The missus and I saw Rogue Wave open for Feist last October and were immediately smitten. It was one of those heard-of-'em-but-never-heard-'em scenarios, and show led to album purchase led to "ooooooh this is good" led to this here post. Swimming in wide-open melody, chiming guitars and inventive arrangements, Gate was one of the year's easiest listens, front-loaded with gems like "Chicago x 12" and the hand-clappinest indie-rock song of the year, "Lake Michigan."

Top 20 of 2007: I Say "20," You Say, "Double Down"

20. The Shins Wincing The Night Away // Band of Horses Cease To Begin

Sometimes, you just gotta call it like it is: 2007 was a year full of disappointing records. I've never seen a year where so many of my favorite artists were slated to put out records, and I was freaking out at the possibilities. And then...not so much. So let's take a minute to recognize those who did not bring their "A" game in the '07. Hell, some didn't even bring their "B-" game, but that's another list. Here goes: Interpol! (Man, oh man) Bloc Party! (Mmm...you hate to see it) The New Pornographers! (That one hurt) Kings of Leon! (OK, this bit is tired -- speed it up) Also not making the grade in shocking fashion were The Innocence Mission, Over The Rhine, Lucinda Williams and Patty Griffin. Notice how I threw all the ladies in at the end? Yeah, I don't know why either. But enough carping. As with any year, there were sure shots that delivered and surprises you never saw coming. That's why we do this, kids. That, and free records.

Crap. I need to get me some free records. Well, on with the show.

I know, I know: co-20s. I can already hear you: "What's the matter, sissy boy? It's not a Top 21! Why don't you try again when you're not a woman?" (Oh, I know you. You would totally call me a sissy boy. Don't act like you wouldn't. Frankly, it demeans us both.)

Ahem.

The bottom of the list contains, really, two halves of the same coin: The January Album That Hasn't Really Been Played Out, But Still...and The Late Bloomer That You Are Powerless To Not Spin Over And Over But May Not Give A Crap About Six Months From Now.

See? Now who's a sissy boy? What's that? Still me? Damn. Shoulda seen that comin'.

In a year chock-full of potential awesomeness, Wincing The Night Away was 2007's shot across the bow and an attempt from Portland's never-miss kids to shake things up a bit. I grow tired of people who dismiss albums for not fitting "the band's sound," as if artistic growth was something to avoid. Now, Wincing wasn't Kid A or anything, but the hushed tension and noisy release of "Sleeping Lessons" was a great counterpoint to instant-classic Shinsy goodnesses like "Turn On Me" and "Australia." Not all the choices worked -- some songs were a bit proggy, of all things -- but James Mercer's melodic sense has yet to fail him. Or us.

I fell in love with Cease To Begin in my car. I never go far enough these days to get through an entire record, but Cease clocks in at under 35 minutes. Winner. Reminiscent of last year's Everything All The Time without being repetitive, the killer melodies and hazy, spectral beauty will get under your skin. Singer Ben Bridwell still sounds way too much like Jim James of My Morning Jacket, but damn if this record doesn't make for some fine night driving music.