The Aughts: Top 100

A continuation, wherein we discover more gems from the past decade.

75. Daft Punk, Discovery [Virgin; 2001]		Or, help me I’m a robot. Initially dismissed as lightweight fluff in a decade made suddenly serious by outside forces, Daft Punk’s sophomore album is nothing if the purest distillation of joy on plastic, an un-ironic happy hour of robot rock, Vocoders and “Digital Love”. One day, when the world remembers that cynicism is no fun, maybe Daft Punk will play the soundtrack.
74. Engineers, Engineers [Echo; 2005]		Until the last few weeks of December 09, I had mostly forgotten to hope for a new Engineers album. That such a great debut could come from nowhere (well, somewhere in England at least), from a band whose members I couldn't name, with no liner notes or information, then promptly disappear, would have made a terrific story. One of the better albums to make use of the shoegazer aesthetic this decade, Engineers lived up to their name in constructing an epic cathedral to the sky, supported on pillars of Spiritualized, Ride and My Bloody Valentine - lush guitar and keyboard textures, with honest to goodness pop songs. "Come In Out Of The Rain", "Forgiveness", "Waved On" - some of my favorite tracks of the past ten years, unimpeachably great.
73. Matias Aguayo, Ay Ay Ay [Kompakt; 2009]		A dance record born of the streets, Matias Aguayo's second long-player is one of the most unorthodox techno albums you'll ever encounter. The primary building block is his voice, which he uses as bass, or beats, or high-pitched melodic motifs, and incorporates them into off-kilter Latin-based rhythms coupled with krautrock beats. Sounds like a car crash on paper, but on vinyl it is completely organic and utterly addictive, one of the great street parties and a future classic.
72. Echospace, The Coldest Season [Modern Love; 2007]		Ambient music is one of my favorite genres: from Eno to Aphex Twin to the Orb to Gas, some of the albums I listen to the most are in the ambient genre. It may be a disservice to call it background music, but there is no doubt they sound great as white noise when driving, sleeping or reading. My search for ambient albums unearthed this gem: research tells me it is a collaboration between two producers I haven't heard of, who represent Detroit and Chicago, and created an album of Detroit field samples set to a dubby, echoey soup of comforting (or disorienting) ambience. Whatever. The album is a spacey trip that sounds great on headphones, and I recommend it to anyone into trips to space.
71. Franz Ferdinand, Franz Ferdinand [Domino; 2004]		I had long lauded this debut as one of the defining albums of the decade, with a lynchpin moment: the somewhat Strokes-y opening that lurched into a locked-down groove on “Take Me Out” and continued abashedly mixing indie rock with a disco stomp, all funky bassline, glitzy lyrics and menacing charm. This was the beginning of the dance-rock craze that swept many bands up in its delights, and it remains the best example of it. It is very likable to this day, and I suspect it will remain a classic for years to come.
70. FaltyDL, Love Is A Liability [Planet Mu; 2009]		New York’s shot across the bow in the dubstep genre, FaltyDL (aka. Drew Lustman) creates an amalgam of jungle and 2-step, and filters it through dubstep’s wobbly production for a skittering, emotional masterpiece of the genre. Lustman has an ear for atmosphere, and small moments constantly surprise: the album starts with the icy “Human Meadow”, but progresses forward with wistful synths (“To New York” could be a classic Orbital track) and straight beats, detached human voices and buried melodies (“The Shape to Come” is appropriately future-shock). The sheen sounds as great on headphones as it does on a huge sound system.
69. Blackalicious, Blazing Arrow [Quannum; 2002]		Like a flower grown from rich soil, the Quannum collective gave birth to Blackalicious’ second album, a flawless 74-minute block party that brought equal parts hip-hop classicism and live instrumentation, topics that ranged from overcoming strife to love and positivity, with a generous spirit that was diverse and warm. Xcel produces the album and keeps their unique California spirit, with a bevy of guests who push the album to ecstatic heights. Pound for pound the most joyful and enjoyable hip-hop album of the decade.
68. DJ/rupture, Uproot [Agriculture; 2008]		After making a name for himself for spastic mash-up mixes like Minesweeper Suite, DJ/rupture mellowed right out for this antithesis to Girl Talk’s buckshot approach. rupture is in a dub state of mind here: leaden bass, skittering beats, and a pan-global approach that can’t help but become political. But of course, being rupture, he uses the general feel and goes off on intriguing tangents: Ekkehard Ehlers’s Beatlesque “Plays John Cassavetes Pt. 2” becomes the lovely two-minute centerpiece, Jenny Jones’ chamber music “Capilano Bridge”, Quest’s propulsive afrobeat, the final three tracks of come-down post-rock; all come together in a melting pot of international intrigue and flawless sequencing, making it one of the best mix albums of the decade.
67. Panda Bear, Person Pitch [Paw Tracks; 2007]		What I like about Panda Bear's album is how year-round it is; this is a rare piece of music that sounds great in any season, whether its the rebirth of spring, the heat of summer or the colors of fall. It is a combination of techno elements and dreamy guitar pop, floating samples and Beach Boy-esque harmonies, the most melodic parts of his day job's aesthetic and the sound that would come to dominate AC's future albums. Time will tell how I feel about it, but a great listen.
66. Lindstrom, Where You Go I Go Too [Smalltown Supersound; 2008]		Swedish producer Hans-Peter Lindstrom is a huge factor in the decade’s future-retro space disco production, with propulsive beats and thick blankets of synth. Although he would reach even more ridiculous lengths (a 42-minute version of “Little Drummer Boy”, anyone?), this album of three tracks, spread over 55 minutes (technically his debut album), is his greatest accomplishment to date. The title track clocks in at half an hour, but the entire album needs to heard as a single track, subtly divided: there are melodic motifs repeated throughout, and although there are upwards of seventy layers of live and electronic sound at any one time throughout, it is always sleek and engaging rather than stuffy. Designed to be listened to while traveling, you could just as easily lie on the couch with good headphones and enjoy the ride.
65. Fennesz, Endless Summer [Mego; 2001]		Awash in static, scratchy analogue sounds and the faintest hints of melody, laptop artist Christian Fennesz created an album that sought to explore how memories could rust and fade over time, yet still be recalled as snatches of moments, uncertain and out of focus, lingering in your vision like shadows of a phantom. The reissue’s cover art matches the title and the overall feel of the album: it sounds like a setting sun, the primary color is orange turning to red, the feeling is of wonderment.
64. Sufjan Stevens, Illinoise [Asthmatic Kitty; 2005]		One thing you can't fault Sufjan Stevens for is a lack of generosity. At least at the time of this album's release; he has been nearly absent for the better part of five years since this paean to Illinois unleashed critical orgasms. He has recently admitted the idea of making an album for 50 States was a joke, but what a grand joke we got out of it: paragraph-long song titles, a "Played by S.S." list of instruments that reads like sections of an orchestra, the deeply researched content - all point to a savant running loose. His unbridled creativity is seen in his eschewing traditional song structures, clicking with complex time signatures and diversions, straightforward pop songs juxtaposed with multi-part mini-symphonies and instrumental passages - all the while pulling forth an army of key Illinois figures to tell the story. It may have taken him months to record, but it will take a lifetime to treasure its riches.
63. Gas, Pop [Mille Plateaux; 2000]		One of the great musical pleasures of my Aughties was discovering the re-release of Gas' discography in the Nah Und Fern box set in 2008, and as such, it feels strange to disconnect his final work as a separate album. There are few noticable changes throughout Wolfgang Voigt's career as Gas, but Pop feels more starkly organic than the previous three, in a sense that you feel as though you are in a dense, humid jungle, with the ever-present Gas Orchestra in the background. There is less bass, it is less harsh than previous albums; there is almost no "theme" to the songs (as, say, Brian Eno's has a distinct theme song), but for 66 minutes (or four hours if you own the box), you breathe the music and let it immerse your soul. A must for any ambient fan.
62. Hot Chip, The Warning [DFA; 2006]		Signing to DFA Records for US releases changed Hot Chip’s quirky pop sounds to a more streamlined dance attack, with a particularly tasteful ear for big hooks and pop friendly songs. Thankfully, there is still a good amount of disorientation, especially on the title track’s use of violent lyrics, contrasted with soft electronic melodies. Not to mention killer tracks like "Boy From School" and "Over & Over." Cerebral and enjoyable.
61. Melchior Productions Ltd., No Disco Future [Perlon; 2007]		This is space, the endless cold black vacuum that you are sucked into without warning and where you float oblivious. Or this is a spaceship whisking you away at the speed of light, the console a gleaming array of blinking lights and bright white curved surfaces. It is unobtrusive - indeed, on a first listen in a loud environment I could not ever discern there was anything playing in my earphones - but it is immaculate, and repeated visits will beam it into your brain and let you enjoy the trip.
60. Doves, Lost Souls [Astralwerks; 2000]		Although losing all of your equipment and studio in a blaze is hardly the best thing that could happen to a band, Sub Sub took it in stride, and soon after became one of the best British bands that will never earn their true accolades. Their decade of great albums, and often even better singles, began on this luminous debut that saw widescreen melancholy rock coupled with the slightest hints of their dance past: opener "Firesuite" is a wordless crescendo of guitars and plinking keys; "Sea Song" sways like its title; "Melody Calls" is pure pop class; and the one-two punch of "The Man Who Told Everything" and "The Cedar Room" are the types of bittersweet anthems that they would go on to write in their sleep. An ambitious, epic debut that would build a solid base for Doves' upcoming successes.
59. Tool, Lateralus [Volcano; 2001]		Erudite prog-metal fans salivate for a new Tool release: the LA band takes years making each offering, and each time the results become something to cherish, an exceptional head-trip of musical prowess and lyrical reflection. They sanded away the extreme experiments of Aenima for a more focused and harder attack, embracing Eastern influences and moments of Zen-like calm between the thunder. I am still digesting.
58. Dizzee Rascal, Boy In Da Corner [XL; 2003]		It's hard to remember what made this album such an instant classic until you press play. Then, you are again immersed in a swamp of early-aughts UK grime, listening to the hyper-speed rhymes of an 18-year-old Dylan Mills, marveling at his dexterity and surprisingly deep examination of the psyches of a fragile teen born into lower-class life. You hear the compositional tact of his beats: an unholy mix of bleeps, boops, ringers, and video game consoles, spiraling synths and Billy Squire beats. You hear the joy he gets out of the music, and the hopeless resignations of the poverty and violence he has witnessed - but will go on to escape through music.
57. Aaliyah, Aaliyah [Blackground; 2001]		Aaliyah had been a platinum princess since she was 15, but throughout her all-too-short career, she was the avatar for others to push their vision: first R. Kelly, then Missy & Timbaland. For her third and final album, she established a greater hold on her vision, and crafted an album that is front-loaded with enough greatness (the snaky "We Need A Resolution", the future R&B of "More Than A Woman", the icy gleam of "I Care 4 You") to justify the gloriously experimental second side (the run from "It's Whatever" to "What If" still sound like nothing else). It was the promising first step in a career destined to be great; it has to settle for being an epithet, a ghostly call from the grave of a unique talent gone too soon.
56. The xx, xx [Young Turks; 2009]		The last great debut in a decade full of spectacular flameouts, this unassuming London quartet, barely in their twenties, crafted an album of stunning restraint and quiet power, a lover’s conversation with a beautiful use of negative space. In a decade that saw bands rise and fall based on their image, the xx made their name on the music – and that itself speaks volumes about this album’s magic.
55. Flying Lotus, Los Angeles [Warp; 2008]		Like its unidentifiable cover art, Flying Lotus' second long-player is imposing, intimidating, and hard to make sense of. What we can clearly hear is electronic music and instrumental hip-hop coming together again; dusty break beats and scratchy samples mixed with squiggly electronic noise, prompting a confused tilt to the head, a raised eyebrow, or simply a continued tapping of the foot. The ideal way to hear this album is on vinyl: in time, the hisses and pops of the record grooves should merge beautifully with the intricacies inside the music. A fantastic next-level journey.
54. Booka Shade, Movements [Get Physical; 2006]		Like its contemporary the iPod, Booka Shade's long-player is a mix of style and functionality. Techno albums can be saddled with myriad sub-genre classifications, and are often saddled with being the sound of a very specific era. In Movements's case, the era is mid-decade Berlin, when dance floor viability and melodic exploration were comfortably merged by certain artists on certain labels. However, it is their musical approach (more melodic and song-based than most) here that give the album a timeless quality: it is just as enjoyable today as it was back then. Booka Shade have a very clean and streamlined sound on this album: there are no end to the bangers ("Night Falls", "Body Language", "Mandarine Girl"), and the album flows seamlessly.
53. Goldfrapp, Supernature [EMI; 2005]		Goldfrapp made a strong case to be regarded as the decade’s resident oddball, a restless, relentlessly changing pop entity changing sounds like a snake sheds skin, along the way influencing a whole generation of headband-rocking female passing flavors that never acknowledge their infinite debt to the divine Alison. From the suave John Barry trip-hop of Felt Mountain to the electroclash wolf porn of Black Cherry, it wasn’t too hard to see this coming: what surprised was the overall success and pleasure that Supernature never fails to elicit. Every single song – most a delirious mix of retro-futurist space disco and krautrock metronomic severity – reaches a new high, and they are among the finest pop creations of the decade.
52. Studio, Yearbook 1 [Information; 2007]		Studio are a Swedish duo who can probably lay claim to kickstarting the Balearic craze in late 00’s music circles. Upon a listen to this album, it is hard to imagine anyone topping it: a perfect mix of shorter pop songs with lyrics, and blissed-out, krautrock-like instrumentals reaching into double digit minutes. “No Comply” could be New Order without the embarrassing lyrics; “Out There” chugs along for seven minutes before it collapses into a dub echo chamber of bliss; and “Indo” is the perfect nine-minute comedown after it all. The icing on the cake is the bass: perfectly recorded, and delicious. It is rock, it is electronic, it is space disco, it is wonderful.
51. Basement Jaxx, Rooty [Astralwerks; 2001]		Two pranksters from London who had turned the dance music world on its side with their debut made heads spin with the follow-up, a glittery day-glo mélange of skittish electro, blissed-out house, Gary Numan-driven raveups and the most satisfying Prince approximations since the Purple One himself. The Jaxx would eventually take a lot of flack for their rampant maximalism, which always walked a thin line between genius and depravity, but they struck a perfect balance over 43 minutes here, and even genre experiments like the flamenco flavored "Broken Dreams" sound great in the context. House music would rarely sound so joyous again.

PAGE 3 CONTINUES ---->