The Aughts: Top 100

The list of the top 100 albums of the decade continues with numbers 50-21.

50. The Streets, Original Pirate Material [679; 2002]		What strikes me as odd, and very pleasant, is how well this album has aged. Considering the sounds (beaten-down Casio beats, plinking keys, and E'd up washes of synth) and words (delivered in Mike Skinner's brick-thick inimitable Birmingham brogue) contained within are almost aching to be tied to a specific moment in time, Pirate Material holds up wonderfully well seven years after its release. There is still a rush of goosebumps when he calls on the strings to rise in "Turn the Page", you still laugh at "The Irony Of It All", and feel melancholy during "Weak Become Heroes" and "It's Too Late". He fell victim to the inevitable fame machine and fell off in quality, but the debut is sterling.
49. Clipse, Hell Hath No Fury [Jive; 2006]		Stuck in limbo for years because it deglamorizes rap’s golden calf, the crack game, Clipse’s second album proper turns the cool factor down to an icy chill. Commercial aspirations for this album, considering the producers were the million-dollar-babies the Neptunes, were high: they were clearly not content to play radio's game. This is the Neptunes sound crystalised into an illicit substance, a Pyrex vision of rotten doors hanging on hinges, cracked concrete, and dead bodies in the front yard. The platinum they accrued in the first half of the decade was melted and poured into the vinyl grooves, a complete antithesis to their club tunes. The Thornton brothers in the meantime run off with the tracks, glassy-eyed narratives and uninterested crack hustlers, growing up from proteges to their own identifiable group in 44 minutes. The first eleven tracks are scorched earth: it is the final five of "Nightmares" that elevates this album into an Album. After eleven tracks of fulfilling expectations (fire beats + conflicted villains slinging crack), they give us a ballad affirming their humanity, an admission of guilt and confusion, uncertainty at the path they chose. There is no glamor in their game. They can never top this.
48. Opeth, Ghost Reveries [Roadrunner; 2005]		Swedish death metal godfathers Opeth had been releasing amazing metal albums for a decade: a move to Roadrunner and a flawless amalgam of their twin-fold sound would result in a breakthrough in the North American market with Ghost Reveries. The 10-minute opener "Ghost of Perdition" gives you a teaser of what is to come: punishing guitars and growled vocals, abruptly changing into clean and melodic singing and toned-down heaviness. It is a formula they perfect here, and it makes for one of the strongest metal albums in years.
47. Junior Boys, Last Exit [Domino; 2004]		This was one of the great musical experiences of my decade, the discovery of a unique, enchanting album that was perfectly suited for the winter semester at the university. I would take the train home past sunset, sitting in the warmth watching the snow fall in the dark, all the while immersed in the melodic lovelorn ballads and icy drum programming; it was an effortlessly European cool, cosmopolitan and detached music with confession lyrics, Jeremy Greenspan's velvet voice soothing away the pain. Over the years I've come to have qualms with the inconsistency of the sequencing, and Junior Boys bettered themselves without the beats - but I will never forget how important it was at the time.
46. Burial, Burial [Hyperdub; 2006]		In 2006, when Hyperdub was barely a year old, and the musical genre known as dubstep was hardly a set sound, its first great statement arrived in the guise of a nameless, faceless, sexless producer who carpet-bombed electronic music with a revolution. Singles that would have a week-long impact and disappear were all good at the time, but Burial's debut was the first time dubstep would gain creedence as a viable musical form capable of supporting a vision over LP length. We know know Burial was a "he", and was capable of even greater things. But as a unified debut of atmosphere, ambience, and startling clarity, Burial slays.
45. Richard Hawley, Coles Corner [Mute; 2005]		The hardest way to sing about heartbreak and melancholy is to do it without self-pity and bitterness. It is to Hawley’s infinite credit that this song cycle about the hope of love and its withering could sound like such a lovely and romantic album: his attention to detail and impeccable stylistic choices (early rock & roll and rockabilly, country, traces of the vintage-'40s pop, jazz, and even some blues) make this a warm, inviting hidden gem.
44. Annie, Anniemal [679; 2004]		One of the indelible pop treats of the past decade, this Norwegian singer/producer’s debut album wafted in like a breath of fresh air during an especially stale time in the pop world: here were real, sometimes painful, emotions and feelings in perfect capsules of pop music, delivered with impeccable taste.
43. Elbow, The Seldom Seen Kid [Polydor; 2008]		After a decade in existence, refining their sound into something wholly their own, Elbow finally released their debut album in 2000. After another eight years of critical acclaim for a string of solid albums and less than stellar sales, the band finally hit their zenith with this Mercury-winning gem. To be fair, any one of their four albums this decade could fill this slot, but the most recent is possibly the best, the culmination of unique instrumentation, lovelorn and gorgeous ballads, and Guy Garvey’s sad tenor into a stunning work of art, epic and personal at the same time. Their track record ensures a great decade to come.
42. Mastodon, Leviathan [Relapse; 2004]		If you wanted cutting edge musicianship and daring musical exploits played with acoustic instruments this decade, chances are you were turned on to the burgeoning metal scene. As the genres were slowly developed and clear lines were delineated between styles, certain bands took advantage of the expanded blogosphere and online-magazine coverage to carve a niche and earn some success on the side. One of those was Mastodon, and people lobby to name them the American band of the past ten years. Their sophomore album can be called speed sludge, or stoner aquatics: it is water-themed, and is loosely based on Melville's "Moby Dick". Their awesome fretwork and drum pyrotechnics found their ultimate muse: what is so metal about chasing, and being chased by, a giant white whale? After Mastodon kicked your ass, what wasn't metal about it?
41. Cut Copy, In Ghost Colours [Modular; 2008]		What is most exciting, and often most overlooked, about Cut Copy’s amazing sophomore album, is how much of an album it sounds. The obvious standout tracks are towering structures of pop perfection, but the sequencing could only have been created with a DJ’s ear for transition and flow. This album is a continuous cycle of pop songs and transitional pieces that demand and deserve to be listened to as a whole, and in the age of the iPod, that is a fantastic thing to strive for. Plus, the songs kick utter ass.
40. TV On The Radio, Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes [Touch & Go; 2004]		Instantly memorable name; instantly recognizable font; instantly great from the beginning. As all great debuts go, TV on the Radio's has way too many great ideas to ever work cohesively: the horns of "The Wrong Way" merging into the epic "Staring at the Sun"; the a cappella doo-wop of "Ambulance" born of the drone of "King Eternal" - it is an album whose individual parts become greater than the whole. The band's progression was hardly guaranteed; they could either refine the sound into something amazing, or end up a messy disaster. What would the future hold for these Brooklyn up-and-comers?
39. Broken Social Scene, You Forgot It In People [Arts & Crafts; 2003]		I could probably harp on and on about how this album "broke Canada", how all of a sudden Toronto and Montreal were hotbeds of exciting indie bands and forward-thinking artists co-existing in a heaving orgy of collaboration and freewheeling, how the foremost of them was a mutating 16-piece beast of multi-instrumentalists and vocalists creating an indie album produced in the bedroom aimed at the stars. But at the end of the day, what matters most is pressing play: listen for how super-producer Dave Newfeld cauterizes the chaos into a ramshackle masterpiece of sounds and melodies, shapeshifting and swirling nebulas of dreams. For its sheer scope and size, an excellent album.
38. Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot [Nonesuch; 2002]		YHF is so familiar after all these years that it is hard to imagine what the giant hoopla about the album was all about why the record label was so intensely displeased with it before its release. The slightly off-beat chug of "I'm The Man Who Loves You"? Surely the summer-pure chorus of "Heavy Metal Drummer"? The religious imagery and "tall buildings shake" line in "Jesus, etc."? Could be the electronic dissonance of "Ashes of American Flags", or "Radio Cure". Possibly the soft fade into Jeff Tweedy drunkenly intoning he is "an American aquarium drinker", one of the all-time great openings to any record. Irony of all ironies, and well deserved, this album would translate into Wilco's biggest success, and would allow them to carry on their experimental bent through the decade, for better or worse. I couldn't imagine the decade without YHF.
37. Four Tet, Rounds [Domino; 2003]		Saddled with a horrible subgenre name (folktronica), this masterwork by Kieran Hebden sowed the seeds of cross-genre experimentation that he would explore for the next few years: the organic blood of jazz experimentation and folk instruments, coupled with the digital realm of laptop-based hip-hop beats. The moments when the three come together in harmony (“My Angel Rocks Back and Forth”, “Unspoken”) are about as lovely as instrumental music would get this decade.
36. King Midas Sound, Waiting For You [Hyperdub; 2009]		Don’t let this album’s November 2009 release date stop you – I certainly didn’t. The Bug’s Kevin Martin is a highly eclectic producer of dubstep, ragga R&B and techno dread, and he used his “You & Me” from London Zoo as the jump off for a full-length collaboration with poet/singer Roger Robinson. The end result is one of magic, the inverse of London Zoo's dub mania, an album of heartache and paranoia, Robinson’s breathy high tenor contrasting with Martin’s stylish, varied and sublime production for 45 minutes of sustained smoky grooves. Dubstep, trip-hop, reggae – whatever it is, it is waiting for you to discover it.
35. Isolee, Wearemonster [Playhouse; 2005]		German producer Rajko Muller is often credited with making the first microhouse LP as Isolee in 2000. After waiting five years for an answer, it turns out he was busy rewriting the parameters of the genre, and recorded an album that lived up to its title. It is hard to describe the sound without listing half a dozen genres, but once you hit play, it makes sense. German efficient house filtered through 80s synth pop? IDM as played by little furry woodbeasts? Surely the grade-school drawing in the booklet suggest a massive joke. This is an album that is instantly familiar, yet never fails to yield new textures on every listen. I still don't remember where I found it, but I don't care: I wouldn't trade it for anything.
34. Interpol, Turn On The Bright Lights [Matador; 2002]		Interpol's M.O. was so ludicrously overblown as to have no choice but to succeed: mopey Factory Records-aping New Yorkers in head-to-toe black, releasing a debut so indebted to the past that they became their own sound, then promptly imploded and spent years picking up the pieces. Regardless of the criticisms (some earned), Interpol hit it on the head here, an elegant and stately statement of intent, a pleasant guitar interplay with melodic bass, and startlingly incoherent lyrics delivered in an empathic baritone. It will never cease to sound like New York circa 2002, uncertain and skeptical, sad in an upper-class way, forever indebted to its ancestors, perhaps an uncertain classic.
33. Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga [Merge; 2007]		It has been scientifically proven: Spoon were the decade's most consistent artists. In reality, any one of their four albums between 2002 and 2007 would fit just fine in here, so it is just a personal choice that puts their most experimental, concise and alternately most accessible album here on this list. It capped off their decade of success, with the WTF of "The Ghost of You Lingers" (aka. how far could we possibly mess with our sound and still sound like Spoon?), the Motown horns of "The Underdog", the brutally sly struts of "Don't You Evah" and "My Little Japanese Cigarette Case", and the raw spittle of "Don't Make Me A Target". Badass through and through.
32. Coldplay, A Rush Of Blood To The Head [Parlophone; 2002]		Discovering and cherishing Parachutes before Coldplay made it huge made this sophomore album all the more satisfying for me, and was a big reason why I not only named it 2002's best album, but why it has become such a modern classic in general. The band had a very tight line to walk: appease the original fans and expand the sound to win over millions more. With a more muscular sound (opener "Politik"), a healthy dash of rock ("A Whisper"), stunning ballads ("Amsterdam"), skyscraping anthems as singles ("In My Place", "Clocks", "The Scientist"), and a ferocious live act, Coldplay became the biggest British export since the Beatles. And I still love the album.
31. Bug, London Zoo [Ninja Tune; 2008]		This is an album that can barely be explained. Sure it's dubstep; it's from a guy who dabbles in electronic dub and reggae; it's vaguely a snapshot of urban London, circa '08; it features a lot of singers and dancehall toasters and rappers invoking doom. But to get the true feel of it, you need to stand in a room of speakers and crank the volume to 100. You need to feel the bass threating to dislodge your spine, the squeals of noise to burst your eardrums, a rumble of a voice repeating "evil" as if he were the devil himself. You need the salve of "You & Me" after the vitriol of "Fuckaz", the disorientingly off-key interpolation of "Mad World" at the end of "Insane", the brutal boom of "Jah War" and the hypnotic "Poison Dart". And most of all, it needs to be LOUD. The album may invoke barbed wire and doom, but you can dance and mosh your ass off to it. Incredible noise.
30. Outkast, Stankonia [LaFace; 2000]		I confess to not having visited Stankonia too often in recent years, but the day-glo scattershot ride remains vivid in my mind - it was an album I wore out in high school, and its wild turns of style, its hypocrisies and contradictions and utter truths will be there for generations to discover. This was southern hip-hop's finest duo firing on all cylinders, testing out any idea and often getting it right, loading their hydra-headed rap attack with slick R&B and 80s synth and napalm guitar and social commentary, with a whole heap of still-funny skits. I imagine Stankonia's appeal will be cyclical: after a few years away, I will be itching to return in full force.
29. The Field, From Here We Go Sublime [Kompakt; 2007]		The many tiny pop snippets that techno genius Axel Willner subverted and expanded into his blissful debut have been identified, much to my displeasure. Sure, the Flamingos sample in the title track is obvious, but did I need to know Lionel and Kate Bush are floating around somewhere in there? Creating a trance-like ecstacy out of making it sound like the record's skipping, Willner broke the shackles of trance's very limited palette and delivered a masterpiece, one that hit you right in the pleasure zone and made sure you were unable to turn away.
28. Luomo, Vocalcity [Force Tracks; 2000]		I won't pretend to be an expert at the many sub-genres of "dance music" that have proliferated across the past ten years. All I know is I constantly read "microhouse" and "cut & click" in any review of this album; I know I like it. In fact, I could even claim a love for this album: for its sheer hypnotic repetition that lulls you into security, and lets you shrug it off when you realize the track has been going for thirteen minutes and has subtly becoming something different altogether. I never danced to this album in a Hamburg disco, but I did pay an exorbitant amount to own it, and I've never regretted the purchase. This is melodic, rhythmic and soulful music, an album to cherish in the club or at home.
27. M.I.A., Kala [XL; 2007]		Maya Arulpragasam does not care about conventions. After her debut stormed the blogosphere and launched a sensation, she could easily have smoothed her sound for the mainstream and gotten huge. Instead, she released this bonkers bit of genre-smashing and internationalist rap-synth-pop, and became huge anyway. "Paper Planes" is a once-in-a-lifetime type of smash, and "Jimmy" is an indelible bit of Bollywood bounce, but it is the undefinable that makes Kala great: the avian maelstrom of "Bird Flu", the claustrophobic "Mango Pickle Down River" (and its indigenous child rappers), the New Order aping "XR2". Third-world imagery and anti-capitalism was nothing new to M.I.A., but this super-size effort will be a tough one to live up to.
26. Hercules and Love Affair, Hercules and Love Affair [DFA; 2008]		Disco is often misunderstood by the general public as a collection of white straight people in a colorful club, dancing in embarrassingly outdated ruffled shirts and three-foot lapels. Thirty years on, what people remember is John Travolta. But for many people who were there, disco was a celebration of life, predominantly by visible minorities of a non-straight sexual orientation. It also went horribly wrong as it transitioned into commercial aspirations, leaving the original heroes destitute and often dead. Hercules and Love Affair uphold the image and capture the wistfulness and feel of the era as it sounds three decades later: for a dance album with upbeat tracks, it is inundated with regrets ("Blind"), disconnection ("Easy"), confusion and rage ("Raise Me Up") and misplaced lust ("This Is My Love"). It is a feat that won't easily be replicated.
25. Ricardo Villalobos, Alcachofa [Playhouse; 2003]		Why have this album on here? What affinity could I possibly claim with this "minimal techno" album? During more creative stretches through the decade when I was receptive to different styles of music and downloaded stuff outside my comfort level, I occasionally came across some highly regarded gems that I grew to listen to frequently, and seek out the artist's (and comparative artists) discography. This was the case with Villalobos, who over the decade went on to create minimal music that made this sound album like Basement Jaxx. These are anti-anthems that you can't get out of your head, endlessly strange Latin beats that you continue to hum to yourself despite their intricacies. I won't try to explain or claim in-depth knowledge: like the artichoke its named after, this album has endless layers that continue to reveal themselves to me after years of enjoyment.
24. Sigur Ros, Agaetis Byrjun [PIAS; 2000]		How do describe a feeling? How do you describe Sigur Ros' music? Two sides to one coin; you could hardly have one without the other. Sigur Ros' music, especially this sophomore album, was too good to last (they are on indefinite hiatus as this is written, so we definitely did not deserve them), and you cannot write about them but stumble over words, trying to explain how it feels when the bass in "Svefn-g-englar" bursts in your chest, or the majestic fireworks of "Staralflur" explode over your head; the horns of "Ny batteri" and the bass of "Hjarato hamast" suffocate you before you float over the pastoral "Vidrar Vel Til Loftarasa" and party with the pan-pipe-toting elves of "Olsen Olsen". And if the title track isn't the most aching gorgeous song ever written, I surely haven't heard it. Could I explain Sigur Ros' music to you? No, but I could urge you to make your own feelings to it.
23. Portishead, Third [Island; 2008]		It would have been easy to ignore the comeback that possibly nobody was waiting for: after eleven years, the progenitors of a dead genre would release their third album. How could they possibly make something relevant for the Aughts' fractured dance scene that owes little to trip-hop's influence? Simple: throw it into the murkiest end of the pool and let it rust, then smash it to pieces and re-assemble into the most grotesque shape possible. It is possible Third was written strictly for the true fans – anyone looking for a downtempo chillout album likely turned it off by the second track. It is not all abrasive like first single “Machine Gun” would indicate, but even quiet moments like the intro to “Small” and “Deep Water” are deeply unsettling, full of menace and dread.
22. The White Stripes, Elephant [V2; 2003]		Jack and Meg White made a huge wave with their fourth album and first since national exposure: in the face of expectations, they polished off a blistering blues attack in two weeks, recorded on equipment from before 1965, and became international superstars (to a degree) thanks to it. After all the hype ceased and the music was left, it is still stunning how powerful it sounds: the simple, punishing drums, the scorched guitar tones, and Jack’s yelp, alternately howling and soothing. I acted as contrarian at the time, saying it wasn’t that great, but revisiting it makes it clear: this is the real deal.
21. At The Drive-In, Relationship of Command [Virgin; 2000]		ROC has twigs in its hair and blood on its hands; it could hardly predict its finality in At The Drive-In's story. Every band on the verge of breaking up should be called upon to create something to so incredible, on fire and thrashing to stay alive. The band has been known for its fervent live shows, and for the first time that energy and unpredictability was channeled digitally: they were called the new Nirvana and were the choice band to take the mantle from the boorish nu-metal of the time. Instead they split a year later, and this album's manifesto influenced an entire decade's worth of inferior tempo-shifting sonic adventurers. If this is labelled emo, it is surely the loudest of its kind; if post-rock, the fastest; if just rock, then too good for its trappings. It remains simply incredible.

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