Battles
Mirrored

(Warp)

Animal Collective has churned out one great album after another for years now, so it’s always tempting to brace yourself for a letdown when a new one comes out. Will the bubble burst? Not on Strawberry Jam. Indeed, the band’s latest is explosively melodic and oddly accessible. Here the foursome, consisting of Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Deakin and Geologist, are just bizarre enough for die-hard fans but will undoubtedly fascinate new ones with their affinity for eccentric vocals, driving rhythms and odd arrangements that shouldn’t work but somehow do. The album opens with the cheerfully sinister “Peacebone,” a sentimental monster story with Wizard of Oz vocals and hypnotic drums. The rest of the album runs the gamut from waltzing freak-outs to guitars that sound like crickets. Avey Tare’s vocals are screamier and more compelling; the rhythms are more syncopated and gleefully jarring while retaining the essence of their previous albums. But it’s no longer just the soundtrack to a reverie. It’s amazing, but Animal Collective just keeps getting better and better. (Faith)

Lots of records were hyped to death this year, and lots didn’t pass muster. One big exception was Arcade Fire. The test of any band’s mettle is whether they can follow up the success of a debut (2004’s Funeral) with an even better album. Arcade Fire aces that test with the riveting, majestic Neon Bible. The headlong momentum of “The Well and the Lighthouse” will sound familiar, as will the ear-grabbingly straining, sincere singing of Win Butler, but there is much here that finds this already ambitious band becoming even more daring. Using pipe organ on “Intervention” and “My Body Is a Cage” epitomizes this band’s willingness to say the hell with indie-rock rules and grab for all the sonic splendor they can. The strings, horns, piano, and choir on “Windowsill” are adeptly applied to a track that could just as easily have been just acoustic guitar, but they help it build a mighty crescendo of rejection. “No Cars Go” has some shoegazey guitar floating amid more horns, plus accordion, capped by the shouted dual vocals. And it’s not just that they’ve (probably) got a bigger production budget this time out; the songwriting’s better, more assured. Yes, better than Funeral, much better. (Steve)

We were a little alarmed that Zach Condon, a.k.a. Beirut, returned so quickly with a follow-up to last year’s monumentally successful Gulag Orkestar. He’s still a baby, after all (he still can’t legally get a drink at the Sound Fix Lounge), and he’s been touring heavily. No need to fear. With the voice of a disheartened gypsy trudging by foot through Eastern Europe, the youngster prodigy behind Beirut weaves his weighty emotions into wonderfully baroque songs on The Flying Club Cup. Since Gulag, Condon has developed as a musician, giving The Flying Cup Club stronger vocals, sharper lyrics and more distinctive, memorable melodies. Able to tweak and experiment, Condon’s traded in his trumpets for French horns and his ukulele for accordions and organs, to create a sometimes more jazzy, sometimes more classical sound. Slightly different, this album is equally as charming and old-worldly. It peaks with “A Sunday Smile,” which was written around the broken keys of an old organ in New Mexico, and “Nantes,” which turns broken-hearted nostalgia into rich sound worthy of a gentle head bob. (Margi)

We don’t always get things right at Sound Fix, but when we predicted back in the spring that this would be one of the sleeper hits of the year, boy, were we right. A terrific mix of shoegaze, post-rock and indie pop, the second album from Montreal’s Besnard Lakes creeps up on you suddenly, its first two tracks awash in strings and soothing, Beach Boys-esque harmonies, and then … bang. The third track, an eight-minute epic of soaring guitars and spaced-out jams, brings to mind everyone from My Morning Jacket to 70s-era Pink Floyd. Not an easy song to follow, but with “Devastations,” Besnard Lakes manage to top themselves, as vocalist Olga Goreas delivers a volcanic turn amid a fury of guitars and drums. The album is wonderfully eclectic; Besnard Lakes bring a broad palette of styles to the table – from classic psych to West coast pop to raw British-invasion rock – while crafting a sound all their own. Always shifting, always changing, The Besnard Lakes Are the Dark Horse is a gorgeous tapestry of sounds, reminiscent of Broken Social Scene’s You Forgot It In People in its sheer exuberance. Now that we got one prediction right, let’s make another: the Besnard Lakes will go on to big things. (James)

Volta is Björk’s most accessible album since Vespertine and overall one of the finest achievements in her storied career. The far-out ingredients on Medulla and the Drawing Restraint soundtrack are poured into song structures with beats underneath. It’s the best of both worlds, really. All musical styles – no, make that all sounds – are fair game, including the electric likembé and homemade percussion of Konono No. 1, the eerie vocals of Antony, pipa by Min Xiao-Fen, kora by Toumani Diabaté, clavichord, and beats by Timbaland, longtime Björk collaborator Mark Bell, Lightning Bolt drummer Brian Chippendale, and more. “Earth Intruders” is as freaky as anything on the new CocoRosie. “Declare Independence,” with distorted electronics, a pounding rhythm, and Björk’s screamed vocals, is harsher and more hard-hitting than anything on the new Nine Inch Nails. Plenty of variety, yet it all coheres into yet another brilliant Björk album. (Steve)

The band that gave us one of our favorite in-stores of the year has also given us one of our favorite records. Never has an album cover been more representative of a band’s music: Black Moth Super Rainbow’s third full-length album, Dandelion Gum, pictures a rainbow colored melting face blowing bubbles. Indeed, the band have put to sound the tale of a weird candy made by witches in the woods, whilst keeping their trademark non-linear song structures and vocoded vocals. The aptly titled “Wall of Gum” could be a track for an obscure French soundtrack played by electronic redneck zombies whilst “Lost, Picking Flowers in the Woods” offers a jazzy Wurlitzer riff and robotic pulsing drums a la Silver Apples. It appears that, imitating sonic pioneer Bruce Haack, Black Moth Super Rainbow have rounded up the neighborhood children to sing along eerie lullabies and play unhinged riffs on homebuilt synthesizers. So come on, get high on the Dandelion Gum and enjoy the slow and discordant, yet always melodic, saccharine musical comedown. (Morgane)

The best album of Blonde Redhead’s illustrious career captures the band at its absolute peak – never before have they been able to balance their avant-rock sound with an impeccable pop sheen. The album kicks off with the outstanding title track, perhaps the band’s finest, a tune chock full of buoyant synth undertones led by a driving percussion bouncing between snapshot fills and backbeats. Throughout, 23 maintains Redhead’s patented guitar aptitude but ventures into attractive and unexplored territory, substituting overdoses of angular guitar work for smooth, sleek textures, propped by guitar pings and rhythmic fuzz. A linear album replete with flowing atmospherics, a few characteristic six-string shreds and melodious climbs, 23 welcomingly lacks the frenzied Sonic Youth-esque guitar chatter of previous efforts for a fresher, more original sound. Redhead even offers some psych here and there, composing a swaying world of effects and soothing instrumentation (check out the Sgt. Pepper’s pomp in “SX”). “Silently” could pass for a Top 40 pop hit from the 80s, bringing vocalist Kazu Makino’s attractive vocals to new heights, fooling even the seasoned listener into a twee-realm until the guitars ring in, ushering an undercurrent of lofty sonics. 23 is a brilliant record destined to be remembered as one of 2007’s finest releases. (Billy)

The most critically acclaimed electronic record of 2007 actually lives up to its billing. Dubstep whiz Burial (no one really knows who this fellow is) has just released the perfect soundtrack to the duality of inner-city life, a mixture of euphoric two-step syncopations and melancholic vocal samples. Untrue conjures up images of a late-night, drizzly British city and the slow release of energy after going clubbing, as exemplified by the morose comedown of “In McDonalds” with its floating keyboards soundscapes. The opening track, “Archangel”, and its crackly drum machine beats establishes the feel of the entire album, which is coated in fuzzy static, lending a lo-fi feel to the crisp production. The album’s trademark heavily processed vocal lines and creepy whispering voices also capture the emergency of real life, as Burial favors sampling his friends singing acapella or in their cell phones over using professional studio singers. With its sublime mixture of UK garage, dubstep and R&B, accentuated by an adventurous production, Untrue is a beautifully bittersweet and poetic ode to urban life. (Morgane)

Sometimes with the passage of time you go back and listen to a record you initially liked and go, “eh.” Sometimes with the passage of time you go back and listen to a record you initially liked and go, “Wow, this is one great record.” The latter is most definitely the case with Andorra, the latest bizarro work from one-man electro-pop wonder Dan Snaith, better known as Caribou (formerly Manitoba). So intricate and heavily layered is this psychedelic-tinged glop of songs that it demands repeated listenings to absorb it all. The exuberant wash of noise is far more vintage-tinged than anything he’s released to date, thanks in part to the layered vocal harmonies and intricately crafted melodies, but the subtly innovative electronic edge and spot-on production keeps it fresh. Standouts include the gleefully sentimental “She’s the One,” complete with the most earnest sleigh bells you’ll hear this year, and the sitar-laced “Eli” that sounds straight out of 1967. With his sixth release, Snaith is at his most accessible, but not for lack of experimentation. The sometimes kaleidoscopic sound structure remains firmly rooted to the melody, and the overall bliss-fest is nearly irresistible. (Faith)

Celebration’s second album is not only an absolute triumph, it’s also a marked improvement over their debut, which was a fine record in its own right. This Baltimore three-piece is (deservedly) known for its live act, but that will no longer be the case if they keep churning out great records like Modern Tribe. For such a small lineup that band manages a big sound, with layers of guitars, organs and horns giving the music a rich, soulful texture. The driving grooves of “Pony” and “Fly the Fly” are pure adrenaline (the latter smoldering with guitars), while the subtle sounds of “Heartbreak” and “Pressure” are the record’s real highlights, led by the remarkable Katrina Ford on vocals. She’s the band’s true star, a singer who can capture the imagination with sheer energy and passion, delivering each song with a bravura unique in pop music today. Stunning. With contributions from members of TV on the Radio, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Antibalas. (James)

North Star Deserter is a gorgeous, brooding return to form for the brilliant singer/songwriter Vic Chesnutt. Cliches like “woefully overlooked” were invented for artists like Chesnutt, whose acerbic lyrics, austere, Gothic-tinged melodies, and sweetly pungent vocals have inspired unparalleled devotion in, not the legions his talent deserves, but a small and loyal following. Even his fans have had much to grumble about over the past decade, however, as the consistent brilliance of his albums began to fade with the release of major-label debut About to Choke in 1996. Five studio albums later, even the most hopeful Chesnutt fans weren’t expecting such a glorious recovery. But North Star Deserter is that and more, an inspired collaboration with a motley crew of Constellation labelmates and others, including members of Silver Mt. Zion, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, and Fugazi. The ensemble adds richness and depth that serves Chesnutt’s simple melodies and spare vocals well. Coming almost twenty years into his career, North Star Deserter may well be Chesnutt’s finest work. (Anna)

The fun part of putting together a list of your favorite albums of the year is that you get to revisit those special moments when you first heard these great records. Except in the case of the Clientele, I didn’t have any one moment to revisit, since this record has been playing nonstop in the store and in my home and car since it came out in the spring. There’s a word for an album like this: perfect. The highly melodic indie pop of Alasdair MacLean’s Clientele has reached its zenith on God Save the Clientele, the band’s third full-length and easily its best. Recorded in Nashville with producer Mark Nevers (Lambchop, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Calexico, Silver Jews), God Save still shows the band’s Monkees fixation going strong (the fabulous opening track brings to mind “Daydream Believer” immediately), but several new twists are added here, from bits of country twang, power pop and experimental indie rock, resulting in a great record that should bring this criminally underappreciated band to a whole new audience. Don’t deny yourself this one.

After five long years, Cornelius releases magic into the world once again! A playground of sounds and more synthfully delicious than ever, Sensuous is the Japanese pop-pastiche master’s first album since 2002’s Point. Keigo Oyamada (a/k/a/ Cornelius) intelligently combines electro funk, synth pop, Shibuya punk, soothing lullabies, layered vocals and photocopier samples to create a gourmet platter of his most texturally intricate work to date. Though the multitude of lines, loops and fragments seem more like an abstract sonic painting, there is still a definite thread in this collection of music. And yet despite all of the offbeat hustle and bustle on the album, Oyamada breaks it down with a few tranquil, almost transcendental numbers (“Omstart” is a perfect example), not to mention an amazing cover of the Rat Pack’s “Sleep Warm,” sung in vocoded vocals. What could be more relaxing? There’s even a bonus music video for your viewing pleasure! Sensuous is a sheer work of genius. Don’t keep us awaiting another five years, please … (Tammy)

With vintage psychedelia a booming genre lately and reissue labels looking to more and more obscure scenes for material, the late ‘60s/early ‘70s pop-psych that came out of Cambodia was documented on the compilation Cambodian Rocks (the most famous; there have been others with better documentation) and has found a lot of fans, including a bunch of guys in Los Angeles who formed a band playing that style. When they found an authentic Cambodian pop star living in L.A., Chhom Nimol (who sings mostly in Khmer, though she essays some English on this album), who agreed to be their vocalist, they went from an amusing idea to a thrilling reality. When they moved from all covers to, on this disc, mostly originals (the exception being the Ros Serey Sothea classic “Tip My Canoe”), with Ethiopian music added to the mix here and there, they became not just lovable but admirable, both fun and exciting. (Steve)

Spectacular. Talk about a record coming out of nowhere! A surprisingly rockin’ record from Kranky, the label who in the past few years have been known for a steady output of electronica, ambient and minimalist statements, Atlanta’s Deerhunter is something different altogether, a pounding mix of dosed-electronic wash somewhere between My Bloody Valentine and Brian Eno and a neo-punk-garage-indie-wiggle nestled amongst The Faints’ snottiness and the Velvet Underground’s simplicity and cyclical pulse. Enough head-bobbing songs to give it cohesion and enough weird landscapes to keep the listener confused/amused/intrigued, Cryptograms was one of the great debuts of the year.

Imagine, a reunion that not only worked but was as good as the original incarnation. Yes, that actually happened with the long-awaited Dinosaur Jr. album. You have to be careful with nostalgia – for all the warm memories the past can conjure, there’s the danger of getting mired in pining for the good ol’ days when music really mattered, blah, blah, blah … When I heard recently that the new Dinosaur Jr. record, the band’s first with original members J Mascis and Lou Barlow in nearly 20 years, sounded as fresh and vital as their music in the 1980s, I was skeptical. Of course, the PR flaks would say that, and nostalgia can have a corrosive effect on our judgment. Except in this case, it’s true. The opening guitar riffs of the album’s lead track and first single, “Almost Ready,” produced a rush of joy in me, as if the year were 1987 and the band was on SST again. Yes, it’s all there. The reuniting of the original trio has really brought out the best in everyone here, giving us in Beyond a splendid record as good as anything the band ever put out.

Chances are, you know the genesis of this record by now: lead Projector Dave Longstreth finds old copy of Black Flag’s Damaged sans cassette; decides to record the entire album from memory; hilarity ensues. (Well, maybe not the last part; I may be confusing Rise Above with the preview of Michel Gondry’s Be Kind Rewind, which applies a similar mentality to film.) The results heard here juxtapose frantic guitars, walls of harmonies, and disparate vocal approaches; the unceasingly shifting result may turn off hardcore purists. What makes the record more than an interesting experiment is how it does, in its own way, approximate memory: the swirling choruses of backing vocals, Longstreth’s alternately crisp and mumbled delivery, the rushing series of notes emanating from guitars. More often than not, the concept pays off: “Police Story” suggests a Bill Morrison film noir, while “Six Pack” attains a manic, almost unhinged pop energy. (Tobias)

What a year for post-rock 2007 was. And Toronto’s Do Make Say Think made as good a record as the genre has given us in years with You, You’re a History in Rust (post-rock bands are not allowed to have short album titles; it’s the law). For DMST, it’s perhaps their most cohesive and satisfying record yet. A jumble of genres, from Four Tet-ish folktronica to crescendo-building post-rock to melodic indie rock (there are vocals on this one), History in Rust has a beautiful flow to it and never sounds cluttered. And while other post-rock outfits have been guilty at times of meandering and pointless virtuosity, DMST is a remarkably tight band, one obviously inspired by its environs (the band has been known to record in barns and the like) to make music that’s as poignant as it is powerful. They know when to shift gears, when to pull back, and when to turn things up a notch, making History in Rust a true album of peaks and valleys best absorbed as a whole. Hit shuffle at your own peril. (James)

This was the best hip-hop record of 2007, and the best underground rap album I’ve heard in years. The driving, propulsive rhythms are sick – no other way to put it – unrelenting and catchy as hell (when was the last time we had that to say about a rap album?), and El-P’s rapping is simply on another level of sophistication altogether. Perhaps El-P’s greatest skill is as a producer, and his work on I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead is outstanding, opening the record with a funny and ominous quote from Twin Peaks before launching the explosive “Tasmanian Pain Coaster” – six-plus minutes of pure fury. The rest of the album is seamlessly blunt and unyielding, yet another forceful voice decrying injustice in these militaristic times (check out his duet with Cage on “Habeus Corpus” in particular). It’s been five long years since El-P dropped us a new album of originals (2002’s Fantastic Damage was his last), and his new record couldn’t be more welcome, reminding us of what made the genre so vital and alive in the first place. (Ralph)

Cynics may wonder how many albums we need by an instrumental indie-rock band. If the band is Explosions in the Sky, the answer is “all of them and more,” since they just keep getting better and better each time out. All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone, their fourth full-length, captures their chiming guitars with both clarity and ambience; they are more consistently offering shimmering, slow-building pieces that don’t switch gears as abruptly as some of their earlier ones did, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of variety in textures and dynamics (and mood), both from one track to the next and within a single piece. The little tintinnabulating guitar patterns act as melodies/hooks; the droning washes of sound under them keep it all from sounding like a music box. This CD (which comes with a limited edition bonus disc of remixes featuring Jesu, Mountains, Adem, Four Tet, Eluvium and the Paper Chase) is so good that EITS now officially passes Lanterna as my favorite instrumental indie-rock band. (Steve)

This is one of the most beautiful and shattering records of the year. The first full-length collaboration between electronic frontiersman Christian Fennesz and prolific composer Ryuichi Sakamoto, Cendre is a deeply textured, melodic and hushed record. Throughout, Fennesz’s prickly static and synthesized drones provide an intricate counterpoint to Sakamoto’s suspended, Eno-esque piano overtures. The beauty of this album lies in the details, and the result is an ever-evolving soundscape of staggering emotional range. The tracks delve into dark territory at times with subdued, brooding abrasion and eerie chord changes, but unfailingly resurface again into bright, static-drenched bliss. As far as ambient music goes, Fennesz and Sakamoto have produced an album that is both haunting and heartbreaking. (Dan)

Yes, techno has its detractors, and not without some justification, but the Field is something different altogether. Axel Willner’s project has produced a softer edged yet universally catchy microhouse record with From Here We Go Sublime, courtesy of renowned Cologne-based label Kompakt. Full of the expected pounding dancefloor beats and blips, the record achieves something more with Sublime, weaving in various pitched catchy melodies, creating a soundscape digestible by more than your run of the mill candy raver. At times reaching borderline Kid A on speed status, the album’s standouts, including “Silent” and “Everyday,” create a minimalist architecture with understandable glitzy and containable beats. But others are a bit more dancefloor charged. “The Little Heart Beats So Fast” dishes more memorable high-hat samples but brings a layered artistic effect that is preserved throughout, illustrating a new dimension to an album that may seem close to its peers when viewed through a wide lens yet when dissected contains minute details contemporaries lack. (Billy)

It’s always exciting to watch a band come into its own. We liked Field Music, but we never knew they had Tones of Town in them. From the first few sounds of the opener, “Give It Lose It Take It,” with the humming of a crowd giving way to interlocking marimbas and pianos leading to a fiery guitar riff that could almost pass for classic prog, you know you’re in for something special here. Tones of Town is a pop album all right – catchy melodies in nearly every song – but it’s much more than that; from its witty and plaintive lyrics of alienation and despair to the extraordinary breadth of styles and musicianship, it’s one of those rare albums where ambition matches talent and execution. There are more ideas packed into one song than many entire albums these days – miraculous, given the fact that the songs usually hover around the three-minute mark – with a healthy but uncluttered dose of Beatles-esque experimentalism, intricate harmonies, and stylistic eclecticism. The songwriting team of brothers Peter and David Brewis create memorable characters stuck in dreary situations, spinning suburban ennui into gold. My absolute favorite album of the year. (James)

Party album of the year. !K7’s DJ Kicks’s series has produced some great records over the years (Four Tet, Erlend Oye, Tiga), but it took Britain’s Hot Chip to turn the concept into a true work of art. Think of it as the best mixed tape you could ever find or the work of the world’s best DJ stepping into your home to deliver pure joy in your life for over an hour. They take classic soul, hip-hop, Ray Charles, a Hot Chip original, Joe Jackson, New Order, new wave, new everything and turn it into a seamless flow of wondrous music, with never a dull moment.

I&W started out as just singer-songwriter Sam Beam, but he’s fully moved into the band format now. He has done so without sacrificing the distinctiveness of his sound or the ethereal intimacy of his singing, and his songwriting remains compelling, even without obvious hooks. All the musicians on his 2005 EP Woman King return, as do Lambchop’s Paul Niehaus and Calexico’s Joey Burns from the In the Reins EP. For a guy who started out completely solo, Beam’s certainly showing a talent for colorful and varied arrangements, from the not-so-surprising pedal-steel-guitar-flavored country (that could be Burns’s influence) on several songs to the Afro-pop groove (!) on “House by the Sea” (complete with sax) and the mix of rock, reggae, and funk on “Wolves (Song of the Shepherd’s Dog).” It may not be what we expect from Iron and Wine, but given how good the results are, it’s a welcome development. (Steve)

A true hit record, with more joyous, upbeat songs than any record we can think of this year. With their long-awaited debut album †, the French duo Justice have successfully mixed a varied range of synthetic sounds and influences: “Phantom” samples the band Goblin’s vocoded vocal line from the song “Tenebrae”, while the disco-pop anthem “D.A.N.C.E.” will be this summer’s hit song, with a catchy chorus sung by a school children choir, disco strings and infectious feel-good vibe. Mixing some early Daft Punk-ish squelchy sound textures alongside John Carpenter-inspired slabs of 80s keyboards, † is an eclectic mix of dance and horror film soundtracks. Alternately harsh and accessible, the album sometimes veers towards darker drum ‘n’ bass territories on the tracks “Stress” and “Waters of Nazareth.” With its irreverent and playful take on electronic music, † is never less than entertaining and energizing. Justice have put the fun back in dance music and produced a groundbreaking first album: a must have! (Morgane)

Oh, Jens. Sweden’s best export (sorry, IKEA) returns with another brilliant effort – no surprises there, as it’s been obvious since his 2005 debut that Secretly Canadian’s boy wonder has rare talent. But how could we have expected him to produce a new album this good? Night Falls Over Kortedala has Lekman’s signature heart-on-his-sleeve story lyrics, his gorgeously imperfect vocals, and, most of all, his warm, exquisite production that merges a wide variety of samples with live instruments, hand-claps and drum-machines, harps and ukeleles. But never have Lekman’s arrangements been so vast and thoughtful, taking his songs thisclose to “over the top” without actually getting there. This deftness, applied here to his most accomplished batch of songs yet (many already familiar from his live shows), make Night Falls Over Kortedala far and away Lekman’s best. (Anna)

You know someone’s special when he invents a genre all on his own – or, in the case of LCD Soundsystem frontman James Murphy, inventing a genre-less genre. By defying categorization, LCD has created one all its own: a seamless hybrid of dance, punk, new wave and rock that should find admirers on all sides of the pop-music spectrum. In short, no one on the planet can create music like this, so unique is its style and execution. LCD blew our minds two years ago with their debut; the highly anticipated follow-up scores all fronts, once again delivering a high-octane crowd pleaser, particularly the rousing opener, “Get Innocuous!,” a seven-minute raveup that should send dancefloors dizzying with delight. Other outstanding tracks include “Someone Great,” “All My Friends,” “Watch the Tapes” (all perfect examples of Murphy’s penchant for blending genres) and the hilarious minor-key ballad “New York, I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down.” Murphy’s music never shouts out: Here is my rock song, here is my dance song … the music works beautifully as a whole, tying together the disparate sounds in a terrific record that’s an instant classic. (Ralph)

Liars have their hardcore fans, no doubt, the ones who enthusiastically gobble up every release. But to many others, the band is an acquired taste. The band hit pay dirt on this self-titled release, and that taste was suddenly acquired in delectable droves. Maybe it’s just that after you’ve done the noise/repetition thing for a while, the urge to stretch out stylistically is irresistible (see also: Oneida). Liars continue to elevate their music to new levels on their latest, in effect consolidating their earlier dance-punk angularity with their recent art-skronk while stripping away all superfluity. It’s a very New York album, right down to the Sonic Youth-ish guitar sound that occasionally oozes from the cracks but also shows a lot of variety. The tracks are more focused and concentrated too – downright catchy on “Freak Out.” (Steve)

Did anyone know who Menomena was one year ago? Oh, a few did for sure (I Am the Fun Blame Monster is really worth getting), but many do now. And for good reason: Friend and Foe, the band’s third full-length, was a major step up, a bold and baroque pop record. Harmoniously layered vocal lines swerve and swell through a long list of musical appearances, including a heavy dose of piano, the workman’s whistle, skronk saxophone, xylophone and a thunderous base-layer of crashing drums. And the artwork! No CD packaging was so elaborate this year – not even on Bjork’s record – with eight possible different covers, four when the CD is in the case, four when it’s not, and lots of nicities in between, depending on you put the CD. Yet another reason to own the record, not that you really needed it.

Artistically, this is a big step forward from Arular, much of which borrowed heavily from baile funk. That hard-edged Brazilian style is still heard here, but less often, and rubbing up against musics from around the world (hip-hop, Bollywood, rai, bangra, quotes from rock songs – the album opens with an explicit reference to the Modern Lovers’ “Roadrunner” and steals a riff from “Blue Monday”) in a more imaginative production style. Many comparisons, some as much metaphorical as sonic, come to mind; the easiest to make, because of gender, range from Bow Wow Wow to Cibo Matto, from any number of female rappers to Bjork. But the closest match might be Tricky, especially when M.I.A. switches her tone from aggressively sing-song to deadpan, but also for their dark sarcasm, gun sounds, and love of stark sonic juxtapositions. In a way, Kala is her Maxinquaye.

After the spectacular success of Alligator, can the National follow up? You bet. All the thrumming tunefulness and enigmatic lyricism returns (the lyrics filled with even more foreboding and dread now), with some new twists. Padma Newsome (Clogs) helps out, giving a new sound to some tracks: The horns on “Fake Empire,” “Brainy,” and “Ada” and the strings on “Squalor Victoria” bring to mind Sufjan Stevens’s recent prog-rockness, with the minimalism of “Ada” another Sufjan echo. Quieter tracks include “Start a War,” gorgeous yet insistent. Some guitars on “Mistaken” stick out as very Sonic Youth-esque; there are similar sounds in other songs, but more buried in the mix. “Apartment Story” suggests a fuzzy cross between the Velvet Underground and New Order with its distortion, throbbing bass, rigidly driving beat, and prominent organ part. The forcebeat drumming is perhaps slightly more aggressive and prominent; Matt Berninger’s low-key vocals remain absolutely riveting. (Steve)

You thought punk was dead? No way. Bringing back the raw-edged sensibilities of underground punk with a dollop of fuzzy shoegaze guitars, No Age mixes up genres with off-pitch screaming, nonsensical lyrics, seriously atonal noise, and a DIY attitude that rings loud and clear on Weirdo Rippers, their debut album. At its finest, the band’s vocals pay tribute to the tried and true listless sneer of every punk. Yet peeking through the duo’s rough-hewn cuts are strong melodies and gorgeous hooks, a testament both to Dean Spunt and Randy Randall’s fine talent and skilled arrangement, and their admiration for My Bloody Valentine’s lush noise pop. Nowhere do the worlds of hardcore punk and ethereal experimentalism coexist more blissfully than on the album’s opening track. The reverb of guitars washing along with the southern California shore on “Every Artist Needs A Tragedy” not only opens up Weirdo Rippers but heralds this L.A. duo toward future greatness. Look out! (Carrie)

A lovely, beguiling and thoroughly enjoyable album. The Octopus Project have been tearing up the festival circuit lately, most recently here at CMJ, and you can see why. Hello Avalanche is their third full-length, and what an avalanche this music is, an absolute stunning array of sounds and instruments, from ragged guitars to soothing electronics to brass, keys, and strings, leading to some truly fresh and original music. The real star of the show is the double-tracked Theremin, used here in ways I’ve never heard before, coming off as angelic, quivering voices. Miraculously, all these instruments never lead to a cluttered sound, thanks to the expert musicianship of Josh Lambert, Yvonne Lambert and Toto Miranda, who keep the proceedings tight and melodic. Many high points I could cite here, but my favorite is “I Saw the Bright Shinies,” a sweeping epic. The album is all instrumental save for the last track; it’s a little bit of Four Tet and Amiina with the crescendoing structure of Explosions in the Sky. (James)

The members of O’Death say their whiskey-inspired music sounds like steam trains, wet soil, men with beards, and dried blood. I agree. Drawing from traditional Appalachian Mountain music, this Brooklyn sextet take straight-forward folk lyrics and dunk them into buckets of hostel punk energy. A banjo has never been so mean. Their Gothic lyrics, such as, “Open your black eyes and see. Take off your clothes and come home with me,” rely on the lead singer’s screechy, villainous voice to achieve their haunting tone. The CD peaks with “Down to Rest,” a song that’s hard to stay still while listening to, while “Gas Can Row” and “The Crab Apple Switch” are full of brooding but move slowly. It seems, if music were food, O’Death would be steak – their rich, satisfying sound is worth gnawing on and settles heavy inside you. (Margi)

Mad genius Kevin Barnes and his revolving cast of Of Montreal bandmates shed their twee trappings and “went disco” with 2004’s Satanic Panic in the Attic – and thankfully they never looked back. Two albums later, Barnes and Co. have created their masterpiece: while Satanic Panic and its follow-up, The Sunlandic Twins, both had more brilliant moments than missteps, both records seem one-dimensional compared with Of Montreal’s latest effort. In the band’s bio, Barnes acknowledges that Hissing Fauna is about his post-Sunlandic depression and identity crisis, during which he left his wife and newborn baby for several months. The tension between Hissing Fauna’s upbeat drive and often dark lyrics, between the party-anthem choruses and the alarming verses, make the record more than a collection of cleverly written songs (which, from a master like Barnes, would certainly be enough); Of Montreal’s greatest achievement yet is a gorgeous, engrossing exploration of human frailty, betrayal, and fear. And you can dance to it. (Anna)

The Stage Names is Okkervil River’s best album, a more buoyant and exuberant affair than the band’s previous records, as fine as they all were, revealing new depths to frontman Will Sheff’s songwriting. The stronger pop hooks are not always matched by the solemnity of the lyrics, as dark and confessional as ever, but the sheer energy of the music never brings things down. In the past Sheff has made a concept album about doomed folksinger Tim Hardin (2005’s Black Sheep Boy) and made plenty of forays into self-examination, but here he tackles his own insecurities and ambivalent feelings about life and the music world with wit and honesty without ever getting maudlin or self-pitying. Most important, the band sounds great, tighter than ever, bringing punchy horn lines and rousing choruses to create an album that’s as much ear candy as it is profound. The Stage Names captures one of our finest and most underrated indie bands at their peak. Highly recommended. (James)

“Wonderful, joyous, endlessly inventive and unfailingly melodic – Panda Bear’s Person Pitch is a cinch to go down as one of the best records of 2007.” That’s what we wrote back in March, and whaddya know, we were right! A member of the beloved Animal Collective, Panda Bear (Noah Lennox) here explores his love of Brian Wilson-flavored pop more than ever, but with plenty of experimentalism in sounds and rhythms that were the trademarks of AC classics Sung Tongs and Feels. The album collects many of Panda Bear’s recent singles as well as some brand-new tracks; the centerpiece is the sublime “Bros,” 12 minutes of jingles and harmonies that never lags despite its epic length. Elsewhere Person Pitch is full of jagged-yet-cohesive samples, pulsating rhythms, ethnic flare, and layers of comfy tones, from owls to ice-cream-truck jingles to chants. As much of a treat as any Animal Collective material yet clearly a departing unique and singular take on their twisted-pop sound world. Absolutely essential in every way. (Adam)

What an absolute joy this record is! The second album from Jason Robert Quever’s band is unfailingly melodic from beginning to end. On several tracks Andy Cabic of Vetiver doubles Quever’s warm youthful voice, which sits comfortably an octave higher than his contemporaries, and Shayde Sartin of Skygreen Leopards also contributes. Music reviewers have made reference to Galaxie 500, and you can’t argue with them after listening to tracks like “Summer Long,” but this melodic folk-pop album can even recall an early Pink Floyd vibe. There is a generous amount of beautifully played piano on the album that can tonk the honk as well as the Mamas and the Papas on “Take the 227th Exit.” Overall Can’t Go Back is a bit of a creeper, but in the best way possible. Start with track one and ride that steady open country road back to the late 1960s. (Rebecca)

Writer’s Block is quite simply a perfect pop record. It doesn’t dazzle, it’s not groundbreaking, it’s just so good it hurts. The third album from Swedish sweethearts Peter Bjorn and John is everything a pop album should be and too few are these days: fun, smart, poignant, and loaded with hooks and style – a true sonic adventure. The record covers a lot of terrain, jumping from textbook shoegaze, synth-drenched new wave, casio beats, and classic songcraft recalling everything from the Zombies and Jonathan Richman to the Cardigans and Belle & Sebastian. Bjorn Ytting’s production is superb, maintaining a brilliant flow and consistency despite the record’s diversity in sounds. And with “Young Folks” and “Objects of My Affection,” you have some of the best songs you’ll hear all year. Have we gushed enough? (Steven R.)

The sixth album from Pole is a stunning electronic journey, light as a feather, transportative and powerful all at once. Simple and undeniable beats are at the core of this album – sparse, bold and tactful, filled with addictive grooves and pulses without being overbearing or intrusive. The rainbow flavors of Steingarten are provided by gentle and subtle melodies, constantly arriving and departing, fragments of a colorful picture that constantly shift focus in a three-dimensional way. The real icing on the cake is the palate of embellishments served up by the Berlin-based Stefan Betke, an array of swelling icy tones, poking frequencies and curious noises endlessly smirking from the speakers, whether it’s the soft guitar riff of “Warum,” the Talking Heads-like new wave beats behind or “Achterbahn” or the claps and crying synthesizer in the haunting closer, “Pferd”. This is one of those records that works in the club, in your home, in your car – a warm, fun, glorious electronic record. (Adam)

Forget the baby-talk title on Spoon’s latest. Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is a decidedly adult album that shows the band has grown up without growing pains. After more than a decade together, it would’ve been easy to fall into a rut or delve into some seriously misguided experimentation to keep things “fresh.” Instead, we get the best of both worlds, with songs that evoke some of their greatest hits from before while throwing in a bit of the unexpected. Mega-producer Jon Brion even shows up on “The Underdog,” a swinging, horn-tinged track that ends up being one of the album’s best tunes. And while the opener, “Don’t Make Me a Target” couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Spoon, other tracks like “The Ghost of You Lingers,” featuring some downright eerie layered vocal effects, showing that Britt Daniel and company have mastered putting a new twist on a proven formula. (Kaitlin)

One of the most gorgeous records of the year, this two-CD set has a slight split personality between the two discs. On disc one, the influence of Brian Eno’s ambient music is especially strong; for instance, “Don’t Bother They’re Here” and “Dopamine Clouds over Craven Cottage” sound like outtakes from Music for Airports in their construction. Disc two, though certainly similar in mood, is more original, practically a sonic essay on the acoustic properties of attack and decay as sounds appear, swell, and diminish, with less minimalist repetition in favor of a slow parade of serenely caressed timbres. The duo of Brian McBride and Adam Wiltzie is augmented by a whopping eight additional instrumentalists (four string players, four horns) plus a children’s choir, along with four “contributors” presumably helping with the electronic manipulations. The result is mellow voluptuousness if you use these instrumentals as background music, but utterly engrossing if you pay attention. (Steve)

A lovely and majestic record, as wondrous as its gloriously vulnerable album cover. St. Vincent is the solo project of singer and multi-instrumentalist Annie Clark, who has lent her guitar playing talents to The Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens. On Marry Me, Clark moves to centerstage and establishes herself as an enormously talented and original songwriter with personality to spare. The weirdly catchy single “Now Now,” with its swirls of guitar harmonics and childlike choral vocals, is representative of Clark’s ability to craft complex sonic landscapes centered around her spellbinding vocals and memorable wordplay (“Jesus Saves, I Spend”). Many of the songs present a lightly twisted cinematic vision of smoky Parisian jazz clubs, with a decidedly modern heroine crooning over classic yet experimental instrumental arrangements. Clark will draw you in with familiar sounds, but before you know it, you’ll be lost in a world that’s all her own. (Kiri)

Here’s an album we never got sick of. In fact, it just got better and better to our ears. Vandervelde was somewhat of a blog superstar in ‘06, and while some of his Brooklyn Vegan and Stereogum peers haven’t quite ripened yet, the 22-year old Chicagoan proved all doubters wrong with this debut for indie powerhouse Secretly Canadian, The Moonstation House Band. Vandervelde’s music excels at fuzzed-drehched power pop, recalling Apples in Stereo and Supergrass, not to mention early Bowie and Marc Bolan. This enormously gifted songwriter is also a versatile instrumentalist, playing nearly all the instruments on the record (save a few bass parts), with sweet string arrangements from the genius of David Campbell, who has worked with Elton John, Leonard Cohen and Beck. (Grant)

It took us a whole to come around to this one, but boy, are we glad we did. White Rabbits hail from our backyard, and their debut, Fort Nightly, is smashing, one of the most electrifying records of the summer. With maraca-shaking eroticism, a Weill-ian theatricality and slick, reverb-heavy guitar riffs, Fort Nightly is just about the most exciting rock record around at the moment. The calypso beats and vintage piano coupled with incredible vocals make for one infectious record. It’s loaded with impressive arrangements and a rhythmic intensity yielding one of the best summer records of your sweaty 2007. And now that the summer is over and we can look back a bit, it’s still on heavy rotation at the store and customers are still digging it. White Rabbits have staying power. (Steven)

The major labels get a lot of abuse these days – much of it justified – but every now and then they get one right. To wit: Amy Winehouse. This burgeoning British soul diva has given us a nearly flawless bit of retro R&B, an album overflowing with spirit, exuberance and style. Only 23 but with a mature set of pipes, Winehouse here channels the sound of the great Atlantic soul records of the 1960s in an album of great variety, with moments of jazz and pop mixed with R&B. And there are some great tunes here that should be household names in no time: “Rehab” will go down as one of the year’s best singles, a sizzling, defiant anthem with pounding horns, bells and rhythms; “Me and Mr. Jones” has a delightful old-school R&B sound channeling the likes of Etta James, even though the lyrics are decidedly modern (“What kind of fuckkery is this? / Nowadays you don’t mean dick to me”). Irresistible. (James)

It was a good year for comebacks, and the return of Robert Wyatt was one of the year’s best. Wyatt may not be a household name (a pity), but he is actually one of the key figures in psychedelic and progressive rock history, popping up in the late 60s as drummer/vocalist for the legendary Canterbury group Soft Machine, who were known for abstract melodies, peculiar jazz-tinged arrangements and Robert’s untrained yet magically infectious voice. So we find him here 40 years later, grizzled but still inspired, having created a stunning experimental pop album, full of ethnic flourishes, sonic wonder and delightful musicality, not to mention guest appearances by Brian Eno, Phil Manzanera and Paul Weller. Moods range throughout from dense melancholy to bright cheer, but an overall consistency remains, a thoughful conceptual album that has much to offer a casual listener as it does those who are excited to dig deep into its song-writing and slyly complex organization. Truly one of the finest records of the year. (Adam)

It’s only fitting that Yeasayer should be at the bottom of this list, given that the year has ended with this delightful album sweeping our hearts. All Hour Cymbals has one of the freshest sounds we’ve heard all year, a delightful mix of indie hooks and bold rhythms, recalling some of the experimental work of Peter Gabriel and Talking Heads a generation ago. The album’s shining moment, “2080,” captures everything special about Yeasayer, with lush choruses, fiery chants and inventive polyrhythms. The sweet sounds are sometimes belied by the dark, nihilistic undertones of the lyrics, but that just makes the album more interesting. And with the heavy, crunching guitars in “Wait for the Wintertime,” the band can rock aplenty too.(Jay)