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)