The second installment of our decade wrap-up features albums 40 through 31. These are records spanning a phenomenally wide range of moods, records that make us want to love, want to hate, want to feel human. Some mask it behind wry humor, others are startling in their earnest approach. Enjoy.
Honorable Mentions (Part 1)
Honorable Mentions (Part 2)
#50-41
#30-21
#20-11
#10 / #9 / #8 / #7 / #6
#5 / #4 / #3 / #2 / #1
40. Wolf Parade – Apologies To The Queen Mary (2005)
When two great songwriters try to work together to create an album, often the egos involved clash, resulting in momentary brilliance that is never consistent before nearly destroying the individuals involved (see: Oasis). The best that can happen is Wolf Parade’s prolific duo of Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner. They have managed to release albums with a variety of different projects, each as satisfying as the last. None of them, however, may match the sheer genius that is this debut album produced in large part by Modest Mouse’s Isaac Brock. Boeckner’s angular guitar riffs in addition to Krug’s manic keyboard lines and unhinged vocals result in one of the most unique and captivating releases of the decade. Lyrically, they do a fantastic job of representing the sentiments of their generation. On ‘Modern World’, Krug complains “modern world I’m not pleased to meet you/you just bring me down”, capturing the cynicism and apathy of many twenty-somethings post-9/11. On the whole, while there isn’t one track that stands out, the consistency that the two songwriters were able to accomplish is incredible, especially in an era when the album as an entity is arguably losing importance. – Paul Bulow
39. The Shins – Oh, Inverted World (2001)
It is nearly impossible to talk about this album without bringing up Garden State, but whether or not this album will “change your life”, this first album from The Shins stands as one of the most impressive debuts this decade. Their brand of jangly guitar-pop isn’t the most unique, but bolstered by James Mercer’s soaring wail and almost aggravatingly catchy melodies, the band established themselves as one of the first really big indie bands of the new millennium. Even more than being the favorite band of Natalie Portman’s character, The Shins benefited from the movement to use indie bands in TV and movies that also helped then underground darlings Death Cab For Cutie and Spoon into American homes by having their songs used by Scrubs and The O.C. among others. This association, however, has hurt the band some critically as it often takes the focus off of the music. Opener ‘Caring Is Creepy’ and ‘New Slang’ have become the calling cards, but the album is far deeper. Balancing the sugary pop of ‘Girl Inform Me’ and ‘Know Your Onion’ with the fuzz of ‘One By One All Day’ and the dark reverb of ‘Your Algebra’, The Shins display an edge that you didn’t hear on TV and hints at the more adventurous sound that would define their next two albums. – Paul Bulow
38. Smog – Dongs Of Sevotion (2000)
“It happens on a side street maybe/it happens on a main street maybe.” The two opening lines of Smog’s eighth record offer listeners a streamlined qualification of its entire oeuvre. For this reason, Dongs Of Sevotion is the defining Bill Callahan release, reflecting the mercurial auteur’s sonic whims while coating his utterances with a dense cloud of doubt, of plausible slow-peeling subtext. It’s never clear whether he is being frank or facetious, be it paired with ominous synths (‘Justice Aversion’), ambling Americana (‘Strayed’), or intermittent electric guitar lashes (‘The Hard Road’). Even Dongs Of Sevotion‘s title embodies the Callahan duality — suggesting weighty content on one hand and levity on the other. However, a dry, cutting brand of humor is the Drag City hallmark and Smog obliges once more on ‘Dress Sexy At My Funeral’, a cushy jaunt of post-mortem conceit at first glance, but further examination reveals a heartbreaking ulterior motive. Beneath the jocular sheen (“wink at the minister/blow kisses to my grieving brothers”) lies a loving husband, a man who wants nothing more than to see his better half forgo the mourning of his life to soak in the prospect of hers. As he sings of a memorable tryst (“the time on the beach with fireworks above us”), he’s not reminding her of what she no longer possesses but what the future may hold, and he pulls out all the stops, mustering every last ounce of strength in an attempt to will his wife toward happiness with a luminous falsetto no one knew existed. Such glimpses of tenderness amidst the abstruse are what render Smog’s work so alluring, the idea that even Bill Callahan lays his armor down from time to time. Grains of sincerity arise between the salt, between the hypnotic piano loop and thumping percussion of closer ‘Permanent Smile’. He doesn’t wear it on his sleeve, yet every so often, he does ensure that we can “feel the heart beating in my tongue”. – Vinh Cao
37. Sigur Rós – () (2002)
Icelandic post-rockers Sigur Rós craft their masterpiece in the form of (). Make no mistake: this album is challenging. A title you really can’t pronounce, 8 untitled tracks, and a booklet of 12 blank pages are given to the listener. Not much to work with but as you listen to these 8 tracks unfold, in a language which is primarily made up, you begin to understand that you are listening to perhaps the greatest break-up album ever recorded. The arrangements and minimalist approach weave these tracks together seamlessly, and make it a real adventure for the listener. The real point of this album, from the created language to the blank sheets of paper, is that it’s open to your interpretation. Don’t be scared away by the naysayers who claim Sigur Rós releases the same album over and over again, or that it is music for pretentious indie hipsters. Just give it a chance and you’ll be rewarded with one of the most beautiful albums this decade has to offer. – Joe Mateo
36. Eminem – The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)
A quick analysis of my iTunes showed that it had been months since I last listened to The Marshall Mathers LP, which was at first surprising, but I quickly realized why it had been so long upon spinning it. It had absolutely nothing to do with the quality of the album, but the fact that the album is a seventy-minute trip through loads of murder, rape, homophobia, and other various horrific acts. Despite this, it’s a fantastic album which never becomes cheesy or any sort of self-parody, which is a testament to its greatness. The urgent vocal delivery is so volatile and convincing that it’s not at all hard to believe that he is really about to rape his mother or drive his car off a cliff. It’s really no surprise that this album was the most controversial of the decade, but Eminem’s detractors must not have made it all the way to the last track and heard his warning. Surely, they would have preferred him be an offensive rapper than a fucking rapist in a Jason mask. – Micah Wimmer
35. My Morning Jacket – At Dawn (2001)
Due to relentless caprice, My Morning Jacket has hitched a ride across great distances of the musical map throughout its ten-year journey, dabbling in reverb-drenched Americana, sturdy rock ‘n roll, spacey escapades, and fecal funk-pop. In retrospect, At Dawn may be the release on which the band sounds simultaneously the most and least like itself. The dense fog of 1999′s The Tennessee Fire has dissipated to reveal an absolutely astounding vocalist in Jim James whose lambent timbre is now afforded the latitude to roam freely, to reach every last corner of the open fields his partners in crime (“who never break the law”) inhabit. From solemn dirges (‘Hopefully’) to carefree romps (‘Just Because I Do’), this colossal 74-minute sophomore effort is brushed with the warmth of down-home rural charm every step of the way. Airy, wistful melodies prevail, and listeners feel compelled to sing along at the top of their lungs to simple sentiments such as “don’t let your silly dreams fall in between the crack of the bed and the wall”. The unbridled candor in James’ pristine vocals is utterly disarming, conflating his reality with ours so breathlessly the two become indistinguishable. While sparse entries do comprise the meat of this stunning album, MMJ shakes things up subtly as well, as evidenced by the radiant pop of ‘Lowdown’ or the Southern-tinged psychedelia of ‘Honest Man’. Regardless of the road taken though, it always leads back to the same expansive, dusky setting in which a humble everyman’s motions are both modest and massive. This is unlike anything the Louisville outfit has ever written. This is home. – Vinh Cao
34. Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Fever To Tell (2003)
The debut album from Yeah Yeah Yeahs was another feather in the cap for the city of New York. Singer Karen O added a new sense of feminine indie cool with her charismatic presence and was unmistakable both in her voice and appearance, making her one of the most iconic rock stars around. Raw and full of energy, much of Fever To Tell is a boisterous assault of fuzzed-out punk. ‘Date With The Night’ and ‘Pin’ lead the way in that regard with the more expansive sound of ‘Y Control’ pointing the way forward for a band that in a few years time would be headlining festivals. But what takes this album out of the good and into the great category is ‘Maps’. Unexpected and unashamedly vulnerable, the song’s simple, beautiful sentiment (“Wait, they don’t love you like I love you”) has found its way into the heart of a generation and can now rightfully be labeled classic. Unlike many of their peers, Yeah Yeah Yeahs have continued to make great albums with no signs of lowering quality levels but this is where it started, and this is why we love them. – Matthew James
33. The Microphones – The Glow Pt. 2 (2001)
“We didn’t talk and silently we both felt powerful”. The beauty of this album is beyond accurate description. Realer than I thought music could be, transcending all implied capabilities of composition, nearly becoming human in the process. A human holding the utmost passionate disenchantment towards life, clinging to it only through memories of when the wind blew. He remembers the golden sun when he sees fluorescent light, thunder while hearing cars, love while feeling electric heat. Against all odds, Phil Elverum miraculously recreates everything his life is missing with The Glow Pt. 2. You will love and you will be loved, but the feeling is fleeting. Your heart will break, but at least you will feel it break. You will encounter a wide-eyed, living, breathing entity gazing directly into your eyes causing you to say “Yes…it’s alive. And so am I”. – Rick Southwick
32. The Strokes – Is This It (2001)
The Strokes entered public consciousness riding a towering wave of hype that would surely mean disappointment for listeners as soon as they heard the band’s debut album, right? Wrong. As soon as Nik Fraiture’s bouncing bass line kicks in on the opening title track, the album never looks back. Led by Julian Casablancas’ vital vocal performance, it was no wonder the band blew up to such proportions. Each song could have been a single with the simplistic songwriting and instrumentation leading to these tunes being engraved into many a brain, but it’s ‘Hard To Explain’ that really stands out. The song basically sums up the life of a twenty-something in the big city, and the whole album helped create the new sense of cool surrounding New York City as it pulled itself together and rebuilt its spirit following the 9/11 tragedy. This was also the start of the startling number of garage rock bands that soon emerged from seemingly every corner of the world and onto a stage/radio station near you. There were many imitators and bandwagon-jumpers that followed but there was no one that could touch The Strokes in the early part of the decade. Is This It surely is one the finest debut albums of not only the past 10 years, but rock ‘n’ roll history. – Matthew James
31. Stars – Set Yourself On Fire (2004)
Set Yourself On Fire is not Stars’ debut nor sophomore album, but it defined their sound and put them — as well as baroque pop — on the map of Canadian indie music. With sweeping string arrangements, push/pull vocals between singers Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan, artistic and inventive arrangements, and references to everything from the Champlain bridge to growing up in the suburbs of Toronto, to Bush’s unjust war to well, love songs, the band’s third outing has it all. From the first listen to the hundredth, Set Yourself On Fire will make you sit up, pay attention, and just absorb. Vive la revolution douce. – Krista Jamieson