|
|
of saints, weapons, theories, and problems: the best albums of 2006 (20-1)Jan 08 '07 (Updated May 10 '07) Write an essay on this topic.
Popular Products in Music
The Bottom Line Go back and read part one if you haven't. I'll wait.
You know how you know it's been an excellent year for music? It's not how many stone cold classics were produced during the year, or how many popular singalongs were bred. What it really comes down to is this: when you have as much trouble trying to order your top 10 as I did with this list, that's when you truly sit back and realize that a.) the art of the album is not dead after all and b.) music isn't simply going to the dogs, not when quality of this magnitude exists. Of course, a good year for music usually equals a good year for music writing. As a longtime contributor to this site (since 2000), I'm not gonna lie and act like this is the best year I've seen on epinions. My own writing slowed to a snail's pace, to the point where my once-regular contributing was reduced to mere site cameos; meanwhile, the output of many of my friends and contemporaries slowed similarly. As years roll on, certain contributors seem to fall off the face of the 'net, and you kind of wonder if you'll ever see them again. The good part about all this is that there's always someone. No matter what, someone always remains passionate about this stuff, about this "writing-about-music" thing that we're all here for. Before I delve back into the second half of my top 40 albums of the year, I'd like to give brief mention to a few people who are, quite simply, holdin' it down in the Music category. -- speeddemon531: Mike is a lot of things to me. He's my co-host in what is quickly becoming a tradition, the year-end write-off. We exchange mixes and other musical items from time to time. We talk. Basically, we're friends. However, this year, I noticed it more than ever before: this man is a writer. It's not that he wasn't before; Mike's always been good. But this year his output seemed to increase, and that's what gets me. See, reviews for me are always few and far between; I always take a LOT of time to make sure they're good. So I write it, and it's good; but Mike writes exponentially more than I do, and it's ALWAYS good. How the hell do you DO that? -- balogun: Of course, there's always gonna be a few new cats. Might not seem like it, but new people join the site every year. This year, Balogun graced us with his presence, and damn. Mike already called it, true, but let's just call it what it is: according to the D&D Write-Off, Balogun is the official Epinions Music Category MVP of 2006. It started with his astonishingly well-thought-out and -written Top 10 Rappers series, and thankfully it didn't stop there. Here's hoping he's a contributor for years to come. -- DrFaustus: Then again, you don't always have to count on the new cats. In Epinionsland, DrFaustus is actually older than I am: he's been a member for about two months longer than I have. This fan of the "esoteric and obscure" is always puttin' it down, sneaking in reviews of under-the-radar albums; and usually, everything he recommends is a pretty sound bet. So why haven't I shouted out Ben before? Well, I think, much like the things he tends to review, Ben simply slipped under my radar. But with his "12 Months of Music" series, for the first time on Epinions, I was rushing to my computer every first of the month, eagerly awaiting the next installment. The Doctor is officially In. -- Blindsider: Something's simply gotta be said for those people who write informed, well-written reviews on a regular basis that pimp out music I am probably not gonna listen to. Sheila and I's music tastes might be oil and water, but thanks to the skill and personality that inform her reviews, I nevertheless find myself reading everything she writes. Regularly. By this, I'm impressed. Everybody else, you know who you are. Spread the love, peeps. Meanwhile, I am going to continue to spread love to the top 20 albums of 2006. And I'd be honored if you'd join me. 20. Under the Covers, Vol. 1, Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs. Sorry to disappoint, but I have next to nothing to say about this album. This is just two pleasant artists creating pleasant art, with no hint of experimentation or overt artistic agenda. Which makes it one of the most plain-spoken, simple albums of the year. And that refreshing lack of pretense makes Under the Covers an immensely enjoyable listen with pretty much endless replay value, so there you have it. 19. Pearl Jam, Pearl Jam. It speaks volumes about an artist's influence on the creative process of others, I think, to relay to you this mini-anecdote: I started writing a paragraph describing why Pearl Jam's newest album is worthy of being my #20 album of the year. That quickly went off the rails, because I became inspired, and now that paragraph is saved in a Word document that will eventually become my full review of Pearl Jam. I haven't been on the ball in a while, guys; the writing has become sporadic, and let's face it, when it pops up, it's not as good as it once was. But get me writing about Pearl Jam, and it's a whole new ball game - I'm inspired, and I feel like I'm writing a review that will rank among my best, if anyone were ever sad and lonely enough to attempt such a list. What matters is not how Pearl Jam came from out of nowhere to release a barn-storming howler of a rock n' roll album; it's unfair, I think, to pigeonhole Pearl Jam as swinging-dick rockers when any fan will tell you that they shine in their quieter moments. Rather, it's important to point out that Pearl Jam are officially rocking out with substance - Pearl Jam have created an album for the here and now that isn't to be devoured by the rock-crit elite, but by the common men who are glad that they have someone in the musical world expressing the righteous anger of millions so eloquently. In that respect, in a year in which Springsteen-chic became the go-to formula for success, Pearl Jam are the ones who are truly carrying on the mantle of the Boss. 18. Songs For Christmas and The Avalanche, Sufjan Stevens. As far as Sufjan Stevens goes, I'm sure Illinoise, and it's salivating critical humpathon of a reception, is still fresh on the minds of everyone here. What perhaps only a handful of us will remember is that Illinoise deserved its reputation; whether you remember it as a great album that happened to happen in 2005 or a product of 2005 that people seemed to latch onto is, I suppose, at your discretion. Either way, Avalanche is a collection of out-takes for a reason, that reason simply being that it's a bunch of really good songs and not an _album_ that ebbs and flows with the supernatural, this-is-how-it's-supposed-to-be ease that the best albums do. But at that, it's still a great collection of songs - briefly, opening one-two "The Avalanche" and "Dear Mr. Supercomputer" sound as they almost could have bookended their big-bro album - as evident of Sufjan's busy, tuneful songwriting muse at work as anything on Illinoise. Songs For Christmas is different, of course - it all sounds very original, of course, but the fact remains that the record-critic community will tell you that Christmas is uncool, and _songs_ about Christmas are even less cool, what with all the fa-la-las and silent nights and heaven and nature singalongs and what-have-you. Somehow, I'm okay with Sufjan's five-disc monster box Songs For Christmas not being cool: it's fresh-sounding, innocent, wide-eyed, and reverent, and for one reason or another, it's the most easy emotion Sufjan has coaxed out of anything that's not "John Wayne Gacy, Jnr." or "Casimir Pulaski Day". That might have to do with Sufjan's utter sincerity, or the dear love he has for his faith. Either way, it sounds fantastic. 17. Barenaked Ladies Are Me, Barenaked Ladies. There are plenty of reasons to recommend Are Me to a non-fan of the BNL; their obvious talent transcends gimmickry, but the fact remains that the popular face of the Barenakeds is "One Week," which fills in the space between silly, nonsensical choruses with silly, half-rapped strings of non-sequiturs. They are also named the Barenaked Ladies, and their very name sets themselves up for punchlines like "ohh, I LOVE Barenaked Ladies! The band ain't half bad either, HEY OHHHHHHH" The reason Are Me is an excellent album has nothing to do with the novel idea of a silly group going serious: 1.) BNL were never just a silly group and 2.) they already made an excellent serious record when Maroon came out and they were still commercially viable. Nah, what makes Are Me special is the fact that, fresh out the packaging, it feels lived-in, it feels old. Not old as in outdated, but old as in an album that's been a special, pleasant part of your record collection for a long time. Don't let the silly song about robbing a bank full of nuns derail you: Barenaked Ladies Are Me is the same sort of wistful, smart pop record the Ladies have been making all this time. It's just another Barenaked Ladies record, really; but if you've ever listened to a BNL record, you'll probably recognize that sentence as complimentary. 16. Lupe Fiasco's Food and Liquor, Lupe Fiasco. I don't have a whole lot to say about Lupe Fiasco's debut album that other critics haven't said, and with far more eloquence. What I will say is this: in a year in which we didn't get a new Kanye album, and in which Jigga released an album that was good but, predictably, not a stone-cold classic, Lupe Fiasco has released an album that combines Ye's effortless musicality with Jay's inimitable flow. What makes Lupe different from either is how breezily his rapping trumps most others on their A game, be it because of his easygoing, natural flow, or because of his lyrical dexterity or fondness for unconventional subject matter. Either way, Lupe Fiasco joins an elite group of artists that truly feel as though they're tugging on the boundaries of hip-hop; like the dam is about to burst and intelligent, thematically varied forms of hip-hop are going to flood the town. Whether or not it happens, it's nice to think about. 15. Ganging Up on the Sun, Guster. I like Guster. I really do. What they do seems supernatural to me sometimes, as though they sold their souls so that the devil would give them inspiration for their bouncy, 60s-inflected songcraft; except, Guster are far too pleasing and genial to have an evil muse, so that theory's out. Still, Guster sound like a singles band to me, as though the general public would best be fitted by a Guster hits album; the caveat, of course, being that Guster doesn't really have any hits, and so we have to shell out for five albums and a live disc. Ganging Up on the Sun doesn't have a "Careful" on it, which is to say that it's the first Guster album since Parachutes to sound like a real album, and not a carefully-positioned disc of potential singles. It all sounds rather Fountains of Wayne-ish, and that's not a bad thing; remember how much we all salivated over Welcome Interstate Managers? Ganging Up on the Sun peppers Guster's usual sonic pallette with dark textures, swaths of psychedelic colors, and beefed-up lyrical content. Although nothing here even approaches the perfect pop of "Demons" or "Careful", Ganging Up is, for this band, uniquely album-esque; and on subsequent listens, proves to be the best cover-to-cover listen of this band's singularly interesting career. (full review) 14. We Shall Overcome, Bruce Springsteen. You could explain away the inclusion of a collection of Bruce-ified folk covers as less of an appreciation of art, and more of a slavish, fanboyish dedication to an artist that's on record as being one of my favorites. But consider that Bruce Springsteen is one of my favorites only marginally due to his voice; not that i don't appreciate Bruce as a performer, but you can't argue that any die-hard Boss fans appreciate him for anything less than his lyrics; he's a much-vaunted songwriter with a singular way with words, and a very unique voice in popular songwriting. Bruce doesn't actually write anything on We Shall Overcome, but here's the thing: pre-Springsteen Pete Seeger _did_ write all these songs, and Bruce is apparently really good at picking session musicians. This is one of the Backyard BBQ discs of 2006, a party of unique and contagious energy that oozes from every pore of We Shall Overcome. Listen to "O Mary, Don't You Weep", and try coming back here and telling me it's not contagious. 13. Begin To Hope, Regina Spektor. You know, I can actually appreciate some of the anti-Regina sentiment that, on the occasion, floats my way: her voice is a very unique conglomeration of vocal tics and eccentricities that's not easy to get into. Her songs are occasionally a little too cutesy, a little too precious; people dislike Regina for the same reasons that I appreciate, but can't truly get into, Nellie McKay. The difference for me being that I can actually get into Regina; that, even with the qualities that people would say mar her unique musical pallette, I find myself with Regina Spektor songs trailing the perimeters of my mind the same way that other, more established chick-with-piano artists have managed. Tori, Fiona, and now Regina; they all make me feel the same way, except Tori cuts to the core a little more often, and Fiona routinely squeezes my testes just by virtue of my sex being the enemy. Regina's songcraft hasn't really changed from her days as lo-fi acoustic performer, but the production is beefed up majorly, and so Regina becomes the first piano woman who makes me bob my head like I'm listening to Outkast or Nas or someone. It's nice to have a niche. 12. Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers, and Bastards, Tom Waits. The equation for this one is extremely simple. Tom Waits is one of the most magnetic performers ever, and his records always sound awesome. His blues sound bluer than anyone else's; his ballads, delivered in that fractured, ghoulish carnival barker's voice, sound more withered and wounded than anybody's. Tom Waits can frighten you and break your heart in equal measure, and Orphans is three discs worth of that. What it is, see, is simple mathematics. Disc of Tom Waits = kicks ass. Three discs of Tom Waits = kicks ass three times. 11. Hip-Hop is Dead, Nas. It's odd how good Nas is considering the messianic complex he so severely suffers from; then again, I'm a devout Jay-Z fan, so citing this as problematic would betray a real hypocrisy in my writing, and my whole body of music-reviewing work just might crumble. But Nas makes lofty claims on Hip-Hop is Dead, from the title to the obvious inference that Nas can climb right up on the cross and save it. Hip-hop's not dead, though, and would Nas be the one to resurrect it if it were? This is all moot, of course; Nas's latest album is more an extension of hip-hop's life, and, more importantly, an encapsulating, definitive snapshot of Nas's career at this point. What becomes apparent, even when the album stumbles a bit, is how Nas has perfected the art of the moment: Hip-Hop is Dead may not be a track-for-track classic, but the brilliance is there. It's there when the "In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida" sample in the title track drops out, replaced by the rhythmic chants of what sounds like a stadium of people chanting fervently for its return; it's there in the pleading "Hope", during which Nas spits a cappella; it's there when Jay and Nas finally come together, mid-album, to rap on "Black Republican"; and it's there in the chilling ending of "Who Killed It?", when Nas, personifying the music "Used to Love H.E.R."-style, raps "if you really love me, i'll come back alive." 10. Once Again, John Legend. Some albums seem like there's so much to say about them, but then you realize the reason they're so good is so simple. In the Tom Waits paragraph, it was: Tom Waits is awesome, so more Tom Waits is extra awesome. With John Legend's sophomore set, it's this: John Legend has made a purely enjoyable album of extremely well-written, well-performed, almost-addictive music. It's not always complicated. 9. Continuum, John Mayer. Much like his fellow John, Mr. Mayer has also produced an album that boasts an appeal that's relatively easy to describe: the songs on Continuum are good songs, well-played. What makes Continuum stand out a little more is that it's not from the discography of an artist that I would have previously called respectable. Anyone who's spoken to me will attest: I was not only a non-fan of John Mayer's, but an ardent anti-fan, a Mayer-hater, if you will. And now here Continuum is, sittin' pretty at slot 9 on my year's-end album list. The craziest part is, I've never given an artist props for an album simply because I didn't think they had it in 'em; what's cool is, John Mayer got here on his own merits. 8. FutureSex/LoveSounds, Justin Timberlake. There may be an obvious answer to this, but: where the HELL did Justin Timberlake come from? Think about the question realistically, and tell me exactly how a boy-band expatriate - from a group that was exponentially inferior than its chief competition, the Backstreet Boys - parted ways with his boys, only to become arguably the biggest pop star in the world, and deservedly. It might be Timberlake's creamy falsetto, or how thoroughly Timbaland has revamped JT's sound, turning him into quite possibly the only post-Prince pop star worthy of remote comparison to the Purple One. But every note and beat on this album seems perfectly placed, impeccably orchestrated, the ever-thorough work of a perceptionist. Bonus points, then, for being that calculated and still capable of kick-starting a Roman orgy. Point is, FutureSex/LoveSounds is dangerously close to perfect, and attests to the year that was 2006: I, for one, am simply enthralled knowing that there are seven better albums than this. 7. Boys and Girls in America, the Hold Steady. Yeah, yeah, I know, I talked shit about the Hold Steady. That was because last year's Separation Sunday blew hard, and as a result, the critics salivating over Boys and Girls in America this year was entirely inconsequential to me. It took a respected colleague mentioning, "yeah, I didn't like the last one either, but the guy actually sings on this one" to change my mind; now I'm not entirely sure I could envision my life without this particular Hold Steady album. It's not just that the guy actually sings, although that alone gives it a leg up over the last album; but on Boys and Girls in America, every song sounds like a rock anthem for the ages, like the most perfect highway music you could ever wanna hear, galvanizing and - the best part - exceptionally easy to sing along with. When was the last album like that? Born in the U.S.A., maybe? So you heard it here first: the foot's in the mouth, the Hold Steady are in the stereo. Are you happy now? (full review) 6. Game Theory, the Roots. Somewhere along the line, jazz-beat-poetry morphed into pitch-black grooves a la Funkadelic for rap stalwarts The Roots. I liked the jazz-beat-poetry, actually; anyone that tells me Do You Want More?? doesn't completely kick ass, I will simply label you a liar and move on with my life. But while in their previous incarnation the Roots were already making music better than everyone else, they have morphed into quite possibly the most consistent act in music today. Game Theory might be their best album yet, as dark as Phrenology but more streamlined. It's heady without the headtrip; this is finally the perfect marriage of groove and message, and finally the album where Black Thought and the band all seem to be on the same page. When the band is on-point, so is Thought, delivering his hungriest vocal performances to date. This is angry, passionate music, that enthralls regardless of genre; my props to the Roots for this tour de force. 5. Fishscale, Ghostface Killah. There aren't a lot of rappers that would be willing to emote like a soul singer the way Ghostface bears all on the tough wounded-thug ballad "Back Like That"; there are very few emcees who could lay down a vivid, descriptive narrative as plot-heavy and prosaic as the Tarantino-esque "Shakey Dog". But there are very few rappers like Ghostface Killah, in both style and ability. Fishscale might be the most purely exciting album of the year (and of Ghostface's career, really), and Ghostface the right-now MVP as far as pure emceeing goes. Fishscale is immaculately produed, full of the sort of grime and odd beauty that befits tales like this, and Ghost is more focused than ever, rapping compellingly about everything from the metric system ("Kilo") to children's discipline ("Whip You With a Strap"). And as if that's not enough, the skits are actually funny. "Heart Street Directions", anyone? Come on! 4. Pick A Bigger Weapon, the Coup. "I'm a walkin' contradiction/ like bullets and love mixin'," starts off the Coup's Pick A Bigger Weapon, and on this album it feels like the truth. Lead rapper Boots Riley may have been at his hungriest on the group's Steal This Album, and the fact that the two albums that came after that one don't absolutely cower in its shadow simply speaks to the unparalleled artistry of this particular collective. This missive is like Game Theory, really, just as musically stimulating and with an astonishing level of lyrical dexterity; the difference being that Boots Riley tends to deal with shit with a flamboyant sense of humor that shines through even the bleakest moments of this set. The Prince-ly "ShoYoAss", the album's easy centerpiece, is every bit as groovy as it is intelligent; later on in the album, the entirely sung "BabyLet'sHaveABabyBeforeBushDoSomethinCrazy" is, amazingly, one of the most thoughtful and deeply-felt songs on the entire disc, and again, that simply speaks to the ability of the Coup: that mixture of on-target humour and intelligently expressed heartache is kinda like bullets and love mixin', isn't it? 3. Dog Problems, the Format. I'm not even sure how this ended up here. Formerly one of my girlfriend's favorite pop-rock bands, I ignored the Format like I do a lot of things that she likes. It's out of no disrespect for her: she just likes stuff like Taking Back Sunday and New Found Glory, is all, and therefore I shrug off recommendations from her collection. She actually doesn't really care for Dog Problems, which should be a reason to ignore further recommendations, but I can't do that anymore, just in case I somehow run into something as good as Dog Problems again. The Format simply live easily in the looming shadow of The Beatles, and their second album is something like what would occur if the Fab Four punked things up a bit. More on-target, this is simply the best power-pop album of the year; intelligent, occasionally bitter, always enthralling. By the time the title track comes on, you'll be in love, but stay after that; even better stuff is to come. (full review) 2. On the Jungle Floor, Van Hunt. And speaking of sophomore acts, Van Hunt is a wonder; how his second-rate r&b debut segued into a damn perfect second album is incredible. On the Jungle Floor might be the most musical album of the year - sweaty, grimy funk seeps from half of the tracks, while others are stately and tasteful; Van Hunt's understated croon can leap to a shrieking tenor with little to no warning; the instrumentation is varied and layered, taking his cues from not just r&b, but from deep, post-Parliament funk, from torch songs and piano ballads, from new wave, from rock n' roll guitar rave-ups. The appeal of this one is undeniable; to overuse a cliche, there's something for everyone, and true musical conossieurs will appreciate an album as dynamic and interesting as this one. 1. St. Elsewhere, Gnarls Barkley. Honestly, at this point, I'm kind of exhausted by talking about how amazing Gnarls Barkley is. I suppose I could talk how odd it is that their brand of exhumed, freeze-dried, futuristic soul music has gained any sort of popularity; I could talk about Danger Mouse's brilliant, busy soundscapes; I could talk about how Cee-Lo may be the only artist ever to bat a thousand as both singer and rapper. I could talk about how they managed to write the oddest, most totally batshiit paranoid song ever to burn up the charts with "Crazy". But that might shortchange what I think the most important part of Gnarls Barkley's appeal is: of all the albums on this list, St. Elsewhere is the one that honestly feels as though it's always been part of my life. It hasn't, obviously, but it always will be. It's the most immediate, honest, unique, and memorable album I've heard all year, and that's why Gnarls Barkley's St. Elsewhere is the best album of 2006. (full review) - Most improved in 2006 for not stooping to doing the fake list-topper: Stairway2drew. I accept this award, thanks. Here's more d&d shenanigans: Best Albums of 2006 (40-21) Best Singles of 2006 Best Albums of 2005  |
| Read all comments (15)|Write your own comment |
- Top 500
by kiwifella
![Revelation [Digipak] by Journey Reviews](http://di1.shopping.com/images/pi/73/9c/e0/2046466476-100x100-0-0.jpg?p=p2.d2fee1c5c25e66b135f3&a=2&c=1&l=8071320&t=120604174028&r=1)
![Irony Is a Dead Scene [EP] by The Dillinger Escape Plan Reviews](http://di1.shopping.com/images/pi/6b/71/9f/2005398205-100x100-0-0.jpg?p=p5.c1b80dfd3374fbaefd60&a=2&c=1&l=8071320&t=120604174030&r=2)
