Top 5

5. Yo La Tengo-I am not afraid of you and I will beat your ass

OK, so at this point just about everyone has had something to say about this album, and everyone has said something different. In fact, everything on this top 5 is somewhere else on someone’s list, but that’s beside the point. My experience with Yo La Tengo, at least is long but intermittent, following my entire experience with indie rock music in general. Back when I first got into bands like Pavement and early REM, during freshman year of high school, I totally got into Yo La’s I can hear the heart beating as one; a few months later, typical for high-school me, I pretty much started ignoring the album as well as the band and the genre of college rock in general, moving on to third-wave emo or something. A year and a half later, while I was digging Elliott Smith and Nick Drake, I absolutely adored And then nothing turned itself inside out, only to discard it in favor of neo-psych like the flaming lips and sparklehorse. When I go back through the band’s catalogue, then, I feel really nostalgic and sentimental; the sound reminds me, at the same time, of multiple and influential parts of my life that the band led me through. The new album, I am not afraid of you and I will beat your ass, is the perfect album for this different-at-once sound, sampling all the best moments of the band’s career, including the old albums that I haven’t yet fully appreciated. It has long distortion-y epics like “Pass me the Hatchet” and “The Story of Yo La Tengo,” it has rocky pop gems like “Beanbag Chair,” it has lilting pop gems like “I Feel Like Going Home” and “Black Flowers.” Everything I want, and still unified-sounding, a complete album and vision (I disagree with you here, Austin). I wrote a review for The Depauw that said that this was one of the best albums Yo La Tengo has released; I stand by that. In a year that left me feeling absolutely disenfranchised with contemporary rock, a few veteran groups (Sonic Youth, Sparklehorse, Jarvis Cocker) reminded me that indie rock can still speak to me and be relevant, if not in its most current form (fuck you Decemberists!). Yo La Tengo did the best job of that for me.

4. Belle and Sebastian-The Life Pursuit

Marathonpacks says that this is undeniably the best Belle and Sebastian album. I don’t agree, but I can see why someone (maybe lots of people) could say so; this album marks the end of Belle and Sebastian’s evolution from the relatively limited sonics of melancholy twee-pop to the anything goes complex aesthetic of complex pop epics. While the emotional content of If You’re Feeling Sinister still strikes me as more genuine and affecting, The Life Pursuit is unquestionably a more complex, mature, and superior album musically. Just listen to “Another Sunny Day,” “Sukie in the Graveyard,” or “Funny Little Frog;” these songs sound just as beautifully catchy and melodically rich as the 70s psych pop that seems to be the model. Like the groups from the 70s, too, B&S combine elements of T Rex, the Zombies, and, yes, the Beatles and melds them all together to make an album, and sometimes songs, that show elements of all the influences while not sounding redundant. Really, mixing elements of those three bands is enough to keep me busy for a lifetime. And Belle and Sebastian do it soooo well. I am unapologetic for how much I like this album; like quite a few albums on my list (Mogwai, Rapture, my #1 album), this album has been called a sell-out venture by die-hard fans; well, it is more accessible and poppy than older albums, but Stuart Murdoch’s songwriting genius is more mature and sophisticated than it has ever been. Plus, as I believe now more than I ever have, what is so bad about releasing a poppy album?

3. Herbert-Scale

As Jordan mentioned, Herbert has been around for so long and put out so much, but it took last year’s Roisin Murphy album for me to even learn about him. That’s a shame; I like the old albums of his I have listened to since then. I discovered him just in time, though; I don’t know what I would have done without Scales this year. Last year, I thought that Jamie Lidell had perfected the subtle art of white-boy soul meets glitchy electronica; I had no idea. The songs on Scale are perfect soulful dance gems; the melodies are catchy, the lyrics are interesting, the production is perfect. There have been several analyses of the political implications of Herbert’s songs on Scale; what I love most about this is how much work and thought a political interpretation requires, how subtle it is. I don’t want to go into that now, but look it up if you’re interested; here’s a starting point. What really keeps me coming back, though, is how catchy this album is without being overbearing. I have a feeling I will be grooving to this album for years to come.

2. Hot Chip-The Warning

I think this is the only album on everyone’s list; am I right? I win, though, since I have it highest. Actually, from what I have read, I get the feeling that if all of you had had more time with this (and if Jordan would stop liking his brooding shit), it might be in everyone’s top 5 for the year. I have had the luck of getting this album right when it came out, back in Berlin; as you know from last year’s list, I was already in love with the group. I didn’t really take them seriously, though; it was hard to with all of the white-boy goofiness of Coming on Strong. I had no idea, therefore, of just how mature The Warning was going to be. Not that it isn’t goofy and fun; it certainly is that. As opposed to the last album, though, the new one has all kinds of songs, slow ones with sad ones, serious ones with goofy ones sometimes with elements of both in the same song (see the title track). Like the old effort, though, the band’s lyrics are clever and poignant. I never thought that an album could be at once dancey and profound; this album certainly does that.

1. Cat Power-The Greatest

How could I resist this album’s title? Seriously, though, I have considered this album my favorite of the year since April or so, and nothing has been able to topple it since then. For a couple weeks I though the Rapture might, but it didn’t have the lasting power that this album does. I don’t really have that much to say about it; everyone already knows it, everyone already likes it. Maybe I should start with why I love it, then. As you can see if you look through the archives, back in January or whenever, I reviewed this and gave it a measly 8.1. The haunting melodies, though, don’t just give up after a few weeks of listens; they bring you back, make you think about the songs in different ways. The best part of the album, though, is how Chan Marshall ends all the songs. Why does “Living proof” end there, couldn’t it keep going? I want to hear more of “Could We”! This album is a clinic in how to keep your melodies but cutting them off; too many indie artists like to play song structures out until they die. Of course, the fact that I’m talking about catchy melodies and not introspective lyrics is certainly offensive to lots of Cat Power fans; that’s why they love Moon Pix while I love this album. Not that The Greatest is shallow or empty; on the contrary, I think the lyrics are just as poignant as any other Cat Power album, which is saying a lot. The moods of the songs are more varied than those in other Cat Power albums, though, which is another reason I love this album. It takes you through highs and lows; this is probably what Jordan meant when he talked about the lack of sad songs on The Greatest. For me, though, The Greatest can be the saddest of all her whole catalogue, because of this very diversity; the highs of “Could We” and “Islands” make the drops of “Hate” and “Empty Shell” all the more dramatic. Anyway, I haven’t said anything about the warm Memphis sound, but you know all about that already. It’s my favorite album; there, I said it.