Top 30 Albums of 2011 (Pt. VII)

Having now cracked the top 10, we're getting into the heavyweights of the year that was 2011. As usual we need a recap to see where the journey has taken us.

30. 4- Beyonce

29. The Dreamer, The Believer- Common

28. Just Once EP- How to Dress Well

27. Alien Observer- Grouper

26. Step Brothers- Don Trip & Starlito

25. Cole World: Sideline Story- J. Cole

24. Weekend at Burnies- Curren$y

23. Suck It and See- Arctic Monkeys

22. Celestial Lineage- Wolves in the Throne Room

21. The Whole Love- Wilco

20. Bad As Me- Tom Waits

19. Live, Love, A$AP­- A$AP Rocky

18. Helplessness Blues- Fleet Foxes

17. 21- Adele

16. Wounded Rhymes- Lykke Li

15. Hilarious- Louis C.K.

14. Cults- Cults

13. Goblin- Tyler, the Creator

12. Tomboy- Panda Bear

11. Strange Mercy- St. Vincent

10. Parallax- Atlas Sound  

9.  Nostalgia, Ultra- Frank Ocean

#8 House of Balloons- The Weeknd

 

There’s a point inn “Wicked Games,” one of the strongest cuts from The Weeknd’s debut mixtape where he tellingly confesses “get me off of this, I need confidence, in myself.” It’s a stark moment of truth and intimacy on a tall-tale of an R&B record. If even half of the stories he tells on this drug-fueled, sex-addled, regret-laden mixtape are true, he doesn’t need a little bit of help, he needs to go away for good.

The Weeknd’s world is a frightening-one where nights of ecstasy-induced sex “High for This,” are not only recalled with chilling casualness, but encouraged. “You don’t know what’s in store, but you know what you’re here for,” he coyly sings over muted drum hits, the voice of an angel masking a devilish lothario. “Don’t be scared,” he tells her. But in a place this hazy and amoral how could she not be. Where singers like Drake or The-Dream show remorse in their actions, the Toronto-based Abel Tesfaye as The Weeknd has none. This is the only life he knows and he’ll do anything to keep it.

“I ain’t washing my sins,” he boldly states on “The Knowing,” a lulling musical-moment in a storm of skittish-depravity. That knowing in this case comes with the caveat that he too has been unfaithful to his partner, remaining gleefully quiet about the whole ordeal. It’s a situation endemic of the entire tape. On display is a house too toxic for us to ever enter, but far too compelling to not make an attempt. A house where the malignant moments of the night prior aren’t frowned upon, but celebrated with a smirk.

"Wicked Games" (NSFW)

   

#7 Take Care- Drake

 

Even with all of its success, Drake’s debut Thank Me Later couldn’t help but feel like a step-back from the phenomenal So Far Gone mixtape. The album featured the hand-wringing introspection Drake is well-known for, but the cash-in sounds of songs like “Fancy,” cheapened that introspection. The album came across as a collection of songs, lacking any continuity.

The greatest triumph of Take Care is that it sounds like an album. The muted star-tale “Cameras,” effortlessly transforms into the somber R&B of “Doing It Wrong.” The scorching Nicki Minaj feature “Make Me Proud,” blows up into the mammoth Just Blaze track “Lord Knows.” “Lookin’ for the right way to do the wrong things,” Drake raps alongside Rick Ross. The moment of justifying bad-behavior sits amidst shards of self-importance and paranoia that puncture Drake’s monstrous verse.

That conflict is at the center of Take Care, even in the singles. “I might be too strung out on compliments, overdosed on confidence,” he raps on “Headlines.” For all the likeability his confidence cultivates, it’s also a weakness. His confidence can’t help him on the drunken stupor of “Marvin’s Room,” and he’s left pathetically pleading. Those compliments buy him nothing here and he resorts to singing “you can do better.” The bombastic “HYFR,” can’t even rescue Drake’s ego, crushed by the memory of all his “exes.”

“I’ll be there for you, I will care for you,” he raps on the steel-drum sound of the title track. It’s a promise he knows he can’t fulfill, he’s been wounded too many times, “trust issues” clouding his mind. Despite his new-found confidence in his rapping and in his life, this is still the Drake of “Fear.” “Security follows me everywhere, so I never actually am alone, I just always feel alone.” For all the fame, females, drinks, and dollars, Drake is still chasing a dream he can never buy.

"Marvin's Room"

#6 undun- The Roots 

“To make it to the bottom, such a high climb.” Hip-hop is obsessed with stories of “grinding to get it,” earning money any way you can. Some rappers sold drugs to get to where they are now, others stole, and some threw their entire lives away for a simple shot. For every triumph, there are at least 10 tragedies. For them the ladder to success is filled with broken rungs, impossible to climb. So goes the story of the fictional Redford Stephens on undun.

Redford’s daily grind is one of violence; he earns his keep as a stick-up man. “I did it all for the money Lord,” guest Big K.R.I.T raps on the electronic ripple of “Make My.” Here K.R.I.T. and Black Thought as Redford are looking towards the finer things. They’re aware of the costs of this life and would gladly give it all up for “peace of mind.” As reticent of his career as Redford is, he knows he can’t afford to “go soft.” “Weak-heartedness cannot be involved,” Phonte raps on the militant beat of “One Time.” One slip-up for Redford in this life is death.

Death is an integral part of this album, the Grim-Reaper greeting Redford with the sound of flat-lining on the album opener. The consequences of this album are all-too real. Even as Redford celebrates in the sultry sanctum of “Kool On,” he keeps a gun close to his side, never sleeping. The weight of the “grind” is a load many rappers are unwilling to bear, but here The Roots lift it up, dropping it right on their protagonist’s poverty-stricken shoulders.

For Redford Stephens, destiny is uncontrollable. The only hope he has in breaking free from the shackles of destiny is suicide, an option considered in the drum-steady “Tip the Scale.” “Homicide or suicide, heads or tails,” Dice Raw sings. In Redford’s world, no matter how the coin comes up, his life has already been decided. He’s stuck trying to tip a scale that will never even out.

Far too many people in the real-world face the situation detailed in undun. They aren’t written about or remembered, their names the only thing they really had. The Roots pay this plight great attention here, painting an ugly picture few want to see. To Redford, right and wrong aren’t absolutes, but opinions. It’s easy to view him as little more than a petty-criminal, but in his world a life of crime is a life of survival.

"Tip the Scale"

 

Got a problem with a pick? Then let your opinion be heard. Think you know the #1 album? Then drop a line before it's too late.

Top 30 Albums of 2011 (Pt. VI)

We're cracking the top 10 as the year winds down, but before we do, let's take a look at how we got there.

30. 4- Beyonce

29. The Dreamer, The Believer- Common

28. Just Once EP- How to Dress Well

27. Alien Observer- Grouper

26. Step Brothers- Don Trip & Starlito

25. Cole World: Sideline Story- J. Cole

24. Weekend at Burnies- Curren$y

23. Suck It and See- Arctic Monkeys

22. Celestial Lineage- Wolves in the Throne Room

21. The Whole Love- Wilco

20. Bad As Me- Tom Waits

19. Live, Love, A$AP­- A$AP Rocky

18. Helplessness Blues- Fleet Foxes

17. 21- Adele

16. Wounded Rhymes- Lykke Li

15. Hilarious- Louis C.K.

14. Cults- Cults

13. Goblin- Tyler, the Creator

#12 Tomboy- Panda Bear

It’s no secret that 2011 has been a year for wistful nostalgia in music. This admiration for ages past has pervaded rap, electronica, pop, and indie from January to December. In a calendar year for reminiscing, Panda Bear was bound to succeed.

One second into the album, Panda Bear is recalling the Beach Boys more overtly than ever. “You Can Count on Me,” is the by-product of throwing a Pet Sounds record into a blender with layered vocals and industrial clanging. “Surfer’s Hymn,” meanders down a similar road before being coated in electric ash more akin to Animal Collective. “Slow Motion,” bleeds with broken beat-boxing and out-of-tune piano, singing about the childish-lie of “practice making perfect.”

Panda Bear’s homesickness for the past is palpable on “Last Night at the Jetty.” The wobbly beat leads to him singing about “dreams that we once had.” He dolefully inquires “didn’t we have a good time?” In the teenage fantasy that Tomboy hearkens back to, it’s a pitch-perfect question, and one Panda stalls in answering.

As marvelous as the malaise is, Panda Bear realizes on “Friendship Bracelet,” that he’s made “grave mistakes,” and daydreaming is never enough. A mature realization for the eternally-youthful Animal Collective drummer. Much of his past work both solo and with AC, has been about the pains of reliving the past while trying to grow up. Nowhere is that pain better felt than on Tomboy.  

"You Can Count on Me"

#11 Strange Mercy- St. Vincent

After more than a dozen listens, I still don’t understand this album. This isn’t for lack of trying. The environs of Strange Mercy are so impenetrable, that total comprehension is futile. This is an album that delights in being willfully weird, in taking the smiling face of commercial pop sending it to another planet and bloodying it up.  

“I’ll make a living out of telling people what they want to hear,” the decorous Annie Clark sings on “Champagne Year." The sentiment can’t go far for her, because who wants to hear such unfettered emotion? She lies to herself, promising a “champagne year,” that will never come, choked out by the cobwebs clinging to the unadorned walls of her life. Under the vocal manipulation of “Cheerleader,” Clark is controlled by a split she can’t comprehend. “I’ve told whole lies, with a half smile.” Her tempestuous guitar in the chorus jolts her back to life and for a time she is free. The uncertainties of “Northern Lights” are likewise put down by Clark’s guitar, a sinner in a saintly song.

Strange Mercy perpetually plays this game of stark contrast. The stutter-stepping of “Chloe in the Afternoon,” a tale of a high-class prostitute grown bored rests alongside the demure “Dilettante,” where Clark asks the fictional Elijah to “slow down.” The story-sketch is a call back to “Cheerleader.” She’s no longer having “good times with some bad guys,” but bad times with good guys. Even as she prepares for her champagne year in “Northern Lights,” she sings it’s “full of sober months.” There are still many mysteries I will never solve on this record, but with journalistic lines like these, I can come to understand the dichotomy of “strange mercy.”  

"Cruel"

#10 Parallax- Atlas Sound

If he wanted to, Bradford Cox could become a pop-star tonight. Professing to be a fan of Martha & the Vandellas, The Crystals, and a slew of other renowned girl-groups, he knows his history. On the cover of Parallax, he’s got “the look,” Sinatra-like in the way he clutches the giant- microphone. Most importantly, he can craft a catchy tune. The problem is, with his evasive lyrics and profound shyness, he’d be a fish far out of water.  

“You can come around, when you’re down,” he sings over the looping harmonizer of “Te Amo.” The track is pure puppy-dog love with a mysterious edge, enigmatic Ricky Nelson. Cox pays homage to the jangle-pop of The Byrds on “Mona Lisa,” and shows he has more in common with R.E.M. than their hometown. The track is a carry-over from Cox’s “Revival,” under his work with Deerhunter. Since Atlas Sound first began Cox has been using the two projects as staging-grounds for one another.

“Praying Man,” sees Cox in garage-rock mode, singing the requisite “sha la la,” chorus in an Elvis quiver drowning in gooey reverb. “Angel is Broken,” reminds me of a warped Roy Orbison with a strange sway. The pop act for Cox continues on “Lightworks.” The track sports a Dylanesque harmonica solo and whammy-heavy guitar playing. It’s a sock-hop song for the indie scene.

The record would be outright pop were it not for his tendency to coat everything with a reverberating veneer. Likewise, the lyrics of the interrogative “Modern Aquatic Nightsongs,” are too eccentric to rub elbows with the Ronettes. “Hey you got a story, would you trade with mine,” he intones on the blipping “Doldrums.” With this third Atlas Sound LP, it’s clear that Cox wants to want to take on the life of a pop icon. It’s up to him to see if the deal goes through.   

"Modern Aquatic Nightsongs"

#9 Nostalgia, Ultra- Frank Ocean

“When we were kids, we hand-painted strawberries on a swing, every moment was so precious then.” From the first line of Odd Future crooner Frank Ocean’s first mixtape we are washed in the waters of nostalgia. The innocence of “StrawberrySwing,” is soon sullied and the listener is dropped into the troublesome recollections of “Novacane.” Here the woman Ocean remembers is “paying for tuition, doing porn in the valley.” He gets too close and soon sees “cocaine for breakfast,” “yikes” being his only response.

These jarring juxtapositions cloud the view Ocean has of the past. On top of sliding guitar and in-the-pocket drumming in “We All Try,” Ocean reaffirms his faith in humanity. Such optimism is a far-cry from the 808s & Heartbreak-influenced “Swim Good,” where he envisions driving in the ocean to “swim from something bigger than me,” counting down to his own demise along the way.

Ocean succeeds because of these “walking paradoxes.” He’s at once lustful, wanting nothing more than a garden romp in the MGMT cover “Nature Feels,” but strangely loving on “Dust,” admitting to falling in love with a girl. In doing this, Ocean is more successful than any of his OF-brethren this year in creating a work that will have longevity. Our understanding of the past is often hazy, our own nostalgia regularly a contradiction. Ocean knows that full-well and has released a record that reminds of us just how often we intentionally forget our past travails, instead remembering our triumphs no matter how minuscule.

"Novacane"

 

 

 

Clams Casino Re-issue

According to Gorilla vs. Bear, indie rap-producer. Clams Casino has released an re-mastered version of Instrumental Mixtape, which features his now well-known cloud rap style. The mixtape features the instrumentals of tracks that originally featured Lil B and the Main Attrakionz, amongst others. The speaker-testing "Movitation," possesses a more marked lushness, the remaster smoothing out the rough edges. For fans of innovative beatmaking, this is a must have, made better by the remaster.

Download Link: http://hulkshare.com/10nsi8mxqvzw

"Numb" (Now the beat for "Demons" by A$AP Rocky)

Top 30 Albums of 2011 (Pt. V)

Since I didn't deliver the goods yesterday, I'm back with a double-dose today. That's right you'll be getting six albums instead of the usual three as we move closer to the coveted #1 spot. But first, a recap.

30. 4- Beyonce

29. The Dreamer, The Believer- Common

28. Just Once EP- How to Dress Well

27. Alien Observer- Grouper

26. Step Brothers- Don Trip & Starlito

25. Cole World: Sideline Story- J. Cole

24. Weekend at Burnies- Curren$y

23. Suck It and See- Arctic Monkeys

22. Celestial Lineage- Wolves in the Throne Room

21. The Whole Love- Wilco

20. Bad As Me- Tom Waits

19. Live, Love, A$AP­- A$AP Rocky

#18 Helplessness Blues- Fleet Foxes

Fleet Foxes are hopelessly preoccupied with the past. For them music stopped as the 60s came to an end. This is the most modern-sound the band approximates, often dipping into timeless folk-balladry. They long for a time they can never live in and this album represents that deep-desire to go back in time, if only in their mind.

“So now I am older than my mother and father, when they had their daughter now what does that say about me,” Robin Pecknold asks on the serene opener “Montzeuma.” With the voice of an Appalachian angel, he turns an eye to his own past, lamenting what he “used to be.” The song supplies rustic guitar work and harmonies that would make the Beach Boys proud. On “Bedouin Dress,” the groups utilizes Irish-tinged violin and recalls the restorative waters of Innisfree. “Just to be at Innisfree,” they join in singing, longing to be at the tranquil place once more. The jaunty “Battery Kinzie,” sees the band break gently from this pattern of nostalgia, focusing on a present problem. The track is a flimsy relief however, as Pecknold can’t help but dwell on what led him to losing his love.

Though the band spends a great deal of time dwelling on the past both musically and lyrically, on the title track Pecknold obsesses over his present station. “Just tell me what I should do,” he demurely demands. On this album, Pecknold’s past is a bright and glorious land to which he can never return, his present and future mysteries he is helpless to solve. 

"Grown Ocean"

 

#17 21- Adele 

Hopeless romantic and jilted lover. Adele inhabits these roles with a “fire starting in her heart,” as she croons on “Rolling in the Deep.” The moment that voice first emerges with the subtle guitar playing, you know this is a woman that’s been wronged, someone who’s suffered. She doesn’t need to go any further, one line paints a thousand pictures. The fire burns out of control on the propulsive chorus where Adele reflects on her heart being helplessly crushed. “We could’ve had it all,” she screams, her recollections the gasoline to the forest fire that is her former relationship.

That raging fire becomes a delicate ember on “Turning Tables,” Adele is lost, breathless under someone’s thumb. The cold piano-figure further quells the flames that burnt within her at as she has to convince herself she’ll “be braver.” Adele continues to look longingly into the past on the blue-eyed soul of “Don’t You Remember,” where she can’t help but wonder if she’s even still thought of. Desperation is a demon she can’t seem to shake, “just take it all with my love,” is the plea on “Take It All.” The piano-laden track, common to this album, leaves Adele listlessly floating in sea of conflicting emotions.

The great irony of this album is that its strongest, most redemptive moment comes in the most fragile package. The alluring “Someone Like You,” is the one of the finest closing tracks in years. “Never mind I’ll find someone like you, I wish nothing but the best, for you too,” she maturely sings over a single piano. Here her power comes in admitting defeat. The fire of “Rolling in the Deep,” has been put out, as Adele knows her former love found someone else. She can now move on, but knows it won’t easy. It’s bittersweet for the 23 year old, and a brutal reminder for the listener, that love is rarely an easy emotion. “Rolling in the Deep,” may be the catchy single that moves the body, but “Someone Like You,” is the heart and soul of this record. It’s a forlorn soul longing to be loved, staying cautiously guarded through the years. If age is just a number, then that number on the cover is lie. On this record, Adele has spent an eternity in and out of love.

"Someone Like You

#16 Wounded Rhymes-Lykke Li 

 

Can this even be the same Lykke Li? On 2008’s Youth Novels she hesitantly proclaimed her love, “I think I’m a little bit in love with you,” she cooed on “Little Bit.” That shyness is now gone. Li is no longer afraid to open up and on Wounded Rhymes it takes her to places she knows all too well.

“Oh my love, I’ve been denied it. Oh my love is unrequited,” on the album Li is fractured, but instead of wallowing in pain she finds power in it. The meditative ballad of “Unrequited Love,” is beaten senseless by “Get Some,” a galloping track where Li declares “like a shotgun needs an outcome, I’m your prostitute you gon’ get some.” Here Li is in a bold new place, in total control, wrapping a sad-sap around her finger. It’s Li at her most dominant, and she gleefully seizes the reins.

With the Ronettes-indebted “Sadness is a Blessing,” Li takes up sadness as her boyfriend, wondering if sorrow will be her only lover. The song’s deep drums and soaring chorus betray the pain Li is in. Li is pathetically hopeless on the stunning “I Follow Rivers.” When I first heard the song, it was my pick for song of the year and in the months since, nothing has changed. The track similarly employs a grand-sweep, masterfully concealing the desperation of the situation. “Oh I beg you, can I follow?” she pleads, willing to follow her unreciprocated love into the depths of the deepest sea. The disconnect between Li’s assertiveness and the situation at hand is staggering. Li is finding power in pitiful circumstances, convinced that things can change.

The love Li sings of on this album is complicated. It’s a love grounded and starry-eyed, empowering yet deflating, painful but comforting. These wounds may cut Li deep, but they are ultimately scars of strength, earned by an old-pro who’s been to battle before. 

"I Follow Rivers"

#15 Hilarious- Louis C.K. 

 

If I had no discretion in putting together this list, this album would sit steadfastly at the top. Cackling at all the inferior albums below, but as it stands I realize it’s more than a stretch to put a comedy album at the top of a year-end album list. In spite of my own reservations about placement, I have no problem in calling this the greatest comedy record released in the past 10 years.

“You’re all gonna die,” Louie reminds the audience on the intro. He goes on to relay that being dead is “mostly what you’re ever gonna’ be,” the starry-eyed optimism of tracks like “Kid’s Names,” giving way to Bill Hicks levels of cynicism. This shift is no doubt inspired by Louie’s divorce and hitting that magic number of 40. Much like his phenomenal FX show Louie, he extensively details the struggles of being single after “10 years of marriage.” In his life as a 40-something single dad, getting into arguments with a three-year-old over a cookie is a common occurrence. 

In the album’s strongest segment, Louie looks at the prevailing attitude in our country that we often want way more than we deserve, all the while hating the “beautifulthing” that we have. Louie’s observational humor has always been top-notch and now his social commentary has caught up. With this deft-blend of styles, Louie has released an album worthy of being called “hilarious.”

"The Way We Talk"

 

 #14 Cults- Cults 

When I first heard the jovial “Go Outside,” back in February 2010, I was afraid. I worried that this idyllic slice of indie pop was doomed to die before Cults as a band could ever begin. Hearing that song in the context of an entire album quells my fears, and I can easily rest my head on the bed of modern girl-pop the band has made.

The instant that shuffling guitar comes in on opener “Abducted,” and a distant Madelline Follin chirps over a whimsical xylophone I know that all is well. “I knew right then that I'd been abducted I knew right then that he would be taking my heart,” it’s a sentiment as old as the music Cults hangs their hat on, but still sounds strangely refreshing. Part of the revitalization comes from Cults combining this “formulaic,” style with alien elements. At times you hear synth and troublesome quotes from actual cult-leaders, two things unlikely to crop on any of the Supremes work.  

Even now, many musicians still struggle to open up and I have long admired Girl pop for doing just that with remarkable ease. When Follin, backed by a beat two boot-steps removed from Nancy Sinatra declares “I never saw the point in trying, cause I would only let you down,” on “Never Saw the Point,” it’s a nakedly-honest admission on an album overflowing with them. By the time the 50s flavored “Rave On,” sends us off into the night, we realize we’re in a place few dare to go to, a place where melancholy and merriment walk side by side.  

"Abducted"

#13 Goblin- Tyler, the Creator

“Bastard intro, how the f**k I’m supposed to top that?” Tyler questioningly snarls on “Goblin.” It’s a valid question, in the year since Bastard dropped Tyler and Odd Future have become lightning rods for controversy in the rap community. The young rappers who “gleefully” rap about sex, drugs, violence, and all-out debauchery are the new Slim Shady. Begging the question when does music go too far? Do lyrics matter if we know they’re fictional? Can something this venomous be considered art?

“I’m a f**king walking paradox,” he raps on “Yonkers.” Thanks to the video, still the most shocking I’ve seen in years, it’s a line almost any rap-fan has heard. With lurching synthesizer and repeated screeches that sound like a Bernard Hermann orchestra on speed, the track is the most important rap song to drop in 2011. The gigantic “Yonkers,” gives way to the punk-rap “Radicals,” with the anarchic chorus of “kill people, burn s**t, f**k school.” “She,” the first sign of relaxation, features an addictive Frank Ocean hook and is the most "mature" track Tyler has recorded. The three hit knockout of “Transylvania,” “Nightmare,” and “Tron Cat,” is Tyler at his vilest, soaring to new heights of degeneracy in “Tron Cat.”

The album’s back-half furthers Tyler’s imagined chaos, he calls out anyone who dare call him horrorcore on the virulent synth-paradise “Sandwitches,” pitting himself and his misfits against “them.” This violence is contrasted with the respite of “Analog,” which amounts to Tyler just hanging out and having a good time. “B***h S**k D***” follows and mentions its name a million times over. The song would be outright misogyny were it not for the wonky beat and adolescent lines offered by Jasper and Taco. Tyler kills the rambunctious pair at the song’s end and disturbingly lays waste to the rest of the crew on “Window.” “I killed my f**king friends,” he cries at the song’s end. “Golden,” puts an end to the violence and the album, as Tyler comes to grips with the conflicting natures inside him.

Tyler thrives on conflict and controversy, as this album fully demonstrates. Every time someone takes a line of Tyler’s and uses it against him, he smiles gleefully and politely tells them off. It’s Tyler as contradiction, he’s a kid who’s rapped about doing cartoonish amounts of cocaine, but proclaims to not drink or smoke. He’s killed more people in his songs than Dahmer, but couldn’t be nicer in person. His music is such a drastic far-cry from his real-life that the difference is often more-jarring than his controversial lyrics. For as divisive as his words are, we need people like Tyler. He artfully hopscotches between lies and truth, beauty and depravity with ease, “paradox” personified. 

"Yonkers"

 

    

 MORE ON THE WAY