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Best Albums of 2008 By Adrian Lee Christmas time: for most of us, that’s a time for family, friends, eggnog, gifts, frenzied consumerism, and that set of Pokemon cards you hypothetically wanted, but never got during the hypothetical winter of 2000. But for me, there’s no better time than Christmas to come out with my annual does-anyone-read-this retrospective of music in the year that was. And so, with due apologies to Stephanie Smith, Sterling Simms and Fear the State, whose albums came out on December 23rd and could very well rock the earth with their innovation and face-melting beauty, here are—by this man’s thinking, at least—the 24 best albums of 2008! Why 24? Um, because I’m writing this, so I get to do whatever I want. That’s why. Suckas. Honorable mentions/Winners of the “I Can’t Be Moved to Write Full Paragraphs About These” Award: Lil Wayne- The Carter III. Can I get over my mostly irrational dislike of Lil Wayne and the mainstream media’s huge gay crush for him to put him in my top 24? …I guess not. It’s only barely Lil Wayne’s fault, but I just don’t think this album is as unbelievable as everyone seems to think. Nas- Untitled. Only a few notches above average, but a dramatic and focussed improvement over the hugely disappointing “Hip Hop Is Dead”. Am I giving Nas a perhaps unreasonable amount of latitude here? Perhaps, but as his choice of production continues to improve (“Hero” is not unimpressive), he’ll remind you that for every “Sly Fox” (I’ve heard less subtlety in Christmas carols) he’ll put out a “Be a Nigger Too”, where he admits and rails against the contradictions in the world he lives. Also: “Untitled”? Really? Zaki Ibrahim- Eclectica (Episodes in Purple). Like far-funkier Nelly Furtado before she met Timbaland, but with the energy and confidence of a Lauryn Hill. It’s too uneven an effort to crack the top 24, but when the songs are good, they’re good, and serve notice for a young, promising artist that should be a huge force on the Canadian R&B scene. BEST SONGS: “Grow Again”, “You Choose”. Laura Marling- Alas I Cannot Swim. It's artists like the 18-year-old Marling that make me sad as I write a year-end compilation of album reviews. She comes in the singer/uber-precious songwriter tradition of a Fiona Apple and a Nellie McKay, and- just my looks-like-I'm-already-a-failure luck- boasts lyrics that indicate a wisdom that belies her precocity. Erykah Badu- New Amerykah. I’ll admit it: the only reason that this is here is because I have trouble believing that Erykah Badu has somehow weasled her way into being less crazy than perpetually-linked soul sister Lauryn Hill, and as a result I haven’t listened to this album enough to comment on it fairly. What I will say is that from what I’ve heard, this would easily crack the top 15 on my list below, featuring the unfettered funk of a Sly Stone but with the same hip-hop sensibilities and breathlessly lucid voice that has marked Badu’s previous work. THE TOP 24! 24. Kidz In The Hall- The In Crowd. Their debut album with the iconic hip-hop label Rawkus Records, “School Was My Hustle”, was seen as good, but largely disappointing for the fact that it was on the shoulders of Double-O and Naledge that this legendary label hoped to rebuild their considerable reputation. Maybe it was the pressure of Rawkus alumni Mos Def and Talib Kweli in the background, but with their sophomore “In the Crowd”, the Kidz became men, shirking their saviour mantle and just making music they want to make, getting rid of their sun-draped old-school vibe for a bass-heavy new school swagger that has become the future of the hip-hop scene. Leadoff single “Driving Down the Block” has become something of an anthem for the movement, and Phonte Coleman of Little Brother unsurprisingly drops an excellent verse on “Paper Trail”. BEST SONGS: “Driving Down the Block”, “Paper Trail”. 23. DJ/rupture- Uproot. What can I say—this is a big, bouncy mushroom trip. Put on this hypnotic album and the next thing you know, an hour has passed you by. It has the same piecemeal splendour of DJ Shadow’s seminal “Endtroducing”, but subtracts the hip-hop overtones for beats that are almost trance, almost danceable, almost tribal, and completely and seamlessly organic. 22. Black Milk- Tronic. While it’s been hard for Detroit native Black Milk to escape the critics hyping him as the next J. Dilla, it probably doesn’t hurt to occasionally entertain the thought that you’re the natural successor to one of the most widely-respected hip-hop producers. Like the late Dilla dog, Black Milk’s sampling acumen is outstanding and varied, his electronic sound grinds and tears like few others are able to mimic, and his emcee skills have already surpassed Dilla’s. “The Matrix”, featuring Sean Price and the always-outstanding Pharoahe Monch, also happens to be one of the top hip-hop tracks of the year. BEST SONGS: “The Matrix”, “Losing Out”, “Hell Yeah”. 21. Death Cab for Cutie- Narrow Stairs. Maybe it’s not as top-to-bottom strong as some of their prior efforts, but Narrow Stairs is a Death Cab album through and through, with some of their catchiest singles yet. It’s a tad indulgent—the first two songs clock in at 14 minutes in total—but I would only begrudge it if the results weren’t any good. “I Will Possess Your Heart” and “Long Division” are the stars of this show, sharing the same sunny, quick-moving pop spirit. While the heart-wrenching balladry is hard to find—the forgettable “The Ice Is Getting Thinner” barely register—this concise album does what it’s supposed to do, and leaves well enough alone. BEST SONGS: “I Will Possess Your Heart”, “Long Divison”, “No Sunlight”. 20. eMC- The Show. Masta Ace has always been one of my favourite and most overlooked lyricists, and when he re-emerged from retirement to join up with his younger brother, as well as established players Wordsworth and Punchline, for this collaborative album, they also happened to put out one of my favourite and most overlooked albums of the year. From “U Let Me Grow” which blows Kanye West’s “Mama” out of the water in terms of hip-hop songs you can play on Mother’s Day, to their brand of low-key braggadocio on “eMC (What It Stand For)”, “The Show” boasts the sort of confidence that rappers have who are assured of and unconcerned with their place in the game. The pitched-up sampling of 9th Wonder may now be passé in today’s brass-balled hip-hop scene, but here it’s just light and unobtrusive enough to allow the four rappers to show off their straightforward wordplay. And while there is a pretty flimsy concept that unites the album, and though the lyrics aren’t the most profound, this is just good hip-hop for goodness’ sake. Like a record by Dilated Peoples, it feels like a guilty pleasure, when pure positivity should never have to be. 19. Bon Iver- For Emma, Forever. All tenderness and bittersweet melancholy, Justin Vernon’s solo debut is an exposition on love had and love wrenched painfully away. Painfully pregnant silences give way to a voice that sounds like David Bowie on the verge of tears floating over crashes of acoustic twang, coming together like a Mount Eerie with all the delicate porcelain exquisiteness but without as much of the tonal monotony. It toes the line of being overwrought, but that’s the inherent risk of making album like this. BEST SONGS: “Skinny Love”, “Creature Fear”, “Flume”. 18. Tallest Man on Earth- Shallow Graves. For better or for worse, Bob Dylan’s shadow continues to yawn inescapably across the vast plane of folk music and refuses to shrink away, even as his voice deteriorates to the point where during his live shows, each song has to be footnoted with the title, just so the audience is sure. But to hell with just being influenced by the man, says the Tallest Man on Earth, who with this album lays legitimate claim to being Sweden’s finest Dylan impersonator. But rather than come across as banal dickriding, his coarse singing has its own innate melody that, paired with his nimble guitar work, makes the album sound more like a symphony than the individual effort this was. And if you were concerned that his European predilection would take away from any Dylanesque lyricism, lines like “I’m gonna float up in the ceiling/ I built a levy of the stars/ And in my field of tired horses/ I built a freeway through this farce” put that to rest. BEST SONGS: “I Won’t Be Found”. 17. Fleet Foxes- Fleet Foxes. THIS IS PASTORAL! That’s what this album screams—from the cover art to the sound, which is like Paul Simon and My Morning Jacket forced to live, Big Brother style, in a homely straw cottage in verdant countryside. While the album’s ease of listening justifies the critics’ fawning, it can come across as somewhat plain; like that Where’s-Waldo-oh-here’s-a-monster-face Youtube video, you spend the album nervously waiting to be jarred by something shocking, something outside of the Foxes’ comfort zone, but it never appears. And I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve heard all this before, which is the point I suppose, but for the fact that this was put out on this side of the new millennium, this would be considered humdrum not twenty years ago. Still, what it does it does well, and even if it is a one-trick pony of folksy whimsy, that is a delightful trick indeed. 16. The Raconteurs- Consolers of the Lonely. A big rock’n’roll stomper of an album complete with all the hallmarks of a Jack White production: his slyly versatile voice, big stadium-sized sounds, and an instrumental eclecticism that never sounds anything but right. When this album shines is when the group shows off how many styles it can pull off; “Many Shades of Black” sounds like a song right out of a Grease-era high school dance, the anthemic “Salute Your Solution” is all pomp and boisterousness, and the indolent riff on “The Switch and the Spur” haughtily spirals around at its own dawdling pace. But on songs like “Rich Kids Blues”, where the formula shows a little too much and things get a little staid, the Raconteurs don’t separate themselves from the pack as much as they should. Still, it’s no step down at all from this supergroup’s also-excellent debut. BEST SONGS: “You Don’t Understand Me”, “Salute Your Solution”, “Hold Up”. 15. Hercules and Love Affair- Hercules and Love Affair. More than ever, the mantra “it’s been uncool for so long that it’s cool again” is accurate. In a society that has made chunky cardigans and fluorescent colours acceptable garb again, it’s no surprise that disco has poked its head back to see whether it can make its way back. Hercules and Love Affair offers a fresh modern take on it, keeping what was catchy and ditching what was kitschy. But where disco once acted as an afroed meta-narrative of itself—look, we’re dancing now, and we’re wearing bellbottoms and having a great time!—Hercules and Love Affair injects a certain humanity to the thumping grooves and the wailing horns. “I used to see a twisted face/The only one I knew/I kissed the burning lips of lust/It's all I knew to do.” Let’s see the Bee Gees write something like that. Think Jamiroquai, but with more heart. BEST SONGS: “Hercules Theme”, “Blind”, “Iris”. 14. Jenny Lewis- Acid Tongue. People will argue that this is far superior to her stuff under the Rilo Kiley brand, but I think that’s an unfair digression—there’s barely a comparison to Lewis’ solo work and the music she puts out with her funkier, bigger-sound group. The first thing that will strike you is the album’s intimacy, and yes, it’s because it’s a solo effort, but also because Lewis’ voice sneaks through your ear like a black garter snake atop hills of low, shapely basslines. Whether she’s singing a sad ballad or taking part in a high-flying jam like the indulgent “The Next Messiah”, this is blues-country done right. BEST SONGS: “Pretty Bird”, “Bad Man’s World”, “See Fernando”. 13. Wintersleep- Welcome to the Night Sky. Wintersleep’s previous albums have been somewhat scattered, but on “Welcome to the Night Sky” they’ve finally matured into a sound all their own. No matter how high-flying their songs get, from the walloping guitars of “Tamborine” to the ominouslu percussive “Murderer”, you never forget that this is just a bunch of guys out of Nova Scotia. Wintersleep has always been a band that sings their songs to you, rather than at you, and lead singer Paul Murphy’s voice reflects that, striking that tremulous balance between weepy and poignant. This is now a band in the truest sense of the word; no element greater than any other, the group sounding as unified as if it were a single instrument in itself. BEST SONGS: “Hollow Man”, “Astronaut”. 12. The Knux- Remind Me In 3 Days... Perhaps the worst thing to happen as a result of the hipster trend is that people have become too quick to dismiss things with the umbrella tag. Deemed “hipster-hop”, The Knux—dressed in skinny jeans and fly kicks—have instead put out arguably the most underrated hip-hop album of the year, nimbly borrowing bits of Outkast and the Pharcyde and mixing them together with wailing (and catchy!) guitar-driven instrumentals. While they’re no Lupe or Mos Def lyrically, the two emcees know how to ride their high-energy beats, and that’s good enough for me. BEST SONGS: “Roxanne”, “Shine Again”, “Bang! Bang!”. 11. Girl Talk- Feed the Animals. “Mwahhh,” whined the collective, “this isn’t nearly as good as ‘Night Ripper’.” That may well be true, but let’s not forget that few people had heard anything like Night Ripper before it. And it’s also discrediting Feed the Animals, which is good on its very own. Featuring a Greg Gillis more focussed on hip-hop than his most successful record’s eclecticism, Feed the Animals does exactly what it’s supposed to—getting you to think, “hey, I remember that song!” as you get your ass in gear. And some of the pairings are either so forehead-smackingly obvious—Blackstreet’s “No Diggity” and Kanye West’s “Flashing Lights”—or so different emotionally when put together—“ Ahmad’s “Back in the Day” and Rod Stewart’s “Young Turks” is a recipe for hip-hop-tinged nostalgia—that you’re left wishing that you, or the artists who recorded the songs originally, did it first. And isn’t that ultimately Girl Talk’s genius? 10. Jean Grae & Black Sky Blue Death- The Evil Jeanius. Maybe the most improbable release of 2008, because catastrophically-underappreciated female emcee Jean Grae looked like she was on her way to early retirement (even going so far as to put out a Craigslist ad offering to ghostwrite lyrics for money), and production team Black Sky Blue Death had one of the best hip-hop instrumental albums of the year and was engaging in collaborations with the Wu-Tang Clan. And yet this album, unheralded and under the radar, found Jean’s always impeccable flow and wordplay paired with instrumentals so dark and grimy you have to clean the dirt from your ear. Perpetually pissed off and yet still silver-tongued, Jean weaves heartfelt narratives while alternately telling you exactly how thinly she’s going to eviscerate you with her lyricism, but the collaboration is so good you don’t mind the contradictions one bit. BEST SONGS: “Ahead of the Game”, “Away From Me”, “Threats”. 9. She & Him- Vol. 1. Rather than try to force in the reference I had to 14th century philosopher Pico della Mirandola, let’s just say this—I’m aiming for a liberal arts degree, and if you’re good at something, you should just stick with that. For whatever reason, actors take that to mean that any art form is theirs to conquer, often resulting in trite mediocrity like Scarlett Johansson’s Tom Waits tribute album, or instantly forgettable pop in the historic tradition of a Paris Hilton or a Lindsay Lohan. But for every billion failures, there’s always that exception, and doe-eyed indie sweetheart Zooey Deschanel, she of “Elf” and the upcoming “Yes Man” just happens to be it, with her impossibly smoky voice plucked right out of an AM radio. Familiar with her limits and collaborating with all the right people (that is, M. Ward, prominent Portland guitarist), Deschanel’s “She & Him” is a ride in an old convertible with your best girl and a big vanilla milkshake, vintage without pretension. BEST SONGS: “Sweet Darlin’”, “You Really Got A Hold Of Me”, “Why Do You Let Me Stay Here”. 8. Vampire Weekend- Vampire Weekend. Subtract the grassy knoll, and you know that John F Kennedy would be listening to Vampire Weekend. The soundtrack of prepsters in boat shoes and Brooks Brothers, it also happens to be an eminently catchy album that adds a rock sensibility to Paul Simon in his Graceland years; that is, of white people’s appropriation of African flutes and tribal rhythms. Doesn’t change the fact, though, that they do it damn well. That these guys are just coming out of Columbia University also implies it only gets better from here, which is exciting unto itself. BEST SONGS: “Campus”, “The Kids Don’t Stand A Chance”, “Oxford Comma”. 7. TV On The Radio- Dear Science. I’m not going to pretend—I admit to being a more traditional music listener, and have an aversion to bands that experiment violently, the sort of bands that ignore beat counts and common conceptions of how many instruments should be played at once. For too long, I believed TV On the Radio to be one of these bands, and instead, “Dear Science” has played like Portishead’s “Dummy” album if it were produced by Prince with alternating splashes of Radiohead’s dark percussion and the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ jaunty energy. It’s catchy but not without its discomfort, a turbulent storm of an album that is easily one of the best of the year. BEST SONGS: “Shout Me Out”, “Crying”, “Love Dog”. 6. Wale- The Mixtape About Nothing. Yeah, so it’s a mixtape. But when you realize it features more quality (and quantity!) than most artists put out on full retail albums, you’ll come to appreciate Wale, one of the most promising emcees to come out of this generation’s hip-hop scene. The DC native does his hometown proud, distilling the go-go scene that has dominated Washington for decades into instrumentals that are equal parts bright and emotive, evenly energetic yet devastatingly effective. He’s full of the swagger that marks the new school of hip-hop, and he features a relentless flow that is equal parts effortless and cutthroat, the words easily coming together like he was the Oxford dictionary. But even on a mixtape he’s not content to leave the envelope where it is, but rather delivers an impressive concept album that plumbs the Seinfeld iconography and expounds on the fickle heart of man, artistic integrity and the inevitability of maturity. Between all that, he applies the Michael Richards incident to deliver the most incisive treatment of societal racism since A Tribe Called Quest’s 1993 “Sucka Nigga”. BEST SONGS: “The Kramer”, “The Perfect Plan”, “The Crazy”. 5. Santogold- Santogold. You know how the smell of rain instantly brings you to think of spring? Well, the sound of Santogold’s debut album does the same with summer. Like MIA, except not at all—while she shares the same friends, and the same in-your-face confidence (see “Creator”), Santi White’s got a lot more musicality to her, and an exotic voice that doesn’t occasionally grate, sort of a tropical Tegan and Sara. Her collaboration with Spank Rock on the downbeat “Shove It” is inspired, but “L.E.S Artistes” is so uniquely her own sound—bouncy riffs, bright synths, a sunny sounding Santogold—that she may struggle to escape the standard she set with that song for her entire career. Listening to this album is like drinking a lime-dipped Corona on the beach, but is just as good to warm yourself up to on the dance floor in the depths of winter. 4. The Cool Kids- The Bake Sale EP. “Heralds of the new school” is not exactly a burden many artists want to bear, but with a laissez-faire attitude befitting two artists who could add their ages together and not hit mid-life crisis. While making music just for fun, they’ve somehow also become the rap’s darlings, their screwed-up vocal hooks and thick caterpillar basslines becoming copied by such rap icons as Kanye West and Pharrell Williams. This is music that makes you feel bigger than you are not because of any mention of having gats clap but because of the confidence the album bursts with. It’s an album that isn’t afraid of starting off with a song whose beat is a voice that states “Bass, clap, bass, bass, clap”. It’s music that’s about having a good time, and they’re having a good time making it. Without shame, without pretense, but with one of the best albums of the year, EP or not, The Cool Kids are, for lack of a better word, the flyest, and do they ever know it. BEST SONGS: “Mikey Rocks”, “88”. 3. The Roots- Rising Down. Where “Game Theory” moved the group’s sound away from its lighter, horn-driven elements, “Rising Down” perfects the grungy bass and crashing percussion that now marks Philadelphia’s finest. It’s their tenth studio album, and lead emcee Black Thought is almost 40 years old, but you’d never know it while listening to Thought spit straight fire for almost 4 minutes on this incisive, gritty and dark album that is undoubtedly their most well-crafted yet. From the blaxpoitation imagery on its cover to lyrics like “Vilified, victimized/Penalized, criticized/Ran into some people that was surprised/I was still alive”, this is a focused examination of the world as it exists, full of rage repressed and peoples oppressed. The Roots—always believing in live instrumentation and always pushing the limits of what is considered hip-hop—are only now reaching the crux of their artistic abilities, calling for and enacting change on a political and social level, and we can only hope their stint as the house band of the Jimmy Fallon show (retch) is short-lived. BEST SONGS: “Get Busy”, “I Can’t Help It”, “Rising Down”. 2. Q-Tip- The Renaissance. Is there anything more awkward than seeing an aging man try to recapture his youth? Whether it’s that rapidly balding guy in the shiny red convertible or your dad saying things like “wicked” and “dude” as if those words are still remotely acceptable in any social circumstance, nothing brings out the cringe quicker. And yet Q-Tip, whose best days were seen with his seminal group A Tribe Called Quest back in the early 1990s, came out with the best hip-hop album of the year. In a genre seemingly desperate to reinvent itself by separating itself from the overwhelming shadow of the golden age of hip hop, it’s ironic that it’s one of its veterans who has come out with the most distinct sound of the year by refining the already-forgotten jazz stylings of the late J. Dilla. The album, unabashedly released the day Barack Obama was elected to office, is danceable, smooth and funky while also boasting the wisdom of the years. This is minimalist jazz-rap at its absolute best, and sees The Abstract taking a more mature stance on women, life and love over tinkling piano keys and deep, decadent bass lines. And while no song soars, the album’s plateau hits higher than most of the albums on this list. BEST SONGS: “Dance On Glass”, “Move”, “Getting Up”. 1. MGMT- Oracular Spectacular. The best albums don’t necessarily have to originate a movement, but rather mold a genre to fit its own image. The best albums are able to move seamlessly between the “cool” of the indie scene and what is considered “mainstream”, and really just transcend the most conforming of distinctions. The best albums are able to take bits of what’s worked before and turn it into something dramatically new, bringing in new fans to a genre that wouldn’t have ever thought to look here before. MGMT’s “Oracular Spectacular” is just that album, and that’s why it’s number one on this list. Not just for its obscene listenability, even if “The Youth” is a heartfelt ballad that could very well double as this generation’s anthem, our own LSD-infused take on “The Kids Are Alright”, and regardless of the fact that “Electric Feel” is as catchy a single as any put out all year. But mostly because when you see an album cover with two men in tribal-hipster garb, and see the band name abbreviated like techno mastermind MSTRKRFT, you’re not expecting to hear the genuine orchestration you discover within. Indeed, there is an undeniable acoustic heart nestled within the psychedelic synths and the crashing drums. With this album, MGMT has managed to make “electric” more than a feel but rather an emotive sound, an instrument unto itself. Any one of these songs can be played in your room while reading a book, in the family car, on a road trip with friends, or in the clubs. And never once do MGMT let you forget that this is the sound of the future, of the youth. “This is our decision, to live fast and die young/We've got the vision, now let's have some fun.” Ladies and gentlemen of 2008, this is your best album of the year. Worst Albums of the Year I’ve always found it inherently contradictory whenever music critics—usually failed in their own bids for glory and groupies, or without a single musical bone in their bodies—tore albums apart. And considering I dropped out of music in the yesteryear days of grade 10, unable to capably distinguish between a half and quarter note, the following could be basically read as an exercise in pretension. On the other hand, it’s always good times to make fun of other people. So while these may not be the worst albums of the year—I’m sure someone somewhere allowed a tonedeaf singer to put out what they in all honesty believed to be worthwhile work (I’m looking at you, William Hung)—but these are the albums that rankled me the most this year. Let’s have at it! 2. N.E.R.D- Seeing Sounds. I get it, the album is like that condition where people see colours in front of them when they hear sounds. That’s really clever of you. But is the future of music really in choruses that repeat “All the girls standing in the line for the bathroom” over and over again until you can’t help BUT see colours? Six months after this album’s release, the answer seems to be no. It’s classic Neptunes production, but the mediocre-to-bad vocal work by Pharrell subtract from the overall feeling. 1. Common- Universal Mind Control. It hurts me to put him here, but the Common who put out poetry-in-music like “Like Water for Chocolate” and “Resurrection” is dead. His lyrics, now single-mindedly about his conceptions of love and sex, are less elegiac than they are overwhelmingly insipid. An anticipated collaboration with Santogold disappeared. The album’s release date, originally set to come out as a sun-drenched summer release, was pushed until the wintry depths of December. And it didn’t seem as if the instrumentation—largely handled by Pharrell Williams’ Neptunes brand—knew the thin line between music that was bright and summery, and an album that was the auditory equivalent of plastic. The eponymous Bambaataa-inspired single was good, a generally by-the-numbers club banger that was a needed addition to Common’s portfolio, but otherwise the beats overwhelm Common’s smooth yet sometimes soft-spoken style. A huge disappointment for an emcee who is capable of so much more, and does the worst thing one can do for an artist: make the listener wonder if his heart’s even in it anymore. |