25 \\ Stone Rollin’ \\ Raphael Saadiq
(2011)
24 \\ VEGA INTL. Night School \\ Neon
Indian (2015)
23 \\ Mister Mellow \\ Washed Out (2017)
22 \\ Humanz \\ Gorillaz (2017)
21 \\ Dreams Come True \\ CANT (2011)
20 \\ Chris \\ Christine and the Queens (2018)
19 \\ Thank Your Lucky Stars \\ Beach House (2015)
18 \\ Gore \\ Deftones (2016)
17 \\ Virtue \\ The Voidz (2018)
14 \\ The King of Limbs \\ Radiohead
(2011)
13 \\ Teen Dream \\ Beach House (2010)
12 \\ Diamond Eyes \\ Deftones (2010)
11 \\ The Colour In Anything \\ James Blake (2016)
TOP 10
10
22, a million \\ Bon Iver (2016)
When 22, a million came out, I was sort of an inactive member of the Bon Iver fan club. I had decided he wasn't really my thing anymore and I wasn't all that excited for a new one. Until I heard this. And then this. And just like that, I was back into the fold. It was a bold left turn that made complete sense for Justin Vernon, and it felt like the culmination of everything he'd done up to that point. This was what I always wanted from him, in some way. Sincere yet epic, harsh yet beautiful, cryptic yet emotional. I found myself sinking deeper into its sounds thinking, "If only I were talented enough to make music... I'd try to make something like this."
9
Double Negative \\ Low (2018)
Upon experiencing this recording, I was somewhat reminded of hearing Kid A for the first time (and if you know me, you know this is a huge compliment). I couldn't help but draw the parallels: both bands eschewed their traditional guitar based sounds for distorted electronics, both manipulated their vocals to a point of near disintegration, both destroyed the old to make way for the new, finding beauty in the chaos. And both looked upon the world around them, horrified with what they saw, and documented it in sound. Double Negative, (like Kid A) is a bleak but mesmerizing statement that rattles even harder in this moment.
I was able to tell Alan Sparhawk personally that this album makes me want to create art. He thought that was a pretty good compliment.
8
Carrie & Lowell \\ Sufjan Stevens (2015)
I can't think of many albums that capture the devastation, anguish, and confusion of loss quite like this. When I first heard it, I was still a year away from my own life-changing experience, but despite having little to compare to myself, I could tell that Sufjan truly needed a hug. The audience would be his shoulder to cry on. Opening with the line "Spirit of my silence I can hear you, but I'm afraid to be near you / And I don't know where to begin," he proceeds to bare his soul in reverence of the mother he hardly knew, with an honest, poetic intimacy. But it's much more than a eulogy. It's a spiritual deep-dive into what it means to survive such a loss as it colors your past and your future. It's the sound of watching old home videos in an attempt to find some solace and closure. And it's Stevens cementing himself as one of the greatest songwriters of a generation with a heartbreaker for the ages.
7
No Shape \\ Perfume Genius (2017)
Amidst the peaks and valleys of this last decade, there were a handful of truly remarkable albums that raised me up from the darkest moments. But few were as truly remarkable as No Shape. A record that insisted on breaking the mold in an epic display of defiance. It's a celebratory statement of love in the face of all obstacles. Love for others, but also for oneself. It's not exactly a typical "feel good" album. In fact, being atypical is what makes it so great. There are moments of darkness between the moments of light, moments of pop between moments of experimentation, moments of crying between moments of dancing. I may not have a ton of faith in humanity lately, but albums like this remind me that maybe we're not totally hopeless. I'll hold on to that when I look back on these tumultuous years.
6
m b v \\ My Bloody Valentine (2013)
Where were you when you first partook of the long-awaited Loveless sequel? I was sitting at home, pushing play the moment it was released in the early morning hours of February 2, 2013. I knew my buddy Greg was doing the same, so we messaged each other our reactions as we rode those tremolo waves for 46 minutes. Many have imitated the kings with varying success, but 22 years after changing the game completely, Kevin Shields & Co. finally returned to melt the faces of all would-be heirs to the throne. The last time Shields officially released anything at all was ten years earlier, contributing songs and score pieces to Sophia Coppola’s Lost In Translation (which happens to be my favorite film of all time, and one of my favorite soundtracks). Adding that context provides somewhat of a stylistic link and chronological midpoint from Loveless. But the truth is, this album would’ve fit just as well in 1993 as it did in 2013. Mbv is beyond the boundaries of time, beyond the limits of genre. It's been 7 years since. Here's hoping we don't have to wait another 15 for more...
5
Koi no Yokan \\ Deftones (2012)
When Deftones roared back to life with 2010's Diamond Eyes (not far behind at #12), I was blown away at how great they sounded after so many years and despite devastating tragedy. I hadn't been paying them much attention (or listening to heavy music in general) for some time, so it was a pleasant surprise to have an old favorite reconvert me to the fire. I certainly didn't expect them to follow that up with something that neared the glory of their seminal opus White Pony. But, damnit, they did just that. Building on the resurrection of Diamond Eyes, Koi no Yokan (Japanese for "love's premonition") perfectly realizes the dream-metal ecstasy they'd been cultivating for a couple decades, and weaves it all together with Spielbergian cinematic precision. I'm telling you, this album flows like >Italian kiss<, and it also sounds amazing in a great pair of headphones. With universal acclaim from critics, it seemed like the band's legacy finally shifted from "Aren't they nu-metal, tho?" to "Nobody drop D's a Cure melody quite like these guys." Guess they finally caught up.
When The Go! Team's DIY debut rocked the indie-pop world in 2005, it was little more than the bedroom tinkerings of producer Ian Parton. An impossibly fun but fleeting flavor of the moment, I thought. I wasn't even paying attention when sophomore effort Proof of Youth added more live band elements (including star-powered front woman Ninja), and I didn't notice that things started heating up with stand-alone single "Milk Crisis" a year later. The only reason I even gave Rolling Blackouts a listen was because an internet friend sent me a torrent a month before its release, raving about the glory. And, boy, was I unprepared.
A few songs in, I thought "They can't all be this good. The next one has to be a dud..." but the duds never came. Parton & Co. had perfected the formula and hit the ground running with one perfectly executed garage-rock flavored blacktop pep rally fuzz-jam after the other. I couldn't believe it. Every time I put it on I wanna bend steel with my bare hands. In fact, if the album has one negative, it's that it's exhausting staying turnt for 40 minutes straight (maybe that's why it's called "Rolling Blackouts?"). 15 years on, nobody sounds quite like this group, and for the life of me I can't understand why they're not praised more, especially for this flawless victory. It sounds like cities in Japan look. It sounds like a Saturday Morning Cartoons greatest hits. It makes me feel like a super hero in a world that truly needs them. Quite simply one of the most sublimely crafted "pop" albums I have ever heard.
And I wish more people knew that.
3
A Moon Shaped Pool \\ Radiohead (2016)
In 2016, there were three albums that accurately mapped the hardest year of my life, each one speaking to the emotional pillars of that experience: Gore by Deftones (#18) exploded with rage and defiant rebirth, The Colour in Anything by Jame Blake (#11) was soaked in sadness and regret, and A Moon Shaped Pool was the sound of exhausted, painful acceptance. Of closing my eyes and letting it happen. Thom Yorke had taken his personal horrors and given a voice to mine. And it wasn't just the horrors of my personal life, but the horrors of the world around me (many of which have only gotten worse since). I wish I would've told him these things when I met him a few years later. But I didn't.
All this considered, I thought a lot about whether this album might actually deserve the top spot. After all, my favorite band made the album that defined the year that defined my decade. Four of its recordings made my songs list (more than any other album). So why does it sit here at #3? Well, first of all, let's be real: any of the Top 5 could reasonably sit at #1 (the arbitrary differences between them for me personally are pretty minimal). But, the positive reason this isn't on top is that the pain has eased. It will always be there, just under the surface, and this album will always be its strongest voice when I look back. But, after all is said and done, I'm kind of glad it's "only" #3.
2
Bloom \\ Beach House (2012)
Listening to Bloom for the first time was quite literally one of the greatest musical experiences of my life. I was so enamored with Teen Dream (#13), that my anticipation was through the roof. So, I decided to eliminate the roof altogether. I took to my parent’s trampoline on a cool spring evening with nothing but my headphones, a blanket, and the stars above me. And what I heard in that hour opened up the sky. I wasn't just hearing it, I was seeing it. Everything was in its right place, and it was gigantic. This was beyond what I was expecting, but exactly what I had hoped for. How often can you name a time when the impossible hype for something was truly matched, even exceeded? Sure, it was an extension of the dream pop euphoria they had already established, but calling this "Teen Dream 2" is like reducing Empire Strikes Back to simply "Star Wars 2." This is perfection realized.
Very few albums have hit me that hard on impact. Would I love it as much without the enormity of that initial experience? Does it matter? These are the moments music was made for. Every great piece of art should have such an opportunity.
1
Plastic Beach \\ Gorillaz (2010)
Allow me some words here...
It's funny to think about now, but after the sanctified modern classic Demon Days in 2005, there was never any promise of a formal follow-up. Gorillaz still seemed like a flash-in-the-pan side project despite significantly upping the ante, artistically and commercially. It was a miracle that Demon Days even existed, let alone that it was so brilliant. Was it too selfish to hope for a third? We got a taste with Damon and Jamie's fantastic Monkey venture in 2008 and there were rumors of other projects. But as far as the cartoon band was concerned, it didn't look good. And then, in January of 2010, teasers started surfacing.
Phase 3 had officially begun.
Brothers and sisters, I can't think of many albums in existence that had me so damn hyped through its rollout. It wasn't just the music, it was a whole world to be immersed in (I must have spent hours playing the goofy online games). I soaked it all in. The project got so ambitious, that much of what was planned failed to see the light of day because of budget concerns (a problem they've remedied since with an onslaught of product and media collabs). Nowadays, Gorillaz is a full on franchise. An empire unto itself complete with the pros and cons associated with any mega-fandom, including an audience of passionate social media youths, many of whom aren't old enough to remember that Plastic Beach was where it officially stopped being a side project.
Brothers and sisters, I can't think of many albums in existence that had me so damn hyped through its rollout. It wasn't just the music, it was a whole world to be immersed in (I must have spent hours playing the goofy online games). I soaked it all in. The project got so ambitious, that much of what was planned failed to see the light of day because of budget concerns (a problem they've remedied since with an onslaught of product and media collabs). Nowadays, Gorillaz is a full on franchise. An empire unto itself complete with the pros and cons associated with any mega-fandom, including an audience of passionate social media youths, many of whom aren't old enough to remember that Plastic Beach was where it officially stopped being a side project.
As I put this write-up together, it's been fun to recall my initial reactions to all of this a decade ago. I rarely record my first thoughts of an album, but it just so happens I did so with this one, mere months away from graduating college. It was a turning point in my life, a new decade, new horizons. Gorillaz remains a rare entity in that their influence stretches far beyond just music for me, especially as an illustrator. So it's hard to separate all of that as I look back on this record. But, musically, Plastic Beach managed to capture the wonder, melancholy, humor, and uncertainty of a strange decade without knowing just how crazy it would get. It has the sense of reluctantly adapting to a world that's literally melting around you, with all the positive and negative emotions that might bring. It's an uneasy optimism we don't see a lot of these days (although Weyes Blood nailed it with her similarly themed Titanic Rising last year, at #37). As the decade rolled on, its power only grew as I found so many of my adult hopes and fears oddly mirrored in the tunes of the world's greatest cartoon band.
There have been three more Gorillaz albums since, all worthy entries to the canon (see #22), and they have expanded their empire to live shows, social media, and tons of branded merchandise. It's still a great time, if you dig that sort of thing. But Plastic Beach rounded out an original trilogy of albums who's mere existence seemed like a fluke. The spontaneous artistic explosions of two legendary creators and their friends. Blessings from the gods that we didn't deserve, but got anyway.
There have been three more Gorillaz albums since, all worthy entries to the canon (see #22), and they have expanded their empire to live shows, social media, and tons of branded merchandise. It's still a great time, if you dig that sort of thing. But Plastic Beach rounded out an original trilogy of albums who's mere existence seemed like a fluke. The spontaneous artistic explosions of two legendary creators and their friends. Blessings from the gods that we didn't deserve, but got anyway.
