The Decemberists – The King Is Dead
January 14th, 2011 

I know what you’re thinking — hometown bias, right? Yeah, I’ll admit there’s something kinda reassuring in knowing that one of your favorite bands lives in the place of your birth. And it’s also true that I’ve been a huge fan of The Decemberists since I discovered their debut album, Castaways and Cutouts, nearly a decade ago in 2003. By my count, I’ve seen them live eight times — way more than any other band. So when The Decemberists put out a new record, it’s probably fair to say that I’ll go into it expecting to like it.

But to be honest, I haven’t really loved one of their albums since Picaresque in 2004. 2006′s The Crane Wife and 2009′s The Hazards of Love were good, no question, but each was weighed down by its own ambition. The Crane Wife tethered its catchiest and most-radio friendly hits to a couple of ponderous multi-part epics, and The Hazards of Love, written as a rock opera, was overly dense and cumbersome as an album (though it was brilliant when the band performed it live start-to-finish).

By Decemberists’ standards, The King Is Dead isn’t overly ambitious: it’s not too long, it’s not too pretentiously biased toward the hyper-literate (although the occasional nod toward David Foster Wallace always helps) and it’s not focused exclusively on disconsolate peons and star-crossed lovers from a bygone era that never actually existed. In that sense, it probably doesn’t sound anything like a Decemberists album, but to dismiss it as a departure would be wrong. The King Is Dead features each band member in their element, with frontman Colin Meloy’s rich lyrics, twangy guitar and vocals sounding more at home than ever. But the grinding guitars and deliberate, pounding 4/4 refrains of Hazards have been abandoned; instead, this is an album with a light, free, soulful and rich sound.

The album was recorded in a barn in Happy Valley, Oregon, just a few miles southeast of Portland (and just a few minutes from a job I had shortly after college). I can’t help but think of home when I listen to this record. If you’ve never been to Oregon, this album does a pretty good job of approximating how the Willamette Valley feels. Does that make any sense? Probably not.

Ultimately, there’s nothing I’d change about this album. Each song has its place and its own story to tell, and it flows from start to finish effortlessly. And if nothing else, it’s by far the album I’ve listened to more than anything else in all of 2011. It’s The Decemberists’ best album yet by a huge margin, and at its heart, it’s simply great American music. And because it aspires to such humble goals, it succeeds beyond all expectations.

tUnE-yArDs – w h o k i l l
April 19th, 2011 

When Merrill Garbus and Tune-Yards take the stage, other modern music looks tame by comparison. It’s a four-piece band consisting of a bassist, an alto and a tenor sax and Garbus on drums. But the star of the show, without question, is Garbus’ overpowering, bombastic singing.

Garbus has such a rare and distinctive voice that, like Joanna Newsom or Björk, it’s immediately divisive. In other words, there’s a pretty good chance you’re going to find this album obnoxious and off-putting. But when her vocals are paired with the band’s haphazard melodies and groove-driven beats, it brings everything together to create a unique and undeniably compelling sound.

w h o k i l l is brash, brilliant and unlike anything else out there. It’s a testament to Garbus’ unflinching confidence and wild creativity, and above all else, it deserves to be played loud.

The Antlers – Burst Apart
May 10th, 2011

Rich, diverse, melancholy, relentlessly catchy. One of the best-constructed albums all year, Burst Apart sees The Antlers’ sound evolving from stark, high-pitched bleakness to  full, impeccably arranged soundscapes.

Bon Iver — Bon Iver
June 21st, 2011

From my narrow, skewed point of view, nobody’s making better music today than Justin Vernon. By that logic, if this were an objective list of the most profound or well-made albums of the year, Bon Iver would be at the top of the list, no question.

I don’t know how to explain it, but something about this album — maybe its tonal complexity or its rather stark departure from the mournful, lonely sound of For Emma, Forever Ago – just can’t fully deliver as a record. That’s not to say it’s not spectacular (it is) or that it’s not worth your money (absolutely), but there’s something about this music that only truly comes out when it’s performed live.

I was lucky enough to see Bon Iver last year at Austin’s Long Center, and the experience was stunning. This music was meant to be played by ten people on a stage at an acoustically engineered concert hall, and in that setting, there’s nothing like Bon Iver.

Bon Iver is a fantastic album, and it’s one I’ll come back to from time to time, but viewed strictly as a record it just doesn’t work as well as For Emma, Forever Ago. But if you get the chance to see Bon Iver’s sophomore album performed live, it’s well worth your time and money.

The Head and the Heart — The Head and the Heart
April 19th, 2011

Austin’s music scene is legendary, but if you ask an Austinite why it’s earned that reputation you’re likely to get a different answer each time. For some, it’s the legacy of talent fostered by greats like Stevie Ray Vaughan; others point to the current big-name successes like Spoon, Okkervil River and Explosions in the Sky. For others, it’s the vibrant and diverse number of bands coming through town at a startling rate and the unexpectedly huge moments that can create (remind me to tell you about the Green Day secret show I went to last year).

But for me, what makes the music scene here so compelling is the transformative effect Austin can have on a visiting band. Take South by Southwest (SXSW), an annual city-wide celebration of arts and tech that attracts hundreds of bands in the span of just a couple of weeks.

During my first SXSW in March 2011, I was lucky enough to hear about an up-and-coming band from Seattle called The Head and the Heart. I saw them twice — once at a relatively understated show at Antone’s, and the other when they opened for Yeasayer at, of all things, a launch party for a major web browser. Twice wasn’t enough.

The Head and the Heart isn’t really what you might call a “great” band, but they’re pretty damn good. Their sound is honest and subdued, understated throughout; simple, melodic verses culminating in infectious choruses. For some people, their lack of distinction might be a turn-off. But simple earnestness goes a long way with me. Honestly, I might’ve played this album more than anything else this year, and every song still sounds fresh to me. That’s about as good of an endorsement as I can think of.

When I saw The Head and the Heart at SXSW, they seemed unsure of themselves; singer Charity Rose Thielen’s vocals sounded awkwardly strangled at times, especially during her solo on “Rivers and Roads.” But when I saw the band performing at Austin City Limits six months later, that temerity was all but gone. I can’t wait to see what they’re like in 2012.

Girls — Father, Son, Holy Ghost
September 13th, 2011 

Catchy surf-tinged rock riffs, quiet ballads, loud and grinding hard-hitting guitars — this is a rock album. And when you consider the band’s history, it doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Girls is a band that, as far as I can tell, is only concerned with making rock music, and the particulars really don’t matter.

I think that’s what I love about this album — the variety. Each song is distinct in tone and style, but it’s all held together by Owens’ pleasantly stoic vocals and a keen sense of when it’s best to let the guitars take the lead.

Girls’ debut Album  made waves for coming out of nowhere with a retro-meets-modern style, but Father, Son, Holy Ghost has the band taking its foundation and building something truly impressive on top of it.

Radiohead — The King of Limbs
February 18th, 2011

I like to think of The King of Limbs being to In Rainbows as Amnesiac was to Kid A. I know it’s pretty much straight-up crazy to compare Radiohead albums like that, but there’s one key point I wanted to make: Like Amnesiac, The King of Limbs falls under the shadow of its far more accessible and cleanly defined predecessor.

The King of Limbs feels incomplete at first. It’s subdued throughout; it’s missing the intermediate track to wind things down before picking things up for the second half; it’s got the least-affecting closing track of any Radiohead album ever. But when you dig deeper into each track — and when you listen to it in full on a solid set of headphones or speakers — the details begin to unfold. And as always, it’s all about the details here.

For years, In Rainbows was infinitely listenable to me, just like Kid A was the definitive Radiohead album in my mind for at least a few years. But as time went on, it wasn’t Kid A that grew on me nearly as much as Amnesiac, its starker, less-revered companion album. But over the past few months, In Rainbows has started sounding hollow and lacking in substance; on the other hand, The King of Limbs is still full of surprises.

Foster the People — Torches
May 23rd, 2011

There’s no getting around the fact that this is a top-heavy record. Honestly, I can’t really tell you by name alone which song is which by the time the album’s midpoint rolls around. But it doesn’t matter, because the high points on Torches are just so damn good.

Foster the People’s debut is a little unsure of itself, but it’s endearing in a first-album kind of way. The sound they’ve cultivated is so catchy in a way that’s familiar without being worn-out. For my money, it’s the best indie-pop-whatever album of the year.

Fleet Foxes — Helplessness Blues
May 3rd, 2011

How did Fleet Foxes become a big deal? They’re a complicated and layered band with varied instrumentation and song structures. Even more baffling is that they’re also folk-y as hell.

Generally speaking, that’s not an established formula for a successful record. But Helplessness Blues has been a critical and commercial success, and most importantly, it proved that Fleet Foxes has a lot more to offer than their first releases implied.

The title track bears special recognition as an anthem for doing a pretty great job of capturing that fascinating epiphany almost everyone has where they realize that there’s more important things in life than, you know, worrying about life and how you fit into the grand scheme of things.

Wilco — The Whole Love
September 27th, 2011 

In my experience, very few bands have managed to both seriously underwhelm (A Ghost Is Born, Wilco [the Album]) and profoundly amaze (Yankee Hotel Foxtrot) like Wilco has. What’s most interesting to me is that Wilco’s “core” sound isn’t all that engaging on its own; it’s only when the band takes meaningful risks (watch I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, a documentary about the drama surrounding the release of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, to get a sense of what I mean) that they really shine.

The Whole Love doesn’t represent a massive departure or risk on the level of, for example, Sufjan Stevens’ The Age of Adz. But it’s a record with more than enough ingenuity and meaningful deviation from the Wilco norm for it to really stand out.