Here’s guest podcaster turned guest blogger Will Cleveland’s list of best albums of 2011. He’s a bit more sincere and straightforward than I am, which is why these are presented in countdown fashion. Click here for the Spotify playlist with a bunch of songs from both of our lists.
I present my top 10 albums list of 2011. (And yes, I realize that 12 is not 10, but I really, really couldn’t see myself eliminating any of the albums on this list. Each were important or memorable to me for various reasons that will be explored/expounded upon shortly . . . )
12. Wye Oak, Civilian
Wye Oak’s The Knot is one of my pantheon albums. It’s one of those albums that I will always come back to no matter what. To say that I was eagerly anticipating Civilian would be a huge understatement. And when the album was released, I was very pleased, but it didn’t blow me away like their previous two full-lengths. But this album is a grower and after repeated listens, I can honestly say that it is a bold step forward for the Baltimore duo. I can’t wait to see what the future brings.
11. Florence + The Machine, Ceremonials
I loved Lungs, but I love Ceremonials even more. The subject matter and content are darker. It represents a bold step forward for Florence Welch. Just listen to “Shake It Out.” That is an epic song in every sense of the word. And then listen to The Weeknd’s dark, twisted remix of the same song. It’s a wonderfully weird and twisted marriage. Florence + The Machine excite me like few other pop artists today. The sound is big and symphonic and this record delivers on all of those fronts.
10. Bill Callahan, Apocalypse
I was late to the Bill Callahan/Smog bandwagon. Now that I am there, I am all the way there. Apocalypse is completely brilliant. It’s Mr. Callahan at his best. His striking baritone has never sounded better, and at a brief seven songs, this album delivers. “America!” is one of the most badass songs of the year, while “Drover” tells an unforgettable tale. Callahan is a truly gifted storyteller and this album feels like a gift that just keeps on giving.
9. The Drums, Portamento
I had a natural inclination to hate this album. I didn’t really love the first release from these guys, because I was completely bugged by the buzz and incessant hype they received. My first reaction in a case like this is to completely write something off before even experiencing it. I greatly detest hype. The Drums obviously didn’t become a victim of their own hype. Behind the sunny, 80’s-influenced sound, there is a real darkness that I appreciate on this album. It’s one of the darkest pop albums of the year.
8. Jay Cue, Pyramid Life
Jay Cue was my gateway drug. He was my entry into the weird and wonderful world of Georgia hip-hop collective Nobody Really Knows (NRK). And avid readers of this blog (Ed. Note: Not Three Percent, but some other wacky blog the Will Cleveland writes for) are already aware of this (from the countless introductions and interviews I did with the various group members). To be blunt (pun intended), these dudes scare me shitless. They are all waaaay younger than me and they are already delivering incredibly thought-provoking artistic statements. Hal and Jay’s production on this album is stellar. The collection of beats are really unrivaled and all this awesomeness grabbed me at first list. Listen to album opener “Pyramid Life (Intro)” and I guarantee you will catch the damn disease. I am unbelievably excited to see what comes next from NRK. Tyler Major, Hal, Murdock, Gloomy, Luwees, Andre, Jay, Quince, Mables, KC, Foreign, and even Lynard, I can’t wait to see what comes next. And that’s not a tax. #Smugtweet
7. M83, Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming
Simply put, this is the most epic album of the year. And it’s not even close. There is nothing that rivals Anthony Gonzalez’s masterpiece. “Midnight City” and “Steve McQueen” are two of the best songs of the year. At 22 songs, this album feels like an event. It’s one that you need to blast in your headphones and then get lost in its grandiosity.
6. Tom Waits, Bad As Me
I randomly had a friend introduce me to Tom Waits in high school. He said his dad was a huge fan. Never before, I had heard something so weird. And that voice. Holy shit! There is nothing like that. With his first studio release in seven years, Mr. Waits added another incredible brick to his already strange and wonderful building.
5. The Weeknd, House of Balloons/Thursday
Toronto R&B artist The Weeknd (also known as Abel Tesfaye) dropped House of Balloons randomly and without warning on my birthday in March. It felt like one of the greatest birthday presents ever. Never before had I heard music so slinky, creepy, sexy, and utterly (can’t find the proper adjective here). Listen to these albums and you feel like a dirty voyeur. We are all complicit.
4. Frank Ocean, Nostalgia, Ultra
I became an Odd Future junkie during the summer of 2010. I downloaded all of their mixtapes off their Tumblr and I fell in love with the careless attitude and the fearlessness. And then I heard Frank Ocean sing the chorus on MellowHype’s “Hell.” He offered a completely different aesthetic and he showed me that it was lazy and pointless to try to categorize/pigeonhole OFWGKTA. (Ocean even retweeted me once.) And when he got fed up with the record business, he dropped his debut randomly on his own Tumblr. This album features him crooning smoothly over Coldplay and The Eagles. And then he offers up his own soulful brand of R&B.
3. A.A. Bondy, Believers
Mr. Bondy’s first two albums were nice and somewhat forgettable for me (and I am not sure why). But this third album, released in September, just hit the right spot, the right nerve. Bondy has an unmistakable delivery and voice.
2. Drake, Take Care
I know I probably shouldn’t like this album as much as I do. His previous effort, last year’s laughable Thank Me Later, is a steaming pile of horseshit. It delivered on none of the promise he showed on his wonderful mixtape So Far Gone. This album, his second proper release, delivers. Drake’s frequent collaborator, producer Noah “40” Shebib offers a wide range of understated beats that perfectly blend with Drake’s singing/rapping combination. The album is all about vulnerability and confusion, but at the same time, it is about excess and fame. It’s an intoxicating blend, especially on songs like “Marvins Room,” “Make Me Proud,” and “Cameras.”
1. WU LYF, Go Tell Fire To The Mountain
This album was a happy accident for me. And that’s the best kind of musical discovery. At its core, WU LYF present and represent an extremely silly anarchistic aesthetic. And for some reason, I totally buy in. I should be smarter than this. I shouldn’t like this album and this corny message as much as I do. These guys are my Bieber. This album moves me like few others ever had and it hits me in an extremely emotional way. And for that simple reason, this is my favorite album of 2011.
And in the words of Selena Gomez, don’t forget to dream out loud!
While looking back at an episode in his life, twenty-year-old Taguchi Hiro remembers what his friend Kumamoto Akira said about poetry.
Its perfection arises precisely from its imperfection . . . . I have an image in my head. I see. . .
The central concern of Sorj Chalandon’s novel Return to Killybegs appears to be explaining how a person of staunch political activism can be lead to betray his cause, his country, his people. Truth be told, the real theme of the. . .
Spoiler alert: acclaimed writer Stefan Zweig and his wife Lotte kill themselves at the end of Lauren Seksik’s 2010 novel, The Last Days.
It’s hard to avoid spoiling this mystery. Zweig’s suicide actually happened, in Brazil in 1942, and since then. . .
To call Kjell Askildsen’s style sparse or terse would be to understate just how far he pushes his prose. Almost nothing is explained, elaborated on. In simple sentences, events occur, words are exchanged, narrators have brief thoughts. As often as. . .
After a mysterious woman confesses to an author simply known as “R” that she has loved him since she was a teenager, she offers the following explanation: “There is nothing on earth like the love of a child that passes. . .
Floating around the internet amid the hoopla of a new Haruki Murakami release, you may have come across a certain Murakami Bingo courtesy of Grant Snider. It is exactly what it sounds like, and it’s funny because it’s true,. . .
The publisher’s blurb for Oleg Pavlov’s The Matiushin Case promises the prospective reader “a Crime and Punishment for today,” the sort of comparison that is almost always guaranteed to do a disservice to both the legendary dead and the ambitious. . .
One hundred years have passed since the start of World War I and it is difficult to believe that there are still novels, considered classics in their own countries, that have never been published in English. Perhaps it was the. . .
In the London of Hédi Kaddour’s Little Grey Lies, translated by Teresa Lavender Fagan, peace has settled, but the tensions, fears, and anger of the Great War remain, even if tucked away behind stories and lies. Directly ahead, as those. . .
One of the greatest services—or disservices, depending on your viewpoint—Bertrand Russell ever performed for popular philosophy was humanizing its biggest thinkers in his History. No longer were they Platonic ideals, the clean-shaven exemplars of the kind of homely truisms that. . .