1. Panda Bear — Person Pitch
Animal Collective appendage Noah Lennox’s saccharine sample
collage takes the number one spot for a few reasons: No other record this year
captured warmth and honest innocence with such labored craftsmanship. The Beach
Boys redux vocals, gobs of reverb, saturated hand claps and milky dub reggae
beats reach a state of classic pop mantra. Layers upon layers of thunderous
field recordings fade in at pivotal moments throughout the album to heighten
its themes of friendship, not thinking too much and being comfortable. Delayed
melodies bubble into the foreground and disappear just as quickly. By the
record’s end, we’ve forgotten that it was made by one person on a computer,
fully immersing ourselves in the playful, sentimental wall of sound. All our
worries melt away.
2. Radiohead — In Rainbows
Finally Radiohead muster up the courage not to hide behind
lumbering electronics, instead embracing their accumulated musical wisdom to
craft a naturally gorgeous record, stripped to its bare essence. It seems the
Oxford five-piece laughed about heavy next-album pressures, had themselves a
tea break, and got down to the creative process. In Rainbows is more about
collective groove than singular virtuosity; guitar noodling is largely put on the
backburner, save for “Bodysnatchers,” and instead the band members lose their
defined roles in an effort to emphasize tension and mood, crescendos and
murmurs. Honed orchestra sweeps and organically toned arrangements take the
edge off the impending dread detailed in Thom Yorke’s lyrics. The paranoid
Brits may have finally settled down.
3. Deerhoof — Friend Opportunity
The fearsome Hoof trio melds computer wizardry with the raw
power of classic guitar blasts; sometimes on Friend Opportunity they forgo stringed
instruments altogether for summoned beat orchestras and sailing synth pads,
blanketing their experimental backgrounds onto the three-minute pop formula.
Greg Saunier’s spastic jazz-improv drumming is always
brilliantly on and off the beat simultaneously, and while Satomi Matsuzaki’s
shrill singing will turn some people off immediately, those who enjoy her
chirpy range will find much more to love in the group. The 12-minute suite
“Look Away” closes the record, originally composed as a film soundtrack but now
a perfect experimental jab of noise to punctuate an otherwise concise series of
intricate pop baubles.
4. Battles — Mirrored
Don’t call it math rock, call it a space jam. Battles manage
to intertwine barbed instruments in complex layers without any numbing
technical wankery — no eight-minute prog keyboard solos here, only military
precision. Thanks to effects pedals, Tyondai Braxton can warble like a chorus
of gifted chipmunks and it doesn’t seem absurd, just unapologetically modern.
On standout track “Atlas,” sharpened, lightly distorted keys duel over
rock-steady clacks, building to a catchy, charming, and prophetic uproar.
5. No Age — Weirdo Rippers
Dudes, thanks for growing up the punk scene. Dean Spunt and
Randy Randall introduce the perks of the ambient drone world to the fuzz-zone
of Husker Du with an L.A. skate-rat mentality. It’s like the first time you ate
a peanut-butter-and-Nutella sandwich. Weirdo Rippers alternates between
ethereal instrumentals and harrowing anthems from a pair of best friends who
grew up with the Smell, a downtown L.A. club staple. As poster children for
that scene, they are the first to break into greater fandom, and deserve props
for their tone-deaf yet euphoric tinkering.
6. M.I.A. — Kala
Where else this year could you find a Bollywood throwback,
aboriginal Australian kid rappers, London grime, and gunshot choruses on one
album? Maya Arulpragasam succeeds wildly with third-world beats and politically
charged club phrases, operating in her own post-everything global war zone of
culture. She bounces around like a spunky kid when addressing controversial
subjects like being refused a U.S. visa, and celebrates interracial musical
commingling. Nothing is off limits, and her approach is liberating.
7. Of Montreal — Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?
“Most Openly Depressed Album of the Year” goes to Kevin
Barnes’ opus Hissing Fauna, a record dressed in disco glitz that wants to lose
it on the dance floor, but has personal issues to deal with first. Insect
synths and a pristine production contrast with Barnes’ lyrical catharsis,
tackling subjects like antidepressants, lost love and a desire for the divine
marred by logic. It culminates with the 12-minute stream-of-consciousness “The
Past is a Grotesque Animal,” where Barnes’ psyche and the listener reach a
voyeuristic intimacy.
8. Animal Collective — Strawberry Jam
Prepare to be psyched — the Collective has returned with
far-flung sample constructions and newfound vocal bite. In contrast to the
group’s previous work, Jam shines like a precious metal, with each element
popping out of the mix in Technicolor. Noah Lennox further proves his
wholehearted songwriting chops with the strongest tracks on the record;
“Chores” revisits bouncy tribal ground and “Derek” bookends the album with a
sweetly shifting ode to a canine.
9. Sunset Rubdown — Random Spirit Lover
The “Dense but Rewarding” award is left for Spencer Krug’s
(also of Wolf Parade) other outfit, where the songsmith has free reign to
prance around like a Renaissance fair balladeer. Very few moments on the album
allow for breathing room, as the foursome tend to pack as many yodels, keyboard
flourishes and tuneful guitar exercises in a single song as possible just
before they reach freak overkill. After listening to so much mythical indie,
you may want to go live near a great kingdom and fight wicked beasts yourself.
10. Jens Lekman — Night Falls Over Kortedala
Jens, don’t be sad. You came out with one of the year’s
snappiest indie-pop collections, filled with witty quips and pillaged snippets
from old vinyl. From the hilarious lesbian cover-up “A Postcard to Nina” to the
soulfully awkward crush in “Kanske Ar Jag I Dig,” Jens managed to mix the right
amount of wry sweetness with a palette of finely aged samples. Sweden ought to
be proud.
