My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #10

It's Top 10 time, that arbitrary line of demarkation between good and great. Since form dictates that being #10 is more special than being #11 (which isn't that much more special than #12 for some reason), I'm going to switch it up a bit and go one at a time here. Also, it's easier for me. And that's pretty much been my mantra of the decade: What's easier for me?

#10. The Rising - Bruce Springsteen

No point in beating around the Bush, we know what inspired about half this album: The 9/11 attacks. Does that make it more important when you put it in perspective? Less important? Nah, neither. This is just a damn good album from a damn good singer/songwriter.




Tragedy has inspired song since the beginning of both tragedy and song, so that's nothing new. But what was fresh on "The Rising" was the perspective. Yeah, there was some tracks on there for the metaphorically-challenged like Into the Fire and Empty Sky - and those of us in the area remember My City of Ruins being the lead-in on what seemed like every local news broadcast.

For the most part, however, Springsteen tapped into the local - if not necessarily the bloodthirsty national - mood and the result was practically medicinal. Take the title track for instance, or Worlds Apart, or even the more uplifting tempo of Waiting on a Sunny Day. Exponentially more reassuring and mature than say, shitbag Toby Keith saying "We'll stick a boot in your ass, it's the American Way". And they say folks from NJ lack class (and we can't discount his geographical heritage in the brilliance of this album either).

As the years start to roll on by and perspective sharpens, it's easy to forget that as a country, we jumped straight from tragedy into war - we had about 3 weeks to mourn while our systems were still in shock. Then we were told to shop. Then we were told to buy magnetic ribbons. Then we were told to fall in line. Then we were told to steamroll Dixie Chicks albums. We never got the chance to grieve and we didn't make the time to ask questions or more importantly, seek out the gray areas. We didn't get a chance to seek out solace. But "The Rising" did. It didn't diminish the loss, but it didn't accept the notion that peace would come only from vengeance. Or from shopping.

Bruce is never, ever, going to be confused with Bob Dylan or John Lennon or even Eddie Vedder when it comes to songwriting. He's always been rather transparent - though certainly not "dumb" or oversimplified. But in confusing times, clarity can be a good thing.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: 15 - 11

Because my mind wanders to wanderous places, after declaring that Bob Dylan would have the #1 album of the 60s and 70s, I had to confirm. And my instincts served me well. Here's what I came up with for best album of the previous 3:
1960s: Freewheeling Bob Dylan (narrowly over Highway 61 Revisited and The White Album)
1970s: Blood on the Tracks (over American Beauty, Dark Side of the Moon and Houses of the Holy)
1980s: Appetitie For Destruction (over everything.  Graceland, The Wall, Slippery When Wet and The River would probably be 2, 3, 4 and 5 and they're light years behind)
1990s: Ten (over Before These Crowded Streets)

Back to the lecture at hand. Creeping up on the Top 10....

#15: Some Devil - Dave Matthews. It took me much longer to get into this than it should have. Partially because I'm still scarred by the hiatus that Jon Bon Jovi took to record Blaze of Glory at the same time that Richie Sambora took off to record Stranger in this Town. It's never a good sign when band members work on "other projects". Still, I was required by the dogma of dmbism to purchase this album and give it a fair shot. I was so-so on it, I thought at first it seemed a little too forced, Matthews was was trying too hard to make the lyrics fit within the tempo of the song - something he does with the band as well, though they're talented and diverse enough to comply and make it sound seemless. That reminds me, has there ever been a more clever name for a band than The Band? Can't tell you how many times I've been asked something along the lines of "Is this Jerry Garcia?" to which I'd respond "No, The Band", and then the follow-up would be "Oh, the Grateful Dead?" Seriously, clever shit.

Back to Some Devil - I had my "Come To Dave" moment sitting on the dock with some family at my wife's grandmother's lake house a few summers ago. Relaxed summer atmosphere, just after sundown, having a few cold beverages and just enjoying life. While listening to "So Damn Lucky" it all clicked and the album's been a staple ever since. The Lake is funny like that. Certain albums just become "Lake Albums", and it helps you ignore the fact that Cat Stevens is an evil-doer that wants to blow up your children and hates you for your freedom.

#14. O Brother, Where Art Thou - Soundtrack, Various. There is almost no explanation for why I loved this soundtrack so. It's not exactly something you throw on while entertaining, it's not good drinking music, not great driving music, and while it can be relaxing - it's not exactly the perfect fireside CD. But I've always loved me some good old folk music, Allison Kraus probably has the greatest voice of any female singer since Joan Baez, and it conjures up images of a time in American History where all some people really had was song, so it does strike a chord in that respect. And really, if you were to rank the greatest American songs ever, wouldn't "You Are My Sunshine" have to be up there?

#13. Pearl Jam - Pearl Jam. I'm not the most organized person in the world, but there are some things I get OCD over. One of them is what candles are lit in what room of my house. Another is how I firmly believe that only a debut album should be self-titled. It wasn't cool when Metallica did it, it aint cool that Pearl Jam did it. You can't wait 15 years to release a self-titled album. But overlooking that transgression - Jesus, this album was classic Pearl Jam from start to finish. A "Ten" sound with the social consciousness similiar to "Vs" but magnified. 

More importantly, it transformed Pearl Jam -  in my eyes - from being just a band who made awesome music while I was in High School into an All-Time Classic act. I never fully got into the stuff post-Vitalogy and pre-Self Titled. Sure, a few good tracks appeared now and then, bought an album or two, but it wasn't the same as the early releases. They were probably the most defining band of my high school years, and boy was it great to see them back.

#12. White Blood Cells - The White Stripes. What's there really to say about an album that pretty much offers up everything? From the ingenious lyrics in "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground" to the exceptional composition in Hotel Yorba - which seems to borrow from every era of Rock History and then some, to the changing tempos within "The Union is Forever" to the slightly threatening nature of "I Think I Smell a Rat" and everything in between. When you analyize the album as a whole, you can't help but be amazed. But again, sounding too much like a critic there, and critics, shampoo, scrotum, etc.

White Blood Cells is just a fucking awesome album, enough said.

#11. Brushfire Fairytales - Jack Johnson. What a huge decade for Hawaii, huh? Shane Victorino ignites the Phillies to a World Championship, Barack Obama becomes freakin President, and Jack Johnson unleashes a slew of great CDs. Though, before making such a declaration, I think we need to see Victorino's and Johnson's birth certificates just to confirm that they're native born Hawaiians and not secret Muslim Terrorists hellbent on destroying Major League Baseball and the Recoriding Industry from within.

Ignoring the borderline repulsive imagery of scarred and mauled bubbly feet make Johnson inexplicably randy, "Bubble Toes" might be the most fun song of the decade. I mean, how can you not get in a good mood when it comes on? And "Mudfootball?" Come on, who didn't live through that? Reminds me of my innocent, pre-substance-loving life. And maybe that's what slightly bothers me about Jack Johnson. Dude's a little too content. Maybe I'm jealous, cause I don't think I could ever be that content. You could give me 10 million bucks and put Sean Hannity in a gulag and I don't know I'd be that content. But maybe it's as simple as he's found the answer: "Slow down everyone, you're moving to fast."

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: 20 - 16

Moving along, I wish I knew who the hell Taylor Swift was, so Kanye West could chime in and deprive her of a place on this chart.

#20: Encore - Eminem: Simple: If an album samples Martika, and also contains the lyric "Fuck Bush", I'm in all likelihood going to enjoy said album. Not my favorite Eminem disc, probably because it's a little muted in comparison to his earlier recordings. He's obviously an enigma and few musicians can spark as much love/hate opinions as him (really, do you know anyone who thinks "Eminem is OK"?), like everything else these days - likely fashioned by the media. But I'll get into that a little later cause methinks he'll be appearing on the countdown again. This album rocks because of the track "Mosh". It should have been released around Labor Day (not 10 days before the election), because it caught the essence of the 2004 election: We're not coming out to vote for John Kerry - We're coming out to vote because Bush/Cheney is the most dangerous threat to our democracy since the day before the Emancipation Proclamation was signed. John Kerry was a hard guy to get behind, but the vitriol for Bush that Mr. Shady put forth here summed up the motivating factors behind George Bush receiving the most "votes against" ever by a President running for re-election.

#19: In Between Now and Then - O.A.R: The first of three bands I really got into this decade makes it's debut. Now, O.A.R studio is a far cry from O.A.R live - which is much more enjoyable music. Still, of all their studio work, this one seems to rise above the rest in terms of quality of the tracks. Their lyrics are a tad sophomoric and I think they try a little too hard to be like other tour-bands, but at the end of the day, they're a fun band to throw on the machine. Hey Girl and Dareh Meyod highlight the album and also translate very well on their live discs. Never been to one of their shows, as scheduling conflicts seem to arise every summer as our time gets burglarized by commitments we'd really rather not honor, but one of these days, I'll hit them up. Guess I should start collecting party beads now.

#18: Broken Boy Soldiers - The Raconteurs: Jack White was to good 00's music as Ryan Seacrest was to annoying, poppy, fluffy, tabloid supermarket crap this decade - He was everywhere. I chose Ryan Seacrest for the analogy because he was pretty much the anti-Jack White. While White was involved in near-iconic albums throughout the entire decade, Seacrest was fluffing up his overexposed resume with such tripe like A Celebration of Heroes with George W. Bush and of course, the decade's septic tank: American Idol. He even took over for the indestructible Dick Clark on New Year's Eve, although Clark still made his appearances and I was supposed to not crack up laughing at them after 20 beers. Riiiight. Anyway, Broken Boy Soldiers is pretty much everything rock'n roll should be, rock at its roots. Intelligent lyrics that capture the essence of just being a human, along with solid intros and exceptional music. Really can't say a bad thing about it. And America didn't have to vote via text-message to approve of it.

17: Float - Flogging Molly: Of all the things I'm grateful for this decade - you know, stuff like getting married and Eli Manning - few things have impacted me the way that the music acquisition practices have changed. I've always felt that the Irish do 3 things better than any other culture: Drink, Make Breakfast, and Play Music. For most of my life, Irish Music was limited to the traditional folk songs and some rebel rock like the Wolftones. Because that's what I had access too. And then came the internet music explosion. And then came Flogging Molly. Formed in LA with a frontman from Dublin, they pretty much encompass everything I've always loved about music. And their subject matter touches all bases: relationships, war, peace, politics, rebellion, family, and of course, the unique Irish perspective on alcohol. Float is their most critically acclaimed album, probably because it's their most mature. A worthy investment, the album's perfect for a big party, a solitary commute and everything in between.

16: Modern Times - Bob Dylan: Something tells me that if I were to rank the top 30 albums of previous decades in my collection, this would make it the 5th consecutive decade that the Legendary Bob Dylan would rank in the top 20, as The Freewheeling Bob Dylan was probably the greatest album of the 1960s, Blood on the Tracks would hold the exact same honor for the 1970s, Infidels would have some stiff competition but would rank among the 80's best, and Time Out of Mind would do the same for the 1990s. What else is there to say about a man who continues to impress and amaze as he pushes towards his 6th decade in the spotlight? Modern Times basically takes a little bit of the definitive "Dylan Sound" that we're all accustomed to - from classic folk, to rock, to blues, sometimes all blended together - and adds the wisdom of a lifetime of experience by the greatest lyricist in American History. It's also the 23rd consecutive album to disprove the common misconception that "All Dylan sounds the same" yet the fallacy lives on.

One of the true enigmas of the last 50 years, I can't even begin to explain what my life would be like without Bob Dylan so I'm not going to bother. It's no wonder Dylan's favorite ballplayer is Derek Jeter.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: 25-21

Though not on the list, I'd like to give an honorary award to the Dixie Chicks. I tried convincing myself that they were good, but they're really not. Still, anyone who annoys tiny dick Sean Hannity gets some kudos.

#25: How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb - U2: This is where U2 and I finally got on the same page. When I first really started getting into music, circa 1987, I didn't like U2 cause they didn't sing about boobs or cars, they were "grown up rock" and at the time that was quite a turnoff. Though in the years that followed, I learned that "Grown Up" wasn't bad, it just happened to be that Grown-ups when I was younger were all Baby Boomers, and well, yeah, they were bad. When I was 16 or 17 and finally got into classic U2 like Joshua Tree and Rattle and Hum the band had done a 180 and got all technopoppy with their Zooropa crap. But here, Atomic Bomb, they returned to their roots and I was over the boobs and boomers and ready to enjoy. They lose points however, for the most annoying intro of the decade: Uno, Dos, Tres, Catorce.

#24: In Between Dreams - Jack Johnson: Ever have a song that makes you hungry? That's what Banana Pancakes, track #3 here, does for me every time. To the point that I'm smelling banana pancakes. I think I need to play this song every time I wake up on a Saturday craving McDonald's breakfast, kill the crave and lower the cholesterol. This album rotates back and forth between a great rainy day, chill on the porch album, and a beautiful sunny day, pilsner on the deck CD. Sure, it's got some songs that can get stuck in your head and drive you nuts, in particularly Staple It Together and Situations, which unfortunately are back to back, but that makes them easier to skip. Any way you look at it though, this album really makes you wish you had Jack Johnson's life. Freakin Hawaiians man, they got it all figured out.

#23: Stand Up - Dave Matthews Band: Full disclaimer: This is the decade where Dave Matthews replaced Jesus in my life so I may skew a little more in his favor than others. Conversely, I also may hold him to a higher standard, so as far as Stand Up is concerned, we'll let it settle right here at good old number 23. Is it DMB's best? Not by a long shot. It doesnt rank among his first three classic full-length releases or another disc that will likely appear on this countdown. But it's the best of the rest. Louisiana Bayou is an instant classic, and you just have to love American Baby - a song that got so popular that the magnetic-ribbon-frat-boys didn't even realize he was making fun of them as they were going apeshit when he played it at concerts. And of course, the dual State of the Union tracks: Out of My Hands and Everybody Wake Up. You'll see as the countdown moves along, I give brownie points to those musicians who told it like it was in the mid-oughts.

#22: Only By The Night - Kings of Leon: Let me get this out of the way immediately: some that I've spoken to swear Aha Shake Heartbreak is the Kings' best release of the decade. I don't disagree, however, as I was getting into it, there was a computer/upload/copywright snafu of sorts that wiped it off my system and I havent replaced it yet. So I can't sit here and put it in perspective when I don't have an honest perspective to put it in, that would be disingenuous. Now that that's cleared up, despite the fact that the word "Somebody" is overused, abused and over-exagerated on this album, simply put - it delivers. It took a while to distinguish itself in my eyes from their previous release Because of the Times but I was also very, very late to the Kings of Leon shindig so really, take my opinion for what its worth. You want an album to put on for a road trip, well this has an Allman Brothers Band-like quality for that purpose: the tempo picks up comfortably (without causing palipatations) and mellows down, but never too down, even on some of the slower-paced tracks. I give it one of my highest compliments: Good Shit.

#21. Light Grenades - Incubus: Now here's a band who's career completely passed me by. When I went on my music gathering binge in 2006, I came across this album and a previous one, Morning View. I have no idea what's considered by "experts" to be the better of the two, but when I would play Music->Artists->Incubus->ALL - I found that most of the tracks I preferred were off of Light Grenades - in particularly Ana Molly - a classic "What Coulda Been" ode to a fallen chick, along the same lines of The Ballad of Jane and Fly High Michelle. And that's good enough for me. The album as a whole seems like a counter-argument to most of the rock produced in the 90s: "My life sucks, come join my pity party and let's die". The overall vibe I get from Light Grenades is "Life Sucks, Wear a Helmet" - a much healthier perspective if you ask me.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: 30 - 26

Disclaimers:
1. These are my personal favorites, not a definitive list. I'm not a music critic, personally I think music critics, and people who think they are, should shampoo my scrotum.
2. Live Albums are not elligible. O.A.R. is the biggest loser here cause 33rd & 8th would be top 10. As would DMB @ Fenway. But it's an unfair advantage
3. No compilation soundtracks, comprised of pre-decade already recorded songs. All apologies to Almost Famous, which would rank very high. However, if a soundtrack was created and recorded specifically for a movie or play, that would qualify. But Chicago still didn't make it.
4. There is no Coldplay on my list cause I refuse to take part in a world that treats Bon Jovi as campy fluff rock while considering Chris Martin the British answer to Bob Dylan. I don't care how many trees he's planted.
5. Only albums which I own are elligible, so if I don't have it, I cant rank it.

Without any further delay, let me get this started:

#30: In Rainbows-Radiohead: I'm not as into Radiohead as I should be but this album did me solid. It's a rare unshuffleable (new word) album, reminiscent of pretty much everythin Pink Floyd's ever done - you kinda gotta let this album play out from start to finish, which you don't find happening too often. But I'm not kidding myself, I own this album because it was free to download. It could have sucked and it would have made the list because frankly, the recording industry owes me. I've sunk a lot of money into buying music over the last 25 years or so. I don't think that 99 cents for a song is insane, nor is 10 bucks for an album - but what about when I was dropping $16 for a Slippery When Wet cassette? You raped me Mercury Records! It was nice to finally win.

#29: Us Against the Crown-State Radio: Thank goodness for these guys. With Sublime and Bob Marley dead, I was prepared to spend the rest of my life without ever hearing another album that made me want a J, an IPA, a 70 degree afternoon and a hammock. State Radio provided and I am eternally grateful. The funny thing is, I never spend such afternoons with the aforementioned provisions, even though I have a hammock and can easily attain at least the IPA. Yet every winter I convince myself that I'll be spending a glorious afternoon doing just that when May rolls around. But the reality is, I'm pulling weeds and spreading mulch and hanging screen windows. FML.

#28: Dear Catastrophe Waitress-Belle & Sebastian: In the middle of the 00's I found myself DVR'ing reruns of "Dharma and Greg" on WE. Partly because I missed any and all TV that debuted in the late 90s, but mainly because, hell, I enjoyed it. It was hard to describe. As I would watch it, I would say to myself: I really should just put my testicles in a box and throw them in the Hackensack River cause it's hard to reconcile the production of testosterone with the viewing of D&G, but F it, I love this show and I'm not gonna apologize for it. Well, that's pretty much how I feel about this album.

#27: Late Registration-Kanye West: Much like the Cheesy Potato Burritos from Taco Bell, I can't make up my mind if Kanye West impresses or repulses me. Probably a little of both. He tied Joe Namath for the greatest unscripted moment on live television of the decade when, during the Katrina fundraiser, he said "George Bush doesn't care about black people". Heck, it was worth the Red Cross donation to see Mike Myers' face when it all went down (and you know, helping people out too). But on the flip side, this dude just absolutely loves himself to the point where you think he should have been an NFL Wide Receiver instead. But this album for the most part is quite entertaining, some good driving music (which I've come to appreciate more and more since buying a house 35 miles from work during the worst possible time so I aint gettin a shorter commute anytime soon), and plus, what kind of graduate of NJ's Public Liberal Arts college if the only rap album on my countdown was by a white dude?

#26: Good News for People Who Love Bad News-Modest Mouse: This album is raw, in a very good way, especially for the diversity of sounds on it. But thats sounding too much like a critic. In reality, this is just a great album to put on when you gotta get shit done, another practice I've grown to appreciate. Let it fade into the background and get to work. Preferably not on cheap earbuds though. Like I said, this album's raw. More fun useless countin down to come as the decade hits the home-stretch.