Top 20 TV Shows of the Decade: #5 - #1

And this is a wrap on what was a surprisingly good decade of television. Of course, thanks to technology like the DVR and having real responsibilities prohibiting me from spending each night partying, I've also watch a ton more than I did in the previous decade.

#5. THE SOPRANOS. The show that changed television. Think back to what was considered a “TV Drama” in 1999. ER? Please. JAG? Spare Me. Party of Five? Eff Off. Before the Sopranos, our serial television shows were formulaic and the lead character was almost always a heroic, upstanding citizen who in the end would do the right thing. That all changed with the North Jersey Drama. Throw out the inevitable bonus points for being filmed in Jersey, at places we all knew and sometimes frequented. Even if you were from Greenboro, Alabama, the Sopranos was compelling television.



At its peak, Sopranomania was unlike any other phenomena in TV history. At its end, millions of people worldwide were stunned, shocked and confused by its conclusion (brilliant in retrospect). In between we were introduced to a collection of characters that rarely disappointed. Some of the plots were drawn out, and too often the public was clamoring for some Godfather-like score settling while missing the bigger message about humanity: We live in gray areas. People you assume to be good can have deviant intentions, while folks you’d think were vile, hardened criminals could have many a redeeming quality. Messages and character development aside, the lasting influence of David Chase’s vision is that television changed forever – and for better – not long after the 1999 debut of this series.






#4. RESCUE ME. A beneficiary of the Sopranos impact and the result of real world events, Rescue Me may be the defining series of the 2000s. The only thing to overcome is the occasional outlandish storyline (and the fact that every season ends with a significant character dying). No show has catalogued the American response to 9/11 better than Rescue Me (which has the obvious advantage of being based on members of the FDNY). After the dust settled, after the last frayed flag flew off an antenna on the highway, America had to figure out how to move on with their lives, which were suddenly turned upside down. And Rescue Me’s conduit for that experience is Dennis Leary’s Tommy Gavin – a man who can be a better father than Ward Cleaver and a bigger douchebag than Tony Soprano on his worst day.


Since it’s 2004 debut, we’ve seen real-life issues that those impacted by 9/11, along with the country as a whole, dissected and portrayed in a fashion that’s not quite simple to pull off. When you’re not on the verge of tears, you’re laughing your ass off. We see the dangers of being an alcoholic, a workaholic, blind patriotism and devotion. Conversely, we see the redeeming qualities of managing stress, breaking your back to provide for a family, and putting your life on the line for the greater good. “Hero” is a word that was thrown around way too liberally this decade, but nobody’s done a better job of portraying the dichotomy of a Hero than Rescue Me – this morning’s villain is this evening’s savior. Be ware of jading a man on either his greatest accomplishments or his worst moment.


We see in Tommy Gavin what we see in ourselves: the man has many flaws, but that doesn’t prevent him from rising to the occasion and doing the right thing.






#3. MAD MEN. It’s only been three seasons but this period piece has already made its mark on television, and has been a homerun for the little known AMC that carries it. Never before in TV history has a character been as intriguing as Don Draper. And never before has a time frame seem so real and authentic as 1960-1963 have appeared in the first three seasons. Admit it – of all the subjects you’d be interested in watching a television series about, the life of an advertising executive in the 1960s probably would rank right above the life of a mute Scottish goat herder in the 1740s. But the results of the show have been nothing short of fascinating. The dynamics that each character brings to the table work in such a fluid motion that you don’t even realize it. Unlike past period shows, “Mad Men” isn’t ABOUT the early 1960s, it just HAPPENS TO BE in the 1960s. The events, innovation and popular opinions of the time are just a backdrop. It’s not a parody in the vein of “That 70’s Show” and it’s not an historical examination like “The Tudors” or “Rome”. I can’t stress enough how unique this makes “Made Men”.


All that being said, Jesus Christ, how awesome must it have been to have regularly drank and smoke at work and come home to a fresh hot meal and a stiff Scotch every night?






#2. THE WEST WING. I’m gonna save the long, drawn out soapbox rant about how the WW provided my wife and I one hour of sanity in a world full of bullshit terror alerts, illiterate presidents, trumped up phony wars, mass CD burnings, tax cuts for the uber rich, congressional debate on a woman who was comatose for 20 years, and Donald Rumsfeld. Who wants to hear that. No, the “West Wing”, aside from being an oasis in a shitty world, was probably the wittiest, most well written show ever. The dialogue, sharp and quick, was intelligent without being dry. The messages were uplifting without being condescending. And above all else, it had the courage to speak to its audience like adults – no minor accomplishment for a prime time network television show.


While it sometimes mirrored real life events too closely (possible presidential impeachment over insignificant issues and tax rebate stimulus checks) the bigger point to the WW wasn’t the policy or issues per say, it was how they were handled. It was about showing America how our government works in an honest and optimistic fashion. The Presidency of Josiah Bartlett was one that any American of any stripe would have been proud of, and the staff around him was even more impressive. We admired Toby Ziegler’s defiance, Josh Lymon’s intolerance towards bullshit (a character based on current White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel, who held Lymon’s position in the real-life Clinton White House), CJ Craigg’s moral compass, Sam Seborn’s zeal and prose, and most of all, Chief of Staff Leo McGarry’s battle scars, patriotism, and pragmatism. The secondary characters all brought something special to the show as well but after 7 seasons they’re too numerous to cite.


President Bartlett is in a most special tier of television characters, of this decade, only Tony Soprano and Don Draper can even challenge him. And maybe the show was too optimistic, too rosy and too impractical. Maybe it made us believe that inspiration in the public sector is possible when the reality is, it’s likely a lost art.


However, I remember the show’s final rundown, which focused on the search for Bartlett’s successor. Lymon left the White House to run an upstart campaign of a little known, inexperienced Presidential Candidate who was historic in the fact that he wasn’t a privileged white dude like the 40-something who proceeded him. After a long, tough and drawn out campaign that actually ran the distance on the primaries, that candidate won, and that candidate inspired the people to elect him to lead the country into a new era. And then I think, maybe the West Wing knew something about us Americans that we didn’t even know about ourselves.






#1. SIX FEET UNDER. Best Show Ever. Best Ending Ever. Most Interesting Cast Ever. Just some of the terms I’ve used to describe Six Feet Under, and 3 years after it’s perfect conclusion, I don’t take any of them back. The reality is, much like “Mad Men”, the premise doesn’t really suck you in to watch it – a family drama about a family run funeral parlor. Outside of the necrophiliacs and the morbid, it’s not as if it comes across as “Must See TV”. But 6FU debuted in the golden era of HBO – after the initial successes of The Sopranos, OZ, and (even though it aint my cup of tea) Sex and the City.


This platform and the publicity that came along with being on HBO allowed 6FU to flourish. From the vision of “American Beauty” director Allan Ball (which by the way, was my favorite movie of the 90s) we met the Fisher family and television was never the same again. When you speak about 6FU to someone who’s watched it, you’re preaching to the converted. Nobody who’s seen the entire series would argue that it’s among the best shows ever. When you speak to someone who hasn’t, they can’t fathom that from what they know about the show, that it’s as good as you say it is. But no show has ever covered the great taboo the way that 6FU did: Our mortality.


Nobody likes to broach the subject, few are comfortable even thinking about it. But 6FU tackled it head on. We aren’t going to live forever but its not our death that should concern us, it’s what we do with our time on earth that should. No character brought that fact home better than oldest son Nate Fisher. Who’s only real hiccup was getting his 10 year old sister stoned when he was 30 and Kurt Cobain killed himself for being too pure.


If you want to speak to the depth of the characters, look no further than Nate’s on-again-off-again-girlfriend/wife Brenda Chenowith. Talk to most men who watch the show and they hold a disdain for her on par with the likes of Terrell Owens and Hitler. It’s easy to dislike a character, but it takes some very special development over time to inspire such vitriol.


I don’t want to shortchange the rest of the cast be it the Matriarch Ruth, Middle child David, his partner Keith, youngest daughter Claire or any of the many others who drew prominent roles over the course of the show, but it would take too much time.


The most outstanding achievement of the show, however, was knowing when it was time to say goodbye. Many a show has gone off the air too late, and some couldn’t muster the staying power to last long enough. 6FU was a perfectly arced series from start to finish, not an episode too short nor an episode too long, and it delivered the single greatest finale in television history.


For all of these reasons listed above, and for the countless others I’m leaving off, I say without any hesitation, doubt, or disrespect to competitors that Six Feet Under is the Best Television Show of the 2000s.






And then some.

Top 20 TV Shows of the Decade: #10 - #6

The top 5 are extremely close, but these five were the hardest of all to seperate for me. I thoroughly enjoyed each and every one of these shows, and still do for the ones that we're lucky enough to still get new material from...

#10. ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT. If you want to sum up the state of the American Intellect with one fact, it’s that American Idol became a runaway ratings bonanza while Arrested Development could only muster up about 37 people a week to tune in. Luckily for me, I think I know about 23 of those 37 people. While many shows have followed suit, AD was the one of the first to abandon the laugh track and go documentary/single camera POV style. And if you go back now and watch a show with a laugh track it seems so contrived and forced, a stunning development coming just as the sitcom was saying goodbye to Friends, Frazier, Seinfeld and everything else that used to make NBC not a laughing stock.



#9. LOST. Nobody hates Lost more than the people who love it. But no show in television history has ever inspired so much chatter and speculation as this island mystery. Not it’s ancestors “Twin Peaks” or “The X-Files”. Not it’s rip-offs like “Fringe”. From the minute we saw the polar bear or heard the island monster, every scene, every character, every detail has been overanalyzed and broken down to whatever conclusion you’d prefer to assign to it. I think the defining moment of the show came off-camera. After Season 3 the network and staff decided to give the show a finite end date (Spring 2010 season) which in retrospect was absolutely brilliant. Free from concern over ratings or dangling just enough info to keep people tuning in each week or each season, the writers charted a time specific course to bring the show to it’s long awaited conclusion. Some people have been disappointed with the direction the show has taken – yet they still tune in on a weekly basis. Which means Lost is still doing its job.


#8. 30 ROCK. I’ll say it right now: Liz Lemon is the best lead female character in television history. Now that that’s out of the way, if you’re not watching 30 Rock every week, you’re living a deprived life. Every character is so integral and perfectly cast that you’re really not going to be left disappointed on a weekly basis. The satirical commentary on Fortune 100 Executive life, portrayed through Alec Baldwin’s Jack Donaghee is one of the greater signs of the times this decade. Tracy Morgan’s Tracy Jordan (do I have that right?) is possibly the funniest character on TV. Just last night he let us know that reason Catholics can’t eat meat on Friday is because the Pope owns Long John Silver. And that might not even be one of his 20 funniest moments in 4 seasons or so.

#7. FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS. The television graveyard has its share of shows that attempted to tap into the American obsession with sports. Most are forgettable, few make it past mid-season (“Coach” is the only show I can recall with some success). But FNL finally got it right. The reality of the show is, football is just a very small part of the action. However, it serves as the launching pad for everything else on the program, and in a more macro sense, in life. My first reaction to the program was great, it’s going to be 90210 with jocks and cheerleaders, thanks but I’ll pass I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’m eternally grateful that I watched beyond the first episode - where the star QB heading to Notre Dame becomes paralyzed, seemingly right out of the Official Cliché Playbook.

And while some storylines seem a tad bit over-the-top, at its absolute core, the show is a genuine tale of the American livelihood. Sure, it’s Texas-centric but remove the cowboy hats and television coverage of high school athletics and the struggles and relationships can be found in any old American town. The ultimate irony is, a show which my first impressions pointed me towards believing it was a run-of-the-mill typical high school “drama” turned out to be completely incomparable to anything else on television. And a big shout-out to Buddy Garrity – one of the more uniquely entertaining characters on screen.

#6. THE OFFICE. I have to admit how close this batch of shows from #10 down to #6 really was. Some are similar, some are unique, but I love them all. The deciding factor for me was to take a breath, step back, and ask myself “How much do I look forward to seeing X”. And in the narrowest of decisions, The Office wins. While it’s hard to call an adaptation of a foreign program “Original”, The Office hit a homerun in conveying the last frontier of American Life on television: mundane cubicle white collar work. We’ve covered the changing family dynamic from “Leave it to Beaver” to “Modern Family”. We’ve done the Blue Collar thing over and over again, be it “Taxi” or “Roseanne”. We’ve been to the inner city, suburbs and tax brackets we can only dream of. But a large segment of the population works in a boring, repetitive office and “The Office” exploits the ridiculous nature of the humdrum work day in a manner that millions of Americans can relate to.

Not every boss is Michael Scott per say, with his questionable decision making and apparent intellectual defect. But most people probably think that they, like the cast, are eminently more qualified for the leadership position than their boss is. One could spend hours recapping the funniest moments of the series on an episode-by-episode basis, but that’s not what makes “The Office” great. No, what makes it great is its ability to hit home for millions of Americans across all lines: gender, orientation, race, ethnicity, education and values. If you haven’t tuned in it’s your loss.

You HAVE to see this.

Thats what she said.

Top 20 TV Shows of the Decade: #15 - #11

#15. HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER. By reading the concept, it sounds pretty weak and lame. But catching on a weekly basis? This show is brilliant: Take your standard weekly sitcom and add the serial nature of a "quest" which seems to be all the rage these days. A slightly more realistic version of “Friends”, I admit there’s probably some bias because the main cast of characters are of the same age as me so in terms of flashbacks and experiences, I get it. Still, featuring a Canadian is always a plus, and the contributions to popular culture have been outstanding: Awesomeness, Slap Bets, Suit Up, The Hot/Crazy Scale, Woo-Girls, Legen…wait for it…Dary. Also, without HIMYM the rest of us wouldn't be aware that Canadians are afraid of the dark.


#14. CRIMINAL MINDS. Any doubts about this show were squelched with the shocking 100th Episode 2 weeks ago. Can’t quite call it original – crime procedurals have been around since TV was invented. But the subject matter and methodology separate this from the flotsam and jetsam like CSI: Dumont, NCIS and Law and Order: Building Permits Bureau Enforcement. Can’t tell you how many times someone said to me “Did you see Criminal Minds last week? It gave me nightmares”. Side note after last night: It was pretty messed up that Gideon didn’t go to the funeral.

#13. DEADWOOD. Al Swearengen might have been the best anti-hero of the decade and the first two seasons were among the best of any HBO Show. But the lackluster directionless wind down of the show left a pretty sour taste. All that being said, it’s not easy to make a Western/Frontier interesting these days. As a culture we’ve kind of outgrown it. That didn’t stop Deadwood though. Probably responsible for the greatest quote of the decade: “Won’t You Let Me Go To Hell the way I want to?”


#12. CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM. There’s two questions about my likes and dislikes that I’ve heard hundreds of times. First is “How can you love Bill Clinton and hate Hillary Clinton?” The second: “How can you hate Seinfeld and love Curb Your Enthusiasm?” The answer to both is simple: Cause I do. I don’t think I laughed as hard at a television show ever as I did when LD’s obituary for Cheryl’s “Beloved Aunt” had a typo replacing the “A” with a “C”.


#11. SCRUBS. The show that just won’t die. 2 cancellations, a few extended hiatuses, and a network switch, yet it’s still kicking and is one of the longest running shows on television now. Some of the characters can be annoying at times, but the balance between severity and hilarity is perfectly stricken. With characters like Bob Kelso, Perry Cox, and of course, Jan I Tor, rarely does Scrubs swing and miss. Not since Webster were we so graciously taught a new life lesson on a weekly basis.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: Number One

Well, this is it. I have to admit that I was astonished at the quality as well as the quantity of music recorded this decade. I really can't help but credit the digitilization of music, after all, all information yearns to be free and accessible, the way we acquire our music in this day and age is very conducive to establishing a very diverse and entertaining collection.

In retrospect, there may be an album or two I should have ranked a bit higher, The Rising comes to mind. But overall, I'm pleased with the way the list shakes out, even if #1 is a bit unconventional.

#1. American IV: The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash

Huh? Johnny Cash? In the time of the Dave Matthews Band, The White Stripes, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Eminem, Pearl Jam, etc? Johnny Cash?

Absolutely.

If you had to decide who the Greatest American Musician was, would Johnny Cash not be in the conversation? Would he not be the favorite? Elvis Presley was an historic icon, there’s no doubting that, but he was more of a performer. As much as I love The King, he didn’t write his own music. Frank Sinatra would have been Elvis if television was as popular in the 1940s as it was in the late 50s, but as much as we love Frank, there really isn’t an argument for him to be The Best. Buddy Holly, the VASTLY underrated pioneer, just didn’t have the catalog. Other mega-stars and legends like The Doors, the Grateful Dead, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen and Skid Row are legendary in their own right, but don’t quite have the iconic staying power as The Man In Black. There are jazz icons and country singers that have made an everlasting mark on the Great American Soundtrack, however they didn’t cross as many disciplines as those who would follow later, although many were prevented from achieving their ultimate potential thanks to societal norms.

No, I believe the discussion is boiled down to two competitors. Johnny Cash, and his friend and sometimes collaborator Bob Dylan. Personally I’d chose Dylan, but the argument can be made for Cash and even then, there’s no shame in being the runner up to Bob Dylan.

Do I think that I consider The Man Comes Around as a lifetime achievement award? Definitely – but not the way you might think. It’s not a case of “Let’s finally give Scorcese an Oscar”. It’s more along the lines of wow – what a fan-fucking-tastic treat this man bestowed upon us.

The crux of the album is Cash’s acceptance of his fate, the realization that his time on Earth is coming to a close. Instead of spending his days writing new material however (there are only 3 original Cash songs), he chose a collection of previously recorded works, some very well known and some obscure, that spoke to his bevy of emotions, his gratitude, and his regrets as the end drew near. In selecting songs that we already had familiarity with, he was able to convey these feelings in ways that new material wouldn’t have, at least not as substantially.

What separates this from being a run of the mill cover album? The depth and clarity with which he chose these songs. Limited to neither genre or period, the legendary musician spanned the globe as well as history to put together this farewell. In the process, he only happened to make the greatest music video in the history of music video’s with his cover of the Nine Inch Nails single “Hurt” – undoubtedly the most memorable of his performances on The Man Comes Around.

Beyond “Hurt”, Cash may be at his best on his home turf, country western music, in the way he tackles the traditional cowboy ballad “Streets of Laredo”. I mentioned earlier that I have a fascination with our own mortality and there’s no need to dive deeper into that, but the way that Cash slowly builds towards the end of the song, the cowboy’s acceptance that his time has come and he will not have time to right his wrongs is just gut-wrenching in its beauty. You know, if something beautiful can also be considered gut-wrenching.

Personally, his cover of the traditional Irish folk song “Danny Boy” shakes me to my core. I own multiple versions of the song, but what separates this one from the 345,376 different recordings is the raw and unrefined way in which it is being sung – and who’s singing it. The lyrics tell a simple, time honored story of a dying man bestowing his best wishes on a loved one he’s leaving behind. Often it’s sung by a healthy and strong tenor – which is fine, and often beautiful. But here we have a dying man, his deep and strapping voice fading and raspy bidding a farewell.

While the whole album is worth mentioning, especially his rendition of Simon & Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus”, one last cover I’d like to pay homage to is the Beatles’ “In My Life”. Probably my favorite Beatles song, the Cash version is 180 degrees different and like “Danny Boy” – is a contrast to the song we’re accustomed to hearing. While the original was recorded while the legends were in their prime, and decades later remains a staple at weddings – the ultimate symbol of looking forward to the future – lyrically this song was made for a situation like the one this great icon found himself in, as if the great John Lennon and Paul McCartney wrote this 35 years early specifically for him. Like more than a few tracks on the disc, you can’t help but appreciate the unique love he had for his wife June, mourn its loss, and if your belief system allows, appreciate the fact that they are at eternal peace together.

I would be remiss to neglect at least one original Cash recording, and of the three, the title track is most likely to be have eternal staying power. While it basically plagiarizes the Book of Revelations (the man was old, cut him some slack), it tells the tale of the pending Apocalypse that may or may not happen in 2012 with great fervor, and the acknowledgement that one man will be facing his Final Judgment soon.

Three pages later and I still feel I haven’t done this album justice. I can’t think of any comparison to such a great gift being left to us by such a figure. Like #2 on this list, the album was produced by Rick Rubin and he deserves many kudos and accolades. But it’s the aura, career, emotion and ability of Johnny Cash that makes this album what it is. To me, American IV: The Man Comes Around is the #1 Album of the Decade. To you – if you’ve ever loved or lost, mourned or rejoiced – it’s worth a listen.

Johnny Cash made his mark on American cultural history over the span of half a century and in his final hour, he thanked us for allowing him to do so. Humbly, Mr. Cash, may I say that the pleasure was all ours.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #2

And then there were two. Interestingly enough, both share a common denominator. Which will be revealed tomorrow.

#2. Stadium Arcadium - Red Hot Chili Peppers

For a band that pretty much spans my entire music-listening life, I never really connected with the Red Hot Chili Peppers for some reason. I always enjoyed them, I owned a few of their albums and was familiar with basically of their work, but they never reached that level that other artists in my collection did throughout the last quarter century. While “Blood Sugar Sex Magik was probably one of my 10 most-played albums in high school, they still never hit the mark. I always loved a little bit of their CDs, but not really the CD as a whole.



Then came Stadium Arcadium.

It was if they took that “little bit” that I loved off each CD and rolled it into one massive double disc of near-perfection. From track 1 of disc 1 (“Dani California”) to track 14 of disc 2 (the quirky “Death of a Martian”) the band strikes gold all the way through. Really, I could go into what I love about each song but there’s twenty eight of them. Lets just say that there’s something for everyone’s taste.

Furthermore, the album tends to stand out as a whole rather than a sum of its parts. They keep their vintage sound but it’s enhanced with a more mature production and lyrics that are keenly aware of where they stand in the here and now. Probably no more than in their release and slightly overplayed “Snow”.

Now, there’ve been more than a few songs that have induced drunken sing-alongs in my life. Whether it was “American Pie” while I was 17 and drinking in the woods, or I was 19, “Me and Bobby McGhee” in a dorm room, or my early 20s (ok, and late 20s. and early 30s) and the tools of humiliation were a karaoke machine and “Friends and Low Places”, drunken singing has always been a most favored pastime of mine. Panda Guilt be damned. And yes, I’ve left a certain showtune off this mini-rundown on purpose.

But that summer of 2006 (probably the best year for music this decade by the way). I can’t ever recall a more passionate bellowing of a tune than “Snow” that year. Full details, as usual, are a little foggy. But we were in a friend’s living room and I believe it was actually the last time that the cops were called on us. (Which would make it over 3 years, which HAS to be a personal record – that, or I have deaf neighbors). It’s got a very accommodating beat, but more than that, some very resonating lyrics.


Too often critics and listeners alike are quick to proclaim an accomplished artists’ later work a “masterpiece” or “vintage”. We’ve been seeing that with Bob Dylan for the last 12 years. While I thoroughly enjoyed Modern Times and Time Out of Mind, let us not kid ourselves. As good as they are, they’re not Blood on the Tracks. They’re not Freewheelin and they sure as hell aren’t Blonde on Blonde or Highway 61 Revisited. How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb was quality U2 that shared similar traits with their early recordings. That doesn’t mean it was on par with The Joshua Tree.


Stadium Arcadium is different. Stadium Arcadium is not only “vintage” Red Hot Chili Peppers, it’s the definitive Red hot Chili Peppers. It’s the work of a band comfortable with their place in Rock History. I’d call it the culmination of a quarter century of the highs and lows that any band that’s been together that long experiences, but that would be unfair. Who knows, it may be topped. When you can cut an album this good at this stage of your career, no achievement is off the table. The only thing I’m taking off the table though, is saying that I’ve never really connected with the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #3

This is it. The Top Three. I said the top 6 were thisclose, and they were. But I did not decide on what would be 2 and what would be 3 till this morning.

#3. Big Whiskey & The GrooGrux King - Dave Matthews Band

September Eleventh. My life changed that day. When the clock struck midnight and 9/12 was upon us, I knew my life would never be the same. I’d say there’s maybe a week or two’s worth of watershed days in my life. There I was, at one of the area’s more famous locations at the time when everything I thought I knew was exposed as myth. Continental Airlines Arena. September 11, 1999.


It was the first of many Dave Matthews Band shows for me – events that would define this decade in my life. In the irony of all ironies, this “ultimate college band” didn’t make my rotation till the months after I graduated college. But I would spend the next ten years making up for lost time, and then some, as I traveled up and down the northeastern seaboard in pursuit of the higher plane of existence that comes with the DMB Experience (and 6 hour tailgate).

Before “Big Whiskey”, the band had cut 3 studio albums this decade. All enjoyable in their own right. None came close to the genius of their late 90’s trifecta of Crash, Under the Table and Dreaming, and Before These Crowded Streets. Until Big Whiskey.


Before the album was finalized, the band lost founding member and saxophone great LeRoi Moore, and to a degree, the entire album is a tribute to him, right down to his nickname “Grux”. LeRoi alone was worth the price of admission to a DMB show, whether he was opening the concert with a solo for “One Sweet World” or keeping you going on an extended bridge for a long jam like “Crush” or “Jimi Thing”. His presence both in the studio and live on stage has been sorely missed. Owners of “Big Whiskey” are treated with a short LeRoi solo to start the album, titled simply as “Grux”.

Maybe it was the loss of LeRoi that forced the band to get back to basics. After three consecutive “over produced” albums, BW&TGGK brought it all back home to what made the band so damn good in the first place: Insightful and emotional lyrics that were neither judgmental or preachy combined with instrumentals that felt more organic than manufactured. The band knocked this one out of the park.

The Highlights:


-After “Grux” fades away on the album, the fellas get right down to business with arguably the best song on the album: “Shake Me Like a Monkey”. One of many, many Matthews tunes with not-so-subtle sexual references, this classic jam translates very well live on stage.

-It’s followed up by their first released single from the album, “Funny the Way It Is”. While the lyrics are a little, say, simple, taken as a whole the song is classic DMB. If you love DMB staples like “Crash” or “Satellite”, you could argue that this is the best song on the album.

-The much more mellow, tempered and deep “Lying in the Hands of God” comes next and honestly, my only real gripe is that it can disrupt the flow of the CD. It’s a petty hang-up and really shouldn’t be held against them cause I could never dream of putting such incredible words together like that. Those who really dive into lyrics, emotions and human imperfection may argue that this is the best song on the album.

-“Alligator Pie” is arguably the best song on the album. A tribute, albeit an odd one, to Matthews’ youngest daughter, violinist Boyd Tinsley is the star of the show here.

-What one could consider the best song on the album, “Squirm” is a throwback Matthews tune that would have fit perfectly on “Crowded Streets”. An introspective analysis of humanity, that also confirms Dave’s infatuation with the fact that we all came from apes.

-If you like the vintage Matthews track “Tripping Billies”, then you’ll absolutely love “Spaceman”. The beat is much different but the “Eat Drink and Be Merry For Tomorrow We Die” theme is stronger than ever. Bring everyone down to the lowest common denominator and you’ve got yourself and your partner in life, if you’re so fortunate. Everything else is ancillary. It just might be the best song on the album.

-All in all, what I have come to accept as the best song on the album, “Why I Am”. It’s Why I Am unlikely to agree. Yeah. That line does it for me. The song is the band’s formal tribute to LeRoi and everything he meant to them, everything he inspired in them, everything he taught them, and everything they miss about him. If it wasn’t such an incredible balls-out jam, it would choke you up, in particularly the closing line of the last verse: “When my story ends, it’s going to end with him. Heaven or Hell, I’m going there with the GrooGrux King”.

I’m not giving enough credit to “Seven”, “Time Bomb” and especially “Baby Blue” – all near-perfect in their own right, but honestly, I’m spent.


The only “miss” on the album is the closing “You and Me”. In all seriousness, this song sounds like it should be the opening theme to a 80’s family sitcom.

Bringing it all back home, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the Dave Matthews Band for the memories they provided me with over the last ten years; the dear moments I spent with my closest friends and family, my wife, and new friends I made along the way at the many different venues and hotel rooms throughout this quadrant of the nation. From Charlottesville to Albany, from Camden to Hershey, and smack in the belly of the beast on 33rd and 7th, the band and the people I shared the experiences with kicked my ass all decade long and I’m a better person for it.


And thank you for closing out the decade with a nearly perfect work of art (and using the word “Whiskey" in the Title)


Rest in peace LeRoi.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #4

If my dear friend and former bunkmate found it absurd that Eminem was ranked higher than Bruce, I fully expect a gasket to be blown this time...

#4. American Idiot - Green Day

Poignant. Telling. Reflective. Captivating. American.

I could probably describe American Idiot with paragraphs full of one word sentences (no, really I can’t, the above took me five minutes) because the album itself conjures up many different emotions. But what gets me the most about the album in its entirety is the picture it paints of early decade America. Post 9/11. Pre-Katrina.

I first heard the title track like many other people (or, I should say “men”) – as it was included on the soundtrack for the Madden 04 Playstation game. Really, this was a stroke of genius for bands to promote their work – the song would play as you were shuffling through the game options: franchise set-up, trading, stats, schedules, everything but the actual game itself. And because Madden was more addictive than crystal meth, you’d put in your good 5 hours a day and hence, become one with the songs without even realizing it.

After about 2 weeks of playing Madden, I was like “Hey, this is Green Day. Didn’t I used to listen to them back in 1994?” Which led to “Wait a minute? Is this song actually speaking out against the masses?”

And that it was. The long story is that Idiot in its entirety is a critique of all aspects of suburban society, from the plastic entertainment options available to the easy way out solutions of prescription drugs. And fine, I’ll take that for what it’s worth at face value. The album as a whole follows the protagonist, “Jesus of Suburbia” on a long journey of unfortunate discoveries about reality. But surprise, surprise, what really hooked me with the entire disc is how Suburban America got called out on the carpet.

I mentioned earlier how many Americans selectively forget what the nation was like in 02-03: many of those chanting “Yes We Can” last year were also referring to French Fries as “Freedom Fries”. And for crying out loud. Was there ever a more petty, nonsensical, bigger display of immaturity in history? Renaming side dishes? Really? Well open a newspaper pal: France 1 – You 0.

What killed me here was being backed into having to defend France though. France versus the Cavemen was the most difficult match to watch since the Lakers and Bulls squared off in the 1991 NBA Finals.

The high water mark of the album is probably the spoken verse in “Holiday”:

Sieg Heil to the President Gasman, Bombs away is your punishment

Pulverize the Eiffel Towers, Who criticize your government

Bang bang goes the broken glass and Kill all the f*gs that don't agree

Trials by fire setting fire, Is not a way that's meant for me

In four short sentences, they manage to summarize everything that was wrong at the time, and in some cases still is:

· The propaganda tactics that would have made Joseph Goebbels blush

· The childish demonizing of France

· The rampant homophobia that’s been a stain on our search for a More Perfect Union

· The absolute intolerance for anyone who thought “Um hey…this might not be the best idea”

The most precious American value is our natural right of Free Speech, and in a time dominated by the steamrolling of Dixie Chicks albums and the unfortunate pouring of French wine and vodka down the sewer (alcohol abuse!) it was comforting to see someone take advantage of this sacred responsibility.

Like many albums, there’s some tracks that just don’t pass the smell test. “Wake Me Up When September Ends” is one of the more annoying tunes of the decade and about as useless as tits on a bull to the flow of the rest of the album. It’s deficiency is more than compensated though, from the “Jesus of Suburbia” suite, to the deeper, anthemesque “Give Me Novacaine”, all the way through the dramatic conclusion of “Whatsername”.

The album as a whole is a masterpiece coming from a very, very unlikely source. Combined with beer, “The West Wing”, and my wife’s sanity/love,I don’t know how I’d have gotten through the 1st part of the decade without it.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #5

A twinbill Friday, why the hell not?

#5. The Eminem Show - Eminem

I don’t remember when exactly I had my first exposure to Eminem’s music, but I do know that by the time I did, I had already formed my opinion of him and it wasn’t too rosy. In terms of pop culture, there’s a general formula I often follow: The more coverage and exposure you get, the less talent you likely have. It’s almost like a bell-curve, and it was foolproof for the likes of Brittney Spears, Joe Buck, and anyone and everyone affiliated with or “competing’ on American Idol.

But Eminem defied the Exposure/Talent Continuum. Before even giving the music a chance, I thought he was a spoiled, whining, no-talent homophobe who sang borderline controversial lyrics simply to get notoriety and push record sales. My opinion was one based of turdlets of info from the mainstream media. Big mistake.

After slowly warming to him earlier in the decade on a song-by-song basis, a co-worker and friend burned me a copy of The Eminem Show upon it’s release in 2002. After a few listens-through, I was in absolute awe of just about every track (save for the stupid skits, a disturbing but tolerable 21st century development). For the next year, it seemed everyone I knew had come to the same realization as I did and this album seemed to always be on the stereo (or in some cases, they were much quicker than I to realize the man’s talent).

Taken on the surface (which is pretty much all the media bothered with) yes, the lyrics and visuals on The Eminem Show could be considered offensive, childish or obscene. However, when you take into consideration that (A) it’s the 21st Century and (B) what younglings were listening to before Eminem, you start to see the layers of genius buried beneath the unpolished surface.


Consider…


“Drips” – While it features descriptions of procreation you wouldn’t even hear in a locker room, it’s much more likely to educate someone about the perils of unprotected sex than 1950s-style health class lectures or having students carry around an egg for a week. Sure, you won’t be able to eat Sour Cream Dip for a while after giving it a good listen to, but I don’t recall spam like Brittney Spears or other early-decade best sellers warning people about the perils of AIDS. For all the campaigning Bono does, I don’t remember U2 ever telling it like it is.

“White America” – the ultimate Eff You to the hypocrites and those who prefer to put certain people and arts in certain boxes and cultural boundaries. You can break the song down line by line but there’s one that resonates and says it all: “Hip-hop was never a problem in Harlem, only in Boston, After it bothered the fathers of daughters starting to blossom”

“Without Me” – a simple ode to the media, critics and detractors. You hate me but you can’t live without me. I save you the effort of having to find something else to bitch about. You should thank me.


“Cleaning Out My Closet” – the one thing I do try to avoid is the drama about the dude and his mom and ex wife, but “Closet” is a powerful, soul searching, angry recount of the family drama that’s at the genesis of not only select songs, but his overall persona. And unlike some of his other maniacal and homicidal rants, this remains above the fray. The anger is there, thankfully, but the emotion is pure.

And my personal favorite track off the album:


“Square Dance”. A lot of people have painted over their 2002 selves through some pretty rosy revisionist history. A lot of people don’t remember the post-9/11 tension in the country, between the torch burning masses demanded the blood of all people brown, and the Fifteen Percenters who either didn’t see bombing the third world to smithereens as viable justice, or, who didn’t trust the “leadership” in place at the time to effectively execute such a plan. I remember saying to my wife “Where are the Bob Dylans? The Joan Baezes? The Byrds?”


It seemed like even music was following dehr orders in lockstep, nobody would simply call it like it was. Where was the dissent? Then there was Square Dance:


Yeah the man's back, With a plan to ambush this Bush administration,.
Mush the Senate's face in and push this generation,
Of kids to stand and fight for the right to say something you might not like

Amen Slim. Amen

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #6

Officially at the point where everything's a judgement call. At one point or another, I strongly considered all six of these remaining CDs to be my personal favorite of the decade. 'Twas that close.

#6. Elephant - The White Stripes

You just gotta love an album that continually kicks your ass and has you begging for more. In terms of sheer, raw, balls-out-unfiltered-kick-you-in-the-nuts from start to finish albums, I think there were only two in my life: Appetite for Destruction was one. Elephant is the other. Yeah, there’s been other albums that meet some of the criteria, but if you want to go start to finish with each track being un-skippable? This is it.

For too long, producers were getting too cute and creative, making the album about them and not the artist. Sometimes, like in the case of everything Rick Rubin seems to do, it works. Other times (cough: Glen Ballard) it comes across as disingenuous. But not with Elephant.

While “Seven Nation Army” is the most widely known track from the album – and arguably the best song of the decade, quarter century or any other marker of time you wish to choose, in my opinion the crowning achievement of the CD is “Ball and Biscuit” – a classic scotch-on-the-rocks-8-ball-corner-pocket roadhouse blues jam.

The catchy and quick “Air Near My Fingers” is one of those few songs that can get stuck in your head for days and have you not complaining about it. “There’s No Home For You Here” is just a savage asskicker.

It’s hard ranking this sixth, though I feel the same way about the pending numbers 5, 4, 3 and 2. I guess this decade’s going to be remembered for a lot of things: eight years of incompetence, The Jon and Kate saga, the Greatest Upset in Super Bowl History, the birth of Sonic in Northern New Jersey, among many others. But I’m starting to get the feeling that I’ll be looking back one day thinking how it was a renaissance of sorts of music, because despite my inherent desire to say everything new sucks, it’s simply not the case in this regard.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #7

#7. Drunken Lullabies - Flogging Molly

I've already described the gift this century that was Flogging Molly, and nothing has changed in the last six weeks on that front. They're still Irish, they still kick ass. But while Float was incredible on it's own, and even though it was more widely acclaimed by those toolbags we know as "Critics", it can't hold a (Bailey's scented) candle to Drunken Lullabies.

The title track kicks off the album itself and the rest is pretty much history. Less than a second after pressing “PLAY”, you’re treated to a heavy symphony of drums, horns, bass, bagpipes, you name it. It’s also one of those tunes that reaches you personally: “We find ourselves in the same old mess singing drunken lullabies”. That’s pretty much how my Saturday nights end. But while it sounds like a simply Irish drinking anthem, it’s anything but. It kinda asks a question that’s rarely asked about the troubles in Northern Ireland (or the Middle East, Pakistan, you name it):

What savior rests while on his cross we die

"Forgotten Freedom Burns"

Has the Shepard led his lambs astray

to the bigot and the gun?

Yep. Where’s your Messiah now? Enough of my soapbox though because the rest of the album is near-perfect. Not only do they cover what’s probably my favorite Irish standard: “The Rare Ould Times”, they don’t PC it up by avoiding some less than “acceptable” language by 21st Century standards the way I’ve heard other, lesser bands do so in recent years. Written decades ago (really, I have no idea when), the song’s as meaningful today as it was way back when. In a world of outsourcing, crumbling economies and infrastructure, nobody can really go “home” anymore. I’m a fan of progress, it does more good than harm, but sometimes, to put it bluntly, progress sucks.

The album also boasts one of the 65 or so songs that I want put on my funeral playlist: “If I Ever Leave This World Alive”. Don’t ask me why, but our own mortality fascinates me. Maybe it’s an Irish thing. Maybe it’s another unfortunate side affect of a Catholic upbringing. Maybe it’s cause I’ve pretty much come to the conclusion that when you’re done, you’re done. Finito, end of story cause I’m a control freak and don’t like not understanding things, so this explanation makes the most sense. Yet given that belief structure, I’m captivated by this pledge of post-mortem love and support from man to woman. What can I say; sometimes I’m a walking dichotomy.

Possibly my favorite song on the album is the rebellious anthem “What’s Left of the Flag”. I’m a sucker for songs about rebellion, in particular Irish ones. “Flag” has it all: the heavy instruments, the inspiring battle cries, and blatant insults hurled at the enemy. Side note: I’m not into “rebellion” hymns of the Confederacy though. Not in the least. It really chaps my ass that 150 years later I’ll occasionally hear “Dixie”, or that “The Night They Drove Ol’ Dixie Down” paints Sherman’s march as a borderline War Crime. Dude, you rebelled based of the principles of denying human rights (save me the “it’s not all about slavery” bullshit, I’ve heard it and you’re just whitewashing things. And Jim Crow ended any shadow of a doubt about that. Plus, we won.)

I could go on and on about each track but it’s all going to come back to the same underlying point: this album will kick your ass while making you think at the same time. And really, I can’t say that about anything else without copping to the use of illicit substances.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #8

Year is running out faster than Ronan Tynan at a Seder. Need to get back on the ball, still got a lot to do. For nobody's amusement other than my own of course.

#8. Hot Fuss - The Killers

There are a couple things in life that - regardless of how often I’m exposed to them, contemplate them, or experience them - I still can’t make up my mind on how I feel about them. Hummus is one of them. Emerill is another. Same with Tom Hanks and high-end vodka. You can also add the Killers to the mix.



Five years after first hearing them I still don’t know. Talented? Lucky? Overrated? Underappreciated? Manufactured? Original? I’m clear on two things however:


1. Their second album Sam’s Town was the most disappointing follow-up album in music history since Slave to the Grind.


2. It can only be classified as such a bomb because their debut album Hot Fuss was an instant classic, despite how overplayed it may have gotten at times.


I have to credit my wife with summing it up best: “These guys sound like they’re making a John Hughes movie soundtrack.” To some that may be an insult. But people are so easily insulted these days anyway so don’t put any credence into that. Decades later (ouch. old.) the old John Hughes movie tunes still resonate, and reappear in movie after movie to the point where a whole new generation’s been exposed to them, without ever having the joy of watching the Breakfast Club or St Elmo’s Fire. OK, tangent on the incredible ability of the late John Hughes to compliment his movies with a near perfect score is over.

From start to finish, Hot Fuss is eminently listenable (one would think all albums should be, but we all know that aint the case). Sure, a lot of it is catchy, but who cares because it’s also pretty real.


Who hasn’t had their Mr. Brightside moment? Either as Mr. Brightside himself, or his cheap two-timing slutty girlfriend on the verge of jerking off another dude as she’s being disrobed, or, as the other dude. I kinda like those anti-love songs that pull no punches about how fucked up relationships can be. Save me your “I Will Always Love You” or “Miss You Like Crazy” crap. Give me a “Brightside” or a “Say Goodbye” any day of the week. Or even Motley Crue’s “Your All I Need” (yeah, google the lyrics and find out how twisted I can be)


While the whole album has a distinct sound, it’s also pretty diverse. Lead singer Brandon Flowers (who I keep mistaking for a Steelers linebacker) tries a tad too hard to sound like Jim Morrison in the opening minute of “On Top” but that doesn’t last too long. “All These Things That I’ve Done” (Known for it’s repetitive made-for-Gatorade-and-Nike-commercials chorus of “I Got Soul But I’m Not a Soldier”) is one of the better songs cut this decade.

And then you have “Somebody Told Me”, which, honestly, I don’t know if it’s a “Lola” style homage to transvestites or not, so I’m not really going to get into it and make myself sound foolish. Don’t need anymore help in that department.


Some songs take more than a few listens to really get into (“Andy You’re a Star” comes to mind). And as always, the fact that it’s an album that can either be cranked for all to enjoy, or conversely be played as simple background music also makes an enticing argument for greatness. But there’s no greater compliment one could pay an album than to say that’s fully enjoyable from start to finish, and there aren’t many albums cut in the 00’s that met that mantra better than Hot Fuss.

Molly Ringwald, Rob Lowe, Anthony Michael Hall and the gang would be pleased.

My 30 Best Albums of the Decade: #9

Been a bit behind over the last week, in a funk because I realized too late that I really did shun "The Rising", insulting it at #10. But alas, I move on. Which I'm normally not very good at but promise to get better.

#9. Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not- Arctic Monkeys

The "new album" that started my renaissance of "new albums". I was living in a musical cave for some time in the earlier part of this decade. A pre-iTunes cave. Heck, I even used to wonder what the bloody point of an iPod was. I was that caveman besmirching the need for a wheel I guess. I had a CD player. I had all my classics. Why would I sit in front of a computer, with a 3 year lifespan, and put my entire catalog on it? The entire concept sounded foreign to me.  

5 years later and I vow to never, ever, under any circumstance doubt technological improvements without seeing for myself. Never again would I be the technological equivalent of George Wallace.

I had heard a lot of great things about these Brits but that didn't really impress me at the time. I had heard a lot of great things about Hillary Clinton from fellow democrats too and she turned out to be a shallow power-hungry troll without principle. But this album delivered. So much so that at the end of 2006, I ranked it higher than some works that have yet to be accounted for in this pointless little countdown.

There's nothing too deep or special about the album, which is just a pain in the ass to continue to retype, but to put it bluntly, it's fucking fun. That's it. No more, no less. The catchy "Mardy Bum" pretty much sums up the occasional nonsense that cohabitating couples deal with, but not in an Eminem-sense where violent rage and threats of assault are the common medium of expression. Perhaps Vampires Is a Bit Strong But does a great job of capturing the annoyance of dealing with, well, people. People who want to sell you shit. People who want to control your shit. People who want to own your shit. Fake Tales of San Francisco is a lovely ode to bullshit. And there's not enough of those.

The rest of the album touches upon the same basic premises of "You Suck, Just Let Me Be", without getting too deep or too preachy. And it moves at a quick enough pace that you can throw it on while entertaining and nobody's going to get caught up in any deep bullshit or wonder if your accusing them of time-burglary (the answer is likely yes).

Is there anything special or groundbreaking about the album as a whole? No, not really. Would many people rank it this high? Doubt it. But they suck, just let me be.

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: 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.