My Ten Favorite Records of 2002

Perhaps I've found other interests (unlikely), or perhaps I've become more discriminating in my purchases (similarly unlikely) or perhaps I've just become less cool (completely likely), but, in strict terms of the actual amount of albums purchased, 2002 was a down year for me. By my count, I only purchased 16 'new' albums. By 'new,' I mean 'the songs were first officially released this year.' But it was, at least for me, a 'quality-not-quantity' kind of year. The top four records on my yearly list are probably top 25 on my all-time collection, and all are albums that I find myself revisiting constantly, which is a good thing. More importantly, I didn't buy an album that I think sucks. So with that, my favorite records of 2002:

You'd be hard-pressed to find a more appropriate album title on any other release this year. A stunning debut, this record is the opposite of the garage rock revival that's apparently happened: it's heart-on-the-sleeve emotional, it's lush, it's bombastic, vocalist Paul Banks is both understandable and literate, and it's not been hopelessly promoted to the masses. A debut that promises greater things down the line, we hope. And get this: Matador's cool again.

There's not enough angry music in my collection. I'm generally not an angry guy, but sometimes I feel the need to, you know, yell. It's so helpful when I find out that there are guys who feel the same way. Source Tags and Codes is one of those rare albums that bludgeons you with its anger, but then helps you up with its sheer intensity and beauty. Without a doubt, the only album that will ever have me singing, no screaming, the response portion of the couplet: "What is forgiveness / It's just a dream!"

We're in an era of bombastic music. [See the above two entries.] On Kill the Moonlight, Britt Daniel most certainly did not go with the flow. Opener "Small Stakes" has a single repeating note as its only instrumentation for the first two minutes. "Paper Tiger" is an exercise in minimalism. It's sparse. It's beautiful. It's the best album Spoon's produced. It makes you smile. And it's got Britt Daniel beat-boxing.

Like Spoon's album, Everyone is as much about quietness as it is about the rock. The band uses all the key instruments--guitar, bass, piano--tastefully, and tosses in an occassional studio trick or two. Everyone also marks the arrival of the frontman with the coolest name since Black Francis: Hamilton Leithauser, whose vocals on "We've Been Had" make that song the second best composition of the year. [I'll mention the first in a moment.]

It's not Last Splash. Get over it. That was nine years, a Kelley Deal prison term, and about 6,500 packs of cigarettes (I'm guessing Kim Deal's on a 2-pack-a-day habit) ago. And so while she can't hit the soaring high notes she got on "Divine Hammer" (or even the levels she hit on the Amps' "Pacer"), Kim's turned a weakness into a strength. "Off You" and "Forced to Drive" are slow, slow burns, and "Huffer" is this record's "Cannonball." Give me the eerie harmonies of the Deal sisters over, well, anyone's.

Purchased because of one strong review and a similar recommendation, Rabbit Songs is certainly this year's biggest surprise for me. A band that I know next to nothing about, and a band for whom touring is probably an impossibility (this isn't Bright Eyes), Hem mixes simple, analog recording techniques with an occasional 18-piece orchestra. Sally Ellyson, in her first singing gig, sounds like Joni Mitchell. Traditional American music. No frills. Superb. (Perhaps a 2001 release, but it's finally been distributed.)

Return to form? Nope. That was 2001's Isolation Drills. UTAC is more than a return to form, it's the first time since 1995's Alien Lanes that Robert Pollard (performing under the GbV moniker) has raised the bar. Under the Bushes, Under the Stars and Mag Earwhig! were fine releases, but this release is truly a step forward. It's got all the trappings of a great GbV record: There's the classic pop song ("Cheyenne"), the too-short acoustic ditty ("Zap"), the should've-been-a-hit rocker ("Eureka Signs") and the memorable closer ("Father Sgt. Christmas Card"). For the first time, Pollard successfully creates a new-prog classic, album centerpiece "Storm Vibrations." And get this: Matador's cool again.

Brendan Benson's got an innate sense for songcraft. Not many frills here, just a cycle of classic pop songs. "Folksinger," "Life in the D," and "You're Quiet" are perhaps the best examples on the record. Recorded and partially co-written with another underappreciated songsmith, Jason Falkner, LaPalco ranks as one of the easiest, most fun, listens of the year. And Jack White digs it.

To these ears anyway, the sound of trying too hard (at times, like on "Poor Places"). Jeff Tweedy (and Jay Bennett) hit it perfectly on 1999's Summer Teeth, pop songs with upbeat and intricate instrumental tracks that belied the melancholy lyrics. I think Tweedy got caught up in trying to make something experimental and great here - he didn't just let it flow. Yet it's hard to deny the greatness of tracks such as the insanely catchy "Heavy Metal Drummer" or the downbeat "Ashes of American Flags." The album's success is a nice story, and when it works, it really works. See: "Reservations" and song of the year "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart."

How do you follow one of the most emotional and groundbreaking records of the 90's, 1999's The Soft Bulletin? By replacing the emotional sincerity of that album with either (a) a robot story or (b) cliches I came up with in seventh grade, and adding silly synth syncopations and screaming. Yoshimi is a nice effort, it's just not a tremendous work. I sort of hoped for more. Soft Bulletin, however, didn't get an endorsement deal.

"I was out late the other night. / Fear and whiskey kept me going." And so begins 1985's Fear and Whiskey, reissued this year by Quarterstick. You might be familiar with Streets, the British MC who this year took hip-hop from the U.S. and made it his own? Well, this is an example of a host of Brits taking Americana and one-upping its creators. One of the genre's greatest accomplishments.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's self-titled debut was one of the best records of 2001, and every single review I read mentioned JAMC. Needless to say, I was excited when I heard about this Rhino-issued compilation. Shoegazey, but it rocks. "Head On" and "Some Candy Talking" are classic, classic tracks. For me, a band that is worthy of further discovery.

Second release from Bob Pollard and Tobin Sprout. I could do without the four minutes of washing machine noise. But "Forever Since" is sweet.

A nice surprise after the disappointment of their previous release, The Winter is Coming.

Pleasant, poppy, catchy. GbV's Bob Pollard and Superchunk's Mac McCaughan. "Red Hot Halos," indeed.

Basically Modest Mouse's Isaac Brock fronting Califone. I like it better with Tim Rutili on the mic.

Better than The Green Album, but nowhere near Pinkerton or their debut. "Keep Fishin'" is the best video of the year.

I bought this the say day that I bought Neko Case's 2000 release, Furnace Room Lullabye, which captured me immediately. All I can tell you about Impasse is that the liner notes are real pretty. Buckner's a talent.

:: RedHotHalos ::

My Ten Favorite Records of 2002