The Top 10 Albums of the Year

1 - Radiohead IN RAINBOWS

[self-released]

That “Down is the New Up” was one of the songs pushed off of In Rainbows is testament to Radiohead’s classicist stance on the album as a cohesive unit of work, even as the distribution method changes with the times. So it’s somewhat ironic that for all of its apparently painstaking sequencing, In Rainbows is, as its title might imply, a spectrum of seemingly independent creations—one that houses old permutations of the band’s TV-fed paranoia (“Bodysnatchers,” “Videotape”) and at times brazen new shades yet unseen (the prickly “Faust Arp” or the bona fide soul of “House of Cards”). It may not be as airtight as Kid A, but the beauty of it lies in this inclusive quality that simultaneously sums up the band’s post-OK Computer era while pointing to an exciting future. Does it contradict itself? Surely, but it contains multitudes.

Sean P. Manning

2 - Arcade Fire NEON BIBLE

[Merge]

We’ve got some seriously urgent drums, a ghostly choir howling, and Win Butler bellowing over his orchestra: “Let’s go! Don’t know where we’re going!”

There are many moments of catharsis on Neon Bible, but that one, barreling towards the finish line of “No Cars Go,” really gets at what we love about the Arcade Fire. They’ve got the decency to admit they have no idea what’s coming next, and the bravery to run full-tilt into it anyways.

And they get us. They know how desperately we long for the passion and human connection that’s fleeting in our daily grind. They understand, intellectually and emotionally, how identical pain and hope look.

How does a group go from the Bottom of the Hill to being maybe the Biggest Rock Band in the World in less than three years? They run really hard in the dark.

Robert Bergin

3 - LCD Soundystem SOUND OF SILVER

[DFA]

James Murphy, until recently, had been content with starting the party. Armed with his veritable arsenal of handclaps, cowbells and vintage synth tones, his debut as LCD Soundsystem was a front-to-back party destroyer, with silly jams like “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House” heading straight for the dance floor.

It’s not much of a surprise, then, that Sound of Silver sounds like an album recorded the day after such a party. Murphy’s vocals seem nostalgic and weary, hungover but still looking to head out again.

The elegiac “Someone Great” and “All My Friends” are the centerpieces, drawing on Murphy’s usual influences (’80s indie, disco, hipsterdom) to make something evocative and powerful. There are still dance jams, to be sure, but it’s the moments of machine music for the morning after where Sound of Silver really shines.

Tyler McCauley

4 - The White Stripes ICKY THUMP

[Warner Bros.]

Nothing says fierce like low-fidelity sound, especially when it amplifies the raw voices and unruly instrumentation of the White Stripes.

Icky Thump feeds the signature fire of the duo’s indie rock monopoly while exuding an air of refinement (in the form of pipes, organs, and horns). Still, Jack White lets his guitar do most of the wailing, as on “300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues”. And Meg scores with her her delicate appearances in “St Andrew” and “Rag & Bone.” Case in point: the Stripes are solid yet again.

Stefanie Lee

5 - Panda Bear PERSON PITCH

[Paw Tracks]

It’s right there in the title—this album is how people should live.

Person Pitch isn’t just an echoing pop masterpiece drenched in sun and set in delicate soft focus. Those lyrics are much more complex than they initially sound, but the essence is an appeal to something mature enough to draw inward while maintaining a care for what’s outside of you. Panda Bear’s ideas are perfectly reflected in each song, and that’s a testament not just to his ability as a musician, but also to the spiritual relevance his work carries. Person Pitch has a soul that’s gentle and strong.

Robert Bergin

6 - PJ Harvey WHITE CHALK

[Island]

What do you do when you’ve already proven yourself to be one of the biggest badasses to ever play electric guitar in stilettos? Well, you teach yourself the piano, put on an antique dress, and fashion yourself into a disturbing and totally original princess of darkness.

PJ Harvey’s trademark moan oozes sinister vulnerability that sinks its claws in, and (fortunately) never gets comfortable to listen to. Nothing on White Chalk sounds like what Harvey has done before, and it will haunt you like the music your last nightmare made. Your last incredibly hot nightmare, that is.

Ariel Toft

7 - Deerhoof FRIEND OPPORTUNITY

[Kill Rock Stars]

You don’t know it, but right now, you’re taking Deerhoof for granted. The San Francisco band are continually sold short as art-rock weirdos, despite their ability to kick out excellent albums every other year. Friend Opportunity, though, will inevitably get shrifted on many a year-end list in ’07, remembered as a pretty-good album released back in January. But with songs like the propulsive “Perfect Me” and the marching-band tropicalia of “+81,” it’s worth taking time and giving thanks to the band that continues to be daring, small, and weird—even if we do take them for granted.

Tyler McCauley

8 - The National BOXER

[Beggars Banquet]

According to iTunes, I have 412 plays for the tracks on Boxer, and yet it only gets more compelling with each listen. Matt Berninger’s magnetic baritone, the (yes) combative drumming and an unostentatious attention to detail combine to make it a remarkably cohesive, tightly composed album. Its pervasive sense of brooding mystery is best captured by the suspicion in “Ada” that perhaps “everything counts a little more than we think.” No other album released this year is as astonishingly poetic, nor lends itself to obsessive listening quite as well.

Lisa Xu

9 - Animal Collective STRAWBERRY JAM

[Domino]

Riding a bike “no hands” feels counter-intuitive, even though it is in total compliance with the laws of physics. But forget rotational inertia and vertical equilibrium—it takes bravery to let go of the handlebars. Strawberry Jam is the audio equivalent of handless riding. The band allowed their sound of wide-eyed wonderment to resonate more deeply than on previous albums. “Sometimes all I want’s one favorite song” sings Avey Tare on “Cuckoo,” and here he has nine of them; nine fully realized testaments to how scary, funny, weird and amazing it is to be alive.

Jonathon Atkinson

10 - M.I.A. KALA

[Interscope]

Since 2005’s Arular, M.I.A. seems expressly more interested in “Putting people on a map/That never seen a map.” Or at least Kala suggests so, emphasizing the unheard voices of the non-western world and offering a less immediately palatable sound (see: chicken squawks, the drone of “$20,” etc.).

But even if it’s less club-ready than its predecessor, the album’s politics and music intersect in ways that make Kala important not just for the political and career trajectory of M.I.A., but for anyone listening.

Evan Winchester

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