After a year of sharing and discussing new music, melophobe’s contributors reached some form of groupthink or shared aesthetic—at least half of our contributors voted for our top five albums, and those albums significantly surpassed the remaining fifteen. We also had our closest finish to-date, with our #1 album beating out #2 by two points. [Perhaps if our #2 artist paid attention to how our #1 artist transitions songs, it would’ve won.] It’s no surprise that most of these artists also played some of our favorite tours this year. In fact, contributors in Seattle, Portland, and Boston all considered our #1 artist the best live act of 2011.
A note on our method: 17 voters had 100 points each to distribute to a maximum of 15 albums, with a maximum of 15 points per album.
Here’s the summarized list:
20. Girls - Father, Son, Holy Ghost
19.-17. (3-way tie) The Decemberists - The King is Dead
19.-17. (3-way tie) Elzhi - Elmatic
19.-17. (3-way tie) Cut Copy - Zonoscope
16. Deer Tick - Divine Providence
15. Washed Out - Within and Without
14. The Kills - Blood Pressures
13. Dan Mangan - Oh Fortune
12. Radiohead - King of Limbs
11. The Weeknd - House of Balloons
10. St. Vincent - Strange Mercy
09. Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues
08. Jay-Z & Kanye West - Watch the Throne
07. Wu Lyf - Go Tell Fire to the Mountain
06. Shabazz Palaces - Black Up
05. Bon Iver - Bon Iver, Bon Iver
04. James Blake - James Blake
03. tUnE-yArDs - w h o k i l l
02. The Antlers - Burst Apart
01. M83 - Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming
Girls’ second record, Father, Son, Holy Ghost, kicks off dabbling in the waning surf rock trend without going–forgive the term–overboard. From there, it travels through early ‘90s indie rock nostalgia and low-fi charm on tracks like “Saying I Love You” and “Forgiveness,” before ending on a somber breakup song. With this progression, it’s a prime album to blast out of your speakers while lying on a towel in the sunshine, or when you’re dreaming of summer when caught in a November downpour. - Caitlin Lilly
For many, the Decemberists have never fully realized the promise of 2002’s Castaways and Cutouts. There is much to like about their debut full-length, but with each album that followed, it became increasingly clear that the Decemberists took the wrong lessons from its success, leaving behind the hauntingly arranged folk that emphasized smart storytelling and rich detail for self-indulgent literacy and overwrought concept records.
By The Hazards of Love, the Decemberists’ songs had grown so purple and so precious that Castaways and Cutouts seemed like it had been written by a different band altogether. Thankfully, The King is Dead finally excises the sprawling mess of pretension that had come to burden their material and reclaims the musical territory the band initially staked out in 2002. While some who confuse that mess with ambition and artfulness will unfairly criticize The King is Dead, it’s a strong, solid record of Americana that deftly pays homage to the unseen power of the picket fence while creating something distinct and vibrant.
Nearly ten years after Castaways and Cutouts, the Decemberists have finally realized its potential. Their erstwhile ascendancy to notoriety and the maturity of their songwriting may make that realization seem less exciting to those preoccupied with searching for the next big thing, but in going back to what initially made them interesting rather than providing ever more of what people had come to expect, they have managed to create their best and boldest record to date. - Daniel Couch
As I noted in my earlier praise for Elmatic, Elzhi endeavored to refashion hip-hop’s holy grail, Nas’ Illmatic, in his own mold. Incredibly, he succeeds. Unlike the other hip-hop records on this list, Elmatic does not seek to break new sonic territory (Shabazz Palaces - Black Up ) or create arena-filling jams for the masses (Jay-Z and Kanye West - Watch the Throne ). Instead, he has created the purest hip-hop album of the year, one with lyrics so sharp and beats so refined, that it’s easy to forget about the classic that spawned it. - Joshua Bean
Zonoscope received only an above-average rating in our 50-word review section, but as time passes, Cut Copy’s homage to dance and pop music remains a mainstay across demographics. “Need You Now,” peppered with trilling keyboards and fist-pumping drums, is a perfect introduction to the aesthetic of their musical landscape. And as you travel from the tribal percussion of “Blink and You’ll Miss a Revolution” to the jazzy rhythm guitar of “Hanging Onto Every Heartbeat,” the world dissolves and delivers you to their perspective of Utopian groovin’. - Danielle Fowler
It would be hard for me to say something about Deer Tick that hasn’t already been said again and again and again on our site, so we’ll keep this one brief.
Divine Providence, the Rhode Island band’s fourth official full-length release, is, as the band themselves state: “raw, loud, heartfelt, and completely uninterested in whatever the hell the rest of the music industry is up to.” Party anthems, think pieces, JonBenét Ramsey references, psycho-killer ditties and Paul-Westerberg-penned cigarette tributes: it’s all in there and it’s all out there, for you to love or hate. And I really don’t think they care which one you do, because they’re having a damn good time.
Those looking for something similar to previous Deer Tick releases will probably be sorely disappointed. The only thing this album has in common with the others is that it’s exactly what the band felt like playing at that moment. Expecting something of Deer Tick, be it how they act or the kind of music they play, is probably accountable for some of the bad reviews for this record. This is a musical group you don’t want to pin down. Grab ahold and go for the ride. I promise it will be entertaining to say the least.
There’s no substitute for seeing Deer Tick live, but this album is as close as you can get without paying too much for a PBR. Put the album on, grab a bunch of friends, pour some beer on yourself, break a few things, throw your fists in the air, and dance around screaming until you’re hoarse. It’ll almost feel like you were there. Almost, but not quite. - Steve Benoit
Is Ernest Greene’s Washed Out just a sexier version of Owl City, another basement singer/producer who strikes myspace gold? You might dismiss it as chillwave or synth-snooze, but Washed Out works atmospheric vocals and looped keyboards towards catharsis worthy of a Camus novella. There are blissfully bright moments that send your soul soaring upwards, as on the sparkly existential path taken by “Amor Fati.” Yet the fateful optimism destructs on “You and I,” where lovers sift through the shards of a relationship. Greene offers, “Under untrue circumstances, I forget all of your vain pretenses” to describe a serious communication meltdown. This Sturm und Drang makes for moments of discomfort, a feeling of too much information. The cover art signals as much, as we can’t fully tell if the couple is reaching pain or pleasure from their embrace. While many might just chill to Within and Without, there’s an undercurrent of stark emotion that makes for a slightly voyeuristic experience. And you can’t stop listening. - Ian Doreian
Jamie Hince and Allison Mosshart have always known how to instigate sex with their often slow and sensual blues rock. But with Blood Pressures, they demand the sex be had, with hot, pounding rhythm and lustful, thumping beats. A touch of punk snarl comes slithering out of both Mosshart’s voice and Hince’s mean guitar as the duo delivers their best record to date. Those few times the album stops for a breather, to give us a more lonesome ballad, it comes charging back with little abandon, acting almost ashamed it let you see its emotional side. From start to finish, The Kills hammer out a delicious medley of danceable tunes, and in the closing “Pots and Pans,” they slow things down to powerfully remind us that they’ll never lose their sultry signature sound--a sound no other band has come close to replicating. - Nicci Boots
One minute and eight seconds. That’s about how long it took for Canadian troubadour Dan Mangan’s third full-length release, Oh, Fortune, to get its foot in the door of my musical brain and heart. Give the first track ("About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All") a listen, and you’ll see why. It pushes off with Wilco-ish noise, moves gracefully into strings and poetic lyrics, and climactically swells up into a grandiose, orchestral blossom. Don’t let this verbose, hyperbolic description stop you from listening to this album. Honestly, I just don’t know how else to say it.
Lyrics run from the dizzyingly self-reflective ("where did I go? / what am I doing? / what time is it? / have I always been filled with questions?"), to broader, societal statements ("people don’t know what they want / they just know they really want it"), to just plain old poetic ("don’t count the feathers / just count the wings / everyday counting"). And each lyric is accompanied by just the right complement of strings, brass, woodwinds, foot-stomping, and, when needed, throat-rattling soul.
Brandishing a sound reminiscent of first-run Mumford and Sons, Wilco, and maybe even some Grizzly Bear, Oh Fortune is immediately digestible. Those looking for a new sound probably won’t get much out of this album, but those looking for something familiar done really fucking well have just hit the jackpot. Best consumed with 41 minutes of solitude, a good pair of headphones, and a pollutant of choice. - Steve Benoit
King of Limbs is largely an electronic album, though it does not shy from audio samples of the wind, nor from flugelhorn arrangements or the sneaky swell of orchestral strings. The album runs for thirty-seven minutes. It’s long enough to lodge in your brain, or short enough to take another listen. Either way, it’s a cerebral treat, featuring meditative songs interlaced with subtle musical ideas and polyrhythmic clacks and bloops. The album is in standard Radiohead form, retaining a signature sound and adhering loosely to the contemporary musical soundscape, while pushing its boundaries at every turn. - Ben Piper
Yes, you may feel dirty after listening. Yes, several of the indie samples border on pandering. However, once you enter Abel Terfaye’s lusty, cocaine-filled House of Balloons, it simply sounds too good to leave. Not that you’d want to necessarily become a permanent resident in this House; the shit that goes down there isn’t the polished, bloated boasts of Top 40 R&B. It’s filled with hurt, debauchery, and an unending sense of numbness. Terfaye tells his stories with sincere yearning and confidence, wrapped in heavy, reverb-drenched haze. There is no other album in 2011 as drenched in sensuality and atmosphere as The Weeknd’s House of Balloons. It not only makes for a great R&B album, but also for one that lingers in your consciousness long after the record stops. Like much of its subject matter, House of Balloons will leave you strung out and craving more. - Joshua Bean
Strange Mercy grabs you by the goolies with its scrupulously observed sound: fuzzed out guitars fooling with gauzy keys on a pristine bed of roofied rhythms–as if Grizzly Bear grew a pair, or three. But being ensorcelled is not the same as falling in love (just ask Tilda Swinton), and Annie Clark’s Ice Queen may or may not float your boat. The album’s drama lies in the arctic pursuit of fissures in the frigidity, qv. “Surgeon,” which pulses beneath unparted permafrost: the closest Clark comes to cracking is skipping a breathless octave, buoyed by blood-in-the-water guitar. “Dilettante,” on the album’s still more immobile second half, barely sports a fracture in its frozen facade.
Annie Clark is not interested in seduction, you see. If her voice is a shade less authoritarian than her guitar, it is solely by an act of will, and perhaps of mercy. When, on the title track, she brandishes her guitar like a well-balanced chainsaw and sings, “If I ever meet that dirty policeman / Who roughed you up / No I, I don’t know what,” you think Jerry Sandusky, if you ever see Annie Clark coming, run. She will fuck you up. - Andrew Iliff
The lyric, “If I had an orchard / I’d work ‘til I’m sore” from the title track says a lot about this album; it captures at once the longing for the unattainable and the thrill of the pursuit thereof. Also, these guys must love apples. Helplessness Blues is markedly less poppy than their debut. This time, the focus is on colorful arrangements, tastefully adorned with soaring violin lines and triumphant swells of brass. The lavish orchestration serves primarily as a foundation, save a few spots, including the bit in “The Shrine/An Argument” where dueling saxes squawk like rabid geese. As always, Robin Pecknold sings lyrics that make you sit up and listen, and thanks to some masterful production, trademark harmonies washed in reverb and varied layers of guitar tracks round out a massive folk sound on a terrific sophomore release. - Ben Piper
Like 2010’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, Watch the Throne divided the melophobe crew into two camps. And also like last year, Kanye’s crass, grating flow was a deciding factor—either you love it or hate it. But although both rappers hope their children don’t repeat their mistakes (see “New Day”), there are few apologies here. Jay-Z and Kanye have fully embraced the absurdity of fame, money, and debauchery. Coke-filled nights coupled with philosophical musings, Rolodexes coupled with fish fillet: it’s all meaningless. “What’s 50 grand to a mothafucka like me / Can you please remind me?” They’ve asked themselves this question 168 times during the Watch the Throne tour, and they still don’t have the answer. - Beth Freeman Doreian
Civilized, my ass. The same fuck-fight-eat-seek model that has been driving us since we lived in caves is still what motivates us as human beings. There is no use denying it, and WU LYF never tries to. On Go Tell Fire to the Mountain, they court their primal selves as if their very salvation in this life depended on it. They howl and stomp and extend the fold to new members with every ounce of spirit they can muster. This is what it would sound like if cavemen held church services. This is the feeling punk still wished it had. Through organ hums and lush, reverberating notes, you find power and joy from words that are nearly impossible to understand. But somehow you know exactly where they came from. They tap into somewhere deep, somewhere primitive and unconscious. Which is why their shows are full of untamed people just howling back sounds in whatever form of syllables they feel are right. Some people call this place your lizard brain. Others call it your id. I call it the muse behind the most exciting collection of songs we’ve seen in years. Consider this your wake-up call. - Colin McLaughlin
Nothing else sounds like Shabazz Palaces, and in 2011 you’d be hard pressed to find anything that sounded better. As Palaceer Lazaro, Ishmael Butler takes his flow (instantly recognizable from his days in Digable Planets) and sends it to another galaxy. The result is something both hypnotically organic and wildly futuristic. It’s a masterpiece of dissonance. Challenging enough to become more satisfying on each listen, but primal enough that you can still nod your head. - Liana Joubert
Setting aside the New Artist label currently being bandied about by the Recording Academy (get it together, Grammys), Bon Iver’s latest isn’t another For Emma, Forever Ago. And it isn’t different enough for me to claim that it’s a new start, or beyond requiring a comparison. Rather, it is an excellent, enchanting, engaging sophomore LP from Justin Vernon.
Not as haunting or as memorable as the debut, Bon Iver nonetheless presents a tight package of lilting melodies and intertwining harmonies, with top tracks on par with those from For Emma. “Holocene” leads the pack with its pulsing repetitions; “Beth/Rest” is a surprising change in form, replete with “We Are the World”-style instrumentals and an almost Kenny-Loggins-like feel throughout. The album rewards multiple listens, in headphones especially. It’s been months and months (miles and miles), and I’m still thinking it’ll be yet another damn Good Winter with Bon Iver to keep us warm. - Ari Sommer
More than a decade after its controversial breakthrough in the music industry, Auto-Tune has its first masterpiece. James Blake’s self-titled debut is spare, understated, and ultimately an astounding achievement. Blake’s digitally-enhanced voice soars like that of a gospel singer, and one is simply carried away by the vision and ingenuity of a man who has taken a once-derided technology and put it to its purest creative expression to date. Though not lacking in singles–the introspective “Wilhelm Scream,” the “Lindisfarne” suite, the darkly poppy “Limit to Your Love”–the album is a cerebral affair, unfolding slowly in an essential progression from start to finish. It can be challenging, and many will not have the patience for the repeated listens over which it gradually reveals its beauty. For all that, however, James Blake may prove over time to be the most significant release of the year. - Jarrod Dunham
w h o k i l l is the loose, cathartic yawp of a brilliant musician emboldened by the success of a quirky debut. Merrill Garbus makes the jump from low to high fidelity, expanding her already expansive sonic spectrum without sacrificing any ethos. Indeed, the increased production value on w h o k i l l serves as a magnifying glass for tUnE-yArDs’ mesmerizing complexity. This is not an album that leaves you wanting; it’s an album that leaves you buzzing. Raw, open-throat melodies mix with belching brass and layered percussion, topped by challenging (and catchy-as-hell) lyrics. It’s a rhythmic, clattering beast that, by all counts, should burst at the seams. Instead it blows your mind. - Chris Barth
Although it’s fair to listen to an album with expectations, sometimes certain expectations are not okay. After Hospice, my favorite album (yes, ever), I listened to The Antlers’ Burst Apart with the irrational expectation of a concept album, the expectation that I’d cry twice (or choke up four times), and that there would be some 8+ minute jams. Needless to say, the first go around, I was disappointed. Where are my crescendos? Why is there anything that breaks the mold of dark, broody atmosphere? And where is my heavy subject matter? The Antlers’ refusal to be pigeonholed into another Hospice directly paralleled my refusal to like anything new. And that was my own problem. However, this refusal to be lumped into the same “sad, concept album” realm for the rest of their career is what led to the formation of a truly great album. No concept? No problem. Each song encapsulates a concept or story in itself. Take the frustration of “Every Night my Teeth are Falling Out” or the slow creep of “No Widows.” The showcase of Peter Silberman’s falsetto comes to the forefront of many a song. The keyboards aren’t tied to the same music-box sounds, breaking out into the sawtooth synth of “French Exit.” I could go on! Look at the gut-wrenching lyrical and musical content of “Putting the Dog to Sleep.” I should’ve seen all of these from the beginning. I was just too stubborn. - Michael Zonenashvili
As Riley so aptly put in melophobe’s Top 10 Best Electronic Albums list, “In an era of throwaway digital singles, here is an album.” From start to finish (and with a needed intermission between disks), Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming tricks you into believing you’re reading an epic tale of great meaning. But really, Anthony Gonzalez simply threw together a collection of great dance songs—full of rad, throwback guitars, synths, and saxophone—in a loose, greatly appreciated narrative structure. Gonzalez takes the listener through waves of climax and rest by intermixing singles with transitional pieces—sometimes atmospheric and tone-setting (“When Will You Come Home?”) and sometimes building and salient (“Another Wave from You”). You easily get lost in the story, but when it’s over, you have no idea what you just read. So although we won’t claim Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming is groundbreaking or even innovative, no 2011 album made us as happy. - Beth Freeman Doreian
Two songs go in, one comes out. Pick a side.
Epic cassette tape of We are children EP . I want them , hungrily speaking. I did comment here now, shared it on tweet and liked on facebook. How am I going to receive my copy? Retford would be very exciting if this event will be announced publicly.
by Essie Mortimer on Wed Feb 22, 2012 at 10.57 pm from the entry: Win a Tribes 10" and Demo Casette!
Lovely video so far for me, I have been looking for this. Anomie Belle is my favorite feat. Thanks!
by Lisa Ana on Wed Feb 22, 2012 at 10.37 am from the entry: PREMIERE: Anomie Belle feat. Mr. Lif - "Machine"
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by rittaarier on Tue Feb 21, 2012 at 12.03 am from the entry: Ex-Wilco member sues Wilco
Found killer tickets at http://FrontRowTickets.com seriously incredible!
by Layla on Wed Feb 15, 2012 at 06.09 pm from the entry: The Lighthouse And The Whaler - Mercury Lounge (New York, NY; Feb 6, 2012)
Ankara Travestileri thank you admin ;)
by Ankara Travestileri on Mon Feb 13, 2012 at 08.42 pm from the entry: Drake, Lil' Wayne, Kanye and Eminem Slay Track For Lebron
the family that shoots/writes together…
well done!
by Ian on Fri Feb 10, 2012 at 05.27 pm from the entry: Laura Gibson + Breathe Owl Breathe + Mike Midlo - Mississippi Studios (Portland, OR; Feb. 3, 2012)
P.S. I was at a 21+ venue and everyone there was over the age of 21 right, and everyone I mean EVERYONE in the room was talking really loud and ignoring poor Benoit Pioulard who was pouring his heart and soul out on stage.
by Sophie on Fri Feb 10, 2012 at 04.02 am from the entry: Pros & Cons of Letting Youth Invade Portland's Music Venues
Please check out signer/songwriter “Kramies” and his new EP “The European”
http://music.hiddenshoal.com/archive/kramies-the-european-ep-official-release/