2010: Top Albums, Awards, Angst

Folks, we're back. To make a long story short, the fireside chats got a little out of hand during the Stephen Malkmus installment. A spark landed on his plaid, which was shockingly flammable and, just like that, we had ourselves a bit of situation. Steve stormed out, and once word about his "episode" circulated throughout the indie rock ranks we couldn't get any more guests to stop by our fireside.

Fine by us. We were running out of books to burn to keep the blaze going.

However, a little setback like second degree burns won't discourage us; we'll still keep on posting occasionally with or without Malkmus, throwing the starving masses a few scraps of meat to satisfy their appetites.

This time around, it's our:

BEST OF 2010!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


My goodness, was 2010 a year for music. Our favorite year since 2005, filled with hidden gems and long-awaited follow-ups that didn't disappoint. However, we'd like to take a moment to hand out awards to a few bands that made us less than proud this past year.


First off is Interpol, winning our:

"RIP DEAR FRIEND" AWARD



This year, the RIP Dear Friend award goes to the boys in black, greatly admired by us folks at Mitchfork for Turn on the Bright Lights, slightly less for Antics, and then, yes, even less for Our Love to Admire.

Now, in 2010 they give us a self-titled album that was released shortly before bassist Carlos D (guy with the fine stache) left the band. Our guess is Carlos left because he realized what the rest of the world has learned since Interpol landed-- the band is creatively exhausted.

And will most likely break up anyway not long after they're done touring for this album. That, combined with how Interpol isn't a "bad" album, just one which shows they're further than ever from reclaiming their initial post-punk magic, means we won't rip on NYC's finest. They've earned their place in history with one of our favorite albums of all time, and their last show in Boston this year was really solid (despite lacking Carlos and his gun holster). Plus, lead singer Paul Banks told us we were their best crowd on the tour. He wouldn't lie, would he?

We will bid them a fond adieu though. Time to hang it up boys. You've done your part reviving post-punk, giving us at Mitchfork a chance to get into Joy Division and the rest. Take that vacation, and reunite when the world is again mired in a Limp Bizkit/Korn phase. We look forward to seeing you, sharply dressed as always.


Next comes The Wrens, recipients of our:

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST JUST RELEASE ANOTHER GODDAMN ALBUM ALREADY" AWARD


Hey look, it's a rare find! Two Wrens found in what should be their natural habitat, THE STUDIO. RECORDING NEW MUSIC. We get it, you guys have lives outside of the music, jobs and families, which is why it's been 7 years since The Meadowlands. But after a certain point, come on. We're not picky-- any 10 songs will do. Just give us something, because we're huge fans and we're not going to patiently sit by as your kids go to college and your hips get replaced but no new music emerges from Camp Wrens.

Look, if friend of Mitchfork Dave Mancinelli can clear time out of his busy schedule (typically filled with counting ceiling tiles and plotting the downfall of one Jake Grindal) to record an album, then you guys can get your shit together. Maybe in 2011? Or else you'll win this award again. And you don't want that. No, you certainly do not...


Finally, to Best Coast goes the:


"THE HYPE MACHINE STRIKES AGAIN" AWARD


See that pretty young lady up there holding the fluffy cat? That's Bethany, and she's Best Coast. Sadly, and maybe through no desire of her own (maybe she wanted to play largely uninspired lo-fi music in obscurity forever), she was snapped up by the hype machine in 2009-2010. Fueled by a few nice singles, including the really really good "Boyfriend", Bethany gained a lot of internet traction and, like many bands before her (Vampire Weekend, Voxtrot, Wavves, etc) she released her first LP after many months of accompanying build up. Thing is, that album really isn't too good. It took a few listens for us to realize it, but it's not. It's all same-sounding tunes with some honest to goodness dumb lyrics that aren't validated by anything she's doing musically. Nothing really offensive, but nothing stands out, outside of "Boyfriend", as worthy of any praise. And we're pretty sick and tired here of these surfer acts getting more love than they deserve just because they have a sunny atmosphere, bad production values and sound like they could have made their album in an afternoon. We can't help feel like Crazy For You is aspiring to be something like Weezer's Blue Album, but it's not even in the same ballpark.

Does this mean Bethany and her crew are crap? Nah. They're ok, but it's good to take a jab at internet hype every now and again. As opposed to non-internet hype, like the fliers we're seeing around town for that cat Bethany is holding. Jeez, sure hope Whiskers is ok. Also, if the hype machine wants to set its sights on Mitchfork-- please do. We've been waiting for our chance to have the slightest excuse to be insufferable douches. Give us that chance.


Ok, so now that the demons have been exorcised, let's get down to why 2010 was such a great start to the new decade.

Without FURTHER ADO, our top 10, plus an honorable mention. We'll try to keep the descriptions short and functional, just like Squires' s donger.


HONORABLE MENTION!

Sufjan Stevens, The Age of Adz
Best Track: "Vesuvius"

Back about this time last year, we predicted Sufjan was up to something. And gosh darnit, we were right. More right than we knew, because The Age of Adz is certainly something.

At times, it's something amazing. At others, it's something frustrating. Occasionally, it's just something that we can't quite describe but still want to listen to again.

It's Sufjan spreading his wings, shooting for the moon and almost making it. "Impossible Soul", the 25 minute closer, pretty much encapsulates the entire album's issues. It's a song that'll get you so fired up (and succeeded in fine fashion at his Boston show), but it'll also put you to sleep (no joke, we actually napped from roughly minute 7 to minute 10). It's too much, but you also have a hard time wanting it to be anything but, because the greatness is a byproduct of that same excess.

In conclusion, definitely an album worth listening to repeatedly, but let's just say we're already ready for another album where Sufjan streamlines his sonic journey a bit.


#10!

Phantogram, Eyelid Movies
Best Track: "Mouthful of Diamonds"




First, a shout-out to John Richards, aka John in the Morning, one of Mitchfork's musical idols. We don't hear John anymore at our new job because our computer has sound issues, but this was one of the last albums the pride of KEXP Seattle turned us on to. Thankfully, we know that friend of Mitchfork Von Hann will keep us in the loop regarding all the latest music being played by John from 9am-1pm every weekday if we would just ask, but we're shy.

Anyways, Phantogram. Frontloaded, but those first couple of songs ("Mouthful of Diamonds", "When I'm Small") especially are just so good. And while it might climax early, the electropop goodness remains throughout. Fragile vocals paired with beats that can work in the bedroom (not like that--like, chilling on your bed. Ok, that too) or the dance floor, Eyelid Movies is solid stuff. Even better-- it's only these guys' debut (and one of only two debut albums on this list), meaning there's plenty to look forward to in the future.


#9!


Tokyo Police Club, Champ
Best Track: "End of a Spark"




Tokyo Police Club was also swallowed up by the Hype Machine at a young age (they're still all under 25) during the build up to their 2008 debut Elephant Shell, but a lot of that hype was deserved. There were so many great things going on that album, it just got a little claustrophobic now and again. Now though, they're giving these songs a little more room to breathe, creating a more expansive sound that's still as propulsive as ever. Plus, a lot of their songs fixate on lost youth, and if you know Mitchfork you know we love that coming of age shit. It's our bread and butter, and our favorite album this year (you've probably already scrolled down by this point) fixates on just that.


#8!

Broken Social Scene, Forgiveness Rock Record
Best Track: "Romance To The Grave"



There's something to be said for consistency, and BSS has been a steady source of great since You Forgot It in People, their 2002 breakthrough. Going to their concert this past fall, we knew exactly what we were going to get: fantastic energy and passion, combined with some superb slow jams and epic breakdowns. There's no "It's All Gonna Break" or "Cause=Time" on Forgiveness Rock Record, but it makes up for it with "Sweetest Kill" and "Romance to the Grave", two ballads that still sizzle with that sexy energy BSS delivers in spades. They're always a band that goes for the heart rather than the head, and once again Cupid's arrow has struck home.


#7!

Wild Nothing, Gemini
Best Track: "Chinatown"




"Cause our lips won't last forever, and that's exactly why I'd rather live in dreams and I'd rather die." Yes yes yes. There's the chorus of "Live in Dreams", the inviting opening track of Wild Nothing's debut Gemini. The music matches the lyrics-- it's fuzzy and ethereal, perfect for that never-ending summer day. Atmosphere is so essential for a great album, and the way Jack Tatum (Wild Nothing is Jack Tatum), effortlessly captures a unique mood and dynamically maintains it for twelve songs gives us big hopes for his future. You want to lose yourself in Gemini's depths, to fall into your own dreams and leave behind the everyday realities that threaten the whimsical youth you once treasured. Seems a little much right? Fine, it's just a catchy, fun album that you'll like playing in your ears as you fly kites in the park. On acid.

#6!

Foals, Total Life Forever
Best Track: "What Remains"



More of the same from Foals on their second album. Thankfully, we love overly dramatic post-punk that sounds like it was recorded on the moon. There's just something so big about the production here, making each instrument, including the vocals, sound like they are miles away from each other. "Spanish Sahara" and "Alabaster" both embody this sprawling vastness, but it's closer "What Remains" that reveals what makes Foals special--Yannis Philippakis's voice. It hits the same notes that Paul Bank's does-- powerful, keening notes that make the music resonate and all that drama seem justified. Maybe Yannis really has been to the "darkest place you know", and maybe he does have some wisdom to impart about it. Only Yannis knows the answers. Yannis. Greek names are funny.


#5!

Wolf Parade, Expo 86
Best Track: "Ghost Pressure"




Return to form! We love that phrase, and are glad to use it on such a deserving band. We cut At Mount Zoomer a lot of slack when we were first digging our teeth in, but the subsequent listens in these last couple of years have not been kind. It felt scattered and disjointed, like Spencer and Dan couldn't get on the same page. Well, they've found their balance again and it shows. Consistently superb throughout, with the four songs from "What Did My Lover Say (It Always Had to Go This Way)" through "Ghost Pressure" providing the best stretch of music this year. Fittingly, both Dan and Spence contribute a pair of songs to this section of the album, and when they combine forces at the end of "Ghost Pressure", it's a sight (or listen rather) to behold. Now, time for a couple more Handsome Furs and Sunset Rubdown albums before they team up again. Not that we're complaining.

#4!

Crystal Castles, Crystal Castles (II)
Best Track: "Empathy"




We're not exactly sure what kind of electronica sub-genre Crystal Castles inhabits, and we do suppose you could have some fun dancing to these tracks. But there's just something fundamentally introverted about their music, a kind of shattered beauty conveyed by Alice Glass's wounded, haunting voice and the frantic, aggressive beats Ethan Kath puts forth that demands we put on our headphones and immerse ourselves in it. The prime example of this is "Not in Love"-- it's a up-tempo, new wavy track that you could definitely cut a rug to, but there's something damaged about it that makes it something you want to engage with your mind as well as your feet. That was true on Crystal Castles, and it's especially true now. Back in 2008 we posted on Yoontunes (a much more well-updated music blog run by a better man) that Crystal Castles was a shower of an album, and Crystal Castles (II) is the same. But it's value lies not in the initial appeal, but in the subsequent layers you are enticed to peel away.


#3!

Beach House, Teen Dream
Best Track: "Norway"




Don't let the barely there album art fool you, this was a BIG album from Beach House. It was their third album, and everyone knows that your third album is the one where everything culminates into awesome. In our opinion, this was the case with Modest Mouse, The National, Radiohead, TV on the Radio, Silver Jews and more. So it is with Beach House, who delivered two solid albums up to Teen Dream; releases that seemed intent on perfecting their brand of dream pop. They had atmosphere, but not much in the way of experimentation. Then, BAM. The instant we heard "Norway", we knew these two had taken a quantum leap forward.

Teen Dream reeks of ambition. It expands their sound without losing that unique atmosphere, and catapults Beach House into the upper echelon of indie rock. A large part of this ascension is due to the increased emphasis on Victoria Legrand's voice, which is now a commanding presence in every song. Maybe the best female voice in indie rock, it conveys the emotional depth that anchors this album. "10 Mile Stereo" rivals "Norway" in its "epicness", but the song soars because of Legrand's vocals reaching up to the heavens. What's most impressive is, unlike the long months between Mitchfork posts, this album never drags. Man, we tell ourselves everyday how big Mitchfork would have been if we had just kept it up like our collegiate binge drinking. Alas, blogging is a much easier habit to break.

#2!

The National, High Violet
Best Track: "Terrible Love" (This is taking into account how spellbinding it is live)




Our favorite band of the last five years is at it again. They found their musical voice with Alligator and have spent the last two albums finessing it, albeit in more subdued ways. While we rather liked the moments of epic bombast in Alligator, we've accepted that, by in large, the National are not that kind of band. Arcade Fire (foreshadowing) are that kind of band, but The National make music for weary adults attempting to maintain love, friendships, jobs and a sense of self in a chaotic urban backdrop. Arcade Fire give you anthems to rage against the injustice of the world, songs to pump your fist to as you bemoan the youth you've lost, and that's fine. There's a time and a place for that angst, but Mitchfork isn't an 20 year old at the cusp of adulthood anymore. We're professionals in our beloved white shirts, and, because of that, the malaise of The National speaks powerfully to us. It's expressed profoundly through Matt Berniger's baritone as he moans cryptic yet evocative lyrics, and it's cathartic to hear those words uttered by someone whose personal insight is always tempered by an understanding of his place in the wider world. They're specific to his experience, yet they still feel universal, at least to the demographic he's speaking for.

Yet, High Violet, while dark, isn't a downer. Just because The National aren't as "epic" anymore, doesn't mean they aren't some truly inspired and soaring moments. "Terrible Love", "Lemonworld" and "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks" all come to mind as songs that build up to fantastic flourishes that always feel deserved. Then there's "Anyone's Ghost", which would be our favorite song on the album were in not that we saw "Terrible Love" live. The whole song gives us chills, especially the climax, where the words "I told my friends not to worry" vaguely menace in way that sticks with you long after the music ends.

So, as you uncertainly weave your way through adult life trying to balance your responsibilities and your idealism, listen to High Violet and know you're not alone.

#1!

Arcade Fire, The Suburbs
Best Track: "Suburban War"



But you know what? After saying all that stuff about maturely "coming to terms" with the sacrifices we all have to make as we age, we also realize sometimes you need anthems that actively try to reclaim that passion we've lost. Sometimes, we get fucking sick and tired of adult life, of being worn down by a world that seems intent on stripping our remaining youth away from us. Sometimes, we want unbridled emotion that lashes out at the vague and sinister forces that seek to destroy the children. Won't someone think of the children?! The children we once were, and the children that we still treasure because they're not cynical and disillusioned like us.

That's where Arcade Fire comes in. They've been hard at work protecting the children for three albums, but neither Funeral or Neon Bible reached the heights found on The Suburbs. We're not afraid to already put this album in our ALL-TIME top 10, because this time their music and their message are completely in sync. This is the album this Canadian collective were born to make-- it's a triumphant "statement" LP that strikes a blow at...the inevitable?

A huge chunk of The Suburbs is spent looking back, on the beautiful boredom and the endless wait for an adulthood that would be spent yearning for what was lost in the transition. But where it succeeds is in its ability to capture that angst and render it relevant to the people we are now, the same folks who are still frantically trying to figure shit out but don't have the panacea of a looming adulthood to set their hearts at ease.

A substantial part of that success is predicated on Win Butler's voice, so vulnerable and raw, but still reflecting the charisma of a man who sincerely believes he's saying something worth hearing. The lyrics are deeply personal, reflecting on his youth in the suburbs of Houston, but when he yells out "oh my old friends, they don't know me now; oh my old friends are staring through me now" in "Suburban War" (this is the highlight of the entire album for us), you intuitively know exactly what he's saying.

There are so many other fantastic moments in this album ("Ready to Start", "Deep Blue" and "Rococo" come to mind), and none of them are subtle. Arcade Fire is not a band that deals in subtlety-- they want to get you out of your seat and screaming along with them, a community of disciples who are primed and ready for something nearing a religious experience. That's fine by us-- they've earned their spot as the face of indie rock with stadium anthems that are meant to have 50,000 people singing along. Sometimes you don't just want a band to yourself; sometimes you want to share them with all your friends, their friends, and those friends' mothers. And you're all the better for it.

Thanks, Arcade Fire, for headlining one amazing year of music.

And there you have it. 2010. We at Mitchfork hope you enjoyed it as much as we all did.

A Fireside Chat with... Julian Plenti (Paul Banks of Interpol)

Hello all. Rudy (I'm the intern) here with Mitchfork. We at Mitchfork felt that, in these cold winter months, there's no better place to be than by a crackling fireplace. So we invited some of our musician friends to chat with us down by the hearth.

This week's guest? Julian Plenti. Some call him Paul Banks. Those people disgust us.

Jules my man, welcome to the fireside. Let's have a chat.

Julian Plenti: Is that fireplace electric?

Nah, it just sparks a lot. But let's continue! Congrats on your debut.

Julian: Seriously, that fireplace is freaking me out. Can we go to the kitchen or something?

Only if we run! Ha--get it?

Julian: Yeah, it's my opening track. (eye roll)

Dude, not cool. We'll completely record the eye roll part too. Look, we invited you to our fireside, least you can do is laugh at our jokes.

Julian: Well maybe if you put Skyscraper in your top albums of 2009.

Damn it man we agreed not to talk about this. Get over yourself.

Julian: Just saying, I think it was a pretty great debut. A departure from the signature sound of Interpol.

And by that you mean the signature sound of Joy Division?

Julian: Are you serious dude? We don't sound anything like Joy Division. And freaking embers are landing on me.

Oh I was just kidding. Come on man, don't take yourself so seriously. We'll just put the album in an article titled: "Top Albums by Front men from rapidly fading indie-rock bands". You'll beat out Julian Casablancas easy.

Julian: Can we go off the record?

Sure.

Paul Banks: Great. Now, off the record, this is complete horse shit. I could easily have done this interview with Spin; I'm only here because you're my cousin.

Yeah, and what would Uncle Bernard say if you bailed on me?

Paul: Oh come on. Don't tell Dad about this. He already thinks I'm on drugs.

Ok then, I won't. Let's just continue the interview. I promise it'll only be softball questions from now on. Come on cuz.

Paul: Fine. Whatever. Ask away.

Great! So Julian, do you believe "On the Esplanade" is a good example of you embracing the creative freedom of a solo effort? It's a real departure from anything Interpol has done.

Julian: Yeah I would say so. I've always wanted to do a hushed acoustic number, to showcase a quieter side.

Yeah, very eerie sounding. And how does it feel to realize all your best work is already behind you? I mean, there's no way you guys are coming close to matching Turn on the Bright Lights. Just isn't happening.

Julian: This interview is over.

See you at Thanksgiving! Gchat me sometime!


Fireside Chats will continue until all the snow melts. Next week's guest? Stephen Malkmus!

Sufjan Stevens Up to Something

See that man up there? Yeah, he's plotting some chicanery. Recent interviews have Sufjan proclaiming an end to the fifty states project and questioning the value of sharing his music with the wider world. He has stated that he worries "there's a risk of becoming a cliche of myself". Setting aside the fact that becoming a cliche of one's self isn't a bad thing (Pitchfork becoming a cliche of itself gave birth to Mitchfork), we still don't buy it.



Just look in those eyes. Those big, beautiful eyes. Portals into the soul of a benevolent Christian man. Right? Wrong. This is a devious, deceptive individual, and that's why we love him. Jesus himself was a bit of a trickster, with his now legendary "water to wine", "rising from the dead", and "saying I am the son of God" bits, and Sufjan possesses the same masterful command of public perception.

Right now, that public perceives him as a troubled genius who is currently enduring a crisis of self. This belief stems from the angst-ridden interviews he has given and the increasing amount of time since his last LP "Illinois". But we're not buying it--he's manufacturing an image, lulling the indie populace into a false state of calm. Like MJ when he retired the first time from the NBA. Then, when they least expect it, BAM. Double album! "Lone Star Love Songs" (Texas) and "Garden State, But Not the Movie With Zach Braff and Natalie Portman, Which Was Uninspired and Didn't Do Justice to the Diversity and Majesty of the Third State in Our Union" (New Jersey).

Just like that, he's back on top of the world with both middle fingers raised. From that point on he releases an album a year until his 80th birthday when "Puerto Rico, It's About Time! An Ode to Our 51st" hits the charts and wins 12 Grammys. After this, Sufjan will climb into a spaceship and become one of the first colonists on the Moon, an experience that will lead him to compose "Songs From That Ball of Cheese In The Sky".



So yeah, he's just fine. That crafty sonuvabitch.

Top 10 Albums of 2009

From the same fork who brought you the Top 20 Albums of the 2000s! (see below). If you did see below, you will see that there wasn't a single album from 2009 on the list. Mitchfork has received flack for this and, while we'll readily admit that time might treat some of this year's albums favorably, as of now you can count us unimpressed with the last year of the decade.

The biggest reason for this lack of praise is that Mitchfork does not bow to the altars of the following:
Animal Collective
Grizzly Bear
Dirty Projectors

We'll admit to liking Grizzly Bear, tolerating Animal Collective, and not giving Dirty Projectors much of a chance because of the vocals. But we didn't have to change underwear when these albums hit the scene in 2009. In fact, we never change underwear period.

Lacking these three lauded bands, 2009 doesn't seem quite as impressive. However, there were still 10 fine albums (and an honorable mention) worthy of attention. These are those 10(11), plus Mitchfork's Music Video of the Year.

MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR:

Grizzly Bear, "Ready, Able"

Mitchfork's favorite track off of Veckatimest gets the royal treatment video-wise. Like, wow. Long a fan of claymation, we'd never seen it utilized in such a jaw dropping way. Works perfectly with the song too (sorry Jeff, who fails to comprehend MOOD and focused just on the connection to the lyrics). Don't believe us? Watch for yourself:





Onto the list!

Honorable Mention:
Dead Man's Bones, Dead Man's Bones





Every October from now on the debut from Zach Shields and FAMOUS ACTOR Ryan Gosling is Mitchfork's #1. The perfectly spooky album for Halloween lovers everywhere, it features traces of everything from doo-wop to 80's new wave. Despite its Halloween themed nature, it isn't the slightest bit kitschy (if anything, the backing choir of children really add a haunting, urgent quality to the music). These are songs about ghosts, death, zombies and werewolves done right.


#10:
The Twilight Sad, Forget The Night Ahead





This here is the second album from The Twilight Sad and, despite the accolades their debut received, Mitchfork thought it dragged a bit. A lot of the same. Not so with Forget The Night Ahead-- These songs sizzle, propelling forward leaner and meaner than anything previous. Mitchfork is convinced this album showcases a band honing their skills for even bigger things in the future. And we're not quite sure what it is about the Scottish accent that allows it to contain such angst, but it always makes us think of Ewan Mcgregor's "It's SHITE being Scottish!" speech from Trainspotting. Good Shite, that.


#9:
Ramona Falls, Intuit





Do like Menomena? Mitchfork does. Mitchfork also likes Ramona Falls (perhaps even more), and that's no coincidence. Definitely the same guy (Brent Knopf), as well as the same gorgeous soaring songs featuring a ton of different instruments blending together in a wonderous cacophony. "Diamond Shovel", the closer, is our favorite-- there is a beautiful resignation to it we find strangely arresting. If we ever get a chance to watch the famed lemming death march, we want this playing in the background.


#8:
The xx, xx




Surprise hit of 2009 brought to you by a bunch of British teenagers. It's a slow burn, a nuanced and mature effort that meshes together post-punk with some dancey grooves. And the dueling male/female vocals makes us think of Stars, which isn't a bad thing. Architecture in Helsinki in their quieter moments-- they remind Mitchfork of that too. Finally, they make Mitchfork think of sexy things, because (listen up all you players out there) this is a perfect record to get that special someone in the mood. Right before you fork the bejesus out of them.


#7:
Japandroids, Post-Nothing





Unlike our #8, there is nothing subdued about Japandroids. They make the music you'd expect teenagers to make, brazen lo-fi anthems about growing up, leaving home and not giving a shit what happens next. "You can keep tomorrow/after tonight gonna need it!" is hollered in "Young Hearts Spark Fire" (what a perfect name for this song), and it sums up the reckless passion pouring out of this album. We at Mitchfork are listening to this album at the moment, and it's making us want to leave home tonight and start driving. Just jump in a car and leave it all behind. But we have bills to pay and laundry to do, so we'll just turn it up a little louder (until the wife tells us to turn it down). Ahhhh, to be young.


#6:
Sunset Rubdown, Dragonslayer





Man, we never thought Wolf Parade could top Apologies to the Queen Mary. And they didn't. We also didn't think Spencer Krug's own band could best their previous opus, Random Spirit Lover. They also didn't. But Sunset Rubdown still delivers a healthy dose of the Krugian quirk, spinning wild tales matched by even wilder music. There is so much spastic awesome going on here, but it still manages to be catchy and relatively accessible. These songs jerk from left to right, shooting off in unpredictable directions that the listener can't help but find exhilarating. As exhilarating as dragonslaying? No, but that's why all the dragons are dead. It was too much fun.


#5:
Passion Pit, Manners





Unrelentingly chipper, the boys from Passion Pit followed up their breakthrough EP Chunk of Change with the equally sugary Manners. Sometimes it can get to be a little much, Michael Angelakos's delicate (and occasionally shrill) voice thrown in with all these happy go lucky beats. But then they break it down and you're bobbing your head, feeling carefree and thinking "hey summer isn't so far away". Plus, there's "Sleepyhead", the best track on Manners just as it was on Chunk of Change. Man, what a song-- they can put it on every album they ever release and Mitchfork won't hold it against them.


#4:
The Rural Alberta Advantage Hometowns





Mitchfork had never considered taking a trip to Alberta-- it just didn't seem to have much recommending it. Saskatchewan, now that's a different story. However, we had never had the advantages of living in Alberta framed in such a compelling way. In this band we see elements of Arcade Fire's debut, a raw yearning for lost innocence, but both musically and vocally there are moments that recall Neutral Milk Hotel. When these names are being tossed out you're doing something right and, while they're still rough around the edges, the RAA have crafted an album that leaves a powerful emotional imprint. Pack your bags honey, we're off to the prairies of western Canada to see what all the fuss is about.


#3:
Longwave, Secrets are Sinister





After a huge letdown of a third album, Longwave delivered on the promise of their major label debut five years later (it came out at the end of 2008 but we didn't get into it until 2009). This is a controversial pick, because Secrets are Sinister is not a groundbreaking album and we didn't expect it to earn high praise from the other fork. Regardless, it is right in Mitchfork's wheelhouse. From the lofty guitar work in "I Don't Dare", to the ferocious rocker "No Direction" (great song to jog to), this album delivers the stadium anthems and lush, layered atmospherics that make our spine tingle. Others have done it before, and done it better, but this doesn't make this album any less satisfying.


#2:
We Were Promised Jetpacks, These Four Walls





Mitchfork had been anticipating the debut from these Scots (tourmates of Frightened Rabbit and The Twilight Sad) for quite some time, ever since we heard "Quiet Little Voices" repeatedly played by John in the Morning (DJ at 91.3 KEXP Seattle, pretty much the man) in 2008. The same Scottish torment exists here as in Forget The Night Ahead, but These Four Walls possesses a more distinct loud/soft dynamic (which, as diehard Modest Mouse fans, we just adore). There's a desperate energy that inhabits every song on the album, a tension always in danger of exploding forth like it does on the opener "It's Thunder and It's Lightning". It's infectious, containing the same kind of raw power that drew us to Japandroids, and Mitchfork is eager to see how these fellows can harness it in future efforts.


#1:
Phoenix,Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix





There was no debate here-- Phoenix's breakthrough to the mainstream was a painless choice for album of the year. These Frenchies were everywhere in 2009-- late night shows, Cadillac commercials, you name it. Mitchfork listened to "1901" until our ears bled, and then after we cleaned up the mess we listened some more. And the fun doesn't stop there-- the whole album is tight, bouncy pop that breezes on by like that summer day you wished would never end. In a year filled with lo-fi acts that critics fell over themselves to praise, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix showed how gifted musicians, confident in their sound, could create a superior album free of unnecessary fuzz. Phoenix put their melodies out in front where they belong, and it resulted in the best music of 2009.

The Top 20 Albums of the 2000s

Hello loyal reader (singular). Mitchfork tends to fade in and out- this is well documented by no one. But there is no better time for us to reemerge then right before the decade's finale. In doing so, we can do something that no one else on the internet dares attempt- compile a list of the best albums of the past decade. The odds, or whatever the last ten years are called.

This decade will go down as the decade that Mitchfork's musical tastes took shape, and it is very likely that the twenty best albums from 2010-2020 will be chosen out of the 21 albums Mitchfork has listened to. Because at that point Mitchfork will have a dozen squalling children in addition to a middle management position that will leave little time to find new music.

But it won't matter; this decade has provided all that Mitchfork will ever need. So many fantastic albums, so many sublime moments experiencing all the wonderful highlights of each. We won't gush at length about why each of the next twenty albums are amazing- our praise will be brief and dazzling. To forewarn our loyal reader (talking to you Dmitri in the Ukraine), there will be multiple albums from certain bands- we at Mitchfork have no need to showcase our diversity in taste. We don't listen to a lot of hip hop, metal, country, jazz, or whatever other bullshit genre will go unrepresented on this list. And because we only cater to Dmitri, we don't have to put OutKast at number 6 (although we do like OutKast, don't get us wrong).

Anyways, let's have at it.


#20:
Radiohead- Kid A (2000)





The countdown is bookended by two albums from the year 2000. If we just gave number one away, so be it. Number twenty is Kid A, which edged out In Rainbows, Amnesiac and Hail to the Thief for the bottom spot. Yes, only one Radiohead on the countdown, but that isn't to slight Radiohead, which had an amazing decade of music. Mitchfork could just never fall head over heels in love with the icy beauty Thom and company export stateside. That said, Kid A is devastating, and we mean that in the best way possible. It flows effortlessly and contains Mitchfork's favorite track from the band. We would call "Idioteque" the highlight, but we've always thought of the album as one continuously excellent song.

#19:
The Wrens, The Meadowlands (2003)*

The asterisk you see is due to the fact that, more than 3 years later, we revisited this list and realized a grave error had been made on two accounts. First, we had allowed one of the greatest Indie Rock (capital "i" and "r" because The Meadowlands really is indie rock at its best) albums ever to be pushed aside just because we were feeling exceptionally defensive regarding Modest Mouse's diminishing returns. So We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank got this slot, even though we knew deep down that it didn't deserve it. A fine album, but it stood firmly in the shadow of Isaac and company's earlier work, and time has only further cemented that belief in our minds. Meanwhile, a decade after its release, The Wrens' third and possibly final LP remains as amazing as it was when we first listened to it back in the day. For a stirring defense of The Meadowlands, I would direct you to this post lauding it on its 10th anniversary. Now back to the countdown, filled with other albums we'll probably replace as well once we enter our "smooth jazz" stage in middle age. Cue Batman line about dying a hero or living long enough to see yourself turned into the villain.


#18:
The National, Boxer (2007)





Alligator is better. Let's just start with that. How much better, you can find out below. Boxer is the introverted sibling of Alligator, which means it still contains Matt Berninger's uniquely commanding baritone and some superb, albeit more restrained tracks. "Mistaken for Strangers" is the exception, and it also happens to be the best song on the album. But the softer stuff has a muted intensity that still compels the listener- see "Brainy", "Squalor Victoria" and "Guest Room" for striking examples. Berninger's lyrics are always strangely arresting, speaking of common subjects in oddly affecting ways. "Racing Like a Pro" best captures his way with words, causing a confused Mitchfork to get all choked up about some middle class girl who sometimes bakes a cake and sometimes stays in bed. Kudos to Matt, for making us care.

#17:
Stars, Set Yourself on Fire (2004)





Cheesy. Sappy. Beautiful? Yeah, that too. Set Yourself on Fire was a continuation of the synthy (made that word up), guy/girl singing dynamic visible in Stars' first two albums, but the third time was the charm. Stars albums always start strong, but up until this LP they always dragged in certain places. Set Yourself on Fire commences with the epic "Your Ex-Lover is Dead" and never looks back. Stars makes music about Love with a capital L, but that doesn't mean the verses always describe fairy tale romance. "One More Night", for all its gorgeous strings, has some vicious lyrics. This one in particular always stuck with Mitchfork: "He starts with her back cause that's what he sees; when she's breaking his heart she still fucks like a tease". There's no holding back with that line, and the same holds true for this album.


#16:
Bloc Party, A Weekend in the City (2007)





Rarely does Mitchfork acknowledge other online musical critics, but in this case we'll make an exception. After the accolades showered on Silent Alarm, A Weekend in the City was met, by in large, with a lack of enthusiasm. This is baffling, because the band really didn't significantly alter the winning formula of their first album. Sure, some of the edges were smoothed over and sure, overall it isn't as dazzling as their debut. But they still prove themselves capable of crafting propulsive songs with inspiring choruses and addictive hooks. "Kreuzberg", "On" and "Waiting for the 7:18" roped us in on the first listen and never let go. At the end of 2007 (fantastic year for music) Mitchfork looked back and arrived at the following conclusion. With the exception of one other album (to be named later), we hadn't listened to anything else nearly as much. So no talk of sophomore slumps- this was a sophomore plateau.


#15:
Death Cab for Cutie, Transatlanticism (2003)





This was the turning point for Death Cab. After three lo-fi efforts, they brought out the big guns for Transatlanticism. Nothing subdued about the title track to this album, and the shimmery production throughout really set the band up for the mainstream breakthrough that followed. But they never would have exploded onto the scene if the songs couldn't hold their own, and boy do they ever. It's easily their most accomplished effort to date, marrying all the strengths of their previous albums with a grandeur previously lacking. "Tiny Vessels" will always be Mitchfork's favorite Death Cab track, and not just because it is so very very pretty. It's because the lyrics and the imagery inspired by them are riveting. We became convinced that we actually had a doomed fling with a beautiful girl underneath the California sun, and we'd never left Prince Edward Island before.

#14:
Sufjan Stevens, Seven Swans (2004)





Yes, there have been way too many songs written about Jesus. Sure, he was, in all likelihood, a swell guy. We get that. But enough singing his accolades already. Mitchfork is sure even he's pretty sick of them by now. That said, we would wager he was still impressed by this offering from Sufjan- we sure were. These songs are beautifully composed and Sufjan's voice seems the ideal vessel to pay homage to the Son of God, but it goes beyond that. When you hear tracks like "To Be Alone with You", you, theist or not, understand. You understand why it is people believe, why the idea of Christ dying on a cross for us still remains so powerful to people like Stevens. Sufjan doesn't hide the complexities involved in worshiping God- included in these songs are the fear, the love, the awe and the sacrifice. It's all there, said in a nakedly honest way that, even if you don't believe, would still feel blasphemous to question. The well that Sufjan is drawing from here is a deep and enduring one, and it makes for a inspiring listening experience.

#13:
Interpol, Antics (2004)





What A Weekend in the City was to Silent Alarm, so Antics is to Turn on the Bright Lights, Interpol's near-perfect debut. The problem with releasing an album like TOTBL, and it's a problem Mitchfork doubts crossed the band's mind while they were making it, is that you are setting yourself up for an inevitable decline the second time around. Thankfully, the decline wasn't a steep one. Antics does an admirable job of living up to its predecessor, sounding leaner but not losing the trademark post-punk sound Interpol revived best. "Evil", "Narc", "Slow Hands" and "C'mere" (to name a few) all kick serious butt, and none of the other songs are slouches either. They all have Paul Bank's eerie voice guiding them as he sings his typically abstract lyrics and, if Mitchfork thought we had exhausted our Interpol love after the million listens to TOTBL, Antics proved that we were ready for more.

#12:
Modest Mouse, Good News for People Who Love Bad News (2004)





Like Death Cab, it took Modest Mouse four albums to breakthrough to the mainstream. And while Good News isn't MM's best album, Mitchfork is still very content that the world decided to buy so many copies of this particular distillation of their greatness. "Float On", no matter how many times it is played (so many) remains a song we want to hear again and again. Somehow, someway, these fellows managed to make this album much more accessible that any of their others and not lose one iota of what made them great to begin with. It was still weird, it was still profound and it still revealed an evolution in their sound. We will point our finger at "The View" when we discuss evolution, because this wonderful jam isn't quite like anything MM had done before, but if you were to imagine them creating a MM song you could dance to, this would be exactly it. Once again, Mitchfork would heap further praise on this band and what they did here, but we're not done yet with the pride of Issaquah, WA.

#11:
Arcade Fire, Funeral (2004)





Ok, everyone put down your Mitchforks. THE album for many indie rock lovers in the past decade doesn't make the top 10?! Nope, it doesn't. We liked Neon Bible better. We will explain why when Neon Bible gets its due. Funeral though, Funeral is awesome. Mitchfork still remembers breathlessly waiting to hear "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" again- thing was that we'd have to listen to "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)" before we could even fathom giving #1 another earful. Arcade Fire tapped into something with their debut (and follow up), a kind of communal energy that made those listening feel young and powerful. This energy pushed them beyond their influences (Talking Heads, Springsteen, etc.) and into a realm all their own. If you want to call them the band of the decade, Mitchfork won't hold it against you- they've earned the right. Oh, and they are absolutely amazing in concert. A religious experience- we shit you not.

#10:
Cut Copy, In Ghost Colours (2008)





Cut Copy's entry on this list is the only album in the last two years to make it on. Mitchfork hasn't really been overly impressed with 2008 and 2009 music wise, which, unfairly or not, just makes this gem of an album stand out all the more. Also working in In Ghost Colours's favor is the fact that it's the only album on the countdown that occupies the genre of dance/electronica. Regardless, this album makes us so happy. Happier than any other album on the list. It is unabashedly joyful sounding, jump up and down and swing your arm around your head music. What it's saying is pretty straightforward, and can easily be summed up by the song titles. "Feel the Love", "Lights and Music", and "Hearts on Fire" aren't making deep statements on the human condition, but they are fulfilling a powerful human need- the desire to lose yourself completely in something outside of yourself (in this case, music) and follow it wherever it will lead you (the dance floor), consequences be damned. Think of Cut Copy as your Aussie gospel choir, and you're the parishioners swaying in the aisles. Yeah, it's like that, but with more synth.

#9:
Brand New, Deja Entendu (2003)





Like In Ghost Colours, Deja Entendu stands out a bit on this list because it is the only album that could have trouble dodging the feared tag of "emo". But there's nothing grievously wrong with the idea of emo, it's just that the execution of that idea, especially in this decade, is often a bit, how to put this... retarded. Mitchfork would like to think Brand New showed how the young bravado, the broken hearts and the passive-aggressive angst that typifies emo could age gracefully. It is no easy task to transform that juvenile aggression into complex adult pathos, but the band, matching Jesse Lacey's evocative lyrics with a more nuanced sound, accomplished just that. The result is powerful; it's the sound of disillusioned kids emerging from the pains of adolescence only to realize there is a lot more serious shit still to come ("Guernica" is a heart-breaking description of Lacey's grandfather's battle with lung cancer). If you, like Mitchfork, were 18 when this album was released, then in it you found a perfect shepherd to help the transition to the next stage of life, the one where you have real reasons to emote.

#8:
The Postal Service, Give Up (2003)





The same year his band Death Cab for Cutie released its best album, the already mentioned Transatlanticism, Ben Gibbard teamed up with Jimmy Tamborello to create The Postal Service. Based on the ranks of each album, you can guess which project Mitchfork wishes Gibbard had continued with. Not to slight Death Cab, but the marriage of Gibbard's plaintive vocal melodies to Tamborello's twinkling electro beats and sparkling synths was a match made in pop heaven. Add in Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis as a female foil and you have an album that's too pretty for its own good. Most folks know "Such Great Heights" as the oft covered standout track, but Mitchfork has always been partial to "Clark Gable"'s breezy sound/bitter lyrics and "This Place is a Prison"'s brooding intensity. But really, not a weak song on the LP. How about another?

#7:
Bloc Party, Silent Alarm (2005)





When Mitchfork thinks of the post-punk revival, its favorite revival of ALL TIME (at least until Tom Sawyer straw hats come back into style), it thinks of two albums above all others. The first is Turn on the Bright Lights (still to come) and the second is Silent Alarm. What Interpol was to Joy Division (atmospheric bands with morose, keening vocals), Bloc Party's debut was to Gang of Four. Subsequent albums might have diminished that punk edge, but with Silent Alarm the band captured the Leed's boys "hey, fuck you" persona two decades later. These songs lacked the abstract resignation of Interpol's- they were pointed and visceral, describing young men coming of age and raging against the warped modern world around them. There was no apathy here, just Kele Okerekes' distinctively English voice spitting lyrics against a backdrop of soaring guitars and a pulsing rhythm section. Despite this album being chock full of hits, it must be noted that "Banquet" stands above them all. One of Mitchfork's favorite songs ever, it's an absolute missile.

#6:
Arcade Fire, Neon Bible (2007)





Better than Funeral. Not by a lot. Pretty much just because the band transformed a great song ("No Cars Go") from their debut EP into the best song they've ever done. Subject-wise, Neon Bible focused more outward than inward, projecting Win's wounded voice at all the chaos and suffering existing in an America being gutted by a spiritually bankrupt mass media (cough MTV cough). There is a sense of dread permeating the album, but the fascinating thing is how uplifting it all still is. This is not a downer of an album, just as Funeral wasn't a downer for all its depressing subject matter. We mentioned in the Funeral review how going to an AF concert was like a religious experience, and we weren't joking. Never had Mitchfork been to a concert where we felt an actual kinship with the other concert goers, like we were all a part of something bigger, a movement of sorts. Most folks familiar with the album know if was recorded in a church, and that isn't a fact to be brushed aside. Any church worth its salt protects the meek and poor, those victimized by the casual cruelty of an uncaring world intent on seeking more power and money. With Neon Bible, Arcade Fire delivered a soundtrack for the oppressed, a powerful statement in troubled times that delivers just enough hope for the future.

#5:
Wolf Parade: Apologies to the Queen Mary (2005)





Now we're in the top 5. These are the real doozies. Mitchfork will allow you to not own the previous 15 albums- it's not cool but we'll allow it. But from here on in there are no excuses- get them and love them as you would your own children. Apologies to the Queen Mary was Wolf Parade's debut, and it only makes sense that it would be Isaac Brock who would both sign the band and produce this album, a unique and striking collaboration from two dynamic musical personalities (Dan Boeckner and Spencer Krug). If you've heard Dan and Spencer's other groups, Handsome Furs and Sunset Rubdown, you can see how a mishmash of both styles could result in something like this, a spectacularly weird but somehow accessible album that takes turns being unnerving and uplifting. The subject matter is otherworldly and the music keeps pace, bouncing back and forth between Krug and Boeckner singing lead in equally compelling fashion. The lyrics aren't straightforward, but that doesn't make them any less gripping. For example, on "I'll Believe in Anything" the climatic centerpiece of the album, Krug yelps "If I could take the fire out from the wire, I'd share a life and you'd share a life". Mitchfork has no idea how these two things are connected, but goddamnit we want them to share a life so bad. And yes, it's crossed our minds that the reason we love Apologies so much has something to do with the fact that Isaac's fingerprints are all over it. It has a distinctly Modest Mouse flair, something that's lacking from 99.9% of all music. Why? It isn't because Isaac Brock isn't producing the other 99.9% (although that would be nice). It's because only a band like Wolf Parade could create a sound as monumentally distinctive as Modest Mouse's. And Isaac, realizing that, jumped on board for the ride. What a ride it was.

#4:
The National, Alligator (2005)





In order to understand the appeal of The National you first need to understand how potent Matt Berninger's baritone is. All the bands on this list have strong vocals ranging from angelic (Sufjan) to spastic (Isaac). And all are crucial reasons why each of the albums made the list. But The National's case is different. Berninger's voice is the fulcrum on which the band's sound pivots. "I think this place is full of spiders" seems like an unimpressive line, but the instant the first words of "Secret Meeting" hit Mitchfork's ears we came to full attention. Everything else done by the Devendorf and Dessner brothers (gorgeous piano parts, versatile guitar work and stellar drumming), as well as impressive strings from Padma Newsome, are fantastic and necessary for this album to amaze, but without the centerpiece of that voice to hold it all together The National wouldn't be The National and Alligator wouldn't be the fourth best album of the decade. And it's not just that Berninger has the pipes, it's how he uses those pipes to deliver equally riveting lyrics. What is impressive about his songwriting is how much he says without saying much at all, knowing the exact phrasing to convey volumes of emotion. One of Mitchfork's faves, "Baby We'll Be Fine", has Berninger repeatedly reciting "I'm so sorry for everything", in a resigned tone that communicates the weary sadness of anyone who's ever been in a doomed relationship's final stages. Contrast that with the desperate pride of "Mr. November"'s refrain "I won't fuck us over I'm Mr. November", screamed again and again. The scope of human feeling covered in Alligator is what makes it superior to Boxer and just about anything else out there. Excluding the next three albums of course.

#3:
Sufjan Stevens, Illinois (2005)





Perhaps you, loyal reader Dmitri, have noticed something with each successive album blurb. That's right, they're getting LONGER. Because Mitchfork doesn't want to waste a ton of its energy in the defense of Kid A at number twenty, but it will gladly spend a chunk of time valiantly persuading the reader that Alligator is one of those "must have" albums. In fact, we could spend ten pages arguing why Illinois is a seminal album, a epic success from a man with a grand vision. Sufjan Stevens is that man. Compared to the hushed hymns of Seven Swans, Illinois might seem brash and gaudy. But it wasn't about Jesus, it was about the great state of Illinois! Abe Lincoln! Barry Obama! Sears Tower! Stuff to really herald! With really long song titles and song lengths, not to mention choirs and horns and interludes! Sufjan covers a ton of ground in the course of the twenty-two tracks on his fifth album, but whether he is singing of serial killers, Superman, or cancer, all are somehow related to our 21st state. Thing is, what made Seven Swans such an engrossing listen was how Sufjan made a bland topic (re: any lame ass Christian rock band singing of how they were touched by the Lord) intensely and uniquely personal. He does the exact same thing here, managing to connect each song's subject with some part of himself. A haunting example is in the standout track "John Wayne Gacy Jr.", where Sufjan laments the fate of all those killed by the man before ending the song with this: "And in my best behavior I am really just like him. Look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid." Mitchfork still gets chills listening to it. Or when, in "They Are Night Zombies", a perfectly spooky Halloween track with a sick bassline whose full title suggests anything but seriousness, he delivers the line "I know my time has passed. I'm not so young I'm not so fast. I tremble with the nervous thought of having been, at last, forgot." Maybe it's Sufjan's voice, so pure and so heartfelt, but pretty much anything he utters sounds like he's offering deep insight into the human spirit. Sufjan wouldn't lie to you. How could Sufjan lie to you when he can't even lie to himself? Finally, we would like to take this moment to beg Sufjan to make another proper album soon. Please dude. Seriously.

#2:
Interpol, Turn on the Bright Lights (2002)





It's blasphemous, but we'll say it anyway. Were it not for Isaac's lyrics, this album would be number one. There is absolutely nothing wrong with Turn on the Bright Lights; from start to finish it delivers everything Mitchfork could ever desire from an album. We have listened to this album an unconscionable amount and it still strikes a chord (pun intended) every time. The atmosphere, created by the perfect symbiosis between Paul Bank's piercing vocals and the other instruments ably wielded by the band, is otherworldly. Guitars, both clear and fuzzy, trickle down from the heavens around as an undercurrent of bass hums over a steady pitter-patter of drumbeats. At points in this album you seriously question whether it was composed by human beings- it's almost as if the gods decided to jam out one night on Olympus. We won't go into great depth regarding each individual song, we'll just do you the favor of mapping out how brilliantly laid out the album is as a whole. "Untitled" eases you in slowly with those eerie guitars; "Leif Erikson" escorts you out to the lingering sound of Bank's final impassioned cries. "Hands Away" is the perfect slow burn break from the action, all soaring synths. "PDA" and "Obstacle #1" are frenzied and menacing where "NYC" is weary and defeated. And "The New" (A Mitchfork fav) slowly builds to a wild guitar solo that expresses all the angst built up in a troubled relationship. The lyrics themselves? They revolve around love, young urban life and, like the music itself, are mysterious as to their exact meaning. On subsequent Interpol records, when the music wasn't so spellbinding, more focus was placed on Bank's lyrics and much was found lacking. However, in the context of TOTBL, they work perfectly, often inscrutable verses that sync up just right with the ethereal music flowing forth. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THIS ALBUM. Now, onto numero uno.

#1:
Modest Mouse, The Moon and Antarctica (2000)





There's been a lot of hyperbole thrown around on this list. Don't expect it to stop here. Although it would be really funny if it did. "The Moon and Antarctica- a satisfactory album created by competent musicians". However, we are going to resist the urge to expound at great length and force ourselves to keep it short and sweet. Because that's how Isaac would have wanted it. We've always seen The Moon and Antarctica as the moment where Isaac's worldview, defined by his searching lyrics and acute insights, found its perfect musical conduit (we give tons of credit to Isaac, but within these parentheses we'd also like to shout out to Eric Judy and Jeremiah Green. Specifically Judy's bassline in "Tiny Cities Made of Ashes", (so funky, so ominous) and Jeremiah's drumming in "What People Are Made Of", which works us into such a frenzy we are sure it could be used in our defense at trial). The melding of the two, buoyed by increased production capabilities resulting from the switch to a major label (Epic), resulted in a majestic statement about human existence. From the icy reaches of Antarctica and the dark center of the universe to tiny cities made of ashes and the depths of hell, the sixteen songs on this album traverse far and wide, but Mitchfork still feels the resonance to our own life. The credit for this goes to Isaac, whose abiding grasp of the profound is casually forwarded along to you, the listener. Even though the scope of this album and the lyrics being uttered seem beyond you, you still "get" it. Or think you get it. Which is pretty much the same thing. Simply put, it's a revelation that changed the way Mitchfork approached listening to music. Music could be a transcendent experience, not just a catchy tune.

There's so much more to say, but we'll leave it at that. The Moon and Antarctica is Mitchfork's favorite album of the decade, as well as our favorite album of all time. Yet, Toto is our favorite band. Can someone explain that?