Internal dialogue:
“I just made it under the wire, so—”
“The deadline was the start of 2013.”
“Yeah, but it’s only—”
“It’s almost March. These are the top albums of 2012.”
“What?”
“It’s almost March, 2013.”
“Well, here it goes I guess. Sometimes I have to persevere in spite of you”:
10) The Walkmen—Heaven: Since I’m often attributing thoughts to friends and others on this blog, what better way to start 2013? Someone said to me about Heaven, “The Walkmen are doing something different, and I like it.” To the casual ear, it’s not much different; Hamilton Leithauser’s belting vocals are as overwhelming as always. But the music is less loud and the pace is slowed. I’m constantly comparing The Walkmen to The National, not in sound, but in career archs. Both are now elder statesmen of indie rock and they seem to embrace the role. The material of the lyrics hasn’t changed—it’s still full of angst and, in both cases, overtly disdainful of adulthood. The Walkmen do concede age in the most graceful of ways, singing “All the kids are laughing / I’m laughing too,” and “Patience will keep you alive.” In general, everything is more refined and relaxed, which is atypical of The Walkmen, especially when considering their first two albums. Plus, “Song for Leigh” is a peach.
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9) Dwight Yoakam—3 Pears: A contemporary country guy over that band I saw very drunk after staying at Pizza Port for too long!? It’s true, Dwight has claimed the number nine spot. Maybe it’s the novelty of the album for me, but I couldn’t help it. Dwight Yoakam almost singlehandedly makes country relevant again. He’s a modern cousin of the Bakersfield Sound and, though the relatives would cringe at this, he’s more sensitive and well-produced in a good way. 3 Pears has the bright punch of good country and the dark taste of great music: “But even when it’s better / It’s never alright.” The best song of the album, and probably the year, is not dark…maybe. “3 Pears” is a pun given that the first line of the song is “3 pears of glasses;” however, what the hell is he talking about? Without getting too deep into it, and with a recommendation to listen to the song and decide for yourself, my best guess is that this song is a humorous and superstitious homage to an eclipse.
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8) Wild Nothing—Nocturne: Besides the many that I will mention as such, there was perhaps no better song than “Nocturne” in 2012. The juvenile echo in the guitars mimic the hopelessly romantic theme of the song: “You can have me.” Nocturne is the same; it sounds like 14-year-olds have grown up, but are still pining after whatever and whoever they were pining after back then. Sometimes, we’re all the same. I’m not sure what to call this ubiquitous genre of our day: Shoegarage? Garagegaze? In any case, the album isn’t only fun, it’s thought provoking. Like a good novel, Nocturne is one piece of a larger puzzle, but it seems like it contains it all.
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7) Mac Demarco—2: This is music for the mind on vacation, and I like vacation. Like most, I didn’t know anything about Mac Demarco until I was turned onto his two albums this year by a friend. When I put on “Cooking Up Something Good,” I wasn’t sure if I’d stumbled upon a warped, unreleased Bradley Nowell outtake. I was intrigued by the laid back filial, micro-geographical lyrics of the first few lines: “Mommy’s in the kitchen, cooking up something good /
And daddy’s on the sofa, pride of the neighborhood / My brother’s in the ballet, it seems he’s got it set.” They are reminiscent of Dylan’s “Tombstone Blues” or Cheap Trick’s “Surrender.” Maybe we have a new genre on our hands. The standout track is the dreamy “Ode to Viceroy” and “Together” is honesty at its flightiest.
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6) Bob Dylan—Tempest: The Titanic didn’t go down because of a typhoon, but the hail and turbulence of life is always preferred to drowning in the freezing ocean. I won’t defend this pick on the basis of bias for a legend. I’m not the one who snubbed Scorsese for Raging Bull. Given the chance, I would have put Blonde on Blonde at least #9 on my 1966 list. Tempest is fun and soulful and sad; it’s the voice of a man reflecting on the storm because he’s found shelter. Admittedly, I thought the old man had gone soft after listening to the first few bars of “Duquesne Whistle,” but it turns out it’s as delightful as the wistful romantic disaster in the video. I’ve already written about “Long and Wasted Years,” but its greatness always deserves mention. Furthermore, Dylan might have outdone James Cameron (I’m not sure whose depiction of Leo is best) in describing the sadness of the Titanic’s sinking in “Tempest.” Also great and sad is “Roll on John,” Dylan’s musically accurate tribute to John Lennon. I should mention that The Tempest was Shakespeare’s last play…
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5) Leonard Cohen—Old Ideas: I’ll refer you here. I love Leonard.
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4) Beach House—Bloom: The most astute thing anyone ever said to me about Beach House is that if they make another album that sounds like the rest of their albums, it’s going to be one too many. It’s true because they said it after this one came out. Many would argue that it’s already too much, but I disagree. On Bloom, the sound is as nuanced as ever and the vocal melodies are that much more developed. “On the Sea” is not a musical revelation, but the melody meanders in such a way that if finds that singular place in the mind for such astral-marine summonings. The end of “Myth” is likewise enchanting with its quiet urgency. There are limitations in creating music that can only conjure one mood. For Beach House, Bloom is that beautiful limit.
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3) Father John Misty—Fear Fun: J. Tillman is all grown up. With plenty of spiritual namedropping, he’s now Father John Misty. Maybe it’s my love of Los Angeles or my greater love of baseball references in music, maybe it’s my long lost love of Devendra Banhart or my own journey to imitate him as an eighteen-year-old songwriter, but this album does it for me. Its one knock: it’s boring. It is at times because of the unvaried instrumentation, but the sheer personality of it and the inventive aura make it well worthwhile. “Only Son of the Ladiesman” is brilliant; “Everyman Needs a Companion” is the smartest song of the year. If you were looking to pray at a musical alter in 2012, Father John Misty’s is second only, perhaps, to Leonard Cohen’s.
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2) Fiona Apple—The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do: Fiona Apple has been regarded as the missing link between mainstream pop and indie music. I don’t care much about evolution when I hear “Werewolf,” but maybe I should because its lyrics are so concerned with the smallness and history of all things—including choppy careers and failed relationships. I’m inclined not to write too much, as the album’s title did most of the work for me in this paragraph. Plus, I already wrote about “Every Single Night” when it came out as a single. Apple harnesses the rogue melodic philosophy of Joni Mitchell, and she makes it seem cooler. The Idler Wheel is a way more urban version of Blue, an album that was never approached in vision in 2012.
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1) Dirty Projectors—Swing Lo Magellan: The impregnable question, for me, was never if this was the best album of the year, but how it would be regarded in five or ten or twenty years. That may be overstating it, especially because I was never the most serious Dirty Projectors fan. However, when you compile the great moments from this album, of which there are at least one on every song, the question remains. This is, above all else, a rock album. Its energy, speed and dedication to constant entertainment are unrivaled this past year. Dirty Projectors are often victims of hatred because of the rambling, warbling nature of David Longstreth’s vocal tendencies. He might not have the pipes of Freddie Mercury, but the insistence and phrasing are there—see “Offspring Are Blank.” Speaking of songs, “Impregnable Question” is surely the worst named love song and still the best one this year; “Irresponsible Tune” is a marvelous introspection. Swing Lo Magellan makes you feel its proximity, like the old Portuguese’s cracked wooden hull might even be too low.
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Other good ones:
Neil Young & Crazy Horse—Psychedelic Pill
Mount Eerie—Clear Moon
Merchandise—Children of Desire
Spiritualized—Sweet Heart Sweet Light
Titus Andronicus—Local Business
DIIV—Oshin
Japandroids—Celebration Rock
Cat Power—Sun
Make Every Song 