Thursday, December 25, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Best CDs of 2003

Mike Prevatt

(listed in alphabetical order)

Basement Jaxx, Kish Kash. A sinisterly playful bastardization of disco and punk that ranks as the English duo's best work.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Take Them On, On Your Own. Less derivative, more crafted, better written and all-around superior than its 2001 debut, this raging rockfest sees BRMC living up to the hype.

The Bronx, The Bronx. They, reckless. You, breathless. This Hollywood garagecore upstart's debut will leave you battered--literally, if you catch them live.

Idlewild, The Remote Part. Those of you missing the old U2 and R.E.M. would do yourself a favor to pick up this underexposed, anthem-heavy gem.

The Postal Service, Give Up. Electronic music on indie rock's terms--charming, unassuming and soothingly pulsating.

Radiohead, Hail to the Thief. Rock's reigning kings perfectly balance experimentation with affecting songwriting. More, please.

Damien Rice, O. Shortlist Music Prize winner and Irish folkie builds upon the singer-songwriter tradition of Elliott Smith and Badly Drawn Boy's Damon Gough.

The Strokes, Room on Fire. N.Y.'s finest didn't stray far from the template--and my copy hasn't strayed from the stereo since I got it.

Rufus Wainwright, Want One. Clean and sober, Wainwright emerges from "gay hell" with his grandest, most personal statement.

The White Stripes, Elephant. When the Vines and Jet finally sputter out, the Strokes finally lay down their first bum note and the Hives get over themselves, Meg and Jack will be the last ones standing. As influential-sounding as it is influenced.

Special prize: OutKast, Speakerboxxx/The Love Below. This probably would be the best album of the year had it--like so many hip-hop albums, both good and bad--not been weighed down by so much filler. However, the Atlanta-based duo's equivalent to the Beatles' White Album is one of the most imaginative and daring albums of recent memory, venturing into old soul, new rock, psychedelica, funk, techno and jazz without unraveling. A sonic landmark.

Other memorable efforts of 2003: Lucinda Williams, World Without Tears; The Stratford 4, Love and Distortion; String Cheese Incident, Untying the Not; South, With the Tides; Death in Vegas, Scorpio Rising; The Dandy Warhols, Welcome to the Monkey House; The Shins, Chutes Too Narrow; The Mars Volta, De-loused in the Comatorium; Various Artists, Lost in Translation.

Top five electronic mix albums: James Zabiela, Sound in Motion; Deep Dish, Global Underground: Toronto; Pete Tong, Essential Selection; DJ Icey, Different Day; Desyn and Luke Fair, In House We Trust 3.

Geoff Schumacher

1. The White Stripes, Elephant. Second place doesn't come close to Jack White's genius. History will consider this one of the all-time great rock albums.

2. The Black Keys, Thickfreakness. Rollicking Delta blues with a hard rock edge by two nerdy-looking white dudes from Ohio. Believe it.

3. Ryan Adams, lloR N kcoR. He does rock as well or better than alt-country.

4. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Take Them On, On Your Own. The premier new garage band. Nothing sounds better during a late-night Beltway run.

5. The Distillers, Coral Fang. Tasty female-fronted Nirvana homage.

6. Drive-By Truckers, Coronation Day. Country, folk, rock--whatever this is, it's really good and honest.

7. The Shins, Chutes Too Narrow. Truly beautiful indie rock by smart, talented guys from Albuquerque who aren't trying to impress anybody in a shiny suit.

8. Kings of Leon, Youth & Young Manhood. The second best new garage band.

9. Fountains of Wayne, Welcome Interstate Managers. Making fun pop safe for hipsters again.

10. Neil Young, Greendale. The Man does a concept album, and pulls it off.

Best of the rest: 11. Mando Diao, Bring 'Em In, 12. Iggy Pop, Skull Ring, 13. Supagroup, Supagroup, 14. John Mellencamp, Trouble No More, 15. Radiohead, Hail to the Thief, 16. The Libertines, Up the Bracket, 17. Van Morrison, What's Wrong with This Picture?, 18. Lucinda Williams, World Without Tears, 19. The Kills, Keep on Your Mean Side, 20. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Fever to Tell, 21. The New Pornographers, Electric Version, 22. Electric Six, Fire, 23. Jet, Get Born, 24. The Strokes, Room on Fire, 25. Rooney, Rooney.

Most disappointing: The Strokes, Room on Fire.

Everybody is raving about it and it probably should be on my list but I haven't heard it: Outkast, Speakerboxxx/The Love Below.

Almost surely will be added to my 2003 list once I can afford to buy the five-disc set: Johnny Cash, Unearthed.

Best reissue: Television, Marquee Moon.

Just say no: The Darkness, Permission to Land.

Andrew Kiraly

1. Strapping Young Lad, SYL. Who'd've thought Canada would produce one of the best heavy metal bands of the Aughts? SYL is a blood-soaked wrecking ball o' fun. Never heavy for heavy's sake--well, okay, maybe in a few dozen places--SYL nevertheless doesn't scrimp on hole-borer grooves and ether-bound riffing seshes, either.

2. Mastodon, Remission. The sound of stoners doing a decathlon. A little math-rock, a little hesher riffing and lots of hard rock stampede.

3. Tomahawk, Mit Gas. One of Mike Patton's thousand projects; Mr. Bungle with brainy, sinister groove.

4. Lightning Bolt, Wonderful Rainbow. Imagine if you left your Norelco razor on and it learned to sing. Deep, intense, searching. Think trancey Middle Eastern zahr made with modern instruments--and a truckload of fuzz.

5. Pretty Girls Make Graves, The New Romance. Awesomely crafted, big-souled alt-pop.

6. The Blood Brothers, Burn Piano Island, Burn. Deranged post-post-rock with dual garglescreamers and a thoroughly unwholesome sensibility.

What the Hell Happened to You? Award: Cave In, Antenna. Alt-metal godlet Cave In signs to RCA and starts sounding more like Korn than Zorn. What?!

Call Sunnyvale Nursing Home Award: Iron Maiden, Metallica. Maiden's ho-hum Dance of Death and Metallica's laughably overreaching St. Anger prove it's time for these dinosaurs to pack it in and call it an epoch.

Band You Were Supposed to Like But If You Had Something Resembling a Mind of Your Own You Didn't Award: The Darkness. Stand fast against highly skilled practitioners of camp. Spiritual death lurks.

Best Album of 1987 I Found While Digging in My Desk Which I'm Surprised Hasn't Been 'Rediscovered' By Critics and Hailed Anew As a Masterpiece, or Maybe I'm Just Feeling Stupid and Nostalgic Award: Rich Kids on LSD, Rock 'n Roll Nightmare.

Newt Briggs

Best CD to woo the hoochie mamas with: Anthony Hamilton, Comin' From Where I'm From. If anyone in the world can actually coax a thong off a ghetto booty with nothing but the power of his voice, Anthony Hamilton is that man. Smoother than Teddy Pendergrass and more streetwise than Luther Vandross, Hamilton's sophomore solo LP is the musical equivalent of a white rose and a warm glass of Christian Brothers brandy. Just try to resist it.

Best CD to start a dance party for robots with: Junior Senior, D-D-Don't Don't Stop the Beat. Although there have been no official studies on the matter, it seems like nothing perks up a world-weary automaton like Junior Senior's block-rocking discocore. FYI: Works on flesh-and-blood humanoids, too.

Best CD to wear stripes with: The Thrills, So Much for the City. If you've had a hankering to wear big, fat candy stripes ever since you saw the cover of the Beach Boys' Smiley Smile, but neither disco nor new wave nor grunge nor electronica has fostered the stylistic environment for such a fashion coup, The Thrills' So Much for the City may be exactly what you've been waiting for. Just remember to accessorize with UV-rated shades. Otherwise, The Thrills' sunshine harmonies will scorch your retinas.

Best CD to tip over a police car with: Randy, Welfare Problems. Leave it to the country responsible for ABBA--and, by association, Mandalay Bay's Mamma Mia!--to also produce the music for the revolution. No disrespect to Prince, but Randy's Welfare Problems is as fun as the Ramones, as tongue-in-cheek as the Dead Kennedys and as potentially radical as The Anarchist's Cookbook.

Best CD to play 14 straight hours of XBox with: Kid Koala, Some of My Best Friends Are DJs. Kid Koala is one of those rare turntablists who seems more interested in actually making good music than in being cool or obscure or in vogue. Some of My Best Friends Are DJs combines crackling record samples, organic instruments and a sack full of sonic trickery into a goofy good time that's fun to the last pop.

Best CD to practice your falsetto with: The Darkness, Permission to Land. If there was anything that characterized '80s metal besides the gravity-defying tidal waves of hair, it was the vocals, which, at their most passionate, tended to sound like Viking opera on low-grade crank. Two decades later and with more than a hint of irony, Darkness frontman Justin Hawkins flawlessly re-creates the hair-metal formula--all the way down to the animal-print spandex and the testicle-shrinking shrieks.

Chad Lietz

In my personal efforts to restore faith in the waning domestic economy, I feel it is my patriotic duty to disclose a grave health risk facing discerning listeners here at the end of 2003, which will--I am convinced--give rise to a spike in anti-depressant sales and Oxygen Network ratings. Our current grocery list of neuroses and phobias neglect it; let's face it, the psychiatric and pharmaceutical communities just aren't trying hard enough. Since its onset following 2002's musical comedown, this new bugaboo has engendered a confused mental state somewhere between a Night Train-&-Nyquil drunk and rigor mortis. Let's simply call it post-palindrome depression (PPD).

2002 saw the release of so many great albums it seemed an unalterable inertia. But something went horribly wrong in 2003. Too few new, exciting works, too many recycled hits, albums and artists--hell, even Dylan's catalog was remasturbated in an audiophile-exclusive format. Thankfully, this year did produce a handful of admirable efforts, two of which deserve particular attention. These albums receive 2003's PPD Cure of the Year award.

Hawk and a Hacksaw, Hawk and a Hacksaw. Only the second release from artist-run Cloud Recordings, Jeremy Barnes' musique concr�te decoupage is a true headphone masterwork, comprised of classical, folk and barnyard melodies. Hacksaw realizes a burlesque vision too chancy for most to attempt; but its genius thrives on this risk. Shake off that PPD by shakin' it with your Greek grandpappy, to Hawk and a Hacksaw. Find your Old World happy place here.

The Microphones, Mount Eerie: Phil Elvrum's studio alchemy divines another nugget of pure gold, as an epic follow-up to 2001's genius The Glow, Part II. This Kubrickian concept album precisely captures the sonic essence of its hero's journey--most notably in Elvrum's faltering vocals in "The Sun," and Karl Blau and Kyle Field's Death sequence. A truly Wagernian effort--substituting treehugging transcendence for Aryan pride.

A few others to help combat those post-palindrome blues:

Ween, Quebec. Ween's always got the right pharmies--"Gimme that Z-O-L-O-F-T!"

Holopaw, Holopaw. Down-homey indie-fried goodness.

Radiohead, Hail to the Thief Sometimes it's just better to brood.

White Stripes, Elephant. Pump yer fists for peace, Motor City-style.

Tori Amos, Tales of a Librarian. A solid package of hits, B-sides and all the usual Tori-rotica guaranteed to please.

You down with PPD? Yeah...you know me.

Here's to 2004.