2011 Keepers List

For once, my year-end list took some digging. A lot of old favorites put out records, and some came up surprisingly flat. There are at least three great songs on Iron & Wine’s We Kiss Each Other Clean, but a few could use his acoustic brevity, not ornate instrumentation. Albums from the REM, the Decemberists (who essentially wrote an REM album) and Bon Iver left me cold. Plus, I shower too much praise on Tom Waits to include Bad as Me. There are rules to this.

Some nearly made the cut. I had given up on the Foo Fighters, but the consistency on Wasting Light had been missing from their recent records - White Limo could be the heaviest slab of Foo ever put to tape. The Lonely Island’s Turtleneck & Chain amused, but the album does not work without its accompanying videos, and some tracks are immediately forgotten. Wilco's return to form, The Whole Love, narrowly missed the list, but I haven't picked it up since hearing most of it live in October. I burned it up, unfortunately.

As always, I did find a highly subjective list. So read on, shake your head in disgust and wonder what I was thinking. 

Fleet Foxes, Helplessness Blues

Robin Pecknold and Company deftly dashed any haters hoping for a sophomore slump. How a 25-year-old man can pen such heartbreaking tunes about growing old, I will never know. As with their debut, I have a hard time criticizing any note here.

Various Artists/Danger Mouse, Rome

If the movie to this soundtrack ever arrives, I’ll be in line. My feelings have already gone public.

Panda Bear, Tomboy

Another year passes without a new Animal Collective record, but at least Panda Bear feted us with his distinctive vocals. You won’t miss them … as much, but Tomboy is a fine companion to his previous effort, Person Pitch.

Feist, Metals

From the first notes, it becomes clear why Leslie Feist stepped away from music for 18 months before starting from scratch for her new record. Only her voice links Metals to The Reminder and Let It Die. There’s no 1,2,3,4 on this record, only the looming apocalypse of Undiscovered First.

Low, C’mon

I’m extremely late to the Low bandwagon, but caught up in a big way throughout 2011. Not only did I buy their latest, but grabbed Long Division, Secret Names, the Great Destroyer and Christmas. With C’mon, the Duluth, Minn. band’s strengths rise up, with meditative songwriting and sweet, subdued melodies never far away.

Drive-by Truckers, Go-Go Boots

The Truckers tone down the guitars for a more muscular, stripped down sound. Recorded at the same time as The Big To-Do, Go-Go Boots is the superior record. With Cartoon Gold, Mike Cooley wrote the most poignant song including a line about dog crap. Shonna Tucker continues to improve as their third singer-songwriter – just try to hate Dancin’ Ricky. Patterson Hood never stumbles (see Ray’s Automatic Weapon and Everybody Needs Love). Their slice-of-life-on-the-darkside songwriting hits a peak on Used to be a Cop. For a band that unleashes a solid long-player every year, this album’s dusty soul vibe just struck me differently. 

Favorite vinyl reissues

Nick Lowe, Labour of Lust

I saw the man perform not once but twice this year, and his sense of pop songwriting seems to sharpen with age. Just rereleased on vinyl, Labour of Lust follows up Jesus of Cool, and like the latter, teaches a clinic is clean, smart songwriting.

Calexico, Road Atlas 1998-2011

This vinyl boxed set collects nine limited edition tour albums from the Arizona rocker’s history. It’s definitely for hardcore fans (like myself), but accessible to anyone enamored with cinematic rock tunes. The two live albums unveil how the band built its dedicated following, and no matter how many times Crystal Frontier appears across this set (three), you will never tire of its blistering pace.

The White Stripes,  Live in Mississippi July 31, 2007

Enough griping about Jack White. This vinyl-only record from Third Man Records Vault series chronicles the band's final show, which includes a crop of excellent blues covers, including two from Robert Johnson, and a load of old cuts. Forget that limp take on We're Gonna Be Friends on Conan O'Brien; the Stripes triumphantly end here. 

 

Late to the Party

Om, God is Good

I would be amiss if I left out some doom metal goodness. This three-song, 30-minute album adds some Middle Eastern influences to a sound that could grow stagnant incredibly fast. The bass-and-drum duo nonetheless complete a short but compelling cycle perfect for driving due south from Seattle at 5 a.m.