My night in with... Glee

from www.wordmagazine.co.uk and published in the May 2010 edition of The Word magazine...

What's it called?:

Glee

What It Sounds Like:

Autotune and teenagers with annoying inflections, unfortunately, but to dismiss it on account of that would be a mistake. Life is hard in the strictly regimented world of American high school where you're either a football player, a cheerleader or a social outcast. Luckily, for those with a desire to perform, there's the Glee club - led by the Panglossian Mr. Schuester - where no-one will judge you. On top of the fantastically choreographed routines, there are fake pregnancies, unwanted weddings, genuine laugh out loud moments and the inimitable cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester. It has all the hallmarks of a show adored by the kind of people who use the phrase, "OMG!", without a hint of irony, but it doesn't take itself too seriously and, though not exactly demanding television, it's utterly absorbing.

What Does It All "Mean"?:

It means that it's ok to be different. It means that you should embrace your individuality. It means that sometimes there's nothing better than dressing up for a good old song-and-dance. Basically, it's the Lady Gaga of TV shows.

Goes well with...:

A cosy night in on the sofa after a hard day at work. Glass of Chilean Merlot optional.

Might Suit People Who Like...:

American high school dramas, pop music and fun.

Romance Is Boring

Los Campesinos! - Romance Is Boring

released 1 February 2010 on Wichita

Growing up is rubbish, isn’t it? You finish school with no idea of the adult world and the belief that anything is possible. You think your dreams could come true, though you’ve no idea how you’re going to make it happen, but hey, you’re young and responsibility doesn’t exist for you. Then, capitalism bites and you have to start paying your way and guess what, before you know it you’ve got an office job for a multi-national corporation and your dreams get relegated to weekends. Then, you get a house and kids and your weekends are all about wallpapering and taking your offspring to jelly and ice cream laden parties where all the other parents look at tired and world-weary as you. Well, something resembling that at least…

So where do your dreams go? If you never actually sold your soul to rock n’ roll, then the time is ripe for a bit of vicarious living. Rock stars are the eternal children, the Peter Pans who never grew up and in the case of Los Campesinos!’ début album, Hold On Now, Youngster…, they were living the dream just for you. HONY… was a beautifully giddy collection of tracks, hastily thrown together and recorded by a group of people who clearly couldn’t believe they were being allowed to make an album and were worried they were going to be thrown out of the studio at any minute. Sure, it was a little rough around the edges, but it was so full of charm it won them an army of fans, something which carried on with follow-up We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed.

So, surely now the Welsh septet are feeling the harsh realities of life? Apparently there’s some sort of recession on, everyone’s finding it tough and Los Campesinos! themselves are a handful of years older. Does this mean they’ve grown up? The answer is simple: yes and no.

Luckily, you get the best of both worlds, because while Romance Is Boring still contains the youthful exuberance that set LC! apart from their peers, the lyrics show an acceptance that actions actually have consequences and they’re coupled with a more mature, even polished, sound.

Don’t worry, they haven’t turned into Coldplay. In fact, far from it. But the best example of a more grown-up song from LC! is probably the album opener, In Media Res. It’s unmistakeably Los Campesinos!, but rather than celebrating irresponsible behaviour, it’s about the negative effects of over-indulgence and not only that, there are sweeping strings to really lift it to the next level. It’s less self-consciously quirky and though not necessarily the most enjoyable song they’ve ever written, it’s certainly the best-crafted and gives a good indication of what they’re capable of achieving.

That’s the “yes” covered, now for the “no”. Los Campesinos! are known for rushing through songs at breakneck speed, and having both a male and female vocalist certainly adds to the playground call and response nature of their songs. A marked maturity pervades but they certainly haven’t forgotten where they came from, and those fantastically perky moments remain. Straight In At 101 is the frustrated cousin of first album single You! Me! Dancing! and is incredibly lyrically sharp with its first-person account of awkward teenage fumbling that never quite goes to plan. It also contains the best opening line you’ll have heard for a while, “I think we need more post-coital and less post-rock”.

Los Campesinos! aren’t afraid of experimentation either, and mix discordance, emo riffs, glockenspiels and crashing cymbals to great effect. The chanted chorus on the title track is rousing and listening to the bleeps and almost prog-like timing of We’ve Got Your Back (Documented Minor Emotional Breakdown #2)(sample lyric: “I’ve learnt more from toilet walls than I’ve learnt from these words of yours”) is like listening to a band shedding their skin and growing into themselves.

Occasionally, the well of inspiration runs a little dry, but that’s probably to be expected when you record three albums is two years. Plan A is, to these ears at least, little more than noise, and the album does tend to peter out with little of particular note - the stellar This Is A Flag. There Is No Wind excepted. Mind you, you’d be a fool not to fall for a song that’s opening line is an impassioned chant of “Can’t we all please just calm the fuck down?!”.

Romance Is Boring is fun, knowing, astute, energetic and packed with vignettes of youth and love lost. Whereas Hold On Now, Youngster… was, perhaps in retrospect, a little too naïve with any slower portions feeling as if they were there just for a breather rather than to add to the overall ambience,Romance Is Boring is a proper album from a band who have grown and know what they’re doing. Listen to it while selecting ceiling paint in your local hardware store, or while driving your middle child to piano practice or maybe, just maybe, listen to it while doing whatever the hell you want to do.

IRM

Charlotte Gainsbourg - IRM

released 25 January on Because Music

You may know her as Serge’s little girl. Or perhaps you’re more familiar with her acting and have seen her in Antichrist… or The Science of Sleep… or Ma Femme Est Une Actrice. Or maybe to you she’s Jane Birkin’s daughter. Hey, possibly you only know her for her music and fell in love with her ethereal 2006 album, 5:55. But with so many fingers in so many pies, who actually is Charlotte Gainsbourg?

Well, musically at least, it would seem she isn’t too sure either. Début album, Charlotte For Ever, from 1986, was written by her father, French perv-pop legend, Serge, and 5:55 was primarily the work of Air and Jarvis Cocker, with a bit of Neil Hannon thrown in for good measure. Now, IRM has all songs bar one written and produced by everyone’s favourite Danish Scientologist, Beck. This career trajectory alone could mean Gainsbourg struggles to be taken seriously as a recording artist. However, she appears to act as a muse for a variety of people and as such, gets the breaks many singers would give their right arm for. Mind you, Daddy being so highly revered throughout the music world can’t exactly hurt.

That’s not meant to sound bitter, misogynist or conceited because as long as no animals are harmed during the process, who cares about anything so long as the tunes are good? Life’s too short for hipsterish concerns of authenticity and meaningfulness. It’s a subjective medium; that’s how it goes.

Having said all that, it’s unfortunate that IRM is a bloated, self-congratulatory, directionless mess of an album. The mechanics and the back-story aren’t everything, but it’s preferable to believe our singers aren’t just puppets on strings and actually have some say in what goes on their records. Gainsbourg’s level of involvement in IRM is unknown, of course, and any viewpoint held by the listener is speculative at best, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if a press release came out stating that Gainsbourg just turned up on recording day and sang Beck’s words off an autocue.

It makes the task of the reviewer somewhat more complex to report that, for an awful lot of the record, IRMis just dull. 5:55 may have been laid-back, but this just sounds disinterested. La Collectionneuse is atonal,Time of the Assassins has Gainsbourg’s voice buried so deep in the mix it’s barely audible and, weirdly, on Me and Jane Doe, her voice sounds noticeably flat. Lyrically, Beck appears otherwise engaged, tossing away a bunch of clichés and half-phrases, sometimes with a nod to The Beatles (“find happiness from a gun”) or, on one occasion, just blatantly copying The Fab Four (“looking through a glass onion”).

The more listenable tracks on IRM tend to be more interesting than enjoyable, but there are a handful worthy of further investigation. Heaven Can Wait (a duet with Beck) was an obvious candidate for lead single and is certainly a toe-tapper while Le Chat du Café des Artistes (the only song not penned by Beck) would fit snugly on 5:55. The title track is the most alluring of the collection and sounds not dissimilar to Portishead’s powerful Machine Gun. "IRM" is the French initialism for an MRI scanner and the album is so-called due to Gainsbourg’s recent health scare (she suffered a brain haemorrhage in 2007). The title track apes the sounds of hospitals and machines to great effect, capturing the feeling of fear and claustrophobia perfectly.

What stands out most about IRM, though, is the lack of focus. Beck, or possibly Gainsbourg, herself, can’t seem to work out which path to follow and what the album should sound like. Thus, we have quasi-5:55 tracks, songs that sound a bit like Beck, wheezing country, French traditional chanteuse-style numbers and, most bafflingly of all, an ill-advised two-song excursion into garage rock. Sounding like a second-rate Kills or a Raveonettes without the fun, Gainsbourg embarrassingly postures her way throughTrick Pony and Greenwich Mean Time. It may give IRM a much-needed kick up the backside, but it’s unconvincing, tinny, and when Gainsbourg sings the word “chou-fleur” in an English accent, it’s pretty much time to pack up and go home.

It’s fair to say that “underwhelmed” is the word that most springs to mind with IRM. It’s not a completely futile exercise - there are some decent tracks - but it falls far short of the quality of its predecessor. After discussing accusations of nepotism earlier, it now sounds hypocritical to say you’d expect better from someone with such heritage, but that’s how it feels. There’s a fantastic album inside Charlotte Gainsbourg, or, given her discography, perhaps it would be more accurate to say there’s a fantastic Charlotte Gainsbourg album inside someone else. Here’s hoping it’s found soon.

Falling Down a Mountain

Tindersticks - Falling Down a Mountain

released 25 January 2010 on 4AD

It can’t be easy; critically-lauded at the start of your career, then just a handful of years later, you’re largely ignored by the music press and almost considered a niche interest. What do you do, exactly? Do you just carry on doing what you were doing before, in the aim of finding whatever it was that propelled you to such lofty heights in the first place? Or do you change completely, hoping that your new-found direction will earn you some kudos for not resting on your laurels?

That’s been the dilemma facing Tindersticks since the late 20th Century, and it’s an extremely unfair position for them to be in. Almost victims of their own success, their opening trilogy of albums (self-titled releases in both 1993 and 1995, and 1997’s Curtains) were irresistible baroque chamber-pop, full of surprises and, unusually, never outstayed their welcome at over an hour. However, the world moved on and since Tindersticks didn’t see fit to re-invent the wheel, the world also largely lost interest. After Waiting for the Moon in 2003, they called it a day, only to return in 2008 with The Hungry Saw, but only half the original band.

History lesson over, what’s Falling Down a Mountain actually like? In a nutshell, it’s a triumph as well as being probably the least Tindersticks-esque (maybe that should be “Tindersticksian”?) album of their career. The core ingredients are still there: Stuart Staples’ polarising, treacle-rich baritone, beautifully haunting string arrangements and the pervading sense of disappointment and loss. However, add to this a willingness to diversify and be imaginative, and Tindersticks are once more extremely deserving of your time.

Take the title-track, for example, which also happens to be the album opener. Fractured percussion gives way to freeform-jazz saxophone and repeated chanting. While Tindersticks may be primarily known for their lush instrumentation, this is stark, spacious, primal and utterly thrilling. Keep You Beautiful is disarmingly gorgeous, creeping in barely noticed on a gossamer-thin riff; it’s warm, comforting and everything the title track isn’t, but equally affecting.

Keep You Beautiful would in fact fit perfectly on a film soundtrack - if you hear it on a montage of the female lead going about her day, it’s pretty clear it’s only a matter of time before our hero gets the girl. Once you’ve noticed how suited to cinema scores this track is, it’s difficult not to put most of this album as backing music to films that don’t even exist. She Rode Me Down is coming soon to a spaghetti-Western near you (when the flute flutters in, it even sounds like Morricone’s The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly), Factory Girls is a tender, piano-heavy ballad that would be an ideal bed for a tale of success against the odds and the unexpected major chords of Hubbards Hills would compliment a tale of courage and redemption.

This may well be damning Falling Down a Mountain with faint praise. Tindersticks’ music has always been broad in scope with a cinematic feel, but it just seems here that they’re maturing into a more well-rounded band. No longer so heavily reliant on the dramatic brooding that characterised much of their early-90s work, they’re in danger of becoming national treasures on this form.

It’s not a complete win for the boys from Nottingham, unfortunately. Falling Down a Mountain is fairly Side-A heavy, with two or three of the later tracks disappointingly unremarkable, where only Stuart Staples’ smoky vocals carrying some non-descript arrangements. Despite this, it’s an extremely listenable record and definitely fit to stand aside their finest work. It’s an impressive achievement seeing as Falling Down a Mountain is album #8 of a career just shy of twenty years and a depressingly large proportion of bands are phoning it in by that point. With another album (a soundtrack to the upcoming White Material) due later in 2010, it appears Tindersticks have gained a second wind and have answered the questions posed above. Forget the press, forget the criticism and forget those who ignore you. When you make an album this good, you don’t need to care.

The Best of the Decade: 10-1

I've decided to run down my Top 50 albums of the decade that's just passed. I love a list as much as anyone (in fact, probably more) and it was something to focus on in the dearth of new music post-Christmas. Some of the paragraphs are in the style of press releases, some attempt to put into words what makes an album so special, others have a personal experience that make them important to me and any could have spelling and grammar mistakes. It really was a case of go with what you feel on this one...

1: The Dears - No Cities Left (Bella Union/2003)

Maybe not an obvious choice but one I’m more than willing to stand by. Occasionally part of a song is fantastic and will stop you in your tracks, on rarer occasions it’s an entire song which is truly exceptional, but then there’s that time where an album catches you in the right place at the right time and truly floors you. The Dears never really captured the imagination of the UK; frequently being judged as inferior to the similar-sounding Blur or The Smiths. However, No Cities Left is simply magical from start to finish. This is a sound of a band putting their blood, sweat and tears into a record and is surely their creative peak. Head Dear Murray Lightburn croons his way through twelve tracks that range from the beautiful and timid to the all-out crunching riffs and wall of guitars of Lost in the Plot. It’s not difficult to see where the Smiths comparisons come from, as Lightburn does his best Morrissey impression on The Second Part (“It rained all day/I don’t… have a raincoat… of my own”) but this record is far more than the sum of its influences. 22: The Death of All the Romance charts the heartbreaking end of a relationship and pours salt into its still-raw wounds, Expect the Worst/’Cos She’s a Tourist takes in pizzicato string quartets before melding them to dream-like woozy pop and Pinned Together, Falling Apart begins in what is apparently an explosion in a drum factory. Startingly ambitious, never dull and far, far better than ever given credit for, No Cities Left is a treat for the ears and should be investigated further by everyone, me included. It always offers something new on each listen, it really does run that deep. Forget everything else you may know of The Dears or may have heard since, No Cities Left stands alone as true genius, a masterpiece, a perfect example of why music is so loved and, undoubtedly, the finest record of this past decade.

2: Radiohead: In Rainbows (self-released/2007)

What with all the hoopla surrounding the “honesty box” method of payment and means of distribution for In Rainbows, it’s surprising the music got a look in at all. Radiohead being Radiohead, however, had an ace up their sleeve and had put together their best album of a long and distinguished career. The Bends is too straightforward, OK Computer often leaves me cold, but In Rainbows is the definitive Radiohead record, combining the rock of their 1990s work with the experimentalism of Kid A. From the scattergun drums of opening track, 15 Step, it’s clear this is no ordinary record. Thom Yorke’s lyrics may be a collection of half-phrases, idioms and proverbs but here it suits the nature of the music to perfection. Bodysnatchers is the finest straight-up rock song Radiohead ever wrote, and Nude is curiously uplifting and deeply affecting with its backwards sections. Whilst All I Need displays vulnerability and a glimpse into Radiohead’s world, Jigsaw Falling Into Place is the star of the show, morphing from claustrophobic riffs into a loose but thrilling track. It’s interesting to note that for all their concepts, patterns and tricks, the career-defining Radiohead album is the one where they simply wrote a collection of indisputably amazing songs.

3: The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love (Rough Trade/2009)

It shouldn’t work: in the age of single-track downloads and short attention spans, The Decemberists release a concept album with a complex narrative arc, repeated themes and no gaps between the tracks. It shouldn’t work, but my word, it most certainly does. From an unremarkable beginning, The Hazards of Love builds and builds into something truly extraordinary and unrelenting. When you think the music can’t build any more, in comes a riff, a vocal, a drum fill or all three to confound your expectations. In typical Decemberists’ fashion, the lyrical themes fixate on death but there’s loss, regret and haunting thrown into the mix here too. The Rake’s Song tells of a man’s decision to murder his offspring following the death of their mother in childbirth, propelled along by the most thumping percussion you’ll hear in music today. Backing vocals transform The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid into something ethereal and majestic while (spoiler alert!) the villain getting his comeuppance in the end is as satisfying and thrilling as any book or film. That’s what The Decemberists do best - take the literary and set it to thrilling music and here, they’ve never done it better.

4: Radiohead - Kid A (Parlophone/2000)

It’s all been done, right? The Beatles wrote the rule book, smashed the system and then a handful of innovators have truly done something completely new in the field of popular music. That may have looked the case but Kid A was something even the most fervent Radiohead fan couldn’t have anticipated. There’s a school of thought that says this album is more influential than listenable, more to be appreciated than enjoyed, and it’s difficult to totally refute that - you wouldn’t put it on to impress a date, for example. But Kid A truly transcends the boundaries of popular music; it’s the sound of being alive in the 21st Century. Clocks tick, hearts beat, there’s the sturm und drang of industry, clicks, glitches, warmth, and there’s also melodies too. Some of the sounds made on this record seem perfect to soundtrack film of foetuses on the womb, so the appeal of this album could somehow be evolutionary, but repeated listens show Radiohead know what they’re doing and they remembered to include songs to go with it. Idioteque is beguiling, stark and primal, How to Disappear Completely swirls and sucks you in, while Everything in Its Right Place seems to invent patterns of chords and notes you’ve never heard before. Of all the records on this list, Kid A will be the one that sounds most relevant, fresh, vital and ground-breaking in fifty years’ time, just like it does today and just like it always has done.

5: Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid (Fiction/2008)

Nice guys don’t always have to finish last, and here’s the proof. Years of slog and toil and three albums of being nearly-men all seemed to be worth it when Elbow really hit the big time with the release of The Seldom Seen Kid. Critical acclaim, sales and the Mercury prize followed and general consensus said it couldn’t have happened to nicer people. Of course, that’s not particularly pertinent to the record's overall quality, but it certainly makes for a better story. What separates Elbow from the crowd is Guy Garvey, with his sweet, sentimental voice and extraordinary way with a phrase - he has a knack for saying what you’ve always felt, but never even knew you wanted to express. The Seldom Seen Kid displays naked emotion from the opening of Starlings (cautious build-up followed by the best horn stabs this side of disco) and oddly, makes you root for the band you’re listening to. Windswept and carrying the battle scars of life, The Seldom Seen Kid is a lament to a lost friend, a beautiful union and inspirationally wonderful.

6: Arcade Fire - Funeral (Rough Trade/2005)

Well, they repeatedly play this one note for a few bars, then it breaks into the whole band singing la-la-la. Have you ever tried to explain to someone why the beginning of Wake Up is so uplifting? The moment the voices break through is one of those moments that gets you every time, yet the ingredients that make it up are so simple. This is why Funeral is so peculiar; there’s nothing in its make-up that suggests it should be one of the albums of the decade, but Arcade Fire are clearly playing because they love it. And also, why is an album fixated on death and loss so life-affirming? Maybe it’s because Arcade Fire sounded like the gang you wanted to be in, they’re the Not-So-Secret Seven and it’s them against the world with their harmonies and baroque pop from another time. You get to know them and the bittersweet ending of Funeral, In The Backseat, peels back any barrier that may still remain and becomes one of the most gut-wrenching songs you’ll ever hear. A stellar album, victory was theirs, and we were there to enjoy it with them.

7: Tindersticks - Waiting for the Moon (Beggar’s Banquet/2003)

Tindersticks’ first three albums (two called Tindersticks and one called Curtains) were so critically acclaimed, it seemed everyone was suffering from Tindersticks fatigue afterwards and they’ve been largely ignored since. It’s a crying shame; Waiting for the Moon was the album that introduced me to Tindersticks and has become one of the great lost records of the 21st Century. Admittedly, they don’t break the mould - the women are still always glamorous and unobtainable, the cigarette always lit and the glass (of whiskey, naturally) always half-empty, but it doesn’t mean Waiting for the Moon is anything but a work of staggering beauty. The album creeps in almost unnoticed with Until the Morning Comes, where Stuart Staples sounds half on the verge of tears and half of the verge of murder. 4:48 Psychosis is deeply evocative and unsettling and Sometimes It Hurts is a lush ballad fit to stand along career-highpoint, Buried Bones. Where Waiting for the Moon really comes into its own, though, is the seven-minute epic, My Oblivion. It’s classic Tindersticks; it’s languid, it’s drenched in strings, it’s mournful, it’s yearning and it’s utterly, utterly breathtaking.

8: Kings of Convenience - Riot on an Empty Street (Source/2004)

If producing an album of largely acoustic, quasi-pastoral pop, you need to have a trick or two up your sleeve just to keep it interesting. In which case, Kings of Convenience proved that they’re veritable magicians with the release of Riot on an Empty Street. Bubbling with intrigue and mystery, the understated, almost disinterested vocals of Erland Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe (and, on occasion, Feist) are perfectly married to the delicate sunshine melodies and intricate finger-picking. Understated, sparse and gorgeous, Riot on an Empty Street is 45 minutes where you can get lost and just absorb what’s coming out of the speakers. Reminiscent of Simon and Garfunkel in their pomp, whether performing lingering ballads (The Build Up) or uptempo, perky pop (I’d Rather Dance with You), Kings of Convenience are always compelling.

9: Midlake - The Trials of Van Occupanther (Bella Union/2006)

Fleet Foxes took a host of plaudits for their eponymous début and while it’s a fine album, it’s hard to not feel like Midlake had been cheated somewhat. Two years before Fleet Foxes was The Trials of Van Occupanther; an album which also expertly blended the folk-rock of Crosby, Stills and Nash with the 21st Century, but did so with stronger melodies, finer song structures and more evocative lyrics. Case in point, the corking opener, Roscoe, which chugs along on a steady piano and guitar base before throwing in drum fills and angular licks that give it a whole new dimension. Witness also Head Home, the best 1970s country-rock classic there never was and Young Bride, with its sweet melody that comes from nowhere and its repeated vocal coda accompanied only by strings. At its heart, though, was a distillation of everything great and good from its influences, leading to an album with an irresistible pull. Someone once said that they best bands live in their own universe, and on the evidence of The Trials of Van Occupanther, Midlake’s 19th Century America is a fantastic one to inhabit.

10: Dan Le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip - Angles (Sunday Best Recordings/2008)

It doesn’t quite seem right that the most inventive, witty and interesting hip-hop album of the decade came from darkest Essex, but maybe Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip (they tend to collaborate rather than face-off, despite what their name suggests) were simply more hungry than everyone else. Pip certainly seems so as he furiously spits rhymes on The Beat That My Heart Skipped; a track whose tempo seems to suit his flow to a tee as he veers from quintessential Englishman to hip-hop connoisseur, sometimes in the same couplet (“Oh, Good God, damn, and other such phrases/Haven’t heard a beat like this for ages”). Angles isn’t afraid to take on the topics not often covered in rap either - there’s religion (Letter from God to Man), suicide (Magician’s Assistant) and, of course, the life and death of Tommy Cooper (Tommy C). These can pale into insignificance though, when compared to what is possibly the single of the decade: Thou Shalt Always Kill. Detractors will point to the fact it’s contradictory (it provides a list of stars whose names are not to be taken in vain in one verse, and instructs you not to put stars on pedestals the next) but it brought something back into pop that’s been sorely missed - humour. Endlessly quotable lines (today’s favourite is “thou shalt not express your shock at the fact that Sharon got off with Brad at the club last night by saying, “is it?””), heavy beats and a helping of bleeps that sound as if they come from a Nintendo Game Boy circa 1992, it’s the peak of a fantastic album and above all, FUN!

The Best of the Decade: 20-11

11: Lambchop - OH (Ohio) (City Slang/2008)

Like UK soundalikes Tindersticks, Lambchop are a perennially misunderstood band. Dismissed for being “miserable” or “depressing”, their songs in reality shine with heartbreaking beauty and are packed with desert-dry humour. It may not be critically considered their finest work, but Lambchop hit their critical peak with their most recent LP. Perfect for night-time listening, this collection of torch songs is stop-you-in-your-tracks astounding. Kurt Wagner is in fine voice, crackling with aching on Hold of You, a track where Wagner’s singing is so attention-grabbing, a mundane opening line (“This pencil’s got a nice feel to it”) is transformed into something otherworldly and full of pathos. Oh, and of course, any album with a track called National Talk Like a Pirate Day is automatically a winner.

12: Bright Eyes - I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning (Saddle Creek/2005)

Fans had always claimed Conor Oberst aka Bright Eyes was ambitious, but until 2005 it appeared they were confusing it with “prolific”, and that’s not always a good thing. Then, Bright Eyes released two albums simultaneously: one of cold electronica (Digital Ash in a Digital Urn) and this alt-country belter. And ambitious it was too - you don’t duet with Emmylou Harris and rework Beethoven’s Ode to Joy unless you have supreme confidence in your own abilities. I’m Wide Awake… shows that confidence wasn’t misguided as this largely acoustic album really packs a punch. The slide guitar melds perfectly with Harris’ voice on We Are Nowhere and It’s Now, and solitude is crystallised in the affecting Lua. It’s also the only Bright Eyes album where you really feel you’re getting an insight into Oberst’s role as reluctant indie poster boy and thankfully, he has the good grace to put some grand instrumentation behind it all.

13: The Postal Service - Give Up (Sub Pop/2003)

Along with the BBC and the NHS, the Royal Mail are a fantastic public service that should never be allowed to die. They strike, they’re often late and they sometimes lose your letters, but if you want to send a postcard 300 miles, see how far you get on less than 50p. Luckily, the American postal service didn’t lose any of the demos and tracks sent back and forth by Jimmy Tamborello and Ben Gibbard which made Give Up. Famously created while its two protagonists were miles apart, Give Up has the smell of obsessive bedroom musician all over it, such is its attention to detail. Every click, tone and buzz sounds like it’s been meticulously pored over for hours and gives an edge to a collection of otherwise unremarkable pop melodies. We Will Become Silhouettes adds a human, vulnerable edge to the robo-pop of Kraftwerk and, along with the rest of Give Up, spearheaded the indietronica explosion in the middle of the decade. Exceptionally popular and enduring (single Such Great Heights was top of last.fm’s most-played chart for nigh on a year), Give Up is a great example of when collaborations really, really work.

14: Belle and Sebastian - Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant (Jeepster/2000)

Unloved, neglected, forgotten - that’s the attitude towards the album that no-one calls FYHCYWLAP for short. Admittedly, it’s predecessor - 1998’s The Boy With the Arab Strap - was superior, but Fold Your Hands… is still well-worthy of your consideration. Considerably darker and more morose than the rest of B&S’s oeuvre, it’s the sound of a relationship at its most strained. Isobel Campbell left the band under a cloud after this album but, whisper it quietly, this album contains some of the best work of a fine career and represents the last of their nervous, über-indie records. Nice Day for a Sulk is bouncy, throwaway fun and in stark contrast to the previous track, the genuinely harrowing The Chalet Lines. However, despite its subject matter and behind-the-scenes falling apart, this is an album to cherish and enjoy. The Model showcases that B&S do wry humour better than anyone and There’s Too Much Love closes the album by making you feel it’ll all be ok in the end. Definitely due some kind of re-appraisal, if you let one badly-titled record into your life today, make it this one.

15: Scott Matthews - Passing Stranger (San Remo/2006)

Wolverhampton-based singer-songwriter releases début album of Eastern-tinged acoustic folk? Be still, my beating heart! But Passing Stranger manages to break free from hundreds of identikit men clogging up the music biz through the sheer strength of Matthews' songwriting and love for his craft. Those Eastern influences also give an additional dimension that you don’t often find on albums originating in the West Midlands. Dream Song, in particular, is given a little extra something from a touch of sitar, and the slide guitar which pervades other tracks doesn’t exactly harm them. Like anyone with an acoustic guitar, a suspicion of a folk influence and a touch of soul in their voice, Jeff Buckley and Nick Drake comparisons have been made, but on the evidence of Passing Stranger, that may actually be justified.

16: The Go! Team - Thunder, Lightning, Strike (Memphis Industries/2004)

The music industry is a hype machine; a big, fat, stinking hype machine. But every now and then, something comes out of nowhere and reminds you why you fell in love with the art of organised sound in the first place. Enter Thunder, Lightning, Strike - a cut n’ paste album which is simply tremendous FUN! Horns parp, samples fit together seamlessly and the tracks sound as if they would be played on a never-invented 80s children’s TV show (though maybe that train of thought comes from the fact one track is called Junior Kickstart). This is dance music that isn’t self-conscious, hip-hop that doesn’t acknowledge gangsta rap (surely one of the weakest genres of recent years in terms of real quality) and absolutely joyous. Head rapper Ninja sounds as if she’s having the time of her life as she dispenses rhymes about… well, not much, really, but that’s all part of the appeal. Stand-out track Bottle Rocket encapsulates The Go! Team ethos. It’s concerned with nothing but having a good time, it’s ultimately meaningless, it sounds like a riot in an instrument factory and it’s all in glorious, glorious technicolour.

17: The Sleepy Jackson - Lovers (Virgin/2003)

The best albums have your attention from the word “go”. Now, normally that means something like a great opening chorus, or a spine-tingling middle-eight but occasionally an album takes just two seconds to achieve greatness. The best opening of the 20th Century was The Flaming Lips’ The Soft Bulletin and so far, there’s nothing to touch Lovers in the 21st Century. Two strikes of a drum in quick succession precede the most uplifting note - slide guitar and strings combine to shatter any reverie you may be in and immediately pin you to the seat. Numerous listens fail to diminish its effect and I’ll say it again: the opening seconds of Good Dancers on Lovers represent the best opening to any album of the last ten years. Happily, the rest of the album is pretty darn good too. Luke Steele takes his cue from the 1970s and although he may sail close to pastiche on occasion, the quality of the writing sees him through. Tracks like Come to This and Rain Falls for Wind are truly irresistible and it’s one of those all-too-rare albums that seems to have a beginning, middle and end. Shame everything else he’s released since has been terrible then.

18: Portishead - Third (Universal/2008)

Has a track ever been more appropriately named than Portishead’s Machine Gun? It’s the musical equivalent of onomatopoeia; with the rapid-fire repetition of guitar sounding positively nihilistic. It’s examples of this appreciation of the minutiae that really mark out Third as something special and a world away from the dinner party trip-hop of Portishead’s 1990’s incarnation. There’s something curious at work, as the sounds that emanate from your speakers somehow seem to resemble language, expression, phrases and the phenomenon of life. It may sound horribly pretentious, but this record breathes. It’s a rare thing, electronica which is neither cold nor inhuman, but seems more organic than the majority of music untouched by electricity. Beth Gibbon’s fragile vocals are ideal, another instrument adding emotional fuel to the mix and when that synth riff comes in two-thirds of the way through The Rip, it’s game over. Sign me up for Pseuds’ Corner - I don’t care. Third is an example of what human artistry is capable of and what music can achieve.

19: Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (Matador/2006)

As Yo La Tengo represent everything hipster in the NY music scene, it’s easy to forget they actually make records and, on occasion, fantastic records at that. Never content to rest on their laurels, I Am Not Afraid… tackles myriad musical genres expertly while never succumbing to pastiche; something incredibly admirable considering the range of styles on display. Opening with the ten-minute feedback-drenched no-wave of Pass the Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind, you’ll be treated to horn-fuelled jaunty pop (Beanbag Chair), electro shoegaze (The Room Got Heavy), energy-fuelled garage rock (I Should Have Known Better) and piano-led ballads (Sometimes I Don’t Get You). Credit where credit’s due - this album never seems disjointed and the changes in style never forced. Inventive while maintaining pop sensbilities and easy to love - isn’t that what we all want from a record?

20: St. Vincent - Actor (4AD/2009)

St. Vincent frontwoman Annie Clark is a paradoxical figure. On one hand she seems porcelain-brittle, all cheekbones and a tiny pale frame with a sweet voice. However, put a guitar on her, and as a song builds, she transforms into a thrilling prospect; all jerky movements and discordance - a mirage you can’t take your eyes off. It’s this contrast of ideas that makes Actor the record it is; apparently the musical heir to Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. It seems sugar-sweet on the outside, but fall down the rabbit hole and it’s a bewitching, transfixing mix of nightmare strings and unexpected notes, but all sitting side by side with fantastic pop melodies and unavoidable hooks. Single Marrow was possibly the track of 2009; a dream-like opening that floated in from nowhere before giving way to Clark’s desperate pleas for salvation soundtracked by a filthy horn riff. It sounded like Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough in a fairground hall of mirrors and like most of Actor, far better in practice than in theory.

The Best of the Decade: 30-21

21: Camera Obscura - Let’s Get Out of this Country (Merge/2006)

Wily Scots Camera Obscura neatly side-stepped out of the shadow of fellow countrymen Belle and Sebastian with this career-defining album. Both Camera Obscura and B&S have shorn their fey mentality in recent years for more bombast and a move towards the mainstream but Camera Obscura have pulled it off with more style and aplomb. Opener Lloyd, I’m Ready to be Heartbroken (a response to Lloyd Cole’s Are You Ready to be Heartbroken?) is a fizzy blast of sunshine pop which races along and implores you to keep up, If Looks Could Kill is choc-full of rama-lama glitz and the title track makes small-town ennui sound great fun. Frontwoman Tracyanne Campbell has never sounded so confident and assured and with Let’s Get Out of this Country, Camera Obscura have joined the elite and written one of the pop albums of the 21st Century.

22: The Decemberists - Picaresque (Rough Trade/2005)

Picaresque is the finest example of what The Decemberists do best - putting engrossing, literary stories to music. But as well as stop-you-in-your-tracks rockers like The Infanta and Sixteen Military Wives, there are tender laments like Eli, the Barrow Boy and Of Angels and Angles. This is before even mentioning nine-minute epic, The Mariner’s Revenge Song, which tells the tale of a young sailor dedicating his life to avenging his mother’s death courtesy of her vagabond partner. Those nine minutes take in jaunty rhythms, sea shanty, waltz time and what resembles a Zorba’s Dance to produce something which couldn’t be any band but The Decemberists. Picaresque is captivating from start to finish and works almost as well as a collection of short stories as it does a phenomenal album.

23: David Ford - I Sincerely Apologise for All the Trouble I’ve Caused (Independiente/2005)

After disbanding severely under-rated power pop trio, Easyworld, David Ford branched out into the solo world with this verbosely-titled album. Rumours are Ford was unhappy with his previous record label and the direction they wanted to take Easyworld, and this is the sound of one man’s frustration and fury at modern life. Righteous anger seeps from every pore, steadily rising and rising on State of the Union as Ford attacks anyone and everyone in a surprisingly erudite fashion. Ford has other strings to his bow though, and his touching recollection of a relationship where the fire died in A Long Time Ago could melt the hardest of hearts. Since the release of I Sincerely Apologise…, Ford has been on a seemingly non-stop tour and releases his third album early in 2010.

24: CSS - Cansei de Ser Sexy (Sub Pop/2006)

What too many artists seem to forget is that music should be as much about enjoyment as anything else. For Brazilian partygoers CSS, the enjoyment of life appears to pretty much be their ethos, for Cansei de Ser Sexy is an album about the good times, however depraved they may turn out to be. This album is packed full of alcohol-fuelled lust and has no inhibitions whatsoever - it’s basically a record about parties and fucking. Patins drips with I-want-you-right-now yearning, Art Bitch is possibly the most grotesque but compelling song you’ll ever hear and the hipster-baiting Let’s Make Love and Listen to Death From Above is one of the singles of the decade; if you don’t dance to it, check in and pick up your own death certificate. Refreshingly free of pretension and revelling in its own trashiness, Cansei de Ser Sexy is a blast of a good-time album.

25: Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Fever to Tell (Fiction/2003)

Sometimes, you should believe the hype. In a post-Strokes world, it would’ve been easy to write off YYYs as another über-trendy New York band for the critics to get themselves in a tizzy about. Their début EP then showed promise (particularly the fantastic single, Bang) but Fever to Tell was even better than anyone expected. The first half of the album disappears in a blur as Karen O shrieks, purrs and yelps her way around Nick Zinner’s jagged riffs - each track exuding confidence, bluster and raw sex appeal. It’s easy to see why Karen O has become such an icon with her unique sense of style and withering putdowns of men who aren’t up to scratch. But before Fever to Tell becomes in danger of coming over all riot-grrrl, cracks begin to show in the façade. The tracks become slower and more introspective, culminating in the sonically stunning Maps, where O appears to be on the edge of tears as she insists “they don’t love you like I love you”. Imagine that, a lead singer who can carry the band, rock with the best of them but still reveal their human side. Fever to Tell announced to the world that a star had arrived.

26: Easyworld - Kill the Last Romantic (Jive/2004)

Ah, Easyworld. We all have our bands who we believe never got the attention, praise and sales they deserved and Easyworld are one of mine. Their début, This is Where I Stand, was rough around the edges but hinted at more to come. Kill the Last Romantic delivered on that promise, but in an unexpected fashion. Rather than build upon the power-pop sound they were known for, KTLR was a more grown-up pop record, using a wider range of instruments and featuring the odd piano ballad. Detractors may label it AOR, but it was every bit as enjoyable as its predecessor, but now with added pathos. 2nd Amendment is a 3-minute four-to-the-floor epic, Drive charts the helplessness of growing up almost perfectly and ‘Til the Day is that rarest of things - a declaration of undying love you can actually believe in. Kill the Last Romantic also has a couplet to stir the heart for bookends. When the final track (aptly titled Goodbye) builds and builds, the cymbals crash and make way for the same lines that open the album, it’s a spine-tingling moment up there with any album of the last decade.

27: The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (Warner/2002)

Nobody familiar with the Lips’ self-destructive, drug-fuelled space rock of the 1980s could have predicted the critical and commercial success that they would become in the 21st Century. Of course, it all began with The Soft Bulletin, their breathtaking masterpiece that arrived at the fag-end of the 90s. However, it was Yoshimi… that took them into the mainstream. The concept is more than a little ridiculous, but despite the abundance of robot themes and the massively distorted drums, it’s the human warmth that shines through on this album more than anything. The string arrangements seem to be choreographed to match sounds that stir human emotion (witness the coda of One More Robot/Sympathy 3000-21) and this album also gave us the most show-stopping line of the decade (“Do you realize that everyone you know some day will die?" from the initially fluffy and innocent sounding Do You Realize?? - now the state anthem of Oklahoma). Perhaps no-one will ever understand what goes on in their minds, but Yoshimi… demonstrates that The Flaming Lips know what’s going on in ours.

28: Arab Strap - The Last Romance (Chemikal Underground/2005)

Arab Strap are fantastic storytellers, though they tell you the stories you may not want to hear, for theirs is a world of regret, too much to drink, bad decisions and disappointment. Your opinion of The Last Romance could hinge on what you make of the opening line to first track, Stink (“Burn these sheets that we’ve just fucked in”). It may not be happy listening but there’s something about the relish in Aidan Moffatt’s voice that makes these tales of twentysomething dreams compelling. It may be somewhat unremarkable sonically (mostly the usual guitar/bass/drums setup) but the strength of the melodies really shines through though the star of the show is Moffatt’s acerbic, cutting wit. The Last Romance would cut short any party, but by yourself on a rainy day, it’s a cathartic and somehow uplifting experience, worthy of many a repeat listen.

29: The Shins - Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop/2003)

As I get older and hear more and more music, I start to reach the conclusion that more often than not, simplicity is king and what I really love is pop music. There’s clearly a place for your nosebleed techno and drill n’ bass “classics”, but nothing quite beats a well-crafted three-minute hook-laden, melody-driven, bona fide pop song. Chutes Too Narrow is the best example of this from the last decade, and possibly even longer. It follows a pretty standard verse-chorus-verse setup and isn’t going to change the world, but it’s so well-crafted and bursting with memorable melodies that it begs to be listened again and again. Some may deem it unworthy, and The Shins certainly have their detractors but this really is quality, timeless songwriting of the highest order. Just typing this paragraph has put Fighting in a Sack firmly in my head, and every time I hear a snippet of this album, I have to go back and play the whole thing. A victory for quality over style, reputation and other things that barely matter.

30: Martha Wainwright - Martha Wainwright (Drowned in Sound/2005)

The opening track of this album is beautiful, simply stunning and beyond my feeble words. For a proper explanation of why it’s so good, you should go here: http://bit.ly/5OrHSM. However, the rest of the album ain’t half bad either. Factory fades in like a half-awake dream and lazily rolls along like an hour on a beach, and This Life and These Flowers are similarly captivating. But don’t be fooled into thinking this is an album without balls, because Martha Wainwright has more attitude and feistiness than your average album. In fact, anyone titling a song about their father Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole is pretty confident, especially when said father is songwriter Loudon Wainwright III. Tracks such as Ball and Chain also pack a bitter, cutting edge. Wainwright’s voice is a fabulous instrument, capable of capturing the good and the bad, the rough and the smooth, and is never, ever dull. Ignore the males of the Wainwright family, Martha is the one to invest in.