DJ /rupture: Special Gunpowder (2004)

Initially, this album was difficult for me to approach, for I've always had an issue with reggae. If anything feels like a dead genre, it's reggae. But, leave it to DJ /rupture (Jace Clayton) to give me something to appreciate. And, the seudo-narrative of Babylon almost demands the genre's evocation.

/rupture was on the scene for quite awhile before putting together his own collection of work (his most notable mix from earlier was the Minesweeper Suite of 2002). His background is most strongly connected with drum and bass, and when he lets those influences come through in their distorted and ironic ways, he really shines. Just listen to the slow burn feel of "Flop We" crash into the speed of his glich beats, and something, at the very least noteworthy, happens.

It's hard to think of an electronic album this far-reaching as of late, and really, it's the close listen to the unique play of the DJ that really is the most compelling about this listen, genre preferences be damned.

Rating: 8/10

Death Cab for Cutie: Transatlanticism (2003)

Right after this album came out, I took it to NY with me, and it became my soundtrack for the week.

The band does its first really different work since their inception, focusing more on softer songs, and more varied tonal patterns. The album does get back to some of the rocking of their past, in songs like "Expo '86" and "The Sound of Settling," but those moments are layered in between the soft-spoken suggestions of songs like "The New Year" and "A Lack of Color." The title track is an 8-minute epic (and not the last one the band will do...), building as steadily as bricks, and never quite reaching a breaking point that could really explode and rock. And perhaps that's the biggest flaw of the album: in an attempt to grow, the band grew quieter, and frankly, duller. Also, Gibbard's vocals get as sugary sweet as they can, which make for easy hooks, working for the more upbeat songs, and even "The New Year," but the pop in his voice and the darkness of, say, "Lightness" (no pun intended), seem at odds.

I still have sentimental feelings for this album, and I feel like, despite its weaknesses, is the strongest Death Cab album to date, and the most recognizable. But, after Narrow Stairs, I'm sure the band is only trucking deeper and deeper into this vague notion called "maturity."

Rating: 7/10

Camera Obscura: Underachievers Please Try Harder (2004)

The Glasgow twee scene was mostly dominated, as far as I was concerned, by the work of Belle & Sebastian, up until about this album came out. Camera Obscura takes notes from the band, clearly, but sustain their own unique qualities (most notably, the adoring sigh of their female lead singer).

Their lyrics are of the same sardonic innocence twee has been known for, and so I'm not especially impressed in that regard. What holds me is how, from start to finish, this album (mostly) holds it's structure, breaking into Motown slow groove with songs like "A Sisters Social Agony," sitting on an old country mosey in "Before You Cry," and "Books Written for Girls," but always coming back into something warm, particularly in "Knee Deep at the NPL." First track "Suspended from Class" is probably the most Belle & Sebastian-esque they get (I mean, listen to that chorus: "I should be suspended from class/ I don't know my elbow from my arse"), but who's complaining?

It isn't until the last three songs that the album really begins to taper off, making me wonder if ending on a slow note like "Footloose and Fancy Free" was really the best closer to such a relatively upbeat album.

The band would later allow more baroque pop strings to come in, but for now, the band is drenched in dreamy reverb, moping and smiling in the same soft coo. And this is just what I want.

Rating: 9/10

Loretta Lynn: Van Lear Rose (2004)

Fuck Jack White. Yeah, I said it. Fuck him. This album isn't about him or his production. This album is about country royalty Loretta Lynn coming back into prominence with her most versatile and far-reaching album in years. Loretta still tells the stories that she was known for, of women in trouble and remaining strong, her religious faith, and the importance of family growing up. Years have passed since her last critical success, but her voice is still just as strong, and she's still that small-town girl in a big-city scenario.

Many of her fellow country stars made late albums in their career, but most are celebrated for their sheer arrival (see Mr. Cash). Here, we celebrate not the mere achievement, but the grand one that is a woman still as capable as in her early years. If it takes new production to bring her to a new audience, so be it. I choose to celebrate the influential and inspiring voice that stands on its cover and shines here.

Rating 10/10

Arcade Fire: Funeral (2004)

Arcade Fire came into prominence with the help of the critics, but they only brought to everyone's attention what Arcade Fire had going for themselves: a 10-song album that is gorgeous and full of heart, and clearly one of the best albums to come out in the past 10 years.

The band is a 7-person "family," adding more to their numbers on tour. Their instrumentation ranges from the simple to the obscure (you won't hear many bands using the hurdy-gurdy), but it never gets anywhere close to novelty act. The songs themselves are epic heartaches about growing up and the pains of love, but there is something subtly political in there, specifically in songs like "Wake Up" (the band would later explore this more fully on Neon Bible).

The weakest song, in my opinion, is Neighborhood #2, but its only in relation to the slew of brilliant songs here. Their size and their passion make for the most purely full sound, not "fixed" with production or filler orchestras, but just a band of kids playing their bodies weak.

Rating: 10/10

Green Day: American Idiot (2004)

This is one of the most popular albums of the past decade. My words are hardly necessary for an understanding of this album, and frankly, it wouldn't matter to anyone I know. Before anyone heard a song on this album, they decided what they were going to think. "Green Day doing a political concept album?" How would you respond?

Frankly, I'm still a Green Day fan, although I've always favored their early independent work, and Dookie, although they never really disappointed me until I heard Warning, as it sounded too sedated to be the high energy boys I remembered.

American Idiot is, as I said before, a political concept album, but I think its success as an album has nothing do with either of these things. I think of my younger brother, who swears Obama is a Muslim and thinks Toto was God's true returning. He loves this album, because it's fast, fun, and substantial without being overt. And that's already more than anyone asked for from Green Day.

Somewhere toward the second half, the album performs a typical lull, but in a smart fashion, they put one of their singles ("Wake Me Up When September Ends") toward the end to rejuvenate spirits for it's epic ending. Songs like "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" contain acoustic guitar that doesn't sound contrived (as most punk bands who incorporate acoustic guitar do), but you can mostly thank the slick production for making those transitions more subtle and tasteful.

I'm not in love with this album, but for what it is, I can't hate it, especially when it does so in a relatively successful way. Now, I'm not looking forward to anything else Green Day does, but I'm not jumping on the hate train either.

Rating 6/10

Shack: H.M.S. Fable (1999)

This album has as much fable to it as it's title, simply because of how well it was received, and then how quickly it faded into oblivion. So goes the plight of heroin addict brothers a la Driveshaft, Mick and John Head. After many failed attempts, both in previous bands and albums (Mick even received props from Bunnymen Ian McCulloch for his group The Pale Fountains), the band had one last shot at stardom, and this was it.

The album itself is rather nicely produced (Youth), giving a rather Britpop feel with nice baroque strings and such added for feeling. And yet, it isn't quite Britpop, but has a little more of that American West Coast glean, especially in songs like "Since I Met You." Most notably is the gravel in the vocal work, the snarl of a drug-deformed body trying to find its way to its next fix.

Was the work a triumph? Considering the band's prior loss, yes it is. But we forgot about this album, not because it is a lost gem, but instead, because we forgot to care about all the bands that sound fairly similar to this. So, let us build a memorial for Shack, and then let us move on.

Rating: 7/10