The Top 10 Albums of 2007
According to Joe Sweeney
2007 was a year. A year with months, weeks and days. A year that saw minutes pass, and even seconds. A year where milliseconds split with microseconds, microseconds got back together with nanoseconds, and picoseconds tried to make a comeback.
1. Amy Winehouse - Back To Black
If all you know about Winehouse is from the tabloids, forget it all and listen to her record. This is one of those rare pop albums that’s adventurous and digestible, unflinchingly honest and radio-friendly. It will probably never sound dated, because it's spun from such timeless stock (‘60s R&B, vocal jazz, reggae, lyrical confessions a la Mary J. Blige). And at the same time, Winehouse’s combination of girl group reverie and end-of-the-bar lamentation is utterly, fascinatingly fresh, especially at a time when Joss Stone is considered a real soul singer. She’s one of the most delightfully nuanced vocalists around, and a hell of a songwriter – if she does nothing beyond this, her legacy will be intact.
2. Radiohead - In Rainbows
Ever since Radiohead deconstructed the sound that made it famous on its seminal 2000 album, Kid A, every subsequent effort has come with the expectation of some form of stylistic shift. There’s none of that to be found on In Rainbows, an album that finds the band favoring distillation over reinvention – these are 10 songs boiled down to their essence, resulting in the most straightforward Radiohead record of the millennium. It’s a combination of everything that makes the band sublime (ambitious song structures, slow builds with blissfully harmonic releases, disorienting electronic noises, otherworldly vocals), but with one important new wrinkle: sex appeal. In Rainbows is marked by moments of brutally unrequited love, like this couplet from the song “All I Need”: “I’m an animal/Trapped in your hot car.” It finds the humanity in the machine, which makes it Radiohead’s best record since Y2K.
3. Peter Bjorn and John - Writer's Block
On first listen, the 11 tracks on Writer’s Block. are all simple, uneventful affairs. But after spinning it a few more times, it becomes clear behind the record’s low-budget production and basic song structures lies some unexpectedly fertile artistic ground – philosophies on life, relationships, getting older and dealing with the past, coupled with pretty, hands-in-your-pockets-sounding melodies. The song “Objects Of My Affection” illustrates just how delightfully deceptive the trio can be. Driven by two guitar chords, a snare drum march and a chorus that contains the line “I am more me,” the track seems like nothing more than fodder for whiny teens. But then there’s the third verse: “And the other day, this new friend of mine said something to me/'Just because something starts differently, doesn’t mean it’s worth less'/And I soaked it in/How I soaked it in/And just as to prove how right he was/Then you came.” The rest of the album follows suit from there, regaling love’s majestic highs (“Paris 2004”) and discouraging lows (“Let’s Call It Off”) with a shy pop sensibility that is way more than the sum of its parts.
4. LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver
Great electronic music is a full-body experience – stimulating the mind, kick-starting the endocrine system and accelerating the heart rate. And it’s tough to think of any artist in 2007 that rocked our bodies like James Murphy. The man behind LCD Soundsystem made the best party record of the year, and like all music of its elite ilk, Sound of Silver has legs way beyond the dance floor. On top of the irresistible dance-punk beats and shout-along choruses, Murphy’s album possesses subtly textured moments worthy of the artsiest rock band. “Someone Great” ponders the death of a loved one over a gorgeous sea of synths, with a glockenspiel mimicking Murphy’s vocal melody. “All My Friends” features several instruments playing one chord in staggered fashion, resulting in a beautifully unsettling pop song. And if that wasn’t enough, Sound of Silver ends with the clever, Beatlesque ballad “New York, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down,” which closes with the lines, “Maybe mother told you true/And there’ll always be somebody there for you/And you’ll never be alone/But maybe she’s wrong/And maybe I’m right.” If you’re a DJ at a singles bar, I dare you to cue that one up.
5. Pharaohe Monch - Desire
The best hip-hop record of 2007 came from a notoriously unprolific MC (in terms of solo albums, at least). Pharaohe Monch's last effort was 1999's Internal Affairs, an album that thrusted the rapper to the forefront of artists that would lead hip-hop into the next millennium. Instead, Monch opted to lie low for eight years, making the occasional single and guest appearance, before putting together Desire. A collection of tracks that feature taut, unadorned beats and discussions of the psychology of violence, record industry corruption, artistic passion and sexual attraction, Desire captures Monch at the peak of his powers. From the driving distorted guitar hook of "Free" to "Trilogy," a nine-plus minute suite about a crime of passion, the rapper never tries to reinvent the wheel; he just crams colorful metaphors and similes into the nooks and crannies of every groove. On the powerfully imaginative "When the Gun Draws," Monch raps from the perspective of a bullet, sharing such explosive social theories as "White man made me venom to eliminate/
Especially when I'm in the hood, I never discriminate." It's heady, provocative, eminently listenable stuff. Perhaps Monch is leading hip-hop into the future after all.
6. M.I.A. - Kala
Maya Arulpragasam's music is a flea market crammed with incredible finds, a loud, busy, open space that can either stress you out or overwhelm you with its possibilities. Cramming together the spirit of electronic music, hip-hop, Bollywood and everything else that falls under that nebulous genre we call "world music," M.I.A. has created a wall of sound that ignores international borders and shreds musical conventions. And on her second album, Kala, this wall would probably give Phil Spector a heart attack. M.I.A. jumps from bewildering, droning electronica ("Bamboo Banga") to hook-heavy disco-pop ("Jimmy"), a schoolyard rap with a group of Aboriginal Australian boys ("Mango Pickle Down River"), and an ingenious slab of sunny hip-hop ("Paper Planes"), which incorporates gunfire, a cash register ding and a Wreckx-n-Effect sample in a glorious way. If you truly value originality above all else, look no further.
7. Tracey Thorn - Out of the Woods
After Tracey Thorn and husband Ben Watt put their group Everything But the Girl on hiatus to focus on raising their kids, Thorn did some songwriting here and there, eventually compiling a raw demo on a four-track cassette recorder. She gave these songs to a lucky handful of techno producers, who fleshed them out as they saw fit. As a result, Out Of The Woods offers much more than EBTG’s brand of club-ready pop – it’s a diverse blend of styles, including wistful balladry, moody post-punk, British folk, ‘80s dance and modern house. Most importantly, it’s all held together by Thorn’s hypnotic pipes. While every moment is richly produced, elements of Thorn’s McCartney-esque homemade approach crop up in the ballads, like the tender opening cut “Here It Comes Again” and the rainy-windowpane introspection of “Hands Up To The Ceiling.” The former is three minutes of pop bliss that would grab Sir Paul’s attention, replete with a string quartet, gentle keyboards, pizzicato plucking and lines like, “The sun coming through the rain is more precious than gold.” On the more dance-inspired tracks, it’s the same story: imaginative production wrinkles that underline Thorn’s wonderful songs. On “A-Z,” an ode to gay teenagers getting bullied at school, her voice slinks around a ghostly synthesizer line, delivering couplets laden with poignancy, i.e. “You’ve been balanced on a knife/Will the city save your life?/Your life is waiting for you/Your love is waiting for you.”
8. Feist - The Reminder
In the annals of “You’re an asshole but I love you anyway and I’d rather feel this pain than be without you” songs, Joni Mitchell’s “A Case Of You” is the gold standard. Fans of Mitchell’s brilliant, heartbreaking ode will eagerly drink up The Reminder, the second album from Canadian singer/songwriter Leslie Feist. Practically every track features a narrator that’s frantically bailing water from a sinking ship, clutching to hopes and promises as the water fills her lungs. But this is more than just a self-pitying, rainy day kind of album, thanks to the robust eclecticism of the music. While we’re not talking orchestras and choirs here, The Reminder benefits from a richness of production that Feist’s 2004 debut Let It Die lacked. After opening the album in much the same way as its predecessor, the record shifts to the contagious, Pretenders-esque pop of “I Feel It All.” One of the album’s instantly lovable tunes, it’s marked by a simple touch that single-handedly sets it apart: a three-note glockenspiel run. All of the album’s standouts have one of these precious little surprises, like the nature sounds running under “The Park” or the aching cello accents on “Limit To Your Love.” While Let It Die put Feist on the map, her new album reminds us of a map of Canada, drawn on the back of a cartoon coaster. After you’ve had a few listens, I doubt you’ll still be on your feet.
9. Wilco - Sky Blue Sky
Wilco's 2004 release, A Ghost Is Born, is the most unfocused album in the band's history, thanks largely to a 15-minute track of guitar noises and a couple tunes that sounded more like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot B-sides. But Ghost's self-assured follow-up, Sky Blue Sky, helps makes some sense of its unruly predecessor. An immaculately produced set of autumnal ballads, country-rock workouts and Steely Dan-like guitar noodle fests, Sky is, in a sense, the record Wilco was always supposed to make. It's not the band's very best, but it's certainly its most confident and all-encompassing, melding the Southern warmth of Being There with the crystalline power-pop of Summerteeth and the structural experimentations of Yankee and Ghost. Whether it's sweet existentialist folk ("Either Way"), ambitious boogie-woogie ("Walken") or masterful '70s AM jazz-rock ("Impossible Germany"), this is clearly the work of a band that knows it's one of the best around. In retrospect, those rough spots on A Ghost Is Born could have been a necessary part of Wilco's evolution. If that's the case, then those 15 minutes of noise are a crucial moment in '00s rock.
10. Joni Mitchell - Shine
Musically, Joni Mitchell's first album of original material in nine years rarely registers louder than a whisper, but it has a sense of urgency to it that few artists can create. It sounds like something that had to be made. Although Shine includes an updated version of Joni’s signature folk anthem “Big Yellow Taxi,” its moods and textures are closer to her softer, jazz-infused records of the mid- to late-1970s. Hooks give way to subtlety, and melodies succumb to atmospheres. She’s mainly a piano player here; almost every tune is anchored by her warm, balladic chord structures. These rich sonic backdrops set the stage for some of the most stunning, volatile statements of Joni’s career. “Holy Earth/How can we heal you?/We cover you like a blight,” she sings, on “If I Had A Heart.” But as starkly depressing as Shine tends to be, there’s a reason for its title. At the end of the day, Mitchell has faith not in mankind or God, but in nature herself. When she sings, “Spirit of the water/Give us all the courage and the grace/To make genius of this tragedy unfolding/The genius to save this place,” she’s not trying to single-handedly stop global warming or save a pile of sea turtles. Leonardo DiCaprio’s charity work may get him spreads in Vanity Fair, but the only way an artist ever makes a difference is by creating art. Joni Mitchell has created a gentle heart song to Mother Nature and a fiery condemnation of war, greed and our willful ignorance of both. Shine is the sound of a master songwriter’s righteous indignation, and, Christ, is it beautiful.
Honorable mentions (in alphabetical order):
Lily Allen - Alright, Still
The summer record of the year, boasting catchy reggae and lite hip-hop beats, clever lyrical twists, and that middle-finger-with-a-smile-on-your-face British charm.
Andrew Bird - Armchair Apocrypha
Another uncategorically gorgeous suite of tunes from this maverick violinist/guitarist/whistler.
Busdriver - RoadKillOvercoat
Tongue-twisting, apocalyptic, anti-capitalist rants over a strikingly original blend of underground hip-hop and indie rock.
Hell Razah - Renaissance Child
The best Wu-Tang-esque production since Ghostface Killah's Fishscale in '06. (I haven't heard the Wu comeback album 8 Diagrams as of this writing, though.)
Paul McCartney - Memory Almost Full
Although it's more uneven than Macca's superb 2005 release, Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, this is another worthy scene in Act III of his solo career.
Yoko Ono - Yes, I'm A Witch
Haunting, poignant re-imaginings of Ono songs, hand-picked by artists like Cat Power, The Flaming Lips, Antony and DJ Spooky.
The Weakerthans - Reunion Tour
Sweet, literary indie rock that sounds like a beautiful day in a depressing place. "Bigfoot!" is one of the prettiest ways you can spend two minutes and 23 seconds.
The Top Five Singles of 2007
1. Rihanna - "Umbrella"
The best musical and lyrical hooks of the year came from Rihanna, who took the most obvious metaphor for emotional shelter and made it poignant.
2. Amy Winehouse - "You Know I'm No Good"
Painfully honest, utterly self-deprecating and an instant soul classic. When the horns come in, so do the goosebumps.
3. Lil Mama - "Lip Gloss"
Hip-hop is the only music that can be catchy as hell without incorporating a single note. (Sorry, drum solo lovers.) All disgusting lyrical connotations aside, "Lip Gloss" is a perfect example. Add a bass line to Lil Mama's old-school homage, and it's ruined.
4. M.I.A. - "Paper Planes"
Take some gun shots, cash registers, samples of "Rump Shaker" and The Clash, and you've somehow got an infectious summertime jam. Genius.
5. LCD Soundsystem - "Someone Great"
Combining an ethereal electronic soundscape with James Murphy's matter-of-fact voice and cutting observations about dealing with loss, this 6-minute masterpiece possesses a power all its own.