The Ten Best Albums of the '00s (so far), Part Two
For albums #10-6, click here.
5.

There's been a little bit of a backlash against this record in the past year or two, with people decrying it as something Beck made while he was deeply depressed, that wasn't as fun as his other work, that this was a totally different Beck than the guy we had seen before. I would argue, that no, it isn't a totally different Beck -- we had seen shades of this in "One Foot in the Grave" and other records of his. And even if it was, I would say that this is more of the real Beck than we've ever seen. The guy from "Midnite Vultures" may be great at parties, but would you really want to know him? Put up with his crazy antics every day? Yeah, "Sea Change" Beck may be a little bit of a sad sack, but, man, he's just so real. It's okay, let it all out, Beck. I'm there for you, man.
4.

I never thought I'd be saying this about a band called The Unicorns, but I think these guys might just be this generation's Misfits. Or, at least, they would have been if they hadn't broken up right after they made this record. And it has nothing to do with the kind of music they make -- their post-punk, synthesizery indie pop is pretty far removed from the Misfits -- or their attitude or their image. It's all thematic. Just like the Misfits, The Unicorns are obsessed with death. Every song on the record is about it in one way or another, some more explicitly ("I Don't Wanna Die," "Ready to Die," the "Ghost" trilogy) and some less so ("Jellybones" is about a guy who gets diagnosed with a very silly terminal illness, "I Was Born (a Unicorn)" deals with the two last members of a spieces dying because they stop believing in each other), but in every case, it's never taken seriously. Death is a joke to these guys, and that's...refreshing. Add to that the facts that "Les Os" is just a song that you hear and then want to hear over...and over...and over until you are actually dead, and that the lines "I lift weights but I don't sweat/I go for a swim but I don't get wet" from "Tuff Ghost" may just be the best lyrics ever written, and you've got one hell of a great album.
3.

You didn't I'd get through this half of the list without having at least a couple instances of the pattern from the last half, did you? Though it was MF Doom's Madvillain collaboration with Madlib, "Madvillainy," that got every ounce of the critical acclaim, this album, released just before it, is a much better showcase of the masked one's skills. Songs like "Lactose and Lecithin" and "Saliva" show off some amazing production, where V. Vaughn's flow is just some kind of incredible icing. But at the same time, "Lickupon" and "Never Dead" are just complete lyrical monsters, where the beat doesn't even matter. The culmination is in the album's centerpiece, "Let Me Watch," in which Apani B. guests as Nikki, a young innocent, and Vaughn is his old villainous self. It's a real heartbreaker -- he just uses her, jerks her around and drives her to self-medication. But all he really wanted was some tail -- he's still oblivious to the fact that he's hurting her. It rings incredibly true, and who expected such poignancy from a guy who wears a metal mask and talks about supervillains all the time?
2.

I know, I know. It's supposed to be played out now. Their (wait for it) followup was better (and it was excellent, most certainly). They used "New Slang" in a McDonald's commercial, even with that one lyric about bleeding into buns. Something like half the record was on the "Garden State" soundtrack. I know all that. And yet, somehow, this record is still as good as it was when I first heard it, and could still stand on its own if "New Slang" was the only song on there. The fact that the rest of the songs on the record are pretty damn great, too, is what knocks it into the stratosphere, though. Bring on all the soundtracks and commercials you want, I don't care. Try as you might, "Oh, Inverted World" will still be the same record, and I'll still listen to it, blameless, and without shame.
1.

My experience with this record is so unlike anything else, I'm almost hesitant to call it an album it all. It's more like a symphony -- so layered, so nuanced, that I still haven't heard all it has to offer me. I'm not even sure how it's possible, but every single song on this record has been my favorite at one time or another. Some songs just grab you right up front ("Wake Up," "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels),"), some take a few listens ("Crown of Love," "Rebellion (Lies)"), and others can take months for a listener to really hear them ("In the Back Seat," "Une Annee Sans Lumiere"). But then you go back and you listen to the ones you liked from the very beginning, and you notice something else about them that you like, and it's almost a whole different song again. And that's just a very basic description of the songs themselves. The content -- a note-perfect exploration of how the young are thrust into adulthood as our childhood passes away along with the elders in our families -- is so universal an experience for everyone going through the transition into adult life, that it might as well be required listening. So listen to it already.
So, that's the top ten. Tell me what you think about it over on the message board, or post your own top ten to show me up. Also, here's my rest of my next ten (11-20), the first five of which I listed with #10-6. They are in no order whatsoever.
Grandaddy, "Sumday" (2003)
The Shins, "Chutes Too Narrow" (2003)
The Streets, "A Grand Don't Come For Free" (2004)
Interpol, "Turn on the Bright Lights" (2002)
Danger Mouse/Jay-Z, "The Grey Album" (2004)
5.

Beck, "Sea Change" (2002)
There's been a little bit of a backlash against this record in the past year or two, with people decrying it as something Beck made while he was deeply depressed, that wasn't as fun as his other work, that this was a totally different Beck than the guy we had seen before. I would argue, that no, it isn't a totally different Beck -- we had seen shades of this in "One Foot in the Grave" and other records of his. And even if it was, I would say that this is more of the real Beck than we've ever seen. The guy from "Midnite Vultures" may be great at parties, but would you really want to know him? Put up with his crazy antics every day? Yeah, "Sea Change" Beck may be a little bit of a sad sack, but, man, he's just so real. It's okay, let it all out, Beck. I'm there for you, man.
4.

The Unicorns, "Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?" (2003)
I never thought I'd be saying this about a band called The Unicorns, but I think these guys might just be this generation's Misfits. Or, at least, they would have been if they hadn't broken up right after they made this record. And it has nothing to do with the kind of music they make -- their post-punk, synthesizery indie pop is pretty far removed from the Misfits -- or their attitude or their image. It's all thematic. Just like the Misfits, The Unicorns are obsessed with death. Every song on the record is about it in one way or another, some more explicitly ("I Don't Wanna Die," "Ready to Die," the "Ghost" trilogy) and some less so ("Jellybones" is about a guy who gets diagnosed with a very silly terminal illness, "I Was Born (a Unicorn)" deals with the two last members of a spieces dying because they stop believing in each other), but in every case, it's never taken seriously. Death is a joke to these guys, and that's...refreshing. Add to that the facts that "Les Os" is just a song that you hear and then want to hear over...and over...and over until you are actually dead, and that the lines "I lift weights but I don't sweat/I go for a swim but I don't get wet" from "Tuff Ghost" may just be the best lyrics ever written, and you've got one hell of a great album.
3.

Viktor Vaughn (MF Doom), "Vaudeville Villain" (2003)
You didn't I'd get through this half of the list without having at least a couple instances of the pattern from the last half, did you? Though it was MF Doom's Madvillain collaboration with Madlib, "Madvillainy," that got every ounce of the critical acclaim, this album, released just before it, is a much better showcase of the masked one's skills. Songs like "Lactose and Lecithin" and "Saliva" show off some amazing production, where V. Vaughn's flow is just some kind of incredible icing. But at the same time, "Lickupon" and "Never Dead" are just complete lyrical monsters, where the beat doesn't even matter. The culmination is in the album's centerpiece, "Let Me Watch," in which Apani B. guests as Nikki, a young innocent, and Vaughn is his old villainous self. It's a real heartbreaker -- he just uses her, jerks her around and drives her to self-medication. But all he really wanted was some tail -- he's still oblivious to the fact that he's hurting her. It rings incredibly true, and who expected such poignancy from a guy who wears a metal mask and talks about supervillains all the time?
2.

The Shins, "Oh, Inverted World" (2001)
I know, I know. It's supposed to be played out now. Their (wait for it) followup was better (and it was excellent, most certainly). They used "New Slang" in a McDonald's commercial, even with that one lyric about bleeding into buns. Something like half the record was on the "Garden State" soundtrack. I know all that. And yet, somehow, this record is still as good as it was when I first heard it, and could still stand on its own if "New Slang" was the only song on there. The fact that the rest of the songs on the record are pretty damn great, too, is what knocks it into the stratosphere, though. Bring on all the soundtracks and commercials you want, I don't care. Try as you might, "Oh, Inverted World" will still be the same record, and I'll still listen to it, blameless, and without shame.
1.

The Arcade Fire, "Funeral" (2004)
My experience with this record is so unlike anything else, I'm almost hesitant to call it an album it all. It's more like a symphony -- so layered, so nuanced, that I still haven't heard all it has to offer me. I'm not even sure how it's possible, but every single song on this record has been my favorite at one time or another. Some songs just grab you right up front ("Wake Up," "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels),"), some take a few listens ("Crown of Love," "Rebellion (Lies)"), and others can take months for a listener to really hear them ("In the Back Seat," "Une Annee Sans Lumiere"). But then you go back and you listen to the ones you liked from the very beginning, and you notice something else about them that you like, and it's almost a whole different song again. And that's just a very basic description of the songs themselves. The content -- a note-perfect exploration of how the young are thrust into adulthood as our childhood passes away along with the elders in our families -- is so universal an experience for everyone going through the transition into adult life, that it might as well be required listening. So listen to it already.
So, that's the top ten. Tell me what you think about it over on the message board, or post your own top ten to show me up. Also, here's my rest of my next ten (11-20), the first five of which I listed with #10-6. They are in no order whatsoever.
Grandaddy, "Sumday" (2003)
The Shins, "Chutes Too Narrow" (2003)
The Streets, "A Grand Don't Come For Free" (2004)
Interpol, "Turn on the Bright Lights" (2002)
Danger Mouse/Jay-Z, "The Grey Album" (2004)
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