While top 10 lists are a nice way to try to summarize a year, no one seriously believes that they accurately reflect the entire gamut of music. With so many genres and artists to encapsulate, they barely scratch the surface. On that note, the following eight albums met the randomly set benchmark of being a surprise, pleasantly so in the first four cases and disappointingly so in the last. Give them a listen to hear last year at its best and worst.
Joanna Newsom -- Ys
Although widely praised by critics, this indie folk harpist-singer-songwriter has a particularly distinctive and divisive voice -- harshly high-pitched, at times childish, and full of screeches and other vocal tics. I could not tolerate these idiosyncrasies on her first album, "The Milk-Eyed Mender," but after hearing so much about "Ys" (pronounced "ees"), I decided to give Newsom a second chance, and was pleasantly surprised. The five songs in "Ys," 55 minutes in all, are richly textured with producer Van Dyke Park's beautiful film score-like orchestration cushioning Newsom's voice and harp. Combined with lyrics that come closer to poetry than anything else, the album has a complexity and depth that lends itself to repeated listening. You won't find any other artist quite like Newsom; her sophomore release is a true masterpiece worth discovering.
Justin Timberlake -- FutureLove /SexSounds
Judging by his latest release, Mr. Timberlake won't be pigeonholed as just another former boy-band member. Though the first single off this album spawned more "Sexy is back!" jokes than I ever wanted to hear, it was catchy, original and incredibly fun -- everything pop is supposed to be. All of its tracks rework basic R&B themes and pop sensibilities, modernizing and polishing them so they shine in a brand new light. Of course, producer Timbaland is to be credited just as much as Timberlake; apparently anything he touches can be turned to gold (see Furtado, Nelly). This is Timberlake's falsetto as it was meant to be.
Peter, Bjorn and John -- Writer's Block
This album largely falls on the quieter side of rock, but it packs a punch nonetheless. The Stockholm trio has a grasp on every era of rock, from 1960s pop to 1980s synth and shoegazing; unlike their previous two albums, all influences are out in full force here, creating an immensely exciting sound. Its first single, "Young Folks," is probably one of the perkiest songs I've heard this year -- an infectiously whistled hook and bongos. Based on the strength of the single, I checked out the rest of the tracks and was consistently charmed throughout my first listen. Clearly the album's title is the biggest misnomer of the year.
Ghostface Killah -- Fishscale
This former Wu-Tang Clan member and rap purist has created a loaded album that capitalizes on his years of experience, showing younger rappers how to make an impact. The album is incredibly strong, with a truly musical production that incorporates everything from soul samples to the dialogue of a "Rocky"-type coach on "The Champ." In the many tracks devoted to the drug-rap subgenre Ghost was integral in launching, the dealer is not treated like a god; instead he shows the trade with all of its destructive and messy flaws. This is storytelling, though, not preaching, and Ghost raps with a cinematic vision that shows rather than tells. "Shakey Dog," narrating a robbery attempt, is the most vivid rap song I've heard in years, with a narrative so dense and unique it merits repeated listens.
The Killers -- Sam's Town
This is probably my least favorite album of the year, a prime example of a group trying to be Serious Artists and failing spectacularly. Brandon Flowers and band have ditched their velvet and eyeliner for the common-man styling, visually and artistically, of Springsteen and U2. This is not a logical progression from the Killers' debut "Hot Fuss," and ultimately it seems like their hearts weren't in this new album. The songs are insincere and unfocused, looking to other bands' gestures instead of looking inward. That age-old maxim "write what you know" holds true, and in "Sam's Town" the Killers have no idea.
The Who -- Endless Wire
Should the "Endless Wire" be considered in the same breath as "My Generation"? Only two members of The Who remain on this planet, let alone in the band, and while "Endless Wire" strives at times to capture the same sound as the Who of three decades ago, it certainly doesn't have the same vision. This is supposed to be the same band that hoped to die before they got old. Pete Townshend and Robert Daltrey have mellowed to Lite FM rather than lighting guitars on fire, the nadir being Daltrey's choice to compensate for his aging pipes with Tom Waits-esque gravelly vocals. The album suffers further from lack of intelligent editing -- half of the tracks are part of a concept album, the other half are stuck in randomly, and many of them shouldn't have been released at all. It's interesting to see The Who's progression over the years, and it is a clear one, but as an album "Endless Wire" fails to capture the listener like The Who does at its best. Maybe because it's only half of The Who -- the album should be called "Who's Left."
Various Artists -- The O.C. Mix 6 -- Covering Our Tracks
For a while, The O.C. was both heralded and mourned as a vehicle for bringing indie music to the masses in the form of Seth Cohen and his penchant for Death Cab. Now ratings are plummeting, and so has the quality of the soundtrack. "Covering Our Tracks" scrapes the bottom of the barrel to bring the listener covers of already released "O.C." songs. Covers are fun when they bring something new to the song or highlight one aspect that may have gone unnoticed in the original. Here, though, it looks like producers gathered a rag-tag group into a studio and handed them sheet music at random. Some of the songs have barely changed, and there's such a lack of enthusiasm that I'm tempted to believe the artists were locked into the studios.
Neil Young -- Living With War
In his rush to release "Living With War" while the country was still mired in Iraq, Young failed to write with a subtlety that ensures a song's timelessness. Instead, he created the musical equivalent of an obnoxious bumper sticker calling for an end to the war in Iraq and the Bush presidency. "Let's Impeach the President" is clearly the biggest offender, sampling Bush's speeches. It's basically "C-Span: The Musical." While the rest of the album isn't nearly as offensive, it does rely on cheap shots, cliched lyrics (like riffing on the national anthem), and boring melodies. The most disappointing part is that Young has a proven track record at protest songs -- "Keep On Rocking In The Free World," "Ohio," and so on. Had Young spent a little more time finessing his message and supporting it with the thrilling guitar work he so often exhibits, this album would have a greater chance of being this generation's musical outcry.
