JO Magazine

There were a lot of good new albums this year, but little agreement among top critics on what constituted the best. Here are some of the most acclaimed, and some of our own favorites—which are not necessarily the same.

The XX

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A beautiful collection that straddles the line between mellow trip-hop and low rock. We compared this debut by a quartet of disaffected British youth to the best from the likes of Massive Attack and Portishead. It’s one of those perfect discs for an evening at home with good friends or loved ones. It’s hard to believe that an album so unassuming could be one of the year’s best, but it’s up there.

PJ Harvey and John Parish

A Woman, A Man Walked By

We hadn’t got ‘round to reviewing this one yet, but it’s got a lot to offer. Parish’s music bears strong similarities to some of his previous collaborations with Harvey, but this disc is rawer, fresher, by turns punky and country-fried, and not constrained by a single mood. Harvey’s lyrics are less roving—a story about relationship in decay. The contrasting elements capture the ups and downs of “black-hearted” love.

Animal Collective

Merriweather Post Pavilion

This is the one album that every critic seems to put among the year’s best; it’s claimed the highest score on Metacritic almost from the day it came out, and earned rave reviews from, well, everyone. Except us. We think it epitomizes everything that’s gone wrong with indie rock today: deliberately tuneless and abstruse, pretentiously uninviting, it sounds roughly like a backhoe plowing through a garden party. But we could be wrong.

Q-Tip

Kamaal the Abstract

Recorded back in 2000 or so, this album was deemed too experimental by rapper Q-Tip’s record label, and was shelved until recently. It hasn’t won huge critical acclaim, but it’s one of our favorites: a musical chimera that mixes up some hip hop with a whole lot of jazz, and isn’t afraid to go all over the map. The only sad part is that much of Q-Tip’s wordplay is subsumed into the album’s sprawling tone poetry.

Mastodon

Crack the Skye

What Mastodon does best is to turn very loud music into a soaring, out-of-body experience, without ever crossing the line into the amateur theatrics of, say, Dream Theater, or getting as vague and strange as Isis. Crack the Skye takes the out-of-body metaphor literally; and while it isn’t quite the masterwork that 2004’s Leviathan was, it shows this band is still the gold standard of aggressive modern metal.

The Antlers

Hospice

Hospice is probably the year’s second-most acclaimed album, a sleeper that grew huge on Internet and radio buzz. It’s nice to listen to, but its repetitive tunes and rather pat crescendos can’t quite hold our interest. Plus, it’s a concept album about watching someone die—a well-trod theme that constantly calls to mind more interesting records, like Lou Reed’s scorching Magic and Loss, or even MCR’s Black Parade.

Mount Eerie

Wind's Poem

Phil Elverum is a genre unto himself, and his work is consistent only in defying category. The latest disc from his Mount Eerie project might best be called “scary folk.” It’s pastoral melancholia meets sludge metal, and its genius is dark. But with traditional metal languishing in the hands of folks like the-emo-band-formerly-called-Metallica, someone has to be scary—even if it’s a guy with a guitar in a knit cap.

Yousef Kawar

Electronic Genes

As ambient electronica goes, this one is interesting—whether or not it meets everyone’s definition of “music.” Local artist Kawar plays with a blend of found sounds and created ones, to generate moods ranging from melancholy to “what’s that on the stairs?” creepy. It’s the dark edges of this album that make it the most interesting, and more than just an art project—it’s a creation to be taken seriously.

The Felice Brothers

Yonder is the Clock

We reviewed this disc back in August, and it just keeps growing on us: its homespun aesthetic, its beautiful, almost-familiar tunes and introspective lyrics. There’s just something charming and welcoming about the Felice Brothers, and if you haven’t heard either of their albums, you probably should. They may not be anthems of any social movements, but American folk ballads haven’t been this good in 40 years.

The Phantom Band

Checkmate Savage

This Scottish group has put together what’s perhaps the year’s most interesting debut—and one that’s totally unclassifiable, mushing up Brit pop and Scottish folk and New Wave and heaven-knows what else into a fusion that’s energetic, melancholy, wistful and powerful. And amid all the experimentation, they still have time to write some serious and personal lyrics. It rarely works to say a band offers something for every listener, but this one just might.