"Days" is a pleasant album in exactly the same way that sunny weather makes for a pleasant day. There's nothing deceptive in its simplicity; its songs are just good songs, repeating the success of Real Estate's last bedroom-rock record almost to the letter, and more confident for it. And why not? Why should a good song have to be something more than a good song? Why should 'wasted time' be considered waste at all? The band sticks up for itself: "All those wasted miles, all those aimless drives through green aisles--our careless lifestyle: it was not so unwise."
There's something to be said for any creative work so unassailable that the only honest criticism anyone can level at it is "I don't like this," or (more honestly) "I don't get this." I didn't like or get "Let England Shake" at first--it's a complicated, enigmatically structured record front-loaded with its most dissonant & least accessible tracks--but I came around, as I imagine anyone did who gave it multiple chances and knows how to be affected by music. That's what it comes down to: this is an album with the power to affect us so many ways, to evoke feelings way beyond "This is pretty" or "Let's dance. Consider the heavy-handed, out-of-place bugle reveille on "The Glorious Land," a headache inducing reminder that war makes us tone-deaf, blind to our own humanity. PJ Harvey is a lilting gadfly. We'd do well to listen.
And what lyrics--poetic, prophetic, muckraking. Harvey holds forth with questions like "How is our glorious country sown?" and "What is the glorious truth of our land?" "Let England Shake" may be archaic and arcane, but its message, addressed not just to the corporate, industrial & military establishments that inescapably constitute modern life, but also to the cruel nature in all of us, is pretty damn timely, asking maybe the most important question of all: Who do we want to be?
Something had to occupy the dark atmospheric rock hole-in-my-heart The National left empty this year. "Burst Apart" does nicely. It's perhaps not as coherent a concept album as 2009's "Hospice" was, but it's certainly an intentionally arranged breakup album, maybe the year's best. Recommended for summer nights when your teeth are falling out.
Robin Pecknold penned the best lyrics on any album this year (except maybe PJ Harvey). That's still better than David Bazan, Ben Gibbard, Collin Melloy, Sam Beam, Bill Callahan or Conor Oberst. No album has nailed the crisis confronting middle-class Americans so squarely since "Good News for People Who Love Bad News." The title song hit me at a time when The Economy was no longer a benign monster-under-the-bed, but a looming, confounding presence, keeping me from landing a job, pushing me to lean on my parents and generally blocking me from becoming an adult. The happy ending to that story is that I moved to a more expensive city and work 30 hours/week at two minimum-wage jobs. "What good is it," he asks, "to sing helplessness blues?" It's done me plenty.
It's just obvious to me that this is the best album anyone released this year. You can tell me I bought into the hype; I'll tell you you're just reacting against it. We can call each other crazy all day.
Pitchfork has a really well-put-together defense of liking it. I wrote a whole bunch of sentences to do the same, but decided to erase them. I'm wary of saying anything too definitive about any work of art I love as much as this album. I feel like I've been invited to dream Justin Vernon's dreams with him; if I talk too much I'll wake up.
What dreams they are though--better and more human than any David Lynch movie. An only-just comprehensible story of an existential crisis brought on by drunkenly smashing jack-o-lanterns. Cavernous soundscapes to make Brian Eno and Jon Brion green with jealous rage. Lyrics like "this is not a place / not yet awake, I’m raised of make" [sic]. Deep mysteries.
This record still isn't quite as special as "For Emma…" is to me, but consider that the particular success of that record was absolutely unrepeatable. Now consider the etymology of such words as excellent and outstanding. If "For Emma…" was Justin Vernon's Mona Lisa, "Bon Iver, Bon Iver" is his Sistine Chapel--much larger and more ambitious, and unspeakably different; yet somehow perfect in just the same way.
- I know, "Beth/Rest." Think of it as exit music, a path back into the world. It kind of makes sense that way.
- I saw the band play these songs in real life, so there's your grain of salt.
I've undertaken to read the dictionary while I'm at work (specifically, the Oxford American Desk Dictionary & Thesaurus, Third Edition). Here are some of my favorite words that start with B. I've shortened, lengthened, or otherwise improved their definitions, to avoid infringement and inspire wonder!
babushka [n.]
(in Russia) grandma, or other old lady
also, a headscarf tied under the chin
e.g. for double-points,
bacchanalian [adj.]
(of a party,) rowdy & involving booze
also, (of a party,) awesome
badinage [n.]
witty conversation
bagatelle [n.]
a short, easy, or unimportant task
e.g., basically everything I do at my job as a barista; also: housework, paying bills, answering the phone, realphabetizing my bookshelves by country of origin--any writer's block outlet really.
baize [n.]
the extra-tough green felt on card- & pool-tables
baksheesh [n.]
(in India) money given as charity
(elsewhere & of dubious political correctness) a tip or bribe paid to speed up or ensure services; esp. cab rides in NYC
balaclava [n.]
a hood or hat covering the head & neck, leaving part of the face exposed
e.g., college dorm rivalries, summer camp competitions, House- & Quidditch-Cups in H.P., the actual Balkans
ballcock [n.]
a buoy used to measure the volume of liquid in a tank
e.g., that round thing attached to the valve in a toilet tank; the reason your car's gas gauge is wrong half the time...
ballyhoo [n.]
a big fuss
n.b. This is one of those words that will instantly endear to me whoever uses it, especially if the user is an old person and ballyhoo is just an unironic part of his/her vocabulary.
bandy [adj.]
(of a person's legs) bent outward at the knees
bandy [v.]
use a word or catchphrase frequently in conversation
"Ever since reading Jon's Dictionary, I've been bandying my new arrantly aureate A & B vocabulary like it's my job."
banquette [n.]
a small bench along a wall
i.e., the kind of bench nobody ever sits on, except kids who are waiting for their parents at church.
barbel [n.]
a long, thin growth hanging from the snout of some fish
barker [n.]
the annoying guy at the fair who keeps yelling "Step right up!"
baron [n.] a man from the lowest rank of British nobility
baronet [n.] basically a pretend-rank just outside the British peerage system, awarded to commoners as incentive to pay extra taxes.
bastardize [v.]
degrade something by adding new elements
Some notably bastardized things: Star Wars I-III, season 3 (ad mortem) of most TV shows, black forest cake, Eugene Peterson's The Message
bathos [n.]
(in literature) an unintentional mood-shift from serious to trivial
e.g. Jim Edwards, on the Blitzkrieg in France: "The Germans came in too fast, too furious."
beatific [adj.]
really fucking happy
bedclothes [n.]
sheets & blankets & stuff
or, (at a toga party,) people-clothes
belie [v.]
offer an incomplete idea of something
also, undo an argument by counter-example
bellicose [adj.]
spoilin' for a fight
bender [n.]
a drinking binge
benighted [adj.]
ignorant, primitive
"If you ask me, the shitty state of the US movie industry is due less to hack filmmakers than the aesthetically benighted public they're pandering to."
Bermuda Shorts
the dorky shorts your dad wears on vacation
besom [n.]
a broom made of twigs tied around a stick
e.g., the Necromo-Benimblo Olifosigoso
besotted [adj.]
made insensible by love
also, drunk
bilk [v.]
cheat someone
(n.b. This is the word insensitive people are looking for when they use Gyp or Jew as a verb.)
binomial [n.]
(in grammar) a noun-phrase joined by a conjunction w/ set order
e.g. "biscuits and gravy", "Bill and Ted", "Beavis and Butthead", "Harold and Kumar" …I could go all day....
blandishments [n.]
ingratiating remarks
blarney [n.]
kind or friendly talk that's probably untrue
bleat [v.]
utter a weak or silly complaint
bloomers [n.]
mom-pants
bluestocking [n.]
an intellectually serious woman
n.b. Interestingly, the term isn't meant to connote disdain, though I did find this (apparently in reference to an arcane, gender-neutral definition) on its Wikipedia page:
Ah, unintentional snark.
blunderbuss [n.]
the wide-barreled kind of gun Gaston carries (Remember, no one shoots like Gaston!)
bombast [n.]
language that sounds impressive but doesn't really mean anything
n.b. the OADD&T does not list boobs as a synonym for breasts; bravo. It does, however, include bust, knockers and (no shit) bazooms in the thesaurus section.
boodle [n.]
money, obtained illegally or spent foolishly
boondoggle [n.]
an unnecessary, wasteful, or fraudulent project
e.g., US public schools
boosterism
enthusiastic promotion; hype
"Following a dozen Facebook invites to "like" his band, I decided Greg's boosterism was out of hand: block'd!"
booty [n.]
stolen goods
"Dang girl, you gotta lotta junk in your trunk!"
"Shee-it, ain't junk; that's booty."
n.b., once again, the OADD&T declines to dignify anatomical slang. Such a definition does appear in the tertiary meaning of bottom, however, and a list of synonyms under buttocks is as follows:
rear (end), rump, seat, derriere
[informal] behind, backside, butt, fanny
[humorous] posterior (n.b., who decided which synonyms are inherently humorous?!)
bordello [n.]
a brothel
n.b., the OADD&T lists "massage parlor" as a synonym of bordello: lol.
botulism [n.]
food-poisoning
"I'm lovin' this big mac, but I hope I don't get no botulism!"
bowerbird [n.]
an australian bird that builds an elaborate nest to attract a mate
also, a single guy who's trying way too hard
brickbat [n.]
a critical remark
buckram [n.]
the coarse cloth, stiffened with paste, which lines hardcover books
bumptious [adj.]
irritatingly confident; self-important
e.g., not even necessary: you probably already have someone in mind.
Usage notes for B-words:
baccalaureate is a noun. It can be an attributive noun, but it's still not an adjective. The terms "baccalaureate degree", "baccalaureate exam", and "baccalaureate service" are all redundant, because the noun "baccalaureate" carries all three of these meanings.
"on balance" - taking all factors into account
"On balance, is Tolstoy or Dostoevsky the better novelist?"
n.b. This phrase frequently belies the particular criteria in question (presumably to avoid the difficulty of listing them). Be apprised that it is proper to ask, "On balance of what? /of what factors?"
biannual - taking place twice a year
biennial - taking place every other year
blithe - carelessly or thoughtlessly happy
blithering - very stupid
bourgeois [adj.]
bourgeoisie [n.]
Words & phrases with the prefix black- (betraying a western prejudice against that color):
black arts - umm, black magic
black magic - evil magic
black mark - a note of bad behavior
black market - illegal trade of (generally illegal) goods
blackball - ban someone from joining a club
blackguard - a mean or dishonest person
blacklist - list of out-of-favor or untrustworthy people
blackmail - using threats to obtain money or influence
also:
bête noire - someone / -thing you really hate
Nautical terms that start with B:
backwash - waves flowing outward behind a ship
backwater - a stagnant stretch of river water
baleen - whalebone
ballast - a heavy substance (often in bags) slung over the sides of a ship to keep it stable
bark - a sailing ship with three masts
bayou - marshy outlet of a lake or river
berth - the equivalent of a parking space in a harbor
berth - moor a boat in a berth
bilge - the bottom of a ship's hull
binnacle - the casing that holds a ship's compass
bollard - short post on a ship or quayside for securing a rope
I've undertaken to read the dictionary while I'm at work (specifically, the Oxford American Desk Dictionary & Thesaurus, Third Edition*). Here are some of my favorite words that start with A. I've shortened, lengthened, or otherwise improved their definitions, to avoid infringement and inspire wonder!
abreactive [adj.]
(in psychology) pertaining to the release of repressed emotion through revisiting past experience.
(in memoirs) boring, quite likely solipsistic.
e.g.,
Snoo-zers.
abstemious [adj.]
allowing oneself little or no food, booze & satisfaction in general
(of a Christian) not fun to be with, probably Pelagian.
Academese [n.]
the language of academic writers, characterized by arcane usage conventions & affected diction
e.g., Just pick a scholastic article from any field.
acrid [adj.]
unpleasantly bitter or acidic
(of espresso) less than 97% perfect
acuity [n.]
sharpness of thought & perception
e.g.,
addled [adj.]
(of an egg) rotten
adduce [v.]
refer to something as evidence
"The article adduced irrelevant statistics in support of its claims."
adenoid [n.]
1. the part of the tonsils where nose meets throat
2. 1st name of Charlie Chaplin's Hitler burlesque in "The Great Dictator"
3. a minor character (also representing Hitler) in Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow
Adonis [n.]
a young, very handsome motherfucker
adumbrative [adj.]
intentionally vague / presented in outline
"The writer's early efforts at exposition were dull and adumbrative."
affectation [n.]
an artificial action or style designed to impress
e.g. everything middle school kids ever do, listening to Animal Collective, hating on Animal Collective fans,fashion in general, undertaking to read the dictionary
agglutinate [v.]
to stick firmly
(like, with glue I guess.)
agog [adj.]
eager to see / hear something
e.g.,
me at the Sasquatch festival in central WA
airy [adj.]
not serious about something others are taking seriously
(also) the only helpful attitude for dealing with these psychos.
aitch [n.]
transliteration of the letter H
Who knew?
albumen [n.]
egg-white. that is all.
aleatory [adj.]
1. depending on chance
2. (in music) composed, produced or performed with random elements
e.g. the guitar solo (starting @ 1:26) personifying the mayfly on "Springfield, or Bobby Got a Shadfly Caught in His Hair" by Sufjan Stevens
ambulatory [adj.]
able to walk
"Wanna go for a run?" "Sorry bro, I'm non-ambulatory at the moment."
animadversive [adj.]
apt to criticize or pass judgment
e.g. Holden Caulfield, debating politicians, Mark Driscoll, me most of the time
anodyne [adj.]
unlikely to cause offense
"The King's Speech was rated R." "What? That movie's totes anodyne!"
apologia pro vita sua [n.]
"a defense of one's life"
to be avoided when: giving a commencement address, preaching a sermon, accepting an award; also on most other occasions
apopleptic [adj.]
super angry
e.g., most John Goodman characters
apotheosis [n.]
highest level of something's development
"You might be a hipster if: you think 'The Lonesome Crowded West' is the apotheosis of Modest Mouse's career."
e.g., (definitely:) propensity for procreation & protecting your offspring, desire to eat meat; (probably:) fear of snakes, impulse to pee off bridges, appreciation of music, aversion to country music.
aureate [adj.]
(generally) of / resembling gold
(of language) pointlessly elaborate
auricle [n.]
the external part of the ear
"Check out her auricles' aureate appurtenances." (see what I did there?)
avuncular [adj.]
kind/friendly toward someone younger
"You're letting Patrice babysit?" "Hell yeah; homeboy's avuncular as shit!"
A-word usage notes:
accusative - (linguistics) the case applying to the object of a verb
accusatory - engaging in or prone to accusation
adz - an axe with an curved blade
ADZ - "Anno Domini Z": Sufjan's acronym for the end times.
aesthetic - concerning beauty/art
ascetic - forgoing pleasure in one's life (by choice)
asthetic - [not a word]
AM - amplitude modulation
am - 1st person singular conjugation of "be"
a.m. - in the morning
Apocalypse - the total destruction of the world, as described in the book of Revelation
Armageddon - (in the New testament) the final battle between good and evil, before the Day of Judgment
apocalypse - a catastrophically destructive event
armageddon - a conflict (i.e. war) of sufficient scale to destroy the world or the human race
arrant - total, absolute ("The gnostic gospels are arrant nonsense.")
errant - being in error ("The gnostic gospels are historically & theologically errant.")
Pronounced ARCH-
arch
archbishop
archdeacon
archduke
archenemy
Pronounced ARK-
archangel
archetype
archipelago
architrave
Did I forget your favorite A-word? Submit an entry for Jon's Dictionary in the comments!
*Not all of these words appear in the OAD&T 3rd ed.; nor do they necessarily carry equivalent definitions here. This isn't probably a very useful GRE study tool.
Apparently my Google Voice number once belonged to a Mercer Island drug dealer. In case you don't know this already, I do not deal drugs. I've never even been to Mercer Island. Nevertheless, my conversation with an unrecognized 206- number actually occurred as follows. I've re-arranged the time-stamps and added occasional notes, to draw attention to gaps in the conversation etc., but otherwise this text is a straight copy from my Google Voice archive.
Also worth noting: I wasn't even in Seattle at the time; I was with friends at the Elk in Spokane, waiting for an Explosions in the Sky concert. We went on this adventure together, and some of the funniest stuff here was their idea. I'll try to give credit where due.
Sept. 7, 2011
5:27 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Can I get that brownie?
5:58 PM
Me: Sorry. Who's this?
6:04 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: It's R--- [1st name, redacted], and can I get a dime actually
[n.b. For 3 full minutes I considered telling him he had the wrong number.]
6:07 PM
Me: K.
6:07 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Where you wanna meet?
6:13 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Bro?
[n.b., this is where I let the other guys at the table in on it. My next response was NH's idea.]
6:16 PM
Me: I'm at children's hospital. Can you come here?
6:16 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Yeah
6:18 PM
Me: Cool. And we can forget the fee this time if you bring me a birthday cake. I'm starving.
6:19 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: 1.5 grams. And it's a birthday cake.
6:20 PM
Me: Ice cream cake. Mint chocolate chip.
6:30 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: I'm here
6:31 PM
Me: Which door?
6:32 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Wye front one, by the mad ape
[sic. I presume he was texting while driving at this point.]
6:34 PM
Me: Can you come up to the radiology lab? I'm in the middle of something...
Me: Bring the cake
6:34 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Are you at Virginia mason?
6:36 PM
Me: No, at children's. Go south
[n.b. Couldn't resist the 1980's text-adventure reference. ]
6:38 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Yeah. Not sure where that is
6:41 PM
Me: Just N of U village.
[n.b. Thanks to RJ for knowing where hospitals are & stuff.]
6:42 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: In Seattle?...
6:42 PM
Me: Um yeah
6:44 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: WTF?!?!?! I'm on the fucking island
[n.b. Here, BB told us it was time to go "hardened criminal" on the guy. So I did.]
6:45 PM
Me: Dont Fuck around. Bring me the cake.
6:46 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Don't fuck around, be on the island.
6:48 PM
Me: Leaving now be back in 45 to an hour. Can you wait?
6:48 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Yeah! I'll keep the cake cold
6:49 PM
Me: Right on. Maybe pick up one if those Styrofoam coolers.
6:50 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Yeah, I got one
7:12 PM
Me: Wanna check on the cake? I'm almost there.
7:13 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Yeah, it's still good
7:26 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Can you do an extra dub? I'll pay for this one
7:30 PM
Me: I'll have to make a stop.
7:30 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Thats cool we can give you a ride
7:35 PM
Me: Cool but do you have room for a wheelchair? If not that's okay but I'll have to bus it.
7:36 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Yeah I got room
7:38 PM
Me: Awesome. Almost there.
7:38 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Sick
7:48 PM
Me: Oh, its one of those electric whhel chairs. Doesn't fold up or anything. Sure you've got room?
7:49 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: No, I don't, I'm in my corolla
206.xxx.xxxx: Listen I gotta go. Meet you later/soon
7:51 PM
Me: Sorry but who is this again?
7:51 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: R--- M--- [1st & last name, redacted]
[n.b. Here we arrived at the concert. I put my phone on silent through the opening act because I'm not a douche.]
8:17 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Hey man, can I get that?
8:27 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Your cakes getting warm
[n.b. End of opening act.]
8:59 PM
Me: Oh Shit my phone was off. Come on over.
9:03 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: Ok
9:09 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: I'm almost at your place
9:09 PM
206.xxx.xxxx: I'm here
9:10 PM
Me: Cool, Come on up.
[n.b. Explosions came to the stage, my phone went off, and I haven't heard from RM since.]
The question of whether this guy ever figured out we were obviously fucking with him and started playing along for fun has been a subject of much debate. Did he really buy an ice cream cake and a styrofoam cooler to keep it cold while he drove around Mercer Island trying to find a made-up children's hospital? Hard to believe.
But it's also hard to believe he would have been so pissed off that I was (supposedly) in the city, or that he would give his full name when I spontaneously acted confused half-way through the conversation, or, for that matter, that he would have waited as long as he did to quit talking to me. I like to think he saw an opportunity to get a lot of weed for a $15 cake and leaped at the chance. And boy, what I would give to have seen it when he showed up on an actual drug-dealer's porch with an ice cream cake expecting a gram and a half. Cue Mastercard commercial.
"In the pipefitters' sheds, icicled, rattling when the gales are in the Straits, here's thousands of old used toothpaste tubes, heaped often to the ceilings, thousands of somber man-mornings made tolerable, transformed to mint fumes and bleak song that left white spots across the quicksilver mirrors from Harrow to Gravesend, thousands of children who pestled foam up out of soft mortars of mouths, who lost easily a thousand times as many words among the chalky bubbles--bed-going complaints, timid announcements of love, news of fat or translucent, fuzzy or gentle beings from the country under the counterpane--uncounted soapy-liquorice moments spat and flushed down to sewers and the slow-scumming gray estuary, the morning mouths growing with the day tobacco- and fish-furred, dry with fear, foul with idleness, flooded at thoughts of impossible meals, settling instead for the week's offal in gland pies, Household Milk, broken biscuits at half the usual points, and isn't menthol a marvelous invention to take just enough of it away each morning, down to become dusty oversize bubbles tesselating tough and stagnant among the tar shorelines, the intricate draftsmanship of outlets feeding, multiplying out to sea, as one by one these old toothpaste tubes are emptied and returned to the War, heaps of dimly fragrant metal, phantoms of peppermint in the winter shacks, each tube wrinkled or embossed by the unconscious hands of London, written over in interference-patterns, hand against hand, waiting now--it is true return--to be melted for solder, for plate, alloyed for castings, bearings, gasketry, hidden smokeshriek linings the children of that other domestic incarnation will never see."
Tommy Wiseau's 2002 clustermasterfuckpiece, The Room, is so bad. If you're drunk though, it's so good. Here's my (revised; you're welcome) guide.
NOTE: Don't do any of this unless you're 21+ years old, stupid.
ALSO NOTE: There is a lot of explicit, thoroughly uncomfortable "love-making" in this film. It's camp, not porn--too naive to be salacious--but the smuttyness will be too much for some. You've been warned.
Begin by obtaining: The Room
5+ (preferably cheap) beers per participant. Rainier is encouraged (where available).
Sit back, press play, and be prepared to take a drink:
whenever an establishing shot establishes (/ needlessly reminds us) that indeed we are in San Francisco.
whenever Johnny calls Lisa by a pet name (Babe, My Girl, My Future Wife (from the future!), &c.).
whenever Denny enters.
whenever any new, unintroduced character makes you wonder “who the fuck is this?”
whenever Lisa reveals she doesn't love him anymore!
whenever Mark avers that Johnny's his best friend!
whenever Claudette mentions up Johnny’s salary or Lisa’s financial security.
whenever anyone assures us that “Everything will be fine!”
whenever a scene is set on "the roof." (quotes intentional; you'll see)
Chug whenever/as long as the camera is panning across the GG Bridge. (Fist-pumping with your free hand is encouraged. If the camera pans all the way across the bridge, it is proper to cheer.)
For those with extra-hardy livers, feel free to go bottoms up (i.e. finish your current drink) when:
Denny bites into that fateful apple (because IT'S A METAPHOR!).
Johnny holds forth (to Denny, on "the roof") about love making the world a better place. (If not chugging your drink, it is proper at the end of this speech to chant "Yes we can!")
everyone sings the real-life, major-copyright-infringing "Happy Birthday" song.
That's all folks! Don't forget the ol' underpants.
My year in music was so dominated by three superb records (any guesses which?) that some of you will probably feel I've overrepresented their songs on this list. I actually feel the opposite: I easily could have put "Vesuvius" and "Afraid of Everyone" and "The Suburbs" in the top 15, knocking a handful of variety songs off. But I also mean for this to be useful as a sampler, and that won't work if it only promotes three artists. Opposite problem if I expand the list to 35 or whatever it would take for me to get an honestly ranked diversity of songs. So here's the list. No download links this time; I got in trouble for that last year. Sorry.
My Favorite Songs of 2010:
Disqualified for using steroids:
Sufjan Stevens - Impossible Soul
Top 25:
25. Cloud Cult - Running With the Wolves
24. Broken Social Scene - World Sick
23. Josh Ritter - Orbital
22. James Vincent McMorrow - We Don’t Eat
21. LCD Soundsystem - Can Change
20. No Age - Glitter
19. Broken Bells - October
18. Jonsi - Go Do
17. Kanye West - Runaway
16. Horse Feathers - Thistled Spring
15. The Tallest Man on Earth – You're Going Back
14. The Lonely Forest - I Don’t Want to Live There
13. Sufjan Stevens - Futile Devices
12. Frightened Rabbit - Not Miserable
11. The National - Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks
10. Arcade Fire - The Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)
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