PART 4:
A mix of albums that were extremely important to me once upon a time but don’t make it into the rotation as much anymore, though I recognize their greatness; and albums which I’ve really loved and have stayed great over the years, but weren’t quite in the top tier.
30. Basement Jaxx 
Kish Kash
2003
This is an album I first thought was great, then a few years later decided was overrated, but I’ve come back around on. It’s Basement Jaxx’s best, not just electronic or dance, but fully danceable pop songs, with an array of guest stars (Siouxsie Sioux and J.C. Chasez are just two of the names that show up) and wild sounds and instrumentation that make each track distinct (and make damn near each track a potential hit in its own right). Even today this is still soooooo much fun to listen to.
Best Song: Lots of great choices. My pick, edging out “Right Here’s the Spot” (M’Shell Ndegeocello guests), is “Lucky Star” (with Dizzee Rascal providing guest vocals).
29. LCD Soundsystem
Sound of Silver
2007
What can I say about this album that hasn’t been said, really? It’s a terrific leap forward from the 2005 self-titled album, great in its own right as that was. James Murphy’s cerebral songwriting, his maturity and ability to look back on the scene that’s defined so much his life and career, and the wide variety of arrangements and instruments on the record make it one of the most powerful statements around that a musician’s life can begin after thirty.
Best Song: Lots of strong statements on this record, but there’s really only one choice: “All My Friends,” one of the best songs of the entire decade, period, no qualifiers.
28. Modest Mouse
Good News For People Who Love Bad News
2004
Isaac Brock’s fascination with the nature of the universe on The Moon and Antarctica moves into a full-on fixation with death in this followup. Brock’s lyrical imagery in this one talks about graves, coffins, and funerals almost constantly; how to approach death, how to live and look back on life. Like with The Moon and Antarctica, the songwriting is as incisive as ever, although the overall style of the album is quite different– redder than bluer, if such a thing makes sense to you.
“Float On” is such an odd song to be a breakthrough hit, but it’s appropriate, I suppose, that Modest Mouse’s mainstream break came from a song whose themes are virtually the opposite of everything else the band made. Sure, many of Brock’s lyrics are those of a lamenting fuckup, but it’s a fuckup lamenting over what he’s done, or what he didn’t do. The more Zen or Taoist approach that all is in balance and that the river carries us on regardless is practically the opposite of all that– an irony I hope Brock appreciates. (Then again, I often find myself similarly possessed of contradictions, so maybe it’s not ironic at all.)
(Thanks to Glyph for contributing thoughts that influenced this writeup.)
Best Song: It’s hard for me to pick a single standout, as so many of them are strong: On another day, I might pick “Ocean Breathes Salty,” “Bury Me With It,” “Satin in a Coffin,” “One Chance,” or even closer “The Good Times Are Killing Me.” But when it came to decide for this article, I went with “Black Cadillacs.”
27. My Morning Jacket
Z
2005
Jim James and crew take their jams to outer space this album– literally in at least one case– and, as will be a recurring theme on this list, the idea of escaping the ordinary world, of leaving the material behind, of the soul’s exploration of what is hidden to us, whether in outer space or just underneath what we can see– that influenced me and resonated with me strongly. The contrast in songs is heightened more than ever; the quiet songs are even quieter; the bombastic songs are even more bombastic. This is peak MMJ.
Best Song: I have two songs that I love on this album above all the rest. It’s tough to separate them, but in this case, the runner-up is “Off the Record,” and the winner is “Anytime,” that song about climbing to the moon– with Jim James’ voice big enough we believe he can actually reach it from here just by singing, and with the band stepping up to match him. (And, of course, that little wink to Madonna.)
26. Young Jeezy
Let’s Get It: Thug Motivation 101
2005
Beatles or Stones? Radical experimentation or the steady ability to move you? Hits you in the head or hits you in the torso? That’s arguably, although not quite, the question between these next two albums, the peak of crack-rap in the 2000s. In this metaphor, Jeezy is the Rolling Stones; while there’s nothing especially inventive about the songwriting or beats on here, Jeezy’s force of personality and the authenticity he brings to the record make it stand out as one that can be played over and over and still have as much impact as the first time. The whole damn thing just works— it did then and it does now.
Best Song: The rawest and realest tale of being a cocaine trafficker, “Soul Survivor.” When I talk about Jeezy’s force of personality and authenticity, think about how you can hear him grit his teeth on the line “If you get jammed up, don’t mention my name.” And in two lines he gives one of the most succinct and pointed summations of how white supremacy uses the War on Drugs to control the black population: “First they give us the work, then they throw us in jail.”
25. Clipse
Hell Hath No Fury
2006
And Clipse are the Beatles, with far more variety and creativity in their production and subject matter. In this case, I hesitate to choose one over the other– and it’s unfair to, anyway; they’re surprisingly different albums given the similar subject matter– but I have to for the list’s sake, and it’s the range of sounds and Pusha T’s sick flow that make this one get the higher ranking. Barely. They’re both really good!
Best Song: I love the accordion on “Momma I’m So Sorry,” and tracks like “Trill” and “Hello New World” are more upbeat and fun, but the charismatic Slim Thug dropping in for the chorus helps lift “Wamp Wamp (What It Do)” to the top.
24. The White Stripes
White Blood Cells
2001
Still my choice for the best album they ever did, White Blood Cells finds the White Stripes at the peak of their powers, while keeping the musicianship simple and to the point. (I can’t say the experiments on Elephant failed, but there’s something about the purity of sticking to guitar, drum, and piano that I appreciate here.) Jack White described this album as a sort of attempt to move past the blues here, and I think his songwriting steps up to the challenge. The album is practically flawless at least through the first eleven tracks (admittedly, I have trouble sorting out the back five). They go slow, they go fast, they go to jingles (“We’re Going to Be Friends”), they get punchy and to the point in under a minute (“Little Room”), and they even drop a whole ass Citizen Kane reference in there (“The Union Forever”). Just great stuff.
Best Song: I feel like I would be lying to myself if I didn’t pick “Fell in Love With a Girl,” but I just want to emphasize how really, really close I was to picking “Hotel Yorba.”
23. The Decemberists
Castaways and Cutouts
2002
This entry here is the culmination of everything you’ve seen me write about sensitive-young-man rock and twee music. The Decemberists’ thing could be so precious it would be infuriating… if they weren’t so damn good at their craft. The songwriting is evocative and top-notch, certainly gentle at turns but– and I think this is key to keep it from becoming nauseatingly twee– is plenty lively as well. A lot of overly precious music gives the impression it’s so fragile it’ll break; the Decemberists are more alive, more adventurous than that. Of course, they’re known for their 19th-century folk-tale aesthetic, but this album also has a couple of tributes to California, in its present-day form (“California One” and “Grace Cathedral Hill”). They get the balance just right here, and this album was a constant go-to for me in those days when I was just breaking out of my shell and growing into a man. And it’s stayed in the rotation ever since; I don’t listen to it heavily anymore, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten tired of this one.
Best Song: I was reluctant to put a ten-minute song on this list, so as great as that anthem to the great state of California and to the awkward outcasts of life is, I couldn’t talk myself into “California One / Youth and Beauty Brigade.” I ended up going with one of the more fun, direct rockers on the album, “July, July!” Other considerations include “Odalisque” and “The Legionnaire’s Lament.”
22. Rufus Wainwright
Poses
2001
I remember discovering Rufus Wainwright when MTV’s 120 Minutes played the video for “April Fools”; not their normal selection at all, but I instantly fell in love with its bouncy, baroque, highly orchestrated and arranged pop. I got the album almost immediately; three years later, he released an even better one in Poses, which, while I admit, I don’t love any one song as much as “April Fools,” but it’s on the whole the stronger and more consistent album. There really wasn’t anyone making music like Wainwright at the time, and this collection of songs is lush, rich, and diverse. He even covered one of his dad’s songs, “One Man Guy.” (Thank God it wasn’t “Rufus Is a Tit Man.”) Highly recommended on headphones from start to finish.
My apologies to Rufus’ sister Martha for not including her on my list anywhere. I like her stuff all right; “Factory” is probably my favorite song of hers.
Best Song: Tough to pick a standout among this set, but I ended up going with “California.”
21. Optimo
How to Kill the DJ (Part Two)
2005
Honestly a weird choice because, functionally, this is a compilation. It’s two discs, one of which is a DJ set and the other is literally just a mixtape. But it might be the best mixtape of all time, with its blend of legitimate classics (“A Minha Menina”), more obscure cuts (“Final Steps”), and overlooked girl groups (“Nothing But a Heartache”). Hell, this ranking is on the strength of that alone; this album turned me onto many of my favorite songs and artists, like Arthur Russell. (There’s also two covers of all-time great 70s artists, with Nouvelle Vague taking on “The Guns of Brixton” and The Creepers doing “Baby’s on Fire.”)
Best Song: Some definitive versions of tracks on here– The Modettes’ “White Mice” is sped up half a step and works much better– and some perfect tunes: The Only Ones’ “Another Girl, Another Planet,” for example, or Arthur Russell’s “Another Thought.” But the track I chose is a different all-time great, that psychedelic cowboy classic, Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra’s “Some Velvet Morning.”
20. The Wrens
The Meadowlands
2003
This is the biggest riser in my personal list from 2009 to now. While The Meadowlands was critically praised at the time of its release, it didn’t have the same emotional impact on me, outside of a couple of songs (most notably “Boys, You Won’t Remember”). Going back and listening to it again, though, having lived though my thirties, and the sense of regret and bitterness over all the missed opportunities and failures, and the sense of self-loathing that breeds, is much more powerful and relatable.
The Wrens had serious disputes with their record company in addition to being workaday people and simply not having the time to record; this came seven years after Seacaucus made it seem like they might break through, and they haven’t recorded an album since. It’s not only their failures to make it big that inform this album, but perhaps even more than that the failures of past relationships. Outstanding songwriting, deeply moving, and a band whose soul is laid bare in a way few take the risk to do.
(I very much recommend going through the lyrics when you listen to the album; they can be difficult to parse out otherwise, and you’ll get a much better sense of the stories being told here.)
Best Song: I wouldn’t be wrong if I picked “Boys, You Won’t Remember” again, but my obsession of late has been lead singer Charles Bissell’s tale of how his sentimentality has destroyed so many relationships (even if he might have checked out of them already), “Ex-Girl Collection.”
19. A.C. Newman
The Slow Wonder
2004
Newman took a break from headlining the New Pornographers to put together a solo album of similarly styled power-pop, and it serves as a strong reminder why he is almost certainly the genre’s best songwriter of the era. The album is full of big hooks, fills, and all the memorable moments that make for a great power-pop album beyond mere song structure. Plus, as ever, Newman’s lyrics are bold, evocative, and leave a strong impression. Enough variety on the individual tracks to stay fresh; like many of the greats, he mixes up-tempo jams with slower balladry. Still a reliably good listen.
Best Song: For the last 15 years I’ve gone back and forth a lot as to which it would be, moving from “The Town Halo” to “Drink to Me Babe, Then” to “Miracle Drug.” Some time ago, though, I settled on closer “35 in the Shade,” and its particular raucous energy.
18. Cut Copy
In Ghost Colours
2008
I wrote about this album, and while I didn’t have a lot of in depth analysis, what I did have still holds: This is more or less a perfect example of a certain kind of dancy, disco-tinged, 80s-adjacent musical aesthetic; pop that ranges from acoustic to electronic but in 100% of cases is dance-floor music. Not particularly innovative, just perfectly done.
Best Song: “Hearts on Fire.” Other contenders: Any of the first three tracks; “Nobody Lost, Nobody Found.”
17. Interpol
Turn on the Bright Lights
2002
This album attracted a ton of Joy Division comparisons on release, and it’s not hard to see why after a little listening. While sharing space with the New York City scene that bred the Strokes’ punky garage-rock, Interpol took much of the same aesthetic (“Obstacle 1” and “Obstacle 2”, for example), but added in more droning, atmospheric reverb (“Untitled”, “NYC”), and a depth of songwriting that goes beyond what the Strokes were doing and invites those comparisons to Ian Curtis and crew.
Other peers of Joy Division’s generation peek through, too. The dueling guitars of “Obstacle 1” recall Television’s “Marquee Moon”– appropriately enough for one of New York City’s hottest scene bands of the time, they throw back to 25 years prior in the same place.
There are probably other examples, but I’m now getting into the point where I’m giving you that analysis you can get anywhere. I’m hardly unique in loving this album, so I didn’t want to spend a ton of time on it, but it still shimmers, a rare example of a scenester hype beast that holds up. It was huge for me in those years, and the great songs have remained great, even removed from the years of ecstasy parties and club dance floors full of button-downs sticky with sweat.
Also, I have a theory that the song “Roland” is about their cocaine dealer. I don’t want to spend time elaborating on it if no one’s interested, but I’m convinced and it’s interpretation I’ve never seen anyone else have.
Best Song: No less than four legitimate contenders here. “Obstacle 1,” “Obstacle 2,” and “Leif Erikson” fall just short of “Stella Was a Diver and She Was Always Down.”
16. The Arcade Fire
Funeral
2004
Another legendary album from a band whose public stature has grown enormously since this debut. It’s their best record, and even though I don’t listen to it much anymore, I find it hard to deny the importance it had in my life. This is where lists break down: Does the peak impact and intensity of this album matter more than the fact that many of the ones that just appeared before it did are albums I still listen to in a way I don’t with this one? I think it’s unfair to hold it against this album for reaching an intensity I can rarely revisit in my older age. Powerful, emotional, and exceedingly well-crafted.
Best Song: God, I love when Régine Chassagne lets it rip on “In the Back Seat,” but best overall? I’m gonna be boring and go with “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels),” because I think that’s correct.
15. Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
The Tyranny of Distance
2001
The Tyranny of Distance was the first Ted Leo and the Pharmacists LP to actually contain a full band (whereas the first album under that name was really a Leo solo project). I never did listen to that first album, so how much this improved over that one I can’t say. What I can say is that this album is outstanding,
Oddly, this is another one where I went back and forth on my feelings about it for a few years. Being introduced to it through “Timorous Me” and “The Great Communicator” (not about Ronald Reagan, as far as I can tell), I really became a fan of Leo’s, but then put this aside for other albums I preferred. It wasn’t too much longer before I gave this LP another shot and discovered a bunch of songs I adored that I had previously overlooked.
And not only that, over the years, the songs on this album have continued to reveal depths to me I hadn’t previously seen in them. The more I listened to it, the more I found myself digging into the songs and really becoming enchanted by them. “Biomusicology” and its statement of purpose. (Oed’ und leer das Meer.) The peppy without being perky “Parallel or Together.” The sweetness of “Under the Hedge” and the tale of rockers growing old in “Dial Up” and the sweeping, chugging epic of “Stove by a Whale”–yes, a reference to the Essex, an inspiration for Moby Dick. Leo’s songwriting is literate in a way you don’t see all that often; it adds a certain sense of adventure, stirs the imagination in the way a great book does. (I know I had three of their albums on here, but I think Leo does this better than the Decemberists; his literate and specific references makes his worlds feel more alive than theirs.)
A little bit punk, a whole lot rock and roll. A terrific album from one of my favorite songwriters of the 2000s. I forget how many times I’ve seen Ted Leo and the Pharmacists in concert– five, I think?
Best Song: The entire first half of the album is perfect, so I chose the only way I know how, the song that first made me fall in love with the band. And that’s “Timorous Me.”
14. Eminem
The Marshall Mathers LP
2000
I’ve already said a lot about this album. It’s earned its place here.
Best Song: “Who Knew” is hilarious, but of course, it’s “Stan.”
13. The Shins
Chutes Too Narrow
2003
Possibly the most underrated album on this list in the eyes of the critics and the masses. Garden State gave debut Oh, Inverted World a ton of publicity, but I think the songwriting on this followup is much better, a terrific power-pop record that compares to Radio City in its ability to be stylistically diverse while retaining a unique sound and a creative unity.
I don’t know if this is true or not, but after listening to it many, many times, I’ve always been convinced this album was about a breakup, probably of an engagement (with lines like “Just leave the ring on the rail / for the wheels to nullify”). There’s just a lot of lines about a relationship dissolving, in one form or another– “The grey remains of a friendship scarred” in “Kissing the Lipless”; pretty much all the lyrics from “Pink Bullets.” Maybe I like it a lot because of that feeling of special knowledge. It’s something that makes this album mine in a way. Whatever it is, the songs have tremendous emotional depth on top of being an outstanding assortment of power-pop gems.
Best Song: Hard to choose, honestly. “Pink Bullets” and “Turn a Square” might be my two favorites, but when I think back to what grabbed me first from this album in a way that didn’t let go and demanded repeat listening, it was “Saint Simon,” so I’ll choose that.
12. Air
Talkie Walkie
2004
This is one of those albums that really grew on me with time. I always knew it was good and liked it (#5 on my initial list of best albums of 2004, and yes, I did write such a thing!), but over time, the French duo’s warm pop electronica was something I returned to more and more often. Perhaps not a challenging album, but a good port in a storm, and those are just as important. One of the most pleasurable listens of all time. Just a warm, safe place.
Best song: “Cherry Blossom Girl” and “Surfing on a Rocket” are deservedly popular, and “Mike Mills” (the director, not the bassist) is one of the most gorgeous instrumentals of all-time, but the warm love song of “Venus” still makes me feel fuzzy inside.
11. Radiohead
Kid A
2000
I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I listened to this album, but I mean, it’s Kid A. What can I say about it that hasn’t been said already? It was just as important to me back then as you’d imagine, and even though it’s become so familiar that nineteen years hence I don’t really listen to it anymore, I can’t simply ignore the impact it, and Radiohead, had on me at the time. I was already a Radiohead fan and a young lad of nineteen when I got this album, putting it in a bit of a different place in my developmental cycle than many of the others on this list (which, regardless of when they were released, were largely in my early-to-mid twenties). Nonetheless, you can’t deny a legend.
Best Song: “The National Anthem” makes a strong case, but if I think about what I most enjoy listening to even today, it’s “Idioteque.”