Will Carroll is the Lead Writer for Sports Medicine at Bleacher Report. He lives in Greenwood, Indiana and thinks his opinion about music matters just because he saw David Bowie play at Market Square Arena. You can find him on Twitter at @injuryexpert.
While Fall Out Boy didn’t have the (spoiler alert!) top album on my list, they did perfectly capture the zeitgeist of the year. Save Rock And Roll? Maybe their album and the concept of the quick-change re-formation of a genre-defining band could be perceived messianically if you’re drinking enough tequila and absinthe for breakfast, but by the end of 2013, you could make equal cases for popular music needing to be saved and being just fine.
In fact, I could argue that this is the deepest year in several. Even without going into some popular genres like hip-hop, manufactured pop and what passes for country these days, I could look at the tenth album and see it in the top five in years past. You could go deeper and look at albums that didn’t make it like Daft Punk, Kurt Vile, Mona or even Arcade Fire (which I didn’t get yet again and even more than normal) to make the argument on depth.
Any music, any genre, has to have a connection that goes beyond the mere technicality. I can appreciate an Yngwie Malmsteen solo or the latest twist of phrase in a Blake Shelton song, but I have no emotional connection to it. I’m not the target demographic and we don’t speak the same language, largely. In the same way that Kendrick Lamar and Macklemore don’t speak to me, a mid-40s white guy living in the Midwest, there are some that latch on to my psyche in ways that go well beyond the quality of the song or even the album.
There are songs that to this day cause a visceral reaction. Whether it’s Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” or The Cure’s “Pictures of You”, even thinking about them gives me a feeling in the pit of my stomach that defies a description beyond the emotional or even mystical. I got that in spades this year. Music is just flat good right now and rock and roll doesn’t need saving the way that country does. You just have to look a bit deeper for it, which makes all the tools we have now even more important.
As I did last year, you can go to Spotify (spotify:user:injuryexpert:playlist:2V89fvrWyVDiCicQMr2JeI ) and listen to the whole list, if you haven’t already.
Where Does This Door Go, Mayer Hawthorne
This is the album where music stopped being a bit of an in-joke to Mayer Hawthorne and started getting serious. What’s interesting is that in doing so, he shifted from making Motown sound-alikes and went to a real blue eyed soul in the mold of Hall & Oates and Steely Dan. Hawthorne retains some of the Marvin Gaye vibe of his previous album, but with a better sheen. He’s focused more. While this album would fit in well at any party, there’s something beyond “party album.” The interesting part is just how good Hawthorne has become vocally. He’s perhaps the closest thing this generation has to a Daryl Hall; in fact, his appearance on Hall’s show with the legendary Booker T seems to have been a turning point for him. It’s a surprise that Hawthorne can make a great album with solid writing and yet hang with great pop voices like Justin Timberlake and Robin Thicke. Hawthorne has made a timeless album that retains a modern feel and anchor and its sheer playability makes it one of this year’s best.
Fourth Corner, Trixie Whitley
Whitley first made this list fronting the band Black Dub a couple years back, announcing herself a talent worthy of the notice her name would give her in certain circles. At times, Trixie’s voice, phrasing and song choice recalls her father painfully. She has the gravity inside her voice that few others do. If she’d gone a bit more anthemic, she could well be put alongside Adele. There’s every bit of heartbreak and bitterness dripping from her smoky vocals. This is an album of feeling and mood more than a vocal showcase, even though it works as that. Almost everyone for whom I played this album was just stunned at the quality of Whitley’s work, both in her singing and songwriting. There was almost no commercial uptake of the album and Whitley tours small clubs, which makes her a must see if she comes near your area. There’s no album you’re going to feel more this year. Having it in second position this year is no insult, but it very nearly stayed in first for me. It’s that good and it deserves your support.
Such Hot Blood, The Airborne Toxic Event
This is the second time that The Airborne Toxic Event has been my third favorite album. The other one was number two. That’s consistency. TATE might be my favorite working band right now and live, they’re a dynamo. They remind me more and more of U2 every time they release something new. It’s not stylistic but a focused passion. On record, Mikell Jolett’s intriguing voice continues to get by on confidence and passion more than the more common vocal tricks of modern music. The songwriting is complex and dense, again with more than a nod to early U2. While their commercial acceptance hasn’t quite grown, they’re building a base. I could see them exploding with their next album, if they happen to have one of those big consciousness moments the way U2 did with Live Aid. I had seen U2 on the Unforgettable Fire tour in a medium sized venue in Austin (and I found a recording of it a few years ago. The show was almost exactly what I remembered!) and I wouldn’t have thought they’d go from that to the world stage and own it the way they did. Seriously, who do you remember from Live Aid — Queen and U2, right? Do you even remember the Led Zeppelin reunion? Madonna? Phil Collins playing both? No, we all want that breakout moment where a band explodes beyond our Walkman and into popular culture. TATE could do it and has had it in them since their first album. Watch their “All I Ever Wanted” concert from the Disney Hall and tell me they don’t own the stage like few bands. Such Hot Blood could well be their October. A great album that was a small step forward, not the big step that was coming.
The 1975, The 1975
There was a song back in 2011 by a band called The Slowdown called “Sex.” It had this great early U2 riff and a drive that the radio seemed to be lacking at the time. I was really looking forward to the album. Fast forward a couple years and “Sex” is still a great song, but the band is now “The 1975” and in the time it took their record company to get this record out, the musical landscape has changed. The 1975 have a spot-the-influence style with U2, The Cure and The Police at the forefront, with interesting guitar work and rhythms combining with typical teenage outcast can’t get a girl angst. The album rewards careful listening and not just because of the Mancunian accent that can be a distraction. It’s still a universal when they sing “She’s got a boyfriend anyway!” with a plaintive aching that every guy and girl has felt at least once. This album isn’t just solid technically, but really has a heartfelt feel that belies its backstory. And c’mon, any album anchored by songs called “Sex” and “Chocolate” better rock the bleep out!
Bad Blood, Bastille
The cover of this album is the clue. It looks like a movie poster and this is truly cinematic music. The continual comparisons to The Cure are reasonable, but where Robert Smith always looked inward, Dan Smith (no relation, I checked) has a much grander view. The gregorian chant of “Pompeii” is unlike anything on the radio in any format, but it’s a unique touch that makes a bit of a tortured metaphor into a brilliant pop song. There’s a ton of Eighties era pick the influences, but once you realize Smith sounds a bit like a less confident Dave Gahan, you’ll get things a bit more clearly. If you keep in mind the cinematic quality of the album and treat it like something of a loose concept album, it rewards the approach. Indeed, the obvious tip of the cap to David Lynch makes it even more interesting. There’s about as much to this in terms of layers as Lynch had in Twin Peaks, but there’s as little focus at times as well. There’s never a lack of ambition and when it hits, it utterly soars. “Icarus” and “Flaws” approach the heights of “Pompeii” and that’s no small praise. Bad Blood is the first album since The Killers first two albums or M83 that takes the Eighties as something more than a pastiche. There’s a lot of different directions this band could go in the future and all of them are interesting. I can only hope that some filmmaker likes this album and wonders what Bastille might do with an actual soundtrack, hopefully something of a modern John Hughes film, if such a thing can exist.
Days Are Gone, Haim
Oftentimes, I’m as guilty as the next at trying to compare one band to another. Like with athletes, comparing anyone to a Hall of Famer does both a disservice, but I really, really don’t see why Haim keeps getting Fleetwood Mac comps. Not in the sound and certainly not in the essential tension of that band. Instead, I hear a lot of Eagles, Jackson Browne and other California bands that Haim directly descends from geographically. The three Haim sisters fit together until you don’t know which are singing which part, which is pretty amazing. Haim puts out some great songs that genre-hop but always have their heart in sheer musicality. There’s a punk ethos in there as well, even in odd moments. One of my favorite moments on the album is the end of “Honey and I” where it turns into a head banging rhythm of passion and energy, taking the song from a sweet little Rickenbacker with echo Petty-esque love song into something a bit more energetic and maybe a bit darker. I can’t wait to see where this band goes next.
The Civil Wars, The Civil Wars
This album almost didn’t happen. It’s still unclear what the issues of ambition were between Joy and John Paul, but the idea that this album almost didn’t exist is crazy. This is Americana perfection, the kind of hybrid beauty that lives in a pocket between country and alternative. With today’s narrow genres, that’s even more telling. The songs are tense and uncomfortable, but also beautiful and universal. Songs like “The One That Got Away” drip with venom and yet cause you to hit repeat. An unexpected cover of “Disarm” will have you re-listening to Smashing Pumpkins and even then wondering if it really is the same song. I don’t know if Civil Wars will ever tour or if they’ll survive another album. What I do know is that at worst, we have an Uncle Tupelo situation. We may end up with two great acts or one sublime one in the future.
Southeastern, Jason Isbell
Jason Isbell got sober and made the best album of his career. The yearning that’s always been in his songs refocused and went from reaching for the next bottle to reaching for the light. He found love and instead of becoming sappy, he tried to figure out where all the good in his life came from. He did it without being too navel-gazing or losing connection with his roots. It wasn’t so much that the music changed as it was that Isbell changed. The set still feels like every live show is going to end up with a case of Jack Daniels broken in the box, but he walks away and heads to the next show. His writing tightened, his viewpoint narrowed, and he lost nothing of his strengths in the translation. Southeastern might be the best album of an already solid solo career for the former Drive By Trucker, but I don’t think it is the best album he’ll ever do.
The 20/20 Experience, Justin Timberlake
This one is probably the album that moved up and down the list the most during the year. Should it be rated as one album or two? I decided to go with one “Experience”, given the name and while it doesn’t really work as a whole, it does seem a zeitgeist of the modern Sinatra. Hang on, I know some of you just did a spit take, but there’s not really anything closer. He acts, he sings, he goes on SNL and owns it, he dates the hottest starlet and while you may not like him, almost everyone wants to either be him or be with him. That Timberlake has re-invented himself to the point of self-parody ignores not only the talent but the taste. Timberlake and Timbaland is one of those combinations that simply works. The downside I have with this album is that while it’s well crafted and has moments of ecstasy (“Mirrors” is a candidate for best song of the year and wedding song of the decade), it’s just not one that I particularly enjoy. It’s a mood album and for a pure pop concoction, it’s not one that is easy listening. There’s a structure and a darkness here despite the party atmosphere. It’s like Timberlake has a self-doubting inner voice and while everything is going perfectly for him, he’s waiting for something to go wrong. There’s enough singles here to last another six years, but if he waits that long, we’ll be another three Biebers into the future and one of the kids from One Direction will be trying to take Timberlake’s crown.
Save Rock And Roll, Fall Out Boy
Fall Out Boy says they only came back to save rock and roll and you can tell they were earnest about that. They don’t shy back from taking everything bigger. This is an album that verges on the overproduced, but they’ve really just taken pop-punk into a space that plays in a bigger arena and brings in almost a glam element. It’s hubris that has the band singing alongside Elton John on the title track, the same way they used Elvis Costello on their last album. It adds a gravitas that keeps them from rushing headlong off the edge to pomposity. Patrick Stump could sing the phone book and with the oblique lyrics spread around the album, maybe he does. There’s more catchphrases and hooks than real emotion here, which holds it back. It’s an album of sketches that almost get there. Sometimes it hits, like the ubiquitous “Light ‘Em Up” and sometimes it misses, but you never feel that they’re holding back. Its the rock and roll equivalent of Will Ferrell, or maybe Courtney Love, who’s also on this album in the one moment that goes way too far. I can appreciate an excess like anyone, but having heard Patrick Stump’s solo album, I can only hope he can find that middle ground between his excellent work on Soul Punk and the commercial acceptance of his band.
Wild Child, Tyler Bryant & The Shakedown
Jimi. Stevie. Today, we have Joe Bonamassa, who occupies an odd space, and some guys like Steve Vai and Joe Satriani that are odd niche relics. Kenny Wayne Shepherd and Jonny Lang never made the next step up the way guitar heroes used to. Tyler Bryant is the next possibility. He makes a very classic rock/blues hybrid and while the whole work is rough around the edges, the talent is obvious. There’s probably not better guitar work in much of music last year and for a debut, Bryant and his band acquit themselves well. He does go much in the vein of early SRV and Lang/Shepherd, kind of a hybrid pop/blues mix that comes off as half-baked much of the time. Artistic freedom doesn’t come on the first couple albums, but I’d love to see a live show where Bryant and his guys cut loose a bit more. Now here’s the odd thing. His voice sounds amazingly like Dan Reed, a teenage favorite of mine. Go ahead, listen to the two back to back and deny it. I hope Bryant soars more than Reed did, but its apropos that the two albums they made in 2013 are ranked back to back. It’s like the past and the future overlapped a bit and it’s not a bad thing at all.
Signal Fire, Dan Reed
Back in the late 80s and early 90s, Dan Reed Network was my pocket band. A girl I dated loved their stuff and my hormones locked on. Dan Reed never broke big and he kind of vanished, becoming a Portland legend but I’d honestly all but forgot he existed. After hearing Tyler Bryant, I was reminded of Reed and checked him on Spotify. I was stunned to find he had a new album out! I was even more stunned to hear how good it was. It’s not the same kind of music. He’s a bit more mystical, but a lot more mature as well. His voice isn’t quite as dynamic, but for a 20 year gap, he still sounds pretty good. He’s still making a power pop that goes unappreciated in the modern market. It’s a damn shame because I could hear about half this album on the radio that exists in my mind, but not on my dial. Don’t make the same mistake. This is probably the album on the list where you went “huh?” Go listen. The beauty of Spotify and similar services is that you can click on everything and listen and decide for yourself. (If you haven’t heard Dan Reed Network before, go listen. Jon Brion went on to be one of the biggest forces in pop music and there’s a lot of his genesis in their music.)
Oblivion Hymns, Hammock
I got to see Gary Clark Jr. live this year. It was an electric show in every sense of the word. The guy shredded, the crowd was awesome and the acoustics of the small venue always work well. He was one of the few artists I’ll actually venture out to see due to his reputation for live work. Yeah, I’m an old guy and concerts are expensive. I don’t need to hang at the bar anymore and like with sports, I’d rather listen at home. That said, I would go out of my way to see Hammock. They’ve played one concert in their entire career that I’m aware of, a special one for Jonsi at an art gallery. I’m honestly not even sure what instruments they play or if its something that can be done live, though with EDM artists become live shows, anything’s possible. Hammock’s the opposite of those DJs, a post-rock power that’s much more mellow than Mogwai or Explosions For The Sky. Hammock cuts to the emotion of a piece and creates a soundtrack that’s every bit as cinematic as Bastille. It’s tougher to connect to Hammock. It’s challenging, though songs like “Tres Domines” show that they could be a bit popper if they wanted. They don’t. They own this ambient space. Hammock also released a B-sides and rarities compilation that should have been on this list as well. Oblivion Hymns is Hammock at their best and I feel like it’s one that I’ll look back on and wonder why it wasn’t higher on my list.
Beyonce, Beyonce
It’s hard to just listen to this album and take it on it’s merits because of all the other things it is. A secret album dropped here at the end of the year makes it hard to put in context. There weren’t leaks, no hype, no single, no promotion, unless you count putting a secret album up front and center on iTunes as promotion, which you probably should. For me, it’s the “visual album” thing that’s interesting. Not many artists have the wherewithal to do videos for every song, but then again, there’s some pretty amazing Kickstarter videos, so the cost is coming down and the creativity seems to be going up. The album feels like many things. It’s art with a definite feel of Jay-Z looking over his wife’s shoulder, though perhaps we should really start thinking of his album in context of the partnership. The songs are solid, some of the best of her career, and really introspective while remaining commercial. I have a feeling I’m really underestimating the importance of this album. Honestly, it dropped so late in the year that I debated pushing it until next year so I could absorb it and put it in context. I just can’t rate this higher now because it doesn’t often speak to me. While “Single Ladies” was one of the catchiest tunes of all time, it wasn’t exactly hitting me on an emotional level. Beyonce feels like a bridge between two eras and with more and more artists getting the control of their own destinies, perhaps Destiny’s Child shall leads them. (The album isn’t on Spotify, given its iTunes exclusive status, but I used her classic “Crazy In Love” as a placeholder, so enjoy.)
Magna Carta … Holy Grail, Jay-Z
Taken on it’s own, this is not Jay-Z’s best work. It’s not Black Album or Blueprint. He’s in a different time and place now. He’s not on a street corner. He’s talking art, fashion and family throughout because that’s his life now. The streets? Maybe Fifth Avenue or the metaphoric equivalent. Real is real and now Tom Ford is where his mind is, not on his money. Indeed, “Picasso Baby” becomes more than metaphor. He’s an investor, a collector, a tastemaker, but more than any, an artist. His transcendent video for the song apes Marina Abramovich’s “The Artist Is Present”, even including Abramovich. He rapped for six hours, connecting over and over with the famous and the ordinary, going face to face and finding a connection with each of them. There’s not many people that could carry this off and fewer still that would have the balls to try it. A rapper, an art gallery, and about five feet of space. Intimacy is harder than arenas and Hov has taken the art to a new level. Great album? No, but great artist.
Spirit In The Room, Tom Jones
Johnny Cash did it first and best, but a lot of great singers find themselves towards the end of their careers doing what they did first—just singing. Tom Jones is on his second album of this kind of work, where he does covers and reminds people of just how great his voice is and that the power isn’t the only thing. “I was born with the gift of a golden voice” isn’t ironic when Tom sings it like it was when Leonard Cohen did. It’s not Jones at Caesar’s Palace, which is an utter classic, but it’s such a strong heartfelt performance that it grabs you and won’t let go. Jones should do an entire album of Tom Waits covers based on how he handles “Bad As Me”. Some of Waits’ earlier material is made much more for someone like Jones than someone like Rod Stewart. Jones could sing most anything, but sing he does and his taste shows that he knows what he can sing best. Don’t sleep on Jones. This isn’t a gimmick. This is an artist.
Push The Sky Away, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
No one is cooler than Nick Cave. If I could choose a speaking voice, Cave and Neil Gaiman would be at the top of the list. Women swoon at the sound. Cave has never had huge commercial success here, but his work in film, both writing and scoring, has given a new depth to his work. Its not cinematic in the same sense as his scores or even Bastille, but there’s a storytelling that’s always been at work in Cave’s best stuff. Instead of screaming or kicking, Cave smolders now, willing to let the story play out and see what happens. A song like the title track comes to you while the literary interplay of pop culture in “Higgs Boson Blues” simmers slowly. A song like “We Real Cool” takes the best of the album, the best of Cave’s bauhaus storytelling and turns it into something that might be heard from Robbie Robertson or even Tom Waits at his early career best, when a pop song might sound as smart as this.
The Electric Lady, Janelle Monaè
Janelle Monae is one of the more interesting artists out there. She’s quirky as heck, but retains a pop edge. In fact, it seems that pop side of her is almost wanting to come out more, but quirk is winning the battle. This isn’t a bad thing, though I’m not a fan of quirk for quirk’s sake. Monae’s continuing “storyline” about androids is hard to follow, but allows her a safe method of discussing race and gender. If she wanted, Monae could stick to simple pop and be the female Bruno Mars without blinking. She has more ambition however. The songs remain solid, very Prince by way of Andre 3000. Indeed, it’s Andre’s The Love Below that most reminds me of Electric Lady. It’s not quite to that level, which is a ridiculous standard but Monae may have it in her yet. Even Outkast wasn’t this good on their second album. The third was Stankonia. Listening to Monae made me good back and revisit The Love Below, which is enough of a recommendation as I can give for it. It’s amazing how great that album is and how well it holds up after almost a decade.
Spitfire, LeAnn Rimes
LeAnn Rimes grew up. Good or bad, depending on whether you read TMZ or not, there’s no question that her voice stayed amazing through the process. It’s one of those pure country voices that can cross over to almost any genre, but is best used in a ballad with equal parts twang and soar. On Spitfire, Rimes tries a bit too hard at times to go Pistol Annies, but at moments her voice is so ridiculously beautiful that it can bring tears to your eyes. The material on Spitfire is equally hit or miss, with only Rimes’ voice as a consistent element and yet, somehow that’s enough to get it on the list. There weren’t very many good country albums this year as the genre continues to both re-define itself and splinter all at once, while remaining popular at the same time. Rimes fits where ever things land and while her latest is good, she could be even better.
You Were Right, Brendan Benson
Brendan Benson is still trying to find a solo career, which is stunning. This is the album that Jellyfish would have made if they kept making albums. Benson is in that power-pop mode with a Paul McCartney-esque voice and a strong voice in his songwriting. While you hear almost nothing of The Raconteurs in these songs, that’s hardly a surprise. You didn’t really think Jack White was in a band, did you? Benson shows he can stand on his own with a collection of songs that are variations on a theme. It’s music that people should like, but Benson’s consistency disguises his talent. There’s no standout single but if you like good pop music or wish that there were more albums like Rubber Soul or Welcome Interstate Managers out there, this is for you.
Bonus song – Pictures, Terry McDermott
I’m an unabashed fan of The Voice, but they’ve yet to launch an artist. Danielle Bradberry has the best chance after winning last year, in the mold of a Taylor Swift replacement for the younger set while following the Carrie Underwood “real country” path, which is ironic when you step back and think. McDermott’s classic rock voice is one of the best to come out of any competition and this song shows some Rod Stewart/Faces edge to it while remaining commercially viable. That he doesn’t have an album yet and that this song didn’t become a massive hit makes me lose faith in what’s left of the music business.