Stop buying your albums at the supermarket

Or, How I Learned To Stop Whining and Love Belle & Sebastian
Or, The Year (Such) That (It) Was, Part II

As has become customary, here indeed are my picks, two and a half months into 2007, for best records of 2006. Agree, disagree, I don't care; '06 was the best year for music since 2002. Now, 2007 is looking like it'll be even better than that, but that remains to be seen; it's off to a good enough start with the Shins, the Earlies, and the Apples in Stereo, plus the promise of new music from the Polyphonic Spree, Wilco, the Smashing Pumpkins, Common, and the Stooges, just to name a few, it's gonna be an interesting year. But that is the year that is coming; this is the year that was...

1. The Life Pursuit by Belle & Sebastian
   There are two types of Belle & Sebastian fans that I’ve met. The first type will tell you, “Everything B&S has done since Tigermilk has been crap!” The other is far more understanding: “Tigermilk was good and all, but they’ve done some fucking awesome stuff since.” I belonged to neither of these groups, finding the poster children of modern indie pop occasionally intriguing but a little too indie-college-kid-in-a-sweater-drinking-a-large-mug-of-hot-cocoa for my taste. Until now: The Life Pursuit succeeds on every single level.
   
   I’ve heard critics call this record “genre hopping in the best way” and “adding muscle to the saccharine B&S sound,” but I’m not sure I agree with either of these assessments. Rather, I think this is a sunshine-pop record in the vein of Sunflower, a psych-pop masterpiece like Odyssey and Oracle, and an ork-pop wonder akin to Songs in the Key of Life. The influences of the Beach Boys, the Zombies, and even Mr. Wonder himself are evident throughout the thirteen tracks, and the great feeling won’t go away, never letting up for any album filler.
   
   Best tracks: “Another Sunny Day,” “Dress Up In You,” “Sukie in the Graveyard,” “For the Price of a Cup of Tea”

2. Bang Bang Rock & Roll by Art Brut
   Everyone talks about debut records having “promise.” That was the catch-all word for the Strokes, Kanye West, and Gorillaz. What they often don’t tell you, however, is that “promise” often means that the record doesn’t deliver as much as it seems like it should, sort of like an overpaid NFL first-round-rookie running back who has “promise” but only manages to average 2.8 yards per carry and sits on the bench for three-quarters of the season, only entering the game if it’s already over or when the 1,000-yard former MVP goes down with a season-ending knee injury.
   
   That’s not the case with Art Brut’s debut, however. The opening track literally leaps out of the speakers and incites the downest, dirtiest parts of your rock ‘n’ roll soul to scream out in unison with lead singer Eddie Argos, “Formed a band, we formed a band! Look at us! We formed a band!” That, and the album never lets up – even slower songs like “Rusted Guns of Milan” have a genius narrative that is seconded by Beatlesque harmonies and Ramonesy grit. In almost any other year, this would be the best record by a mile.
   
   Best tracks: “Formed a Band,” “Emily Kane,” “Rusted Guns of Milan,” “Good Weekend”

3. Ten Silver Drops by the Secret Machines
   When I first heard about this record, I fell in love with the opening track right away, just based on its title: “Alone, Jealous & Stoned.” ‘Cause, I mean, shit, I’ve been there before. What I didn’t expect from these guys, however, was to create a near-perfect album that is relentless as it is heartbreaking in a way that channels both Beck’s Sea Change and Wilco’s “At Least That’s What You Said,” thought with a decidedly Spiritualized bent.
   
   Then, I saw the Secret Machines at Lollapalooza, where they opened their set with the afore-mentioned track. It might have been the most cathartic moment I had all year, as I screamed out every single word whilst the hot summer sun beat down on my perspiration-drenched face and the smell of pot and stale beer echoed in my nostrils. Every syllable I yelled out in unison with the band took me over, resonating from Grant Park down to wherever in the hell my ex-girlfriend was that particular moment. “Sitting at home,” I called out, the Chicago skyline swaying with me, “What am I doing??? A boy sitting by the phone, alone, jealous and stoned!!!” But the real moment came a few seconds later when, just as on the record, the music broke down to simply a piano and bass. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I was barely able to contain my now-bleeding catharsis when, in three-part harmony, the anger of the previous verses faded away to sheer anguish: “I waited for you … I’m always waiting for you.” At the end of this refrain, the song kicks into high gear, adding uptempo drums and sing-songy guitars, and the anguish becomes triumph, giving a big musical middle finger to the person guilty of mercilessly breaking a heart. The next time the refrain comes in, it soars with a feeling of hope that completely obliterates the gnashing of teeth it previously indicated, and the “I’m always waiting for you,” indicates that the narrator is simply sick to motherfucking death of waiting on this person. Yes, there are several other absolutely amazing tracks on here; but “Alone, Jealous & Stoned” would be worth the $15 or whatever CDs cost all on its own.
   
   Best tracks: “Alone, Jealous & Stoned,” “Lightning Blue Eyes,” “1,000 Seconds”

4. Just Like the Fambly Cat by Grandaddy
   For the fourth time in as many records, the late California techno-sunshine popsters have graced us with a perfectly dystopic record. Though not the best (The Sophtware Slump), most surprising (Under the Western Freeway), or most satisfying (Sumday) of their studio records, it proves once again why Grandaddy will go down in my personal history as one of the greatest bands of all time. Lead singer Jason Lytle manages to sing emo without emotion, metal without the heavy, and pop without the sugar; meanwhile, the soaring guitars and thundering drums amidst Enoesque background ambience creates this overwhelming feeling of unease that meshes perfectly with the digital landscapes portrayed in every note.
   
   On a personal note, I’m really, really going to miss this band; they broke up shortly after the release of Cat. The Sophtware Slump stands as one of the best albums of the decade (only Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci’s How I Long To Feel That Summer In My Heart gives it any legitimate competition), and I’m firmly convinced that the band was more than just Lytle. Rest in peace, Grandaddy.
   
   Best tracks: “Jeez Louise,” “Rear View Mirror,” “Shangri-La (Outro)”

5. Rabbit Fur Coat by Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins
   Jenny Lewis has one of the most beautiful voices in the alt.country landscape. But here, she manages to turn from country-rock chanteuse to a clean-burning coal miner’s daughter. Instead of delving further into the roots-rock pantheon, which seemed to be the direction to which Rilo Kiley was headed, Lewis’ first solo record jumps head-first into classical country, even reinventing “Handle With Care,” the single from supergroup The Traveling Wilburys’ first record. And that voice. “Rise Up with Fists!!” is gorgeous, as she goes all Neko Case on our asses, and “You Are What You Love” simply tears me up inside – a perfect breakup song. Loretta Lynn came out with one of the best records of her career last year; Jenny Lewis did her schitck one better.
   
   Best tracks: “Rise Up With Fists!!,” “Melt Your Heart,” “You Are What You Love”

6. The Obliterati by Mission of Burma
   From the opening track, I was hooked. This record is the second-best of the band’s entire career, and that’s saying something (although they have admittedly few releases). I dare you – I double-dog dare you – to try to write a hard-hitting post-punk song like “Donna Sumeria,” which manages to merge the punk aesthetic with, of all things, disco, against which punk was rebelling. This is a fucking balls-out rock record, and it will kick your ass, too.
   
   Best tracks: “2wice,” “Donna Sumeria,” “Nancy Reagan’s Head”

7. Lupe Fiasco’s Food & Liquor by Lupe Fiasco
   He’s a sci-fi nut, a skateboarder, and a Chicago boy who I first heard teamed with Kanye West at Lollapalooza. He dresses like Theo Cosby, and he’s got almost as sweet a flow as fellow Chicagoan Common (whose Be was, in retrospect, the best record of 2005). This kid’s got it goin’ on, and he crafted the single best rap record of the year, outshining the more-hyped Jay-Z return, which, by the way, was a piece of shit; and also outshining, in my humble opinion, the much-vaunted and critically-acclaimed Ghostface Killah record. Lupe wins for flow of the year, and I can’t wait to hear what he does next.
   
   Best tracks: “Just Might Be OK,” “Kick, Push,” “The Cool”

8. Super Extra Gravity by the Cardigans
   Yes, yes, yes, this is the same band that did the noxiously brilliant “Lovefool” a decade ago. You probably didn’t think they were still around, didja? Surprise! They are, and they’re better than ever. This is the Swedish ABBA-wannabes’ best record, period. It’s fun, it’s bouncy, and it’s everything that Garbage tries and fails to be.
   
   Best tracks: “Losing a Friend,” “Overload,” “In The Round”

9. At War with the Mystics by the Flaming Lips
   U2 did it and was praised. Prince did it and was reborn. Hell, Bob Dylan did it and was deified. So why is it that when the Flaming Lips pause to do the career retrospective sound on a record, incorporating elements of their early, trippy lyrics, middle-period fuzz-guitar sound, and modern production, their record is called one of the biggest disappointments in modern memory? No, it’s not as good as the double-whammy that was The Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, but c’mon! Those are two of the greatest albums ever made. That’s like telling Dylan after Bringing It All Back Home and Highway 61 Revisited that Blonde on Blonde is a letdown.
   
   Best tracks: "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song (With All Your Power)," "It Overtakes Me/The Stars Are So Big, I Am So Small ... Do I Stand a Chance?," "Pompeii Am Gotterdammerung"
   

10. Modern Times by Bob Dylan
    Speaking of the Great One, here is the third part of Dylan’s old-timey trilogy, it’s definitely the weakest of the three records. However, since his resurgence with the pure folk records he recorded in the early ‘90s, Dylan has been on a role. “Workingman’s Blues #2” is one of the most beautiful tunes he’s ever done, and his lyrics are as sharp and witty as ever. Dylan succeeds where other ‘60s acts fail by refusing to repeat himself, refusing to become a cliché, as has happened to other greats like McCartney, Jagger, and even the late Jerry Garcia. Well done, Uncle Bob.
    
    Best tracks: "Spirit on the Water," "Workingman's Blues #2," "Ain't Talkin'"