My Top 40 Albums of 2009: Numbers 40 Through 33

As with most things this year, this first installment of my favourite albums of 2009 is a few days late. Last year, I posted one of these every Friday until the last week of the year. Of course I was also basically unemployed. I will try my hardest to post the remaining four installments on time. I only recently realized that it was also the end of the decade, and after having a mini panic attack, I’ve decided that I will only do a top albums of the decade list if I feel like it.

If you were with me for this last year, you’ll recall I tried to run down the main album releases throughout the year while writing a blurb on each of eight albums for each post in the countdown. By the time I hit my top eight records, the blurbs are a bit larger and I’m usually kicking myself about missing something out or wanting to change the order slightly. And probably the most difficult installments to create are the first couple – my very favourite albums seldom change, but I tend to shuffle around the lesser ones as my mood shifts its fickle little feet. I also include one runner-up to the list in each installment, so make sure you scroll right to the bottom. Feel free to criticize or let me know what your favourite albums of 2009 are.

The last year of the noughties began with a few notable releases in January, including albums from John Frusciante, Bruce Springsteen, Franz Ferdinand, White Lies, Stuck in the Sound, Andrew Bird, and It Hugs Back along with a slew of ampersand bands like Matt & Kim, Antony & the Johnsons and Ruby Jean & the Thoughtful Bees. Animal Collective’s critically acclaimed Merriweather Post Pavilion also released to the slavering jaws of indie hipsters everywhere. February saw the return of the Mozfather and the less exciting return of Lily Allen. It also featured releases from Jessie Evans, The Joy Formidable, David Shane Smith, Yuksek, Gentleman Reg, and another solo turn by Robyn Hitchcock. The unfortunate dog vomit that is the sophomore record from The Fray was balanced out by the raved-about-C86-throwback The Pains of Being Pure at Heart.

And so off we go to the countdown…

40. Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix – Phoenix
It’s a tad ambitious inserting your band’s name where Mozart’s should be, but high on their increasing visibility through 2006’s It’s Never Been Like That and its accompanying hit Marie Antoinette-assoicated single Consolation Prizes, Phoenix went right ahead. Judging by the opening two tracks, Lisztomania and 1901, you’d think the French band was going to continue squarely on the path of Consolation Prizes, eschewing the loungier end of their retro pop for frothy powder wigs of song; then something rather more interesting happens by track four, Love Like a Sunset Pt. 1. It is also unfortunately where some critics seemed to fall out of love with the record as the music builds through buzzing and bubbling electronic textures to some vocals by the time you hit the considerably shorter Love Like a Sunset Pt. 2. And perhaps the record seems a bit disjointed in spots because Thomas Mars and Co decided to use Eno’s Oblique Strategies. Even if I don’t love every track on this album, it does prove that Phoenix is at least thinking about different ways of being pop.

1901 – Phoenix

Love Like a Sunset (Pts 1 and 2) – Phoenix

39. Through Fire – Twiggy Frostbite
Last year, I included Swedish band, The Deer Tracks, in my Top 40, and this year, it’s Twiggy Frostbite, which shares both sound and members with The Deer Tracks. That same vocal which defined the whispering tenderness of The Deer Tracks is present here, as ephemeral as a light puff of throat-warmed breath melting frost on the windowpane. The music itself descends like a feathery snowfall, sending droplets of purified sound into your ears; it is both spare and expansive, filling emptiness you never knew was there.

Eye For an Eye – Twiggy Frostbite

Thrown in Two- Twiggy Frostbite

38. The Empyrean – John Frusciante
The Red Hot Chili Peppers have always just been incidental in my life – I’ve heard them on the radio since I was a child and never really gave them much more thought, let alone any solo projects which ensued. I now realize how mistaken I was to dismiss former guitarist/songwriter John Frusciante, especially since I’m only just taking notice at solo album number ten. The album title itself can be defined as “highest heaven” and “the pure element of fire,” and there is something definitely ethereal about the strains of mournful virtuoso guitar, bouncing and wavering like dying stars gasping their last celestial, dusty breath. At the same time, there’s a steady burn of psychedelic jamming, and Frusciante’s vocals hover around the edges of sound like a satellite broadcast or as though sung through a cellophane envelope of ozone. A couple of the tracks on the record even feature Johnny Marr. One of my favourite songs on this record is the opening track, Before the Beginning, which is epic and anthemic just by using electric guitar and slow, minimal drums. His version of Tim Buckley’s Song to the Siren is also androgynously beautiful, strong and fragile. Like the soundtrack to the birth of the cosmos, this album surprised me in wonderful ways.

Before the Beginning – John Frusciante

Central – John Frusciante

37. Travels With Myself and Another – Future of the Left
Rising from the angry ashes of Welsh band Mclusky, Future of the Left has crept in and out of my music playlists for the last couple of years. With the release of this second album, I’ve taken far more notice, and felt comforted after the unfortunate dissipation of Mclusky. This sophomore album is full of snarling, punk jabs and augmented by rather expansive banks of melodic guitar. The relentless melody grinds against the raw vocals and short bursts of Gang of Four-like minimalism, creating a less predictable sort of noise rock. Bloodied screams punch through lyrics about existential angst, religion, economic realities, drunkeness, and the random meaninglessness of events, scattering myths and mores in its wake. This album is like punk music for the dramatic, but with a pitch-perfect sense of satirical humour.

The Hope That House Built – Future of the Left

That Damned Fly – Future of the Left

36. Nonsense in the Dark – The Filthy Dukes
This London-based synthpop band pretty much came out of nowhere for me earlier this year, eventually even going on to mix their own FabricLive record. Nonsense in the Dark then went on to entrap me in some of the sweetest electro melodies and beats that I’ve heard this year. The track This Rhythm is one of my favourite songs of the year, and the rest of the album keeps the momentum going with Tron-like precision. There is definitely a whiff of the 80s about this record in its often New Romantic-like vocals and robot disco sound, but it isn’t forced; these songs were expertly handcrafted for dance. Even the slower numbers like the title track retain a pop sensibility as alluring as a sweep of ultraviolet mascara. And one of my favourite artists, frYars, makes a guest vocal appearance on Poison the Ivy.

Elevator – Filthy Dukes

Messages – Filthy Dukes

35. Yes – Pet Shop Boys
It was a happy technicolour day (with ironic cloud cover) when Tennant and Lowe came back with their tenth studio album after three years (read my review here). While it could be argued that the duo had lost some of their spark over the past few albums, Yes showed that they have kept their ascerbic, urbane commentary as memorable as their music. Whether observing the trainwreck that was Pete Doherty and Kate Moss (Pandemonium) or dissecting fame and wealth more generally (Love Etc., Beautiful People), they proved that they could still create music with icy distance and gloriously brilliant flourishes while questioning how a concept like love fits into our wireless new world. Testing the shiny surfaces of this decade, they hit their targets time after time, their bows as arched as an eyebrow. 

All Over the World – Pet Shop Boys

Did You See Me Coming – Pet Shop Boys

34. xx – The xx
I admittedly came late to the xx party, not bothering with listening to the album until this month. As much as their cryptic name suggests, they lurked about my periphery for several months, topping the Hype Machine for days at a time. I then discovered that this low key, dreamy record was poignant in its chiming guitars, clipped xylophone and prominent kicks of bass. The vocals from Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sims are aloof yet soulful, a duet of hushed pains and pleasures. It’s a subdued record, but all the more powerful in its compressed containment. In Shelter, there’s a heartbreaking simplicity to the lines: “Maybe I had said, something that was wrong/can I make it better with the lights turned on?” xx is an album alive with subtext, begging to be uncovered.

VCR -The xx

Shelter -The xx

33. Temporary Pleasure – Simian Mobile Disco
I’ve been a fan of Simian Mobile Disco for a few years now, and this sophomore album has reinforced my love for them. This time they’ve utilized a plethora of guest vocalists, including Gruff Rhys, Beth Ditto, Jamie Liddell, Alexis Taylor, and Yeasayer’s Chris Keating. All of these singers lend more than just their voices; there is a distinct shift in feel and genre despite the consistency of SMD’s electro backdrop complementing them. For example, Rhys’s song generates a psychedelic sheen, Ditto’s song turns into a soul disco number, Taylor’s track becomes an exotic sort of electro, inheriting some of Hot Chip’s flavour, and Keating’s Audacity of Huge takes a laundry list of materialism to a skittery arcade sound. The possible schizophrenia holds together brilliantly with the glassy beats rolling into one another like a silvery necklace shot through with lasers.

Cream Dream (featuring Gruff Rhys) – Simian Mobile Disco

Cruel Intentions (featuring Beth Ditto) – Simian Mobile Disco

This installment’s honourable mention is God Help the Girl’s self-titled album. It’s an interesting release in that it’s basically an offshoot of Belle & Sebastian and that it’s a soundtrack to a musical film yet to be released. The 1960s French pop sound that Scottish bands like Belle & Sebastian and Camera Obscura have embraced is all over this album like a warm mustard-tinted sweater while focusing on a distinctly feminine set of vocals, including Catherine Ireton, Celia Garcia, Dina Bankole, Brittany Stallings, Asya, and Anna Miles. While Stuart Murdoch makes an appearance himself and also incorporates a guest vocal from Neil Hannon, this is a female-focused narrative as evident from the title itself. Filled with the off-kilter wit and retro tweeness that defines his regular band, Murdoch’s foray into musical films is off to a good start with this soundtrack.

God Help the Girl – God Help the Girl

Stay tuned for the next installment of the countdown this Friday.