Ah, December. That
magical time of year when the blogger’s fancy turns to letting you know their
favorite albums of the year in a long, drawn out list. Fear not; this is not that list. That list will be released sometime within
the next few weeks. This is more of a
primer, a dual post to get you started thinking about what “Album of the Year”
really means while at the same time giving you an unasked for history of my
listening tastes over the past decade… and more importantly, how things have
changed in hindsight.
2003 Then: AFI – Sing the Sorrow
I listened to this album pretty much non-stop when it came
out, buying it after I heard “The Leaving Song, Pt. II” on the local alt-rock
radio station every day for a week. It
was both the heaviest and the darkest album I had ever heard at the time, and I
thoroughly enjoyed the dark, brooding atmosphere of the music underscoring
Davey Havok’s soaring choruses of melodrama.
My favorite moment on the album comes at the very end; there’s what
appears to be the final song, “…But Home is Nowhere,” and then as it fades out
there are some spoken word samples, along with a sparse piano riff for about
eight minutes before the guitars and singing pick up again. I didn’t realize until years later when I was
on Wikipedia looking up facts about the album (I was a wild kid, I know) that it
was two different songs (the “secret” song is called “This Time Imperfect). I had never heard or experienced anything
like that before, and even now I’ll go back to that album just for the ending.
2003 Now: Explosions
in the Sky – The Earth is Not a Cold Dead
Place
If you’ve never listened to this album while watching the
BBC’s wonderful Planet Earth series
on mute (I recommend the Artic episode), then you’re missing out. This album introduced me to everything that
Explosions in the Sky has come to be known for, and ten years later I still
think of it as their best work. The
slow, steady buildup in “First Breath After Coma,” the album’s first track, is
exactly what I believe hope sounds like, and the rest of the album follows suit
in bringing such powerful emotions to the forefront of your mind while
listening. Often when listening to
instrumental music I find myself imagining stories in my mind to accompany the
music; The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place
gives me a completely visceral, emotional response.
2004 Then: Breaking
Benjamin – We Are Not Alone
Breaking Benjamin played in my hometown of St. Louis quite a
bit after the release of their debut album Saturate
in 2002; I enjoyed their live shows and was excited to hear they were
working on new material. The album’s
lead single “So Cold” convinced me to buy the album, and I listened to it
repeatedly. I also realized when their
next album, Phobia, came out that
they had simply reused the chord progression from “So Cold” for that album’s
first single. Which was the first time I
had ever realized bands did that, and also the last Breaking Benjamin album I
bought. There’s still some deep-seeded
resentment here, I guess.
2004 Now: Neurosis
– The Eye of Every Storm
There’s no point in even pretending I knew who Neurosis was
when I was in high school; I learned of their existence sometime in
college. The Eye of Every Storm was probably the third or fourth album by
the band that I heard, but it was the first one to really grab me on the first
listen and not let go.
2005 Then: Thrice
– Vheissu
Vheissu was Thrice’s
first major departure from the post-hardcore sound that brought them into the
musical spotlight. There are tracks on Vheissu dominated by piano, strings, and
other softer instruments that would never have found a home on Thrice’s earlier
work. At the same time, the album rocks
plenty hard. From the call and response
chants of album-opener “Image of the Invisible” to the whispered background
verse hiding under keyboards and aquatic guitar riffs of closer “Red Sky,” Vheissu is Thrice at their absolute
best, blending powerful melodies with impeccable musicianship and
thought-provoking lyrics. This very
nearly held up as my favorite album from 2005, however…
2005 Now: Opeth –
Ghost Reveries
…2005 was an absolutely batshit year for music! Narrowly missing out on this spot were
Pelican’s The Fire in Our Throats Will
Beckon the Thaw, Gojira’s From Mars
to Sirius, and Meshuggah’s Catch-Thirty
Three. Hot Damn! Ultimately, Opeth wins out with me; Ghost Reveries was the first record of
theirs I discovered after my roommate had me listen to “Ghost of Perdition” and
“The Grand Conjuration” one night. I had
never heard anything like it; the seamless blending of death metal with lush
soundscapes, Mikael Akerfeldt’s vocals spanning the gamut from unholy roar to
angelic lullaby. It’s fitting that
Thrice should be replaced by Opeth in this list; if it weren’t for Thrice, I
never would have been open to listening to Opeth, and without Opeth, I’m
probably (definitely) not writing this right now.
2006 Then: Red
Hot Chili Peppers – Stadium Arcadium
I was the biggest Chili Peppers fan in the world throughout
high school, and I looked forward to this album (released my freshman year of
college) like nothing before. And it
lived up to my expectations, a double album with no real weaknesses, fitting
for both barbecues with friends and quiet nights alone with that special
someone… and believe me, I’ve used it plenty for both over the years. Stadium
Arcadium is a musical amalgamation of everything the Chili Peppers tried
between 1991’s Blood Sugar Sex Majik
and 2002’s By the Way, focusing the
raw, manic energy of the band’s live shows with enough emotional catharsis to
fill four LPs instead of two. I don’t
think John Frusciante was ever better with the band, and Flea’s bass work on
songs like “Charlie” and “Ready Made” are some of his best ever.
2006 Now: Brand
New – The Devil and God Are Raging Inside
Me
One of the few replacement albums I was familiar with the
year it came out, I actually put this album as my Number 2 of 2006 when I made
a list and posted it to Facebook seven (!!!) years ago. The resulting flip-flop is a testament to the
power of this record. The lyrics, sung
and sometimes screamed (and written) by Jesse Lacey, run an emotional decathlon
from doubt to fear to anguish to hate to suffering, and their content backs
those emotions up. I don’t know that any
Brand New record is ostensibly a “happy” record, but this is certainly Lacey at
his lowest point, pouring his emotions onto a record that was nearly completely
redone after the demos leaked early. It’s
funny to think that one of the most heartfelt, gut-wrenching albums I’ve ever
heard was almost something completely different, and I’m really glad it isn’t.
2007 Then: Foo Fighters – Echoes, Silence, Patience, and Grace
It’s not even my favorite Foo’s album, but to be honest, I
don’t remember a whole lot of what I was listening to in 2007 (probably because
I was still binging on Stadium Arcadium and
The Devil and God…) and I know I
listened to this a lot. “The Pretender”
is still a benchmark for arena rock songs, racing along before slowing down,
letting the audience anticipate, slowly building up again and then BAM! exploding
for a finale of breathless kinetic energy.
I also saw the Foo Fighters live for the first time when they toured
behind this album, so that definitely counts for something.
2007 Now: Between the Buried and Me – Colors
Quite simply one of the most incredible albums – progressive
metal or otherwise – that has ever been made, Colors is an incredible composition, one nearly hour-long piece of
music that moves through various forms and iterations with precision and deft
touch. The twenty-five minute duo of “Sun of Nothing”
and “Ants of the Sky” seems like it’s going to be the most insane, punishing
bit of music you’re going to hear on an album filled with such wonkery… and
then the album finishes with the crushing weight of “White Walls.” Music just doesn’t get much better than this.
Be sure to come back tomorrow for my Then and Now Favorites
of 2008-2012, including the first (and only?) favorite to stay the same!
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