Citizendick Toasts the New Year: Notable 2008 Albums

Dear Reader,

Our relationship is just starting. You don’t know what we’re all about. While you may have read Our Pledge To You, there’s no way for you to be sure that the things we’ve said are actually true; maybe our opinions are poorly reasoned, maybe our ears suck. In the spirit of showing you, as opposed to telling you, what we think about music, we’re kicking off with a list of albums we found to be exceptional from 2008.

We did not put these in any order (That’s a lie. We used the alphabet.). All of these albums are great; we did not feel inclined to say that one is better than another. Is the visceral stomp of Black Mountain “better” than the dirty eclecticism of White Denim? Who gives a shit? We don’t. If you have these albums already, you’ll agree with us. If you don’t, you can feel confident that they’re worth the effort to obtain.

This list is us. It’s good to meet you.

Citizendick

The Black Angels - Directions to See a Ghost - Light In The Attic Records

The Black Angels do brooding, droning dirges very well.  At times, this album seems a bit self-indulgent (sixteen minutes of gloomy wandering to close things out probably wasn’t warranted) and the songs, in general, are a bit less accessible and catchy than those on their previous release, Passover. With that said, it is still a great album; they seem to be drifting more towards some of the darker elements of Passover, away from the hooks of that album, but they execute those few ideas with precision and skill.  One of the more intriguing elements throughout is the subterranean shredding at the edges of the mix; the solo guitar is rarely out front, but underneath a layer of sonic muck.  It gives the impression that there’s more to hear if you listen a bit closer, which has kept me returning to the album in search of the stuff I’m missing.  There’s also some inventive instrumentation at points.  The evil hand shaker on “Science Killer” alone is worth the price of admission.  Our love of Passover and songs like “Mission District” make us excited to hear where the Black Angels go next—Brian

Black Mountain – In the Future - Jagjaguwar Records

From the orchestral crescendo at 1:30 of “Angels” to the toe-tapping sludge of “Wucans,” this album is hands down, the best I’ve heard in a long time.  I can’t take it out of my rotation, primarily because each listen provides new layers.  On one hand, it’s a crawling, deliberate stomp into the psychedelic metal of Black Sabbath, Jefferson Airplane, and Pink Floyd.  Simply put, it captures what those superbands did best:  A morose dive into listless darkness…emotional neutrality.  On the other hand, some of the more ballad-like tunes separate Black Mountain from a typical throw-back band.  There is gentleness in the back and forth vocals of Stephen McBean and Amber Webber.  Black Mountain’s eponymous debut album in 2005 was a fabulous precursor of things to come.  In the Future is more mature, finely crafted, and technically sound.  The power-riffs blend beautifully with the dissonant harmonies and lofty, epic fills. This album grumbles from top to bottom, and is a must have for anyone who missed the muddy drawl of its predecessors.—Kevin

Blitzen Trapper - Furr - Sub Pop Records

The Oregonian sextet, Blitzen Trapper, garnered critical acclaim for their 2007 LP Wild Mountain Nation with an aural assault of eclectic noise, post-punk attitude, and countrified sentimentality.  Lead vocalist/guitarist Eric Earley stated in interviews that WMN was primarily driven by individual singles, and his approach to album organization was song-by-song.  Enter the follow-up album, Furr, released by Sub-Pop Records in the fall of 2008.  Since it’s release, this freight train is gaining speed, and it’s time to get in line if you haven’t.  Furr still incorporates the diversity an immensely talented group of six musicians can wield, but melts each of the tracks together, through consistent stylistic experimentation and delicious wolf, wilderness, and country motifs.  The album begins with organ-styled keys and with a sweeping guitar and vocal arrangement in “Sleepytime in the Western World.”  It’s impossible to ignore the heavy Dylan, Lennon, and Jerry Garcia influence stylistically in the album’s opening.  “Gold for Bread,” the band turns left and rocks out.  The LP is superb, all hype pushed aside, and is deserving of all the accolades it receives.  The key points of interest are “Black River Killer” and, of course, the sing-along wolf-howling title track, Furr.  “Black River Killer” modes a pseudo hip-hop rhythm into a wild-western ballad, complete with Dr. Dre’s Chronic synthesizer rolling through the background.  We have seen BT live several times between the three of us, and we can’t speak highly enough about this album.  I can hear them howling shrilly at the dawn….–Kevin

It worries me that the first Sub Pop release from the Trappers is less adventurous than last year’s Wowie Zowie-esque Wild Mountain Nation.  The good news is that they do the safe play very well.  They’ve made a much more focused record, with fewer weird left turns, but it all hangs together nicely.  The best tunes evoke our shared American heritage, violence, acoustic guitars and the unexplored wilderness.  The things I like the most are still the songs that wouldn’t fit on a Crazy Horse album in 1973, the 1840’s gangster rap of “Back River Killer” and the pseudo-Floydian dub riffs of “Echo/Always On/Easy Con.”  We saw Blitzen Trapper open for Iron & Wine in Buffalo this winter and they didn’t play any of the weirder, harder rockers, like “Devil’s A Go-Go”; the fear is that Blitzen Trapper is just trying to put the ball in play, instead of consistently swinging for the fences.  We hope that this album’s swap of the rocket ship for the rocking chair isn’t permanent.—Brian

Blood on the Wall – Liferz - The Social Registry

What would happen if Joey Ramone became paranoid schizophrenic, added a haunting-voiced chick to the band, and basically attempted to spit in the face of his own genre?  Blood on the Wall, that’s what.  I’ll begin by stating emphatically that this NY-based outfit is extremely underrated.  The punk hybrid the band creates is not complex, but then again, complexity comes in the construction, and BOTW structures each song in an almost mocking spirit.  Here’s a conversation I had with the album earlier this year:

Album: Hey guy.  I bet you’re ready for all the great hooks and melodies you’re going to hear.  Right?

Me: Dude, you bet.  I can’t wait.  Bring them to me.

Album: Sorry.

BOTW is anti-hook.  Everything is here, the rhythmic punk riffs, attitude, and melodic verses.  However, just at the point where you crave conventional chorus standards, Brad Shanks rips everything apart.  He teeters on the edge of insanity, and any place a standard hook should go is replaced with digression. What fun it must be to wash away all hope for any sort of coherence and safety.  Evidenced in “So Sorry Sarah” and the monstrously unnerving closing track ”Acid Fight,” BOTW is a band that leaves me uncomfortable, and the rejection of their own genre is why some folks are lagging behind on these guys.  Get the album, turn it up, and get a shrink on speed dial.—Kevin

Deastro – Keeper’s – Ghostly Records
After a few listens of this album, it’s hard to imagine that Deastro is no more than a skinny 22-year-old kid from Detroit with a synthesizer.  Combine that with the fact that he recorded the entire album in his parents’ basement and it becomes even more unimaginable.  But both of these things are true, and on his debut effort, Keeper’s, Randolph Chabot shows us that we can expect great things from him in the future.  Keeper’s is very much an ambient album, but it’s ambient on the verge of full-on rock and roll.  Think M83 on steroids or LCD Soundsystem if James Murphy wasn’t a douchebag with a shitty voice.  Make no mistake though; this is not an album to dance to.  It is an album to rock to, to drink to, and, if the mood strikes, to fight to.  From the opening track to the end, Keeper’s is a truly engaging album that manages to captivate and intrigue even on the small handful of instrumental tracks scattered throughout.  And of all the remarkable aspects this album has to offer, perhaps the most relevant is the ease with which Chabot blazes through 9 tracks of ambient/punk only to close with “Child of Man, Son of God,” a curiously, yet somehow appropriately, folky acoustic number that would be as much at home on an Iron & Wine album as it is here.–James

Deer Tick – War Elephant - Partisan Records

Although this debut was released in 2007, it’s re-release in 2008 is quite a treat–I can include it on my top albums of the year.  To begin, any album with bikini-clad chicas touting assault rifles captures my heart for sure.  A little more dabbling into research suggests that gun-toting is a part of this brilliantly executed persona that surrounds Deer Tick.  All show-boating aside, the album is simply killer.  Other reviews will attach an immediate country label to this record, and while country jams are present, I feel this label is ultimately a limited representation of this expansive record.  I can’t ignore the feeling that something big is happening here, and we here at Citizendick roundly urge you to hop on board, as well.  For starters, John McCauley can absolutely shred.  At the heart of the album is, indeed, his brilliant guitar work.  From elaborate finger-picking to hard minor-chord jamming, this album has it all.  In addition to the guitar, it’s McCauley’s voice that vibrates steadily and raspily throughout. This kid was pumping out tracks in his parents’ basement just three years ago, and his vocals express a maturity and musical talent much beyond his years.   Key tracks are the rowdy and dark “Standing at the Threshold” and the disquietably danceable “Baltimore Blues No. 1.”  The album ends with an emotional plea to his maker on “Christ Jesus,” and Willie Nelson-esque, xylophone and orchestra string driven “What Kind of Fool Am I?” The loophole in release issues puts War Elephant on this list because John McCauley’s band has created a hardened, weathered, and rhythmic debut with just enough badass to keep the teenage country freaks at bay.—Kevin

Dr. Dog – Fate – Park the Van Records

These are great songs; there’s nothing tricky going on here, just sunny piano, hand claps, smooth guitar work, gravelly vocals and the blues (and one notable Eno rip-off in “The Old Days”).  Kind of one-dimensional?  Yup.  Uber-consistent?  Yup.  Delightful listen?  Yup.  My wife likes it, which is saying a lot.–Brian words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words w words words words words words words words words wordsords words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words words

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Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes – Sub Pop Records

Everybody loves multiple-part harmonies; this is deeply ingrained in our DNA, it reminds of us a time when we gathered around a communal fire and raised our voices to merciless and confusing heavens.  The Fleet Foxes wrap an album around these primal harmonies.  It is a doozy.  The moment the record hinges on, where the vocals and the strangely baroque instrumentation all mesh perfectly, is at the three minute mark of “Ragged Wood”.  There’s a radical change in tempo, some “oh-oh-oh” ing, a manic, but still subdued, bass riff, then the soaring vocals (strangely disconnected from the first three minutes) erupting with the tympanic drum crescendo .  Tell me anything you want.  Any old lie will do.  Call me back to.  Back to you. The other thing that sticks with listeners here is the tail end of the record, the last plaintive wails of “Oliver James.”  While most of the songs are about layers of sound, here we get frontman Robin Pecknold isolated on a blank aural canvas, one more howl for the road.  This is music for threshing wheat.  Bring me my sickle; turn it up.—Brian

Harlem – Freedrugs - Female Fantasy

Much like their city-mates, White Denim, Austin’s Harlem gave us a stomping debut in 2008.  It’s lo-fi, fuzzy, garage rock that reeks of late 60’s Stones. Inflated reference?  Possibly.  These guys are young and new to the scene, but the album picked up plenty of cred and, references aside, the album makes me think of surf-wax and whiskey.  I haven’t taken it out of my rotation since the band sent it to me from their myspace page in a pen-written envelope, complete with my address crossed out and re-written twice.  However, inside the envelope’s messy packaging is neatly developed album art, professional.  This, in a sense, is a great metaphor for Harlem.  The music is sloppy on the outside.  There are recording flaws, laughing in the background, misplaced oohs and ahhs, but what is extremely important to note, is that this is only the outer packaging.  It’s what’s inside that listeners can’t ignore.  “South of France” is easily one of the best songs of 2008, and it’s last minute is a honky-tonk kick to the ribs.  Harlem is funny.  They tell jokes.  They laugh.  They are rock n’ roll.  We just don’t get enough of this today. “Psychedelic Tits” is only the halfway point of the album, but by this point, listeners get it.  They’re entranced in the world Harlem creates.  This three-piece doesn’t take itself too seriously, and, call me arrogant, but I think there were a few bands historically that made millions doing just that.—Kevin

Megafaun - Bury the Square - Table of Elements Records

My colleagues are a touch less fond of some of the more wandering aspects of this album, but, the more I listen, the more it all feels purposeful and important.  There are only six tracks and the album clocks in at just under forty minutes, so there are periods where Megafaun take their sweet time in developing the songs, but it doesn’t feel like they’re aimlessly noodling.  The devolution into white noise and the slow, eventual rebuilding of an ordered soundscape in the last six minutes of “Where You Belong” strike me, after repeated listens, like a well written novel; the collapse and rebirth of the tune tell the listener to push on through hard times; things will get weird, but the sun is always going to come up.  The use of found sound and tape manipulation seems to be another statement about music and the world; everything is music with careful attention.  There are also great songs; “Drains” is a beautiful folk song and the down-home spirituality of “His Robe” is outstanding as well.  The album itself is tremendous, but the philosophical underpinnings push it over the top.–Brian

My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges - ATO Records

My Morning Jacket are better live than they are on record.  I love their studio albums, but Okonokos offers the definitive versions of many post-It Sill Moves songs.  As such, I tend to view their releases through the lens of their live show; the good songs on this record are great live, and the questionable songs are palatable in the same context.  “Highly Suspicious” makes no sense as a recording, but is wildly entertaining live.  “Smokin’ from Shootin’” and “Touch Me I’m Going to Scream” are tremendous, but if The Jacket ever release another high-fidelity live recording with this album’s closer included, I’ll never listen to the original.  With this in mind, there are several live MMJ performances available for free on the internet that offer a more satisfying experience that this year’s official output.  Jim James’ solo performance at Newport Folk (available here) is stellar, includes a couple of the mellower Evil Urges material and a killer Gil Scott-Heron cover.  For full band treats, I’d recommend the 8/16 show at Louisville’s Waterfront Park (available here).  You get pretty much the whole new album, spiced up with live flourishes, 13 minutes of “Cobra” (!) and Jim rambling about the impermanence of time.  These two freely available live shows go a long way to proving that Evil Urges doesn’t suck.—Brian

Coming from the perspective of a casual My Morning Jacket fan that has been happy but slightly underwhelmed by their previous efforts, Evil Urges is the crowning masterpiece from a band with infinite potential.  I realize that I’m going against the grain a bit by heaping praise on this album, the Louisville band’s 4th full-length studio effort, and placing it on a higher pedestal than their previous work.  But I honestly cannot stop listening to this disc, and each time I hear it I love it more.  In many respects MMJ has stayed fairly close to their roots in southern and prog rock on Evil Urges, though their current release is a bit lighter on the reverb and trends away from the overly psychedelic sound present on past discs.  The result is a truly listenable album that is outstanding from start to finish and is devoid of the dull moments and pretentious noodling that have plagued otherwise excellent previous releases.  The album starts strong with three all-out rockers, including the superb title track, before settling into a softer, alt-country mid section that is sometimes more country than alt.  But Evil Urges truly hits its stride in its final third, starting with the hard-rocking jam “Aluminum Park”.  From there it glides into the Pearl Jam-inspired “Remnants” before closing with the stellar combo of “Smoking from Shooting”/”Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Part II”, which I’m certain will be a staple of every MMJ live show for the next decade.  Whether or not you are a long time MMJ fan or have never even listened to them before, this album is not to be missed.–James

Okkervil River -The Stand Ins – Jagjaguwar Records

If I was a blogger way back in 2007, The Stage Names would have easily been on my top album list, and The Stand Ins picks up right where last year’s Okkervil River left off.  These guys really should be world famous rock stars, and while I understand few of you know me, what’s important about this album is that it was my standby.  When I shuffled through my music, struggling for the right song, I knew I could always turn to “On Tour with Zykos,” the lyrically edgy ballad about politics and invoking muses.  Maybe it’s that my girlfriend shattered my heart in 2008 that makes “Calling and Not Calling my Ex” so tragically endearing.  The six minutes of banjo plucking brilliance in “Lost Coastlines,” contrary to many typical album reviews, sets this record higher than The Stage Names.  The entire album is an arsenal of poetry, both musically and lyrically.  Vocalist Will Sheff hits me square where it counts.  For Okkervil River, songs are compositions, words mean more than filler, and through a great portion of 2008, I couldn’t help but turn to this gem again and again.—Kevin

Marnie Stern – This is it and I Am it and You Are it and So is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That - Kill Rock Stars

The sophomore effort of this NY finger-tapping rocker builds upon much of the greatness of her debut, In  Advance of the Broken Arm.  What immediately attracted me to this album in 2008 is the tempo.  This album starts with insane energy, and Marnie’s ambition oozes throughout.  At the heart is really Marnie’s axe and voice, her guitar finger tapping a soaring mixture of jazzy dissonance and pop hooks.  Many musicians build a lot on other musicians’ sound, but of all the 2008 albums I listened to, this holds its own as entirely unique; the album begins with nervous tension with “Prime,” almost as if a battle is going to happen between her vocals and her six-string.  ”Transformer” is the metallic, high-charged song most reviewers turn to cite, and not without merit.  However, it’s the two tracks “Ruler” and “The Crippled Jazzer” that point to the musicianship of Marnie and her band.  In these songs, the drumming of Zach Hill is brilliant, and moves this almost alien stab at guitar rock along.  As the melodies veer back and forth, it’s the bandmates that keep much of it together.  Moreso than her debut album, this one rocks out.  It’s loftier, more ambitious, and the lyrical ambition shows how much Marnie is improving stylistically.  I have a sneaky feeling we’re going to see more tunes like “The Crippled Jazzer” on her next LP, but when we’re dealing with a groundbreaker, it’s really anybody’s guess.—Kevin

The Story Of - Until the Autumn - Leroy Godspeed Records

Austin, Texas act The Story Of quietly dropped  Until the Autumn on us at the tail end of the year.  The five piece band confirms to us that the concept of an entire album is not dead, and each listen to the record uncovers a new layer and vibe.  Three members of the band have music production degrees, and while most self-recorded music contains flaws, Until the Autumn fires way past a typical homegrown album.  Even upon the initial run through, the band’s earthy tones and autumnal arrangements sing through.  The album was recorded in an old cabin along the banks of the Colorado River, and it musters its energy from those surroundings.  The opening track, “Berkeley” is a dreamy pop track on first listen, a nebulous and keyboard driven enigma on the second.  Being a five-piece, the band has so much latitude to create sound, with multiple part harmonies and the dual vocals of Christman Hersha and Alex Huff haunt and mesmerize throughout, namely in “Veteran’s Day,” an anthemic journey, complete with snare drum rolls and musical shifts into an intense crescendo to close.  What dominates this record is it’s tone, just like the popping colors of the fall.  Each song is an uplifting mixture of alt-pop candy.  Fittingly, the album closes with its key track, “Centralia,” a lofty song with a speaker wrecking keyboard and guitar sandwich that will remain with you long after the album closes.  We have spoken with The Story Of, and with a new EP out in the Spring, some MTV2 airtime and SXSW on the horizon, when they ask us repeatedly isn’t it, isn’t it wonderful at the end of the album, it’s hard not to answer with a huge, Yes.—Kevin

TV on the Radio – Dear Science - 4AD Records

I have been a big fan of TV on the Radio from the beginning.  I bought in to the hype that surrounded their debut Young Liars EP in 2003 and I’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid ever since.  I love the horns, the fuzzy guitars, and the soulful vocals that TVOTR have come to be known for, and their 2008 release, Dear Science, does not disappoint.  At its core, Dear Science is not a grand departure from the previous two full-lengths put out by the Brooklyn-based group, though it definitely has a brighter, more upbeat tone.  But make no mistake; this is not a happy album lyrically by any means, which is perhaps part of the appeal.  The juxtaposition of melancholy vocals with upbeat melodies is nothing new, but TVOTR is able to blend the two together so seamlessly that it never feels forced.  And they do all of this while seamlessly bouncing from genre to genre, blending shoegaze to funk to jazz and back again.  The opener, “Halfway Home,” kicks things off with a slightly restrained vibe reminiscent of a toned-down rendition of “Wolf Like Me,” but by the time you hit the chorus of “Dancing Choose,”  just two tracks later, all hell has broken loose.  This ability to build to the point of explosion and then settle back into calm, almost gospel-like melody is the premise that TVOTR was built on, and they are really hitting their stride here.  Other standout tracks are the lead single “Golden Age,” the danceable “Red Dress,”  and the deliciously raunchy closer “Lover’s Day.” –James

Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend - XL Recordings

Vampire Weekend’s much-hyped debut fuses smart guy lyrical content with African rhythms and frenetic, treble laced guitars.  The obvious and oft-cited touchstone here is Paul Simon’s Graceland.  Other folks, dripping with artifice, will tell you it’s really about some Kenyan folk group that put out two albums of hand-pressed vinyl in 1982.  In reality, this album just rocks, references be damned.  It’s up-beat, it’s sunny, some of the lyrics, while clearly a product of some fancy college, are hilarious (it doesn’t get a lot more Ivy League than a song about the Oxford Comma, but, as an open oppenent of serial punctuation, it makes me smile).  To that hilarity point, how many of us have asked “Is your bed made?  Is your sweater on?” while frantically buttoning up our flies?  The iterative shifting of Walcott (keyboards, drums, strings) is amazing and the hook in “M79″ is one for the ages.  Put it on, don’t think about if and where it was ripped off from; mix your Benetton clad lady a gin and tonic and shake your ass.—Brian

The Walkmen – You & Me – Gigantic Music

The Walkmen pull the listener into this record quickly with the stellar opening track, “Donde Esta la Playa” and don’t let go; they establish a theme of longing and wistfulness from the get go (there is still sand in my suitcase, there is still salt on my lips) and push that concept through the rest of the album.  Songs about lost love and wasted time set to jangly guitars with deep, mysterious percussion work extremely well throughout.  While the album is remarkably consistent, there are some moments that leap out of the speakers; the whistling at the end of “On the Water”, the rickety toms of “Four Provinces” and the comforting, homey piano and muted horns of “Red Moon” all serve to keep the sound diverse and interesting while hammering home the melancholy.  The vocals of Hamilton Leithauser are superb, as well; when he goes up top, the listener feels it deep in the bones.  The longing and emotion sounds real.  He means it.  Word around the street is that the Walkmen take no prisoners live.  If this album is any indication of their ability to bring the gut-wrenching feeling, we’re hoping for a stop in Cleveland in the new year.—Brian

White Denim – Exposion – RCRD LBL

Austin, Texas power trio White Denim have all the hype and mystique of a virgin’s first sexual encounter, and I can’t help but wonder if all of the rock-critics have drawn White Stripes comparisons because the choice of band name.  Certainly, the 2007 EP, Let’s Talk About It, gave us all plenty of promise of bluesy, fragmented, and raucous energy.  Workout Holiday, released only in the UK, is basically the Exposion LP, reshuffled with two tracks added, but has added to the mystique of the band. Likewise, the new US release can only be purchased at the band’s website.  Specifically, I include Exposion on my 2008 list because of it’s ripping apart at the seams mixed with total ambiant control that intrigues me.  This album shows a completely diversified White Denim playing puppet master, and their strings are grainy, tangled purposely in brilliance.  Exposion begins its journey with  ”Don’t Look That Way at It,” a warbly anthem with two transversed guitar loops jumping double-dutch in a choppy rhythm. This juxtaposition defines the rest of the record:  Complete fragmentation and outward disorganization that the trained ear dissects into a completely linear pattern.  The onomatopoeic “IEIEI” is a bluesy jam with shrill vocals, worthy of the hype this band has garnered.  The trebly guitar work on “Shake Shake Shake” hits all of the chords we want to hear.  What makes this album difficult to categorize though is it’s diversity.  The two instrumentals, “WDA” and “Migration Wind” are jazzy tunes that drummer Josh Block keeps completely in-line as they shift relentlessly to different galaxies.  Pivotally, this album has something for every ear, and gets a top place in our list because of it’s ambition.  One wonders where this sound will grow with their next adventure.  Certainly you’ll want to be there to hear, as I’m not completely certain this was the album the hype-monsters expected; which is exactly what these boys wanted.–Kevin

The most stunning thing about this record, for me, is that songs as different as “Shake Shake Shake” and “Sitting” can be executed with such precision and perfection by the same band.  I’ve listened to both approximately 8,000 times over the last three weeks and I’m still amazed at these ideal versions of radically different idioms, a top-notch garage rock anthem and a song that would have worked on a mid-period Billy Joel record separated by three other stellar tracks. In the broader context, these guys are doing a lot of chameleonic shifting; listen long enough and you’ll hear traces of everything from Phish to Stan Getz.  Another striking thing is the informality of the album; it is not polished to a high shine.  There are missed notes and background conversations and the like, all of which serve to remind the listener that this is, at its core, a performance.  It sounds, almost, like a well-produced live record.  James Petralli crystallizes my feelings about this band when he sings, oh honey, I’m so fortunate we met.  Indeed.–Brian