Yes, it’s all subjective and we know that.

Yes, it’s impossible to give a fair assessment of all the music released in some form in 2008, because collectively as a group of music lovers and writers we certainly haven’t listened to 1/1000th of the new music that came out in 2008.

And yes, we know that there are nearly as many year-end lists of the best new music as there was new music in 2008, and like the past two years, we’ve still been working on ours well after all the other blogs and sites have offered theirs (and probably by this time you’re already sick of these lists anyway).

But hey, we like this kind of thing, so why not again offer our Year-End Lists of our favorite music with mp3s and videos and stuff like that? Just because you may not read them doesn’t mean we can’t have fun writing them. What follows for the next few days will be lists from our multiple contributors in their own idioms and with their own styles and et cetera.

Enjoy. Or don’t. Whatever. At least we’re having fun.

I’ll start it off.

Day One: Scotter’s Lists

10. Kanye West – 808s and Heartbreak (buy)
Robocop

I’m pretty sure this one is on a lot of lists this year, and deservingly so. As I wrote in a previous post, the best writing on this album that I’ve read is at Fone Culture, so check it out.

Kanye wrote a break-up album in the mode in which such albums should be written: soul. You don’t rap about heartbreak–you sing it! And even though Kanye has gotten some ribbing for singing through an Auto-Tune, I think it’s perfectly normal to need a crutch here and there in order to create (or re-create, or re-build) after a profound personal injury. Even those who may not like this album must admit that it took a lot of courage on Kanye’s part to write and release it. That courage, and Kanye’s spirit, is emotionally palpable as these songs radiate out of your speakers or headphones.

But the more I listen to the album, the more I think that maybe the Auto-Tune is not so much a crutch for Kanye, as it is a layer of protection for us. Perhaps without the artificiality of the Auto-Tune, the feeling issuing forth from these songs would be too much for us to bare or understand.

9. of Montreal – Skeletal Lamping (buy)

Mingusings

I don’t think I’ll ever understand Kevin Barnes because, frankly, he seems to have a very special kind of mind that is rare in human beings. Jeff Milo at DeepCutz tries, but frankly, Milo’s writing here is kind of beyond me as well. I’d rather not try to feel and understand the anguish and emotional distraught that would cause Barnes to create and transform himself into this Georgie Fruit character. I’m no Freud (who, I suspect, would have been overjoyed at the prospects of taking apart the line “You’re the only one with whom I would role play Oedipus Rex”), but I know that parts of some of these songs are enough to make it listenable over and over and over again. I’ve heard the word “schizophrenic” used a lot to describe this album, and it’s true. Each song is similar to an episode of The Family Guy: they start out with one theme that you think will be carried out through the entirely, but then shift to a completely different storyline or theme, only to switch again to something completely different toward the end. And just like The Family Guy, you sit there entranced through every oddball turn and unexpected twist.

is not a masterpiece like Hissing Fauna, are you the Destroyer? was (my number one album last year!), but an album like Skeletal Lamping is such a deviation and weird offering in the annuls of Indie music that it’s too soon to really be able to assess it. Barnes created something very different here, and the best we can do is enjoy the irresistible hooks that occur every other song and keep listening and learning to figure out how good this thing actually is.

8. Foals – Antidotes (buy)

Cassius

I couldn’t jog to this album. You’d think it would be ideal jogging music, in a way. Dance drumming, chanting vocals, slow-building layerings of sound with steady cadences–the ingredients of a good workout soundtrack all there. But the rhythms and build-ups are more intricate than you would think. It’s always easier to work out to steady, less-complicated music that you don’t have to think about too much. And on a surface level, Foals’ Antidotes seems that way. But there’s a lot going on here, both lyrically (in the sense that the repeated chants and lines are doing a lot by not trying to do too much) and the music, which subtly changes from song to song so as to make each subsequent song unique and interesting while maintaining a consistency that holds the collection of songs together.

I was lucky enough to see Foals live at a small Detroit venue in the spring, and it was undoubtedly one of the best concerts of the year for me. This album is not getting the credit it deserves. The song “Cassius” itself is enough to make anyone a believer.

7. Beck – Modern Guilt (buy)

Profanity Prayers

OK, I can’t believe I’m going to talk about jogging again in order to say something about Beck’s Modern Guilt. I’ve officially lost all of my cool points now, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be shunned by Parliament-smoking hipsters all over Detroit (as if I’m not already). Ah, the days of once being a Parliament-smoking hipster myself! Now I’m getting a bit older, getting a little bit of pepper in my hair, and am visibly not one of the cool, young, and reckless types going to shows these days. Is this getting close to actual modern guilt? After listening to this album about 60 times, I couldn’t get much closer to what modern guilt really is, but perhaps its having followed Beck through his fourteen-year career and finding myself not dancing to, nor smoking to, nor drinking to, nor flirting with girls to, but jogging to the new Beck album! And perhaps Beck would say “hey, cool man” to my confession (should I ever meet him) that “I really like to jog to your new album!”

Oh, aging hipsters the world over! We grew up in a time when the word “hipster” wasn’t used to deride, but as a badge of honor. We had all the new music that no one else knew about. We honestly liked Barry Manilow before it was cool to like such uncool musicians. And now, we go jogging!. Beck makes a spectacular and spooky 60’s throwback album, his best (in my opinion) since Sea Change, and we jog to it! Some of us (read: me) listen to “Profanity Prayers” on repeat when jogging. Hell, most year-end lists I’ve read don’t even include this album! But hipsters of 30 and over, let us revel in our arch-hero’s continued longevity. For as long as he stays cool, so do we.

6. Mason Proper – Olly Oxen Free (buy)

Safe for the Time Being

This is the point in my Top Ten list where the distinction between “best” and “favorite” must necessarily break down. I think this is the best album of the year. Like I said earlier, I listened to a small percentage of all of the new music that came out this year, but of everything I listened to, I was most impressed, as far as quality of songs and performance, with Olly Oxen Free than any other album. This is Mason Proper’s second proper full-length album, and I really think that they have the talent to be one of the best bands in the country. The music they will be creating over the next few years will be astounding. And the only reason that Olly Oxen Free rests at numero six is that I fell in love in a more intense way with the next five albums on a personal level, although Mason Proper certainly was no slouch on my emotions and tastes in 08.

5. Walkmen – You & Me (buy)
In the New Year

Up until this morning, I had this album as my number one, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that while I like this album a whole hell of a lot, I had it at number one solely on the strength of “In the New Year.” Not to say that the other songs aren’t excellent (I’m also particularly taken with “Canadian Girl”), but “In the New Year” is the kind of song that can completely change your opinion about a band, as it did for me. My other Walkmen experiences had been ghastly. I didn’t really get it, I suppose, and the one time I saw them in concert, I thought they were terrible (and others with me that night agreed, while others not with me thought I was crazy for thinking so. Thus, I peg it as a bad night for either them or me or both). But I’m a believer now, and will be spending the first few months of 09 listening to everything Walkmen before You & Me.

4. Beach House – Devotion (buy)
Gila

This album delivered all year long. I listened to it in my car. I listened to it at work. I listened to it at home. I listened to it waiting in line. I listened to it on a plane. I listened to it on a bus. I listened to it with my girlfriend. I listened to it grieving over the loss of that girlfriend, now gone from my life. I listened to it in the morning, afternoon, and night. It put me to bed several nights, the only thing not Mozart that I fell asleep to this year. I listened to it intently. I let it play in the background while reading. I listened to it while walking through art museums. I listened to it while staring into a Rothko. I listened to it in the spring, the summer, the fall, and the winter. I whistled along. I sang along. I played some of the guitar parts along. I want to give this album to people the way that some give copies of In an Aeroplane Over the Sea to potential love interests, to show her that you’re a sensitive guy, or as a test to see if this prospective love interest is passionate and feeling enough to be a potential mate. If there was one album this year that I wish was food, it would be this one. If there was one album this year that I wish was clothing, it would be this one. If there was one album this year that I wish was drugs, it would be this one.

3. Why? – Alopecia (buy)
Fatalist Palmistry

Yoni Wolf’s lyrics could be read aloud as poetry and not lose any meaning or intent or feeling. But the fact that the lyrics are better sung and with music than just spoken gives credit to how amazing this album is.

(Note: I just spent 15 minutes trying to figure which lyrics to quote here. Instead, I’ll just note how long this action took without being able to pick the two best–they’re all so good!).

It takes a little while to be able to listen to this album from first song to last. Some of the songs–”These Few Presidents,” “Song of the Sad Assassin,” the amazing “The Hollows”–are easier to get than some of the more free-verse, nearly rap stylings of songs like “Good Friday,” “Fall of Mr. Fifths,” or “By Torpedo Or Crohn’s.” But once you familiarize yourself with the totality of songs and can then listen from first to last, then you know just how insanely well-constructed and crafted this album is. No other album this year consistently surprised me listening after listening, and I’ll certainly be spending a lot of time with it well into 2009.

2. Pas/Cal – I Was Raised on Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Laura (buy)
“O Honey, We’re Ridiculous“

I’ve been awaiting this album for nearly three years. It was worth the wait. Pas/Cal doesn’t really play anymore–all of the members are now living in different cities and with different goals and plans and such. But I can say with all honesty that the first time I’ve ever seen this band about five years ago, I thought to myself that I’m seeing the best pop band in the world. This album would have been one of my favorites no matter what (unless, of course, it would have continued unreleased).

But this isn’t just your run-of-the-mill, verse-chorus-verse pop music. In fact, the first three songs–spanning over 15 minutes total–have so many twists and turns that I might call them schizophrenic if of Montreal didn’t redefine what that word means with Skeletal Lamping this year. It’s pop that’s best consumed with open, attentive ears and given the respect you’d offer a concerto. On the other hand, I could dance my ass off to any and every song on the album (and to the Cherry Suite, I shall waltz!). “O Honey, We’re Ridiculous” is one of the all-time great pop songs.

1. Evangelicals – The Evening Descends (buy)
Skeleton Man

Every once in awhile, you come upon an album where everything makes sense together. An album where so many different elements and possibilities meet to make something unusual and special. Some bands have singers with amazing voices or vocal stylings, but the music doesn’t really make sense. Some have a flair for the dramatic in their songs, but without the resources to make their visions real. Some bands imagine complicated and interesting projects, but get too bogged down with their own creativity to actually produce something that is also enjoyable.

And then you get The Evening Descends, which is both ambitious and enjoyable, haunting and playful, joyous and disturbing. Josh Jones’ voice is sometimes angelic, sometimes the shriek of a banshee; part Daniel Johnston, part Freddie Mercury (if you can believe that!). The album features so many dramatic pace, volume, and tempo changes that it’s nearly dizzying. It’s both cinematic and operatic, grandiose and subtle. There’s a lot going on here, but none of it really calls attention away from the heart of the songs. “Bellawood” is the album’s most intense and blood-curdling track–it’s like being in a Stephen King book or a haunted house. But “Snowflakes” is one of the most gentle, yearning, and trance-like compositions I’ve ever heard, a meditation on the sadness and desperation trapped under a deep snowfall of the human heart. The line “I’ve been up all night” is sung not with the anxiety of the insomniac but the calm acceptance of defeat of the insomniac.

The album explores so many modes of rock and pop seamlessly, without drawing attention to this exploration. It’s an album that I’ve loved all year long without being able to figure it out. On a critical level, The Evening Descends must be judged with the knowledge that Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle applies: the more you figure out one part of the album, the less you grasp about other parts. It’s also like making out objects through a fog or haze: you can’t really make out exact features and you may have to squint or need a flashlight to see your way through. But if you just sit back and allow the haze to become part of the panorama of your vision, then it becomes beautiful unto itself.

Favorite Songs of 2008

“Dark Leaves Form a Thread” – Destroyer
from Trouble in Dreams (buy)

I went to my iTunes and found that I listened to this song more often on my computer than any other. That’s because it’s Dan Bejar at his best–sassy, literate, a bit pissed off, and nearly completely obscure. The build-up towards the end is one of the best adrenaline rushes of 08.

“Ballantines” – Aimee Mann
from @#%&! Smilers (buy)

Aimee Mann’s @#%&! Smilers was not stellar, but it was Aimee Mann being Aimee Mann, which is pretty great to me. Not enough to be one of my favorite albums, but this song in particular was a little bit weirder than her usual fare (a duet?) and I’d love to actually perform this thing on stage one day. It’s just plain fun, which is something that Aimee Mann is always capable of but not well-known for.

“Hugs and Kisses” – The Dead Bodies, from an upcoming EP.
Unreleased and possibly still unrecorded by Detroit band The Dead Bodies. I don’t know. The opening guitar riff became instantly stuck in my head upon first listen. It’s one of the best songs of the year and needs to be recorded and released and purchased for some million-dollar ad campaign for Pepsi or Bud Light. If it’s ever released, you’ll certainly hear about it from this blog.

“Titus Andronicus” – Titus Andronicus
from The Airing of Grievances (buy)

This is the “Blank Generation” of 2008.

In the New Year” – The Walkmen
from You & Me (buy)

Tremble Under Boom Lights wrote an early piece on “In the New Year” before the release of You & Me and it’s still my favorite writing on the song and on The Walkmen. The organ melody is more memorable than your wedding. And I absolutely agree with Tremble that Hamilton Leithauser’s lyrics are disarmingly simple, and brilliantly so. He gives the listener so much room within those lyrics to interpret as they will. “In the New Year,” like much of You & Me, is a lament on what is lost when you’re always on the road. But you can make it so much more than that. It begins:

Oh I’m still living at the old address.
And I’m waiting on the weather
That i know will pass.
I know that its true-its gonna be a good year.
Outta the darkness and into the fire
I’ll tell you i love you.
And my heart’s in the strangest place.
That’s how it started.
And that’s how it ends.

Simple, right? Well, what the old address, physical or a place in the mind? Is the weather meteorological, or emotional? Will it really pass, or are you just hoping it will–an affirmation, then, without a truth value. Darkness and fire? Is the darkness cold? Is the fire too hot, or is it a fire of absolution? The place between the darkness and the fire would be a strange place for the heart. And what’s the starting and ending? It’s all so open, the words are not specific, but open to be interpreted by the listener at will. This is one of those songs that allow you to embody it, the writer so generous as to offer his art as a cocoon of the soul, affected through music, and the lyrics sung, nearly screamed, with a burning intensity, right at the top of his vocal range, the organ like a hallelujah radiating from a cathedral, the droning guitar steadying the singer toward that new year like the grip of time, carrying us from present to future.

So much hope and longing–so human, when the human is ready to be at his or her best, and the soul is ready for a new and better beginning.

And that’s how it ends.