Rant 'n' Roll

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Hey all. Happy new year.

My list of the Top 10 albums of 2011 was published in the Dec. 29 print edition of Uptown, and it can also be found elsewhere on this site. But I felt I should take some time to explain and/or expound on these choices. (I have to admit, too, that reading Jen Zoratti's year-end roundup blog posts has made me feel a little bit guilty.)

So here it, is the unexpurgated, online-only version of my Top 10 albums of 2011. The three dominant themes I could find while writing this were: women, the English social condition (even Fucked Up's concept album is set in Thatcher's U.K.) and twangy roots singers.

That said, the one thing all these records have in common is that they're pretting frickin' good.

Even if they're not to your taste or wouldn't make your personal best of... lists, I'd argue that most of you will like them all, if your tastes are broad enough.

So, here goes:

1. tUnE-yArDs – w h o k i l l

I came late to this album but I was quickly bowled over by Merrill Garbus and her melodious cacophony of drum loops, beatboxing, whispers, shrieks and words. Gangsta and Bizness are the standout tracks, but Garbus and bassist/collaborator Nate Brenner have created an entire album of cut-and-paste genre-mixing that at times defies description while at the same causing hips to shake and toes to tap. I missed their sold-out show at the West End, damn it, but video clips of tUnE-yArDs live suggest that the energy of the music becomes overpowering when paired with the sheer physicality of their live performance.

2. PJ Harvey – Let England Shake

This is an echoey, misty collection of songs inspired by Harvey's fascination with England's place in the world and her disgust with her country's history of human sacrifice in the name of geopolitical gain. At first listen, Let England Shake comes across as a haunting, ethereal collection of gently reverberating guitars and autoharp. It's only upon digging deeper that one realizes she's singing lyrics such as "I've seen and done things I want to forget; I've seen soldiers fall like lumps of meat." And that's when the real weight of this albumis brought to bear.

3. Romi Mayes – Lucky Tonight

No show I attended in 2011 was more heart-warming and triumphant than the night Romi and guitarist Jay Nowicki (aided by Ken McMahon, Damon Mitchell and Jaxon Haldane) recorded Lucky Tonight at the West End Cultural Centre. This recording is a wonderful document of that evening, capturing Romi as she aches (Easy on You), rollicks (After the Show) and stretches her legs (Ball and Chain and I Will, on piano) in front of a supportive crowd that audibly roars its approval. The indie world is such that Romi is still winning fans by the dozens rather than by the thousands - but Lucky Tonight should ensure she attracts many more true believers.

4. Arctic Monkeys – Suck It and See

With a vaguely Eastern, ringing guitar intro and the faux sincerity of a well-studied '60s crooner, Alex Turner kicks off his band's fourth album in five years serving notice that this isn't the 2006 version of Arctic Monkeys, which was all gritty realism and witty aphorisms. In 2011, cheeky Alex has figured out irony, he's bought himself a thesaurus and he steps to the mic with a set of tunes that work far better as songs than did the Josh Homme-inspired soundscapes of 2009's Humbug.

5. Lucinda Williams – Blessed

Oh, the debates I've read about Lucinda. Influential blogger Bob Lefsetz fired a broadside at her this year by criticizing her stage presence (she's notorious for bringing her lyrics onstage on a music stand and seems be absent-mindedly obsessive about keeping them in order). Some naysayers have called her out for her minimalistic approach to songwriting (to which I always say 'it only sounds simple'), and others say they're put off by her undersold delivery and here seemingly overstated twang. For me, the fleeting uncertainty that comes with listening to Williams' unravelling vocals more often not resolves itself as pure musical magic.

6. Hayes Carll – KMAG YOYO (& Other American Stories)

The acronym is U.S. Army slang for 'kiss my ass, guys, you're on your own' and the title song is a hopped-up, Dylanesque take on Copperhead Road meets Alice's Restaurant, whereby Carll's G.I. protagonist is busted in Afghanistan for selling heroin and ends up as a Special Ops drugs guinea pig. And therein lies the twist to Hayes Carll's tales. He's a honky tonk slacker who's read a book or two and ain't afraid to share his sharp observations and imaginings, all set to a genuinely affecting roots vibe.

7. Frank Turner – England Keep My Bones

It'd be easy to dismiss Frank Turner as 'Billy Bragg, 30 years later,' but that'd be selling the man far too short, for three reasons – first, he's a folk-punk poet and sloganeer for a new age of kids who've never heard of Bragg (pretty bloody important in these days of Fox News and Sun TV); second, his sensitivity and earnestness are absolutely endearing; and third, as Turner himself sings, "I still believe in the need for guitars and drums and desperate poetry." Who couldn't like a lyric like that?

8. Dum Dum Girls – Only in Dreams

There's so many 'right' things about this band. The singer (Kristen Gundred) calls herself Dee Dee. All four women wear nothing but black. Richard Gottehrer (Sire Records co-founder, producer of Blondie, The Go-Go's and Raveonettes) is a co-producer. They're not afraid to use handclaps as a percussive element. All that, plus... the Dum Dum Girls play the kind of guitar-buzzed, reverb-drenched, echo-chamber power pop that will make you think a layer of sonic crud has somehow been scraped off your collection of Jesus and Mary Chain singles.

9. Fucked Up – David Comes to Life

Fucked Up is really two different bands. One is the fiery feral beast that unleashes itself onstage – all roaring guitars and fat, bloodied singer. The other is a Polaris Prize-winning recording act that's not afraid to blend guttural, hardcore vocals and a hard-charging guitar-rock assault with ever-ambitious arrangements including strings, electronics, four-part counter-harmonies, layered vocals, horns and even a few pastoral passages (all of which reflect an ever-burgeoning musical proficiency). The band's third 'official' full-length recording is fashioned as a noise-rock opera set in Thatcherite Britain, and its song cycle follows the familiar trope of disaffected young man dealing with the vagaries of love and death and redemption in a harsh social environment. The end result is nowhere as ridiculous as other attempts to achieve similar things (My Chemical Romance, anyone?), and that's mostly because Fucked Up refuses to succumb to all the silly temptations of the form and remembers that it is, first and foremost, a rock band.

10. Greg MacPherson – Disintegration Blues

MacPherson's one of the most-talented singer/songwriters in Winnipeg, and scene-watchers have long been frustrated by his failure to break through to the broader indie firmament (Canadian or otherwise). But Disintegration Blues is a statement of intent on two levels – one, that he's still musically up to fighting the good fight and two, that he's taking control of his own career with the formation of his own label, Disintegration Records. The music here is taut and often edgier than much of what you've from MacPherson (check out the Joy Division-like angularity of the first half of Frequencies), but his urgent earnestness remains.