This post was submitted by Rohan

And now a whole 2 weeks late, here are my top 10 records of the decade. If you missed them, here are parts 1 and 2.

10. Arcade Fire – Funeral (Merge, 2004)

In the summer of 2004 I discovered torrents. After my first year of college, I spent my summer listening to more records, filling in the blank spots, and highly anticipating the new Interpol record. I would always check the top 10 downloads on one of my regular torrent sites, and in early August I saw a record by some band named “Arcade Fire.” I thought the name was stupid (in fact I still do), but it was the number one download! I thought I was behind the times, but I saw it was on Merge, a label I knew and trusted, so I took the plunge.

On first listen I thought it was okay. There was too much going on. The vocals were too shouty and piercing, and to boot “Crown Of Love” sounded like a Bright Eyes rip-off. I don’t know why I took offense to Regime’s vocals, I mean I was listening to a fuck-ton of Joanna Newsom at the time!

I took the record back to college with me, and when it actually came out all hell broke loose. Blame it on the Pitchfork, but Arcade Fire became the “it” band. Most of the stories involving the band revolved around their intense live performances, so I figured, fuck it, I’ll see them. That October, I saw the Arcade Fire at a smaller venue in Columbus, Ohio, and damn was it good. I changed my mind about the album. I listened to it more and more, every time gravitating towards “Rebellion, Lies” and “Wake Up.”

More than anything, my connection with this record solidified my relationship with my best friend Alex. I bought it for him for Christmas that year and it changed his life, much as it changed many of yours, especially if you started to listen to indie rock when you were in college. Because of the Arcade Fire, he started to listen to “cooler” things, and the gap that was created between us early in college started to fill with music we could share.

9. Liars – They Were Wrong, So We Drowned (Mute, 2004)

*From my review of this record for a now defunct website:

They Were Wrong So We Drowned is a fucked-up album. Some people will understand its noise and some will simply acquire a headache. If you like avant garde noise, or are interested in it…keep reading. If not, just go buy something else because this record is not for you.

The opening track, “Broken Witch,” sets the mood of the album perfectly, and after a few listens becomes instantly catchy. The pulsing drum track is spastic but danceable at the same time. Angus’s lyrics speak of men and women and rivers of blood. “I no longer wanna be a man/I wanna be a horse,” says Angus almost passively. He says “blood” over and over, as the word is repeated in the background a half-second behind him.

The shining tracks on the album, “There’s Always Room on the Broom” and “Hold Hands And It Will Happen Anyway,” are the most listenable. The catchy hook of “There’s Always Room on the Broom” makes it a great single, and the rock breakdown of the latter is the most head-banging singalong this year.

This record is not for anyone, like I said before. All tracks have a point here—there is often noise or something random, but what makes the album good is the band’s ability to hold it together. Although it may be hard to swallow, after a couple listens tracks become catchy and fun, not painful and scary.

8. LCD Soundsystem – Sound of Silver (DFA, 2007)

True story: I was a Toys-R-Us kid. Growing up, I collected action figures. I may have stopped collecting, but I haven’t left my childhood behind. One of my favorite things to do is go swinging in the park. I like Gummi Bears. I still read superhero comics.

But all of that is beside the point. I grew up this decade. I graduated high school and college. I separated from my parents. I got a real job. I pay my own bills. I know I am not that old, but when James Murphy asks, “Where are your friends tonight?” I’ve found I can’t respond. Albums like this make me feel old, but old in a good way.

I connect with “Losing My Edge” on a daily basis. I might listen to all the new records, but I find that the “kids” are lapping me. James Murphy too has been lapped, and is fine with it. Sound of Silver is a record about growing up. There is hope, regret, fear, but an attitude that one day it’ll all be over.

Having lived with this record for a while, immediate tracks like “Watch the Tapes” and “North American Scum,” though they’re dance-floor-fillers, pale in comparison to the epics, “Someone Great” and “New York, I Love You.” And while it is perfect to listen to a track here or there, Sound Of Silver gives one of the best complete listens.

7. Broken Social Scene – You Forgot it in People (Arts + Crafts, 2003)

I fucking hate driving, but I used to fucking love it. I used to drive from Maryland to Ohio all the time, but now even thinking about being in a car all that time makes me feel sick. Back when I would take trips, an essential record for me was You Forgot it in People.

For some reason it comforted me on drives, and it may be a perfect driving record, because the tracklist is so balanced. The start of the record, intro “Capture the Flag,” to the incredible “KC Accidental,” segues into the more rock tracks but then cools off towards the end. Between track one and 13 are really great singles, “Almost Crimes,” “Stars and Sons,” as well as beautiful tracks, such as “Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl.”

I still remember the summer of ’04 my buddy Paul Haney and I were at a Tower Records (RIP) and he bought it. We listened to it on the way home and I knew I had to get into it. YFIIP is a record I can pull out any time and enjoy, and isn’t that what you want from an amazing record?

6. Interpol – Turn on the Bright Lights (Matador, 2002)

Interpol and NYC are synonymous to me. I bought the record while on a trip to the city. It has only been out for a month, and I only knew the single I heard on the Matador page, but something struck me about the record. Interpol was a dark band. Their press photos were either obscured, or featured the members in sunglasses, black clothes, and cigarettes intact.

When I popped the CD into my portable CD player (remember those?) I was rapt. The music was so striking, I didn’t care that Paul Bank’s voice was the bastard child of Ian Curtis and Michael Stipe, I just loved the melodies. “PDA” is a total jam, and “Obstacle 1” was so good it warranted a sequel.

I drove through a snowstorm to see Interpol later that year. That show still stands as one of the most exciting I’ve seen; they had energy, and it was amazing. Who cares if the lyrics are stupid? TOTBL is almost perfect.

5. Radiohead – Kid A (Capitol, 2001)

I just took a “What Indie Band Are You?” test on the Internet and my result was Radiohead. It said: “You don’t remember that Radiohead is your band. Why you gucci little piggy! Pretty much the all-around perfect indie band, they’re popular, but they’re still really good and very original and they’re constantly evolving.” That description is fucking stupid, I know, but as much as I tried to skew the results and pull Pavement, Sonic Youth, or even the fucking Microphones, I kept getting Radiohead.

I used to claim Radiohead in my circle of favorite bands. I don’t much anymore, because as good as they are live, In Rainbows doesn’t do anything for me. However, I don’t know what my decade would’ve been without this record. Kid A shows a band evolving. I mean, I really don’t have much to say about the sonics of the record, because it is going to or already has topped most peoples’ lists, and might end up being the most written-about record of the decade.

I will end by saying the aforementioned Paul Haney and I became friends because of this record. In high school we both had a journalism class together. I was shy as shit, and all the kids were older than me. I heard him talking about Radiohead and I had just bought the record, so it opened the door to conversation. If I had to pick an “indie mentor,” Paul Haney would be him. He mostly listens to noise and hip-hop these days, staying away from the indie-landfill, but I have Paul to thank for the person I am today.

4. Wilco – Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Nonesuch, 2002)

If you don’t know the backstory of this record, go watch I Am Trying to Break Your Heart: A Film About Wilco. If you haven’t heard this record, go listen to it.

There really isn’t much I can say, other than Wilco will never sound this good again. It could be that Jeff Tweedy has gone off drugs, or the removal and untimely death of Jay Bennett, or the fact that Wilco are no longer hungry. They made their masterpiece and can continue to pump “dad rock” forever. Can they write another “Jesus, Etc.” or “I’m the Man Who Loves You”? Probably not.

I remember when the follow-up record, A Ghost Is Born, was released and Best Week Ever had a segment called “What Your Purchases Say About You.” The comedian made a joke, saying if you bought the new Wilco album, you are less interesting than people think you are, or something like that. You know… it is pretty much true.

3. Avalanches – Since I Left You (Modular, 2000)

Since I Left You is a record made from over three thousand samples. Can you imagine making a record based on that many samples? Not only does it take time to put it all together, but think of the legal nightmare of clearing them all!

The Avalanches made one of the most solid listening experiences of the decade. Though it is made up of all samples, it feels fresh and new. Plus without the pioneering of the Avalanches, we would never have Girl Talk, or the Go! Team.

Personally, I discovered the Avalanches after watching the “Frontier Psychiatrist“ video on MTV. I found the record the next day, and from the opening lines of “Since I Left You,” I was hooked. The record is otherworldly, tracks flow from funk to A.M. radio, TV sound collages, yacht rock, disco, house and everything in between.

The Avalanches have yet to follow this record up, although the latest word is they are “clearing samples.” I don’t know if lightning can strike twice, but I sure as hell hope it does.

2. The Strokes – Is This It? (RCA, 2001)

“Is this it?” Really, is it? The Strokes were the saviors of rock n’ roll. Pop was tearing up the hearts of youth, but in came this NYC band with a simple set of songs mining the same ‘ol sex-and-drugs mystique of yesteryear. By the end of 2001, The Strokes were the biggest band on the planet (or so the rock mags made you think).

If you have lived your life having never heard a Strokes song, you either live in a hole or your music taste is shit (I’ll go with the latter). Is This It? holds some of the decade’s best pop songs—“Hard to Explain,” “Last Night,” “Barely Legal,” and the removed-due-to-9/11 “New York City Cops.”

I’ve owned two copies of this record. Before I became a snob about keeping my CDs in their cases, I had a CD binder. I went away to a summer program in 2002 and really wanted to play the record for some friends. You can only image my face when I reached into the binder to find my copy had been split in half. I then journeyed out to the record store in town and said I’d buy the first copy I could find. I found the import version with the naughty cover, and “New York City Cops” on it.

Other than the next record on the list, I don’t think there is an album I’ve listened to as much this decade. In fact, in my school newspaper my top ten list of 2001 had this and the next record in the same order.

1. Daft Punk – Discovery (Virgin, 2001)

“ONE MORE TIME!” There is no other call to arms that could make me lose it like that. “One More Time” is a track that looks back as much as it looks forward. It can fill a dancefloor for all of its five minutes, and never let up. Hell, even with its five lines it makes decent Karaoke. Not only is it my favorite song of the decade, but it leads off my favorite album of the decade.

Early in the decade, we got higher speed internet (56K instead of 14K). I read music magazines, bought records, but in 2000 the invention of Napster changed how I listened to music. I downloaded music, I mean… who didn’t? But I discovered new music through Napster. I started to read about music online, rather than just in print. I would also search for my favorite artists to see if they had new music.

I had been a fan of Daft Punk after hearing “Around the World” in a dance mix during the lunchtime workout session on local radio back in ’98. I was instantly rapt by Homework, but by 2000 I wanted more. I searched Daft Punk, and then at the end of the year I stumbled upon “One More Time.” It didn’t hit.

I don’t know why I wasn’t instantly into it. Daft Punk had become something different. No longer mining house, they had moved to disco, and even weirder, they became robots, fucking ROBOTS! This wasn’t the band I once knew.

I kept listening, but a funny thing happened. They put out videos featuring anime aliens. “One More Time” was first, then “Aerodynamic,” then the song that sold me on all of it—“Digital Love.” I bought Discovery the day it came out. I remember having my Mom drive me to the store to buy it. It came with this Daft Club card, which I carried around in my wallet everywhere (I still have it, but I have put it back in the CD tray). I could not get enough.

It is funny to see this record so high on so many peoples’ lists, because it was kind of panned when it was released. Reviewers later made an about-face, but it wasn’t easy going. Things got weirder when the samples from the record were revealed to have been copied. It blurred the line between Daft-Punk-as-geniuses, and Daft-Punk-as-copy-cats.

Flash forward to 2007—I finally lived my dream and saw Daft Punk live. The show blew my mind, and has yet to be topped by anything. I could make up some lame stories about how this decade I was going through a period of self-discovery, and how this record helped me through all of it, which is true… but more than anything, Daft Punk make me smile.

---

First time here? See what we're all about... Get involved... Send us a tip!...

---