This is not only my favorite album of 2008, but probably of this century.
The story precedes the music. Justin Vernon sequesters himself to a remote Wisconsin cabin for four snowy months, writing and recording much of what would become his debut album, For Emma, Forever Ago.
The word 'cathartic' gets used a lot in the world of music, but I can think of no other album that has been more deserving of the term. This album was made for one person, and one person only—and no, it's not Emma. This album was created for Mr. Vernon.
If you've ever felt deep loss, a paralyzing loneliness, or love's heartbreak, this album will speak to you like no other.
I will not, however, reduce such a beautiful piece of work to 'a good break-up album'. It goes so far beyond and beneath. Its themes of isolation and loss are universal, explored with a sincerity only capable from a heart that has been exposed against will, and left vulnerable without choice.
In the end, Mr. Vernon makes no lofty claims of having achieved a profound evolved knowledge or some new fundamental change.
The album closes with the lyric, "This is not the sound of a new man or a crispy realization / It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away / Your love will be / Safe with me"
It's as if he has simply surfaced, after a long time underneath. He can view from close above the wound that was cause, that first point of hot pain, and he has found peace in knowing it will never heal.

FLEET FOXES - FLEET FOXES & SUN GIANT [EP]
"The sound of ancient voices ringing soft upon your ear"
Nothing could describe Fleet Foxes better than their own lyric, heard in the song "Oliver James".
When I first heard Fleet Foxes, I suspected it might be something new from Brian Wilson. It reminded me of a documentary I had seen on the making of his long-awaited Smile album. Present in Fleet Foxes were Mr. Wilson’s signature harmonies, wonderful percussion, and the ability to layer instrumentation while still leaving space for sparse, hallow echoes that drift gently into overwhelmingly rich melodies.
Fleet Foxes songs sound of praise and worship, but are not remotely religious. It's as though they grew up signing old hymns and spirituals, listening only to folk music.
To call Fleet Foxes music 'sad' or 'pretty' would be both lazy and superficial.
There is more.
There is relief, and there is release. There is forgiveness. There is a baptism.
If you are ready, there is an end and there is something new that begins, like a new day after a deep sleep. Like a new life, after a quiet death.
Nothing could describe Fleet Foxes better than their own lyric, heard in the song "Oliver James".
When I first heard Fleet Foxes, I suspected it might be something new from Brian Wilson. It reminded me of a documentary I had seen on the making of his long-awaited Smile album. Present in Fleet Foxes were Mr. Wilson’s signature harmonies, wonderful percussion, and the ability to layer instrumentation while still leaving space for sparse, hallow echoes that drift gently into overwhelmingly rich melodies.
Fleet Foxes songs sound of praise and worship, but are not remotely religious. It's as though they grew up signing old hymns and spirituals, listening only to folk music.
To call Fleet Foxes music 'sad' or 'pretty' would be both lazy and superficial.
There is more.
There is relief, and there is release. There is forgiveness. There is a baptism.
If you are ready, there is an end and there is something new that begins, like a new day after a deep sleep. Like a new life, after a quiet death.
RADIOHEAD - IN RAINBOWS
There's just something I love about an album that sounds its best when you're driving fast on an open road late at night.
Like so many other people, Ok Computer has long been my favorite Radiohead album. Recently, however, I've found myself trying to decide which one I enjoy listening to more, Ok Computer or In Rainbows. It's not entirely fair, since In Rainbows is still relatively new and fresh. I can't count how many times I've listened to Ok Computer, but it has to be more than almost any other album. The mere fact that I actually need to think about which I like more says a lot about the greatness of In Rainbows.
If my affections for Radiohead peaked with Ok Computer, they reached their low point with Hail To The Thief, but especially with Thom Yorke's solo album The Eraser. That release in particular made me start to feel that Thom Yorke and Radiohead were more interested in being unpredictable and avant-garde than actually taking the time to write songs that were good.
In Rainbows is immensely enjoyable to listen to. Not only that, it's even more enjoyable to listen to often. It is gorgeous in its restraint, in what's left out. It is cohesive and never overwhelming or forced.
For a band that has spent a decade trying its best to be unpredictable, perhaps finally fulfilling expectations helped Radiohead be more unpredictable than ever.
Like so many other people, Ok Computer has long been my favorite Radiohead album. Recently, however, I've found myself trying to decide which one I enjoy listening to more, Ok Computer or In Rainbows. It's not entirely fair, since In Rainbows is still relatively new and fresh. I can't count how many times I've listened to Ok Computer, but it has to be more than almost any other album. The mere fact that I actually need to think about which I like more says a lot about the greatness of In Rainbows.
If my affections for Radiohead peaked with Ok Computer, they reached their low point with Hail To The Thief, but especially with Thom Yorke's solo album The Eraser. That release in particular made me start to feel that Thom Yorke and Radiohead were more interested in being unpredictable and avant-garde than actually taking the time to write songs that were good.
In Rainbows is immensely enjoyable to listen to. Not only that, it's even more enjoyable to listen to often. It is gorgeous in its restraint, in what's left out. It is cohesive and never overwhelming or forced.
For a band that has spent a decade trying its best to be unpredictable, perhaps finally fulfilling expectations helped Radiohead be more unpredictable than ever.

VAMPIRE WEEKEND - VAMPIRE WEEKEND
There may be no better way to start the day than with the fresh, playful sounds of Vampire Weekend.
The sounds themselves are simply different from what most people are accustomed to hearing. The album is built on fun, bright keyboard lines, lively and luscious string arraignments, colorful lyrics, and perfectly placed percussions.
Although the lyrics themselves reference Peter Gabrielle, I’m always additionally reminded of Paul Simon, with his refreshing, African-infused rhythms and vocals.
But what is left to mention about a band that has—to say the least—been affectionately reviewed by just about everyone?
Because of such (over-) exposure, it would be easy to dismiss this group of East Coast preppsters and hate them even before you’ve heard them.
To do so, however, would be completely cynical and stubborn. You can’t really listen to this album without finding yourself in a better mood, maybe even smiling a little, and dancing a step or two.
After all, there’s not too much more to ask for from a really great pop album.
The sounds themselves are simply different from what most people are accustomed to hearing. The album is built on fun, bright keyboard lines, lively and luscious string arraignments, colorful lyrics, and perfectly placed percussions.
Although the lyrics themselves reference Peter Gabrielle, I’m always additionally reminded of Paul Simon, with his refreshing, African-infused rhythms and vocals.
But what is left to mention about a band that has—to say the least—been affectionately reviewed by just about everyone?
Because of such (over-) exposure, it would be easy to dismiss this group of East Coast preppsters and hate them even before you’ve heard them.
To do so, however, would be completely cynical and stubborn. You can’t really listen to this album without finding yourself in a better mood, maybe even smiling a little, and dancing a step or two.
After all, there’s not too much more to ask for from a really great pop album.
#5
THE WALKMEN - YOU & ME
THE WALKMEN - YOU & ME
If I ever give it all up and run off to some remote beach town, live in a shack, surf all day, and strum an acoustic guitar all night, The Walkmen's You & Me is what I'll be listening to all the while in between.
Like an old Reggae album or some quiet 60’s surf song, You & Me is laid back and splendid, full of rhythms and reverb that wash over you like warm waves under a bright moon.
Gentle guitars and distant horns dance with dampened bass lines and a haunting organ, filling empty spaces with moody melodies and urgent outbursts. The lyrics are longing and recall a time that once was while hoping for something that still could be.
It is the end of a long journey, tired and weary, lost and without resolution. A traveler is returning, unsure what will remain, and unclear why he ever left.

LITTLE JOY - LITTLE JOY
Little Joy is the little band that could.
The group is mostly known as the side project of Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti, but that headline unfortunately overshadows what is truly a delightful collection of affectionate and intimate serenades.
The songs are unpolished and unpretentious, sounding as if they were written among the warm winds of Brazil, on lazy nights after a long meal and several bottles of wine.
Little Joy would fit perfectly in rotation with anything from timeless crooner Chet Baker or the bossa nova classic Getz/Gilberto. It’s patient and relaxing, quiet and subtle.
The music is mainly built on soft guitars, simple percussions, and a few horn and organ moments, but the real heart of Little Joy is in the singing.
The vocals alternate between the sly Rodrigo Amarante, who is not entirely different sounding from a mellower Julian Casablanca, and the sweet, sleepy voice of Binki Shapiro.
They pair together so well, in fact, you might like to imagine they are lovers who play these songs for no one but themselves, as if you were wandering the beach past their bungalow after dusk and overheard their tender songs for two, and decided to stay a little while longer and languish in the love.
The group is mostly known as the side project of Strokes drummer Fabrizio Moretti, but that headline unfortunately overshadows what is truly a delightful collection of affectionate and intimate serenades.
The songs are unpolished and unpretentious, sounding as if they were written among the warm winds of Brazil, on lazy nights after a long meal and several bottles of wine.
Little Joy would fit perfectly in rotation with anything from timeless crooner Chet Baker or the bossa nova classic Getz/Gilberto. It’s patient and relaxing, quiet and subtle.
The music is mainly built on soft guitars, simple percussions, and a few horn and organ moments, but the real heart of Little Joy is in the singing.
The vocals alternate between the sly Rodrigo Amarante, who is not entirely different sounding from a mellower Julian Casablanca, and the sweet, sleepy voice of Binki Shapiro.
They pair together so well, in fact, you might like to imagine they are lovers who play these songs for no one but themselves, as if you were wandering the beach past their bungalow after dusk and overheard their tender songs for two, and decided to stay a little while longer and languish in the love.
Well, what a year for these boys from Brooklyn. Talk about catching lightning in a bottle. I know several people who picked this as their album of the year, and there’s no doubt MGMT really was a terrific surprise.
The sound manages to oscillate seamlessly through multiple musical changes, reminiscent of Ween and The Flaming Lips. MGMT thrives on dance beats, psychedelic experimentation, impossibly catchy keyboard lines, and sardonically deadpanned lyrics that stay right on trend.
The first five songs on this album are nothing short of perfection. “Electric Feel” doesn’t do very much, but it stays the course and keeps the vibe. The last five songs, however, find the band using the same tools they built the first five with, yet failing to be as concise or engaging.
Rumor has it MGMT’s next album will be a two-disc set, with one disc focusing on their pop/dance sound, and the other on their psychedelic/experimental sound.
I’m pretty sure I know which one I’ll prefer.
PORTISHEAD - THIRD
Portishead’s first album in eleven years, Third, feels almost as much like the score to a performance art piece as an album of music from a band.
It’s hard for me to listen to a song like “We Carry On” without picturing a massive back-lit blank white screen, flowing blood-red fabric, and about seven people dressed in skin-tight black bodysuits dramatically twirling and folding and arching and posing.
Where their first albums were haunting and beautiful, Third is abrasive, violent, and truly avant-garde in the best of ways. Portishead make no attempts to replicate what made them so successful in the 1990’s. In fact, the only thing that really sounds much the same is singer Beth Gibbons' signature somber voice.
But the album fails to act as a cohesive unit, a collective work, the way both Dummy and Portishead did. Third is a group of songs that don’t necessarily have very much to do with one other.
That’s not to say these songs are anything short of wonderful, only that they lack a through line tying them all together.
Third is an album I listen to very closely, appreciate every note of, recognize its greatness, and then tuck away for several months to rediscover once again.
It’s hard for me to listen to a song like “We Carry On” without picturing a massive back-lit blank white screen, flowing blood-red fabric, and about seven people dressed in skin-tight black bodysuits dramatically twirling and folding and arching and posing.
Where their first albums were haunting and beautiful, Third is abrasive, violent, and truly avant-garde in the best of ways. Portishead make no attempts to replicate what made them so successful in the 1990’s. In fact, the only thing that really sounds much the same is singer Beth Gibbons' signature somber voice.
But the album fails to act as a cohesive unit, a collective work, the way both Dummy and Portishead did. Third is a group of songs that don’t necessarily have very much to do with one other.
That’s not to say these songs are anything short of wonderful, only that they lack a through line tying them all together.
Third is an album I listen to very closely, appreciate every note of, recognize its greatness, and then tuck away for several months to rediscover once again.
THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS - THE AGE OF THE UNDERSTATEMENT
With Jack White and Alicia Keys writing and performing the opening song to the most recent Bond movie Quantum of Solace, and Chris Cornell doing the same for Casino Royale, there are a few musicians I’d like to take this opportunity to nominate to be next in line: Goldfrapp (see: Felt Mountain), Portishead (do not see: Third), and now The Last Shadow Puppets.
Much of this album from Arctic Monkeys front man Alex Turner and The Rascals front man Mile Kane is ready-made for a 60's spy movie. It is sweeping and mysterious and sensual.
The sound is defined by Turner and Kane’s knowing and cheeky vocal delivery, overarching string arraignments, reverbed guitars with liberal use of the whammy bar, and a lot of ride cymbal and snare.
This album is not out to change music. Much of it, in fact, is quite derivative, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a pleasure to have on, with or without the bikini-clad silhouetted Bond girls.
Much of this album from Arctic Monkeys front man Alex Turner and The Rascals front man Mile Kane is ready-made for a 60's spy movie. It is sweeping and mysterious and sensual.
The sound is defined by Turner and Kane’s knowing and cheeky vocal delivery, overarching string arraignments, reverbed guitars with liberal use of the whammy bar, and a lot of ride cymbal and snare.
This album is not out to change music. Much of it, in fact, is quite derivative, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a pleasure to have on, with or without the bikini-clad silhouetted Bond girls.
TV ON THE RADIO - DEAR SCIENCE
Perhaps I hold TV On The Radio to expectations too high. When they are at their best, their songs combine so many glorious elements it overwhelms a person.
Songs like “Halfway Home” and “Family Tree“ define the TOTR experience for me: a wall of sound combining layers of guitars, keyboards, percussions, strings, horns, and gospel-influenced vocals.
Then there are songs that seem entirely out of place, as if they were written by another band. “Crying” is a perfect example of this for me. Maybe I just can’t get the “Casino Night” theme song from Sonic The Hedgehog out of my head when I’m listening to it, but it just comes across as a bit silly.
“Dancing Choose”, as well. I think this was their attempt at a sequel to R.E.M.’s “It’s the end of the world as we know it”—hurried and frantic with too many words in not enough space.
Dear Science is a tale of two albums for me. I love half of it, and I’m confused by the other half. When you have the ability to write songs as elegant as “Stork and Owl”, I just wonder why you would bother with any other style.