Top 50 albums of the decade, part five

And so the alphabetical unranked presentation of the main list of top 50 albums of the decade as compiled by myself and five-star double-rated astronavigatrix Calle Fitzgerald concludes today. (Our separate ranked lists will be posted on Monday.) With the top 50 revealed in all its glory, it's the perfect time to sound off in the comments about where we went right, where we went wrong (though maybe we'll atone for some of those sins in one of the individual lists), or anything else you have to say about this decade in music.

For the project's introduction and part one, click here.
For part two, click here.
For part three, click here.
For part four, click here.

Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (2007)

In naming their sixth album, Spoon took the Smucker's approach: With a name like Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, it had to be good. Otherwise, critics would have an easy segue into knocks about boring repetition or suggest an infantile regression from their past successes or repeat negative words five times in a row in their reviews (see comments). Luckily, any charge of repetition falls flat in the face of the album's stunning diversity, with the opening three songs deftly maneuvering from a tense guitar work-out recalling their early days aping Wire to an eerie mood piece to a Stax-influenced pop number, and they continue to throw in funk, ballads, and whatever else works (and it all does) throughout the album. And as for any charge of regression, it turns out this is their most mature album to date, using their studio mastery to bring its disparate sounds together into a cohesive and supremely satisfying whole. (JM)
Choice tracks: “Don't Make Me a Target,” “The Underdog,” “Black Like Me”

Supergrass, Life on Other Planets (2002)

Supergrass made Britpop fun. Then, after the world seemed ready to move on from that phase, they came out with this overlooked gem. Crackling with punchy beats and playful synths, Life on Other Planets is the last Supergrass album to sound this gleeful. They even managed to lift a song from Spinal Tap (“Evening of the Day”). To me, there is not a single pop song in existence that can match the childlike, starry-eyed joy of “Grace.” (CF)
Choice tracks: “Seen the Light,” “Grace,” “La Song”

The Tragically Hip, Music @ Work (2000)

At this point in their career, it’s hard to imagine Canadian band The Tragically Hip receiving any real acclaim in the U.S., but they quietly enough (in this country, at least) managed to release five albums in this decade, each uniquely terrific. I had a harder time with this band than any choosing just one album, but Music @ Work gets the nod, for its trademark brew of intelligent, artful lyrics and muscular two-guitar driven melody. In a decade highlight, the sweet, pure duet with Julie Doiron, “Toronto #4,” floats up to a gorgeous climax and stands as one example of many of The Tragically Hip’s uncompromising musical power. (CF)
Choice tracks: “My Music At Work,” “Lake Fever,” “Toronto #4”

Rufus Wainwright, Poses (2001)

Singer-songwriter Rufus Wainwright can do no wrong in my mind. Of course, I haven’t heard his recently debuted opera, but that’s neither here nor there. In the world of piano-based pop music, his symphonically crafted songs are nonpareil. Take the title track off Poses, for instance—the way his powerful baritone leaps up an octave at the last chorus, while the piano glides up and down a major scale. Add Wainwright’s emotive, elegant lyrics to his significant musicianship and songwriting talent, and Poses is one of his many fine end results: an irresistible album stuffed with top-notch pop hooks. (CF)
Choice tracks: “Greek Song,” “Poses,” “The Tower of Learning”

The Walkmen, You & Me (2008)

In an interview, lead singer Hamilton Leithauser cited Roy Orbison as a big influence on You & Me. While that influence can definitely be heard on the milky guitars that wrap around echoing piano as Leithauser croons above, The Walkmen’s sound is all their own. Those expecting the raw energy of hit track “The Rat” will be surprised by the moody, downtempo opening songs, but further listens reveal the songwriting and sequencing smarts at work. You & Me is simultaneously brooding and comforting; think lyrical catharsis with a musical bonfire for a backdrop. (CF)
Choice tracks: “In The New Year,” “Canadian Girl,” “The Blue Route”

Kanye West, The College Dropout (2004)

The reason Kanye West has become such an infuriating public figure is the same reason his albums are so consistently compelling: simply put, he has no off switch. In public, this means an ongoing faux pas/apology cycle, but on record, it's a relentless creative streak, and nowhere is this more apparent than on his gleefully overstuffed and unflinchingly personal debut, The College Dropout. After working behind the scenes as one of the most sought-after producers in hip-hop, West went into kid-in-a-toy-store mode for his first solo outing, incorporating whatever sped-up vocals, gospel elements, orchestral workouts, sexy grooves and hot beats he wanted while tackling race, religion, fame, and most of all, his own demons. Even with some lame recurring skits, it's one of the most inventive hip-hop albums ever, marking the emergence of a singular (if often frustrating) artistic voice. (JM)
Choice tracks: “Spaceship,” “Jesus Walks,” “Through the Wire”

The White Stripes, Get Behind Me Satan (2005)

It'll probably be an uphill battle to build Get Behind Me Satan up as the high point of The White Stripes' career considering the acclaim heaped upon its stunning and admittedly more groundbreaking predecessors, White Blood Cells and Elephant, so I'll start with the obvious points first: it limits Meg White's vocal showcase to 35 seconds, and its closer, “I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet),” is a genuinely tender piano-driven ballad instead of a sloppy goof-off. Elsewhere, the prominent piano on such songs as “My Doorbell” and “The Denial Twist” makes it Jack and Meg White's funkiest effort to date, and the inclusion of a blues-rock adaptation of Cole Porter's “Let's Do It (Let's Fall in Love),” two songs about Rita Hayworth, and the marimba-drenched “The Nurse” certainly makes it a frontrunner for their quirkiest album, wherein one of the best bands of the decade veers into unchartered territory and succeeds wildly at every turn. (JM)
Choice tracks: “Blue Orchid,” “My Doorbell,” “I'm Lonely (But I Ain't That Lonely Yet)”

Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)

Based on the title of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot's opening track, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” Jeff Tweedy's motive seems pretty clear, but after the first minute of the song, where an instrumental drone gives way to steady metronomic percussion that leads into a incessant alarm clock ring before it finally morphs into light acoustic strumming (and especially by the time the lyrics kick in with “I am an American aquarium drinker/I assassin down the avenue”), it becomes pretty clear that Wilco's only discernible M.O. is unpredictability. They still manage to inject plenty of heartbreak on such mournful mood pieces as “Radio Cure” and “Ashes of American Flags,” but the latter sets up the poppy rug pull of “Heavy Metal Drummer” and “I'm the Man Who Loves You.” As diverse as these sounds may be, though, they're all held together by the indelible strength of Tweedy and the late Jay Bennett as songwriters, putting them into consideration to sit high among his generation's greats, as well as the album's consistent willingness to push the sonic envelope and the immersive nature of every track, some of the many considerations in my decision to name Yankee Hotel Foxtrot the best album of the decade. (JM)
Choice tracks: “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” “I'm the Man Who Loves You,” “Poor Places”

Patrick Wolf, The Magic Position (2007)

Patrick Wolf has always done his best not to be normal, and to an extent, that infected his music, resulting in somewhat uneven albums (though not without considerable merits). On The Magic Position, though, Wolf’s experiments all go decidedly right, and when he attempts to make a regular pop song, it turns out smashing. The first three songs all fall into this category, and even when Marianne Faithfull shows up for a spoken word bit later on, it is atmospheric and appropriate. With the recently released The Bachelor being nearly equal in quality, it is exciting to see where Wolf will take his somewhat eccentric, but significant, talent. (CF)
Choice tracks: “The Magic Position,” “Accident and Emergency,” “Bluebells”

Wolf Parade, Apologies to the Queen Mary (2005)

Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner take turns singing the deliciously good songs on Apologies to the Queen Mary, but to tell the truth, I can’t tell the two apart. Not only does this say something about the band’s uniform sound and ability to blend, but also the uniformly high quality of the music on the disc. “I’ll Believe In Anything” is impossibly moving in both its promises of love and escape and its raucous explosion of an ending. Like every other album on this list, this one offers me everything I look for in music, which as said before, differs for everyone: it offers to me an emotional outlet and escape simultaneously, an ultimately indescribable wedding of artfully chosen words and melodies that transcends any other human experience. (CF)
Choice tracks: “Grounds for Divorce,” “I’ll Believe in Anything,” “This Heart’s On Fire”

For the individual ranked lists and also-rans, click here.