This year's albums did little to stem the tide toward the iPod-friendly single. Songs like Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy," Justin Timberlake's "My Love" and Nelly Furtado's "Maneater" might have been the best pop creations of the year, but they were buried in albums that left plenty to be desired. The discs that truly called out for endless play came from a mix of indie stalwarts and rock legends - and in some cases, both.
1. "Return to Cookie Mountain," TV on the Radio: In a music year of mostly uneven releases, no album asserted itself more than the ambitious, if terribly titled "Return to Cookie Mountain." From the opening herky-jerky rhythms and muted sounds of "I Was a Lover," you know you're hearing something different, something new. Mixing soul, layered guitar riffs, electronic synths and a little David Bowie, the Brooklyn band threw everything contemporary against a wall and made a classic album stick.
2. "The Crane Wife," The Decemberists: It was getting easy to wonder if Colin Meloy's well of pirate sea shanties and "chimbley sweeps" was running dry. It would have to, wouldn't it? On "The Crane Wife," Meloy doesn't abandon his fetish for Victorian oddities, but there's an unmistakable feeling that his purview has widened - especially musically. From the mean organ groove of "The Island" to the gently building "Crane Wife 1," this is the Decemberists' best yet and the sound of a songwriter at the top of his game. It turns out Meloy really is - as he sings in an older song - "meant for the stage."
1. "Return to Cookie Mountain," TV on the Radio: In a music year of mostly uneven releases, no album asserted itself more than the ambitious, if terribly titled "Return to Cookie Mountain." From the opening herky-jerky rhythms and muted sounds of "I Was a Lover," you know you're hearing something different, something new. Mixing soul, layered guitar riffs, electronic synths and a little David Bowie, the Brooklyn band threw everything contemporary against a wall and made a classic album stick.
2. "The Crane Wife," The Decemberists: It was getting easy to wonder if Colin Meloy's well of pirate sea shanties and "chimbley sweeps" was running dry. It would have to, wouldn't it? On "The Crane Wife," Meloy doesn't abandon his fetish for Victorian oddities, but there's an unmistakable feeling that his purview has widened - especially musically. From the mean organ groove of "The Island" to the gently building "Crane Wife 1," this is the Decemberists' best yet and the sound of a songwriter at the top of his game. It turns out Meloy really is - as he sings in an older song - "meant for the stage."
3. "The Greatest," Cat Power: The stage has been a tricky affair for Chan Marshall, the singer-songwriter known as Cat Power. But after years of struggling with demons and stage fright, Marshall underwent a complete makeover in 2006, emerging a sober, confident and more mature performer. Backed by Memphis blues pros, Marshall's often harrowing tunes - and the singer herself - are pulled upward by wistful horns and blues soul.
4. "Fox Confessor Brings the Flood," Neko Case: Neko Case's voice rings out like a clarion on this, her fifth album. On the side, the scarlet-haired singer's powerful, soaring pipes have melded beautifully with the power pop of the New Pornographers. But here there's nothing between you and her captivating presence, which on one song finds her "holdin' out for that teenage feeling." The best song is "Star Witness," a sweetly tragic alt-country tune that absolutely blows the house down.
5. "Modern Times," Bob Dylan: With seemingly no effort, a bemused master lays down his finest album in perhaps a decade. From the honky-tonk "Thunder on the Mountain" to the heartfelt "Workingman's Blues 2," Dylan rolls and tumbles down a lonesome blues highway.
6. "Orphans," Tom Waits: When most acts release a collection of rarities, it's strictly of interest to avid fans and collectors. Waits' 3-disc assemblage not only compiles loose ends, but includes 30 never-before-heard tracks - divided by down-and-dirty rockers barroom ballads and experimental outcasts. Together, it's some of Waits' best stuff - which, after all, has always sounded strung together from junkyard heaps. We'll forever be wondering of Waits: "What's he building in there?"
7. "Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not," Arctic Monkeys: The Brits have declared the Arctic Monkeys' debut their album of the year, and the youngsters' post-punk expertise sounds nearly as good on these shores. Singer/guitarist Alex Turner, 20, comes across as some kind of rock 'n' roll savant, who - at first bluff - knew how to write blistering anthem rockers and controlled ballads. Who raised these kids, Joe Strummer?
8. "Scale," Herbert: Sure, a balding British electronic musician is probably out of place on a rock list, but "Scale" might have been the most sumptuous album of the year. Matthew Herbert, who often builds sounds and beats out of everyday objects, has the benefit of his wife, singer Dani Siciliano. Together, they make some of the most buoyant, danceable tunes - like "Something Isn't Right" and "Birds of a Feather." The former is pop bliss; the latter continually grows on you until it takes over your life - organizing your schedule and watering your plants.
9. Field Music (self-titled): There isn't a wrong note sounded on this modest, meticulous pop masterpiece. The small, unassuming Brewis brothers politely (and in a falsetto) announce their arrival on their debut. The British trio is too understated to cause much of a fuss, but intricate, melodic consistency like this is a rare thing. Their Sunderland cohorts, the Futureheads - putting forth their restrained, sophomore effort, "News and Tributes" - also gave us an excellent, impressively arranged record.
10. "Let's Get out of this Country," Camera Obscura: In his recent book "I'll Take You There," Bill Friskics-Warren claims that pop music can be a gateway to transcendence - an absurd argument, for sure. But when Tracyanne Campbell, the lead singer of the Scottish band Camera Obscura, airily sings "Shedding tears for affairs/ I'm a funny little thing" - her voice suddenly leaping an octave and into the heavens - one wonders if Mr. Friskics-Warren has a point.
