Austinist's Top 15 Records of 2007

We distinctly remember buying tickets for the Broken Social Scene show at Stubb's in November 2005 and thinking, "Feist? Sounds like some sort of horrid cross between Lady Sovereign and Avril. Screw the opener, we're going to get drinks at Side Bar." Yes, we were ignorant fools back then, kicking ourselves when we finally got around to checking out that burned copy of Let It Die.

Thankfully we didn't miss a single second of The Reminder. Feist's third album is a transcendent mixture of breathtaking songbird beauty and arresting songwriter emotion. These tales explore lust, longing and loss in all their glorious permutations. Some push you into movement, some leave you frozen in the headlights, but all of them expose the fundamental inspiration for the album: "Sweetheart bitterheart now I can tell you apart."

Speaking of "1234," have you actually listened to that song? Sure, you've heard it on the iPod commercials, but if you've been skipping it on The Reminder in some sort of anti-capitalist protest, you must stop. Seriously, listen, and smile when you do. -Julie Neumman

"1234" (YouTube)
"My Moon My Man" (YouTube)

Calm and considerate are robust, affectionate indie rock sounds of Cease to Begin. 'Marry Song' is a great track to augment the dreamy moonlit seascape on the album's cover with lazy, layered, country-sounding vocals singing 'how is your sister/ and what of your brother/ extend hellos to your father and mother' against soft keys and slow beats. The twinkling guitars and light brushwork fill the atmosphere with the sounds of autumn on the nod to NBA star 'Detlef Schrempf' while vocalist Ben Bridwell thaws everyone out with the lofty echos 'If you say you're gonna go/ then be careful/ and watch how you treat every living soul.' Taken out of context these lyrics could come off as a little cheesy and new agey, but when they mix with the music it's like the components of a glow stick. The end result is warming, like blowing steamy breath into cracked, icy hands. The sentiment of Cease to Begin is so thick that when Bridwell proclaims 'the world is such a wonderful place' during the slightly more rocking and rollicking 'Ode to LRC,' you almost believe it. -William Mills

"Is There A Ghost" (YouTube)
"No One's Gonna Love You" (YouTube)

The Stage Names is the true embodiment of drama. As in “a composition in verse or prose intended to portray life or character or to tell a story usually involving conflicts and emotions through action and dialogue and typically designed for theatrical performance.” Starting with the name and ending with the final note, each molecule of this album is tuned to a cinematic pitch.

And yet it feels familiar, recognizable, clipped from a day in the life. Will Sheff’s opening line in “Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe” says it all. “It’s just a bad movie where there’s no crying.”

With Stage Names, Okkervil River have cemented their position as a premier Texas indie-rock outfit. As if they need to hear this from us. On Tuesday morning, Okkervil posted a free EP on their website as an early Christmas present. As soon as news of Golden Opportunities hit Pitchfork, their site crashed, flooded with fans eager for the latest bits of Will Sheff wisdom. -Julie Neumman

"Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe" (YouTube)

For her second full-length, MIA made a well-documented shift from artist to auteur. She shed the souped-up genre exercises that comprised the production of her first album, and collaborated to make a sound that is every bit as multi-national, razor sharp, and unsettling as her own tongue. Over the top, MIA strings together chants and boasts, erratically crafting a mosaic of rebellion and underserved masses with a kinship somewhere in the ether between every street hustler of every nation. The result is brash, but never cacophonous or preachy. That would infer that MIA cares whether or not you agree with her and the great draw of the album is that she doesn't. –Bryan Mochizuki

"Jimmy" (YouTube)
"Bird Flu" (YouTube)

For all their insularity, their aversion to standard forms and structures, and their weirdness, at the end of the day the noise crafted by Animal Collective is capital-P pop music. From the first moments of Strawberry Jam, in which a grinding electronic sound slowly morphs into the galloping beat of "Peacebone," the Brooklyn-via-Baltimore quartet strike a balance between childlike exuberance and chaotic experimentation, all of it shot through with a sun-dappled sense of endless innocence. Collective member Panda Bear, already coming off a banner year with his Person Pitch album (also on our list), proves himself the Brian Wilson of the MacBook set with the beautiful closer, "Derek." -Matthew Dewitt

"Peacebone" (YouTube)
"#1" Live On Conan (YouTube)

What a weird sensation it is to write about in rainbows, only experienced up until recently as an internet-behooved abstraction - and not an album per se - which Radiohead generously offered for any asking price on their Web site.

Regardless of this record's surprise appearance or its non-traditional distribution, the talk surrounding the album doesn't obscure that In Rainbows is Radiohead at their most cohesive, personal, and engaging since they came together for their masterwork O.K. Computer. In the ten years since that landmark release, Radiohead have decided they'd rather be tuneless kraut-rock, or stuttering highbrow electronica – basically anything but a huge, nationally recognized rock group on Parlophone/Capitol.

With in rainbows, the band has found their balance between the disparate directions they've taken during their career. The push-pull between machine and man is less a forced paranoiac stumble, more a victory dance, from the earthy ballad "Nude" to the ramshackle "Bodysnatchers." It's the engaging return to pop form that Radiohead promised in Amnesiac finally made manifest after all of these years. -Adam Schragin

Simultaneously electronic and post-punk dance-rock, LCD Soundsystem's Sound Of Silver sails upon a sea of beats, where passionate squalls disrupt and astound, where dead waters instill introspection. On these seas, LCD's James Murphy pays homage to digitial demigods Kraftwerk and Brian Eno and tips his captain's hat to psychedelic masters. Throughout this diverse record, Murphy does a quick about-face, acknowledges the loss of youth, and stays his course in decided maturity.

Murphy comes from a punk background, has evolved into a DJ, and is co-founder of DFA Records (home to Hot Chip and the Rapture, among others), so it makes sense that Sound Of Silver is an album of dichotomy -- not only of musical aesthetic (electronic and rock), but also of theme. The prideful yet ironically self-loathing "North American Scum" rock jam is followed immediately by the moving, German-style electro "Someone Great" (a fuzzy recollection of loss, meaningless yet vast), and then takes yet another turn back into flawless dance tracks with throwback beats and shout-able lyrics. Ultimately, a meaningful and danceable roller coaster ride of an album. -Mercedes Kraus

"All My Friends" (YouTube)
"North American Scum" (YouTube)

If you can listen to an utterly adorable track like 'A Postcard To Nina' and not be swept off your feet to fall absolutely head over heels for this Swedish singer/songwriter, well then your skin is just way too thick. This song is like staring right into the eyes of a big-eyed puppy bred on indie pop. In a style similar to that of Stephin Merritt, Lekman uses classy, whimsical and romantic music with witty storytelling. In the above mentioned track the narrator describes pretending to be his lesbian friend’s boyfriend in front of her dad and ends with 'so I send you this postcard just to say/don’t let anyone stand in your way/your’s truly, Jens Lekman.' Night Falls Over Kortedala features other clever and playful songs such as 'Friday Night At The Drive-In Bingo' and 'I’m Leaving You Because I Don’t Love You' all set to some very grand string and horn arrangements. -William Mills

"A Sweet Summers Night on Hammer Hill (Live)" (YouTube)
"I Saw Her In The Anti-War Demonstration (Live)" (YouTube)

Battles' ability to work outside genre classification is probably the most important offering Mirrored can boast long-term. The music is some mix of post-prog jazz, a rejection of genre so interesting, we hardly notice the influences until we struggle to describe what we're hearing. Bands like Mew, Xiu Xiu, and The Berg Sans Nipple all sort of lean this direction, and their success lies in the fact that you might never think to group them by sound. Sure, there's a certain way in which all of this relates back to progressive rock in the '70s, perhaps sugared with the pop and dance trends of the same era, never afraid to be equal parts drama and diversion. It's undoubtedly difficult without ever being inaccessible. Mirrored is not just another avant electronic album. The single, "Atlas", begins with an intimidating tom thumps, a sort of I, Robot drone in the background, and just as cymbals crash, Tyondai Braxton's voice enters stage left and throws the entire show on its ass. What is remarkable is that the blatant ode to prog in the digital age isn't at all intrusive: the climax of the song (Battles by the books: piercing crash cymbals, a bass drum sound to kill for, and anti-melody guitars) works perfectly well against the introduction of Smurf-like robot devotionals ("Together, forever!"). -Paige Maguire

"Atlas" (YouTube)
"Layendecker" Live at Pitchfork Fest '07 (Imeem)

Few in indie music today are so obviously intelligent as the Chicago-based Andrew Bird, a man whose meticulously-crafted music transmits a genuine air of intellect. Far from willing to rest on the laurels of his previous album, he's taken this impression to a new level with the sneaky Armchair Apocrypha, an album that at first may seem too clean, but eventually grabs you by the throat and holds on until it's too late. And that, when it comes to incredibly well-structured and intricate songs with spot-on lyricism, is a good thing.

With a slew of quotables ("thank god it's fatal," "time's a crooked boat," etc.) and a distinct awareness of the album structure as a whole, Armchair Apocrypha is an at-times-poppy and at-times-heartbreaking journey of an album. Using practically equal parts violin, piano, and guitar to drive the songs, Bird has expanded the palette of his previous albums, while intensifying the seriousness and complexity of his songs. And, because of this, he has created a work worthy of a good fifty or sixty straight-through listens. At least. -Nick Courtright

"Plasticities" (YouTube)
"Fiery Crash" (YouTube)

Even the most stoned scenester on Red River couldn't have predicted that the most affecting "breakup" album of 2007 would belong to the precocious psych-poppers in Of Montreal. In all fairness, the LP was made mostly by lead singer Kevin Barnes with uncredited contributions from various antidepressants, Scandinavia, and a few ancillary human players including his wife. The twelve tracks that make up the record are so decidedly different than their predecessors in content and intensity it almost feels like a solo album. Fortunately, this sad, sordid "concept album" wears the over-the-top influence of all of its members, present or not, like the garish costumes that adorn their bodies onstage, and all the better for it. Barnes' story ultimately resolved happily. In that, the fact that he bled out one of the best albums of the year is a merely a thankful afterthought. -Josh Huck

"Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse" (YouTube)
"Gronlandic Edit" (YouTube)

When it comes to describing Person Pitch, you may use words like "delirious" or "psychotic" or "eastern," or phrases like "techno blender" or "synthetic eeriness." Hell, you may even say it's "like a post-enlightenment Brian Wilson in a playground of crayola-colors, loops, and high-grade ecstasy." But really, when it comes to Panda Bear's statement album—one that ensures he'll never again be simply an Animal Collective side project—none of those flailing attempts at description seem to grasp what's going on.

Person Pitch is one of those albums where an entire article could be written about each track, from the bouncy "Comfy in Nautica," to the devastating thirteeen minute shock of "Bros" (perhaps the most captivating—and seizure-inducing—song of the year), all the way through to its subtle tail end. Said simply, Person Pitch just plain kicks its listener in the gut. And while the mystery of the album was perhaps enhanced by Panda's near-refusal to tour in support of it, that's just fine by me—when I can remember thinking way back in March, "There's no way in hell this isn't going to be one of the top five albums of the year," that's a pretty good sign something strangely brilliant is happening. -Nick Courtright

"Comfy In Nautica" (YouTube)
"Bros" (YouTube)

The Arcade Fire faced an impossible task here: how do you record the follow-up to a perfect record? Given that The Arcade Fire neither failed miserably nor repeated themselves, they could already consider the album a victory. But Neon Bible attempted to move from the personal to the universal, using an arsenal of Hungarian orchestras, church acoustics, gospel singers, and famous producers to take their indie chamber-pop into stadium territory. In an amazing turn, those touches aren't in any way offensive or bombastic; they actually seem perfectly appropriate for the occasion. The beautiful music masks the hugely dark lyrical content on first listen - it takes some time to realize that the themes here are war, mortality, escape, and religion. The lyrics and arrangements are constantly (and purposefully) at cross-purposes, making anthems like "Intervention" and "Keep The Car Running" sound optimistic and life-affirming when in fact they're aggressively questioning whether such feelings are even possible. There are certainly some debts to Bruce Springsteen in these tunes, but given The Boss's rediscovered cool, the reference points aren't dated or unlikeable. In the end, it's right to say that The Arcade Fire were at a disadvantage from the start: Funeral had the element of surprise going for it, but Neon Bible carried enormous expectations upon the audience's first listen. Somehow, against all odds, Win Butler and his amazing cohorts managed to stay true to what we all liked about them to begin with, add some new sonic twists, and acknowledge their fame and stature all at once. Consider us wowed. -Tom Thornton

"Keep the Car Running (Live)" (YouTube)

2007 was the year that Spoon opened the floodgates. They went Billboard Top 10, played Saturday Night Live and Letterman, made videos featuring Japanese dancing robots, and headlined large rooms around the country. This is remarkable not for the commerciality of it, but rather because Spoon became popular by simply holding on to the musical vision they've been aiming at for the whole of this decade. The music hasn't changed that much since Girls Can Tell back in 2001, but the world has grown to appreciate it. This is what we admire most about the band: the ability to stay consistent while continuing to grow. Spoon seem to keep some core elements in place (short songs, great bass lines, and concise lyrics) on every album, but throw us new twists every time. This formula of 80% reliable, 20% experimental has turned them into the Clint Eastwood of the genre: critically respected, commercially accessible, and appreciated more over time. One could argue that despite its success, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is the most experimental Spoon record since A Series Of Sneaks. There's staccato piano, political rock about Bush and the war, and some haunting overdubs that aren't usually in the band's musical playbook. On the other hand, the album contains two monster singles, "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb" and "The Underdog," both of which employ a soul-style horn section to great effect. The other standout track, "Don't You Evah," even throws in lots of hand clapping. There are some pretty, emotive and Beatlesy acoustic ballads and sitar bits toward the end, too. As with other Spoon releases, the band is smart enough to keep the album length short and leave the listener wanting a little more. After multiple spins, it does seems like one of Britt Daniels' finest expressions of his ethos: precise, concise, and revised - and is unmistakably the work of Austin's most accomplished rock band of this era. -Tom Thornton

"Don't You Evah" (YouTube)
"The Underdog" (YouTube)
SNL Promo (YouTube)

Our album of the year is a study in contradictions: it's a subtle album but a grand gesture; downbeat but rocking; introspective yet full of bad behavior; and most oddly, it's an album for headphone listening and winter, but was released in May. At once a slow grower and an instant classic, Boxer speaks of the conversations one has with themselves when nobody is around to judge you. Brooklyn's The National has been stirring up reflective indie-rock for half a decade now, aggregating a number of stellar releases including 2005's Alligator. In 2007, we caught up with singer Matt Berninger (following the release of Boxer and just before the band played the Austin City Limits Music Festival), who filled us in on his writing process and the various special guests heard throughout Boxer. His direct responses complemented his songwriting - the words were sparse, but were used with obvious forethought. The National are pithy, dark, and wiser than their years. Thankfully, the somber moods present are ultimately uplifting and beautiful rather than depressing.

Boxer is a mesmerizing collection of poignant lyrics, melodious anthems, and affecting ballads, with a wide variety of able instrumentation provided by a cast of all-stars (including Sufjan Stevens and Padma Newsomelegends alike. There was even a sitcom cameo for "Slow Show" off the record -- the song appeared on the NBC show Chuck. All in all, The National rightfully ascended the ranks of rock stardom with Boxer, no longer flying under the radar or bearing the "under-appreciated" tag as they did with prior releases. -Adi Anand

"Mistaken For Strangers" (YouTube)
"Apartment Story" (YouTube)
"Fake Empire" (on Letterman)