Our Year In Listening: Austinist's Top 15 Albums in 2008

You really know what you’re getting into when you pick up an Okkervil River record. Musical curve balls aren’t common place with these guys, but why change the indie/folk machine when it’s running so smoothly? Instead of trying something completely new, Will Sheff and company just concentrated on improving and beefing up a sound that’s already quite natural to them. A myriad of musical sounds coming from guitars, a Hammond organ, mandolin, Wurlitzer, banjo, sleigh bells, trumpet, violin, French horn, and more (it would actually be easier to list the instruments they didn’t use) contributed by twenty or so musicians are bound by Sheff’s vulnerable, genuine vocals. Even though some of the songs lie in the field of Texas folk or gentle rock with poise, like “On Tour with Zykos” (a nod to another impressive Austin group), while others stand on more symphonic, grandiose ground, all the tracks somehow form a continuous thought and feeling. And while that feeling tends to be heavy with emotion – due to both Sheff’s words and the at-times-overwhelming musicianship – it’s still comforting, especially at the album’s end. With this, their fifth full-length on Jagjaguwar, Okkervil River is showing some outrageous staying power. -William Mills

As we age and attempt to embrace new priorities, it seems odd to realize that we've never enjoyed dance music more than we have in the last year. In a year as bleak as this one sometimes was, it was comforting to have music like Hercules and Love Affair, Hot Chip, Friendly Fires, and (perhaps most frequently) Cut Copy to provide some beautiful escapism. The Australian band destroyed audiences at SXSW this year with a mix of electronic foundations, a live backline, and energetic showmanship that cut far beyond normal electronic head nodding and plowed ahead into full-on audience pogoing and abandon. Cut Copy undoubtedly have '80s influences, but they became unique among their peers by attempting a fusion of Duran Duran and New Order; the pop is there, along with bulletproof beats, but so is the art. And the music is pretty breathtaking throughout, which isn't something you often say about dance records. From opener "Feel The Love" to "Out There On The Ice" and "Lights And Music", it's tough to find a better opening 15 minutes on any album this year. The album is littered with great throwaway guitar licks, propulsive beats, and pensive but optimistic lyrics that can make any drive to work or daycare a Friday night full of mystery and wonder. We may feel older this year, but Cut Copy's In Ghost Colours makes us want to dance. Forever. -Tom Thornton

While few bands were more anonymously everpresent ("Oh Mojave" has been a Windows staple for a fine minute now), it'd be a shame to pigeonhole The Ruby Suns as a commercial phenomenon, as the often operatic and always textual Sea Lion is strong end to end, with almost too many standouts to list. The trio, an amalgam of the Los Angeles and New Zealand-bred, broke through with an album that seems like the theme music to the best Disney ride ever, and in a good way—willfully worldly and thoughtful yet with a healthy dose of tiki room kitsch, this would be a too-perfect soundtrack for one of those shops at the mall where they sell replicas of primitive cultures' artwork.

And if none of that sounds particularly appealing, trust that the choral fantasmia of "Tane Mahuta," the shimmery alterna-pop of "There Are Birds," and the atmospheric playfulness of "Ole Rinka," along with any number of other tracks worth mentioning, are in line with the most singular and unexpected songs of the year. And the band even manages to stun on "Morning Sun," the comparatively lengthy last track, slipping into what can generously be called '80s dance-a-la-eyeliner. But by the time we get this shocking change in direction, the album has more than confirmed itself as one of the most rewarding of the year. -Nick Courtright

For the music fiend, it's a constant battle of wills amongst unknowing bands for real estate on a painfully limited 2 gigabyte iPod. And this severe memory crunch makes it exceptionally rare for an album, especially one built from the all-too-familiar drums and guitar formula, to last months upon months upon months on a most prime playlist. But that's precisely what San Francisco's Dodos have done with Visiter, an hour-long joyride through clattering percussion, relatable pop lyricism, and a warm yet unexpectedly breathtaking familiarity.

While the album at first seems a little overlong, each individual tune is strong enough to make the thought of trimming tracks offensive, and as a whole the album makes a hell of a case for percussion's centrality in twenty-first century folk-rock. With a slew of mixtape-ready songs, including the furious "Joe's Waltz," the beebopping "Park Song," or the heartrendingly romantic "Ashley," Visiter (named by a child in a special needs class for whom the Dodos played a concert), offers perfect moments for flying far too fast down the highway or sobbing in the soup line, and at the end of the year stood strong as an album that felt just as right in the sick heat of summer as it did when all the trees' leaves hit the ground. -Nick Courtright

Following the groundswell of hype heaped on Deerhunter's second album, Cryptograms, it seemed inevitable that much ado would be made about the Atlanta quintet's follow-up recording. Leaked months before its release—the album, which saw its official release Oct. 22, was a summer favorite for many—Microcastle didn't stay hidden long enough to really suffer the backlash some thought it warranted. Still, Microcastle expanded on Cryptograms' chilly formalism with warm melodies and a certain R&B texture to driving tracks like "Nothing Ever Happened" and "Never Stops," and the addition of bonus disc Weird Era Cont'd, a full-length set of lo-fi garage-rock nuggets, makes the package a fully 3-dimensional portrait of a band exploring the limits of pop. -Matthew Dewitt

This one-time joke band (see "OK Calculator") turned Brian Eno-channeling noise consortium gifted us with on of the most stridently experimental pop albums in some time, complete with an unlikely pop single, "Golden Age," and a pseudo-conceptual theme (the title phrase comes from a diatribe to the titular field of study that producer Andrew Sitek posted on his refrigerator). From the delerious rapping of "Dancing Choose" to the claustrophobic qiuetude of the gallows-haunting "Family Tree," Dear Science proved once again that Brooklyn hipsters are indeed good for something. -Matthew Dewitt

“Time to Pretend” mocks the rock star lifestyle in this electronic/rock tune with lines like, “Let’s make some music, make some money, find some models for wives.” But, the truth is, they’re probably much closer to that reality than they thought. Oracular Spectacular, a pretty arrogant title that almost no group can live up to, scored the four-stars-out-of-five rating almost across the board, and it hit #1 on the Billboard Heatseekers chart. That’s pretty good for a major label debut full-length and first full-length as MGMT. They did have help from The Flaming Lips’ producer Dave Fridmann and those damn indestructible, infectious choruses. They execute the whole psychedelic, dancey, larger-than-life electro-pop thing pretty darn flawlessly and with minimal effort it seems on this album. “Electric Feel,” another one of the ubiquitous singles from Oracular, invites everyone to dance like it’s the end of the world, but in a funky way, without ever having to say it. The falsetto’s a nice touch too. The video for that song, as well as the one for “Time to Pretend” depict a lot of dancing in nature – one at the beach and the other in the forest – with psychedelic colors and hedonistic images sprinkled everywhere making the scenes so inviting. That’s especially so with the previous, which even features the forest party people drinking radiating moon juice while the Rock-afire Explosion (Showbiz Pizza’s animatronic band) plays along in the background. Who wouldn’t want to join that party? -William Mills

Skeletal Lamping confirms Of Montreal's emergence as one of the premier psychedelic pop bands of our generation. The record is an experimental smorgasbord of rock, funk, R&B, soul, synth-pop and whatever else tickles main man Kevin Barnes' (or should we say Georgie Fruit's) fancy. The lyrical content is equally schizophrenic, ranging from the autobiographical to the whimsical, keeping the listener constantly engaged (if not puzzled). Songs, and movements within songs, flow into each other with no end or beginning, and by the time the third track "For Our Elegant Castle" kicks off, we've had enough twist and turns to suggest that we could be midway into the album. The mosaic of miscellany only picks up speed from there. "Touched Something's Hollow" harbors a hint of The Beatles' "The Fool on the Hill," "Gallery Piece" is a modern day love letter from Barnes, and "Plastis Wafers" could almost be an EP on its own. Lamping unerringly and unrepentantly marches through a hearty sampling of neo-psychedelia. Although Of Montreal may have digressed from the instant four minute pop hit with its latest album, the catchy hooks and unavoidable melodies persist, making Skeletal Lamping a truly unique medley of ear candy. -Adi Anand

Within the first three seconds of Feed the Animals' first track, we're coerced into head bobbing, hopping and chirping along to lyrics that would make our grandmother blush. Few albums released this year radiate that college-kid-on-Adderol high quite like this one. Serving up sweet concoctions of dance worthy beats is nothing new for Greg Gillis, a former biomedical researcher who has produced three other albums under the Girl Talk persona. However, his latest project personifies what it means to party, with a silver platter of musical snippets reaching across multiple genres and decades. Gillis' reputation as a mix master becomes more evident as he (miraculously) finds pedigree excerpts from hundreds of songs and weaves them into a colorful patchwork quilt of musicality. The record begins with vulgar raps and hip rhythms, and delicately tapers into softer beats and subdued ballads. Early on, we are welcomed by Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" imposed upon an electronic version of Temple of the Dog's "Hunger Strike." Midway, we get a quick taste of the guitar intro to Beck's "Loser" before backing into Ahmad's "Back in the Day" chorus. Seamless transitions between songs make the album more like a concert with movements rather than separate tracks, much like a live Girl Talk performance of endless dancing and sweating. With each album, Gillis figures out a way to compile more and more, better and better bits of music with smoother transitions to his ever hungry fans—perhaps the inspiration for the album title. -Candace Birkelbach

Through five albums of operatic pop music, Shearwater have made a career out of plumbing the chasms of the heart with a touch that can be soft and whisper-thin or alternately sharp enough to draw blood. On their latest, Rook, the polarity of the band resonates from the knives-out confrontation on “Century Eyes” to the introspective calm of “I Was a Cloud.” Each step the band takes peels back another layer of breadth and vision, and this album finds them coalescing like never before. Thor Harris’ restrained trap set performance and dissonant percussion flourishes suit the splintered mood of the album perfectly, and lead singer Jonathan Meiberg delivers his most varied and adept vocal performance to date. Rook is an album that not only raises the bar for what we expect from Shearwater going forward, but from all independent rock released this year. -Adam Schragin

Following up The Warning was an impossible task, but Hot Chip handled the pressure with aplomb. Made In The Dark's schizophrenia was occasionally overwhelming, but in time, the record came into focus as a rounding out of the Hot Chip sound. This is a record made by music nerds for music nerds - by friends who love everything from R. Kelly to Willie Nelson to Skee-Lo, and can't wait to blend it all together into something original. The album's front end was full of bombast, and the end was quite sedate, but in between, Hot Chip threw us a perfect dance single ("Ready For The Floor"), some beautiful blue-eyed soul ("Made In The Dark"), and a classic silly love song ("Wrestlers"). The increased focus on live instruments and band interplay was a nice break from the past, as primary Chips Alexis and Joe let the other three into the process to positive effect. While this record may prove a little confusing for new listeners, the live show proved the mettle of the results. In concert, the overwhelming feeling you get is that these guys mean every note. They may be funny, but they're achingly sincere. We suspect that Hot Chip will continue to prove their worth as one of the most original creators of dance, pop, and indie music going forward, and Made In The Dark provided us many happy moments in a strange and dark year. For more on this album, see our feature review from back in February. -Tom Thornton

Well, Iceland might be bankrupt, but its geographically cloistered musicians are still paying dividends. Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust, the latest full-length from scene elders Sigur Rós is one of the most stunningly verdant items to be borne out of the volcanic soil of that strange isle, both captivating and confounding in its scope, towering over listeners like an enchanted oak. Leaving behind the amorphous soundscapes-sometimes fierce, sometimes a bit frilly-of their previous albums, this is a record of a band tightening the screws, and focusing the laser of their collective talent on peeling down and piling on the nuances that were overlooked in their younger days. Every piston is firing: from the relentlessly hammered keys on "Inní mér syngur vitleysingur" to frontman Jonti's tearful choirboy wail on "Festival," there are no missteps, no errors in form. While there is no "Glosoli" thrasher this time around, the music is no less affecting for lack of distortion, which would have appeared extraneous, grasping. They simply don't need it. Sigur Rós is as close as they've ever been to crafting something wholly perfect. This is stunning, daring art, forged by masters. -Josh Huck

With us for a couple of years already, local sensations White Denim finally put the touches on their first LP, released in October here as Exposion and put out in a slightly different form as Workout Holiday overseas. Known primarily for impassioned, bloodletting performances that play into the band’s keepsake minimalism, Exposion searches out a different side of the trio. Less blistering but no less smart, it plays with added instrumentation, silence and studio space. The buzzy “Heart From Us All” sounds almost wistful amongst the feedback, and barnburner “Shake Shake Shake” best showcases the band’s instrumental prowess. The sum of the parts is the story of an act with an ace formula but who aren’t afraid to tinker as they create. With their debut, a band constantly saddled with the descriptor “promising” have come through and delivered. -Adam Schragin

It might take him until the last line of the last song, but Bon Iver’s creative dynamo Justin Vernon finds resolution on For Emma, Forever Ago. It’s a cruel trick – Vernon’s break-up album is so indulgent for the first two-thirds that one would expect the man who exiled himself to a Wisconsin cabin to continue to plumb the depths with his falsetto theatrics. Instead, the whole exercise turns therapeutic, to the tune of horns and a striding beat on second-to-last track “For Emma.” Surely he recorded all the songs out of sequence, but the album plays like it was all one take, off the cuff, and all of Vernon’s confessing really did allow him to achieve catharsis; for as “For Emma” and finally “Re: Stacks” play out, the silver lining overcomes the cloud. -Bryan Mochizuki

If there's anything to fault Fleet Foxes for, it would be how unapologetically pretty everything is. It's just too easy to give this record a cursory listen and mistake it for quaint background music to a 21st century teen television drama. Reverb-drenched vocals that have the misfortune of striking seasoned indie ears with the familiarity of larger-than-life post-Americana outfits don't help. The fair shake, however, reveals a future classic issued by a patient group of artists pleasantly omitting complication. Perhaps this is one of the reasons their self-titled full length has struck such a chord: rather than issuing some kind of esoteric lo-fi challenge, Fleet Foxes bring comfortable genres and traditional harmony back to the forefront of a scene littered with vagrant sub-genres and vapid pop materialism.

The songs are lithe and epic, indulgent in their simple excellence. They serve as a reminder that some of pop music's most towering luminaries excelled best at the basic building blocks of composition and performance-Wilson's harmonies, Fleetwood Mac's arrangements, the Beatles' knack for sunny longing, and the Dead's earnest jamming. Nothing is wasted, and though the record features a small arsenal of instruments and layers (upon layers) of vocal tracks, there's never a busy moment. Perhaps most satisfying is the group's attention to detail throughout arrangements both liminal and stark. The combination of good songwriting and delicately superb production deliver a sort of anomaly on Fleet Foxes-things are at once crisp and jagged. Slips against the neck of an acoustic guitar in "Meadowlark" are untainted by repair, ghostly inhales before harmonious oohs linger between notes, there is an almost audible physical space to be heard throughout. Rarely is a young band's career is such praise so warranted, and we're all quite eager to hear more. -Paige Maguire