2008 Albums: 21-25

25. Peter Bjorn and John - Seaside Rock

Most of the reviews I've read seem to really hate this album. Maybe it's because, without a doubt, it's a huge let-down after Writers Block. It's a slapped-together instrumental album with lots of clips of Swedish people talking and not a single great pop hook. No doubt, this is probably a bunch of leftover half-cooked stuff that they put out while working on their proper follow-up with vocals. But I don't know -- I sorta like it. If I'd never heard of Peter Bjorn and John before and this album came on, I think I'd enjoy it. There are at least a couple frustrating moments when a good buildup is thrown away or the blathering old Swedish woman just keeps talking a little too long. But it doesn't take itself too seriously, it's imbued with a kind of child-like charm, and has lovely moments. The band's future is not in mining experimental electronics--it is, hopefully, in writing 60s-esque pop songs--but I still like this album.

24. Beach House - Devotion

I'm a serious sucker for ambient and moody albums, and this kind of dream pop gets me every time. I am more than happy to submit to a world of muddled, ethereal, hazy sounds. But to create this seamless world is to risk writing songs that all sounds the same. That leads to a pleasing but boring album. Which has been a consistent criticism I've read about this album.

What makes Devotion work is the variation within the songs. Weepy keyboards and calm work on an electric slide guitar are the albums constancy, but the music subtly changes in interesting ways throughout. The album is placid, but the ghostly lyrics and singing of Victoria Legrand keep things from feeling settled. Kind of like Broadcast but a little less stark and spare.

23. The Dodos - Visiter

The first time I listened to the Fleet Foxes, I emailed Nick right away because he'd told me to download it. "This is so beautiful," I dashed off. "Oh, you're just getting to that?" came the dismissing reply. "Try the Dodos. It takes a little more time to get, but definitely worth it." So try I did, to get into the Dodos. I downloaded the album without reading much about them, and listened to it. Over and over again. Probably ten times. But I couldn't make any sense of it. It just seemed spotty and disorganized. And really frustrating.

A couple months ago I tried again, and finally understood that they're not trying to write pop songs. I realized that people were comparing them to the freak-folk scene, and Animal Collective's "more straightforward moments" in the words of the Pitchfork review. I started to relax and let the album set its own terms. And I think I got it. They're nowhere near as exciting and joyous as Yeasayer last year or Animal Collective--no single song knocks your socks off--but they've quietly made a very good album once you obey its rules more than your own.

22. Conor Oberst - S/T

"There's nothin' that the road cannot heal." God, we need songwriters around who still sing a line like this so earnestly, who build an album around it glorifying driving and wanderlust. Even though I think I've reached an age where I can no longer read Keroac's On the Road without sheepish embarrassment at its zealous naiveté, I'll still listen happily to Oberst conjuring up old cliches. Maybe our generation no longer believes in the road; we're not sad when Peter Fonda sighs at the end of Easy Rider, "You know Billy, we blew it." But hearing about the road in songs? I lay back and indulge.

What I loved about I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning is true of this album: the way Oberst writes songs that seem offhand and yet packed full of intensity. It's probably something to do with the shaky quality of his voice. With this album the highs are not quite so high, the lows not as low--the songs are more even-keel, the songwriting is stellar. It's just a more laid-back record, a little more traditional in its folky-country sound. That's quite fine though--it makes for a great album.

21. Air France - No Way Down

Air France aren't French, they're Swedish, and that's an important point. There's no summer in Sweden, or no summer like the average person would define it. It's all a joke. For an album that sounds like it was born on a tropical island, but created in snowy Sweden, this is pretty convincing. Living in Estonia, I listen to this and think fondly on fellow Northern European / Scandinvian neighbors as the driving windy snow blows down the street, and how we are all working together to collectively imagine beachy paradise. "Sorta like a dream?" asks the innocent girl's voice on "Collapsing at Your Doorstep." "No, better."

The summery vibe is only a part of it, though -- the music is also rich and textured and wonderfully reminscent of The Avalanches. Every time I listen to "Beach Party" I want to run and put on Since I Left You. But then I stay, and realized that Air France might be just as good.