Blog

50. The Appleseed Cast: Sagarmatha
49. In Case of Fire: Align the Planets
48. Weezer: Raditude
47. Thursday: Common Existence
46. Tegan & Sara: Sainthood
45. Alexisonfire: Old Crows/Young Cardinals
44. Japandroids: Post-Nothing
43. Dinosaur Jr.: Farm
42. Camera Obscura: My Maudlin Career
41. The Flaming Lips: Embryonic
40. Muse: The Resistance
39. Noah and the Whale: First Days of Spring
38. The Temper Trap: Conditions
37. Dance Gavin Dance: Happiness
36. NOFX: Coaster
35. Sonic Youth: The Eternal
34. Thrice: Beggars
33. Grammatics: Grammatics
32. Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band: Outer South
31. The Decemberists: The Hazards of Love
30. Girls: Album
29. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
28. Eels: Hombre Lobo
27. Lightning Dust: Infinite Light
26. Wild Beasts: Two Dancers
25. Cursive: Mama, I'm Swollen
24. Metric: Fantasies
23. Stellastarr*: Civilised
22. Green Day: 21st Century Breakdown
21. Pissed Jeans: King of Jeans
20. Flood of Red: Leave Everything Behind
19. White Lies: To Lose My Life
18. The Cribs: Ignore the Ignorant
17. Gallows: Grey Britain
16. Grizzly Bear: Veckatmist
15. Fake Problems: It's Great To Be Alive
14. Mumford and Sons: Sigh No More
13. Propagandhi: Supporting Caste
12. The Twilight Sad: Forget the Night Ahead
11. Twin Atlantic: Vivarium

10. Biffy Clyro: Only Revolutions

It may not manage to reach the lofty heights of 'Puzzle' but then, when you've made one of the very best records of the last twenty or so years, it's always going to be a bit of a challenge to follow it. Still, 'Only Revolutions' is a mighty fine album and one that's more than worthy of your undivided attention. The opening salvo of 'The Captain', absolutely the pop song of the year, and 'That Golden Rule', probably the rock song of the year (check out that orchestral closing minute!) is freaking orgasmic. And then there's the ludicrously anthemic 'Bubbles', the beautifully tender 'God and Satan', last year's greatest rock record 'Mountains', epic ballad 'Many of Horror', the utterly absurd, but unfathomably brilliant, 'Born on a Horse'... the list goes on and on. This is an album packed to the brim with opulence; with delicious feasts for the ears. Forget your reservations, Biffy purists, and let its playful charm sweep right over you. You'll feel better for it. Honest.

9. Sucioperro: Pain Agency

‘Pain Agency’ is an utterly terrifying record, delving deep into decidedly disturbing thematic territory and unleashing a tidal wave of criminally intense, magnificently harrowing guitar noise to soundtrack it. This is certainly no easy listen, but this is exactly what gives the record its power. From the lilting acoustic sway of ‘Conception Territory’ to the death metal tones of the thoroughly evil ‘Mum’s Bad Punk Music’, ‘Pain Agency’ refuses to be pigeonholed, taking the listener on a gloriously sporadic sensory journey and, for all the ride may be a harrowing one, it proves all the more rewarding for it. Pain never sounded, or felt, quite this good.

8. Idlewild: Post Electric Blues

For album number six, Idlewild tend to stick to what they do best, marrying larger-than-life hooks with glitzy, punchy guitar pop. 'Post Electric' owes more to 'Warnings/Promises' than previous release 'Make Another World'; its palate is less immediate and sonically intense, embracing the folky introspection of Woomble's solo work as much as providing guiltless rock thrills, but this only makes the album that much more interesting. Rod's wonderful guitar stabs are often accompanied by tinkles on the ivories, as in the lovely 'City Hall'. There are experiments with brass and unusual percussion, elements that make lead single 'Readers and Writers' such a joy, and there is female vocal accompaniment, provided by the effortlessly talented Heidi Talbot, which adds a fresh dimension to the band's sound. She accentuates the power of wistful ballad 'Take Me Back to the Islands' but, perhaps more impressively, actually manages to make something glorious out of a series of 'la la la's, which is all she provides on 'Younger than America', the album's superlatively anthemic opener. Somehow, her minuscule contribution seems gargantuan, giving the track a sort of rapturous feel that sends shivers down the spine. It may take a few listens but it'll soon become apparent that yet again, the Scotsmen have created something truly special.

7. Silversun Pickups: Swoon

Swooning its way into our hearts (hah... see what I did there? *tumbleweed*), Silversun Pickups' latest offering is a veritable treasure trove of musical delights, taking the listener on a roller coaster ride that's highly demanding on the emotions. The eerie melodrama of 'There's No Secrets This Year' soon gives way to the full throttle agony of 'The Royal We' and 'Panic Switch', before taking in the tragically quiet despair of 'Draining' and 'Catch and Release'. There's crushing agony too: 'It's Nice To Know You Work Alone' has probably one of the greatest hooks of the year, but singer Brian Aubert's creepily high pitched vocal transforms it into something unrelentingly terrifying. A wonderfully rich and expertly demanding record that ultimately provides many, many rewards.

6. Future of the Left: Travels With Myself and Another

Jack Egglestone is an angry man. Quite what he’s angry about, however, is anyone’s guess. The latest batch of aggressive, scuzzy noise rock to come out of the Future of the Left camp is as deliciously oblique and frustratingly nonsensical as always; traversing a minefield of guttural rants without really explaining just what on Earth’s got the boys so incredibly riled. Listening to ‘Travels with Myself and Another’ is sort of like wandering into a blistering domestic row halfway through, and not knowing anything about any of the parties involved. The lyrics are replete with didactic, accusatory exclamations, often directed at specific individuals (the stingingly pinpointed Rick of ‘Arming Eritrea’, ‘Throwing Bricks at Trains’’ Reginald J. Trucksfield) and contain frankly bizarre concepts: ‘Drink Nike’? You what? ‘He’s one of a kind/He’s got chin music’? Excuse me? Would someone mind explaining to me just what the fudge is going on? Of course, it doesn't matter really. Fact is, 'Travels' rocks like one hell of a bastard, spunking all over your poor unsuspecting stereo for thirty five purely visceral minutes. F-ing fantastic.

5. The Xcerts: In the Cold Wind We Smile

Scotland's barren, bitter landscapes have given us the criminally underrated Idlewild, the enigmatic Biffy Clyro, the gargantuan Sucioperro and the evocativce Glasvegas, as well as some of the year's most promising upstarts in these whipper-snappers, Aberdeen's quite unbelievably teenage Xcerts. Surely there must be something in the water? (Let's just forget that Texas ever happened, shall we?) 'In the Cold Wind We Smile' is a surprisingly assured release from such young minds. Its lyrics are thankfully bereft of the usual hyperbole that typify teenage writing, and the musical accompaniment is a glorious mix of the best elements of the original emo bands (Get Up Kids, Sunny Day Real Estate, Saves the Day) and output from various contemporary Scottish acts (Biffy, Jetpacks et al.) It's an expressive, cathartic piece with a massive heart and a tonne of ambition. Domestic strife never sounded so thrilling.

4. Manic Street Preachers: Journal For Plague Lovers

It seems almost clichéd to suggest it, and doubtless there will be those who claim that it’s just a load of smoke being blown further up the arse of a man who has practically achieved God-like status in the fourteen years since his disappearance, but fuck me, ‘Journal for Plague lovers’ is fantastic. Somehow, some way, James Dean Bradfield, Nicky Wire and Sean Moore have done their lost friend all the justice they could, and then some. The music matches the lyrics so wonderfully, evoking exactly what the oft-beguiling words seem to suggest, that it appears almost effortless, as if they were intrinsically aware of what was needed without having to consciously think about it, like the interpretation just tumbled out of them, ready made and bloody marvellous. ‘Journal’ works both as a testament to a hugely talented man and as a thrill-packed rock record, full of beautiful melodies, gorgeous guitar wizardry and air-punching intensity. At times, it feels prudent to cast aside all thoughts of Richey altogether; as Christian Bale says in the first ten seconds of the album, ‘we know so little about [him]’, after all. But it doesn’t matter; Manic Street Preachers have made a record that surpasses these concerns, cutting past the distractions in trying to seem authentic and simply allowing the words to stand on their own. It's got the album sleeve of the year too...

3. We Were Promised Jetpacks: These Four Walls

As well has having probably the coolest name on the planet, Glasgow’s We Were Promised Jetpacks make one hell of a fantastic racket. ‘These Four Walls’ sounds absolutely monumental, a towering inferno of cacophonous instrument rape built on a penchant for the most intense sort of crescendo known to man. Virtually all of the album’s eleven tracks are addictively restless, starting out quiet but curiously sporadic, goading the listener into keeping a spasmodic sort of time when there is none being kept within the song. This lends a raw flavour to the music, augmented by a smattering of jagged, scattershot guitars and unusual timbre, upon which the band add layer after layer of sound with each passing minute, before finally reaching a sort of cathartic apex; the auditory orgasm, if you will. It’s the same tactic that’s allowed The Arcade Fire to become such critical stalwarts, except enhanced tenfold by the sheer bombast of the noise that the band make. They’re more like a comprehendible Die! Die! Die! or pretenders to Biffy Clyro’s throne, using the less radio-friendly song structures of their earlier material. ‘These Four Walls’ is an absolute gem, a record dripping with visceral delights that demand you return again and again, seeking the same thrills but all the while discovering spectacular new ones. It claws its way out of its own four walls, restlessly hammering at your eardrums until you just can’t help but fall hopelessly in love with it. You can have your jetpacks guys; we’ll take your music.

2. Brand New: Daisy

‘Daisy’ is a miserably aggressive horror show of a record that trawls the darkest depths of the human psyche, exploring a world of desperation, loss and emotional catastrophe. Play this beast at a party and your guests are likely to start bashing each others’ brains in with the furniture. The album takes the misery and hopelessness of 2006’s astounding ‘The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me’ and reimagines it through musical cacophony; ‘heavy’ doesn’t even begin to describe the raw, distorted guitars and abrasive, crashing drums that pound at your earlobes throughout. This is less the sound of the defeated and more the sound of the disgusted: instruments are assaulted rather than played, and Jesse screams like Frank Carter’s demented second cousin twice removed over most of the tracks, obliterating any semblance of melody. It sounds like a horrific listening experience but actually, it’s quite the opposite. Like a good car crash, you just can’t help but be fascinated by ‘Daisy’; to want to stare, self-destructively, at its twisted, repugnant carcass. This is an album that demands multiple listens, that won’t escape from your CD player for months, no matter how much you may want it to. It’s another almighty swerve from a band that just won’t sit still, that refuse to be what everyone wants them to be, and for that, they should be applauded. Fuck partying guys, let’s smash shit up.

1. Manchester Orchestra: Mean Everything To Nothing

There’s something of a buzz surrounding Manchester Orchestra; following 2006’s impressively mature debut, ‘I’m like a Virgin Losing a Child’, the Georgia five-piece have become critical dahlings, and for once, it’s wholly justified. With ‘Mean Everything to Nothing’, the band have produced their magnum opus, a superlative distillation of their quintessentially bleak, yet unquestionably anthemic, sound. At times, it's a difficult listen; its despondency is initially unwelcoming and takes some time to truly appreciate, but, as with all good things, perseverance pays dividends. The album harnesses the kind of emotional gravitas and packs the same incredibly stomach-churning punch as tour mates Brand New’s phenomenal ‘The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me’ and that really is no small feat. Manchester Orchestra splatter heart, soul, blood and guts all over this record, giving you everything they’ve got, and for that, they should mean everything to everyone. An undisputed classic.

Manchester Orchestra
Brand New
We Were Promised Jetpacks
Manic Street Preachers
The Xcerts
Biffy Clyro
Silversun Pickups
Future of the Left
Idlewild
Sucioperro
Twin Atlantic
Girls
The Twilight Sad
Weezer
Fake Problems
Propagandhi
Wild Beasts
Green Day
Mumford & Sons
Grizzly Bear
The Appleseed Cast
In Case of Fire
White Lies
Flood of Red
Gallows
The Cribs
Pissed Jeans
Japandroids
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
Cursive
Thrice
Dance Gavin Dance
Thursday
Alexisonfire
stellastarr*
Metric
Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band
The Decemberists
Lightning Dust
Grammatics
Eels
Tegan & Sara
The Temper Trap
NOFX
The Flaming Lips
Camera Obscura
Muse
Noah and the Whale
Sonic Youth
Dinosaur Jr.