This year presented some particular difficulties because this is the year I became a dad. I don't want to be one of those guys who becomes a dad and totally loses touch with new music, because music is still really important to me. True, I haven't seen a band play all year. Ugh, I just wrote that and felt a little sick. But that makes sense because seeing a band means leaving the house at night when I would rather be sleeping. Listening to music, on the other hand, is something you can pretty much do during every hour of your waking life, particularly if you're someone like me who sits in front of a computer all day and doesn't ever need to talk to another human being. I hope for your sake you are not someone like me.

You can even listen to music with your kids, if you want. Although I also don't want to be one of those guys who's like, "my kids are only allowed to listen to the Velvet Underground and Captain Beefheart." Because every kid needs to have his or her crap music phase, right? Thankfully my daughter is still at the age where I can listen to adult-oriented stuff in her presence without her bothering me all the time with questions like, "what's a gat?" and "why is the woman in the song making those horrible moaning noises?" I mean, I turn it off when her ears start bleeding. I'm a very conscientious father.

But having said that, I didn't really have the time to sit with records as much as I would have liked this year. And very few albums really blew me away, aside from my number one album, which is one of my very favorite albums of the last several years. With all those caveats in mind, I'm just going to say "fuck it" and present the fifteen records that did the best job of breaking through the clutter.

15. Los Campesinos! - Hello Sadness
There are bands you want to fuck and bands you want to cuddle. Los Campesinos! is decidedly in the latter camp. But that's okay ... the band you want to fuck will only disappoint you and leave you miserable in the end. On the Campesinos! fourth record, they cover much of the same territory they've explored on their previous albums: heartache, loss, sorrow, and the impossibility of finding true love. The genius of the Campesinos! is that even when they're nursing broken hearts, they still sound like they're having a good time. Even if you're not bowled over by their recordings, be sure to catch them live … if you can leave that venue without feeling like you've had a spiritual experience, I'll give you your money back.

That's not true. I won't give you your money back. But I will be like, "whaaaaat?"

14. St. Vincent - Strange Mercy
What is this, performance art? Musical theater? Prog rock? I have no idea, but I like it. Three albums in, St. Vincent (nee Annie Clark) has yet to make a bad move. The most obvious comparison is Kate Bush because of her unapologetic art-rock leanings, but I might liken her more to Paul Thomas Anderson. Like PTA, Clark has an absolute mastery of her craft and the ability to make work that is artistic without being distancing. The flip side is that, as with PTA, St. Vincent's work can sometimes seem a little cold. Is cold the same thing as distancing? Maybe I just contradicted myself. Being a music critic is hard!

13. Mister Heavenly - Out of Love
Mister Heavenly is an indie-rock supergroup composed of dudes from Man Man, Islands, Modest Mouse, and the Shins. (Can one still call it indie-rock when two of the groups on this list have released albums that have debuted in the Billboard top 10? I really miss the days when we referred to it as college rock. It's rock! For college kids! But kinda not really because I'm 36 and I'm pretty sure all the dudes in this band are in their like 60s. Still, that's so much better than "alternative.") They call their music style "doom-wop" which I think we can all agree is the worst and should never be mentioned ever again. The guy from Islands sings like he's in an ad for free credit reports. One of the songs is called "Diddy Eyes" and it's as awful a song as has ever been recorded. But despite all of that, I really like this record. That was a great review, me! Now go out and buy it, you!

12. James Blake - James Blake
Remember when everyone was so pumped for this James Blake record? And then it came out, and everyone was like, "this is the best thing!" And then the end of the year came around, and everyone was like, "James who now?" Well, I remember, Mr. Blake, and I remember spending a good month drinking sizzurp and listening to your record nonstop and feeling like the world was full of beauty and pain and wanting to engage but not really having the motivation (on account of all the codeine) and feeling grateful that I could just participate in the world from afar through your lovely album.

11. Fountains of Wayne - Sky Full of Holes
Fountains of Wayne are dad-rock for the Park Slope generation. Being as how I am now a dad, this is the only band on the list that actually speaks to me. Sky Full of Holes doesn't make me want to do dangerous things to my body the way some of the records on my list do, but their thoughtful, hilarious song-stories about middle-class folks trying to find a sense of dignity in their day-to-day lives are almost always catchy and heart-wrenching and nostalgic and relatable to someone like me in a way that music created by 22 year-old guys in leather pants is not. Of course, I always end up gravitating toward the 22 year-old guys in leather pants when I want to listen to something, because that's who I secretly want to be. And so do the guys in Fountains of Wayne, so, you know, full circle, or something.

10. Delicate Steve - Wondervisions
This is the only record I've ever bought because of a press release. The press release was written by Chuck Klosterman. I've actually never read anything by him before except these dumb drawing things he used to do on the back page of Spin. I guess maybe that's because I'm a hater and that guy seems like he's got the life I wish I had. But I can't hate this press release because it's the greatest thing I've ever read. Man! Was that a good press release. Oh, the record's pretty sweet, too.

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TOP TEN

10. RED STATE
Written and directed by Kevin Smith.
Trailer: http://bit.ly/vMIYiP

I know, I know—you don’t have to tell me. Kevin Smith made the list. As a Hostel retread, at least one-third of Red State fumbles for its torture porn aspirations—providing Smith’s dunderheaded high school horndogs some of his most humorless dialogue yet. But Michael Parks performance as ultra-fundamentalist Abin Cooper conjures up a cool-headed psychotic in the vein of Westboro Baptist Church’s pastor Fred Phelps mingled in with Robert Mitchum in Night of the Hunter. His fifteen-minute sermon at the center of Red State is worth the rental alone.

9. INSIDIOUS
Written by Leigh Whannell. Directed by James Wan.
Trailer: http://bit.ly/uzDzkw

From the minds of Saw, fused together with the producers of Paranormal Activity, these two frighteningly successful franchises join forces to deliver a technical exercise in cribbing from the greats. Fans of Poltergeist should file a lawsuit, but I’ll argue that the first half of Insidious is a rather sturdy rift on the haunted house yarn, supplying an proper dosage of violin strings (and boy are they shrill), bait-and-switch Boo!-scares, and a decent heap of eeriness to thrill the kiddies for the film’s requisite 90-minute run-time. Let’s skip any discussion on Insidious’ latter half, shall we? When Lin Shaye pulls out the WWI-era gas mask and starts communing with the dead, you can almost hear the pinched warble of Zelda Rubinstein calling from beyond: Carol Anne? Tell her to go to the light!

8. AMER
Written and directed by Helene Cattet and Bruno Forzani.
Trailer: http://bit.ly/uSLBwV

An art-house giallo redux. An MTVed Suspiria. Totally pretentious—but I loved it. By taking the Dario Argento/Mario Bava-template and extending it into a 90-minute music video, writer-director team Cattet and Forzani give us a near-wordless, dialogue-free portrait of Ana. Focusing on three key moments in her life—the death of a grandparent as a young girl, a breathless run-in with a biker gang as a teenager, and a sexually-charged attack from a leather-gloved marauder wielding a straight-razor as an adult—the audience watches Ana plunge head-first into her own color-saturated fantasies, blurring the lines between what is real and what essentially amounts to a binge-session of Italian horror flicks. Style-over-content all the way—but with a color-scheme from Argento’s best films serving as Amer’s prototype, this one’s a lot of goofball fun.

7. I SAW THE DEVIL (AKMAREUI BOATDA)
Written by Hoon-jung Park. Directed by Jee-woon Kim.
Trailer: http://bit.ly/vgMDct

The cliché game of cat-and-mouse gets a brutal role reversal in this absurd, nasty little treasure. Kim Soo-hyeon’s fiancé has recently been murdered by a diabolical psychopath who has alluded the police for years. But as fate would have it, Kim himself just-so-happens to be something of a super-secret top agent for lord only knows who or what—and now, with a lot more time on his hands, he focuses his super-secret top agenting skills on making the life of his fiancé’s murderer a living inferno of pain and regret. Thus ensues one of the more wince-inducing diversions of catch-and-release that I’ve ever seen onscreen. Clocking in at a jaw-dropping two and a half hours, the nihilism permeating this film eventually becomes too opaque to take seriously—but director Jee-woon Kim, who is responsible for other such K-horrors as A Tale of Two Sisters, stages a handful of set-pieces that demand close-viewing. At least for those who can stomach it.

6. FRIGHT NIGHT
Written by Marti Noxon. Based on the original screenplay by Tom Holland. Directed by Craig Gillespie.
Trailer: http://bit.ly/syfHCP

A remake makes the list! With the vampire-craze hitting its peak, it’s not such a shocker that the vultures would swoop down and peck at the bones of Tom Holland’s 1985 mini-classic. What is a bit befuddling however is how little Craig Gillespie (Lars and the Real Girl) sticks to the original and still feels the need to cling to its source material. This update would do better to stand alone, on its own, removed from William Ragsdale and the rest. By streamlining the original film’s storyline (next door neighbor is a vampire) and stripping the narrative of what made its cinematic ancestor so much fun (namely by swapping Roddy McDowall’s turn as a late night creature feature host for David Tennant’s odd spin as a Criss Angel-ish Vegas magician), I cry foul for going the remake route in the first place. The narrative parallels between the two are scant—and what connective tissue remains attached are arguably the low-points for the remake. Evil Ed? Christopher Mintz-Plasse, I’ve seen Stephen Geoffreys, I knew Stephen Geoffreys, his turn as Evil Ed is a favorite of mine. Christopher—you’re no Stephen Geoffreys.

But thankfully there is enough innovative material within this update to really stand on its own, completely independent from its predecessor. Much like Matt Reeves did with his own remake of yet another sacred vampire-cow Let the Right One In, Gillespie is at his best when he forges into fresher, original territory with his version of Fright Night. That at least lessens the sentimental sting of witnessing yet another childhood horror being mined and sapped of all its 80’s glory. A remake by any other name…

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So here, in my humble opinion, are 8 of the most awkward things that happened in 2010.  In chronological order.

1. January: the tallest man-made structure ever built, the Burj Kalifa in Dubai, opens.   This is awkward for two reasons: one, this tower is so much taller than absolutely every other building anywhere near it that it simply looks ridiculous; two, Dubai ran out of money while building it and had to turn to its neighboring Arab Emirate, Abu Dhabi, for finishing funds.  As a result, it was renamed “Burj Kalifa” at the behest of the Abu Dhabi government.  This is a little bit like building the tallest building in the world in New York and having to name it after the Canadian prime minister.

2. April: Volcanic ash from the eruption of Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull interrupts air traffic across Europe for over a week.  This is awkward both because it’s almost inconceivable that a word could have as confusing a spelling as “Eyjafjallajökull,” and also because it reminds us that Nature can still kick Man in the ass whenever it wants.

3. May: A youtube video of an Indonesian baby with a 2-pack-a-day cigarette habit causes worldwide controversy.  If you haven’t seen this video, it is undeniably awkward. You can watch it here.

4. May: Joran Van Sloot admits that he has just recently murdered a Peruvian woman, approximately five years after he's accused of murdering Natalie Holloway in Aruba.  Odds are this guy’s a homicidal lunatic—I mean, how many times is an innocent person a suspect in two brutal murders?  What’s awkward about this case is that it appears Van Sloot was paid $15,000 by the FBI as part of a sting operation against him.  It looks like this is the money he used to pay his way to Peru, where he found his next victim. A macabre (and for the FBI, very embarrassing) irony.

5. June: In Kyrgyzstan, ethnic riots between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks resulted in hundreds dying.  I rate this as awkward not just because Kyrgyzstan gives Eyjafjallajökull a run for its money in the spelling department, but also because most people outside of Kyrgyzstan have no idea what the difference is between a Kyrgyz and an Uzbek.  Nor do most people outside this former Soviet republic know that either ethnic group even exists.  It’s a fitting reminder, I think, that many problems look very small from afar.  A good lesson to remember both in politics and in life.

6. November: UK's Independent newspaper identified the wrong guy as a Nazi war criminal. The paper published an article with the headline "Wanted for the deaths of 430,000 Jews. Evaded justice for 67 years. Died a free man."  Somehow -- they've been unable to explain how this happened -- it turned out that the photograph that accompanied this article did not actually depict Nazi war criminal Samuel Kunz.  It was in fact a Croatian actor named Ljubomir Jurkovic.

7. December: In a speech about the “Healthy, Hunger-Free Kids Act,” President Obama refers to Senate minority leader Mitch McConnell—one of his most avid opponents—as “Mike.” Also awkward: the name of the “Healthy, Hunger-Free Kids Act.”  Watch the video here.

8. December: about a thousand dead blackbirds fell from the sky onto Beebe, Arkansas on New Year’s Eve.  These deaths are as yet completely unexplained.  I don’t know if this is actually awkward, or just bizarre, but dammit I’m ending the list with it.

Truth be told –- this year, it was pretty slim pickings for the genre. Rib-bone thin. The multiplexes presented a dearth of horror flicks worth leaving the house for. Venturing beyond the genre offered a few deadly diamonds-in-the-rough for those brave enough to go hunting for them – but they’re out there, believe you me, lurking within some of the furthermost sections of the video store. I can feel myself already catching heat from the die-hards for a few selections on this list, but let’s be completely honest with ourselves here: Some of the most unnerving, truly frightening, utterly engrossing horror films of the year wouldn’t even be considered quote-unquote horror by traditional genre standards. I dare you to defy my selections for the best horror films 2010 had to offer…

HONORABLE MENTIONS
Buried, Splice, The Crazies, The Last Exorcism, The Children, Altitude, Survival of the Dead, Rec 2, The Disappearance of Alice Creed, The Eclipse, and The Horseman.

10. FROZEN
Written and directed by Adam Green.
Watch the trailer here.

Full confession: I am not a fan of Adam Green’s Hatchet films. At all. Reductive rather than resourceful, his lauded slasher re-hashes smack of microwaved leftovers from a Vorhees family Thanksgiving dinner circa Friday the 13th Pt. V. So – imagine what a pleasant surprise it was to encounter FROZEN. Coming in with the lowest of expectations, I was happy to discover a film that prefers patience over genre-pandering. Taking a very simple concept, a trio of friends stranded on a ski lift, Green goes for broke and milks every conceivable polar-moment for their blistering potential. Frostbite has never felt more palpable onscreen… or this much fun. The camera lingers on skin-in-distress to such an intense (zero) degree(s), it’s impossible not to feel one’s own flesh crackle while viewing it. Kudos to Green for favoring the simplicity of a humble story and telling it well, taking the physical limitations of his conceit and turning them into narrative strengths – which only makes the fact that FROZEN was book-ended between Hatchets, parts one and two, all the more disheartening. Back to the slasher re-treads, I guess…

9. TRIANGLE
Written and directed by Christopher Smith.
Watch the trailer here.

Christopher Smith has been responsible for several British fright flicks – such as Creep and Severance – that, while commendable in their execution, ultimately fall short from hitting their bull’s eye. Which is a bummer, for sure, given Smith’s immensely self-evident dedication to the genre. It’s impossible not to root for this director, film after film, because you can tell he’s learning – and luckily, the learning curve has been kind to the man with TRIANGLE. Third time’s the charm. All it took was setting sail into the Bermuda Triangle, twisting along this Mobius strip of a film that’s equal parts time-travel mind-funk and slasher-flick. Imagine The Shining meets Donnie Darko. Or Back to the Future meets The Burning. Or A Sound of Thunder meets… No. Nevermind. Don’t imagine A Sound of Thunder. At all. Most reminiscent of all, however – is Nacho Vigalondo’s Spanish (and moderately more tongue-and-cheeky) Timecrimes. A double feature of these two films might cancel each other out in some odd cinematic space/time continuum. Mirrors upon mirrors upon mirrors.... The less you think about the goofball complexities of this puzzle and just go for the ride, following Melissa George as she cruises through an endless loop of axe-murderers on the open seas, the more fun you’ll probably have. I’m betting Smith’s next film, The Black Death, is even better…

8. PEACOCK
Written by Michael Lander and Ryan O Roy. Directed by Michael Lander.
Watch the trailer here.

Where in the hell did this movie come from? One of the biggest mysteries of this Cillian Murphy starrer is that virtually nobody has ever even heard of it. How could a movie featuring Susan Sarandon, Ellen Page, and Bill Pullman, among other Hollywood heavies, go this unnoticed? Its storyline – that’s how. Dumped onto DVD earlier this year, PEACOCK presents itself as a Psycho-inspired thriller, where the mystery of whodunit is entirely internalized into the mind of one wildly fractured individual. The less you know about PEACOCK, the better – but rest assured, this one’s worth the cinematic rubbernecking purely for the perverse pleasure of watching a film that challenges itself to tell such an offbeat story. Most of the time, it succeeds, thanks to Murphy’s delicate performance – his second time in drag, following his turn in Breakfast On Pluto. Norman Bates has got nothing on this mother-humper. As soon as he’s pitted against, well, himself, this occasionally-plodding film shifts into some devious fun well worth the rental. Find it.

7. MONSTERS
Written and directed by Gareth Edwards.
Watch the trailer here.

It was inevitable: A mumblecore monster movie. Bound to happen sooner or later, right? Don’t let the slackened performance style fool you, though. This flick has a lot to offer sci-fi fans, particularly its crisp creature design by visual effects artist Gareth Edwards. A little lo-fi FX goes on awfully long way here. MONSTERS milks the all-too familiar metaphor of aliens-as-other xenophobia a la Alien Nation and Enemy Mine, this time taking that ol’ extraterrestrial chestnut and heading south of the border. After a NASA deep space probe crashes back on earth, the majority of Mexico gradually metamorphoses into an “infected zone.” Migrating packs of tentacled humpbacks now call the country their stomping ground – and America promptly responds by erecting an immense barrier that would make the Great Wall of China blush. Quicker than Jan Brewer can say SB 1070, immigration gets its own interstellar spin. At its hipstered-heart, however, MONSTERS is something of a love story, as our two slacker-protagonists Andrew and Samantha mutter their way through Mexico in hopes of hopping the border back into the states. Lessons in intergalactic tolerance are learned and… well, I’m being a hair-too cynical here. Criticizing MONSTERS for its earnestness would be like chastising the sci-fi flicks of the 50’s for their sense of social consciousness, which this film is clearly kin to. Beautiful moments abound, especially when Edwards focuses on the environmental minutiae of the aftermath of his alien “invasion.” And it looks so real. I’d recommend a double feature of MONSTERS along with last year’s District 9 purely for their vérité effects – but if you pushed me to pick a favorite, I’d be bold and say I prefer Edwards’ micro-budgeted walkabout over Neill Blomkamp’s action-yarn, strictly for its simple story and quiet moments. Even the mumbling.

6. COLIN
Written and directed by Marc Price.
Watch the trailer here.

Released in the UK in 2008 but just now making its way to DVD in the states, COLIN has every right to be re-titled The Lil’ Zombie Romp That Could. Dragging the term low budget down to profoundly infinitesimal depths, the total price tag for this by-the-bootstraps production tallied somewhere around £45. As in – seventy bucks. As in – my monthly Metro card cost me more than the entirety of this heartfelt film. And it was a hit at Cannes! Shot on a clunky Panasonic mini-DV camcorder, Marc Price jumps in headfirst with his spin on the well-tread zombie apocalypse – introducing us to Colin, bitten before the opening credits, well on his way to zombification within the first few minutes of the movie. Freshly dead, we follow zombie-Colin through his reanimated day-to-day, noshing on survivors and ducking lynch mobs in the streets of Manchester. We’ve officially entered Bub territory here, people. Fans of George Romero’s Day of the Dead will find a kindred spirit in Colin, as leading man Alastair Kirton humanizes the inhuman much the same way that Sherman Howard provided a tragic depth to his zombified private back in 1985. While the first half of COLIN suffers the most from its budgetary constraints, viewers will be rewarded for sticking around for the final forty-five minutes – shifting into a series of intense set pieces that run through the gamut of complex emotions, equally frightening and heartbreaking in their execution. Most rewarding by far is the familial: Scenes of Colin’s surviving kin and the choices they are compelled to make in the name of family resonate well past the closing credits. Send a Hallmark card to your sisters, boys. She may just end up saving your undead ass one day…

So then! On with the show!

15. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
Halcyon Digest is a difficult record to critique, because it sounds like a completely different album every time I listen to it. It's not the kind of record that normally gets high marks from me … as an avowed fan of the pop hook, I generally gravitate toward music that gets stuck in my head. And every time I listen to Halcyon Digest I immediately forget what the songs sound like, making every listen a fresh experience. It has nothing to do with the hookiness of the songs ... there are plenty of hooks, from the 60s radio shimmy of "Don't Worry" to the Brit-pop of "Memory Boy" ... but the hits rise up like sneaky venus flytraps out of the foggy audio swamp that permeates the record. Or swamp is a bad word, because that makes it sound like the record is muddy or bluesy, which it isn't at all ... if it's muddy at all, it's angel mud. And the venus flytraps are those Super Mario flytraps that climb up into the sky when you hit the right block.

14. Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
I totally don't care; I LOVE me some Kanye. I know people love talking about how he's a lunatic and a total asshole and what not, but all that shit is overblown if you ask me ... really, anyone who is regularly unleashing his unfiltered thoughts upon Twitter, (which is a thing we're all supposed to do right now, btw), is going to look like an idiot at some point. If Ernest Hemingway was around in the age of Twitter, people wouldn't be like, "man, what a Twitter genius," they'd be like, "remember when Hemingway sent out that dumb-ass tweet about how girls were like chocolate bars?" But regardless, I would so much rather the world were full of pop stars like Kanye who say things that are both ridiculous and amazing than people like Taylor Swift who never say anything in the slightest bit interesting because their brains are full of Beanie Babies.

And all that has nothing to do with the music, which everyone pretty much agrees is the tits. This record might rank higher if I had more time to listen to it, but seeing as how it just came out a few weeks ago and I've been mucking about with a baby during that time, Kanye's going to have to accept the fact that he didn't top EVERY poll that came out this year.

On the other hand, it might not rank higher, for three reasons: 1) there is one track right in the middle of the album ("Devil in a New Dress") that is completely unnecessary and has no hook and goes on forever and doesn't say anything interesting; 2) wow! is this record dirty. I mean, I've got nothing against a dirty record, but I'm amazed that, in all the glowing reviews of this album, I haven't read any reviews saying, "wow! is this record dirty!" I guess we just live in a dirty world now and it doesn't shock anyone anymore. I don't care that it's dirty, but I care that it doesn't matter to anyone that it's dirty, even though it doesn't matter to me that it's dirty, but I have a daughter now, and I have to look out for people like Kanye with their potty mouths and their fancy, daughter-luring Jesus necklaces; and 3) this thing is CRAWLING with product placement. I know hip-hop is all about the merchandise, but really, Ye, I think Prada's gonna give you free shoes whether you namedrop them or not. But no hate; obviously, I like you well enough to hand you the 14 spot with no reservations, even though Midlake came out with a kick-ass record this year, too.

And btw, Taylor Swift? Kanye was totally right; that Beyonce video was WAY better than yours.

Also, you look like a chipmunk.

13. Beach House - Teen Dream
GOOD LORD is this a beautiful record. I liked the last two Beach House records quite a bit, but this record really floors me. Teen Dream sounds like cloud cupcakes sprinkled with sunshine and wrapped up in a sleeve of first-night-at-summer-camp-nobody's-going-to-like-me terror. You know, like some kind of crazy cupcake-fear burrito. What I mean to say is that it's so, so gorgeous and heartwarming but also lonely and melancholy and devastating. One of the most aptly named bands around, too ... is there anything as simultaneously exciting and depressing as a beach house? No specific track recommendations on this one ... I tend to favor the first two songs, but probably only because they come first and I've heard them more times than the others. I would recommend waiting until 2:30 AM and putting the record on repeat until 6:00, right when the sun is starting to come up and you're taking the last sip from the last Tecate and there's really nothing left to do but fall asleep in the bathtub with that weird Panamanian chick who your cousin swears isn't retarded, even though her haircut is undoubtably questionable.

12. Hot Chip - One Life Stand
Hot Chip are the sweetest because they're totally normal-looking old dudes doing like the best techno-pop on the planet. If you saw Hot Chip walking around at the farmers' market or whatever, you'd be like, "look at those old dudes." You wouldn't even say, "look at those old dudes trying to look like young dudes," because Hot Chip doesn't give a shit. They just throw on whatever, go buy a bunch of kale and honey sticks at the farmers' market, and then hit the studio and effortlessly pump out boxes full of jams to make the kids murder themselves on the dance floor from exhaustion.

You wanna talk hooks? This record's got 'em. First of all, "I Feel Better" is the best song of the year and one of the best songs of all time, and if you don't agree, then you should be punched in the mouth. "One Life Stand" is composed from the devil's own secret earworm scale, and "Brothers" puts the moral of any given Judd Apatow movie into song form (and is Elton John's favorite song of the year, according to Rolling Stone). And it's not all dance floor ravers ... the boys bring the beat down for a couple of slow jams that round the record out in a way that shows their diversity without bringing the party down. Robyn got all the props this year for her mastery of the smart-dumb dance song, but for my money, Hot Chip is where it's at. Terrible album cover, though.

11. Cornershop - Judy Sucks a Lemon for Breakfast
Who would have ever guessed that the most immediately appealing record of the year would come from a one-(almost)-hit wonder of a band that hasn't recorded a damn thing in seven years? In case you weren't in college between the years of 1996-1998, Cornershop is the band that sang that song "Brimful of Asha." Never heard of it? How 'bout the lyric "everybody needs a bosom for a pillow"? Yeah, that band.

In 1997, Cornershop released their breakthrough album When I Was Born for the Seventh Time. The record was a critical smash, topping Spin's best of the year list & coming in at #3 in the Village Voice's Pazz & Jop poll. They waited five years to release the follow-up, Handcream for a Generation; by that time, no one really cared, and the record was largely forgotten. Now, seven years later we have Judy Sucks a Lemon for Breakfast -- and while it doesn't quite reach When I Was Born's heights, it is a far better record that could have ever been expected. The rollicking opening track, "Who Fingered Rock n' Roll?" starts the album off in high-form, and there's scarcely a misstep after that. The record's a genre-hopping gas, from the opening track to the disco-interlude "Half Brick" to the Bollywood-flavored "Free Love" to album standout "The Roll of Characteristics." Given the amount of time they've been gone, one might expect Judy to feel labored; but there isn't a moment on this record that isn't pure, easy-going, genre-hopping fun. Welcome back, fellas!

(Note: although this record was officially released in 2009, it didn't hit the States until this year. Forhence its inclusion on this list.)

I may purport myself to be some sort of authority on classic Rock & Roll, psych, pop, and punk records, but in reality, there are lots and lots and lots of them I’ve never heard. Nevertheless, I’m happy to say that I’m still discovering great old albums that are new to me, whether I’ve long heard about them but have yet to give them a spin or I’d never even been aware of their existences. Here are the ten finest retro-rock records that were new to me in 2010, presented in glorious chronological order...

1. We Are Ever So Clean by Blossom Toes (1967)

Having long read about We Are Ever So Clean, a real cult favorite of British psychedelia, I was a bit disappointed on first listen. “When the Alarm Clock Rings”, which concludes Rhino’s Nuggets II box set, was all I knew from Blossom Toes prior to hearing their only LP, so I was a bit taken off guard by how thoroughly daffy, and often cacophonous, it is. I’m glad I gave the record a number of additional spins. Now it sounds perfectly conceived, and that includes the more insane tracks, such as the borderline grating “The Remarkable Saga of the Frozen Dog” and “Look at Me I’m You”, which sounds like William Burroughs diced up the master tapes of Revolver, and reassembled them willy nilly. Still, the album’s best songs are its most straightforward. There’s the rousing “When the Alarm Clock Rings”, “I’ll Be Late For Tea”, a marvelous Kinks pastiche that fuses that band’s early heaviness with their mid-‘60s pastoralism, the groovy “Telegram Tuesday”, “What’s It For”, with its chugging cellos, and the Move-esque “I Will Bring You This and That”. Definitely the psychedelic find of the year.

2. Pandemonium Shadow Show by Harry Nilsson (1967)

I probably wouldn’t have given Harry Nilsson his fair shake if my friend and occasional collaborator Jeffrey Dinsmore hadn’t insisted I do so. I like “Everybody’s Talkin’” and “Coconut” (more because it was used to great effect at the end of Reservoir Dogs than anything else) well enough, but “Daddy’s Song” and “Cuddly Toy” are not among my favorite Monkees songs and “Without You” makes me barf. Because Jeffrey was a former Nilsson skeptic, himself, I agreed to check out Pandemonium Shadow Show. This is a terrific vaudeville record, much closer in spirit to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band than a lot of records to which The Beatles’ album are often compared. Really, the predominant sound of Pepper’s is not psychedelia but old-timey music hall, so Pandemonium Shadow Show sounds much more Peppery than, say, Their Satanic Majesties Request. And not only did the Fabs inspire Nilsson, but he pays direct tribute to them when he covers “She’s Leaving Home” and cheekily mangles a variety of their songs in the hilarious mishmash “You Can’t Do That”. “River Deep, Mountain High” has been covered by too many people who aren’t Tina Turner, Nilsson’s version of “Cuddly Toy” is just marginally better than The Monkees’, and “Ten Little Indians” was neither a good song in the hands of its creator or The Yardbirds, who recorded the most famous rendition during their Jimmy Page period. The rest of the album is phenomenal though. “Sleep Late, My Lady Friend” is the lullaby Bacharach and David always wanted to write. Gil Garfield and Perry Botkin’s show-tuney “There Will Never Be” is an instant standard. Sparsely arranged with cello, bass, and flute, “Without Her” is a haunting melding of baroque and jazz balladry. The masterpiece of this collection is “1941”, an elegiac lament about Nilsson’s abandonment by his father (a recurring theme in his work that did not prevent him from pulling the same shit on his own first born). The album’s ultimate endorsement is that it won Nilsson a quartet of Liverpudlian super-fans, three of whom personally called him to tell him how much they loved his latest record.

3. The Natch’l Blues by Taj Mahal (1968)

Taj Mahal’s invigoratingly sloppy performance of “Ain’t That a Lot of Love” is my favorite non-Who, non-Stones moment in “The Rolling Stones Rock & Roll Circus”. That track, which takes The Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin’” and dunks it in six-feet of Mississippi mud, concludes but is not really representative of The Natch’l Blues, which is more rustic blues than Stax Soul. I mean, duh, “blues” is in the album title and all. Taj’s blues is nitty gritty, stripped down to dobro, bass, drums, barrelhouse piano, and the man’s gravel voice, yet as fresh as daybreak. That is pretty unusual for 1968, a year that started with Dylan spouting garbled apocalyptic biblical prophecies on the similarly acoustic John Wesley Harding and ended with The Stones claiming the world for Satan on their own down-home Beggars Banquet. Much truer to the original intent of the blues, Taj Mahal uses it to get outside his blues, and “Good Morning Miss Brown”, “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Steal My Jellyroll”, the epic “Done Change My Way of Living”, and the standard “Corrina” are as uplifting as they are genuine.

4. Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde by The Byrds (1969)

The Byrds’ post-Sweetheart of the Rodeo material gets a bum rap, and in all truth, it isn’t the most essential stuff in the universe. But a Byrds fan such as myself has no excuse for avoiding it for as long as I did, and there are still great songs on later day records, such as The Ballad of Easy Rider and (Untitled). In my opinion, the most consistent of these is the LP that immediately followed Sweetheart. Its title underscores the schizophrenia that would plague The Byrds for the rest of their career. Were they still purveyors of jangly psych and folk-rock or had Sweetheart of the Rodeo forever recreated them as a rustic bluegrass combo? As jarring as that dual nature makes Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde, the songs are very good for the most part. The two numbers McGuinn wrote for the Candy soundtrack are as dated and disposable as that movie, but “Old Blue”, “Your Gentle Way of Loving Me”, and the shit-kickin’ satire “Drug Store Truck Drivin’ Man” are country tracks worthy of Sweetheart of the Rodeo. “King Apathy II” and “Bad Night at the Whiskey” are good rockers, and “This Wheel’s On Fire” is a Dylan cover that gets the job done even if it isn’t nearly up to the standard of “My Back Pages” or “Mr. Tambourine Man”. Dr. Byrds and Mr. Hyde is second rate Byrds, but I’d still rather listen to it than Turn! Turn! Turn!.

5. Four Sail by Love (1969)

Like The Byrds, Love is a band that released a string of albums rightfully regarded as classics, underwent major line-up changes, and never fully lived up to their earlier promise again. That doesn’t mean they became bad, though. Four Sail may not be a masterpiece on the level of Love’s first three masterpieces, but it’s still a pretty great record. Love’s fourth album generally gets written off as an unimaginative foray into hard rock, but the album is a lot more varied and creative than that. There is a winding, elliptical flavor to a lot of these songs, but none are directionless. “August” is a fabulous opener with astounding rhythm guitar work. “Robert Montgomery” is another fuzzy rocker that follows a mercurial path. “Your Friend and Mine—Neil’s Song” could pass for the Lovin’ Spoonful and “I’m With You” sounds like electrified Forever Changes. “Always See Your Face” doesn’t boast the poeticism of “You Make the Scene”, but it’s still an anthemic finale. Really, there isn’t a subpar song in the bunch. Four Sail is not the first Love album you should check out, but it should definitely be the fourth, even if you’re as late in hearing it as I was.

6. Richard Twice by Richard Twice (1969)

I first read about Richard Twice in a miniscule blurb in Mojo magazine a couple of years ago. The only valuable information I gleaned from the piece is that Richard Twice is a duo consisting of two cats named Richard and that their sole LP record might be something I’d want to check out. I finally did this year, and Richard Twice is an excellent light psychedelic folk album with (as a bit more research revealed) backing from members of The Kingsmen, Simon & Garfunkel’s band, Poco, and Paul Revere and the Raiders. The Richards harmonize in a pleasingly shrill manner reminiscent of The Smoke or The Searchers. Their songs zip all over popville, taking off with a rolling groove (“Generation ‘70”), zooming on with a vaguely Latin, vaguely Donald Fagen-esque electric piano jaunt (“My Love Bathes in Silence”), resting long enough to pinch the horn line from “God Only Knows” while paying tribute to The Left Banke (“1:25 A.M.), approaching Nick Drake’s grim folk but stopping short of his doomy lyricism (“God Give Me Strength”), soaring into chunky brass territory (“What Makes Me Love You Like I Do”), moving upward and onward. Richard Twice is a minor baroque masterpiece, as mysterious as the guys who made it.

7. The Marble Index Nico (1969)

Of all the albums on this list, the one I’m most reluctant to recommend is Nico’s The Marble Index, yet with the exception of the next album on this list, it’s the one I’ve listened to most. Those who love Nico’s pretty, baroque-folk debut Chelsea Girl will be shocked to hear her eject melody almost completely and sink into a Gothic, horror-scape of wheezing harmonium (the instrument on which she composed the album’s seven vocal tracks) and a clattering rogue’s gallery of classical and rock instruments all overdubbed by producer and former Velvet Underground bandmate John Cale. Listening to this album is a harrowing experience. When people usually use that phrase to describe music, they’re indulging in hyperbole and cliché, but it truly applies to The Marble Index. Listening to it all the way through makes me physically anxious, like I’ve been given a heavy dose of nasty medicine. Apparently the album’s nominal producer (Cale is only credited as arranger) decided to snip a couple of songs off the record because he figured listeners would start killing themselves if they had to hear to more than a half hour of this stuff. Yet there are some incredibly beautiful things in here too. Nico’s lyrics tend toward medieval despair and Poe-like creepiness, but “Ari’s Song” is a sweet lullaby to her son, albeit one sung over a disorienting backing track pierced with something that sounds like steam escaping from the valves of a pipe organ. The strings and vocal “No One Is There” has a stately grace, and Nico’s multi-tracked wails toward the end of the track are exquisite. “Julius Caesar (Memento Hodie)” enchants with its woozy duet of viola and harmonium. “Frozen Warnings”, the artist’s personal favorite of her own songs, is as icy as its title suggests, yet also ethereal, haunting. But “Lawns of Dawns”, “Facing the Wind”, and especially, “Evening of Light” are flat-out terrifying. Listen to it on the most overcast day in the most forebodingly empty landscape. You’ll crap your pants.

8. Fear by John Cale (1974)

By far my greatest discovery of the year is that John Cale made some of the most incredibly crafted and daring singer-songwriter records of the ‘70s. His most polished of these, Paris 1919, and the one on which he really started folding his avant garde past back into his contemporary work, Slow Dazzle, could easily have found places on this list, but I wanted to limit each artist to a single disc. It took me a fraction of an instant to settle on Fear, which as I indicated above, is the record I’ve spun more than any other in 2010. It commences with “Fear Is a Man’s Best Friend”, which starts off as a piano-based pop song before climaxing with frenzied bass noise and paranoid primal shrieks. It’s exhilarating, scary, and a sharp contrast to the deliberate, choral beauty of “Buffalo Ballet”, which follows. A reggae rhythm lays the groundwork of “Barracuda”, but Cale provides the hooks with his mumbled melody, circusy organ fills, and screechy viola solo. “Emily” is an expansive, gorgeous ballad, and —like “Buffalo Ballet”, “Barracuda”, and the soulful “You Know More Than I Know”— makes very tasteful use of gospel backing singers (a real rarity in the mid-‘70s!). The sparkling arrangement of “Ships of Fools” conceals a creepily Gothic lyric. The stomping “Gun” is an epic, sweaty-palmed tale of a criminal on the run. The sweet sounding but satirical “The Man Who Couldn’t Afford to Orgy” reveals Cale’s love of Brian Wilson (who he pays more explicit tribute to on “Mr. Wilson” from Slow Dazzle). Lou Reed got all the press with his solo career, but I’ve never heard him do anything as accomplished or as eclectic as Fear post-Velvets.

9. Some People are on the Pitch They Think It’s All Over It Is Now by The Dentists (1985)

The Dentist’s dreamy “Strawberries are Growing in My Garden (And It’s Wintertime)” was one of my favorite discoveries on Rhino’s 2005 Children of Nuggets. Really, nearly any track on their first long player would have been almost as worthy of inclusion on that box set of neo-psychedelia and garage rock, from the barn burners ( “Tony Bastable v. John Noakes”, “I Had an Excellent Dream”, and “Back to the Grave”) to the lovely ballads (“Mary Won’t You Come Out and Play”, “Kinder Still”) to the moody, churning pop numbers that fall between (“Flowers Around Me”, “I’m Not the Devil”, “You Make Me Say It Somehow”). Some People are on the Pitch They Think It’s All Over It Is Now is a nonstop knockout of jangly guitars, more flavored by The Byrds and Beau Brummels circa ’66 than the psychier ’67-sounds of the “Strawberries are Growing…” single. Yet it also clearly sounds like a product of the ‘80s paisley underground scene that spawned similar groups such as The Three O’Clock and The Long Ryders, even though the South East England-based Dentists were a long way from the LA-based paisley groups. And unlike a lot of the paisleys, The Dentists are not betrayed by anachronistically slick production. Some People are on the Pitch They Think It’s All Over It Is Now really sounds as though it could have been recorded two decades earlier than its release with its organically flat drum sounds and biting, twelve-string guitars.

10. Pleased to Meet Me by The Replacements (1987)

Pleased to Meet Me is the album I was most embarrassed to include on this list because I should have already been listening to it for 23 years. There wasn’t much else happening in ’87 that was this raw, this alive, even though the record does suffer a bit from antiseptic ‘80s production. The Replacements fight against that slickness like rabid pit bulls on the opening cut, “I.O.U.”, but when they give in on “Alex Chilton”, they manage a genuine ‘80s power-pop classic worthy of its namesake rather than the embarrassing sellout it might have been. The Replacements can’t even be sunk by the brass on “I Don’t Know” because they overpower the grungy sax with their drunkenly garbled backing vocals and herky-jerky rhythms. One might be a bit skeptical of the lounge jazz of “Nightclub Jitters” if it wasn’t so clearly a parody and so clearly a well-conceived little number that contributes to the anything-and-everything vibe of Pleased to Meet Me. The ‘Mats then storm through cranky, R.E.M.-style jangle pop (“The Ledge”), Stonesy Rock & Roll (“Valentine”), sleazy cock rock (“Shooting Dirty Pool”), lovely folk rock (“Skyway”), and yet another ‘80s classic only to be found left of the dial (“Can’t Hardly Wait”) before slumping out the door. My only regret is that I hadn’t met Pleased to Meet Me sooner.

Dammit! Let me buy my apples in peace!

Well, we need something, to keep with this nice stream of traffic we've been generating lately. So I propose a list of songs that get in our heads in certain situations. For example:

- Every time I buy an apple at the farmer's market, I get Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi" in my head. ("Give me spots on apples/but leave me the birds and the bees.")
- There's a Fountains of Wayne song called "Seatbacks and Traytables Up" that cycles through my head whenever I'm on a plane.

That is a short list. Anyone else?

(Editor's note: As the end of the year approaches, the Awkward contributors have been hard at work putting together their end of the year lists. In today's installment, Honor offers some helpful advice on managing your New Year's resolutions. Enjoy our other lists here.)

1. Improve Your Relationships
Trust me, I used to work above a place in Beverly Hills called Dr. TATTOFF: Wait until after the paternity test results come in to get that tattoo. Ballpoint pens have blue ink for a reason.

2. Exercise More
Medical fact: you burn calories by breathing, digesting food and excreting waste. Save exercise for when you're dead and these methods are no longer an option.

3. Lose Weight
Go to the Griffith Park Observatory or a similar institution near you. Find the scale that measures your weight on Jupiter. Step on, step off. You just lost 200 pounds!

4. Quit Smoking
New Year's resolutions are like fortune cookies. So I recommend you proceed slowly, moving the ashtray six inches further from your side of the bed each night until you're sleeping on the welcome mat. You can still have sex out there.

5. Enjoy Life More . . . In Bed
See, I told you.

6. Cut Back on Your Drinking
Make it fun! There are many games you can play to cut back on your drinking like "don't finish the six pack until the company leaves" and "I'll be the designated driver next time." Or simply reduce the number of hours you spend drinking each day. You'll be amazed how much you can gulp down when the clock's ticking - and you'll sleep great!

7. Save Money
Imitate your rich friends and refuse to split the dinner bill down the middle. Say you're too broke to go out whenever anyone suggests a movie you don't want to see. Never tip a valet more than one dollar and bake cookies for your doorman at Christmas.

8. Be More Politically Active
Sorry, you voted for Obama way back in 2008. But it's not too late to ease your liberal guilt for 2009 - just flip over the copies of Going Rogue at the airport bookstore this week. Plan ahead for 2010 by taping a can opener under the shelf of stewed tomatoes at your local Costco. Sarah Palin's book tour may be over, but Dubya's memoir will be hitting big box retailers soon!

9. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle
Wear one of those "Ask Me About My Abortion" t-shirts. When someone does, explain that you are a staunch believer in population control. Now they won't judge you for driving that free Hummer you found on Craigslist.

10. Help Others
To quote the late, great Michael Jackson: "Be the change you want to see in the world." So stop chewing with your mouth open. Thanks.

Happy 2010, everyone!

When Jeffrey asked me to come up with some sort of “Best of 2009” list for Awkward, I told him, “Listen, Hot Lips: I’m an old, crotchety douche bag who lives solely in the past… and not even my past! I’m talking about the past of some stinky old hippie who got beaten with pool cues at Altamont! I haven’t seen ten movies in 2009 worthy of recommendation. I read maybe three books that were published this year, only one of which didn’t give me the dry heaves. Albums? Do they even make those anymore? Yes, Jeffrey, I recommend you take your ‘Best of 2009’ project and stuff it into your tear ducts, because I bet that would hurt like a mother.”

When Jeffrey stopped sobbing, he said, “Pretty please.” Now, I’m not made of stone, so I told him I’d toss him a piece I was already posting on my own site: the award-winning* Psychobabble. He said, “Whatever.” So, here’s The Fifteen Best Old Albums That Were New to Me in 2009. Enjoy!

*Awards may be self-administered.

15. I’ve Got My Own Album to Do by Ron Wood (1974)

On the cusp of the collapse of The Faces and his recruitment into the Rolling Stones’ ranks, Ron Wood went into the studio with a few buddies and a few bottles and cut a characteristically sloppy solo record. Surprisingly, I’ve Got My Own Album to Do wound up being more than a bundle of drunken jams. “Am I Grooving You” may be a dumb lyric slapped onto a lazy guitar lick and “Crotch Music” may marry a dumb title with dated jazz-rock fusion, but there are a surprising number of quality songs on this record. Wood duets with future fuehrer Mick Jagger on “I Can Feel the Fire”, getting the record off to a rousing start (although it would turn into an even fierier item during live performances with The Faces), but the ballads may provide the most memorable moments of I’ve Got My Own Album to Do. “Far East Man”, co-written with George Harrison, is gorgeously reeling, and “Mystifies Me”, on which Wood goes pipe to ravaged pipe with Rod Stewart, is a lovely, ragged, countrified love song. Stewart also steps in to give a little boost to the Chuck Berry-esque rocker “Take a Look at the Guy” and mask Wood’s drunkenly tuneless delivery of “If You Gotta Make a Fool of Somebody”, but this remains Wood’s show all the way through.

“Far East Man”

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14. I Want Candy by The Strangeloves (1965)

If scientists were capable of distilling a beer-drenched party down to its essence, melting it like wax, and refashioning it into 33 1/3 revolutions of Rock & Roll revelry, the results would probably sound a lot like I Want Candy. We all know the stomping title tune (though more may know it via Bow Wow Wow’s icy ‘80s remake than the hot-blooded original), and if that’s your cup of malt liquor, you won’t be disappointed by the rest of this record. With the exception of one token ballad (which doesn’t even make it to the two-minute mark), there isn’t a moment of respite as The Strangeloves bash out their tribal beats on originals like “Cara-Lin”, “No Jive”, and the garage-tastic “Night Time” (which scored a spot on Lenny Kaye’s original Nuggets). They deliver equally electrifying covers of “Hang On Sloopy”, “New Orleans”, “Willie and the Hand Jive”, and “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”, which adds on the beefy horn section Keith Richards always wished for that song. Turn it up loud and do some keg stands.

“Cara-Lin”

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13. You Baby/Let Me Be by The Turtles (1966)

Everyone already knows about the backlash against Bob Dylan when he made his transformation from topical folkie to absurdist Rocker (queue squeals of “Judas!”). Far less legendary is the similar path The Turtles took at the beginning of their career. Yup, believe it or not, the group best known for creating knowingly schlocky ditties like “Happy Together” and “Elenore” once had a following of serious folk fans, who gravitated to the band after it scored a hit with Dylan’s “It Ain’t Me Babe” and covered protest songs like P.F. Sloan’s apocalyptic “Eve of Destruction”. When The Turtles tackled Sloan’s “You Baby”, a wad of bubblegum thick enough to clog the works of Big Ben, the folkies’ screeched their standard declarations of betrayal and headed for the exit. Thus The Turtles were left to develop into the hit-making machine we know and love today, but the shift was not a sudden one. Their second album You Baby/Let Me Be, is just about as striking a transitional album as there is, right down to its title, which name-checks the last of their folk-rock hits and the wonderfully poppy piffle that gave them their second wind. The rest of the album is no less schizo, trading off sardonic rallying-cries like the conga line-inspiring “Down in Suburbia” (“Nobody’s ever un-American in suburbia / Everybody has a list of negros, Jews, and communists, and checks it off before their daughter marries…”) and the bluesy “Pall Bearing, Ball Bearing World” with frivolous, frantic blasts of garage rock like “Flyin’ High” (which features one of Al Nichol’s hottest guitar riffs) and “Almost There”, and the pure pop of “You Baby”, “I Know You’ll Be There”, and “Just a Room”. Regardless of what The Turtles attempt on You Baby/It Ain’t Me Babe, they invariably get it right with their impeccable harmonies and tough backbeat, not to mention the guys’ budding songwriting skills.

“Flyin’ High”

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12. Montage by Montage (1969)

Keyboardist/composer Michael Brown had been the mastermind behind The Left Banke, the enchanting baroque-pop quintet responsible for “Walk Away Renee”. When Brown wanted to retire from touring to take a more Brian Wilson-like studio role, the rest of the band balked and went their separate way (they also wanted to distance themselves from Brown’s father, who was trying to step in as the group’s manager). Brown barely paused before glomming onto a band called Montage and working his magic on their sole album. Arranging the vocals, providing his trademark elegant piano work, and co-writing all but one track, Brown essentially turned Montage into a Left Banke album. In fact, many regard it as a more worthy successor to the Banke’s classic debut, Walk Away Renee/Pretty Ballerina, than their proper second album. Personally, I think this is unfair to the highly underrated Left Banke Too, which includes the definitive version of “Desiree”, but Montage is, indeed, a fine album that sounds very much like a Left Banke record. Singer Vance Chapman is even a ringer for The Left Banke’s Steve Martin. There are a couple of weak moments among the album’s brief 25 minutes: “An Audience with Miss Pricilla Gray” is a music hall jaunt out of step with an otherwise moody collection of songs and “Men are Building Sand” has Chapman singing sour notes because Brown misguidedly wanted to create some disharmony to reflect the song’s anti-deforestation message. Otherwise, this is a superb record that may not be The Left Banke album that never was, but will surely appeal to anyone who digs that group.

“I Shall Call Her Mary”

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11. Radios Appear by Radio Birdman (1977)

Radios Appear is considered one of the best Australian Rock albums ever made, but I’d never even heard of Radio Birdman until reading Clinton Heylin’s Babylon’s Burning recently. I may be arriving late to the party, but I’m glad my invite didn’t get permanently lost in the mail, because Radios Appear is one goddamn exciting Punk record. The lyrics are all shouted in unison not unlike those on the Strangeloves album a few notches up on this list. The rhythms are equally manic with odd exceptions, such as the smoldering Doors-homage “Man with Golden Helmet”. Apparently, the version of Radios Appear I got my hands on is a 1995 reissue that juggles and embellishes on the original track listing, but as the reissue adds amazing tracks like the “Hawaii 5-0”-quoting “Aloha Steve & Danno” and the dark, delirious frenzy of “Non-Stop Girls”, I’d feel remiss in recommending you hunt down the record as it was initially intended.

“Non-Stop Girls”

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10. Hyaena by Siouxsie and the Banshees (1984)

On their fifth album, the tremendous A Kiss in the Dream House, Siouxsie and the Banshees finalized their transition from the strident fury of their first records to the frosty Goth-pop that remained their bread and butter for the remainder of their career. Record number six, Hyaena, is another masterstroke of cool melody and brittle production (which compliments Siouxsie’s sound more than practically any other ‘80s artist). The two singles are among the band’s best: “Dazzle”, with its Walt Disney orchestrations and galloping beat, and the spooky, surrealist “Swimming Horses”. The poppiest moment on Hyaena didn’t make it to the radio, although I like to believe that “Belladonna” was an inescapable smash in some parallel universe. Less commercial but more evocative are the jittery “We Hunger”, the controlled burn of “Take Me Back”, and the spaghetti-western atmospherics of “Bring Me the Head of the Preacher Man”, while “Running Town” rocks out to a tortured guitar riff. Music to play the next time you find yourself in the Arctic with nothing but a tab of acid.

“Belladonna”

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9. Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells (1968)

Tommy James and the Shondells’ whole-hog plunge into psychedelia was one of the weirder moments in ‘60s Rock, yet it’s a pretty short leap from the utter nonsense of “My baby does the hanky panky” to the utter nonsense of “Crimson and clover, over and over.” By jettisoning the faux intellectualism that defined so much psych, the group frees themselves up so they can just get down to cranking up crazy sounds and hooks as candy-sweet as any of their earlier bubblegum hits. The title track is a monument of inspired insipidness and one of the greatest singles of the ‘60s, with its mind-melting tremeloed backing vocals and warped wah-wah guitars. The shimmering amphetamine-exultation “Crystal Blue Persuasion” and “Sugar On Sunday” were memorable singles as well, although the party-anthem throwback “Do Something to Me” sounds slightly out of place here (it’s still a pretty exciting track, though). The album-only cuts are nearly as good as the hits: “Kathleen McArthur” is a pretty psychedelic ballad, “Breakaway” a hard-driving chunk of funk, and “Smokey Road” is swoony pop-soul. But the real undiscovered gem is a glorious explosion of acid-steeped insanity on which James finally reveals his true self: “Hello, banana, I am a tangerine.” Just what I suspected all along.

“I am a Tangerine”

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8. Unhalfbricking by Fairport Convention (1969)

Unhalfbricking did not hit me as immediately as Fairport Convention’s subsequent album, Liege & Lief, but its rewards were worth the slight effort it took to root them out. Unlike Liege, which is nearly conceptual in its reliance on antiquated English folk, Unhalfbricking is a bit of a jumble. There are a couple of quirky covers— “Si Tu Dois Partir” (a Cajun-flavored, French language version of Dylan’s “If You Gotta Go, Go Now”) and an amorphously alluring rendition of the traditional folk song “Sailor’s Song”— as well as definitive versions of Dylan’s stately “Percy’s Song” and his deliriously rollicking “Million Dollar Bash”. Richard Thompson gets off two good originals with the quietly seething “Genesis Hall” and “Cajun Woman”, a scorching slab of Rock & Roll, but it’s Sandy Denny who supplies the classics. Her “Autopsy” pointedly recounts the death of a relationship while see-sawing between swirling waltz passages and a standard-time shuffle. The defiantly Zen “Who Knows Where the Time Goes” became a modern folk standard covered by artists ranging from Judy Collins to Nina Simone to Cat Power. No matter what the Convention attempts, it’s all buoyed by Denny’s powerful voice, Thompson’s sassy guitar licks, and a hardworking rhythm section. Unhalfbricking may take a mercurial path, but it’s one worth following.

“Million Dollar Bash”

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7. Once Upon a Dream by The Rascals (1968)

Following the Sgt. Pepper’s phenomenon, every band in late ‘67/early ’68 was expected to whip up their own psychedelic freak-fest. To The Rascals’ credit, they did not sacrifice their blue-eyed-soul strengths for over-reaching artiness even as Once Upon a Dream expands their sound with the usual post-Pepper trappings (weird sound effects, tape experiments, orchestrations, sitars, trippy segues). While this was The Rascals’ first album to lack major hits (the groovy “It’s Wonderful” barely poked its head into the top twenty), it hangs together as a complete listening experience better than any of their earlier records even though it’s their most eclectic release yet. There’s a little rustic blues (“Easy Rollin’”), a little urban blues (“Singing’ the Blues Too Long”), a little New Orleans soul (“I’m Gonna Love You”), a little snaky Rock & Roll with jazz aspirations (“Please Love Me”), a lot of Brian Wilson-style orchestral grandeur (“Rainy Day”; “My Hawaii”, the title track), and a rare raga rocker that actually delivers the raga and the Rock in equal proportions (“Bells/Sattva”). These disparate elements all add up to a minor masterpiece that should delight fans of the cosmic and the earthbound alike.

“Rainy Day”

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6. Ghosts of Princes in Towers by The Rich Kids (1978)

Only a dope would dispute the importance of The Sex Pistols’ role in establishing Punk as a major force. They were the genre’s poster boys, the one Punk group your Grandpa has heard of. With his spiky hair, permanent grimace, shredded attire, Cockney yowl, and dentally-challenged grin, Johnny Rotten gave the genre a face. Steve Jones suggested Punk’s danger when he told that “fucking rotter” Bill Grundy what he thought of him on live T.V. Sid Vicious proved it when he knifed his girlfriend in the Chelsea Hotel before O.D.ing. All historically significant incidents for sure. Their music, though? Eh. Yes, “Pretty Vacant”, “Anarchy in the UK”, and “God Save the Queen” are all great anthems, but taken together on The Pistols’ only album, they are less interesting. For a genre built on brief, lo-fi, speedily spat-out songs, Punk is not best represented by The Sex Pistols’ long, overly polished, mid-temp recordings, and Never Mind the Bollocks doesn’t pack a level of excitement or memorability to match its looming reputation. Far more interesting— yet far less appreciated— is the band that Glen Matlock formed after he was allegedly kicked out of The Pistols for “liking The Beatles.” As spurious as that story is, The Rich Kids certainly have a greater grasp of melody and variety than The Sex Pistols ever did. I know, I know, punk is not supposed to be about melody or variety, but let’s face it, all the best Punk groups—from The Clash to The Damned to Siouxsie and the Banshees to The Buzzcocks—were melodic and eclectic (let’s call The Ramones “the exception that proves the rule”). Ghosts of Princes in Towers fires blinding bullets like “Cheap Emotions” and “Put You in the Picture” that I find to be much more electrifying—much more Punk— than anything on Bollocks. But it also has moody dirges like “Strange One”, with its twinkling organ line and massive, fuzzed out guitars; heavy Rock like “Hung On You”; and exhilarating power pop like “Young Girl”, “Bullet Proof Lover”, and the magnificent title track, which unashamedly displays Matlock’s love of The Beatles. Most of the reviews you’ll read of Ghosts of Princes in Towers dismiss it. Never mind those bollocks, though. This is the real classic to come out of the Pistols’ camp.

“Ghosts of Princes in Towers”

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5. Suddenly One Summer by JK & Co. (1968)

I discovered this ominous assemblage of funereal psychedelia while perusing Mojo magazine’s “A-Z of U.S. Psych” this past spring. Everything I subsequently read about Suddenly One Summer compared it to All Things Must Pass. As George Harrison’s masterpiece is one of my favorite albums, the comparisons were impetus enough to hunt down JK & Co.’s obscurity. Apparently, the album is so obscure that most of the people who’ve written about it haven’t actually heard it, because it doesn’t sound much like the Harrison record. With its backwards tape-loops, distorted guitars, bleary-eyed lyricism, and lysergic airiness, Suddenly One Summer is far much more psychedelic than All Things Must Pass. The morbidity of this music belies the fact that Jay Kaye was a mere 15-year-old when he wrote and recorded it. Tracks like “Nobody” (in which Kaye moans “My happiness is in a needle”), “Magical Fingers of Minerva”, and “Dead” are chilling. Even the bouncy love ballad “Christine” and the incongruously spry “O.D.” are coated in spooky somberness. Perhaps J.K. and his company of session men were so dour because they sensed Suddenly One Summer would be both their first and final album, but as such, it’s a potent statement.

“Fly”

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4. Power in the Darkness by The Tom Robinson Band (1978)

Tom Robinson was an upper-class kid with a serious identity disorder. His first group was Café Society, a folk trio that by most accounts was pretty terrible, but Robinson’s songs must have indicated his talent enough to charm Kinks-leader Ray Davies. Davies signed Café Society to his newly formed record label, Konk, vowed to produce their debut album, and left the group to twist in the breeze while he pursued projects with The Kinks. Frustrated by Davies’s inattention, Robinson jumped ship, adopted a Cockney accent, discovered punk, came out of the closet, and put together a fierce new band. Mind you, Tom Robinson was a street punk like Mick Jagger was a street fighting man, but there’s still a righteous fury to Power in the Darkness that is every bit as authentic as the most politically charged statements by The Clash (and, lest we forget, Joe Strummer was the son of a foreign-service diplomat...not exactly a gutter upbringing). The rhetoric can be a bit heavy handed, but that does nothing to diminish the excitement of “Up Against the Wall”, “Grey Cortina”, “Aint’ Gonna Take It”, and “The Man You Never Saw”. Robinson’s audacious stance as the first openly gay rocker lends purpose to even his most cliché-riddled cuts. Power in the Darkness is also one of the more eclectic records to emerge in punk’s earliest days. The electric-piano driven “Too Good to Be True” is a moody dollop of blues-rock, “The Winter of ‘79” borrows liberally from Springsteen’s act, and the funky “Better Decide Which Side Your On” pre-dates similar efforts by The Clash by several years. The title track is a dramatic, swaggering anthem that couldn’t sound more removed from the speed-and-spit revolution even as its message will get you raising your fist in the air like the image on the album cover.

“Man You Never Saw”
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3. Move by The Move (1968)

The Move have long been among my favorite British psychedelic groups, but I’ve somehow never plunged into their debut, perhaps because I already knew half of these songs and wasn’t sure if the remaining tracks would provide sufficient revelations. For the uninitiated, the Birmingham quintet delivered childlike, sing-songy tunes with the vivid, pop-art explosiveness of the early Who. The Move released three of the greatest singles of 1967, but was slow to produce their first album. Finally appearing in March of 1968, Move included both sides of their previous two UK hits (“Flowers in the Rain”/ “[Here We Go Round] The Lemon Tree” and “Fire Brigade”/“Walk Upon the Water”), a handful of newly recorded originals, and a triad of covers. The covers range from red hot (a rendition of Eddie Cochran’s “Weekend”) to inessential (a too-faithful version of Moby Grape’s “Hey Grandma”) to bloody awful (the schlock-o-la standard “Zing Went the Strings of My Heart”), but the rest of the new recordings are worthy of sitting alongside the hits. “Yellow Rainbow” and “Useless Information” have all the melodiousness and Mod ferocity of the Move’s best singles. The baroque ballad “Mist on a Monday Morning” may be less electric than the other tracks, but its overwrought arrangement of harpsichords, strings, and woodwinds makes it as spectacularly unsubtle as the rockers. “Cherry Blossom Clinic” mashes such orchestral elements together with electric instruments for a heady, bursting-with-color climax. When The Move began recording albums properly, they veered more into epic-length, indulgent experimentation (their next album, Shazam, features an 8-minute long remake of “Cherry Blossom Clinic” that incorporates a bizarre medley of classical pieces by Dukas, Bach, and Tchaikovsky), leaving the stitched-together Move as one of their few long-players to indicate what a great singles act they were.

“Cherry Blossom Clinic”

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2. The United States of America by The United States of America (1968)

As a psychedelia enthusiast, I should have checked out the one and only album by The United States of America a lot sooner, because this is the most psychedelic album I’ve ever heard. Everything is layered with thick coats of spacey noise and experimental tape loops and filtered through various distortion and phasing effects. With an exotic line-up consisting of violin, synthesizer, harpsichord, calliope, fretless bass, an assortment of percussion, and the ultra-cool voice of Dorothy Moskowitz, The United States of America forgot to add one integral element of all psych—and all Rock— albums: the electric guitar. The complete absence of six-string may be the most radical quality of The United States of America, but like all great psych efforts, the songs are more important than any unconventional instrumentation or swathes of freaky effects. The United States of America is loaded with great numbers that leap into all the various nooks of the psychedelic fun house. There’s floaty, Floydian atmospherics (“The American Metaphysical Circus”, the astonishing “Cloud Song”), free-form freak outs (“Hard Coming Love”, which features a distorted violin every bit as raunchy as Hendrix’s axe), bracing energy rushes (“The Garden of Earthly Delights”), jaunty music-hall goofs (the defiantly weird “I Won’t Leave My Wooden Wife for You, Sugar”), pseudo Gregorian chants (“Where Is Yesterday”), and avant garde epics (“The American Way of Love (Part I-III)”. There is so much to dazzle the ear on The United States of America that it can probably be heard hundreds of times before revealing all of its intricate and outrageous layers. That this stuff remains so hummable makes it all worth while.

“I Won’t Leave My Wooden Wife for You, Sugar”

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1. Cast of Thousands by The Adverts (1979)

Time is very kind to some albums that were initially misunderstood. Cast of Thousands, the record that essentially destroyed The Adverts, is one of these. Released at the tail end of punk’s first wave, fans and critics were baffled by T.V. Smith and the gang’s decision to augment their raw and rough rockers with acoustic guitars, various keyboards, bells, and— weirdest of all—a full choir. Such accoutrements were highly unacceptable to blinkered listeners more concerned with the most restrictive Punk ethos than the kind of unfettered self-expression that set the best bands aside from the most disposable. The rejection of Cast of Thousands meant The Adverts’ sophomore album was their last, which is near tragic considering what a tremendous record it is. The title song, which contains the choir that so appalled former fans, is a magnificent piece of music; as fierce and wild as The Advert’s earlier singles, but epic and majestic as the greatest pop anthems. With T.V. Smith’s feral screams on the outro vamp, “Cast of Thousands” is Punk’s “Hey Jude” and every bit as thrilling as The Beatles’ classic. “The Adverts” is a humorous bit of propaganda (“Pretty soon you’ll be… living like the Adverts. Things could be worse”) set to a driving rhythm augmented by glittering piano runs. The acoustic “My Place” is a beautiful melding of folk-rock and Punk-rock, and “Television’s Over” manages to be brutal even as it’s invaded by a carnivalesque organ and the return of that controversial choir. “I Will Walk You Home” is a dark, dramatic dirge with moody mandolins. Alas, all of this glorious music was tentatively tasted and puked out by Punks in the late ‘70s, but hearing it today reveals a true lost classic. Cast of Thousands deserves to sit alongside The Clash’s London Calling and The Damned’s Machine Gun Etiquette as one of the greatest albums by a Punk band that dared to smash out of the confines of the genre’s primitive dogmatism.

“Cast of Thousands”

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The full length versions of my favorites are after the break.

Kittens Inspired by Kittens

The Gathering of the Juggalos

California Woman Solves It All

Costume Shop Genius