I'll do 4 tonight, and from then on, 2 a day for the top 10. I'm spoiling all of you.
14. (2006) Emilie Autumn – OpheliacThe album everyone was probably anticipating, I suppose. Had I made this last several months earlier, this probably would have been higher than it is. It’s been taken down a few notches, but that doesn’t detract from the awesomeness. Love it or hate it, there’s no questioning that Opheliac is a pretty strange combination of styles—baroque-era classical with excessive indulgence in violins and harpsichords, industrial beats, and angry, loathsome lyrics with the occasional literary allusion. Miss Autumn’s voice on this album is much harsher, angrier, and abrasive than on Enchant, with much of the Celtic and jazz leanings replaced with the aforementioned brand of classical and industrial—“Victoriandustrial” as she describes it. Songs like the title track and Misery Loves Company are frantic and manically devious in their fast, aggressive assault, sometimes bordering on a heavy metal attitude, but with classical instruments instead of guitars. Shalott is mystical and fairy-like, as “Enchant” as the album gets. Swallow is poppy and full in composition, seeming to get the most attention from people who listen to it. The Art of Suicide is a slow, dark, mournful waltz of delicate electronic sparks and EA’s uniquely elegant, high-pitched siren. Opheliac as a whole is a cathartic release of her own repressed emotions that she kept bottled inside of her for many, many years, with each track overwhelmed with emotion and rage at herself and the others around her. It’s absolutely angry girl music, but it works so damn well even when it shouldn’t.
It’s not music for everyone, and my elation with it is not as inflamed as it once was, but if you give it a chance, you Opheliac might just find a worthy spot in your CD collection. For better or worse, there is not much else like it out there, even in the continuously closing gap between classical music and more contemporary forms of music.
Recommended tracks: The Art of Suicide, Misery Loves Company, Shalott
13. (2005) Dredg – Catch Without ArmsThis is surely to catch some people’s attention. Dredg is very popular ‘round these parts, and while the apex of their creativity is (justifiably) debatable, I always come back to Catch Without Arms the most. With gliding, cascading guitars that sound sublimely glazed and glossy, modest electronic dabbles, and Gavin Haye’s amazing high voice, this is simply one of the best blends of experimentations and pop that I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. Songs like Bug Eyes and Planting Seeds are chock-full of delicious melodies and hooks that would sound right at home on the radio, and yet they avoid sounding generic or bland. Sangreal features a groovy piano line with lyrics exploring contradicting lifestyles. Matroshka (The Ornament) is a heartbreaking tale of wasted life and not knowing how to turn everything around.
The production of Catch Without Arms is so perfect and clear, with every note and accent shining as bright as sunshine through your speakers, no matter how shitty those speakers may be. Even at its bleakest and most upsetting moments, Dredg’s music on each song remains compelling and impossible to turn off or take a break from. I’ve given several copies of this album away as gifts, and the reaction has always been “wow, great album!” It could be yours, too.
Recommended tracks: Bug Eyes, Sangreal, Matroshka (The Ornament)
12. (1999) Jill Tracy – Diabolical StreakThis album rocked my world the very first time I heard it, and it still does each time I decide to put it on and just veg out. Jill Tracy’s music is typically given the title “dark cabaret,” but that’s a rather unhelpful label, isn’t it? I’ll try to explain it a tad better: dark, sinister, gothic jazz noir, rich with dark pianos and upright bass straight from a jazz orchestra, with all the evil and bleakness one would expect from a Goth. Tracy’s voice is smoky and seductive, like a demented lounge singer on the thirteenth floor. With song titles like Evil Night Together and The Fine Art of Poisoning, you know there’s some twisted wit and humor prevalent here. Her skills on the piano are impressive and dark, conjuring images of luxurious cabaret shows with a touch of the dark, with the apocalypse going on just outside. Moving shadows and ominous figures lurk in the distance, dancing in unison with the beat of the music.
If you can’t tell by now, Diabolical Streak is an ideal night album. Listening to it at any other time of the day just seems criminal. So light a cigar, pour a glass of your favorite scotch, pop a slow-acting cyanide pill, and let Jill Tracy draw you into her world of corpses, wine, and the occasional song.
Recommended tracks: Evil Night Together, The Fine Art of Poisoning, You Leave Me Cold
11. (2002) Bright Eyes – Lifted, or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the GroundHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA LOLOLOLOLO INDIE GIANT INDIE OMGGGGGGGGG. Now that we’ve got
that out of the way, let’s focus on the actual music.
That’s such a mind-numbingly pretentious title to give an album, isn’t it? What could have possessed Conor Oberst to do that? I don’t know, but it certainly seems to fit this incredibly dense jungle of narrative and musical ideas that are crammed into each and every second of Lifted. Be it the lo-fi folk of The Big Picture, the voyeuristic twinkling of Lover I Don’t Have to Love, the dramatic death march of ominous horns and strings on Don’t Know When But a Day is Gonna Come, or the condemnation of society that is the sprawling 10-minute epic of Let’s not Shit Ourselves (To Love and to be Loved), Lifted has extreme lyrical and musical density that takes its time to reveal its brilliance. Some tracks are stripped down to nothing but Conor and his acoustic guitar, such as the abrasive Waste of Paint, a song that seems directionless at first, but slowly reveals itself as a tightly composed concoction of ideas that are all loosely connected in a bigger picture. Other tracks like Make War and the aforementioned Let’s Not Shit Ourselves are rich with huge country-esque layers that even people who don’t like country can admire. Some lyrics are close examinations of Conor himself, while others put the whole of society under the microscope. The only song with a genuine glimmer of optimism is Bowl of Oranges, a light pop tune of fun piano and upbeat acoustic strumming, but with lyrics no less poetic or heartfelt.
The most remarkable aspect of Conor’s songwriting is most certainly his lyrics, which could be seen as a downfall in their typically oblique structures. But keep your ear to the ground; you might hear something that really speaks to you in the same way I did.
Recommended tracks: Bowl of Oranges, Waste of Paint, Let’s Not Shit Ourselves (To Love and to Be Loved)