In Pop Ramblings’ continuing look at the decade, we turn our ears to the music scene and debate the best album of the Aughts. Offering the counterpoints in this argument is my good friend and music whiz, Jim Ryan.  He’s got the chops folks, but I don’t need to tell you that, you can just read what he wrote. You CAN read right?

JIM: While I may or may not be known as an apologist towards a certain online magazine, I have to say that I don’t bow at the alter of Thom Yorke & Co. as often as they.  To me, and really to all of us, the album that deep down in the heart of American hearts that best sums up, epitomizes, personifies and enlivens the Aughts is none other than Wilco’s 2001 album (or 2002, depending on how you look at it) Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

Where Kid A foreshadowed a dark, alienating new decade where we all somehow were challenged to relish in our digitally reconstructed lives, YHF showed us the real joy in shepherding our ancestral and traditional American roots into the age of bleeps and bloops.  At its heart, the songs on this album could have been (and arguably were) written a hundred times already.  And while that could speak to the dime a dozen nature of the pop-derivative schlock we hear (and love) on the radio nowadays, the way in which this was recorded (and the story of its release) re-contextualized and retro-fitted our homegrown, American folk sensibilities for a new millennium.

The other big draw for me towards this album as the one to define the Aughts is the story of how this album came together.  I, like most folks my age, was a furious Napster-ite when it came out.  I’d spend a couple hours each day downloading the music that was influencing me at the time.  I’ve since changed my ways, but there really is no better argument for the success of file sharing than this album.  Rejected by its label, leaked to the internet to receive great acclaim and simply incredible amounts of hype, only to be re-signed by a subsidiary of the same record company and ultimately to go gold within two years of its release.  For many people, this record would come to encapsulate two of the dominant themes of the decade, namely our grappling with new technology and social media and our stark confrontations with mortality brought about by terrorist attacks, foreign wars and natural disasters.  Beyond that, it also has the ability to reach out and touch the basic things that hold us to music like tough relationships, our grip on reality, and our own personal demons.  Truly there is something for everybody in this record, no slight statement in the age of the vicious internet opinion machine, and that fact along more than warrants its inclusion in this discussion.

SETH:When it comes to music, I’m the kinda person who likes to listen to things A LOT. I’ve had to train myself to pull back on albums as I get them so I don’t wear them out. Throughout this decade there have been several albums that I’ve never had to worry about that with, Band of Horses’ debut Everything All the Time, Grizzly Bear’s Yellow House, The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America, Field Music’s Tones of Town, and Fleet Foxes’ self titled debut to name a few.  Obviously, my nomination for album of the decade also falls into this category and that album is Arcade Fire’s Funeral.  Funeral is not an album to be trifled with, its melodies, instrumentation, and content are at times HEAVY. I mean hello, the name of the album is Funeral. It doesn’t exactly scream “Superhappyfuntimes bonanzextravaganza!” But that’s the beautiful thing about this album, it shows death not as the sad thing it is, but as a time to rejoice in life.  Oh yeah and it sounds AMAZING.  You try that.

Main Arguments:
JIM: The album kicks off with what has become Wilco’s signature tune “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”, and really everything that can be said about this album is summarized in this song.  Frontman Jeff Tweedy probably wrote this song while doodling in his living room with a kid screaming in his ear.  It comprises itself of three chords and the sort of shambling melody you sing to yourself in the shower or on the john.  Yet, brought to life on this record with its off-kilter drumming, disorienting noise and plaintive keyboard, you can’t help but find yourself believing that “Yes, I am an American aquarium drinker” and “Yes, I do assassin down avenues”.  Not to mention that the song’s intro and outro feature foreshadow-y bits of songs that appear later in the album (a trick repeated on “Ashes of American Flags” and “Poor Places”), thus making it the glue that ties the rest of the album together at the same time demanding that the record be listened to more than once so that sense can be made of all this.

Through the first half of the album (through “Kamera”, “Radio Cure” and “War on War”), Tweedy’s voice croaks and strains, and is complemented by similarly uneasy arrangements – mostly courtesy of the brilliant, troubled and now-deceased Jay Bennett.  If there is a theme to this part of the record it is probably related to the subtle bliss we can find in our more uncomfortable (“I am Trying to Break Your Heart”), disparaged (“Radio Cure”) or self-righteous (“War on War”) moments. A tough nut to crack indeed.  Even in moments in this part of the album that might lay it on a little thick (“It’s a war on war/you gotta lose/you gotta learn how to die/if you wanna wanna be alive”), the musical context shifts and bumps our brains so that we can submit to the real emotions and sentiments that the songs is trying to get across.

But, oh, the second half is where we really see the gold in this album.  It starts with “Jesus, Etc.” –  a song penned before 9-11 that eerily evokes similar imagery and emotion.  I can’t think of a song that serves as a better catharsis for such an awful, tragic, defining event as this song.  Though those tall buildings shake and the songs are all sad, “Our love is all of God’s money/Everyone is a burning sun”.  Sure, the shuffling beat and understated tone don’t exactly evoke the mania that we might expect from such a statement, but does it need to?  Wilco are masters when it comes to painting understated pictures of overstated ideals and themes.

Following the eerie, post-9/11 hangover vibe comes “Ashes of American Flags”.  Where the previous track helped us cope with the cosmos, this song provides an avenue to relate personal loss with national tragedy.  In fact, the song is inspired not by 9-11 (again, because it was written more than a year before its release), but by World War II, which Tweedy was supposedly boning up on before they hit the studio.  Both events though provide a novel context to look at this song because as the salutes in this song are not only to the golden era of America and our ‘Greatest Generation’ but also to “All the fallen leaves/filling up shopping bags” that represent the autumn of American power — a tough concept that every American has come face to face with this decade.  It’s a struggle to believe this, and Tweedy’s croak gets it across when he sings “My lies are always wishes/I know I would die if I could come back new”.

This dour suite is then complimented by some of the peppiest music Wilco has ever recorded.  After the downers of “Jesus Etc” and “Ashes” comes “Heavy Metal Drummer”.  Is there a better way to forget the bad times than to remember the good ones?  Maybe, but this is certainly the most common.  Wilco has often been (rightly) derided as too nostalgia heavy, but its on this song where we realize what a powerful thing nostalgia can be.  The next three songs follow suit with the first three, similar in design if different in theme.  “I’m the Man Who Loves You”, “Pot Kettle Black” and “Poor Places” are all very simple folk tunes beefed up by in-studio wizardry, horn sections and sampled loops that at times evoke the Beatles White Album and at times Harvest Moon era Neil Young, even within the same tune.

SETH: Funeral as I have already mentioned deals with a topic that is absolutely universal but manages to deal with the content in a wholly unexpected way, it certainly looks at the pain and anguish and the like. With this album Arcade Fire, show the warmer side of dealing with death as well. A perfect example of this is the suite of songs titled “Neighborhood 1-4.”  These songs are built around a fictional neighborhood and really play into the idea of the community’s role in dealing with something as daunting as a death.  This “suite” I’ll call it serves a clever dual purpose, first it forms the backbone of the album sonically- the songs vary in musicality which sets you up for the roller coaster of the rest of the album, but they lyrically speak to the community as a backbone as well. By this I mean they convey the message that reliance on your personal community, your family, your friends (for Arcade Fire, your band) is paramount to the grieving process and can help in the mission to celebrate the dearly departed rather than mourn them.

Musically, you’ll have trouble finding a band which brings more beauty to the table.  And what’s so beautiful about them is the sheer power of music they produce. Arcade Fire can put force into their songs like few acts can for two reasons, they are a huge band and the play a ridiculous amount of instruments, I’ve seen a live video where they used a phone book as an instrument. Ridiculous, but fun. Their numbers and musicianship make for some strong hooks, beats, and melodies; they also lend to the variety of song that is played on the album. There are straight-up rock tracks (“Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)”), there are swooping ballads (“Crown of Love”), all the way to the operatic (“Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)”).  Funeral is musically engaging on a level that few bands have been able to reach over the last decade and its engaging to anyone who likes music. I defy you to find a low point.  I defy you to listen to the album A-Z and get bored. And finally, there’s this: Arcade Fire don’t sound like anyone else. Sure you can hear influences but this album evokes such rock and roll beauty and grandiosity that when I heard it and to this day I can’t really classify what it is. It’s like this pop rocking symphony and it’s always accessible. It’s a strange feeling of similar unfamiliarity, like you’ve heard songs rock like this, but not in this way. Clearly what I’m saying is not making sense, because I can’t adequately decipher what makes them so unique. There are certainly other acts that use instruments like those used in Arcade Fire.  I guess the best way to put it is that their sum equals something previously unrivaled. Their restraint and force move you in a way I’ve never felt before. Truly unique.

Emotion is underrated. For real. I think the Aughts have been oddly rollercoasteristic for me. I’ve had some epic highs and some seemingly bottomless lows, but in the end it’s all been a heck of ride. And Funeral takes that ride as well, it plays with youthful exuberance and feelings of love punctuated in “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)” with the epic line “I hear you sing a golden hymn, the song I’ve been trying to sing.” I’ve felt that way, like YOU GET ME. It’s the best!  They touch on fear and alienation in modern times (HELLO HAVE YOU SEEN THE ECONOMY?!) in “Neighborhood #3 (Power Out).” Again I’ll let the lead singer/songwriter Win Butler show how “and the power’s out, in the heart of man.” Ouch, but true!? I love it. And finally he gets us fired up to take a stand and live life and not worry about death with “Rebellion (Lies)” with one of my all time favorite lyrics ever, “Sleeping is giving in.” I’m getting pumped just singing it to myself right now. The bottom line is Arcade Fire put together one of the most fantastically diverse albums which still form a cohesive, emotional and forceful whole of the Aughts and in my opinion, it’s the best one. There are certainly albums I’ve listened to more, but none that immediately evoked such strong sentiment and reveled not in the morose aspects of death, but in the joyous aspects of a life lived. Like on the masterpiece of the album, “Wake Up.”

SETH: Wow, YHF is a stellar, haunting album. And in fact, I think these two albums will be in the Top 5 of pretty much every “Best of the Decade” list. So what we’re arguing here is not that one is good and the other is bad, just that one is the BEST and the other not quite as best. Well it’s really difficult me to argue against such an epic piece of not only music but at this point its legacy is to the point of being a piece of Americana. But argue I will. And here’s my main bone to pick with YHF. I can put that album on and listen to it all the way through, but I’ve probably only done that twice, maybe three times tops. I LOVE 5 songs on that album, but it’s challenging to listen to in a way that I don’t think Arcade Fire is. And one of the things that I consider when picking the BEST of something is its replay value. YHF doesn’t have that as a whole for me while Funeral does.  Tweedy’s lyrics are EERIE in their 9/11 imagery, I have to agree, but does a coincidence merit praise? It’s like finding a puzzle without a piece and finding another piece from a different puzzle that fits. That doesn’t mean the puzzle is complete. Eerie? Yes. Prescient? Yes. Praiseworthy? Not so much.  I think perhaps the best argument my opponent offers is the internet link and how this album epitomizes the rise and power of the internet, which was a huge characteristic of the decade. I listened to YHF again all the way through whilst writing my opinions and I found it as starkly beautiful as I remembered. But while Wilco’s songs are beautiful, they are not a celebration, they are heavy and they often feel that way. Being placed up against the exuberance and force that Funeral holds, they wilt and seem powerless. For your consideration, Funeral by Arcade Fire for Album of the Aughts as it uses music to transform emotion and places the listener in an entire new frame. So let’s do it like Arcade Fire want us to, and celebrate life by pushing for Funeral.

There you have it Ramblin’ Nation. Two epic albums and great in their own, different ways. There is really no loser here, but I leave it to you brave readers. What’s the best album of the decade?