THE LIST 2004

[December 22nd, 2004] 1. Devendra Banhart, Niño Rojo

In a year when cultural conservatism crept into the electorate and onto the charts, the neo-folk movement let its freak flag fly, silently subverting the status quo by ignoring it. Leading the charge was Devendra Banhart, the shaggy Reagan baby with a clenched jaw, a well-worn acoustic guitar and a vibrato that would spook Ma Rainey. Niño Rojo was the second release of the year for the Manson look-alike, and a grand foundation for a genre of music built on childlike whimsy and verse about pig-man sex, amid other less offensive material.

2. Kanye West, The College Dropout

Not only did Kanye West add some intellectual complexity to an arm of the music industry that has become more worried about how it should dress than what it should say. With The College Dropout, the MC and producer also played with the existential trip-ups popularized by the underground and actually made them fun. Here West addresses the hypocrisies of modern education, spiritual struggles and the self-destructive tendencies of a cash economy, all of this with those unmistakable Chipmunks-meets-Vandross R&B loops that are his trademark.

3. The Arcade Fire, Funeral

With its pulsing, vital sound, the Arcade Fire proves that the rhythm-heavy rock band still lives. The leading forces in rock might have been focused on stripping the genre to its most basic elements over the past two years, but this troop of marching-band rejects from Montreal heads the other way on Funeral. The group stormed the indie-rock world's barricades with this layered, lush mix of drums, guitar scratches, boiling-hot vocals and glockenspiel.

4. The Hold Steady, The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me

Sure, Craig Finn's downtown art-guy yelp gets monotonous. But the Hold Steady lead barker's recitations of debased love and barroom shenanigans demand recognition. Sucking listeners in for long enough to turn endearing, Finn's speak-sing becomes as necessary to life as your favorite whiskey. Add to that the fact that Tad Kubler lays down some of the fattest roaring guitar riffs of the year on The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me, and this disc offers the high risk of full-on addiction.

5. duo 505, Late

One day, the generally obtuse electronic artist B. Fleischmann was introduced to Herbert Weixelbaum. The two discovered they both had an affinity for the Roland MC-505, also known as the Groovebox, and a partnership called duo 505 was born (cue sitcom buddy music). The result? An electronic album as accessible as it is smart. Pulled together by padded synth drones, Late has it all: downplayed--but danceable--beats for the raver kids, glitchy asides for the Intelligent Dance Music crowd and charming melodies for your folks.

6. The Mountain Goats, We Shall All Be Healed

Oddly enough, the increasingly muscular Mountain Goats' We Shall All Be Healed stands as this year's most clear-voiced exploration of self-destruction. The album, loosely based on John Darnielle's speed-addled Portland days, finds the chief band member lacing his peculiar stories with moments of despair and joy, tied together with vein-popping vocals and a powerful workman's strum.

7. Joanna Newsom, The Milk-Eyed Mender

You can be forgiven for thinking Joanna Newsom was discovered in some backwoods Renaissance Fayre playing next to the mead tent. Newsom is another member of the family of odd folkies led by Banhart, and on The Milk-Eyed Mender, she weaves pixielike images with her high-register voice. Played almost entirely on a harp by the classically trained musician, the album reveals an underutilized folk instrument and an unparalleled, irresistible female voice.

8. Modest Mouse, Good News for People Who Love Bad News

Some critics might claim Franz Ferdinand's self-titled album was the release most likely to shift the pop climate this year. But that's because they've underestimated Modest Mouse's groundbreaking Good News for People Who Love Bad News, a much more aggressive album than anything those post-punk-robbing Scots could bring to the dance floor. Led by the ever-furious Isaac Brock, Modest Mouse explores sonic spaces that shimmy and shatter in an alien orgy of groove, while making room for something that has been missing from the radio for too long: the rant.

9. Candi Staton, self-titled

God bless Alicia Keys and Macy Gray for giving it their best shot. But they just can't compete with the soul that was born 40 years ago in a much simpler yet more volatile environment. Aretha Franklin is the queen, but there were others beltin' out notes of uncomplicated truth. That elite group includes Southern soul singer Candi Staton, whose earliest recordings are found here. From the sound of this 26-song collection, the only thing blocking Aretha-like recognition is Staton's intensity, so emotionally charged it's almost too scary.

10. Green Day, American Idiot

This notable disc proves that a band left for dead can still rise up to create its most vital album yet. Complex and fiery, American Idiot is the tale of what happens to the suburban outcast when, instead of looking for a place to masturbate, he starts searching for his soul.