10. Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend
I've heard the criticisms of this album: yes, it's a bit pretentious and Harvard-y (assuming that's a word), but it works really well despite all that. It's always hard to look past a band's image or perception to just hear the music and judge it on its own merits, but if you can get past that with Vampire Weekend, you'll be rewarded with songs like "Oxford Comma" and "Walcott." And if you have no problem with Vampire Weekend's image, you probably already love this album.
9. Muse: Origin of Symmetry
On 1999's Sunburn, Muse was a shameless Radiohead clone, but the potential was there for them to become something more than that. That potential was reached on Origin of Symmetry. In later years, Muse's bombast and theatrics would become so overblown that the band has nearly become unlistenable; but in 2001, this sound was fresh, and it was great. The songs on Origin of Symmetry manage to sound epic without also feeling pretentious (cough, The Resistance), and highlights like "Citizen Erased" are multipart guitar-led odysseys that can still make those of us who had the misfortune of slogging through The 2nd Law remember why we cared enough about this band to do so.
8. Queens of the Stone Age: Songs for the Deaf
This is a matter of personal preference only, but I think this is the best album that Dave Grohl ever worked on. I'm certainly not arguing that this is more important or relevant than Nevermind; there's no argument to be made there. I'm just saying, for me, this is the best project he was ever involved with. Queens of the Stone Age is that rare band that maintains mainstreamn popularity solely based on quality, something that is all too rare, and even more rare for a metal band. The reason you'll still hear "No One Knows" on a modern rock station is because it's damn good, nothing else. The different voices and styles heard throughout this album provide a nice change of pace and prevent Songs for the Deaf from getting stale. Not that there was any danger of that; aside from the silly radio gimmick, this album is tremendous. It's metal for those who like it and those who don't; an impressive feat for an extremely polarizing genre.
7. Spoon: Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Adding horns to a band's sound isn't always a good thing, but for Spoon, it directly spawned their two best songs: "You Got Yr Cherry Bomb" and "The Underdog," both from this album. Few bands can match the run of good albums Spoon had in the decade between 2001 and 2010, and this one, from 2007, was the high point. And while it's not all because of the horns, they have more to do with it than you might think.
6. The National: Boxer
Boxer is a slow burn of an album, one that you don't realize is so good until you've heard it the second time, and by the third time, you're wondering how you never noticed this vocal melody, or that drum part, or that piano intro. The two adjectives most often used to describe The National are "consistent" and "sad," which belies how exceptional they are at being consistently sad. Consistency is boring until you remember how remarkable it is; that's what makes Boxer so deceptively great.
5. The Strokes: Is This It
They hype for this album was overwhelming; good thing it delivered the way it did. They were supposed to "change rock music," what they did instead was make one of the decade's defining albums, which should be good enough for everybody. Not every band has to start a musical revolution; the reason a band like Nirvana is so important is because of how rarely something like that is. Is This It isn't Nevermind, but it doesn't need to be; it's still fantastic.
4. The Decemberists: The Crane Wife
The Crane Wife contains two twelve-minute songs. I'm sure I turned a good number of people off the album with that one sentence, but it's actually those two twelve-minute songs that are the main reason this album is so good. Both are actually in multiple parts, and they showcase both Colin Meloy's ability to write lyrics that actually tell a compelling story (which is a rarity), and The Decemberists' ability to stretch the same concept over a long period of time and create something that changes, but works together. And isn't that really what an album is all about? So if you can get over the long track times, you'll find something fantastic here.
The Crane Wife contains two twelve-minute songs. I'm sure I turned a good number of people off the album with that one sentence, but it's actually those two twelve-minute songs that are the main reason this album is so good. Both are actually in multiple parts, and they showcase both Colin Meloy's ability to write lyrics that actually tell a compelling story (which is a rarity), and The Decemberists' ability to stretch the same concept over a long period of time and create something that changes, but works together. And isn't that really what an album is all about? So if you can get over the long track times, you'll find something fantastic here.
3. The White Stripes: Elephant
I debated for a very long time whether to include this album or White Blood Cells, which is pretty much every bit as good. I eventually decided on this one (obviously) for a few reasons: it's a better length than White Blood Cells, which is a bit long; but mostly that, aside from "In the Cold, Cold Night," which doesn't need to exist, I can't find a single flaw with this album. There's a reason fans of old-school blues rock flocked to this album after hearing "Ball and Biscuit," but Elephant goes beyond bringing back blues rock; it solidifies the White Stripes' sound as something brand new, something unmatched by anyone else (including present-day Jack White himself). Forget about the obnoxious college kids chanting the "Seven Nation Army" riff at football games, and instead remember why they started chanting it in the first place: because it's damn catchy.
2. Arcade Fire: Funeral
Childlike innocence is a wonderful thing, but it's also one of the hardest moods or feelings to recapture as an adult. That's what's so incredible about Funeral; it manages to bottle the spirit of childhood innocence and turn it into music. There's a reason Arcade Fire became such a buzzed-about indie band in 2004; the likes of this album had rarely been heard. Now they're one of the biggest bands in the world (or at least they think they are), but they have yet to top this, and they probably never will. But that's to big expected; something like this could likely only be achieved once, and really, they're lucky that they managed to do so at all.
1. Radiohead: In Rainbows
There's a moment on "All I Need," the fifth track on In Rainbows, around the 2:45 mark. "All I Need" is a slow burn of a song at the beginning, carried by a great bassline and Thom Yorke's soaring, reverbed-out vocals. But at 2:45, the piano starts building up, and suddenly the cymbals crash in, and it's a little like a dark room has suddenly filled with light (but for the ears) and the song which was once so minimalist finishes with a huge sound.
There are a lot of things I could say to explain why In Rainbows is, in my opinion, the best album of the decade, but that's the one that stands out to me. Kid A was the big statement, the reaction to OK Computer that somehow managed to be completely different and yet very nearly as good. But In Rainbows is beauty in music personified. It doesn't define the decade the way Kid A does; but for me, this is the best music released in those ten years, all captured by that one moment.