Top 7 - My Favourite Albums of the 2010's

Welcome to week two of Best of the Decade Month! I am already exhausted and we're barely started, but let's go for it, into music week. On Thursday, we'll look at my favourite songs but today, it's my favourite albums. The rules are fairly simple for this, in that anything that isn't a film/TV score, a greatest hits release or a cover qualifies, as long as it was a full length album (not an EP) released between January 1st 2010 and December 31st 2019. I've had a weird journey with music this decade, because they were my teenage years. Music is one of those things that becomes a core of your identity as a teenager and it's funny to look back and see how I evolved from liking whatever was in the Top 40 charts to liking some weird shit. I still lean close to pop (as we will see) but I've grown a real respect for the album as an art form, the way it can tell a story or take you on a journey. As such, the list will be a mixture of "mature proper music" and "juvenile teenage music" but that's the beauty of a list like this, it's going to be a weird, fractured look into my psyche. To find a perfect example of that, you have to look no further than these first two entries on the list.



28. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy by Kanye West


I am a Kanye West apologist, at least as far as his music is concerned and though My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is indulgent and too long and often silly, the moments of pure brilliance are frequent enough that I cannot help but fall for it.


27. Jeff Wayne's Musical Version of The War of the Worlds - The New Generation by Jeff Wayne


I'll admit, this is basically just the result of slight Stockholm Syndrome. Over one of the best summers of my life, a friend of mine played this album non-stop, whether we were in Prague, Berlin or Sommerset. As a result, whenever I hear this album, I am there and I am with him and I become utterly helpless to its charms.


26. Strange Trails by Lord Huron


This will be hard to describe but Strange Trails feels like walking through the woods. There are many songs on the album about doing that exact thing, but it also has an ambience that reminds me of taking a walk in the evening, just as the sun starts to disappear. It also doesn't hurt that "The Night We Met" is on here, the song that introduced me to Lord Huron.


25. Everybody Wants To Be On TV by Scouting for Girls


I have seen no band more than Scouting for Girls and while they hardly represent my current taste, Everybody Wants To Be On TV is an album that represents the music I adored as an 11 year old. This album, particularly, reminds me of being in Italy with my Dad and my brother, singing along to the joyously cheesy sounds that Scouting for Girls found their fame with.


24. Currents by Tame Impala


I am a little indie soft boy and so of course I've fallen into Tame Impala. This is the only album of his that I've properly listened to but it's full of synthwave nonsense, my ideal type of nonsense. How am I meant to resist?


23. X by Ed Sheeran


I'm something of an apologist for Ed Sheeran, as well as for Kanye, sorry anyone who wanted sophisticated taste. X marks that point just before Sheeran went up his own arse and while "Sing" is one of the very worst songs he's ever made, the rest of the album is the acoustic loveliness that brought everyone to the guy in the first place.


22. hopeless fountain kingdom by Halsey


hopeless fountain kingdom is a lite version of the album-length storytelling I would become smitten with as the decade moved on. There are gestures towards some kind of overarching narrative but the priority is the emotional response of each individual song and fortunately, charting the journey from euphoria to agony is what Halsey can do wonderfully.


21. WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? by Billie Eilish


I did not expect to like this album as much as I did, but then again, me and Billie Eilish have been on a weird journey. The first time I heard of her was during her Hot Ones interview, the first time I heard one of her songs was when Seth Everman covered it and the first time I heard this album was as I was about to leave America, in Miami International Airport. It has stuck with me since then, an immaculately produced debut that shows real promise for her future career.


20. After Laughter by Paramore


I've liked songs here and there from Paramore before but with After Laughter, they managed to strike a chord with me. It is an album full of my favourite kind of pop song, songs that sound like they're full of joy and exuberance but whose lyrical content hides a sadness. After Laughter is wall to wall filled with bangers of that kind and sometimes, that's all you want from an album.


19. Pageant Material by Kacey Musgraves


Country music may not be my favourite genre but one exception to that rule is Kacey Musgraves. She would push the envelope further with her next album but Pageant Material succeeds because it fits decisively into the genre of country music, while also feeling genuinely progressive and open. For a genre so often led by gruff and tuff men, it's good to hear country music that's feminine and welcoming.


18. Emotion by Carly Rae Jepsen


I remember sitting on a train coming back from Newcastle and reading that Emotion was apparently one of the best albums of the year. Being young and cynical and only knowing Jepsen from "Call Me Maybe", I was dismissive. As I put the album on to find out for myself though, all doubts washed away and I was enveloped by poppy, pristine music, that understood the fun that pop music is meant to have. Since then, I have never again doubted Ms Jepsen.


17. Bon Iver by Bon Iver


No one does oppressive sadness quite like Bon Iver. Personally, I prefer his first album but seeing as that came out in 2009, I'm more than happy to talk about Bon Iver instead. It is gentle, acoustic, sadcore stuff, open for easy parody, yet feeling too sincere to deserve a take down. Whenever I hear songs like "Holocene" or "Perth", I am going to melt into the artists hands, every time.

16. Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves


As I was saying with her earlier album, Kacey Musgraves has more recently moved into that weird middle ground between pop and country that Taylor Swift once commanded. Musgraves takes a different approach though, with a hazy, drug-infused vibe that makes Golden Hour an absolutely effortless listen. If you open your album with "Slow Burn", I am going to be putty in your hands, simple as that.


15. Yeezus by Kanye West


Again, Kanye West apologist, sorry. From the outside, Yeezus is an aggressive, almost confrontational album but hidden inside its vicious bars are pleas for escape from a man whose ego has overtaken him. If you listen to Yeezus, and I mean really listen, you realise that West is a genius. His arrogance (at least at this point in his career) was a facade behind which hide fears about still existing racial divides and self-loathing, but importantly, that was all there along with some hilarious lyrics and absolutely balls-out production decisions. It could only ever be from Kanye West


14. The S.L.P. by The S.L.P.


For those who don't know, The S.L.P. is a project by Serge Pizzorno, most famous as the leading half of Kasabian who hasn't been convicted of domestic assault. This album is the fruit of Pizzorno's labour and it is way weirder and much more experimental than anything Kasabian have ever released. Somehow though, it does all that musical experimentation while also sneaking in some well deserved jabs about the stuck up nature of British society. It is an absolute treat that I did not see coming.


13. Vide Noir by Lord Huron


By the time Vide Noir came out, I was a full blown fan of Lord Huron and was excited for what was to come. Their first two albums had been pleasant and folksy, both (like I said earlier) feeling akin to a nighttime walk in the woods. Vide Noir transplants that vibe and places it in outer space and for whatever reason, it works perfectly. When I saw the band live, this was the album they were touring and it was an incredible experience. Would I sound too dickish if I said it was out of this world?

12. Awaken, My Love! by Childish Gambino


When Donald Glover left Community, I just hoped he was going because he was planning on doing something big. Between Atlanta and Awaken My Love!, it's fair to say he exceeded my expectations. This album is most famous for being the home of the iconic and inescapable "Redbone", but it's the source of many other funky and fun beats. I am aware I'm describing a rap album in the whitest way possible, so I'll shut up for now but yes, it is the rare rap album that can pull even me into its orbit.


11. Junk by M83


M83 are pretty much my perfect level of weirdness. Junk feels like a slightly more jumbled collection of their ideas and melodies but equally, isn't that completely appropriate for an album called Junk? Bringing Beck into the mix is a brilliant move which makes the nonsense feel vaguely guided in a way that never detracts from the magic of the music. If electropop isn't for you, Junk won't convert you, but I was never asking for conversion.


10. Dirty Computer by Janelle Monae


Other albums have been as sexually charged, but no album has been as relentlessly and joyously horny as Dirty Computer. Not only did it manage the miracle of dragging Brian Wilson onto the opening track but it also serves as such a fun embrace of queer identity, black Americana and feminine defiance, that to oppose those causes after listening to this album makes you a massive stick in the mud as well as a bigot. I defy you not to adore an act of defiance this fun.


9. Everything Now by Arcade Fire


Being "the worst album Arcade Fire released this decade" isn't actually such a bad thing for Everything Now, seeing as its still the ninth best of the decade and the other two albums Arcade Fire released are two of my favourite albums ever. The titular track is an absolute bop about the horrors of late capitalism (the club anthem I've been crying out for) but the rest of the album is no slouch either, proving that as long as society continues to be a dystopian nightmare, Arcade Fire will be able to release music that fits into that ambience.


8. + by Ed Sheeran


This is easily my worst take but + simply has such a strong, nostalgic tie for me. It came out during my first year at secondary school and has followed me everywhere since, returning me to those strange years gone by. Even now, if you played pretty much any song from this album, I would be able to sing the lyrics back to you. There are songs on this album that are inextricably tied to beautifully tender moments between me and some of my closest friends and whether or not you like or liked Ed Sheeran, you can't take that from me. This album is a foundational brick of who I am and much as I wish it was something cooler in this place, I remain exceptionally fond of it.


7. MASSEDUCTION by St. Vincent


MASSEDUCTION is a brilliant album about relationships, control and sex. The album cover admittedly may have given that away somewhat, but please indulge me, I've got to write some more to fill up this section. When MASSEDUCTION came out, I was still processing my first relationship, which was, in a word, messy. This album, in a strange way, helped me process it, as well as represented a stage in my learning about other people and the world around me (sorry, cringe alert there). No song is wholly joyous, swinging from a pretence of joy ("Los Ageless" and "Pills" are upbeat damnations of middle class existence) to lost melancholy ("New York" and "Slow Disco" remain two of the more beautiful songs I've ever heard). It is an album that takes itself seriously but thankfully, when I saw St. Vincent play it live (name drop), it was clear what an act it all was. There she was, ripping out on an awesome looking guitar, just grinning from ear to ear. Everything on MASSEDUCTION is about performance, even its own performance. I could analyse it or listen to it with joy any day of the week.


6. Hurry up, We're Dreaming by M83


What does nostalgia sound like? The question is misleading, because your immediate response will be to think of sounds that evoke nostalgia for you, but that is a different thing altogether. What is the actual sound of nostalgia? I believe that the closest I've ever heard is Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. It taps into a collective subconscious about a time that once was but can never be again in a way that is universal yet never broad, evoking people, places and powerful emotions that are no more like they were. Like many of the other albums on this list, it is also an album that is able to fluctuate emotionally. On "Midnight City", an electric synth riff carries you off to nirvana, accompanied by a fat rip on the saxophone that will make you feel as electric as the instruments it is performed on. A song like "Wait" can bring all that back down though, using gibberish, unintelligible lyrics to somehow rip melancholy deep out from your core. Often, I joke that Hurry Up, We're Dreaming is my breakdown album, because I always seem to put it on when I'm having an essay related moment of intense stress. The reason I keep doing that though is because the album works on me, it really does. The catharsis of that nostalgia being brought from me like a pied piper leading away rats, means that I am able to carry on my life again. But it's always there, waiting, knowing I will need it again. And its right. I always do.


5. Carrie and Lowell by Sufjan Stevens


I've been mentioning upbeat songs that hide a misery quite a lot throughout this post, but that absolutely does not apply to Carrie and Lowell. Sufjan Stevens has written downbeat music many, many times before, but in writing about the death of his mother, he heads deep into the pits of misery. Those mines are not inescapable, light is able to be glimpsed, but it is undoubtedly bleak. The first half of the album builds up the relationship, making clear the adoration that Stevens felt for his mother and the second half then deals with how he is meant to move on now that she is gone. These two halves are bridged by the heartbreaking "Fourth of July", in which his mother dies. Not just his mother faces this fate though, as Stevens reminds us with the refrain: "We're all gonna die". In any medium, it is hard to find such an honest and open discussion of the immediate process of grieving, but somehow Stevens does it. You could dismiss some of the technical elements of this as textbook indie techniques (I understand how some can feel it almost as a parody of Stevens' own work), but the emotional vulnerability keeps me constantly on its side. Carrie and Lowell is probably the saddest album I have ever heard and yet, because it is so sublimely beautiful, I cannot help but return to it, allowing it to dash me amongst the rocks and tear me into pieces, scattering me amongst the waves every time. It does it so well.



4. Pure Heroine by Lorde


Part of me hates Pure Heroine. "It is incredible and confident and speaks for an entire generation, how could you hate it?" you may ask. Well, I hate it because Lorde was 17 when it was released. She, at that age, was able to sing to a part of me that I barely even knew was there. It simply isn't fair that one woman can have such overwhelming talent at such a young age! Fortunately, that hate dies away as soon as I actually put the album on and just appreciate that yes, it is incredible, confident and truly does speak for an entire generation. "Royals" became an instant hit and even today, is probably the song Lorde is most known for, but I would say it's barely in the top half of best songs on the album, so full of gems is it. A song like "Tennis Courts" speaks to late night adventures in a hometown with nothing to do, "White Teeth Teens" captures the feeling of wanting to fit in but realising that everyone is faking it and "Ribs" is simply exquisite, filling me with existential terror and youthful delight every time I hear it. The true irony of Pure Heroine is that, when I listened to it at age 17, it wasn't for me. I liked it fine enough but didn't really connect to it in any meaningful way. A year later, when I was at Uni, I tried again. It suddenly all clicked and has refused to unclick ever since. Pure Heroine is a regrettably ironic title, considering how addicted I am to Lorde's beautiful vocals, tender lyrics and toe-tapping tunes.


3. Reflektor by Arcade Fire


If I didn't have the rule about no movie soundtracks, the score Aracde Fire wrote for the film her would definitely have made the list. It is a score that makes you feel terribly, terribly alone, yet lets you know that being alone isn't actually such a bad thing. Around the same time though, they released a full length "proper" album and that feeling (and one of the songs) is carried across from the film. That album is Reflektor and it is a work of inexplicable power. Half of the album is a kind of disco defiance against some strange, intangible evil. Maybe it's technology, as on "Reflektor", maybe it's transphobes, like it is on "We Exist" or maybe it is simply against normaility, as on the song "Normal Person". As the album progresses though, it becomes mythic, in a strangely literal way. Two tracks are dedicated to the story of (and named after) the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, a myth about a man who goes to retrieve his loved one from the Underworld but loses her when he turns to look back. The interpretation of the myth itself is ambiguous (just see that terrific scene from Portrait of a Lady on Fire for proof) but it is clear that that myth and its imagery has infected the album. The album cover is even a statue of Orpheus and Eurydice, is that not clear enough proof? Why Reflektor takes such extensive cues from Greek mythology is your own opinion but regardless of why, I adore the way that Arcade Fire mix timeless fable with electronic paranoia to create an album that I have on a near constant loop. For a good long time, it was my favourite Arcade Fire album. I believed they had made no better. This was insurmountable, surely.


2. The Suburbs by Arcade Fire


I was wrong! I've told this story a few times recently but when I first heard The Suburbs, I did not like it. I wasn't even able to make it all the way through the album, so much did I dislike it. The reason I believe it finally clicked was, ironically, I actually visited American suburbs and I just suddenly got it the very next time I heard the album. What was once unlistenable became unstoppably brilliant. In terms of breaking down the album, it's simple; it is at once a critique of the suburbs and also an ode to childhoods spent growing up there, an angry middle finger to a place of nostalgia. I am obsessed with the idea of the suburbs and will point towards films like Blue Velvet or Society as pitch perfect takedowns of the toxic core festering underneath this nightmare world of Americana. Now that I appreciate the album, I see that The Suburbs understands that idea far better than I ever could, joining those totemic films. This is a broken world of old shopping malls stretching out to infinity, full of houses whose empty rooms are waiting to be filled after the children of the suburbs managed to finally escape. By their design, suburbs are meant to look beautiful, but they're also totally hollow and soulless. And yet, people keep going there. Some return, some seek themselves, some don't even realise that's where they've ended up. I'm doing my best here but in one paragraph, it is really hard to summarise what makes The Suburbs such a supremely powerful album. I guess the easiest thing to say is that, in a way that sounds fantastic, it talks about the middle class nightmare that capitalism has created in ways that I not only understand but, in my own culturally similar way, have lived. It is an album that says things I feel, far better than I could ever say and I'm only angry that it took me so long to realise that.


1. Meldorama by Lorde


Do you remember three entries ago, when I said I hated Pure Heroine because it was such a brilliant album, written by someone who was only 17? Now imagine how I must feel that at the age of 20, about to turn 21, Lorde one-upped herself and released the album I truly consider to be, not just the best of the decade but one of my favourites of all time. Lorde wrote this album at the age I am now. It feels demoralising to type that, realising that someone was able to create a decade defining work of art at the same age that I'm struggling to find the words to describe how Arcade Fire make me feel and daydreaming about when I'll be able to get drunk with my mates next. But again, I cannot be bitter too long, because I love the album too much. As part of their Glastonbury coverage this year, the BBC released Lorde's set from 2017, filmed one week after Melodrama came out. Even through a screen, she was one of the most exuberant stage presences I have ever seen, smiling and giggling through all her songs, clearly just delighted to be surrounded by people who liked her music. It was a joy, in part because it's nice to know that even if she surpasses me in every other way, we're at least at talented at dancing as each other, but also because there is a profound feeling of joy in seeing the artist responsible for the art taking as much joy in its existence as you do.

We haven't even touched on the songs. There's been this running theme today of "songs that sound happy but are actually very sad" and Lorde is the absolute best at them. "Green Light" is a song all about acting like you're over a breakup when you're actually still in agony inside, "Homemade Dynamite" is about choosing annihilation over agony and "Perfect Places" is about getting so out of your head that you forget you don't know what the fuck is happening in your life. Songs that are more explicitly sad like "Liability" and "Sober II (Melodrama)" are there too and sting, but I take such an incredible joy in Lorde's lyricism. The way she sings that a painting of her will be hung in the Louvre "down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre" never fails to bring a smile to my face. It's subtler too, like in "Liability" when she sings about going into the arms of the girl she loves and dancing with her. I didn't think much of it the first few times I heard it but the way she later sings "all that a stranger would see is one girl, dancing alone" broke me in two when I realised what it meant. That is why I love this album, because it is so immaculately crafted. A video went viral on Twitter a while back (that has sadly since been deleted) of Lorde talking through her process of all the different layers of the song "Green Light". Someone commented that it was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel and I agree with that to a worrying extent. For me, and for a generation of young people, whose lives are aimless, hopeless and loveless, Melodrama is essential. It is the experience of someone simultaneously telling you they know exactly what you feel, hugging you and sharing their own experiences in a way that never feels forced. It is, for me, perfect.

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