10 from '10: Muzeek

For someone like me, who would gladly make a list at the drop of the hat (followed by a list of my favorite dropped hats), December truly is the most wonderful time of the year. Not because of communal outpouring of love and charity and stomach cramps and all that, but because we're at another marking period on the cultural calendar; it's time to put the artistic year in perspective, to look back upon what worked, what didn't, and what featured "and starring Cher" in the end credits. We begin with a look at this year's musical output. Now let's make one thing clear; though I'm a pretty decent singer, I can't tell a fermata from a frittata, so I'm eschewing any technical analysis when reviewing the works listed below. Instead, when choosing my 10 Favorite Albums from 2010, I looked for music that refused to let me be impartial; that, through some mixture of rhythm, melody, lyric, phrasing, production, and flat-out creative chutzpah got me out of my seat and into the game, stroking my figurative beard in deep-thought, wiping tears from eyes, or whipping my hair back and forth with youthful abandon. May this list also serve as a sizable helping of middle-finger to those who have my musical tastes pinned down to Barbra Streisand and her only equal, Barbra Streisand. I like that music them youngsters listen to as well. Plus, Barbra didn't release any new work this year.....bitches and hoes. Bitches and hoes. Anywho...

MAH TEN FAV'RIT ALBUMZ OF TWENNY TEN AH!!!:

10. Drake, Thank Me Later-Here's proof positive that you can blend hip-hop and bubblegum pop without dulling your aural edge. Thank Me Later is a rap album refreshingly free of anger and heavy-handed misogyny, one that presents its creator as a suave fly-by-nighter (the crushed-velvet synths of "Karaoke", the Prince-esque earnestness of "Find Your Love), albeit one with a dark side that rears its gloriously anarchic head in cuts like the sober-faced Nicki Minaj duet "Up All Night" and the inarguable highlight of the album, "Over", where Drake layers his partied-out paranoia over a thundering snare sample. The result is, like the rest of the album, both a product of and a good-natured jab at the world of hip-hop post-Hova."Karaoke"

9.Raya Yarbrough, December Songs-If the Raya Yarbrough that shows up on this sophomore effort isn't the stunning jazz songwriter showcased on her self-titled 2007 debut, that's a caveat I'm willing to dismiss when faced with such tremendous evidence of her skills as an ace interpreter. That silken voice soars on lushly rendered standards like "Midnight Sun" and "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas", and she shows off a newfound knack for cunning orchestration, placing 70's folk chestnut "River" and Danny Elfman curio "Sally's Song" in torch-ballad settings with resounding success. My advice to this burgeoning songbird: do what you're doing, only more often!

8. Robyn, Body Talk-If Stieg Larsson was Sweden's answer to Stephen King, Robyn is their resounding reply to all Americans going gaga over Gaga. All dancefloor requirements are more than satisfied; the beats are frequent and fat enough to tear through speakers, the choruses are unshakable, and every lyric is delivered in a teasing purr that all but sanctions prom-night hookups. Still, what makes the album stick is it's special dollop of darkness, the distinctly European melancholy present in spurned-sweet-pea anthems like "Dancing On My Own" and "Love Kills".

7.The National, High Violet-Unlike the above record, this is not a set of songs that begs to be blasted over a stereo. It's a sonically intoxicating set of buzzy, angular musical tone poems best appreciated when you're stewing in a dark room with your eyes closed and your headphones on (think Leonard Cohen, plugged in but mellowed out). Uberfans may fall victim to overpraise (one iTunes reviewer notes that "If a sphere were a sound, it would sound like this"....sweet life), but underestimating this consistently brilliant, wholly original group would be a much greater mistake, indeed. "Terrible Love"

6. Kanye West, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy-Separating the man from the music is damn near impossible, especially on this sprawling album, where Kanye veers with whiplash intensity from ruthless self-flagellation to boozy boasts and back again. This one lacks the tight, one-grand-slam-after-another feeling of Late Registration. However, if that was his Abbey Road, this is his White Album, a melodically adventurous, dizzingly diverse, ideologically robust, occasionally overindulgent reminder of the fact that, for all his behavior both erratic and erotic, we keep returning to his work because, in terms of flow, of force, of sheer lyrical fire, Kanye's the greatest talent in his chosen genre today; to paraphrase the album's strongest cut, "no one man should have this much power."

5. Anthony D'Amato, Down Wires-Remember what a ramshackle riot Bob Dylan's first few albums were? How the guy penetrated the patriotic put-ons of our swiftly changing country and the nooks and crannies of his own aching heart with just a guitar, a harmonica, and an abundance of vicious verbosity-and seemed to be having a hella good time doing it? Well, some of the work on this compendium of socially conscious blues-rock rave-ups ("Ballad of the Undecided" and "Never Grow Old") is so great it actually approaches that same cathartic peak of ragged, throaty energy.

4. Local Natives, Gorilla Manor-If Fleet Foxes, David Byrne and George Harrison banded together and blessed us with a musical lovechild, the result would sound something like Gorilla Manor, an ebullient hybrid of angsty indie and jubilant Afropop that, before it is anything else, is an extremely generous helping of ear-candy. Nothing dissonant, spacey, or inaccessible to be found here-the hooks are clean and catchy, the harmonies subdued and sweet, and the lyrics endearingly cheeky ("Memory tells me that these times are worth working for..."). Some albums go notoriously well with addictive substances; this one is it's own addictive substance. "Airplanes"

3. Peter Gabriel, Scratch My Back-Truly great songs sound as if they've been around forever. That was clearly the former Genesis singer's rationale when he was creating this esoteric but highly emotional collection of indie covers (Arcade Fire, Talking Heads) set to classical chamber orchestrations. The highly traditional presentation of these songs allows us to the heretofore unavailable privilege to experience Gabriel as a vocal interpreter instead of a pop performer; his voice, while not as supple as it once was, still drips with a deeply affecting mixture of vulnerability and hope, particularly in a surging version of Bon Iver's "Flume" that happens to be the only standalone track released this year that moved me to tears.

2. Aloe Blacc, Good Things-Ever since Amy Winehouse hit the charts, everyone and their cousin Vinny has been at work on a good ol' fashioned album of R&B. But Soul with a capital S is a unique quality you can't manufacture, so few of these efforts have really hit the spot. Blacc's prophetically titled debut is the exception to the rule, a traditionalist triumph that's as warm and satisfying as a plate full of soul food; wah-wah-meets-big-brass anthems like "I Need A Dollar" and "Hey Brother" would fit in effortlessly on an R&B compilation with the likes of Bill Withers and Marvin Gaye.

1. Anais Mitchell w/guests, Hadestown-If you read my blog on a regular basis, you've already seen me spill my love and my ink over Anais Mitchell's knockout concept album that re-tells the Orpheus legend against the volatile backdrop of Depression-era Lousiana. Suffice to say that Mitchell's the best songwriter of her generation, and guest artists like Ani DiFranco and Bon Iver invest her mystical, musing lyrics with every ounce of urgency they deserve. Worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as concept greats like Dark Side of the Moon and Sgt'. Pepper's, this boundary-bursting concoction is part zydeco, part folk, part rock, part soul, and all heart. Like all great albums, it takes you places. "Wedding Song"