The Music of 2011

ARTIST OF THE YEAR: Bon Iver

You could’ve given me 50 options for who I thought would be my favorite musician of 2011 and I would never have come close to guessing Justin Vernon, a.k.a. Bon Iver. The bearded wonder symbolizes everything I’ve come to loathe about indie music. Or so I thought. The story of Vernon’s first album, where he poured his heart out after a bad breakup while sequestered in a Wisconsin cabin, just seemed way too precious for my tastes. 

But Vernon has a tougher edge to him than I gave him credit for, despite the falsetto. This year I’ve bought just about every Bon Iver track ever released (which, admittedly, isn’t much), and the band’s dominated my year like no other. I have no idea what Vernon’s singing most of the time, and it really doesn’t matter. He has a way of evoking emotion just the way he delivers his music. It’s addictive, challenging, and, ultimately, rewarding work.

Honorable Mentions

The Avett Brothers

Brian Fallon

Florence + the Machine

Dave Hause

John Mark McMillan

My Morning Jacket

Radiohead

Chuck Ragan

ALBUM OF THE YEAR: “Bon Iver,” Bon Iver (2011)

I undervalued this album when I reviewed it earlier this year. I was probably just looking for an out so as not to seem like a sucker for giving yet another glowing review to one of the most acclaimed releases of the year. My main complaint—that the middle trio of songs drags the album down—has been eradicated. Instead, I hear in “Bon Iver” a kind rock symphony, where groups of songs hang together in distinct movements. The first four tracks offer a breadth and scope of sound that continue to reward repeated listens; the middle complements all that earlier bombast like a deep breath; and then the final trio blends together with cathartic fire and releases you into the night. 

Sometimes albums just grab you, and that’s what “Bon Iver” did for me in 2011. I didn’t expect it, and secretly didn’t even want it to happen. But I’ve returned to this disc over and over and over again this year. It works just as well on a breezy summer night as it does on a foggy, rainy, afternoon in November. Like The National’s Matt Berninger, Vernon provides snatches of imagery that stick with you, like “Christmas night, it clutched the light, the hallow bright.” “Bon Iver” is packed with moments like these.

Some of my all-time favorite artists released new albums this year, and each one I thought would replace “Bon Iver” as my favorite—or so I hoped. But none did. And so I’m left to admit that, much to my own annoyance, Bon Iver won a new convert this year.

Honorable Mentions

“Circuital,” My Morning Jacket

“Covering Ground,” Chuck Ragan

“Elsie,” The Horrible Crowes

“Going Out in Style,” Dropkick Murphys

“iTunes Session,” The Gaslight Anthem

“The Medicine,” John Mark McMillan (2010)

“Paper Airplane,” Alison Krauss & Union Station

“Resolutions,” Dave Hause

“Rome,” Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi

“Ukulele Songs,” Eddie Vedder

SONG OF THE YEAR: “Perth,” Bon Iver (from 2011’s “Bon Iver”)

This was a tough year for me on a number of fronts, yet one I’m better for having lived through. “Perth” sums that feeling up perfectly. It opens with plaintive, barely audible guitar and then steadily adds more pieces—and more volume—until it absolutely explodes into a percussive extravaganza 2 minutes 32 seconds in. This is my single favorite moment of any song this year, and it is the sole reason why I bought “Bon Iver” in the first place.

Vernon’s lyrics are nearly indecipherable on the album, and reading them often leads to just more confusion about what this guy is actually trying to say. But the chorus (if you can call it that) in “Perth” embodies the mixed bag that was my 2011. “Still alive for you, love,” to me, is a statement of honest hope, which is what I’m always looking for. That line admits that there’s been pain to bear—otherwise why would you need such reassurance in the first place? But there’s a dogged determination to it, an intentional optimism. This, in essence, is how I try to live my life: I have no patience for people who live in a bubble, yet I also have no tolerance for those who refuse to try for something more, something better, something greater. 

That’s a lot to read into one line, I know, but favorite songs have a way of doing that for me. Here are some more …

“Art of Almost,” Wilco (from 2011’s “The Whole Love”)

This seven-minute epic opener to Wilco’s latest album summarizes everything I hope the band can be in its latter days. It finds the perfect balance between Wilco’s various shades, while pressing through to new ground at the same time. There are too many layers to unpack here, but this is a strong Song of the Year contender … just a brilliant piece of work that I love, love, love. From Nels Cline’s fiery solo to Glenn Kotche’s superb percussion to Jeff Tweedy’s recapturing of his sense of adventure and melody, it’s the type of track you hope a band still has the energy and vision and balls to create as they grow older. Too bad the rest of “The Whole Love” wasn’t nearly as good. 

“Baba O’Riley,” The Gaslight Anthem (from 2011’s iTunes Session)

My new favorite cover of this Who classic. Every band member is pitch-perfect here, but special shout out to Alex Levine for his sick bass work in the final minute. 

“Balthazar, Impresario,” Frank Turner (from 2011’s “England Keep My Bones”)

Tough call here picking a favorite from Turner’s excellent new album, but this acoustic bonus track paints such a beautiful picture of a musician making his last, unheralded stand, it wins out. 

“Barton Hollow,” The Civil Wars (from 2011’s “Barton Hollow”)

You know the music that plays during the commercials and credits for “Justified” (my favorite show on TV)? Yeah, this is like that, minus the rapping. Incredible song. Just wish there had been more of this and less mopey Swell Season ripoffs on the rest of the album.

“Behold the Hurricane,” The Horrible Crowes (from 2011’s “Elsie”)

OK, so Brian Fallon’s side project didn’t quite live up to my expectations. Nevertheless, he still delivered three outstanding tracks on that album that I find it impossible to choose one over the other, so I’m going with all three. This is the purest “Gaslight”-type track on the record, and it’ll leave you humming the melody long after the music stops.

“Biloxi Parish,” The Gaslight Anthem (unreleased track debuted live in 2011)

Yes, my favorite songwriter on the planet is gonna pop up a lot on this list. Deal with it. This new cut takes Gaslight in yet another new direction, with its crunchy riff providing the most classic-rock Anthem in the band’s young catalog. 

“Black Betty & the Moon,” The Horrible Crowes (from 2011’s “Elsie”)

When I first heard Brian Fallon was taking a break from Gaslight to make “nighttime music,” I had no idea what to expect. But somehow when I first heard this tremendous lounge-y number it was exactly what I wanted from the project, without knowing how to articulate it. Fallon is forceful but subtle, singing right in the sweet spot of his range about a tale of a woman who allowed the world to change who she is into what she thinks people want her to be. “Black Betty,” at just 3 minutes flat, is one of the best songs Fallon’s ever written.

“Carolina Tide,” John Mark McMillan (from 2010’s “The Medicine”)

If I could write a song, I’d hope it would come out something like John Mark McMillan, a Christian guy who sounds like he grew up listening to Pearl Jam, Led Zeppelin, and Tom Petty and found a way to infuse those influences with his own faith. I came across “The Medicine” a year later, but it instantly became one of my favorite albums of recent years. This is exactly what Christian musicians should aspire to be. There are any number of choice cuts from this album (which can’t be said, unfortunately, from his new record that came out this year), but “Carolina Tide” wins because I love the central image of going to the beach to try and rid yourself of guilt and come back a refreshed, reclaimed person.

“Cready Stomp,” Pearl Jam (from 2011’s “Vs./“Vitalogy” re-issue)

How did this incredible demo jam never become a full-fledged Pearl Jam track?!?! This is one of the hardest-rocking cuts the band’s ever written; so tough, in fact, it actually sounds more like Soundgarden than “classic” Pearl Jam. I’m mystified and annoyed that Eddie Vedder never put lyrics to this piece, because just imagining his voice soaring above this maelstrom gives me a little bit of the chills. Argh …

“Dirty Rain,” Ryan Adams (from 2011’s “Ashes & Fire”)

Adams’ first album in three years isn’t quite the comeback I was hoping for—a bit too much of the same droopiness throughout—but this album-opening track reminds me why I’ve followed this mercurial man for a decade through all his various shape shifts. This stripped-down country/blues is straight outta “Heartbreaker” awesomeness. It’s Adams at his very best.

“Discoverer,” R.E.M. (from 2011’s “Collapse Into Now”)

R.E.M. called it quits this year, but before they left the trio dropped one more classic on us. I’ve never been a big fan of the band, but this is certainly my favorite type of R.E.M. track. Soaring chorus, catchy melody, a tough edge but still poppy, and chiming guitars. Nice job here, boys. 

“Give It Up,” Gangstagrass (2011)

Did I mention “Justified” is my favorite show on TV? Yeah, any song associated with that series is likely gonna show up on this list. This one was used in the Season 2 promos.

“Houses of the Holy,” Led Zeppelin (from 1975’s “Physical Graffiti,” as performed live at Constitution Hall on 2.1.11 by Robert Plant and the Band of Joy)

This has never been one of my go-to Zep tracks, but Plant’s slowed-down, country-fied re-imagining turns it into a masterpiece. 

“Into the Mystic,” Van Morrison (from 1970’s “Moondance”)

Tony Kornheiser calls this the greatest single song ever written. After giving it a good many listens this year, I can’t say I exactly agree with him … but I definitely see where he’s coming from. Gorgeous stuff. 

“Ladykiller,” The Horrible Crowes (from 2011’s “Elsie”)

Fallon reached out to his full range of influences for this album, so it should come as no surprise that Springsteen pops up. Only this is the “Tunnel of Love” version, which is a surprise. This song is so smooth. It fits Fallon’s voice wonderfully. 

“Lay My Burden Down,” Alison Krauss & Union Station (from 2011’s “Paper Airplane”)

You know why Alison Krauss and Robert Plant were so great together? Because they’re both just great. Plant was the first to get an album out following the duo’s one-off Grammy-winning duet from 2007, but Krauss more than held her own with this outstanding effort back with her old mates from Union Station. Krauss has the voice of an angel, and nowhere on the new album is that quality more apparent than here.

“Lost in the World,” Kanye West (from 2010’s “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy”)

Kanye West’s latest solo album—like all of his work—is massively overrated. But sampling Bon Iver’s little-known “Woods” and spinning it into this big-beat manifesto was pure genius. 

“Meet You in the Middle,” Chuck Ragan (from 2011’s “Covering Ground”)

Ragan’s ode to life on the road is one of my favorite records of the year, offering innumerable choice tracks. This one gets the nod for prominently featuring—who else?—Brian Fallon. Do yourself a favor and go find this album. Ragan is so intense, you probably won’t even notice he’s playing punk rock on acoustic guitar and violin with no percussion. His Leonidas roar voice fills all the empty gaps.

“Murder in the City,” The Avett Brothers (from 2006’s “The Second Gleam,” as performed live on 2.18.11 at Constitution Hall)

There could’ve been no better way for the Avetts to open their first show after a game-changing performance at the Grammys than this tender track about the love only a family can provide. One of four brothers, the line about their father’s love sticks out to me, in particular. But moreover this was a statement by the Avetts that no matter how much success they experience, their core will remain the same. 

“No Weather,” Brian Fallon (from 2011’s Revival Tour compilation)

Fallon had himself quite a year for having no official Gaslight releases. This song was contributed to a comp heralding his tour of Europe with Chuck Ragan and Dave Hause, and the acoustic country stomper is a stirring reminder of the breadth of his musical range. 

“Peg O’ My Heart,” Dropkick Murphys (from 2011’s “Going Out in Style”)

This light-hearted rocker probably would’ve been on this list even without Springsteen’s guest spot. The Boss’ invigorating cameo just makes it that much easier to select from all the other excellent tracks on this record.

“Pray for Tuscon,” Dave Hause (from 2011’s “Resolutions”)

I first heard this song way back in January 2010 when Hause opened for Brian Fallon at the Black Cat, and I was absolutely blown away. It took another year for the Loved Ones frontman to officially release his first solo album, but it was well worth the wait. “Resolutions” came out just two weeks after the horrible shooting spree in Arizona, and “Pray for Tuscon” instantly took on a higher meaning. A Song of the Year contender, for sure.

“Saints and Sinners,” Flogging Molly (from 2011’s “Speed of Darkness”)

Flogging Molly haven’t released a truly great record in nearly a decade, but each time out they seem to manage one or two cuts that recall their former unhinged, unabashed glory. This is one. 

“Season’s Trees,” Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi (from 2011’s “Rome”)

When I first heard Danger Mouse was working on a faux Spaghetti Western soundtrack with songs featuring Jack White, the mention of Norah Jones’ involvement in the project was merely an afterthought. Well, turns out she outshines White on the album, especially here in a song destined more for a Tarantino movie than a Western. 

“Shake It Off,” Florence + the Machine (from 2011’s “Cermonials”)

Flo’s hit HUGE in the two years since releasing her debut album, “Lungs,” and that may have gone to her head a bit. The new album is a much more somber affair than the charming kitchen-sink mentality of her first effort. “Shake It Off” is Florence at her bombastic best, though, rattling windows with her clarion call of a voice soaring over top of a nu-gospel sound. 

“Skinny Love,” Bon Iver (from 2008’s “For Emma, Forever Ago”)

So when I went down the rabbit hole this year on Bon Iver, this is one of several standout tracks I discovered (go find his “Blood Bank” EP on iTunes, btw). It’s harder and tougher than you’d think this guy could and should be, bringing in a bit of acoustic Zeppelin flair. It’s also one of the tracks where he doesn’t employ his trademark falsetto, and I wish he’d do that more often.

“Staircase,” Radiohead (from 2011’s “From the Basement” session)

It started with “15 Step” from “In Rainbows,” but “Staircase” is the song that finally made me, if not a Radiohead fan, then at least a secret admirer. I’ve never denied the band’s talent; it’s merely Thom Yorke’s dying-cow voice I haven’t been able to abide (and stlll cannot, for the most part). He tones that down here, though, making room for Radiohead’s incredible rhythm section—my favorite element of the band, here boosted by Robert Plant’s drummer on a second kit. “Staircase” is the kind of song U2 tries to write when they want to sound cool; Radiohead, on the other hand, seems able to toss off cuts like this effortlessly. 

“Victory Dance,” My Morning Jacket (from 2011’s “Circuital”)

For as seminal a band as Pink Floyd is, you don’t often hear them referenced as a benchmark for newer acts. That’s probably a testament to how unique Floyd truly was. But My Morning Jacket’s dark, swirling, ethereal opening track to their outstanding new album comes as close to evoking Floyd’s sound as any band I’ve heard in recent memory, albeit with a touch of The Grateful Dead thrown in for good measure. This song will haunt your dreams. 

“You’re True,” Eddie Vedder (from 2011’s “Ukulele Songs”)

You gotta hand it to Mr. Vedder for sticking with it. When I first heard he was releasing an album of only songs featuring the tiny instrument, I figured it would either suck or be totally great. Thankfully, perhaps surprisingly, the result is the latter. Vedder’s obsession with an instrument most people think of as a joke is just one more reason why I can’t help but love the guy. And he gets more out of it than probably anyone in history ever has.

EP of the Day: The Gaslight Anthem’s iTunes Session (2011)

You can’t judge a book by its cover, but you sure can judge a band by one. Who and what a musician chooses to cover says a lot.

Just about all of my all-time favorite bands are great at playing other people’s songs—it's a sign of respect, humility, integrity, and sense of history. Johnny Cash introduced himself to an entirely new generation of fans with his series of American recordings; Pearl Jam essentially retains ownership of Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World” by this point; Bruce Springsteen’s “Stump the E Street Band” segments on tour are absolutely insane; and have you ever heard The White Stripes’ version of “Jolene”? About the only band I love that sucks at covers is U2.

The Gaslight Anthem make no bones about their musical influences, so it should come as no surprise that just about every set they play includes at least one choice cover. But until now you’d only be able to hear those selections live in concert or on an audience bootleg. This month, though, they released an “iTunes Session,” which is a collection of seven songs recorded live in a studio. It consists of four covers, two original Gaslight songs so reworked they may as well be covers, and one track, “Our Fathers Sons,” that doesn’t appear on any of the band’s previous releases.

The covers are, in a word, amazing. The set opens with the pipe bomb of The Who’s “Baba O’Riley”—well, in reality it’s more like Gaslight covering Pearl Jam’s version of the song. No keyboards here. This may be blasphemy but I think TGA have outdone their predecessors here and delivered the best “Baba” cover I’ve ever heard. Their replication of the core synth riff on guitar is outstandingly crisp, and drummer Benny Horowitz thunders away on drums like a man possessed by the natural charisma of Keith Moon. When frontman Brian Fallon unleashes those unmistakable first words, “Out here in the fields,” magic happens. I saw Gaslight perform this song last summer in Columbus and was blown away by it; you have to have guts way down deep to take on this icon of rock and roll. They killed it then, and they conquer it here.

As if “Baba” wasn’t enough, Gaslight rolls right into spectacular versions of Tom Petty’s “Refugee” and Pearl Jam’s “State of Love and Trust.” Both of these tracks are performed with the attention to detail only an obsessive fan could bring to the table—right down to Fallon chipping in with Eddie Vedder’s “yeah, yeah” at just the right moment.

And yet these tracks don’t feel like mere play-by-numbers affairs, either. Perhaps it comes down to Fallon’s charcoal growl, but these are unmistakably Gaslight Anthem efforts. There’s a verve and vigor to them, a spirit of unabashed, honest fervor that infuses everything the band touches. The only cut on the whole EP I could do without is the version of “House of the Rising Sun”—not because they don’t do an excellent job, but I just don’t care much for that song and it doesn’t play to their strengths (too slow, too heavy). I’d much rather have an official version of Hot Water Music’s “Trusty Chords.”

The remaining three songs are nearly just as good. “Boxer” is one of the hardest rockers from Gaslight’s last album, only here it’s given a stripped-down, country treatment that works surprisingly well (the mark of great songwriting, I say). “The Navesink Banks,” meanwhile, is a Gaslight icon from their first album, 2007’s “Sink or Swim”; here it’s given the heavier interpretation previously only heard in the live setting—electric guitars and pounding drums on the outro that give it a more potent feel.

The remaining track, “Our Fathers Sons,” is an outtake from the band’s breakthrough record, 2008’s “The ’59 Sound.” It has a bit of a Johnny Cash vibe and sounds like it came from the same jam session that spawned “Here’s Looking at You, Kid.” “Sons” just goes to show what a monster that album was if this little gem couldn’t make the cut. It feels like home.

This band is at yet another crossroads in its relatively short life. They just signed to Mercury Records and are in the process of writing and recording their next album, due in 2012. A little release like this gives me confidence that no matter how things might change for The Gaslight Anthem, the things I love about them stay the same.

Grade: A-

Favorite Track: “Baba O’Riley”

Least Favorite Track: “House of the Rising Sun”

Go buy it here

CD of the Day: ‘Elsie,’ The Horrible Crowes (2011)

I’m most drawn to musicians who are like me in one very specific way: They’re music fans, too. They’re passionate about it. They understand the obsessive mania of setlist craft and b-sides and cover choices and … all that geeky stuff. Some pay homage to their influences more obviously than others, but nobody wears their heroes’ tattoos on their sleeves more openly and proudly than Brian Fallon of The Gaslight Anthem. 

Many of those favorites perfectly fit his band’s brand of classically tinged power punk. The Clash … Social Distortion … that guy with the one-letter band name. Fallon’s new side project, The Horrible Crowes, is a place to vent all the rest. 

The closest thing to a Gaslight track on “Elsie” is “Behold the Hurricane,” the most uptempo, pure rock-and-roll moment on the album. And it is a winner, probably thanks in no small part to the fact that TGA guitarist Alex Rosamila appears on the cut. After that, though, there are no boundaries for THC, as Fallon dips into his bag of songwriter tricks from the likes of Greg Dulli, Tom Waits, and a smattering of other “dark” influences. The songs still sound like Brian Fallon songs, just filtered through a different amp.

“Sugar” sets the album’s tone perfectly with its murky, understated concoction of hushed vocals and restrained instrumentation all punctuated with choruses of sunlight. “Ladykiller” is the shining centerpiece of the record; I swore I wouldn’t mention Springsteen but this fantastic, breezily midtempo track just begs to be compared to anything off “Tunnel of Love” (“One Step Up,” in particular). My goodness this cut goes down smooth. “Cherry Blossoms” finds Fallon exploring his country/blues side, while funky “I Witnessed a Crime” is some sort of crazy organ-propelled speakeasy soul song. You ain’t gonna hear anything like this on a Gaslight album, that’s for sure. "Blood Loss," with its monster power chords and huge choruses, anchors the back of the record.

“Black Betty & the Moon” is my favorite song on the album. I love the whole package: the twinkling acoustic guitars, the minimalist arrangement, and, most especially, the melody that fits Fallon’s voice like a glove. Whatever range this is, he should never leave it. 

He puts the wraps on “Elsie” with the hypnotic chant of “I Believe Jesus Brought Us Together.” Fallon said this album is meant to be heard all of a piece, and this is a demonstration of why; it’s a wonderful comedown of a track, easing you out of the listening experience with grace and a car’s ignition.

The biggest problem with “Elsie” is, ironically, Fallon himself. He’s simply too positive a guy to write his best work under these intentionally dark conditions. I attribute this in large part to his Christian faith—not that Christians don’t face dark times, certainly, but we are imbued with hope and light everlasting, and that doesn’t fit too well with super-sadsack songs. What separates Fallon’s work with Gaslight from other lyricists is his ability not just to empathize with the downtrodden but to offer them a way out of their misery. He doesn’t sound at home in his own skin here, which was sorta the point, I guess, but that doesn’t make it great. The songs are lyrically dense with snatches of memorable lines, but it’s difficult to add them all up and get a sense for what they're trying to say unless you sit with headphones and the liner notes in your hands for multiple listens. The overall theme of the record is clear enough—the dissolution of a relationship in the most painful way possible—but in specifics, Fallon's never been this intentionally obtuse. I respect the artistry on display, but from a lyrical perspective “Elsie” doesn’t leave me with songs to cherish and absorb and make a part of my life the way previous Fallon work has. It’s just too depressing.

What’s more, Fallon stretches his voice to the breaking point too many times, and it comes off as unnaturally strained—like at times he’s trying too hard to sound desperate. For anyone familiar with the high note he hits on Gaslight’s “The Diamond Church Street Choir,” imagine that stretched out over multiple songs. I’m thinking specifically of tracks like “Go Tell Everybody,” “Crush,” and “Mary Ann.” Musically, there’s not a bad entry on “Elsie,” but Fallon’s delivery doesn’t work every single time. 

I’d much rather fault a guy for trying too hard than not trying at all. This is the type of album I reserve the right to change my mind about in a week or a year’s time. And in the end, “Elsie”—with its warts and winners—is the latest example of why Brian Fallon is my favorite songwriter on the planet.

Grade: B

Favorite Track: “Black Betty & the Moon”

Least Favorite Track: “Go Tell Everybody”

The Music of 2010

Despite my CD of the Day project that dusted off some older CDs in my collection, I still made plenty of time for great new music in 2010. As is my Black Friday custom, all of the music below comes with the highest possible recommendation as you search for stocking stuffers and the like.

ARTIST OF THE YEAR

Trombone Shorty

I’d never heard of this young New Orleans phenom until this year, and then it seemed like he was everywhere. And with good reason. Troy “Trombone Shorty” Andrews plays with a fire in his belly, whether he’s attacking his audience with his eponymous instrument, squealing on trumpet, singing, or dancing his way across the stage. The guy is electric, both on his new record, “Backatown,” and in concert. His blend of rock, funk, hip hop, and R&B is infectious, envigorating, and, as a trombone player myself, inspiring. His show at the 9:30 Club in August was so great, we’re going back for more on New Year’s Day.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

The Avett Brothers

The Gaslight Anthem

Patty Griffin

Robert Plant

The Whigs

ALBUM OF THE YEAR

“American Slang,” The Gaslight Anthem (2010)

This should be no surprise, really, since I devoted five days and thousands of words to this spectacular album earlier this year. Everybody always talks about a “sophomore slump,” but third albums are tricky, too, and dangerous. Gaslight had a lot of pressure living up to “The ’59 Sound,” and they nailed it. And not by simply re-recording that album, but by going in a new, more difficult direction.

“American Slang” is the band’s finest record, their most well crafted. Brian Fallon was already one of my favorite songwriters of all time before this album, and yet his work here reaches a new level of depth. These are lyrics you want to sit with and read along to the music, spend time thinking about; I could quote at least a dozen favorite lines. What I love most is that he tackles difficult personal issues without losing his inherent optimism. This may be Gaslight’s version of “Darkness on the Edge of Town,” but there’s light at the end of their tunnel.

And the songs! As you’ll see below, I finally managed to settle on one, but at least five tracks from this album were considered my “favorite” at one point or another this year, and I still haven’t fully decided. Pop, punk, soul, classic rock … “American Slang” has it all, yet it all still sounds distinctly Gaslight.

The band set itself apart from its peers with this record.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

“Backatown,” Trombone Shorty (2010)

“Band of Joy,” Robert Plant (2010)

“Crazy Heart,” soundtrack (2010)

“Ghosts on the Boardwalk,” The Bouncing Souls (2010)

“Good Morning, Magpie,” Murder By Death (2010)

“I and Love and You,” The Avett Brothers (2009)

“In the Dark,” The Whigs (2010)

“The Promise,” Bruce Springsteen (2010)

“Soulsville,” Huey Lewis and the News (2010)

“Why You Runnin’” EP, Lissie (2009)

“You Are Not Alone,” Mavis Staples (2010)

DISAPPOINTMENTS

“High Violet,” The National (2010)

“Maya,” M.I.A. (2010)

“The Suburbs,” Arcade Fire (2010)

SONG OF THE YEAR

“Suburbia,” Trombone Shorty (from 2010’s “Backatown”)

Never would I have thought my favorite song of 2010 wouldn’t have a single lyric, but greatness is greatness, and “Suburbia” is great. There’s so much going on in this trombone-and-guitar manifesto I don’t know where lyrics would even fit, anyway. There’s so much power in this track; Trombone Shorty is absolutely blasting away on his instrument, with a backing band equal to his call. What I really love about this song, though, is how it moves and changes, shifting shapes in so many ways over the course of just 3 minutes 20 seconds. And yet, the powerhouse core riff is always there, waiting to explode again. Since I first heard this song, whenever I needed a boost of energy in 2010, I went straight to “Suburbia.”

25 HONORABLE MENTIONS

“Ain’t No Grave,” Johnny Cash (from 2010’s “Ain’t No Grave”)

Johnny Cash’s final album isn’t as good as the other American Recordings, but this track, which plays like a sequel to “God’s Gonna Cut You Down,” was worth waiting for. The sparse, chain-rattling chiller is one of his best from this series.

“All Those Yesterdays,” Pearl Jam (from 1998’s “Yield,” as performed live 5.13.10)

As I wrote back in May, this was one of my Pearl Jam “bucket list” songs. Never thought I’d hear it in person (they’ve only played it 13 times since 1998), but always hoped to. It did not disappoint. The closing track to my favorite Pearl Jam album was as majestic as ever.

“Awake My Soul,” Mumford and Sons (from 2009’s “Sigh No More”)

In the Star Wars novels from recent years, there’s a phrase the authors like to use: suit action to words. That’s the idea with this song. I do actually feel revitalized after listening to it. This was a strong contender for Song of the Year from a brilliant new band.

“Big Eyes,” The Bouncing Souls (from 2010’s “Ghosts on the Boardwalk”)

The Souls continued to stretch themselves with this album, and this song, in particular. It plays like a more serious take on the front-porch feel of “The Pizza Song.” With its acoustic rhythm guitar and overall toned-down vibe, this shows real growth and is one of the band’s best tracks.

“Bloodbuzz Ohio,” The National (from 2010’s “High Violet”)

Yeah, I hated this album. But if I only had one song to try and make someone a National fan, “Bloodbuzz Ohio” wouldn’t be a bad choice. Everything I love about the band is in this song: the pounding drums; the swirling guitars; the piano flourishes that dance around the edges; and Matt Berninger’s resonant voice, which sounds as good as ever here. This is the one song from “High Violet” that holds up to “Boxer,” which is the best compliment I can possibly give it.

“Cry to Me,” Huey Lewis and the News (from 2010’s “Soulsville”)

There’s a full post coming about this album of Stax covers, but for now let me just say: How great is this?!?! Huey and the News may be a fun bar-band-gone-huge from the ’80s, but this release, their first in years, demonstrates there was a lot of depth hiding behind those winking and smiling hit songs. Tough to choose a favorite, so this one may or may not be here for its association with the “Dirty Dancing” soundtrack.

“The Day,” Murder By Death (from 2010’s “Good Morning, Magpie”)

After a wonderfully idiosyncratic album, MBD reminds at the conclusion to “Magpie” they can still bring the apocalyptic heavy. “The Day” is spooky, scary, spectacular stuff. The last 30 seconds alone make this song one of my favorites of the year.

“Everywhere I Go,” Lissie (from 2009’s “Why You Runnin’” EP/2010’s “Catching A Tiger” LP)

If you’re gonna sing about angels, then you should probably have the voice of one. That’s Lissie, who stunned me with her 2009 debut EP's stark beauty. “Everywhere I Go” gets the nod here, but really any of those five songs could be considered a favorite of the past year. Unfortunately, she fell victim to pop sensibilities on her first official LP, which makes the inclusion of this song stand out like a sore thumb. Still, when she hits that “ANGELS” note … wow.

“Fallin’ & Flyin’,” Jeff Bridges and Colin Farrell (from 2010’s “Crazy Heart” soundtrack)

There are a handful of great songs from Bridges on this outstanding soundtrack to a spectacular film, but I went with this one because it was my favorite scene in the movie, when Farrell joins Bridges onstage. Bridges does this little motion telling Farrell to get back on the mic that I just love, like a dad showing pride for his son. Bridges is magnificent as both an actor and singer, and this is just one of several examples. (Farrell’s shockingly good as a Western vocalist, too.)

“Far Away,” Jose Gonzalez/“Deadman’s Gun,” Ashtar Command (from 2010’s “Red Dead Redemption” soundtrack)

“Red Dead Redemption” is one of the best video games I’ve ever played. Entertainment Weekly described the smash hit from Rockstar (“Grand Theft Auto”) like walking around in “Deadwood,” and that’s just about right. And not only is the game awesome, but so is the soundtrack. These two moody Western ballads come at crucial points in the game and set the perfect tone for what’s happening on screen. They’re a testament to the level of quality Rockstar achieved with this singular title.

“Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise,” The Avett Brothers (from 2009’s “I and Love and You”)

The Avetts’ voices speak to me in an elemental way I’m a little at a loss to explain. It’s the clarity, I think. They sing with such grace, and power, and finesse, and energy—sometimes all at once, sometimes just pieces of those things. This song is also a good representation of the positivity the Avetts strive to create—in themselves, in their fans, in their world. It’s right there in the title: Everyone has doubts, but there’s always reason for hope; you have to use that hope to drown out the darkness in yourself. Be aggressive about it. It’s a song about living out your dreams, but the subject matter is handled frankly, realistically, and in that acknowledgement is its power.

This song includes one of my favorite lyrics of the past year:

When nothing is old, deserved or expected

And your life doesn’t change by the man that’s elected

If you’re loved by someone you’re never rejected

Decide what to be and go be it

Match lines like that to a sweeping, moving score, and you have one of my favorite songs of the year.

“Heavy in Your Arms,” Florence + the Machine (from 2010’s “Eclipse” soundtrack)

Florence Welch is on the verge of exploding into the popular consciousness. Her 2009 debut, “Lungs,” was one of my favorites from last year and it’s still gaining traction—one of those slow-burn situations. Last weekend she delivered one of the best “Saturday Night Live” performances I’ve ever seen, and next year she’s opening for U2. This song isn’t one of her very best, but it’s a more than serviceable introduction for the Twilight crowd, which certainly can’t hurt (just ask Paramore and Muse). The thunderous percussion, dramatic pauses and changes of direction, and, more than anything, Welch’s clarion-call of a voice … it’s all here in this track.

“Hundred/Million,” The Whigs (from 2010’s “In the Dark”)

The year I finally joined Facebook, The Whigs’ Parker Gispert summarized the digital age with this song: “There’s a hundred million people in my mind/Which is me, and which is not?” That’s the chorus of this sinewy rocker, which kicks off one of my favorite albums of the year.

“Hustle and Cuss,” The Dead Weather (from 2010’s “Sea of Cowards”)

I instantly fell in love with this lowdown, dirty piece of blues when it was used on the soundtrack for UFC’s hype series for the Brock Lesnar/Cain Velasquez heavyweight title fight in October. It played in the background as Lesnar went through his grueling, ferocious workout, and fit the mountain of a man perfectly. Even though Lesnar went on to lose that bout, I’ll always think back on the mixture of those images and this song with fondness. It takes Jack White an album to figure out his bands; he’s now three-for-three on second efforts, as “Cowards” is a significant improvement over last year’s “Horehound.”

“Kentucky Rain,” Elvis Presley (from 2009’s “From Elvis in Memphis: Legacy Edition”)

As I mentioned last year at this time, my appreciation for Elvis has grown steadily since visiting Graceland in 2008. It culminated this January, as there was quite a bit of hype surrounding Presley’s 75th birthday. I’m actually drawn more to his latter-career period, so after putting “Suspicious Minds” on my list for 2009, I went looking for more of the same and found this stirring gem on the bonus disc of “From Elvis in Memphis.” The entire album is great, but this was the track that most captured the power of “Suspicious Minds.” That man sure could sing.

“Long Hard Times to Come”/“On the Run,” Gangstagrass (from 2010’s “Justified” soundtrack)

My favorite new TV show of the season, Timothy Olyphant’s modern Western “Justified” was accompanied by two breakthrough tracks from Gangstagrass, who mixes bluegrass and hip-hop so well, I wonder why someone didn’t think of it a long time ago. “Long Hard Times to Come” plays over the show’s opening credits, while “On the Run” was in the trailer. Both songs perfectly capture the sentiment of the show and were crucial elements of why I loved the series so much. Can’t wait ’til February for Season 2!

“The Only Sound That Matters,” Robert Plant (from 2010’s “Band of Joy”)

Plenty of goodies to pick from on Plant’s outstanding new album, but this simple country-feeling ballad rose to the top, if for no other reason than the main guitar lick reminds me of Springsteen’s “My Hometown.” The only thing that could’ve made this charming effort even better is Alison Krauss’ voice.

“Orphans,” The Gaslight Anthem (from 2010’s “American Slang”)

I’ve gone back and forth and back again on which song to select from my Album of the Year. I finally settled on “Orphans” because it’s the capstone for the album—the mission statement. If I had to pick one line to summarize the entire record, it would be from “Orphans”: “And the clothes I wore just don’t fit my soul anymore.” It’s a song about moving on, standing on your own, establishing yourself. It is “American Slang.”

“Radioactive,” Kings of Leon (from 2010’s “Come Around Sundown”)

I love the sentiment of this song, that no matter how much things change you can always go back to your roots to find some clarity. It’s a fitting first single for this band, who became insanely popular between this release and their last, 2008’s platinum-selling “Only By the Night.” The gospel choir is a great touch, too, for one of the band’s best efforts.

“Rock Problems,” The Hold Steady (from 2010’s “Heaven Is Whenever”)

Craig Finn’s self-deprecating sendup of frontmen complaining about their success is a breath of fresh air. Over one of the hardest-rocking songs on his band’s new album, Finn speaks from a fan’s perspective about how those of us in the real world just can’t sympathize with his “rock and roll problems.” “This is just what we wanted,” Finn agrees. 1993 Eddie Vedder, are you listening?

“Snow Is Gone,” Josh Ritter (from 2010’s “Hello Starling” re-release)

So this folky gem would’ve been great any time I heard it, but it just happened to come across my radar following the worst snowstorm of my life. There couldn’t have been any better timing for a track that sounds like spring breaking through winter's gloom. I defy you not to at least tap a toe to this, which is like the best type of Ryan Adams song—only joyful instead of drunkenly morose.

“Sons of Liberty,” Frank Turner (from 2009’s “Poetry of the Deed”)

I’m sure Frank Turner is a liberal (aren’t they all?), but this song was a personal anthem this year as I watched President Obama, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, and their ilk reshape our nation in their own socialist image. The last line of this rousing Irish folk/punk monster track eviscerates those who want the government to run their lives for them:

’Cause a man who’d trade his liberty

For a safe and dreamless sleep

Doesn’t deserve the both of them

And neither shall he keep

Amen.

“You Are Not Alone,” Mavis Staples (from 2010’s “You Are Not Alone”)

The inspired pairing of this gospel legend with Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy led to the latter’s best song in years. Tweedy’s duet here with Staples meshes so perfectly, it’s like their two voices become one. It’s a beautiful song, both lyrically and musically. More of this on the next Wilco album, please, Jeff.