The end of the year is the best time for music fans as, it means it's time to quantify our opinions in the preferred writing style of audiophiles: lists.
As decade- and year-end lists pop up and the Cardinal's very own Arts page begins unveiling its own rankings, it changes the focus from voicing opinions to quantifying them. It may seem easier, but it is in fact much harder. How do you designate an ‘artist of the decade'? By virtuosic talent? Cultural significance? Contributions to the genres they fall under?
For our lists, we intentionally provide no such guidelines, hoping each voting member is able to combine them to their own preferable levels of importance. But since this is just me, I am going to try to strip all the ceremony of a list and go back to vocalizing what stood out to me from this decade and why.
Personal recollections
When I was in seventh grade I invested in a copy of Stankonia only to have it investigated, and subsequently returned, by my parents for its content. The album turned out to be the most essential rap recording of the decade and I still miss all of the times we could have had together had it not been for that ""Explicit Content"" label. Damn the FCC.
Second, remember how it always seemed like Usher just showed up for summer, dropped the two ""hottest"" tracks of the year that everybody sang and danced to incessantly, then worked out for the winter months improving his ‘image' for his next undoubtedly shirtless video shoot? That guy had good marketing advice. And I'm not saying I'm a huge fan or anything, but if you don't like at least some of Usher's more Michael Jackson-esque work, then you're a music snob. Sorry.
Artistic achievements
Eminem made mainstream rap fun again with tracks like ""The Way I Am"" and ""The Real Slim Shady"" when he released The Marshall Mathers LP in 2000. Dizzee Rascal made dirty, dark, introverted rap hip. And Kanye became the first hip-hop artist to masterfully maintain that gray area between street cred (well, at least at first) and commercial adoration.
But moving beyond rap, there are a couple of landmark albums to introduce you to some of the broader movements.
First, if you want to know what ""indie rock"" means, turn on Broken Social Scene's You Forgot it in People or their eponymous release. Arcade Fire's Funeral may be heralded as indie's poster child, but nothing is as accessible and easy-to-interpret as Broken Social Scene's conventional approach to such an open-ended genre tag.
As for the unconventional yet still musically motivated, there's Sigur Ros. Still considered pop/rock music formally, it is more orchestrated than written and even more emotional and effortlessly meticulous. Coming from ethereal Icelanders, Sigur Ros creates heart-achingly effectual music. But listen to the first four songs of Ágætis Byrjun and try not to double-take; they've made their case.
Lastly, Burial's Untrue introduced me to dubstep, and it can introduce you too if you give it enough of a shot. I can't recall coming across a tougher nut to crack, but boy does it feel good now that it is. Dubstep is too abstract to be catchy and played at any time and place, but Burial's emotional depth is staggering, considering its simplicity. And once you become familiar with the subtle ebbs and flows of this electronic yet organic piece, it becomes reassuring and comforting in a uniquely personal way.
Alright, I'm out of space for now, but if you have any beefs or suggestions of your own, e-mail me at jstephani@wisc.edu.
