Classic Albums 10 Years In

I particularly rever artists with true staying power. Stereogum's Listomania feature recently came out with an inspired list of 10 Classic Albums Released 10 Years Into A Band/Artist's Career. The original list is here, but it inspired me to think of a few of my own, less obvious but equally noteworthy, inclusions. Alas, scanning quickly through my record collection I've only come up with a further six, so I would be interested in your own suggestions.

Animal Collective - Merryweather Post-Pavilion (2009)

A decade into one of the most unpredictable and genre-defying careers of recent times, Animal Collective finally hit the big time with this gorgeous yet vibrant concoction of ethereal pop. Arguments will rage on as to which AC album is the best (with the exception of Danse Manatee, I'll accept cases for any one of their releases), but there can be little argument that Merriweather Post-Pavilion is their most cohesive and consistent release to date. The world waits in anticipation of what they'll come up with next.

The Flaming Lips - Transmissions From The Satellite Heart (1993)

Transmissions Of A Satellite Heart marked the first unlikely success story for Oklahoma's acid-fried rockers, thanks to the wonderfully goofy single She Don't Use Jelly (the only song which dared to rhyme the word "store" with "orange"). It was indicative of an album with a wealth of deranged yet oddly endearing riches, whilst the uber-drums and digitised guitar sound of the closing Slow Nerve Action pointed the way towards the even more fruitful Dave Fridmann years.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Let Love In (1994)

There perhaps isn't such a thing as the definitive Bad Seeds album, a fact which owes more to their unwavering brilliance than any paucity in quality recordings. But Let Love In may be the closest they've got to it. It has textbook examples of all their calling cards: unhinged rockers (Jangling Jack); songs of unrepentent lust (Loverman); hilarious gallows humour (Lay Me Low); a clutch of Cave's finest ballads (I Let Love In, Nobody's Baby Now, the all-encompassing two-parter Do You Love Me?) and of course, in Red Right Hand, one iconic song about a man of shadowy deeds.

Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna Are You The Destroyer? (2007)

With 2007's game-changing Hissing Fauna... Of Montreal were transformed from fey, anglophilic popsters, to dark, damaged electro-glam-funksters. They hadn't completely forsaken their love of the UK; pushed to the brink by a messy break-up from his then-girlfriend, bandleader Kevin Barnes took on the persona of African-American tranvestite Georgie Fruit, a definite nod to Bowie's alter-egos of the 70's. Faberge Falls For Shuggie would casually toss out the titles for the band's subsequent string of releases, none as good as this landmark record.

Sleater-Kinney - The Woods (2005)

In what unfortunately turned out to be their swan song (though at least we now have Wild Flag as compensation), the Washington all-girl trio beefed up their guitar-playing chops and enlisted producer Dave Fridmann to amp up their sound even further, resulting in their heaviest sounding record. The Woods shamelessly revelled in a love for bluesy 70's rock - few suspected that Sleater-Kinney could write an 11-minute song, let alone pull it off with such fortitude - but the siren-like vocals of Corin Tucker and Carrie Brownstein gave it that crucial gut-punch.

Talk Talk - Laughing Stock (1991)

After a painstaking recording process which would ultimately break the band, 1991's Laughing Stock found Talk Talk worlds away from the (admittedly darker than most) New Romantic outfit which had started out 10 years previously. It stands alongside its predecessor, 1989's Spirit Of Eden, as a stunningly singular piece of work, Mark Hollis' haunting vocals put to music which, with the aid of a host of fellow musicians, resonated with atmosphere, managing to sound both wildly improvised and impeccably crafted. Few albums are so hugely influential, and yet so utterly inimitable.

Zaireeka! - reappraisal of a misunderstood classic

Pitchfork Media is celebrating its 15th birthday this week. Love it or loathe it, there's no denying the site has had an almost unparalleled influence on the indie/alternative music scene over that time. It's also hard to deny that since its inception in 1996, the standard of writing has improved substantially.

For me, one of the greatest travesties that P4k ever inflicted on music journalism was its 0.0 score of Zaireeka!, the Flaming Lips' mind-boggling 4CD album from 1997. One of the worst things about that review was the fact that it failed to provide any critique of the album's music whatsoever, but instead laid into the album's concept (for the uninitiated, the four CDs which make up Zaireeka are all meant for simultaneous play, meaning you need 4 CD players, or else three other friends with CD players, to get the full listening experience).

First of all, let me say that the concept to Zaireeka! is brilliant on so many levels. You never get the same listening experience twice. To keep 4 CD players perfectly in sync over 8 songs and 45 minutes is simply an impossible task, but that ends up being half the fun, especially when you start hearing echoes of a vocal before the original vocal has even been uttered. And then you're able to play around with the whole album dynamics. Which CD should I play in this player? How loud should I have it? Where should this CD player go in the room? And whilst 4 CDs is undoubtedly the recommended  set-up, Zaireeka! can be enjoyed with 3 or even just 2 CDs, giving all manner of permutations (just make sure you have CD1 included in there somewhere).

And then there's the intended communal experience of Zaireeka!, the idea of friends coming along, bringing their CD players, having some drinks, and sitting back and soaking up the madness. I've experienced the album once in this manner, and it has really stuck in my mind in a way that I've never had from simply sticking on a CD, either before or since.

But all of this would be moot if the music itself was a load of old cobblers. It's here where Zaireeka! transcends mere gimmickry, offering a wonderful, and surprisingly focussed set of songs which actually runs the gamut between 1995's Clouds Taste Metallic (when they still sounded like a band playing actual instruments) and 1999's polyphonic masterpiece The Soft Bulletin pretty well.

As part of their 15th birthday celebrations, P4k have dug up a number of journalistic pieces from their archive, one of which is a reappraisal of Zaireeka!, originally written in 2002. It goes a long way to addressing the original misdemeanour, by pretty much outlining what I've said here. Hopefully, moments of agenda-driven, attention-seeking drivel such as that original review are a thing of the past on P4k. But should there remain a dearth of level-headed, objective writing on P4k's pages....well you've always got KILAS, haven't you?