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.

Grow Up! How to mature as a music artist

How many times have you read in an album review that an artist has gone for a more "mature" sound? How many times has that made you cringe? If you've read those words in Q or Rolling Stone, "mature" pretty much translates into "sold out" and/or "become really bland". So-called maturity can be a terrible thing for the creativity and credibility of a band - just look at the Red Hot Chili Peppers - but the fact is, very few artists can get away with forever mining the same sound. And when you start off playing as loud and as hard as you possibly can, there's only one way you can really go.

Portland, Oregon indie-punkers The Thermals are a prime example of a band  currently stuck in this conundrum. Their fifth album, Personal Life, which came out last Monday on Kill Rock Stars, is a disappointment, the sound of a band with the air taken out of them, when once they bristled with energy. Nobody could accuse them of "selling out"; their no-frills approach of guitar-bass-drums remains as true as ever. But their limited template just cannot bring anything to the (all too numerous) lower tempo songs on here.

Yet good bands can mature, and remain artistically vital long into their careers. Here are a couple of examples:

Pavement

Okay, so admittedly there's not many people who would say that their favourite Pavement album is Brighten The Corners or Terror Twilight. But those two releases honed in on the tunes that were always there, beneath all the jerking around and slack-strung guitars. And whilst the recording of Terror Twilight in full 24-track glory may have seemed like heresy to some, it served to make The Hexx the most densely atmospheric song in their entire catalogue.

Proof: Shady Lane (from Brighten The Corners), ...and Carrot Rope (from Terror Twilight)

Arcade Fire

A more recent example, yes, and a band (one hopes) still relatively early into their career, but the Arcade Fire solved the quite enviable problem of how exactly do you should follow up one of the defining debut albums of the last decade. Whilst Neon Bible was perhaps a minor misstep, this year's The Suburbs re-affirmed them as critical darlings by stripping away much of the  previous bombast, and delivering a set of songs with a clearly realised concept that sounded all the better in one another's company. And #1 positions on both sides of the Atlantic confirmed that it wasn't just critics who were in agreement.

Proof: Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains), Ready To Start (both from the Suburbs)

Fugazi

"Mature" shouldn't even be in the vocabulary of your average hardcore/post-hardcore band - most (Drive Like Jehu, Black Eyes, At The Drive In) burn fast and bright, whilst those that stick around (...Trail Of The Dead) go into a downward spiral. But typically Fugazi (along with perhaps Unwound) are the exception to the rule. Crucially, Fugazi demonstrated that sound experimentation, along with ever-improving musicianship and even a degree of subtlety, didn't have to come at the cost of the band's trademark intensity, and as great as 13 Songs and Repeater are, it's arguably the likes of 1995's Red Medicine and 2001's (probable) swansong The Argument that will remain the band's most enduring classics.

Proof: Fell, Destroyed (from Red Medicine), Full Disclosure (from The Argument)

Nick Cave

Here's another alternative; don't "mature" at all, but revel in your own filth as a dirty old man. If it helps, enlist some of your buddies in a side-project that allows you and your friends to let your hair down, and use that to re-inform and reinvigorate your day-job. That raucous first Grinderman album was swiftly followed by Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!, possibly the most rollicking release in the Bad Seeds catalogue. The release of Grinderman 2 on Monday is a highly anticipated as any Bad Seeds album.

Proof: Get It On (from Grinderman), We Call Upon The Author (from Dig, Lazarus Dig!!!)