Our favorite Twin Cities albums of 2010
Coming up with and ranking (and re-ranking) top 10 lists is a time-consuming process. In fact, it takes so much time that if we had to create a be-all, end-all best-of-2010 list that we could truly be happy with, it probably wouldn’t be finished until around April. So we set up a simpler task for our local A.V. Club writers: Pick a favorite local release. Just one. Here’s the shortlist.
The Book Of Right On, All These Songs About Music (Half Door Records)
For years now, David Joe Holiday has been one of the Twin Cities music scene’s most consistently compelling creative forces. But the propulsive, controlled chaos of his songwriting has been matched by an inability to keep a band together, with both Kentucky Gag Order and Belles Of Skin City breaking up just when they were starting to show their potential. With any luck, the third time will be the charm, because the Holiday-fronted Book Of Right On has all the elements that made his old projects great: complex, intricate polyrhythmic percussion, a sly sense of humor, and plenty of head-pounding, punk-rock power. [Christopher Bahn]
Grant Cutler & The Gorgeous Lords, self-titled EP (self-released)
Sad as it was to see the members of Lookbook go their separate ways just when they seemed to be on the cusp of breaking through into national prominence, the demise of the electro-pop duo paved the way for Grant Cutler’s solo project to step into the limelight. This humble, stately EP is as cushy and generous as Lookbook could be spiky and frenetic, and Cutler shows off his Matt Berninger-esque baritone throughout, in sharp contrast to the keening wail he deployed in his previous project. The Gorgeous Lords are no slouches either, featuring members of The Plastic Constellations, Lazer Forever, Askeleton, and what feels like a dozen other Twin Cities mainstays. Add in vocal support from Zoo Animal’s Holly Newsom and you’ve got one of the most delicate, elegantly crafted chamber-pop releases in recent memory. [Steve McPherson]
Dark Dark Dark, Bright Bright Bright (Supply And Demand Music)
Dark Dark Dark’s recent album Wild Go has garnered plenty of radio play, but that’s no reason to overlook the band’s miniature March release, Bright Bright Bright. The aptly named, six-song EP felt like an arrival of sorts, a full realization of the group’s French cafe/chamber/folk aesthetic and the possibilities therein. Balancing their signature Gorey-esque existential gloom with an energetic, childlike humor, Nona Marie Invie and her players maintain a smart spaciousness in their old-worldly musicianship (even on the tracks that include a small choir of voices). Not bad for such a wee record. [Maggie Ryan Sandford]
Dessa, A Badly Broken Code (Doomtree Records)
As the only woman in Doomtree, Dessa displays female solidarity and swagger on songs like the single “Dixon’s Girl.” Mostly, though, her debut full-length’s themes are universal: Complicated family relationships, regret for lost love, and hometown pride are spun into dense lyrics sung and rapped over mournful beats. Dessa’s style of hip-hop is melodic and introspective, burning slow and digging deep. A Badly Broken Code is a dark and many-layered journey, but Dessa strides through with her cigarettes-and-red-wine voice, emerging as a genre-stretching force to be reckoned with. [Colleen Powers]
Kanser, Two For One (Interlock Records)
Loved for the wit bubbling out of his lazy Minneapolis drawl, Zachariah Combs never strains for a punch line, trusting that whatever comes up will come out right—and if not, you know what he meant. Which is why “Footsteps,” though less artful than Dessa’s “Alibi” or Eminem and Rihanna’s “Love The Way You Lie,” is more horrifying: so blunt about paternal abuse that he barely bothers to rhyme. That ease, matched by the zestful singing of Alicia Steele, pervades the first half of Kanser’s miniature Speakerboxxx/The Love Below, which gives way in its second half to more zest: Unicus paying tribute to what he loves about music and hip-hop in that order, his infectious sing-quack set to a sinewy dancehall-reggae of the mind. Typically, this career peak was barely announced to the press. [Peter S. Scholtes]
Jeremy Messersmith, The Reluctant Graveyard (Princess Records)
Jeremy Messersmith has a knack for immediately likeable melodies that are gentle and warm, a cuddly hug of a sound that he even managed to apply to a whole album about death. The Reluctant Graveyard’s characters aren’t all past their expiration dates just yet, but they’re in various stages of living, whether they’re sleeping their time away or speeding through it on the lam. But ultimately, the '60s-inspired album can be summed up by the coda of “Death Bed Salesman”: “This is how it has to end, so love somebody while you can,” a message that’s no less sweet when used as a casket hawker's sales pitch. [Lindsey Thomas]
