I like a lot of artists (big circle). I love many artists (smaller circle within big circle). I adore and worship at the feet of a few artists; artists that capture my aesthetic imagination in profound and prolonged ways (smallest circle within the two bigger circles). This list captures artists within my two smallest circles.
If you have not engaged with any of the following folks, you are simply missing out. So in alphabetical order, and limited only to artists/bands that have been creative from 2000 to the present, here you go. The short descriptions are hardly necessary. Just listen and explore.*
- Arcade Fire. Blame them (and this majestic song) for all of the awful wordless choruses from crap bands on modern rock radio. Don't blame them for taking their earnest indie rock to the masses--it was a self-fulfilling prophecy bound to happen.
- Band of Horses. Hello, we're Band of Horses, and we're from America. Ben Bridwell's concert introduction (the best I've ever heard) concisely describes the band's reverb-turned-wide-open indie rock style.
- Beach House. Victoria Legrand's vocals and keyboards mesmerize while Alex Scally's riddling guitars round out the Baltimore band's swirling, dreamy confections.
- Bon Iver. From the woods of Wisconsin (For Emma, Forever Ago) to wide-screen continental grandeur (Bon Iver), Justin Vernon's first two albums with his formidable band are already American classics.
- Daft Punk. Robots? I'm in.
- Destroyer. Kaputt is one of my favorite albums of all time. Desert island stuff for sure, even if it takes you through the backrooms of the world. Enter through the exit, and exit through the entrance when you can.
- The Flaming Lips. She's a black-belt in karate! Whoo whoo!
- Fleet Foxes. These sly guys do throwback better than almost all of the throwbacks.
- Jens Lekman. This sensitive Swedish troubadour blends heartbreak and humor like no one else. Receiving haircuts at illicit Iraqi barbershops. Making hospital runs after missing the avocado with a knife. Rating women while driving dilapidated European cars. The splendid list goes on and on. So ask yourself, what would Jens do?
- Kanye West. Even if his more recent fare (or public persona) is not your thing, it is difficult to deny the soul-bared pleasures of The College Dropout, Late Registration, and Graduation.
- Kings of Convenience. Two soft voices, blended in perfection. Easily one of my all-time favorite musical endeavors.
- Modest Mouse. Hardscrabble vocal theatrics and brilliantly off-kilter guitars have always accentuated Isaac Brock's near nihilistic poetry. Dark tragicomedy hailing from the Northwest.
- My Morning Jacket. Nothing quite like Jim James in a poncho, shredding on his flying-V. Have I mentioned that "Magheetah" and "Golden" may be two of the best open-road tracks of all time?
- M83. Starry-eyed electro-pop that is gloriously intertwined with American nostalgia and optimism. Anthony Gonzalez's records have been a staggering achievement for a small-town French kid.
- The National. Stay inside our rosy-minded fuzz for days. Four elegant rock albums in a row: Alligator. Boxer. High Violet. Trouble Will Find Me.
- Radiohead. From the millennial masterpiece Kid A to the beautiful colors of In Rainbow, Thom Yorke and friends would still be rock legends for their post-2000 output alone, to say nothing of the band's titanic 90s albums The Bends and OK Computer.
- Ryan Adams. The D Man is tired of hearing about Adams's prolific output and inability to self-edit. The man is a brilliant singer-songwriter. Please keep it coming.
- Sigur Ros. One can only use the same descriptors that thousands of others have used: otherworldly, forlorn, beautiful.
- Sufjan Stevens. When I first picked up Illinois, these piano lines kept me up the entire night. I couldn't sleep. I rolled around in my bed. So mystified and thrilled, so beholden to a monumentally original record. And I was receiving chills even a dozen listens in to "The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades is Out to Get Us!" (I should also mention my early love affair with the quiet folk hymns of Seven Swans, arguably the most overlooked (and finest) Christian recording of the new millennium. And then there was that gloriously cathartic Age of Adz concert!
- Sun Kil Moon. Mark Kozelek is currently the best singer-songwriter alive. Ghosts of the Great Highway. Tiny Cities. April. Admiral Fell Promises. Benji. His lyrical artistry seems to have no end.
- Vampire Weekend. Pure pop genius. You've heard these guys.
- The War on Drugs. Lost in the Dream is one of the best American rock records of the past 15 years.
- The White Stripes. In the event you have forgotten: it's fact that I'm a seventh son.
- Wilco. I discovered Being There and Summerteeth post-2000; I enjoyed the accessible racket of dumped-by-a-big-label Yankee Hotel Foxtrot; and I experienced the band at their height during a Columbus concert (with Barndog) for A Ghost Is Born.
- Wild Nothing. I have been listening to Jack Tatum's band (seriously non-stop) since the release of 2011's Gemini and 2012's Nocturne. Wild Nothing is the sound of the band I never formed. Dreamy. Sepia-toned. Perfect.
*Sincere apologies to Andrew Bird, Bat for Lashes, Death Cab for Cutie, Iron & Wine, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, Josh Rouse, and numerous others.
