The D Man's Favorite Albums of the 21st Century

These albums captured my aesthetic imagination, fixated my devotion, and rewarded listen after listen.  While some of these albums merited inclusion in the best of the 21st Century, others were only middling from a critical perspective.  But the heart loves what it loves, and these records burrowed their way into my life in subtle and profound ways.  Enjoy.



Silver & Gold by Neil Young (2000).

The title track became a lullaby that I have sung to my children literally hundreds of times.  This underrated folk record may not be Uncle Neil's best, but it is sweet and introspective, finding the aging artist in a place of deep contentment with little to prove.



Stephen Malkmus (2001).

The Pavement frontman's first solo album was a deliriously delightful series of guitar doodles and English major drop-out scrawls.  Recency bias should not resign this record to the vacuum of oblivion, though such a fate could have been worthy fodder for a bonus track.

Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots by The Flaming Lips (2002).

A quasi-concept album about a future Japanese girl (with a blackbelt in karate!) who battles pink robots in the face of her likely demise.  After The Lips high-water mark The Soft Bulletin, the Oklahoma weirdos rewarded us with a deeply affecting set of universal humanism.



Demolition by Ryan Adams (2002).

Though not his best record, this follow-up to the superb Heartbreaker and Gold somehow earned a spot in my Honda CRV 6-CD rotation that lasted for years.  A collection of scrappy demos, outtakes, and other experiments showcases a wide-range of Adams' influences from country to punk and folk to rock.



Transatlanticism by Death Cab for Cutie (2003).

Death Cab's last "indie" release on Barsuk is arguably their best record.  An enchanting blend of intimate songwriting and big-hearted hooks, Transatlanticism is still the soundtrack for thousands of sensitive romantics that wrote poetry to their girlfriends and made mixtapes well into college.



Heavier Things by John Mayer (2003).

We loved young John Mayer, then we hated boorish John Mayer, then we forgot about John Mayer for quite awhile, then we realized that John Mayer had turned over a new leaf and was rather enjoyable and still quite talented after all this time.  During that first phase, there was a pocket where tracks like "Clarity" rang loud and true.



It Still Moves by My Morning Jacket (2003).

In the Louisville band's first decade, My Morning Jacket fused Southern rock, country, and psychedelia to arrive at new kind of Americana, especially on this sprawling, guitar-driven record washed in silos of reverb.  There may not be two better open-road songs than "Mahgeetah" and "Golden."



Ghosts of the Great Highway & Tiny Cities by Sun Kil Moon (2003 / 2005).

Mark Kozelek's powerful first record as Sun Kil Moon imagined a hazy world of lost fathers, tragic boxers, and haunted lovers, cast in a nostalgic spell of gorgeously rendered, guitar-drenched folk rock.  His second album then reduced an entire collection of Modest Mouse songs to sparkling acoustic poetry, which ultimately paved the way for some of his finest songwriting on records like April, Admiral Fell Promises, Perils from the Sea, and Benji. 

Riot on an Empty Street & Declaration of Dependence by the Kings of Convenience (2004).

Two soft voices, blended in perfection.  The Kings of Convenience are a way of life, a way of moving through the world, a way of declaring your dependence on each other.  Norway's Erlend Oye and Eirek Glambek Boe are childhood friends that create lovely acoustic records, and their togetherness moved The D Man into an unwavering aesthetic discipleship.  They are currently recording their first album since 2009, and The D Man has never anticipated a record with such restless pining.

In A Safe Place by The Album Leaf (2004).

Jimmy LaValle's largely instrumental album will seep its way into your winter bones.  Recorded in Iceland and produced by Jonsi (Sigur Ros), it is a gorgeous ambient record that seeks to discover the magic teeming just beyond the natural world.

Seven Swans & Illinois by Sufjan Stevens (2004 / 2005).

Sufjan's masterful folk album is an enduring aesthetic triumph, brimming with deep Christian meditations.  On the wonderful track "He Woke Me Up Again," he snaps awake, Spirit-filled, ready to proclaim the holy sound of God's intervening voice.  Sufjan followed this quiet record with his magnum opus Illinois, which is still the only record that has ever kept me from sleeping because of overjoyed excitement.


Nashville by Josh Rouse (2005).

Rouse paid homage to his new digs with this collection of smooth and well-crafted pop songs, tapping into the luster of '70s AM radio.  He later relocated to Spain and inspired substantial listening with record after record of adult contemporary ease.

And the Glass-Handed Kites by Mew (2006).

The Danish band created a dark fantasy kingdom with musical pageantry for everyone.  Epic guitar lines.  Swirling keyboards.  Strange lyrics with over-dramatic song titles.  Soaring melodies sung in the highest of male registers.  Metal heads, indie rockers, and shoegazers rejoiced together.



The End of History by Fionn Regan (2006).

The Irish singer-songwriter's debut features acoustic tracks that are at once forlorn and beautiful.  The elliptical simplicity of his lyrics spin gold on "Be Good or Be Gone," "Put A Penny in the Slot," and the utterly timeless "Abacus."

Night Falls Over Kortedela by Jens Lekman (2007).

Our favorite Swedish troubadour's bittersweet brand of literate whimsy set listeners aloft.  Bright and brilliant, blissfully melodic, Lekman's sample-laden chamber pop (packed with guitars, pianos, horns, and strings) will make you laugh and cry at the same time, and his triumphs and heartbreaks will make you want to explore his wonderful catalog.

Two Suns by Bat for Lashes (2009).

Bat for Lashes' second album lights up a lush underworld of lullabies, dreams, and dirges.  Natasha Khan's subterranean voice floats over, through, and around seriously striking songwriting.  "Daniel" is one of the The D Man's all-time favorite songs, striking up a long-running love affair with the British artist.

Gemini by Wild Nothing (2010).

Wild Nothing's dreamy, shoegaze guitar-pop hints at the ineffable.  Gemini is awash with starry-eyed synths, crystalline guitars, and wistful atmospherics, re-imagining a vein of iridescent '80s pop music, where the answers just lead to more questions.  Jack Tatum's debut led to the stunning follow-up Nocturne and endless listening for The D Man.



Celebration Rock by Japandroids (2012).

There is no need to psychoanalyze one of the best rock albums in recent years.  If they try to slow you down, tell them all to go to hell.  The line sums up the ethos of Vancouver duo Brian King and David Prowse: go hard or go home.  And if you go home, your mates will come and get you out of bed and have you partying again to fist-pumping excess.



The Ghost of the Mountain by Tired Pony (2013).

While The D Man enjoyed much of Gary Lightbody's work with Snow Patrol, it was the Irishman's two albums of American-inspired folk rock with supergroup Peter Buck (R.E.M.), Richard Colburn (Belle & Sebastian), and Jackknife Lee that captivated years of repeated listens and catapulted him to one of my favorite vocalists.



Emotion by Carly Rae Jepsen (2015).

After her massive hit "Call Me Maybe," Canada's Carly Rae Jepsen somehow became indie's version of a massive pop star.  Emotion is packed with effortless and accessible dance tracks, including arguably the best pop song of the decade, the escapist "Run Away with Me."



Ocean by Ocean by The Boxer Rebellion (2016).

This late-era exercise in soaring Brit pop kept finding its way into The D Man's stream of listening.  At some point, I realized that I loved this straightforward record as much as any competitors worthy of critical acclaim.

Slowdive by Slowdive (2017).

Slowdive's self-titled record straddles time and space.  Having already established themselves as one of the leading lights of shoegaze, and having already recorded three classic albums exploring most of the genre's musical boundaries, the British stalwarts resurfaced in 2017 with dreamy and dissonant textures to rival anything from the band's '90s alt-rock heyday.



Not Even Happiness by Julie Byrne (2017).

Amid stunning and spare production, Not Even Happiness showcases Byrne's expert arrangements, fluid fingerpicking, and gorgeous alto, as she moves through tales that incorporate the land and her traveling spirit, at once earthy and ethereal.  The record alighted like a native bird settling into its habitat, bringing meditative psalms no matter where The D Man went.

The 21 Best Albums of the 21st Century

The D Man's rules were simple.  Twenty-one albums from twenty-one different artists.  Try to fairly cover musical ground from the past two decades.  So Kid A emerged over In Rainbows, Lost in the Dream bested A Deeper Understanding, and Carrie & Lowell quietly slid past Illinois after some crying, etc.  These are the best of the best.  In my next installment, I will highlight my "favorite" records that, although they may not have landed on this list, likewise captured my aesthetic imagination, fixated my devotion, and rewarded listen after listen.

Kid A by Radiohead (2000).

At the turn of the century, Radiohead deconstructed the titanic rock record -- their own! -- and created a post-modern masterpiece: strange, haunting, rhythmically complex, and, somehow, amid the dread of our age, dazzling and beautiful.



Agetis Byrjun by Sigur Ros (2000).

Iceland's Sigur Ros established their near-mythic status with their second album, introducing listeners to sounds they could not have imagined: lush, dissonant, ambient post-rock orchestration helmed by singer Jonsi Birgisson's otherwordly vocals and cello-bowed guitarwork.  With songs that seem to reinvent the natural world, this record is the band's perfect distillation: beautiful, forlorn, and epic, conjuring up untold ages of men, ghosts, summers, winters, and suns.



The Moon and Antarctica by Modest Mouse (2000).

Spare, jagged, and roaring with near nihilistic impulses, Modest Mouse's third record can jolt any dead heart back to beating.  Before the band turned Isaac's Brock's frenetic worries into polished, melodic guitar wonders on Good News For People Who Love Bad News, the Washington band struck chord after unnerving chord with the stiff winds howling through this monument of indie rock.



Discovery by Daft Punk (2001).

Daft Punk ruled the planet at the turn of the century and humans were merely automatons programmed to dance to their music.  The  duo of Guy-Manuel de Homem Christo and Thomas Bangalter, preferring anonymous robot personas, stormed the French house scene and ultimately transformed it into epic electronic operas, with a heavily compressed sound and auto-tuned vocals that spawned a million imitators.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco (2002).

The brilliant Chicago band disintegrated while making the record that would come to symbolize a stunning blend of indie-rock experimentation and warm accessibility.  Arguably Wilco's career highlight, the record ranges across off-kilter versions of folk, pop, and rock music.

Funeral by Arcade Fire (2004).

The apotheosis of the first decade's indie-rock obsessions.  Though the record was created in the wake of the death of band member's loved ones, it is brimming with power, hope, danger, and fierce righteousness, seeking connections in the never abandoned: brothers, sisters, friends, truth, and dreams.



Boxer by The National (2007).

We're half awake in a fake empire.  Somewhat chilling, thus begins the sublime Boxer, with Matt Berninger sounding like a fractured, amplified Leonard Cohen, loosely tying together adult threads of love, loss, and alienation.  The record's urban elegance shimmers in the streetlights, rewarding listen after listen with a rich, world-weary texture of chamber-pop, folk, and post-punk, barely eclipsing Alligator's blazing glory by virtue of a longer existential sigh.

Insert Your Favorite Kanye Album [Graduation] (2008).

For many listeners, Kanye's climax (before he was fully Kardash-ified) will be My Dark Twisted Fantasy or Yeezus.  For others, like The D Man, it will be the soul-inflected uplift of his earlier records like The College Dropout and Late Registration.  But the nod here goes to Graduation, arguably the moment he turned into a post-rap global pop star.

Fleet Foxes by Fleet Foxes (2008).

Bursting with baroque pop harmonies seemingly hatched in a forest glen, Fleet Foxes' timeless textures weaved spellbinding melodies into an instant classic.  Flowing hair, beards, vests, goats, acoustics, folk motifs, and four-part a cappellas, the record turned a variety of influences into a unique musical kaleidoscope.  With strains of shape-note singing, Pet Sounds harmonies, gospel, and folk, Robin Pecknold and his mates rolled over hills, woods, and rivers into some kind of Appalachian wonderland.

Teen Dream by Beach House (2010).

Beach House's glimmering dream pop reached light-filled climaxes on the band's third album.  It is a masterpiece of mood and melody, gorgeous and beguiling.  Victoria Legrand's signature organ tones and Alex Scally's rippling guitars are the sonic equivalent of waves breaking on a sun-strewn morning beach, or of lovers holding hands on a lidless night.

Kaputt by Destroyer (2011).

Vancouver's Dan Bejar navigates the backrooms of the world, breathing cinematic life into a modern, urban noir.  An atmosphere of rain-soaked city parks, throbbing nightclubs, and deserted downtown streets is evoked with exquisite language; Bejar's lyrical approach to his cosmopolitan subjects is nothing short of poetry.  Musically, with only a hint of irony, Kaputt melds watery bass lines, smooth jazz, and new wave synths into a lush canvas of scenesters, romantics, and playboys, all of them literate, wry, and wizened.

Bon Iver by Bon Iver (2011).

I can see for miles, miles, miles.  Leave the parenthetical coasts and strike out for the continent.  Consider the wide expanse and the places that unfurl.  Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michicant.  Lisbon, OH.  Winnum, TX.  Calgary.  On Bon Iver's brilliant self-titled album, Justin Vernon sets his earthworn gaze across it all, traveling beyond the unconventional and folk-riddled province of his debut into expansive realms all his own.

Hurry Up, We're Dreaming by M83 (2011).

M83's awesome double album delivered on all of Anthony Gonzelez's promises, demonstrating his mastery of cinematic and cerebral textures, and spinning out gorgeous after gorgeous moment of life-affirming, maximalist pop music.  Led by the still indomitable "Midnight City," cynicism dies in the face of his unyielding sonic optimism.

Modern Vampires of the City by Vampire Weekend (2013).

I still remember my first listen; I swooned.  And I knew immediately I was listening to an American pop classic like Bridge Over Troubled Water.  Whether the realization dawned during the piano in "Hannah Hunt," the guitar breakdown in "Everlasting Arms," or the chorus swells in "Step," I cannot be sure now.  But it was an engrossing feeling, a self-aware recognition of timeless pop genius unfolding in real time.

Benji by Sun Kil Moon (2014).

If albums were contending for the equivalent of the Great American Novel, Benji would be on the shortlist.  A cohesive, thematic whole, it is both a literate masterwork and musical stunner.  Mark Kozelek chronicles his roots in Ohio, his emergence as an artist, and his everyday present, creating a poignant aesthetic with sharp-edged diaries, seemingly tossed off, like a beat poet with a nylon string guitar.

Lost in the Dream by The War on Drugs (2014).

When rock music doubles as spiritual suffering and rejuvenation, it is both surprising and soul stirring.  Guitars and drums and vocals can make listeners feel many things, but when they explore dark personal hallways and illuminate the path of faith, however faint, it is an empathetic, immersive experience.  Lost in the Dream drives through the open-road mist, uncertain but reaching, tapping into a universal vein of heartland rock while sounding generous and cathartic.

Carrie & Lowell by Sufjan Stevens (2015).

Sufjan's quiet and beautiful masterpiece is the sound of allowing grief to run its course before the healing and answers ever come.  It is that space between a broken heart and being bound up again.  It is the wrenching days, months, or years when agony persists and the balm fails to appear.  It is the call of learning to mourn with those that mourn.  (You can read my open letter to Sufjan here).

Currents by Tame Impala (2015).

Currents is a studio album so exquisite, with off-the-chart, hi-fidelity production values, it is hard to believe that mastermind Kevin Parker recorded it by himself in a small shack in Perth, Australia.  While it is a towering recording achievement and an audiophile's daydream, Currents is also an immense pleasure to listen to, as its canyon-sized grooves gloriously run to star-soaked coastlines.



DAMN by Kendrick Lamar (2015).

An experimental fusion of rap, jazz, R&B, and funk music, Kendrick Lamar's third album, To Pimp A Butterfly, soared with his lyric ferocity and timely narratives of black alienation and empowerment, cementing his status as this generation's hip-hop voice of reason and warning.  But The D Man favored the spare and arguably more populist DAMN, with its hard-hitting flows and varied political and personal introspection.



In Colour by Jaime xx (2015).

Panoramic and pristine, In Colour is arguably one of the best house records of all time.  It is a sparkling dance score experienced from great heights, elegant and lavishly produced.  Jamie xx's solo debut arrived after years of curating in-demand DJ sets and helming production of The xx's minimalist records.  In parts nocturnal and noonday, the music is dark hued and glimmering, serving as a grand escape from the glut of meathead EDM that ruled much of the airwaves.



Coloring Book by Chance the Rapper (2016).

Coloring Book is an absolute triumph and easily my favorite rap album since Graduation.  Hailed as a mere "mixtape," its musical ethos spans gospel, R&B, soul, jazz, and spoken word, resulting in a boundary-blurring joy of a record.  Listeners can detect no hypocrisy or exaggeration; Chance's spiritual experience, undoubtedly Christian, shapes his aesthetic worldview as the blessings fall from above, hip-hop hymn after hip-hop hymn.

The 21 Best Concerts of the 21st Century

The D Man attended over 100 shows.  Some great ones do not make this list.  Here are my most memorable and thrilling experiences.

(1)  Sufjan (The Trilogy): Phoenix (Illinois Tour), Salt Lake (Age of Adz Tour), Portland (Carrie & Lowell Tour).  Each show indelible, sublime, and cathartic.

(2) Sun Kil Moon: Randy's Backyard 40th Birthday Party (2010).  The D Man introduced his songwriting hero before Mark Kozelek played a wonderful acoustic set.

(3)  Kings of Convenience: Columbus (Riot on an Empty Street Tour) (2005); Los Angeles (Declaration of Dependence Tour).(2011).  Two soft voices blended in perfect.  After the first show, Erlend danced in the crowd.  After the second, Randy and The D Man hung out with Erlend on the top of an L.A. roof.

(4) Midnight Oil: Orem (Capricornia Tour) (2002).  A mesmerizing set during the band's last North American show for more than 15 years.

(5) The Police: Las Vegas (2007).  The giddy fruition of childhood dreams.

(6) The National: Salt Lake (Trouble Will Find Me Tour) (2013).  A flawless setlist and an inspired Matt Berninger made for a heady experience in the masses under the stars.

(7) Mew: Salt Lake (+ - Tour) (2015).  A magically stunning performance; arena-worthy rock in an intimate venue.

(8)  Fleet Foxes: Salt Lake (Helplessness Blues Tour) (2011).  Gorgeous outdoor summer setting met with equally gorgeous harmonies and musicianship.

(9) Bon Iver: Salt Lake (Bon Iver Tour (2012).  Spine-tingling and life-affirming set from one of the decade's most important artists.

(10) Foo Fighters: Orem (One by One Tour) (2003).  The D Man and Rizzo moshed crazy hard to a throttling set from the always-on-their game live band.

(11) Beck & The Flaming Lips: Salt Lake (2002).  The Lips set included furry animals, bouncing balls, and confetti.  Then the Lips backed up Beck's two-part set of Sea Change strummers and dance-bomb groovers.

(12) Sigur Ros: Salt Lake (Kveikur Tour) (2016).  Otherworldly and magnificent.  How can I ever forget hearing Jonsi live?

(13) Sting & Peter Gabriel: Hollywood Bowl (2016).  I still have chills from seeing "In Your Eyes" and other Gabriel numbers live for the first time.

(14) Arcade Fire: The Forum (Reflektor Tour) (2014).  Shelley and The D Man paired an anniversary trip with an explosive set from the indie rock titans.

(15) Vampire Weekend & Beach House (Contra Tour / Teen Dream Tour) (2010).  A splendid double bill from two of the finest American bands this century.

(16) My Morning Jacket: Salt Lake (Z Tour) (2007).  The D Man went solo to this show and got lost in the shredding.

(17) Modest Mouse: Salt Lake (2009).  Two drummers hammered away as Isaac Brock killed his frenetic and varied vocals track after track.

(18) U2: Salt Lake (360 Tour) (2011).  A huge spectacle that delivered all the feels.

(19) Death Cab for Cutie: Columbus (Transatlanticism Tour) (2004).  A wonderful feeling enveloped the room across the street from my law school.

(19) David Byrne: Salt Lake (American Utopia Tour) (2018).  An impeccably choreographed delight featuring a sprightly Byrne in all his art rock glory.  *Two nineteens, my list!

(20) Future Islands: Salt Lake (Singles Tour) (2014).  Sam Herring's banner year delivered crowd-pleasing moment after moment.

(21) Wilco: Columbus (A Ghost Is Born Tour) (2005).  The D Man and Barn Dog caught the Chicago stalwarts at the height of their powers.