Please see my full review here.

Though this one doesn’t quite rival the first three incredible albums they made in the ’00s (yes, I am including 2003’s much-maligned and quite underrated Summer Sun), I like this one way more than 2009’s Popular Songs. Don’t expect punishing guitar noise or even anything upbeat at all here, though. This is an adult record made by an adult band. It’s as if everything they have learned from Lambchop has finally come to the surface instead of only occasionally poking out. It will take many listens to fully sink in, but it is well worth it.

Though not as consistent of a listen as most of the other albums honored here, songs as strong as “Calendar Days” and “Bondi 98” absolutely merit attention and thus the inclusion of this undeservedly obscure Melbourne, Australia band’s third Lp. You will rarely hear a better take on the ’80s Flying Nun sound, but get past the first few songs (one a Belle and Sebastian sound-a-like and the other a riff on The Chills‘ “Doldrums”) as well as some filler in the middle and you will hear gorgeous shimmering indie-pop ala The Bats and maybe even The Go-Betweens all throughout the 34-minutes here.

Here is another one that I underrated earlier in the year, but that was grown on me considerably. Unlike 2008’s Dig, Lazarus, Dig! and the two records these folks released as Grinderman, this is a return to the slow as molasses, ominous and intense singer-songwriter side of Nick Cave. Seedy and desolate doesn’t even begin to describe the feel here. The folks in his songs are broken beyond repair and dancing alone at the edge of the world (to quote Wax Idols‘ “When It Happens”). Perhaps not having Mick Harvey around has made a difference, as has the inclusion of Barry Adamson after a long absence, but regardless if you like this side of Cave and not just the louder one, you owe it to yourself to check this out.

This list is full of albums that didn’t immediately grab me, but have grown on me over time and will hopefully continue to do so. This is far from Neko’s best (that would still be 2002’s impeccable Blacklisted, perhaps my favorite record of this century so far), but it’s another fine effort. I get goosebumps every time the harmony vocals come in on the otherwise bare “Nearly Midnight, Honolulu,” and am moved by the beautiful singing and writing on “Night Comes Out” and “I’m From Nowhere”, among many other fine tunes here.

While not technically comprised of new material, this is a 2013 release, so I am including it year. What it is, though, is an extraordinary and well-recorded live document of the most recent lineup (it’s a New Years Eve show from 2011) of the Martin Phillipps-led Chills, who have been a band in one form or another for almost 35 years. The versions of old ’80s and ’90s classics here frequently equal and sometimes better the originals, the main difference being the ferocity of the playing (always a trait of The Chills’ live sets even back in the day), enabling the garage rock energy hidden in the glossier studio productions to shine through. Just take a listen to the new versions of “House with a Hundred Rooms” or “Part Past Part Fiction” (just to name a few) and prepare to fall in love with this band all over again.

I loved last year’s eponymous debut Lp by this great New York/Philadelphia band and thought that this would make my Top 10. I thought that based upon the songs they released before it came out, going further into ’90s indie-rock territory and away from their basement punk roots would benefit them. Alas, it’s not quite as strong overall in terms of the songwriting and the slightly cleaner sound doesn’t really benefit them, either. Perhaps this was a case of too many cooks in the kitchen, with 3 members (instead of just 2 on the last record, which was dominated by the lead vocals of Allison Crutchfield and augmented by Kyle Gilbride‘s vocal turns) taking songwriting and vocal turns, but it sounds a bit uneven and unfocused on occasion. With all that said, they are still a really good band and some of the songs here are really top-notch and deserving of many spins. Among these are opener “Dust in the Gold Sack,” “Unwanted Place” and the closing “Curdled.” I just hope album number 3 is better!

Perhaps it’s inevitable that as good as this record is, it would be a disappointment, even for those like myself who really like it, as nothing could top 1991’s Loveless. The 22 year wait also didn’t help matters in that regard, but judged on its own merit, this is a really good record. I’m probably in the minority on this, but I think that the record (which can be divided into thirds as it is nine songs long) is strongest in its more atmospheric second third. In fact, “Is This and Yes” is one of my favorite songs of theirs period. That isn’t to say, though, that the other two thirds aren’t worthwhile, as the first third hews towards the EPs they made before Loveless and the last third ushers in a heavier, slightly more experimental sound that seems influenced by ’90s drum and bass.

On their sixteenth studio album, Bad Religion don’t reinvent the wheel, but turn in a more consistent and focused record than 2010’s occasionally great The Dissent of Man. At 16 songs in slightly over 36 minutes, this burns with political conviction, righteous fury at the powers that be, human stupidity and other societal ills, all anchored by their trademark harmonies and the soaring pipes of Greg Graffin. My favorite track on there, though, just might the Brett Gurewitz lead vocal “Dharma and the Bomb.”

Five years is a long time for a follow-up to 2008’s See You in Magic, but with Speedo also reuniting Hot Snakes (and more recently Rocket from the Crypt) and running Swami Records, the delay is understandable. Regardless, at first I wasn’t that into it as it wasn’t as immediate as their debut. After a while, though, songs like “Loud, Dumb and Mean,” “Big in Germany” and especially the boisterous “(Wasting Away in) Javalinaville” just weaved their way into my subconscious.