The Top 50 Albums of the 2000s: 30-26

30 | RED HOUSE PAINTERS Old Ramon
Sup Pop, 2001

DOWNLOAD | “Smokey”

Old Ramon was the final Red House Painters full-length before Mark Kozelek retired the alias, and it’s easy to see why: the name had a lot of baggage attached to it by 2001. So compared to the early records on 4AD — essentially reverb-drenched, glacially-paced epic songs about death and San Francisco — this album is almost optimistic. “Byrd Joel” and “Michigan” puts forth the suspicion that Kozelek is in love again, while “Smokey” makes elegant peace with the mortal sentiments of Red House past: “It ain’t contrived, all the magic in our lives / Comes down like a storm, then drizzles, then dies.” It’s fucking beautiful.

29 | NADA SURF Let Go
Barsuk, 2002

VIDEO | “Inside of Love”

If we’re going to be honest, we’d have to admit that before Let Go, Nada Surf were best known for being one of a million ’90s alternative rock bands that shot a music video in a high school in order to use a hackneyed cheerleader trope. It would have been a terrible way to be remembered, which is why — six years after achieving their first and only MTV staple — it was all the more remarkable that they reinvented themselves as instant heritage artists. Let Go sealed the decade for Nada Surf: no longer were they one-hit wonders, they were respected songwriters and resilient indie rock heroes. The best part of their story is that — with each successively credible album — they’ve strongly held onto this mantle ever since.

28 | FLOPPY SOUNDS Short Term Memories
Wave Music, 2002

DOWNLOAD | “Late Night”

Rob Rives is probably best known for his work with legendary DJs and producers like François K and Danny Tenaglia, but 2002’s Short Term Memories confirmed what many of us already presumed: Rives was more than just an engineer, but an essential architect of the New York house sound. This blueprint — a dark blend of techno, dub, and the seedier side of New York’s gay house clubs — paved the way for an entire style of club music that, as is the case with most American house and techno, eventually got co-opted and reimagined by the British only to be praised and rejected within the cycle of one Mixmag subscription. Rives, for his part, hasn’t lost the plot. A recent review of his latest project, Phantom Power, describes his work as something that “would fit right in at your more liberal S&M clubs.” I’ve never been, but that sounds awesome.

27 | PINBACK Summer in Abaddon
Touch & Go, 2004

VIDEO | “AFK”

I slept on Pinback for a long time, most likely because back in the mid-’90s, when I was publishing Anti-Matter, it seemed like Cargo Records sent over a forgettable new Three Mile Pilot or Heavy Vegetable record every other month. (Looking at their discographies now, I realize this isn’t even possible.) With that in mind, listening to Summer in Abaddon for the first time was something like finding out that the awkward cross-eyed kid you tripped in high school went on to be Thom Yorke. It’s the kind of left-of-center pop record that most people will find decipherable; a carefully edited revision of every unfocused notion Rob Crow and Zach Smith explored in the prior decade. It’s also the only album on this list that incurs a debt to both Jane’s Addiction and Slint — often at the same time.

26 | THE UPPER ROOM Other People’s Problems
Sony, 2006

DOWNLOAD | “Your Body”

Right away, my experience with the Upper Room was one of obsession: An industry sampler featuring their first single, “All Over This Town,” reached my hands in late 2004; by early 2005, I was on a record store tour of London on a reconnaissance mission to find anything by this band. (I came home with nothing.) Having become so entirely fixated on the band because of this one song, it was a relief to discover that the Upper Room’s debut album — released in May of 2006 — delivered on the promise of that first single. Other People’s Problems is a tidy, if not conspicuously flawless collection of three-and-a-half minute pop songs — the kind of debut album that precedes only one of two possible ensuing results. The Upper Room were either about to become the biggest band in the U.K., or they were going to break up six months later. It didn’t take long to find out which route they’d chosen.