Don't be turned off by the below album's creator and title, as there are no buckets of literal ear-gore, just truckloads of sweet, sweet Rhodes, sax, bass, keyboard accouterments, and slo-mo drums.
Bohren & der Club of Gore's Black Earth presents the kind of fine de siècle doomjazz that reminds me of sitting in my car on a rainy night, listening to Portishead, and waiting for the world to end. Y2K never happened, but the music that best reminds me of that time lives on. That's what's most surprising about Black Earth's 2004 release date--it doesn't conjure images of this dark century's greatest boogeymen: terrorists, dirty bombs, and this generation's version of Steve Forbes not being a Presidential candidate joke, but the front-runner. Black Earth instead brings to mind the coolest jazz club that could ever exist, candle-lit, the rainy night outside eternal.
This also means that Black Earth is the rare album that works as background noise for study or work (thus this entry), or for active listening (which my family can attest I've done constantly for the last couple months). Black Earth is the perfect album for winter, and though our two-week Louisiana winter has already come to an end, I'm still listening.
Some Youtube-user of good taste has posted the entire album for anyone's listening pleasure, though if you enjoy it, you should do as I did and purchase it from Amazon, or your own preferred vendor of fine music.
Further Listening Bonus: Bohren's album previous to this, Sunset Mission, is almost as good, though I would advise against the band's later albums, which are strange exercises in minimalistic torture.
DEEPER THOUGHT FOCUS: Upon Reflection, Black Earth would also make for a fine soundtrack to Grim Fandango, though that LucasArts end-of-the-20th-Century-Classic already has its own perfect soundtrack.