The Nicsperiment's Top Nine Albums of 2004 (Redux)

And my Top Albums of the Year Redux series begins. I've decided to go back to every year since 1999 and create a Top Nine Albums of the Year list. I created a list for '04-'05 and '08-'22 here at the end of each of those respective years, so I'll be doing an updated entry for each of those. These entries will be divided into three sections.
A. The Redux List
B. The Original List (when applicable)
C. A Quick Postmortem
I'm excited to finally hit those years I missed, as well as revisit the years where I've already made lists, to see how my opinion has changed. This is all part of a bigger project I am calling DO I STILL LOVE THIS?
I've decided to start back at the beginning, so here is the redux for 2004, the first list I ever did here, way back on December 31, 2004, just a few weeks after I graduated from college. From here on out, the order that I tackle each respective year will be completely random.
Please remember musical preferences are completely subjective. Oh, and ties...they're legal!

The Redux List:

9. Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-La-La Band -- The "Pretty Little Lightning Paw" E.P.

Every time I've had Pretty Little Lightning Paw playing in my car, my different passengers have scrunched up their faces and said "What is this?!" and most definitely never with, "So I can get this album for myself," implied to follow. This Godspeed You! Black Emperor offshoot's vocalist sings in an off-pitch, apocalyptic preacher twang, and if legend is believed, he recorded this album off a boombox playing the original one-take recordings. However, these long, winding musical passages and their strings and keys and traditional rock instruments and field recordings and distortions and static from some fantastical realm all feed into some sort of dark fanatical warning from the future, or maybe just encouragement from the dystopic present, I don't know, it just burrows directly into my dopamine centers, and even if I don't know a single other fan of this very much a full-length EP in real life, and even if my attempt to describe it make absolutely no sense, I love it.


TIE 8. Sufjan Stevens -- Seven Swans  

By this point, this dude has made a lot of music, some of it very noisy and modern, and received a lot of acclaim, but I've found myself coming back to this haunting, biblically-centered, low-key folk album more than any of his other work...which is a bit ironic, considering my musical tastes have only gotten heavier in the last 18 years.


TIE 8. TV on the Radio -- Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes

This is an experimental, relatively chill rock album, where every song somehow feels warm and familiar, thanks to the miraculous way the warm and sometimes jovial nature of the vocals and lyrics overlay perfectly on top of the icy cold textures of the music. Plus, the harmonies here are phenomenal. Starting to think this may now be my favorite of these now retired dudes five albums.


7. Dead Poetic -- New Medicines 

I can't believe how well this album has aged. This kind of dynamic hard rock was looked down upon at the time, likely because of reviewer biases due to the presence of screaming, and the fact that the band was on a record label affiliated with Christianity. In 2022, with any hint of bias or fad stripped away, the skill of the musicians, particularly the drummer, and the strength of the songwriting, particularly in the power of the memorable hooks, which don't overly verge into pop territory, are timeless. I bumped out Interpol's media-approved Antics for this, as New Medicines is more skillfully played, more imaginatively written, with even lyrics and vocals that shine far brighter than those found on Antics. I recently acquired New Medicines on vinyl, and between that version and the digital one, I've listened to this album more in the last few years than right after I bought the CD back in 2004.


6. mewithoutYou -- Catch for Us the Foxes 

I wasn't sure how to genre this when it made my original list 18 years ago. Art-punk tinged hard rock? I still have no idea, but Catch for Us the Foxes doesn't feel a day old, the rainy autumn textures intact, punchy production incredible, the songwriting, which often allows for reflective outros, still works wonderfully, and Aaron Weiss' poetic lyrics and caterwauling spoken word/screamed/and sometimes sung vocals still hit. mewithoutYou are wrapping up their stunning career, and apart from that weird folk one, just about all of their albums are great albums, but Catch for Us the Foxes is still the standout.


5. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds -- Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus

This double-album was my first Nick Cave full-length (before this, I'd just listened to singles), and it wowed me back in 2004, with Cave's expansive, mythological lyrics spilling out like literature, and the two discs distinctive moods, the more uproarious and rocking, but sometimes meditative and hypnotic Abattoir Blues and the more meditative and hypnotic , but sometimes uproarious and rocking The Lyre of Orpheus. I'd wondered if I'd be a little more critical of this album now, as I was far more apt to get swept away by critical adoration for something as a 23-year-old than I am now as a 40-year-old, and surprise, surprise, I do now feel like this album has a flaw: the double-LP length feels just a bit overindulgent. Between both, there are most definitely four or five songs that could have been left on the cutting room floor, creating a still sprawling, but more listenable album experience (2004 me would be surprised to know I've come back to Cave's Murder Ballads, now my favorite of his albums, far more than this one over the years). I can also now see that Cave's lyrics here that I thought were alluding to spirituality and God are aimed...well, let's just say a lot lower than that. Still, this is a phenomenal album, and even if I don't quite think it is as great as I once did, there's no way I'd keep it off this list.


4. The Album Leaf -- In A Safe Place

Of all the albums on my original list, I would have thought In a Safe Place would be the most disposable. I guess I bought into that narrative of damning Jimmy LaValle's third album as The Album Leaf with faint praise from the 2004 music press. Listening now, though, I can see exactly why I put In a Safe Place on the list. Sure, the album is full of a beautiful and comforting, mostly instrumental blend of organic, electronic, and ambient music, but there's a lot of emotion here, and really a perfectly crafted emotional arc that does touch on some bleaker feelings before its conclusion. Perhaps that arc has helped In A Safe Place stand the test of time, but whatever the reason, this album has aged like a fine wine in a gorgeous Icelandic cellar.


3. Drive-by Truckers -- The Dirty South

I first encountered DBT in the fall of '04, when they played The Dirty South's "Never Gonna Change" on Conan, but I didn't hear the full album until several years later. Since then, I've listened to this standout work from Southern Rock's Beatles more times than I can count, each song a gritty, supremely engaging story, with the riffs somehow matching the wordplay in an album that feels like home.


2. The Cardigans -- Long Gone Before Daylight

I can tell from my original #1 ranking for Long Gone Before Daylight in 2004 that I was very much moved by its "it's okay to have no idea what you are doing" theme at that point in my life. That likely heightened my enjoyment of the album, but listening now, I'm surprised by just how lovely and comforting it is. The Swedish pop-rock band tinge their sound with 70's country and even a few 70's R&B textures, to create a warm, enveloping sound, that feels like falling into a soft bed in the morning after a long night out, knowing you've got the day off. The songwriting is near flawless, and Nina Persson's charming voice rings out like a witty bell. I should note, this was released in 2003 in Sweden and several other parts of the world, but didn't hit America (and my American ears) until 2004, with three extra tracks that softly light the candles on this already ornately decorated musical cake.


1. Demon Hunter -- Summer of Darkness

Since May of 2004, I haven't listened to many albums more than I have Demon Hunter's epic Summer of Darkness. I gave a special mention to this album at the end of my original 2004 list, and I have to wonder if I put this album there instead of in the list itself because I was ashamed of it. Something I've realized since 2004: any newer genre will be looked down upon by the older guard. 2000's Rolling Stone writers would give a future classic a mediocre review because it didn't sound like the music the Rolling Stone writers grew up listening to. This attitude would then filter down to younger reviewers, ala 2004 The Nicsperiment, who would more highly rank more "accepted" music like...well like the Nick Cave album Summer of Darkness pushed back on this new, updated list. The fact of the matter is, this is my music. How strong are these feelings?

This is music for me now, and this is music for the 22-year-old me of 2004, who in 2022, as opposed to most of his 2004 friend group, still loves heavy music more than any other genre, still has the same religious faith, still battles his inner darkness, and still loves this album. I look at the "metalcore" tag Summer of Darkness has versus the "heavy metal" one that Slipknot, this band's most similar musical contemporary has, knowing full well that the only reason Demon Hunter has the more "derogatory" genre listing is due to the band's open profession of faith (Slipknot's excellent Vol. 3 (The Subliminal Verses) was also released in 2004, and barely missed this list (it's, ironically, a little too bloated)). Even a cursory listen to Summer of Darkness will reveal the incredible skill level of every musician, vast creativity in the songwriting and structure, in a genre that most definitely cannot be pigeon-holed as "metalcore." The originality and quality of this music is not only buoyed by Ryan Clark's well-sung and well-screamed simultaneously poetic and blunt lyrics (the demons here are mostly metaphysical...mostly), but by the fact that the band employ the incredibly skillful Jesse Sprinkle to drum here, when Sprinkle, a "feel" drummer if there ever was one, generally doesn't play metal. The result is a sound that's completely original, not only to the rest of the music scene, but to Demon Hunter's own impressive discography (Sprinkle also drummed on their debut, but split after this album). This should have been my number one on my original 2004 list, but at least I can rectify that now. I've got the front cover tattooed on my left forearm, and I can say without question, my favorite musical release of 2004 is Demon Hunter's Summer of Darkness.


And here's my 2004 original list, with brief comment.

Original Ranking:

9. Me Without You -- Catch for Us the Foxes -- I might have formatted their band name wrong in 2004 (and I kept it wrong in this paragraph to suit), but I like this album just as much as I did then, and it made the cut!
8. Interpol -- Antics -- This really is a solid mid 00's rock album. It doesn't touch their debut, but it doesn't make my ears bleed either. It's got stronger tracks (mostly in the middle). It's got weaker tracks (mostly at the end). It's fine.
7. Björk -- Medúlla -- The nearly all acapella (even the beats) experimentation here leads to some great, atmospheric, medieval sounding songs, but the entirety of the album is a bit exhausting. This album reminds me a lot of my awesome autumn of 2004, and I do enjoy it quite a bit for the most part, but it's tough in one go.
6. The Album Leaf -- In a Safe Place -- Congratulations, you made the cut!
5. Project 86 -- Songs to Burn Your Bridges By -- I loved this album for a long time, but in recent years, I've noticed a few chinks in its armor, namely a bit of a lull in its final third.
4. U2 -- How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb -- This has turned out to be my least favorite U2 album up until the lousy Songs Of Experience in 2017. Dismantle has a few good songs, but it's mostly a whole lot of nothing, and this should have never made my list in the first place.
3. Mum -- (Will the) Summer Make Good (For All of Our Sins?) -- A very cinematic album, evocative of being lost on some haunted, forlorn, and rocky seashore, but it's got a bit too much empty filler.
2. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds -- Abattoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus -- Not as great as I once thought is still good enough.
1. The Cardigans -- Long Gone Before Daylight -- I still adore this album, but I've listened to Summer of Darkness over it 3-to-1 in the last 18 years.


Postmortem:

Well, four out of the original 2004 nine made the cut for the new list. Maybe my musical taste has changed more than I thought. Then again, some of the new additions are albums I at least mentioned at the end of the original list back in 2004. I wonder if my other original lists will fare better or worse than that one did? To close, below are some quick comments on noteworthy albums that didn't make either of my 2004 lists.
There were a couple of pop-punk albums I really like from 2004. I hate Green Day, but American Idiot really moved me, particularly with its two huge, shifty, nine-minute songs, and its quasi-concept album nature. I identified with the album protagonist a lot in 2005, when I was unemployed and living with my parents after college, but the concept doesn't hold together as well now that I've got some distance. The album also definitely has some laggy moments I didn't notice as much at first. Still really good, and the only album of Greenday's that I like. The other pop-punk album I liked, Relient K's Mmhmm, features some great songwriting and quite diverse instrumentation for the genre, though don't listen to Matt Theissen's opinion on anything here, especially romantic relationships because it's mostly terrible. Blindside's 2004 album, About a Burning Fire, is not terrible, but due to its inconsistency and lack of cohesion, its my least favorite of their post-Solid State albums. I also really like, actually love Further Seems Forever's swansong, Hide Nothing. Jon Bunch's lyrics shift from the previous albums' and frontmen's girl-focused songs, to something cosmic, and the band respond in kind, with more ethereal sounding jams under his soaring voice. Bunch's 2016 suicide recontextualizes the hope he espouses on Hide Nothing into something longed for instead of something held. I wish Bunch was still here, but like 2004 itself, at least he left a hell of a record behind.

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