Feature by InRO Staff: Our staff is only so big and the year so long that we tend to miss stuff worthy of our attention, whether that be to praise or condemn it. As we did last year, our staff has scanned the past 12 months for select films and albums that escaped the full review treatment, and considers them here.

The second of our two While We Were Sleeping features (here’s the first) focuses on the albums, including two kinda-like-a-big-deal hip-hop records we slept on, a deluge of Next Big Thing British artists we still don’t get the hype around, and a whole bunch of very white indie rock—because, y’know, we’re all white. Sam C. Mac

Clipse

Til the Casket Drops (2009)

Coke rap storytellers the Clipse released two of the decade's best hip-hop records. Born of a need to overcome various adversities and exemplifying a hunger so vital to the genre, 2005's We Got it for Cheap Vol. 2 mixtape and 2006's career-peak Hell Hath No Fury are towering examples of a consistency hip-hop too frequently lacks. Brothers Pusha T and Malice spit fierce, uncompromising rhymes, and their gritty delivery found the perfect aesthetic in the Neptunes dark brew of glitch and synth beat-making. That was then, this is now: Clipse's record label trouble—the fuel in Hell Hath's fire—is largely behind them, and they've achieved a level of critical acclaim that's brought out the uglier side of their cockiness. The point being that Pusha and Malice aren't the righteously angered roughnecks we knew from Hell Hath—they're far more complacent. For that matter, Neptunes posterboy Pharrell seems to have lost the spark in his eye as well, content to recycle the same formula ad infinitum. Appropriately enough, Til the Casket Drops, the Clipse's third official album and first to open up production duties to collaborators outside the Neptunes, is an unabashed bid for commercial reverence (Clipse singles haven't charted in a significant way since "Grindin'" off their 2002 debut), a calculated celebration of past successes free of the anger found on every prior Clipse release. And it's precisely as boring as that sounds.

When Casket finally dropped in early December (pushed back since August), bad vibes from widely panned leaks "I'm Good" and the Keri Hilson featuring "Eyes on Me" still lingered. Album opener "Freedom" tries its hardest to make you forget all that though, representing the record's high point by some distance: Clipse resuscitate chipmunk soul for the track's titular chorus, and producers Sean C & LV pile swagger-rich rock riffs atop skittering drum machines. The song features perhaps Malice's career-best verse (highlight: "never to return Malicious has been refined/like wine i get better with time/not for valley vintage my flow has been fermented") and climaxes in a storm of shredding guitars and insistent strings. It's a celebratory moment that earns the right to celebration. Unfortunately, it's followed by a gaggle of stock Neptunes productions wrought with consumerist boasting  painfully out of step with the present economy. Pusha is the greatest offender in this sense, riffling through the high-end brand names on his shopping list throughout "Eyes on Me" (Gucci, Louis) and concluding "See them dollar signs is why they hate me." His arrogance is the worst kind; when he guilelessly proclaims "My critics finally have a verse of mine to jerk off to," there's none of the insecure subtext which colors, say, Kanye West's music. Casket is a folly, but its luke warm reception may be the wake-up call Clipse need to keep their career from an early grave. Sam C. Mac

Real Estate

Real Estate (2009)

Released late in the year, Real Estate’s self-titled debut still managed to garner its fair share of acclaim. It’s not difficult to hear why; the New Jersey natives play sunny, unpolished indie-rock with a slight 60s vibe that’s easy on the ears and the mind, and they hit a few definite highs with tunes like first single “Beach Comber,” and equally great “Fake Blues.” Over the course of an album, however, their limited range and relaxed, easy-going vibe begins to melt together until it becomes difficult to distinguish where one song ends and another begins, resulting in a record that contains hints of their potential but isn’t especially memorable in its own right. However, Real Estate seem to have the start of something here, and their sense of melody and style isn’t to be overlooked. Give them a year or two to refine their craft and I’m betting we get something really great from these guys. Chris Nowling

Florence + The Machine

Lungs (2009)

Nominated for the Mercury Prize and reaching the second spot on the U.K. charts this year, Florence Welch—and her revolving cast of supporting musicians known as The Machine—made an enormous impact overseas with their striking debut, Lungs. Unfortunately known best for obnoxious first single, “Kiss With a Fist,” Lungs actually has much, much more to offer, comprised mostly of soaring epics that showcase Welch’s considerable vocal ability and her band’s talent, providing her with a wide range of musical backdrops. “Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)” and “Cosmic Love” are two clear highlights and good examples of why Welch deserves more attention outside her native England, with choruses so thunderous and fantastical that Natasha Khan must surely be jealous. Combine these moments of spectacular excess with gorgeous ballads like “Between Two Lungs” and you’ve got a recipe for one excellent, if somewhat heavy-handed, introduction to an impressive new talent. Chris Nowling

La Roux

La Roux (2009)

English electronica duo La Roux, comprised of singer Elly Jackson and synth player/producer Ben Langmaid, went platinum in the U.K. this year with their energetic, self-titled debut (which was also nominated for a Mercury Prize). After hearing so much about this album several months ago, I must say I was underwhelmed when I finally sat down with the record, and perhaps my reaction is similar to many of my fellow Americans, who mostly ignored this British sensation. La Roux is definitely not without appeal—it’s consistently danceable and fun, and there are some inspired bits of pop scattered throughout the disc (most notably the sinister single “In for the Kill” and the bright chorus of “Bulletproof” ). Also, the ambitious and outspoken Jackson mostly avoids falling into pop songwriting clichés, an accomplishment considering her age. However, too many of the record’s stylish but similarly-executed tracks fail to distinguish themselves, causing the album to blur together after six or seven songs. Ultimately, there are just too few reasons to return here for more than a couple listens before moving on to the next big thing. Chris Nowling

Vitalic

Flashmob (2009)

We as a staff don’t always get the chance to articulate our feelings about some pretty worthwhile electronic albums and artists. In just the last few months alone we’ve seen some very good under-the-radar work from Luciano (Tribute to the Sun), Way Out West (We Love Machine) and SND (Atavism). And while all of these records are quite different and underrated in their own unique ways, it’s the cross-net lack of recognition for the new record from Vitalic—arguably the most influential electronic producer of the decade—that is most disheartening. Not that this will right that particular wrong or anything, but Flashmob, Pascal Arbez’s follow-up to 2005’s seminal OK Cowboy, deserves a more well-considered reception than the one it received. Ironically, the degree of complacency which marked Flashmob’s arrival is due in no small part to the proliferation of the sound Arbez himself helped pioneer around the turn of the decade. But if this record is simply more of Vitalic’s blown-out distorto-house riffs and filter-disco stylings, than please explain why songs such as “Terminator Benelux” and “Flashmob” shutter with an intensity that I’d venture to guess Justice won’t even be able to conjure with their own sophomore statement. In an effort to curb expectations, Flashmob’s late arrival could be seen as opportunistic capitalization, but there is more than enough here to reiterate whose touch is all over modern house and hopefully plenty more to send the curious digging through crates to discover those elusive early grooves. Jordan Cronk

The Avett Brothers

I and Love and You (2009)

The Avett Brothers aren’t the best rock group in America, as I’ve heard exclaimed before, but they sure make themselves easy to love. Their harmony-drenched folk-rock sound, both sincere and sentimental, is a welcome relief from the pretension and cynicism that almost of necessity seems to accompany indie rock these days. On their latest effort, I and Love and You, siblings Scott and Seth and company continue to seem removed from any concern to push boundaries or court critical opinion—they just make good, old-fashioned Americana music (with the occasional twist) filled with insightful observations on love and life. I don’t mean to make them sound simplistic or unoriginal, because they’re not, and though their formula can produce some overly sappy moments (as occasionally happens here), it’s more often refreshing to hear something so unusually wholesome and honest, especially when combined with the boys’ solid musicianship. This major label debut does smooth out some of the rough edges that previously defined the group’s sound, but the Avetts rarely let the additional production smother what makes them great. Chris Nowling

Silversun Pickups

Swoon (2009)

They still sound an awful lot like The Smashing Pumpkins, but on Swoon, Silversun Pickups take things up a notch with bigger guitars, quicker tempos and smoother production. The shimmering, subtle nature of their earlier albums can still occasionally be found here, but often there’s a more sinister, aggressive edge to the music that wasn’t so prominent before. The results aren’t necessarily an improvement on the band’s 2007 breakthrough record as the songs rarely surpass the quality of work found on Carnavas (and often just sound a little too familiar), but the record still occasionally feels like a small step forward for the group anyway. Tracks like the anthemic rocker “The Royal We” and the taught first single “Panic Switch” have the sound of a confident and capable band running with a full head of steam, which is encouraging. But over the course of ten lengthy tracks—several of which are real momentum-drainers—Swoon can seem both oppressive and tiring. A nomination for “Best New Artist” at the Grammys should do wonders for Silversun Pickups’ visibility—let’s just hope they prove worthy of such a designation with their next effort. Chris Nowling

Dizzee Rascal

Tongue N’ Cheek (2009)

Dizzee Rascal, a grime rapper hailing from East London, has always lived and worked in the world of underground music. So it might seem a bit surprising that Dizzee’s latest, Tongue N’ Cheek, is the most pop-oriented, dance-floor friendly material he’s ever written. Here, Dizzee has left behind much of the grime style and eclectic instrumentation that marked his previous work in favor of a more mainstream approach. And apparently many have happily received Dizzee’s new style—three of the eleven tracks here (“Dance Wiv Me,” “Holiday” and “Bonkers”) have already become number-one hits in the UK. But as Dizzee gravitates away from the dark streets of underground rap to the bright lights of pop stardom, his music loses a bit of its complexity. Consider the first two songs of the album, “Bonkers” and “Road Rage.” The former can be summed up with the line, “Some people think I’m bonkers,” while the second opens with “Beep Beep!/Comin’ Through!/ Move over! Yeah, you!” These songs prove to be your basic energetic dance numbers, albeit with slightly better than average beats, and just aren’t what we’ve come to expect from the creative mind that brought us 2003’s Boy in Da Corner. Tongue N’ Cheek is a fine British dancehall/hip-hop record, meant more for the hips than the mind. It’s also a record that’s easy to get into on the first listen (unlike Dizzee’s earlier albums), but only time will tell if this new turn in Dizzee’s career will yield anything of real substance. Gavin Breeden

Doves

Kingdom of Rust (2009)

It's been four long years since Doves dropped their last album, Some Cities, their second release in a row to reach #1 in the U.K. One could argue that a four-year absence doesn't qualify their new record, Kingdom of Rust, as a comeback album, but for whatever reason, it still feels like a comeback album. Fortunately, the trio of Jez Williams, Jimi Goodwin and Andy Williams seem determined to make the most of their return with another solid set of rock n’ roll tunes that hold up against the best material the band has offered. Kingdom of Rust contains a great deal of the band’s signature dramatic style (similar to peers Elbow and Editors), but it's rougher, louder and less “pop” than their previous recordings. The title track is a somewhat familiar bit of dreary acoustic balladry and first single “Jetstream” has the same production sheen as before, but tracks like the scuzzy “The Outsiders” and the psychedelic stomp “House of Mirrors” show a more lively and aggressive side to the band that separates Kingdom of Rust from its predecessors. It’s got its share of flaws, to be sure, but Doves’ latest provides a welcome return for the band. Chris Nowling

Fanfarlo

Reservoir (2009)

After releasing a steady stream of singles over the past few years, English rock collective Fanfarlo finally made their full-length debut this year with Reservoir. I’ve been somewhat puzzled at the lack of excitement about this new group, not just because their debut is one of the best I’ve heard this year but because the band’s sound is one I would imagine having a very broad appeal. The group, comprised mostly of talented multi-instrumentalists, makes frequent use of trumpet, violin and various percussive instruments (among other things), which puts them in league with the likes of Beirut (even the vocals are a bit similar), but Fanfarlo seem to have their sights set on bigger stages and a broader audience with the arena-ready production and epic, sing-along choruses that fill the majority of their first efforts runtime. I can almost see the throngs of eager fans filling stadiums to hear the likes of the mandolin-led anthem “The Walls are Coming Down” or the soaring “Harold T. Wilkins,” two of the album’s highlights. Fortunately, their gift for catchy melodies and ability to use a somewhat unusual instrumental palette to make appealing pop music doesn’t come at the expense of the musicianship, which is top-notch throughout this noteworthy debut. Chris Nowling

Manic Street Preachers

Journal for Plague Lovers (2009)

With veteran bands such as Polvo, Dinosaur Jr., Built to Spill, Magma, and Mission of Burma all turning in late-career highlights this past year, it may have been easy to overlook arguably the most potent return-to-form of them all. Fourteen years after the still-unsolved disappearance of driving creative force Richey Edwards, Manic Street Preachers returned in 2009 with their first album composed entirely around Richey-penned lyrics since their 1994 classic The Holy Bible. The band’s perseverance in the interim is commendable on many levels, but with more than a couple of worthwhile full-lengths over that span, it stands to reason that the Manics could simply continue to coast on reputation alone. Instead, they enlisted noise-rock luminary Steve Albini to man the boards, and together with the return of Edwards’ uneasy and morbid wordplay, they’ve dropped an intimately scathing arena-ready rawk album, immediate in energy and accessibility, and with enough focused intensity to label it the most consistent Manics album in a decade. Albini’s typically warm, analogue recording lends Sean Moore’s steamrolling percussion additional weight, while James Bradfield’s guitars cut with a ferocity that he hasn’t approached in years. Finally arriving on U.S. shores in September (with original artwork intact) after a controversial early-year U.K. release, Journal for Plague Lovers is one of the few rock records released in 2009 that is impossible to deny. Jordan Cronk

Ola Podrida

Belly of the Lion (2009)

I discovered recently that “ola podrida” is Spanish for “rotten wave,” ironic given the simple beauty that defines much of the work of musician David Wingo, who records under the Ola Podrida moniker. His sophomore effort, like his debut, is a mostly one-man affair; Belly of the Lion showcases Wingo’s considerable talent in musical composition and detail-oriented lyricism. Despite the simple instrumental approach of most of the tunes here, Wingo manages to mix a fairly wide breadth of styles over the nine tracks. His soft, even tenor voice and subtle presentation will undoubtedly seem unimpressive to some, but the attentive will find much to enjoy and appreciate in Wingo’s restrained approach as he unfolds his quiet narratives. And though the occasional dud keeps Belly of the Lion from greatness, Wingo’s best songs are nothing short of stunning. Highlights include the banjo-led “Donkey,” the mournful acoustic ballad “Sink or Swim,” and the shimmering “Roomful of Sparrows,” each modestly presented but emotional and gripping just the same. Chris Nowling

Biffy Clyro

Only Revolutions (2009)

Like several of the bands featured in these capsule reviews, Scotland’s Biffy Clyro has never really caught on here in the U.S. In fact, I’m not sure their latest, Only Revolutions, has been released here yet, but it’s made quite an impact across the pond, appearing on several 'best of the year' lists. Biffy Clyro takes the American guitar rock (think Nirvana or Foo Fighters) of the 1990s and blows it into epic proportions. And when combined with their quirky humor, darkly religious musings, and a love of unusual song structures, the trio’s style really is quite distinct. The group’s considerable talent and mainstream appeal are both obvious throughout their fifth studio LP, which is a more cohesive and collected effort than their 2007 release, Puzzle. And though your enjoyment of the record will most likely depend on how much of singer Simon Neil’s emphatic declarations and odd lyrical details—which often border on ridiculous—you can swallow, when held against the work made by many of their big-budget, alt-rock peers, Biffy Clyro’s Only Revolutions provides hope for the future of radio rock—at least in the U.K. Chris Nowling

Them Crooked Vultures

Them Crooked Vultures (2009)

The first thing that sets Them Crooked Vultures apart from other side projects is that it may really be a genuine rock n’ roll “supergroup.” Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age is on guitar and lead vocals; Dave Grohl of Nirvana and Foo Fighters plays drums; and John Paul Jones of Led Zeppelin plays bass, keyboards and other stringed instruments. Just from looking at the players you’d expect a record rooted in classic rock with a dirty, 21st century twist. And that’s exactly what you get on Them Crooked Vultures’ self-titled debut, but that doesn’t make this record any less impressive nor does it remove any of its gut-punching power. On debut single “New Fang,” Grohl and Jones conjure thunder in the powerful rhythm section. Homme spits the words out with venom and it’s his jagged guitar and recognizable howl that make the band sound more like Queens of the Stone Age then Jones’ Zeppelin or Grohl’s Foo Fighters. Despite Homme’s natural prominence, every moment of the record feels like a group effort (the material was written and produced by all three members). It’s as if there wasn’t an ounce of ego in the room when these tracks were put to tape and this only adds to the impression that there exists a very natural chemistry between Homme, Jones and Grohl. Them Crooked Vultures is not the best rock album of 2009, but it may be the record that makes the most of its contributor’s respective strengths. Gavin Breeden

Holopaw

Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness. (2009)

On their third effort, indie rockers Holopaw don’t so much reinvent themselves as they continue to slowly and steadily evolve. The folky Americana sound that comprised most of their debut is all but gone, as they now stray further into more straightforward indie-rock territory on Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness., their first release in over four years. Fans may be divided by the group’s continued transition, but the approach here is much the same as on 2005’s Quit +/or Fight, and there’s no denying the quality of the material this time around. Singer John Orth’s quivering tenor takes its place appropriately and clearly in front of the jangly guitars and earnest drums as before, but something about the warmer production and somewhat nosier and more purposeful approach makes their new record the most cohesive and compelling album the Florida-based band has yet released. The occasional flourish—emotive trumpet and subtle string swells are featured on several tracks—give life and depth to the proceedings, but Oh, Glory. Oh, Wilderness. is a record that succeeds more because of its simplicity than in spite of it. Chris Nowling

Feature By:
InRO Staff