Top 5 - Scott Slonaker
1. Matthew Sweet, In Reverse (Volcano). 1999 represented a major rebound from 1997 and 1998. In Reverse is Matthew Sweet's best album ever (yes, fans, that includes Girlfriend) - but not because of the much-ballyhooed Spectorian production techniques. Instead, Matty simply did what's too often lost in the shuffle: he wrote a great batch of tunes. Sure, "If Time Permits" and "Untitled" benefit enormously from the heavy reverb and massed backing, but they really work because they're gorgeous and memorable songs. The pastiche of '60s and '70s keeps things fresh; Bread would have killed for a soft-rocker like "Trade Places" or "Hide", and "Faith in You", fueled by new guitarist Pete Phillips, kicks like a mule. The album-ender, "Thunderstorm", is a ten-minute megamix of four classic Sweet ditties that will leave you breathless. A similar retro aesthetic and McCartneyesque gift for melody also fueled Owsley's excellent self-titled debut.
2. Beck, Midnite Vultures (DGC). The question must have dogged Beck as it does so many other legendary artists- what do you do when you've made your masterpiece? Thankfully for everyone, Beck decided against remaking Odelay (which he might have been able to pull off) and simply laid down the boogie. "Nicotine and Gravy" could be an outtake from Purple Rain, and "Hollywood Freaks" is a rap parody that represents the closest thing to a "Loser" sequel he has. The sheer sonic wizardry of Midnite Vultures is nothing short of jaw-dropping. It may be some serious silicone in places (the falsetto soul of "Debra"), but the soundscape and songwriting keep you from caring. Gay Dad's similarly no-holds-barred approach to Britpop allowed Leisure Noise to deliver some refreshing pop kicks.
3. Wilco, Summer Teeth (Reprise). After their stunning collaboration with Billy Bragg, Mermaid Avenue, Wilco decided against returning to the country-rock genre exercises that always pose a threat and went for the big top with Summer Teeth, a wonderfully realized shot of Beach Boys-Bee Gees-influenced piano-drenched pop. But, once again, great songs (notice a theme?) push it over the top. The organ-piano interplay in "Can't Stand It" is particularly memorable, and it sounds like the Wilsons themselves paid a studio visit to drench "Nothingsevergonnastandinmyway(again)" in oo-wee-oo backing harmonies. Yet, frontman Jeff Tweedy streaks songs such as "A Shot in the Arm" and "We're Just Friends" with road-weary restlessness and ennui, adding both vinegar and staying power to the heady mix. Fight Songs, from Dallas' Old 97's, is another example of how great tunes ("Nineteen", "Murder or a Heart Attack") make all the difference.
4. Moby, Play (V2). Play, if you strip out the movie-score-reject padding that composes most of its final third, is the first-ever electronic blues record. Moby's never sounded more inspired than on cuts like "Natural Blues" and "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?"; he simply lays back, keeps the sound simple, and lets blues recordings from the '20s and '30s do the work. As long as he doesn't try to vocalize himself ("Machete", "The Sky is Broken"), Play is powerful, intoxicating stuff. Oh, yeah, and you get the old-school jam "Bodyrock" tossed in for free. Air's Moon Safari is another example of techno's recipe given interesting flavor through the judicious use of "Sugar Sugar" and loungy drizzle.
5. Macy Gray, On How Life Is (Clean Slate-Epic). Lauryn Hill may still be grabbing the headlines, but singer-songwriter Macy Gray made an underrated gem of her own. Macy's rough-and-ready vocals sandpaper "Do Something" and "Why Didn't You Call Me" to a shine, and the single "I Try" is a drop-dead gorgeous hymn to wistful love. The secret to her success, besides songs (what else?), is the organic, sweaty clatter of her many-pieced backing band. And any album not by Ween with a song titled "Sex-O-Matic Venus Freak" gets extra points. British space-roots outfit Gomez ride the nod-'n-sweat juke-joint stomp to success on Liquid Skin, even if it's mostly the same as their debut. When it ain't broke, don't fix it.
