Saying Goodbye to the Unnamed Decade.

Well, New Years Eve. It’s so nice to see you again. How long has it been?

Every New Year, bloggers, hipsters and music critics climb out of their holes to post year-end lists. Best Albums. Best Songs. Best Debuts. This year is no exception–only multiply the activity by 10, as we’ve reached the end of a decade: The, uh.. um.. well, no one’s really quite sure–except for this guy. While no one’s rushing to name the decade, everyone’s rushing to define it. So as we wish the 00’s goodbye (the decade, clearly not our 00 skinny jeans, we are hipsters, after all), it’s finally time for every music site, magazine, critic and aficionado to take a stand on the best albums of the decade.

As for me, I’m far too apathetic to actually compile a list. And I’m far too biased to make it sound like I’m being objective. So here it is, the album that defined my decade (and thus should define yours, too):

Paul A. Ab-Dul’s Entirely Biased Opinion on the Best Album of the Unnamed Decade:

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot – Wilco, 2002 (leaked 2001)

Everyone’s heard it: The myth. The lure. The drama. A musical David versus Goliath. The break with Reprise Records. The internet sensation. The final release on Nonesuch Records. But even behind the media hype, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is an album good enough to stand on its own musically and lyrically.

The masterpiece is branded Wilco’s most “experimental” album. At times, sonic soundscapes, and occasionally full-on walls of noise, disguise the songs underneath. It rewards multiple listens, after which the melodies begin to reveal themselves under the masterfully created cacophonies that complement them perfectly. Underneath it’s jagged edges and fragments, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is actually very simple; it’s beautiful and at times vulnerable, exploring a great range of emotional depth: the regret of “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” the nostalgia of “Heavy Metal Drummer,” the self-assuredness of “I’m the Man Who Loves You,” the longing of “Ashes of American Flags.” Some of Tweedy’s best songwriting coheres the album lyrically. Although the album was written and recorded before September 11th, it eerily invokes the spirit of post-9/11 America. It’s difficult to divorce the imagery of songs like Jesus, Etc. and Ashes of American Flags from the immediate context of its release, though unintended.

Jeff Tweedy himself sums up the spirit of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot best in Greg Kot’s Wilco: Learning How to Die:
“I started writing from the viewpoint of America as this imagined space, the America that exists in everyone. There is nothing more abstract to me than the idea of a country. These solitudes exist so apart from each other in the sea of white noise and information. And the beautiful thing is they keep transmitting to each other in the hope that somebody is going to find them. And the beauty is that people still do, still find some meaning in another person, in a relationship, find some way to communicate, even though more often than not it’s in a way that’s not what they intended. Because some communication is better than giving up or not communicating at all.”

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is shaken, but slightly hopeful; a little lost, but reaching out to find meaning and comfort in things–not the least of which is in each other. Between the fragments of noise, Tweedy’s voice and images capture a universal zeitgeist of this past decade.

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Though I value my opinion over all others, I’d like to extend this question to everyone*: what album defined your decade? I’m interested to know. Maybe when Bobcat gets her shit together, she’ll grace us with a post on her pick, too.

Until then, I wish all you hipsters a safe and happy New Year.
See you in the.. ’10s?

*everyone but the staff writers of Pitchfork.