When I was a very little man, probably three years old, my family took me to the circus. As I observed the caged lions and tigers, I confidently asserted that they were not ferocious beasts, but rather “people dressed up” as animals. Yes, I was a cynic even as a toddler.

In the days since its release, I’ve listened to Radiohead’s The King of Limbs between 40 and 50 times, which suggests two things: 1. I probably need a girlfriend and 2. I LOVE Radiohead. The latter point cannot be overstated - I’m so into them that, on more than one occasion, I’ve actually forgotten to breathe while taking in a new record. Suffice to say, I greeted news of their 8th LP with considerable enthusiasm.

The initial volley of songs on Limbs quickly make it known that the now-legendary Oxford quintet are not content to rest on their laurels. In Rainbows, Part II, this is not. While the warm, amorous aura of In Rainbows remains, Limbs has much more in common with the records that now make up the literal centerpiece of their career - Kid A and Amnesiac.

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San Francisco's John Vanderslice has worked his subtle, unique, elegant, and memorable musical magic for about eight full-lengths' worth of material. But like many excellent writers who fill lit journals and staff picks sections of bookstores, I have always walked away from his releases craving a little more, I don't know, danger. Vision. More happy accidents. Less concern to detail, a greater chance things might fall apart.

White Wilderness is his collaboration with Minna Choi and the Magik*Magik Orchestra, and just what he needed to do after hitting his singer-songwriter peak with 2009's Romanian Names (his last album for Barsuk). I wasn't able to hear his self-released Green Grow the Rushes EP before this debut on Dead Oceans, but the modern classical elements and instruments used to unpack or bundle up the nine songs on White Wilderness really help to make it more compelling to me than any of his earlier releases.

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Chicago's Smith Westerns gob up glamorous gum-pop, blowing big bubbles of glistening indie rock power. They've been out of school (Northside College Prep) for a couple dozen months, and sound like they want to take over the world with Dye It Blonde, the follow up to last year's self-titled debut album.

Cullen Omori leads his Teenage Fanclub-loving, glam era-adoring band through big splashy fountains of guitar + bass + drum fun, which demands to be listened to over and over again, mostly for how well played and produced it all is. Every song on here has incessantly gnawing hooks you love being ravaged by throughout the entire song ("Still New," "End Of The Night"), or slower-then faster cinematic wide-screens with drop-dead dangerous choruses you want to hear on the biggest sound system and the best drugs or drink available ("Smile," "All Die Young"). The responsibly ornate Bowie-esque keyboards tie it all together, with manicured playing to offset the bounce and blast of mashed-up Beatlesesque tempos. This is easily one of the most listenable and lovable albums of the year.

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Campfire OK's debut album Strange Like We Are is a smorgasbord of tasty sounds, slowly-simmered songs, and crackling good production.

About a half dozen well-trained and eager-to-please musicians (known mysteriously only by the last names Van Der Krimp, Dagworth, Hannigan, Goodweather, Exworthy, and Appleby) juxtapose delicate picked and plonked, emotionally earnest slow jams with clanging hoe-down choruses. Its twelve tracks feature a whole lot of rocketing and crescendoing 88s (piano), everybody-join-in-percussion, and even a softly glowing free jazz lilt between the occasional barbed chorus.

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The first time I heard Michael Benjamin Lerner live was in the incarnation of the band that played the 2008 Imaginary Holiday Spectacular at Chop Suey. (And no, I'm not just saying that because this is the lead to an interview for Three Imaginary Girls.) It's the only time I can recall in recent memory that the sound of a band made me stop what I was doing, leave a conversation with a legit famous person -- at the time, John Roderick -- and go into the other room to see what the haps was. Turns out, it was a little band called Telekinesis, recently on my radar due to a stellar release and some pictures I saw on the 'nets by the uber-talented Sarah Jurado. The band was catchy, tight, and infectious. Hence my love for Telekinesis was born, and "Coast of Carolina" has made an appearance on practically every mix I've made for friends looking for new music to dig on since.

Being the lucky gal I am, I was able to see that incarnation of Telekinesis again, when Michael filled in on percussion for a pseudo-Long Winters gig at the Sunset, and then played full-band later on in the night. Between living in our fair city and taking the trek out to Sasquatch! last year, I was able to catch a few more glimpses of the good that Telekinesis is capable of, all the way up to (and including) the work of his newest release, 12 Desperate Straight Lines. He'll be making his noise unto the masses again shortly as he tours behind 12DSL, and we caught up with him last week to talk about his chosen craft, what he's listening to, recording with Chris Walla, and other indoor sports.

Imaginary Victoria: Thanks so much for taking the time to chat with me! Alright, Michael -- let's jump right in. What's changed the most for you since recording the last album, so far as your personal world goes? There's a spot in your press release about a change in relationship, and I'm sure you've been affected somewhat by a measure of success -- have these changes proved stimulants or challenges? There's always that "happiness writes white" trap that Sean Nelson sings about...
Michael Benjamin Lerner: Of course! Let's see... a whole heap of a lot has changed since the first record! A relationship that I was in when writing / touring off that first record ended, and that was hard and weird, and it provided a whole lot of song fodder. And, I also was dealing with a bunch of personal health issues. Ear stuff, which could never really be explained to me, which led to a series of unfortunate events, including a car accident the day before I was supposed to drive to San Fran to record with Chris Walla. The car crash prevented me from doing that, but in turn, I wrote a bunch of songs that ended up on the record in that time that I was home because of rescheduling and recovering. And now, I'm feeling better, and happier! I moved into a house with my girlfriend, and am finally not living with my parents since I started this band, which feels amazing.

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I love The Dirtbombs! Mick Collins leads one of the very best American bands ever, with superb playing from musicians like Zac Weedon (The Readies) and Ko Melina, with punk-soul super producer Jim Diamond once upon a time handling bass, and the rare use of two drummers at a time. Their Ultraglide In Black full-length was a perfect example of the dear darkness Detroit injects into the underground rock scene. It assimilated the devotion of black culture fandom into contemporary kick ass rock and roll. That was a decade ago, but in the meantime, truly excellent albums and life-changing shows have been listened to and witnessed by their rabid cult of followers from coast to coast and beyond.

That said, their new album Party Store, a devotion to Detroit's other realm of world-known sounds is noble in intention, but lacking in execution. It's a great idea to have the band play out live classic techno music from the region from a couple of decades back, an idea I wanted to hear and love with all my heart.

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It's been a busy day for news on the internet -- it's finally legal to talk about the Head and the Heart's hookup with Sub Pop, we're due for a three hour mini-snowpocalypse, everyone's a-buzz about the show at the Fremont Abbey tonight, and John Roderick is organizing a tweetup somewhere in the depths of central Florida.

While we break the rest of it down for you in easily-digestible one-post chunks, here's two favorites out of our seventeen favorite things that happened today: Okkervil River and Telekinesis both have new material out, which we're streaming on repeat courtesy of The Internet. Both are about to drop new albums, both (fingers crossed on the former) are gearing up to tour in the near future, and both tracks make us squee! with excitement at what they're about to dish us next.

Exhibit A: Okkervil River last night on Jimmy Fallon.

Pictured above at MFNW 2010, Will and Patrick (and the rest of the crew, along with AC Newman and a few members of the Roots) brought the house down last night on Jimmy Fallon, where they played a new song called "Wake and Be Fine" off of I Am Very Far {due out in May on Jagjaguwar}. The song's indie.waltz backbone marries perfectly Will Sheff's urgent, melodic vocals for that hopeful, new-era anthematic sound we've come to expect from the ladies and gents of OKR. It was downright exciting! (Really. We were clapping at our desks.) Head on over to the Jagjaguwar site to catch "Wake and Be Fine" for yourself and live the joy with us.

Exhibit B: Telekinesis on NPR.

Okkervil River's new album won't be out until May, but we've only got about a month to go before Telekinesis gives us their latest effort. It's called 12 Desperate Straight Lines and by the sounds of today's track, "You Turn Clear in the Sun," it's gonna be good. You can listen to the song over at NPR's All Songs Considered blog, where Robin Hilton sums our thoughts (and fractured hearts) up beautifully:

My music library isn't for the faint of heart.  If your will to live isn't what it used to be, or you're prone to depressive episodes, then you should probably stay away from most of the admittedly gloomy songs and albums in my collection.

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I know, I know. Writing best of 2010 lists is so three-weeks-ago. But with such a good year in music having just passed, it would be remiss of me to not to let the imaginary-sphere know about a few of my favorite close-of-the-oughts things. I've never been a big subscriber to "this is better than that" -- it's not easy to put so much different stuff on one plane and deem some of them better, some of them worse -- so instead of file and rank, I've compiled a few chunks of albums, shows, and random happenings that made it to 'awesome' status for me over the last twelve months, with commentary, in no strict order.

That said, this best-of is meant to be enjoyed. Maybe your life was altered at the same show mine was, or maybe the same album had you trapped in the car for an hour listening tracks on repeat. Whichever is the case, remember one thing above all else: as John Roderick so eloquently stated earlier this week, "If you are too busy to discover new albums for yourself, the last thing you need is a list of more albums to buy. You should take a hot bath instead."

Agreed.

That said, let's start with the releases. I was seriously impressed with the amount of great EPs and LPs that came out this year, and this is coming from someone who's held fast to the belief that there hasn't been a 'great' year for new music since about 2005 or so. (Obviously, with a few onesie exceptions here and there.) Maybe it has to do with where I'm at and what I'm capable of absorbing at any given point, but seriously -- I'm able to look back at what made it into my itunes from January until now, and can state with confidence that some honest-to-goodness talented shit rose to the surface above the onslaught of mediocre that is now deemed 'indie' and/or 'indie rock' these days. (PS: in most cases, there's very little new music that can truly be deemed 'indie rock.' I'm just saying. When the next Wrens album comes out, we'll talk.)

Tied for First Place:
* Lovesick Empire / The Grind EP - I simply can not get enough of this EP. It's a sound that invokes a proper nod to grunge (which is seemingly inherent, rather than purposeful), laden with powerful big-guitar ache and smart lyrics to match. Catch them in the third-of-five spot at Neumos next Friday, January 7th before you head out to Columbia City (see below). {listen / free download}{tickets}
* Damien Jurado / Saint Bartlett - This ambitously-recorded album is a bold departure from Jurado's previous work, with a layered, throwback, one-take sound that begs to be heard on vinyl. Wielding the CD in my car on the way home from the West Seattle Easy Street pre-release show, I found myself pulled over on John Street, listening to "Beacon Hill" about twenty times in a row -- if you didn't pick this up yet, you can grab a copy at his upcoming show on Friday, January 7th at Columbia City Theater. {buy album}{tickets}
* The Head and the Heart / (s/t) - Unless you've lived under a rock since about April or so, you know why this band made my best-ofs. There's hardly enough adjective left that hasn't already been used since this band hit my radar over the summer, and they've gone from the stages of Conor Byrne and Sonic Boom to opening sets for Dave and Tim's most recent run of shows -- and with good cause. If you're lucky enough to have picked up tickets to the January 15th show at Neumos later this month (we're including the link in case any get released between now and then), I'll see you there! {buy album}{tickets}

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Nick Jaina is a very accomplished and demiurgic Portland, OR-based singer-songwriter whose lyrically romantic scenarios luxuriate in diversely orchestrated carnival folk-pop. His stately and quietly startling new album A Bird In The Opera House reminds me of when I was a teenager and brought home armloads of classic folk, rock, and even classical LPs from the library. I would spend lazy afternoons flicking between Simon & Garunkle and collections of courtly love music, sampling the poetic plumes of spoken word and instrumentals on The Amazing Adventures of the Liverpool Scene, and winding into romantic mesmerization with the ballads of bands like Jefferson Airplane.

A Nick Jaina record is just as rich in acoustic-based tapestries of sound and seriousness of mood. It may just be a sublimely melodic lead vocal and sweep of old strings, but tracks like "Days In My Room" and "Asheville" are meant to carry you into a more lived-in, yet more literary, world of indie rock song-craft. He is an unusual artist in the chamber/roots underground, due to higher level composing and arranging skills, a really sophisticated playing sensibility, and a Stoically mature confessional outlook in the songs.

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Bloodshot Records, a label always known for high quality music as well as eclectic realness, has put out the new album by Steve Fisk and Johnny Sangster guitar/steel guitarist session player Maggie Bjorklund.

It's a dreamy, waltzy, life-in-amber collection of seaside castaway whirls and marches. If you remember Bjorklund's work with Danish band the Darleens, you'll want to pick this up right away. Especially if you've been familiar with her excellent work recently with Mark Pickerel and His Praying Hands, and weaving a bed of pedal steel as well on songs by The Dept of Energy, Christy McWilson, and the recent album which slays me most, Rusty Willoughby's Cobirds Unite.

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