Stacy's best of 2009

God, I hate making best-of lists. Maybe I would feel more confident if I felt I had listened to even the tiniest fraction of what 2009 had to offer. But I'm not even sure what I heard can even be expressed as a fraction. Hell, I didn't even get around to most of what I wanted to listen to -- let alone delve into everything out there I don't even know about. So my top 10 is really just the best 10 of the maybe 20 albums I heard this year. But I *do* like taking a look back at what moved me, figuratively and literally, in the past year. So indulge me, if you will, a highly unscientific Top 10 of 2009 list:

10. Steve Earle -- Townes
An ode to Earle's hero Townes Van Zandt, Earle is faithful to TVZ's songs but doesn't settle for merely covering. He bends songs where they have room to bend, and stays on the rails when he need to. It makes for an interesting listen, whether you're in it for Townes, for Earle, or the happy blending of both.

9. Son Volt -- American Central Dust
I admit that this isn't my favorite Son Volt offering, but it's solid. Not as memorable, perhaps, as the early classics or even the blaring horns of "The Search," but it's still an enjoyable listen and proof that Son Volt still has plenty to say.

8. "Away We Go" soundtrack -- various artists (but mostly Alexi Murdoch)
I only watched this movie around Christmas, and soooo glad I did. The movie is wonderful, but I was slightly distracted the whole time by wondering who the artist was on most of the songs that set the movie's searching-for-home mood. The answer, it turns out, is Alexi Murdoch, a Scottish singer/songwriter who might be the second coming of Nick Drake. A sprinkling of Bob Dylan and the Velvet Underground on the soundtrack does nothing to diminish it.

7. The Felice Brothers -- Yonder is the Clock
I admit it -- it took the growly vocals here a while to grow on me. But grow they did, along with every other fascinating thing this not-like-other-bands band does. My love was sealed when I saw them play live. The album, and its sound, is dark, but in that light at the end of the tunnel kind of way that doesn't leave you wanting to drink yourself to death, quite. These guys can brood, but they can have fun, too. And that's pretty much the experience of listening to this album.

6. Gary Louris/Mark Olson -- Ready for the Flood
I still long for a reunion of the Jayhawks, but if that never happens, this was pretty damn close. Louris and Olson blend their voices and talents as if they were never parted, and their songwriting hasn't suffered, either. Better yet, when I saw them in concert last year, they seemed to genuinely like each other again, which bodes well for future projects.

5. Sara Watkins -- Sara Watkins
After some great solo offerings from Nickel Creek bandmates Sean Watkins and Chris Thile, expectations were high for Sara Watkins' first solo album. Those expectations were met and then some. Her voice, not made for belting, steers toward songs that seem made for it. The writing is sharp, and the covers are well-selected. The album is a journey from fun to melancholy and back again, kind of like life, I guess. Which Sara Watkins has apparently been out living after the demise of Nickel Creek.

4. Dave Rawlings Machine -- A Friend of a Friend
Anticipated for years, this album didn't disappoint one bit. Rawlings exposes his own take on his songs covered by others -- "To Be Young (Is to be Sad, Is to be High)" first done by Ryan Adams and "I Hear Them All" from Old Crow Medicine Show -- and, while he doesn't show those whippersnappers up, he does show them how it's done. And he gives us plenty of new, like "Ruby" (though based melodically on a 1970s song) and "Sweet Tooth." It's a masterpiece, clear and simple. As if we expected anything less from possibly the coolest man in Americana.

3. Jay Farrar and Ben Gibbard -- One Fast Move Or I'm Gone
I'm a sucker for a project album, but this one -- a tribute to writer Jack Kerouac -- is more than just interesting. It's catchy, too! It takes snippets of Kerouac's writing from "Big Sur" and makes them into songs. You get that slice-of-America feel without the aimlessness (in my opinion) of reading a Kerouac book. The feeling of movement without the sense of drift. It's Kerouac for people who thought they hated Kerouac (raising my hand here), remade into listenable songs by the minds behind Son Volt (and, before that, Uncle Tupelo) and Death Cab for Cutie.

2. Wilco -- Wilco (The Album)
Only Wilco could crank out a song with the refrain "Wilco will love you, baby" and make it rock without even a scent of cheese. It's another strong album from Wilco, and a typical move forward. It retains some of the lighter sound of "Sky Blue Sky," but pushes toward more reflection. A guest appearance on "You and I" from Feist is a treat, and "I'll Fight" is another highlight on this album, which is painfully stingy on lowlights, come to think of it.

1. The Avett Brothers -- I and Love and You
I'll admit it: I was a mite nervous when I heard the bros would be working with Rick Rubin on this album, their first major label release. Nothing against Rick, but any change is scary when you so love what a band has already been doing. Turns out Rick was on my side -- he clearly loves the Avetts' thang, too. So he appears to have let them be, for the most part, only adding a few bells and whistles to push them forward. The result was an achingly beautiful album that retains the Avetts' wild spirit but harnesses it into songs that are simple works of art -- in a good way. The Avetts are growing up, and so is their subject matter. But they haven't lost their innocence in terms of wearing their hearts on their sleeves, and that will always be what makes them great.