Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by 
DriftingOrpheus 
- Chart updated: 04/07/2024 14:15
- (Created: 04/03/2020 02:36).
- Chart size: 100 albums.
There are 0 comments for this chart from BestEverAlbums.com members and Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s has an average rating of 88 out of 100 (from 3 votes). Please log in or register to leave a comment or assign a rating.
View the complete list of 53,000 charts on BestEverAlbums.com from The Charts page.
Buy album
- #Sponsored
90.5
[First added to this chart: 04/25/2020]
Year of Release:
2001
Appears in:
Rank Score:
11,595
Rank in 2001:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
190
Buy album
- #Sponsored
These days, Interpol are a three-piece unit. This is a reality that tends to correlate to their recent dip in critical applause. Their latest two records, El Pintor and Marauder, both feature the absence of longtime bassist Carlos Dengler. Dengler had departed Interpol due to dissension between he and the rest of the band after 2010's self-titled album was released. Despite this change leading to reformed spiritual harmony within the trio, the band lost a sizable fragment of their sonic identity. The ex-bassist's greatest contributions to Interpol come in the form of 2004's sophomore effort, Antics. The record was received favorably by the music press but (ludicrously) didn't obtain the same amount of fanfare as their debut record. Antics is punchier, bleaker and just as addictive as Turn on the Bright Lights. It exhibits an artist unburdened by a gaping hole in their lineup and a quintet feverishly relishing their collective creative prime.
Antics begins by lighting a slow-burning fuse titled Next Exit. A somber, hypnotic opener introducing the listener, reluctantly, to the forthcoming tale of social turbulence. Vocalist Paul Banks remarks, "You've been building up steam, ignited by this fight, so do this thing with me instead of tying on a tight one tonight", calling for bravery in the face of a discouraging, drug-infused descent. The fuse then greets the explosive with second track, Evil. The track is powered by Dengler's intoxicating bassline that cradles the song throughout its duration. The jovial tinge of the track is diversified by Banks' lyrics that conjure the personas of infamous British serial killers Fred and Rosemary West. Spoken from the perspective of the former, Banks chants, "Rosemary, heaven restores you in life, you're coming with me, through the aging, the fearing, the strife." Fourth track, Take You on a Cruise, serves as the centerpiece, fading in slowly like a ship through a dense fog bank. Banks himself has described this as a slight departure from the pathos of the album. He claims, "It has a different tone to the rest of the record for that reason. It’s a tacky seduction story: this guy who may be worldly and well-educated but he’s trying to get laid with a cocktail waitress." The coalescence of the rhythm section in the second half of the track is as majestic as the maritime imagery Banks' poetry frames. This conglomerate plays wonderfully aside Banks chanting, "White Goddess, red Goddess, black Temptress of the sea, you treat me right," calling upon Greek mythology. The finale serves as one of the band's most overlooked cuts. A Time to Be So Small has sonic textures that fashion an appropriate ending for the album with Banks' baritone bathed in reverb as the track floats away. Fogarino's drum hits here have such a fascinating sense of weight that they can be felt within your chest cavity. The song itself is said to be written from the point of view of a crustacean watching a family squabble between a father and son. Go figure. However, aquatic anomaly aside, the lyrics convey a more sinister coloring. The LP ends with Banks proclaiming, "When the cadaverous mob saves its doors for the dead men, you cannot leave," sharpening the threat of death at sea.
Unfortunately for the immensely gifted ensemble, Antics would serve as the band's final full-length classic. Here, the synthesis of emotional tonnage into harmonious elixir is strikingly effortless. Interpol would go on to produce four more above-average, but never legendary albums. As conversed earlier, a portion of it spawned from the crater left by their skillful bass player, but this came long after they'd pumped out their fourth outing. Others would potentially point out that the fracture left behind from the infighting did more damage to the psyche of the band rather than the group's sonic capabilities. Whatever it was, Interpol would never reach these heights again but with that said, not many artists have. A very small sector of the music-making landscape could brandish not one, but two classics to start a recording career. Interpol swam in the deepest of waters with the most fearsome of fauna and emerged remarkably relevant and intact. They've climbed back into their luxury liner with two first-class albums shoveling coal into their furnaces. Interpol has earned the right to go at their own pace now and anything they serve us in the future is a much obliged bonus. The timid, sharply dressed boys from the big city have nothing more to prove.
"If time is my vessel, then learning to love
Might be my way back to sea
The flying, the metal, the turning above
These are just ways to be seen"
-Public Pervert
Standout Tracks:
1. Take You on a Cruise
2. A Time to Be So Small
3. C'mere
90.2 [First added to this chart: 04/25/2020]
Antics begins by lighting a slow-burning fuse titled Next Exit. A somber, hypnotic opener introducing the listener, reluctantly, to the forthcoming tale of social turbulence. Vocalist Paul Banks remarks, "You've been building up steam, ignited by this fight, so do this thing with me instead of tying on a tight one tonight", calling for bravery in the face of a discouraging, drug-infused descent. The fuse then greets the explosive with second track, Evil. The track is powered by Dengler's intoxicating bassline that cradles the song throughout its duration. The jovial tinge of the track is diversified by Banks' lyrics that conjure the personas of infamous British serial killers Fred and Rosemary West. Spoken from the perspective of the former, Banks chants, "Rosemary, heaven restores you in life, you're coming with me, through the aging, the fearing, the strife." Fourth track, Take You on a Cruise, serves as the centerpiece, fading in slowly like a ship through a dense fog bank. Banks himself has described this as a slight departure from the pathos of the album. He claims, "It has a different tone to the rest of the record for that reason. It’s a tacky seduction story: this guy who may be worldly and well-educated but he’s trying to get laid with a cocktail waitress." The coalescence of the rhythm section in the second half of the track is as majestic as the maritime imagery Banks' poetry frames. This conglomerate plays wonderfully aside Banks chanting, "White Goddess, red Goddess, black Temptress of the sea, you treat me right," calling upon Greek mythology. The finale serves as one of the band's most overlooked cuts. A Time to Be So Small has sonic textures that fashion an appropriate ending for the album with Banks' baritone bathed in reverb as the track floats away. Fogarino's drum hits here have such a fascinating sense of weight that they can be felt within your chest cavity. The song itself is said to be written from the point of view of a crustacean watching a family squabble between a father and son. Go figure. However, aquatic anomaly aside, the lyrics convey a more sinister coloring. The LP ends with Banks proclaiming, "When the cadaverous mob saves its doors for the dead men, you cannot leave," sharpening the threat of death at sea.
Unfortunately for the immensely gifted ensemble, Antics would serve as the band's final full-length classic. Here, the synthesis of emotional tonnage into harmonious elixir is strikingly effortless. Interpol would go on to produce four more above-average, but never legendary albums. As conversed earlier, a portion of it spawned from the crater left by their skillful bass player, but this came long after they'd pumped out their fourth outing. Others would potentially point out that the fracture left behind from the infighting did more damage to the psyche of the band rather than the group's sonic capabilities. Whatever it was, Interpol would never reach these heights again but with that said, not many artists have. A very small sector of the music-making landscape could brandish not one, but two classics to start a recording career. Interpol swam in the deepest of waters with the most fearsome of fauna and emerged remarkably relevant and intact. They've climbed back into their luxury liner with two first-class albums shoveling coal into their furnaces. Interpol has earned the right to go at their own pace now and anything they serve us in the future is a much obliged bonus. The timid, sharply dressed boys from the big city have nothing more to prove.
"If time is my vessel, then learning to love
Might be my way back to sea
The flying, the metal, the turning above
These are just ways to be seen"
-Public Pervert
Standout Tracks:
1. Take You on a Cruise
2. A Time to Be So Small
3. C'mere
90.2 [First added to this chart: 04/25/2020]
Year of Release:
2004
Appears in:
Rank Score:
3,544
Rank in 2004:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
90.1
* Not the correct version of the album, but BEA prohibits the 2009 release, which is vastly superior. [First added to this chart: 03/13/2022]
* Not the correct version of the album, but BEA prohibits the 2009 release, which is vastly superior. [First added to this chart: 03/13/2022]
Buy album
- #Sponsored
These days, it's hard to quantify what qualifies for a musical experience. The medium is far more effortless to acquire and therefore more digestible. Long gone are the days of purchasing a vinyl record and making a memory out of that process. I am, by no means, a relic of an older, simpler time (despite my pension to purchase countless vinyl pressings). However, I can attest to the communal nature of said activity. Knowing that you have sunk hard earned money into what is essentially a whim or a headed recommendation. There's always inherent risk. Perhaps more interesting, is the communal, even baptismal encounters that arise from listening to an album. A transfiguration of either heart, mind or soul or, if you're lucky, all three simultaneously. Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven is nearly an hour and a half long, consisting of just four tracks that clock in at almost 20 minutes each. It's not digestible, convenient or immediate. It is however, baptismal in the sense that after fighting against its raging waters of spiraling downfall, you emerge altered. It tells us so much without a single lyric by being relentlessly reflective, critical and emotionally arresting. It's a story of epic struggle, triumph and rebirth with no words.
Godspeed You! Black Emperor begins their definitive LP with Storm which appropriately begins as a soft flutter of forming clouds represented by gentile piano and horns. The track then glows with shimmering strings before crashing in with an extensive drum march. It evolves into a kaleidoscopic frenzy of what seems like improvisation before recoiling back into a reserved simmer, giving you time to absorb the grandeur of the previous movement. Don't ponder too long because Storm angers into a tornado fury on the second half of the 22 minute cut. It's powered by bruising drum hits and shrieking guitar that finally relent into a grocery store sample (of all things) before exiting with a sullen, reverbed piano outro. Second track, Static, is less cyclonic but arguably many shades darker. It begins with a drone that wouldn't be out of place on an ambient record before swelling into a sermon delivered by a zealot with strings that can be only described as "weeping". She prophesizes, "Because when you see the face of God, you will die, and there will be nothing left of you, except the God-man, the God-woman, the heavenly man, the heavenly woman, the heavenly child." It's hard to tell if the sample's inclusion is critical of excessive religious fervor or regretful due to a neglect of faith. Perhaps both are fitting. The track then heats to a boil of post-rock rage as guitar and drum motifs, similar to those on Storm, bat the track around with vigor. Static ends with a return to an ambient, metallic hiss not foreign to a horror film soundtrack of the early 2000's.
The third track of the record stands as the valedictorian of the bunch. Sleep starts with a vocal sample credited to Murray Ostril. It typifies the notion, that which impresses our elders holds no significance to this generation. A perpetual trend that is engrained in the human psyche. He mentions Coney Island as if it were the Las Vegas of the East Coast. A rose-colored sentiment of his youth no doubt but this testimony reiterates a baptismal experience of his own, experiencing Coney Island as a child without the collective shrugged shoulders of future generations. He laments, "They called Coney Island the playground of the world. There was no place like it, in the whole world, like Coney Island when I was a youngster. No place in the world like it, and it was so fabulous. Now it's shrunk down to almost nothing, you see." The track swoons with a whirring wail which harnesses into a driving drum locomotive which then quiets minutes later. Sleep then morphs into a twinkling, meditative passage that prioritizes Sophie Trudeau's violin and the drumming twosome of Aidan Girt and Bruce Cawdron. It's the first song on the LP that doesn't end in enveloping quiet but, instead, follows the lead of the percussive duo to lead the track out. Finally, Antennas to Heaven rounds out the album with what can be described as a snippet of bluegrass kicking off the track. Glimmering, child-like piano drifts into a sample of conversing French children before Antennas begins in earnest. It's without hesitation the most thematically positive of the lot, with the first major movement embodying the musical equivalent of the promise of a better future. Antennas then lies in wait for a short period, revisiting the utilization of melancholic piano strikes before familiar, clean drum hits join the fray. It forms a rising tide in the final quest for uplift both spiritually and in musical timbre. It doesn't last forever as the track concludes with icy, anxious noise that challenges any claim that the incorporeal conclusion was a positive one.
Canada's Godspeed You! Black Emperor are no strangers to long-form artistic statements. Their last album effort was 1997's F#A#∞, an album that put them among gloomy, eclectic music's elite. Still, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven transmits a higher emotional resonance. The music carries in such a way that makes you resign to the idea that it could not be created by anyone else at any other time. This is achieved by sometimes appearing to be improvisational within each of the movements during mammoth tracks, while coinciding with such a technical proficiency that is fine tuned to the note. This gives the album a human unpredictability and allows for surprise each and every time it's listened to. Many could gander at the tracklisting and harbor perceptions of ostentation, however, the album is entrenched in humility with only the sonic prowess perpetuating flair. The humility comes from a place of vulnerability, fallibility and a sense of regret. All of these themes are communicated through wordless, harmonious odysseys that are concurrently nostalgic and worrisome of what the future will hold. Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven is a four track triumph of sound and vision that could suffice as a lifetime of work for some artists. It's a clam that harbors a pearl of experience that radiates a different kind of beauty for each and every listener. One that revisits you each and every time you revisit the album.
"And we used to sleep on the beach here,
sleep overnight.
They don't do that anymore.
Things changed...
You see,
They don't sleep anymore on the beach."
-Sleep
Standout Tracks:
1. Sleep
2. Static
3. Antennas to Heaven
89.7 [First added to this chart: 04/27/2020]
Godspeed You! Black Emperor begins their definitive LP with Storm which appropriately begins as a soft flutter of forming clouds represented by gentile piano and horns. The track then glows with shimmering strings before crashing in with an extensive drum march. It evolves into a kaleidoscopic frenzy of what seems like improvisation before recoiling back into a reserved simmer, giving you time to absorb the grandeur of the previous movement. Don't ponder too long because Storm angers into a tornado fury on the second half of the 22 minute cut. It's powered by bruising drum hits and shrieking guitar that finally relent into a grocery store sample (of all things) before exiting with a sullen, reverbed piano outro. Second track, Static, is less cyclonic but arguably many shades darker. It begins with a drone that wouldn't be out of place on an ambient record before swelling into a sermon delivered by a zealot with strings that can be only described as "weeping". She prophesizes, "Because when you see the face of God, you will die, and there will be nothing left of you, except the God-man, the God-woman, the heavenly man, the heavenly woman, the heavenly child." It's hard to tell if the sample's inclusion is critical of excessive religious fervor or regretful due to a neglect of faith. Perhaps both are fitting. The track then heats to a boil of post-rock rage as guitar and drum motifs, similar to those on Storm, bat the track around with vigor. Static ends with a return to an ambient, metallic hiss not foreign to a horror film soundtrack of the early 2000's.
The third track of the record stands as the valedictorian of the bunch. Sleep starts with a vocal sample credited to Murray Ostril. It typifies the notion, that which impresses our elders holds no significance to this generation. A perpetual trend that is engrained in the human psyche. He mentions Coney Island as if it were the Las Vegas of the East Coast. A rose-colored sentiment of his youth no doubt but this testimony reiterates a baptismal experience of his own, experiencing Coney Island as a child without the collective shrugged shoulders of future generations. He laments, "They called Coney Island the playground of the world. There was no place like it, in the whole world, like Coney Island when I was a youngster. No place in the world like it, and it was so fabulous. Now it's shrunk down to almost nothing, you see." The track swoons with a whirring wail which harnesses into a driving drum locomotive which then quiets minutes later. Sleep then morphs into a twinkling, meditative passage that prioritizes Sophie Trudeau's violin and the drumming twosome of Aidan Girt and Bruce Cawdron. It's the first song on the LP that doesn't end in enveloping quiet but, instead, follows the lead of the percussive duo to lead the track out. Finally, Antennas to Heaven rounds out the album with what can be described as a snippet of bluegrass kicking off the track. Glimmering, child-like piano drifts into a sample of conversing French children before Antennas begins in earnest. It's without hesitation the most thematically positive of the lot, with the first major movement embodying the musical equivalent of the promise of a better future. Antennas then lies in wait for a short period, revisiting the utilization of melancholic piano strikes before familiar, clean drum hits join the fray. It forms a rising tide in the final quest for uplift both spiritually and in musical timbre. It doesn't last forever as the track concludes with icy, anxious noise that challenges any claim that the incorporeal conclusion was a positive one.
Canada's Godspeed You! Black Emperor are no strangers to long-form artistic statements. Their last album effort was 1997's F#A#∞, an album that put them among gloomy, eclectic music's elite. Still, Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven transmits a higher emotional resonance. The music carries in such a way that makes you resign to the idea that it could not be created by anyone else at any other time. This is achieved by sometimes appearing to be improvisational within each of the movements during mammoth tracks, while coinciding with such a technical proficiency that is fine tuned to the note. This gives the album a human unpredictability and allows for surprise each and every time it's listened to. Many could gander at the tracklisting and harbor perceptions of ostentation, however, the album is entrenched in humility with only the sonic prowess perpetuating flair. The humility comes from a place of vulnerability, fallibility and a sense of regret. All of these themes are communicated through wordless, harmonious odysseys that are concurrently nostalgic and worrisome of what the future will hold. Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven is a four track triumph of sound and vision that could suffice as a lifetime of work for some artists. It's a clam that harbors a pearl of experience that radiates a different kind of beauty for each and every listener. One that revisits you each and every time you revisit the album.
"And we used to sleep on the beach here,
sleep overnight.
They don't do that anymore.
Things changed...
You see,
They don't sleep anymore on the beach."
-Sleep
Standout Tracks:
1. Sleep
2. Static
3. Antennas to Heaven
89.7 [First added to this chart: 04/27/2020]
Year of Release:
2000
Appears in:
Rank Score:
14,801
Rank in 2000:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
15. (=)
Safe Mode: On Certain images on this site may contain adult content and are flagged as 'unsafe'. BestEverAlbums.com does not display these images by default, but you may choose to show or hide these images from your profile page. If you choose to hide these images, you'll see an image with a warning message instead of the actual image. If you choose to show them, you'll see these images no differently than regular (safe) images.
Buy album
- #Sponsored
89.6
[First added to this chart: 07/16/2021]
Buy album
- #Sponsored
89
[First added to this chart: 06/19/2020]
Year of Release:
2009
Appears in:
Rank Score:
10,882
Rank in 2009:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
88.9
[First added to this chart: 01/15/2022]
Year of Release:
2000
Appears in:
Rank Score:
1,491
Rank in 2000:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
88.3
[First added to this chart: 07/18/2022]
Year of Release:
2001
Appears in:
Rank Score:
639
Rank in 2001:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
In 2006, a documentary on the musical life of Scott Walker was produced. 'Scott Walker: 30th Century Man', its title taken from a 'Scott 3' track, begins with narration from Sara Kestelman comparing the mythic tale of Orpheus, the Greek hero endowed with extraordinary musical prowess, to Walker's career, as the opening chords of 'Cossacks Are' ring out. It's said that Orpheus' skill could enliven and enchant not only people, but trees, rocks and the inanimate at large. Orpheus was able to convince Hades, Greek god of the dead, to relinquish the hero's beloved Eurydice with just the call of his song. The fabled maestro was the only mortal to return from the underworld and rejoin the likes of the living. Orpheus returned just once, Scott Walker has done it countless times. The notoriously undefinable figure found the Elixir of Life and was resurrected in 1984 with 'Climate of Hunter', in 1995 with 'Tilt' and most notably in 2006 with 'The Drift'. It was the latter that long held serve as his most experimental, ethereal and nebulous point, plotted on a map of increasingly unstable, scorched Earth. 'The Drift' places a heavy emphasis on imagery, much of it nefarious, discomforting and calling upon past horrors for inspiration. He bakes in percussion motifs powered by fists upon meat, wood blocks cascading into wood blocks and the union of hammers and well-pummeled steel. Yet, he christens his appropriately sinister, 13th studio effort with an aura that remains idiosyncratic. After all, who could produce music like this other than Walker? Who would dare even try?
Scott's much lauded voice is no longer the pristine, nimble entity which once danced gracefully atop oceans of orchestral merriment and crystalline, sonic soundscapes. Walker's voice, yet still powerful and imposing, is weather-beaten, strained and distinctly operatic. The transfiguration began in earnest on 1995's 'Tilt', however, here, Walker has completed his conversion into a decidedly tragic, tortured and spectral organism. He exists now, not as a separate presence isolated from his music, but rather a byproduct of its potent, thematic futility. Opening track, 'Cossacks Are', typifies the malefic overtones of the record to come, unfurling with a snarling, tumbling guitar spine, fused firmly with a stop/start drum motif which creates a dizzying sensation of circling dread. Walker's motives on 'Cossacks' are vaguely political, despite never being explicit. There's a glimpse of a warning that a black cloud of returning fascism is on the horizon. Walker cites quotes from an investigation regarding the war crimes of former Serbian President Slobodan Milošević, which included the murder of his political adversaries. Walker prophesizes on future unrest to come by bellowing, "Cossacks are charging in, charging into fields of white roses." The weighted, punishing 'Clara' follows, a lachrymose romance told from the lips of Benito Mussolini's mistress, Clara Petacci. It's markedly obscure but Walker has found himself determined to venture further and further into the gray. The track is distinctly sectional, alternating between swirling, pulsating percussion and soft spoken words from both Walker and guest vocalist, Vanessa Contenay-Quinones. It may be the most visceral nightmare featured on 'The Drift', yet, Scott has described it as a fascist love song. It's easy to forget amongst passages of what sounds like congregating insects and vicious body blows. The dichotomy of Contenay-Quinones's serene vocals and the hellish soundscape spearheads the thematic intentions of the song. "Sometimes I feel like a swallow, a swallow which by some mistake, has gotten into an attic and knocks its head against the walls in terror," she laments. Petacci followed her lover to her death, opting to die alongside him and shooing away safe passage. 'Clara' is a fully-realized account of misguided, unshakable loyalty to an insidious, but powerful bigot. It's an absolute stroke of virtuosity.
Walker's appetite for obscure inspiration is wet further on third entry, 'Jesse', a track that finds parallels between the events of September 11th, 2001 and the death of Elvis Presley's stillborn brother. Pause quickly and internalize that. The thematic connective tissue that unites the two ideas are the immense voids that linger with their absences. Accompanying Walker's vocals is a crooked, malformed alteration of the famous guitar revs found in Presley's own, 'Jailhouse Rock'. It's a sluggish, hopeless confessional which ends with the narrator punctuating his profound loneliness by proclaiming, "Alive; I'm the only one left alive." Bouncing from one fever dream to the next, fourth track, 'Jolson and Jones' is an account of a pair of two crazed, post-limelighted showmen. Embedded within, the shaking of hands between the shuffling of feet on pavement and the panicked howls of a donkey is conducted. Valiantly, Walker is able to create a cohesive structure from these ingredients (and a damn good one at that). 'J&J' crescendos with the famous utterance of "I'll punch a donkey in the streets of Galway" proving that there is no gig or amount of degradation this pair of washed-up performers won't entertain. Subsequently, 'Cue' is a full itinerary in the life of a virus down to how it grows, mutates and spreads. Scott has also indicated that the track is a hazy rhapsodization on the philosophical concept of the self. I'll avoid rumination on the intricacies of those postulations for fear of doing a disservice to Scott's immaculate headspaces. However, 'Cue' is worth its 10-minute runtime for featuring the album's most ominous presence of unease. Late album entry, 'The Escape' represents a moment of abject oddness on 'The Drift'. It again accents a perceptible sensation of plummeting by way of the shadowy rhythm section. Conversely, it flourishes with airy outbursts of psychedelia. It's only fitting that the coda comes in the form of Walker (I still can't believe it's him) performing a Donald Duck impression by way of a Bugs Bunny quote. "What's up, Doc" is intended to be a reference to a Mel Blanc car-accident induced coma spring loaded within a track designed to detail a Jewish Rabbi witnessing a car bombing. You got all that? There will be an exam. It's an incomprehensible piece of music. The album comes to rest with 'A Lover Loves', a subdued acoustic guitar vehicle with heavy production stripped away. It's as if the record is a wounded animal seeking respite from fight-or-flight. A beautiful conclusion, but not without some of Walker's creative curiosity.
There's a tried and true formula for solving complex problems. Turn it on its side and look at it from a different perspective. That's the simplified way of summarizing 'The Drift'. Walker examined issues that captured his interest, made origami from them and presented them to the world in a shape which only he could conceive. The record doesn't gain its gravitas from the mere act of going off of the sonic deep-end. It's a captivating collection of songs because of the author's ability to synthesize the ugly, horrid and just plain odd into stirring tapestries. Walker has eschewed the term 'songs' when describing the album's chapters. A cynic would likely label that as self-importance or ostentation. However, a closer look at the man and his boundless humility would quell those accusations. Scott, at this point in his career, was practically a flesh-bound vessel for inhuman beings hard-pressed to tell tales of woe. How a human being reaches that state of consciousness is sure to remain a mystery, but as long as albums like 'The Drift' continue to arise, the vast, undiscovered arctic plains of creative exploration will need to be mapped. Unfortunately, Scott's dead and the remaining land will need a new Magellan, but he managed to chart a lifetime's worth of territory while keeping a detailed, frightening and thought-provoking travel log. 'The Drift' is his circumnavigation.
"Into pockets unstitching so weighted with pins,
Into eyes imploding on mazes of sins."
- Jolson and Jones
Standout Tracks:
1. Clara
2. Cossacks Are
3. Jolson and Jones
88.3 [First added to this chart: 05/13/2021]
Scott's much lauded voice is no longer the pristine, nimble entity which once danced gracefully atop oceans of orchestral merriment and crystalline, sonic soundscapes. Walker's voice, yet still powerful and imposing, is weather-beaten, strained and distinctly operatic. The transfiguration began in earnest on 1995's 'Tilt', however, here, Walker has completed his conversion into a decidedly tragic, tortured and spectral organism. He exists now, not as a separate presence isolated from his music, but rather a byproduct of its potent, thematic futility. Opening track, 'Cossacks Are', typifies the malefic overtones of the record to come, unfurling with a snarling, tumbling guitar spine, fused firmly with a stop/start drum motif which creates a dizzying sensation of circling dread. Walker's motives on 'Cossacks' are vaguely political, despite never being explicit. There's a glimpse of a warning that a black cloud of returning fascism is on the horizon. Walker cites quotes from an investigation regarding the war crimes of former Serbian President Slobodan Milošević, which included the murder of his political adversaries. Walker prophesizes on future unrest to come by bellowing, "Cossacks are charging in, charging into fields of white roses." The weighted, punishing 'Clara' follows, a lachrymose romance told from the lips of Benito Mussolini's mistress, Clara Petacci. It's markedly obscure but Walker has found himself determined to venture further and further into the gray. The track is distinctly sectional, alternating between swirling, pulsating percussion and soft spoken words from both Walker and guest vocalist, Vanessa Contenay-Quinones. It may be the most visceral nightmare featured on 'The Drift', yet, Scott has described it as a fascist love song. It's easy to forget amongst passages of what sounds like congregating insects and vicious body blows. The dichotomy of Contenay-Quinones's serene vocals and the hellish soundscape spearheads the thematic intentions of the song. "Sometimes I feel like a swallow, a swallow which by some mistake, has gotten into an attic and knocks its head against the walls in terror," she laments. Petacci followed her lover to her death, opting to die alongside him and shooing away safe passage. 'Clara' is a fully-realized account of misguided, unshakable loyalty to an insidious, but powerful bigot. It's an absolute stroke of virtuosity.
Walker's appetite for obscure inspiration is wet further on third entry, 'Jesse', a track that finds parallels between the events of September 11th, 2001 and the death of Elvis Presley's stillborn brother. Pause quickly and internalize that. The thematic connective tissue that unites the two ideas are the immense voids that linger with their absences. Accompanying Walker's vocals is a crooked, malformed alteration of the famous guitar revs found in Presley's own, 'Jailhouse Rock'. It's a sluggish, hopeless confessional which ends with the narrator punctuating his profound loneliness by proclaiming, "Alive; I'm the only one left alive." Bouncing from one fever dream to the next, fourth track, 'Jolson and Jones' is an account of a pair of two crazed, post-limelighted showmen. Embedded within, the shaking of hands between the shuffling of feet on pavement and the panicked howls of a donkey is conducted. Valiantly, Walker is able to create a cohesive structure from these ingredients (and a damn good one at that). 'J&J' crescendos with the famous utterance of "I'll punch a donkey in the streets of Galway" proving that there is no gig or amount of degradation this pair of washed-up performers won't entertain. Subsequently, 'Cue' is a full itinerary in the life of a virus down to how it grows, mutates and spreads. Scott has also indicated that the track is a hazy rhapsodization on the philosophical concept of the self. I'll avoid rumination on the intricacies of those postulations for fear of doing a disservice to Scott's immaculate headspaces. However, 'Cue' is worth its 10-minute runtime for featuring the album's most ominous presence of unease. Late album entry, 'The Escape' represents a moment of abject oddness on 'The Drift'. It again accents a perceptible sensation of plummeting by way of the shadowy rhythm section. Conversely, it flourishes with airy outbursts of psychedelia. It's only fitting that the coda comes in the form of Walker (I still can't believe it's him) performing a Donald Duck impression by way of a Bugs Bunny quote. "What's up, Doc" is intended to be a reference to a Mel Blanc car-accident induced coma spring loaded within a track designed to detail a Jewish Rabbi witnessing a car bombing. You got all that? There will be an exam. It's an incomprehensible piece of music. The album comes to rest with 'A Lover Loves', a subdued acoustic guitar vehicle with heavy production stripped away. It's as if the record is a wounded animal seeking respite from fight-or-flight. A beautiful conclusion, but not without some of Walker's creative curiosity.
There's a tried and true formula for solving complex problems. Turn it on its side and look at it from a different perspective. That's the simplified way of summarizing 'The Drift'. Walker examined issues that captured his interest, made origami from them and presented them to the world in a shape which only he could conceive. The record doesn't gain its gravitas from the mere act of going off of the sonic deep-end. It's a captivating collection of songs because of the author's ability to synthesize the ugly, horrid and just plain odd into stirring tapestries. Walker has eschewed the term 'songs' when describing the album's chapters. A cynic would likely label that as self-importance or ostentation. However, a closer look at the man and his boundless humility would quell those accusations. Scott, at this point in his career, was practically a flesh-bound vessel for inhuman beings hard-pressed to tell tales of woe. How a human being reaches that state of consciousness is sure to remain a mystery, but as long as albums like 'The Drift' continue to arise, the vast, undiscovered arctic plains of creative exploration will need to be mapped. Unfortunately, Scott's dead and the remaining land will need a new Magellan, but he managed to chart a lifetime's worth of territory while keeping a detailed, frightening and thought-provoking travel log. 'The Drift' is his circumnavigation.
"Into pockets unstitching so weighted with pins,
Into eyes imploding on mazes of sins."
- Jolson and Jones
Standout Tracks:
1. Clara
2. Cossacks Are
3. Jolson and Jones
88.3 [First added to this chart: 05/13/2021]
Year of Release:
2006
Appears in:
Rank Score:
891
Rank in 2006:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Buy album
- #Sponsored
88.3
[First added to this chart: 03/28/2021]
Year of Release:
2007
Appears in:
Rank Score:
4,525
Rank in 2007:
Rank in 2000s:
Overall Rank:
Average Rating:
Comments:
Total albums: 100. Page 2 of 10
Don't agree with this chart? Create your own from the My Charts page!
Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s composition
| Year | Albums | % | |
|---|---|---|---|
 |
 |
|
|
| 2000 | 10 | 10% | |
| 2001 | 12 | 12% | |
| 2002 | 7 | 7% | |
| 2003 | 11 | 11% | |
| 2004 | 11 | 11% | |
| 2005 | 8 | 8% | |
| 2006 | 7 | 7% | |
| 2007 | 17 | 17% | |
| 2008 | 9 | 9% | |
| 2009 | 7 | 7% |
| Artist | Albums | % | |
|---|---|---|---|
|
|
 |
|
|
| Cancerslug | 11 | 11% | |
| Radiohead | 5 | 5% | |
| Blitzkid | 4 | 4% | |
| The National | 4 | 4% | |
| Angels Of Light | 4 | 4% | |
| Deerhunter | 4 | 4% | |
| Björk | 3 | 3% | |
| Show all | |||
| Country | Albums | % | |
|---|---|---|---|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
63 | 63% | |
 |
17 | 17% | |
 |
5 | 5% | |
 |
3 | 3% | |
 |
3 | 3% | |
 |
3 | 3% | |
 |
2 | 2% | |
| Show all | |||
Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s chart changes
| Biggest climbers |
|---|
| Up 1 from 86th to 85th Akron/Family & Angels Of Light by Akron/Family & Angels Of Light |
| Biggest fallers |
|---|
| Down 1 from 85th to 86th We Sing Of Only Blood Or Love by Dax Riggs |
Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s similar charts
- Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by
Mattdup279 (2020) - Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by JamesMowbray (2019)
- Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by jdizzle123456 (2024)
- Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by LosWochos (2020)
- Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by marleykeys (2023)
- Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by
Onater (2019) - Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by
Space-Dementia (2019) - Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by TheNowhereGuy (2020)
- Top 99 Music Albums of the 2000s by
calsper (2016) - Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s by
Glitterboiii (2024)
Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s similarity to your chart(s)
Not a member? Registering is quick, easy and FREE!
Why register?
Join a passionate community of over 50,000 music fans.- Create & share your own charts.
- Have your say in the overall rankings.
- Post comments in the forums and vote on polls.
- Comment on or rate any album, artist, track or chart.
- Discover new music & improve your music collection.
- Customise the overall chart using a variety of different filters & metrics.
- Create a wishlist of albums.
- Help maintain the BEA database.
- Earn member points and gain access to increasing levels of functionality!
- ... And lots more!
Register now - it only takes a moment!
Other decade charts by DriftingOrpheus
Top 18 Music Albums of the 2020s by DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 100 Music Albums of the 2010s by
DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 82 Music Albums of the 1990s by
DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 60 Music Albums of the 1980s by
DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 87 Music Albums of the 1970s by
DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 100 Music Albums of the 1960s by
DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 35 Music Albums of the 1950s by
DriftingOrpheus (2024)Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s ratings
88/100 (from 3 votes)
where:
av = trimmed mean average rating an item has currently received.
n = number of ratings an item has currently received.
m = minimum number of ratings required for an item to appear in a 'top-rated' chart (currently 10).
AV = the site mean average rating.
N.B. The average rating for this chart will not be reliable as it has been rated very few times.
Showing all 3 ratings for this chart.
| Rating | Date updated | Member | Chart ratings | Avg. chart rating |
|---|---|---|---|---|
 90/100  | 07/20/2021 15:02 |  Larcx13 | | 86/100 |
| 100/100 | 04/28/2021 19:07 |  Rhyner | | 99/100 |
| 100/100 | 11/04/2020 06:32 | DJENNY | | 100/100 |
Please log in or register if you want to be able to leave a rating
Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s favourites
Please log in or register if you want to be able to add a favourite
Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s comments
Be the first to add a comment for this Chart - add your comment!
Please log in or register if you want to be able to add a comment
Your feedback for Top 100 Music Albums of the 2000s
Let us know what you think of this chart by adding a comment or assigning a rating below!
If you enjoy our site, please consider supporting us by sparing a few seconds to disable your ad blocker.
A lot of hard work happens in the background to keep BEA running, and it's especially difficult to do this when we can't pay our hosting fees :(
We work very hard to ensure our site is as fast (and FREE!) as possible, and we respect your privacy.
A lot of hard work happens in the background to keep BEA running, and it's especially difficult to do this when we can't pay our hosting fees :(
We work very hard to ensure our site is as fast (and FREE!) as possible, and we respect your privacy.