Nerve’s 15 Best Albums of 2011

Dubstep, hip-hop, and whatever it is you call tUne-yArDs.

by Nerve

2011 was a great year for music. Adele provided a much-needed breath of non-Auto-Tuned air for the pop charts, dubstep had us all briefly obsessing over “the drop,” and Watch the Throne gave the 1% a catchy new shopping list. Our Best Albums of 2011 spans a whole bunch of genres, from the aforementioned dubstep to whatever it is you can call tUne-yArDs, and you can check out a massive Spotify playlist featuring songs from the picks (and the honorable mentions) here. Then, be sure to tell us what we missed in the comments — bonus points are awarded if you leave a writeup and track pick instead of  “ZOLA JESUS GRAW.”

15. TV on the Radio, Nine Types of Light 

For the recording of Nine Types of Light, the band's fourth studio album, art rockers TV on the Radio left their hometown of Brooklyn for brighter, western-er pasture. The result: an ecstatic record that wraps a romantic yearning into TVOTR's familiar buzz. The album is surprisingly lush and sensuous, combining the band's famed psychedelics with warm bass lines and Tunde Adebimpe's Bee Gee-esque vocals. But that’s not to say that TV on the Radio has made any drastic stylistic changes: Nine Types of Light blends the band's diverse influences — funk, blues, gospel, rock, post-punk — into cohesion. — Colette McIntyre

Listen: “Caffeinated Consciousness”

14. Shabazz Palaces, Black Up

Seattle’s Ishmael Butler, once Butterfly of Digable Planets, re-emerged as Shabazz Palaces to drop a couple of EPs before this sprawling, epic LP came out. Butler ducks the conventions of hip-hop as surely as he rhymes, eschewing the typical verse-chorus-verse structure of the genre for murky, sprawling textures to drop his richly imaginative flow onto. Black Up is deep, dark, and best listened to on a pair of big-ass headphones in a darkened room. — Alex Heigl

Listen: “An echo from the hosts that process infinitum”

13. Bon Iver, Bon Iver

Emerging from his cabin to a world more overtly influenced by Prince and TV on the Radio, Justin Vernon’s follow up to For Emma, Forever Ago is a open, ambitious album, from the Peter Gabriel-aping-grandeur of “Beth/Rest” to the overstuffed box of influences that is “Minnesota, WI.” Vernon’s haunting falsetto is at the fore throughout, and to good effect: agile and affecting, it’s the best girl’s voice coming from a bearded white man since Richard Manuel of The Band. — Dustin Bird

Listen: “Perth”

12. M83, Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming 

Hurry Up, We're Dreaming approximates the same dreamy mysticism I felt watching The NeverEnding Story for the first time — apparently by design. Anthony Gonzalez's music has its complexities, but the overall effect is more comforting than challenging. It taps into your inner child; evoking memories and long-forgotten dream sequences with poetic whispers and guitar riffs carefully blended into an electronic symphony.  — Amanda DelTuvia

Listen: “Midnight City”

11. Kurt Vile, Smoke Ring for My Halo 

If Tom Petty and Bob Seger created some kind of hirsute, scrawny lovechild, it would be Philadelphia native Kurt Vile. Smoke Ring for My Halo treads a delicate line between being modestly optimistic and vaguely miserable, oscillating between problem and solution. In the beautiful, finger-picked opener "Baby's Arms," Vile croons about finding comfort in someone, while lamenting about being unable to give them his all. "Peeping Tomboy" offers the  statement "I don't want to change, but I don't want to stay the same," and that's the conflicted beauty of Halo: Vile wears his heart on his sleeve, but that sleeve is still wrinkled, filthy, and artfully tattered. — Marina Cukeric

Listen: “Baby's Arms”

10. The Weeknd, House of Balloons

"Trust me girl… You'll wanna be high for this," a velvet croon advises in the opening track, but there's no need: House of Balloons is a high in itself, a woozy, sultry influence that a listener can't help but fall under. A raw and dark ache pervades the album, making the familiar nocturnal tales of sex, drugs, and debauchery sound more disturbing than fun. The Weeknd picks up beats from the likes of Beach House and Siouxsie and the Banshees, pushing R&B's sonic profile outside of the traditional realms. The vibes are slow-burning: House of Balloons paces itself until just the right moment and then it explodes into a codeine-soaked rapture. — C.M.

Listen: “House of Balloons”