I did it for me.

The anthemic, no-holds-barred album version of your favourite song being stripped down to its very core, laying bare soulful melodies that made up an emotional play of delicate acoustic wonder.

The sleek and shiny, limited edition matchbox-sized convertible behind the glass display being pushed to the deepest corner, swiftly making way for a hot blue Thomas the Tank Engine toy.

The meddling pixies and enchanted lands from the faraway fairy tales of yore being transformed into mindless robots and gridlocked nations from the stories of today’s papers, reminding us of the very reality that we now live in.

Somewhere, somehow, we had become exiled from the land of the free, having inevitably fallen into the unmagnificent lives of adults.

There is no turning back, but most times I am unsure which side I am on.

Moving past this feeling.

My heart belongs permanently to The National – the band has completely taken over my life. (Though sometimes I do try to make time for others… but you do not have to tell them this.)

Turn On the Bright Lights
Interpol
20 August 2002

It is hard to ignore the pain and melancholia that comes with the slow march of sadness that is “NYC” – the third song in Interpol’s debut studio album with lyrics that gave the album its name. In fact, it is not at all possible to ignore any of the songs in Turn On the Bright Lights – it has such immense staying power, no one would dare dispute claims from various parties declaring it as one of the strongest albums of the past decade, having cemented its place in many best-of lists.

The aural explosions produced out of repetitive guitar lines, when combined with the mesmerising vocals of frontman Paul Banks, paints a dark brilliance that is completely out of this world. Honestly, there is no one bad track on the album: the relentless pounding in “PDA” is affecting without giving you a throbbing headache, and the bittersweet “Hands Away” effortlessly sweeps you off your feet despite the sudden change in tempo midway through the album; but my favourite track is the outstanding “Obstacle 2”, which turns on the atmosphere and gets me headbanging to it every single time (/friends don’t waste wine/).

The band’s subsequent albums Our Love to Admire and Antics (part of my, ahem, Interpol music education) are suitably moody and brooding, but I always find myself returning to Turn On the Bright Lights – it is most definitely a first love that is not easy to forget.

The New York band is set to release their self-titled album in September 2010.

Expo 86
Wolf Parade
29 June 2010

Dear Yulia,

You must have been so heartbroken to hear of that dreaded news. Do you still wonder if he is still alone out there, drifting endlessly in space?

But I think it is amazing how Wolf Parade band member, Dan Boeckner, chose to share your grief by writing such a heartwrenching piece. “Yulia” easily became the best song in the band’s latest release Expo 86, and quite possibly the best Wolf Parade song, ever. We are all very proud of him.

(Oh, what? The album? Taking the easy way out: if you like Wolf Parade’s previous efforts, you will have no problems with Expo 86.)

The Suburbs
Arcade Fire
3 August 2010

It kicks off with the all-important title track, so what gives? Should not first tracks be neutral and given a chance to shine on their own, a la The National’s fabulous “Fake Empire” (from 2007’s Boxer) or Grizzly Bear’s rousing “Southern Point” (from 2009’s Veckatimest)?

But “The Suburbs” is arguably the best track off Arcade Fire’s highly-anticipated third album – it channels a raw abundance of passion and energy, seemingly released with a celebratory, resounding pop courtesy of a bottle of champagne, after the band’s three-year absence. It pretty much sets the pace for the rest of the tracks in this hour-long album.

The band may be on the expansive, bringing in sounds reminiscent to that of The Dears, Broken Social Scene, and god forbid – 80’s Swedish pop sensation, ABBA. The tunes are, as always, unleashed in full grandeur, though this time without being too over-the-top (case in point: the overwhelming Neon Bible – okay now, no need to throw tomatoes at me!), and thus come across as being more easily accessible with its ability to be digested in bit-sized chunks.

Made for the everyday man (“Modern Man”), the listless (“Wasted Hours”), and the restless (“We Used to Wait”), The Suburbs is not at all difficult to get into.

(Hello, Richard Reed Parry! Nice seeing you here again after your brief stints with The National. Say hi to Sufjan Stevens for me too.)

Upcoming releases for 2010:
Belle and Sebastian. Coldplay. Deerhunter. Fleet Foxes. Franz Ferdinand. Interpol. Jimmy Eat World. Ra Ra Riot. See Metacritic’s release calendar here.

It's in my honey.

They make falling in love so easy to do – whether you are showered and blue blazered, or wearing your heart of hearts in your sleeve of sleeves. It is a kind of a fiery passion, so burningly intense and achingly personal, it gently tears down your defenses and unveils a whole new you – one that has you listening to them at least three bloody times a day.

Mr Berninger mentioned that terrible love is the only kind of love, and I am inclined to believe him.

Because three months on, my heart still belongs to them unconditionally: it is constantly beating to their winsome rhythm and brand of freedom; always dancing in line to their elegant moves as mine. Other rivals are being unceremoniously tossed aside, living a life so mercilessly short and divided.

Alarm bells are ringing, but they might as well be singing; and so the warning signs continue to go unheeded, with the elevated levels of devotion and affection hardly dwindled.

Really, there can never be words good enough to describe the album of the year for 2010.