As the aughts draw to a close… who cares? Seriously, who really does care? Does it mean the same to you as it does to me? I ask because this is what I see:

The span of time between the years 2000 and 2009 was like no decade that came before in that, given the rapid and ever more sophisticated advances in technology, we’ve been able to create our own very unique cultural experiences. There may be no “i” in “team” or “us” or “together,” but “i” creeped into our TV viewing experiences (TiVo), our telephones (the iPhone), our computers (how about the iMac?), and – most significantly – the way we listen to music (iTunes, the iPod, etc.), which is arguably where many of our personalized media experiences began in the first place. Which is great, on one level. If we only want to hear what we want to hear at the moment that we want, we can have that experience for relatively little money, at any time we please.

But on the other hand, what was threatening to become reality pretty much happened in the ’00s – we collectively eliminated the possibility of there ever being another Beatles, Elvis Presely or Michael Jackson, someone that most of us can all agree on. Given that Michael left us mid-way through the last year of the decade, we have effectively lost our last great pop culture figure, and even he was vulnerable to the pressures of our shape-shifting culture. The one album of all original material he released this decade (2001’s Invincible) was not only one of his poorest sellers, it also sucked way more often than it didn’t. Granted, we still have two Beatles left, but even Paul McCartney hasn’t been able to produce an album that could unite all of his old and young fans the way his work with the Beatles continues to do.

Which brings us to the album itself. It’s not completely dead, and will always have a place so long as musicians think of themselves as artists and still revel in the joy of creating a cohesive work of art. But let’s face it – fewer people are buying albums (on CD, that is – digital download sales and even sales of vinyl records continue to increase, though not nearly enough to offset the decline in CD purchases). And that translates to fewer people who can come together to agree on which ones are great, and which ones are best forgotten. And fewer people to care.

Having said all that, in conjunction with our End of Decade series, I present to you my picks for ten best albums of the decade, in no particular order. These are albums that, for one reason or another, connected me to many, many different people over the past ten years, all of whom mean something to me. Maybe you’re one of them, or maybe you will be someday.

Doves – Lost Souls (2000)
Queens of the Stone Age – Rated R (2000)
Fleet Foxes – Fleet Foxes (2008)
M. Ward – The Transfiguration of Vincent (2003)
Brian Wilson – Smile (2004)
The Gutter Twins – Saturnalia (2008)
Beck – Sea Change (2002)
Ambulance LTD – LP (2004)
Erykah Badu – Mama’s Gun (2000)
Herbie Hancock – River: The Joni Letters (2007)

RIYL: Queens of the Stone Age, Led Zeppelin, Nirvana

Ever since Josh Homme and Nick Oliveri parted ways, Queens of the Stone Age have been missing a certain “oomph.” It hardly seemed right to continue with the name anyway, since the dynamic between Josh and Nick was a big part of what made that band so great in the first place.

For now, anyway, Josh is putting the Queens name aside, even though Them Crooked Vultures could have easily been called a Queens record simply by virtue of the fact that Songs for the Deaf drummer Dave Grohl is providing TCV’s undulating rhythms. And although Josh is the dominant voice and guitarist of Them Crooked Vultures, to say that he is outweighed by the mere presence of his bandmates – bassist John Paul Jones and drummer Dave Grohl – is an understatement. But make no mistake, Them Crooked Vultures is very much a Josh Homme record. All the raunch and sleaze he brings to Queens of the Stone Age is here (sample double entendre: “Don’t hold it against me, unless it gets hard,” from “No One Loves Me and Neither Do I”), as is that magical de-wussified angst he does so well (see “Bandoliers,” an awesomely rockin’ breakup song if there ever was one).

But what distinguishes TCV from Queens is ultimately that rock-solid, locked-in rhythm section created by Jones and Grohl. Yes, at times it does kind of recall the groove of the groovingest Led Zeppelin, and Josh will occasionally match that with some Zep-like riffage. And though most of the songs are worthy of the musicians playing them, the record starts to drag towards the end… just like the last two Queens records. But this is a small complaint in light of the fact that John Paul Jones is playing in a kick-ass rock band once again, Dave Grohl is back behind the drum kit where he belongs, and Josh Homme is showing no signs of slowing down. Rarely does a “supergroup” get much better than this. (Interscope 2009)

Them Crooked Vultures MySpace page

To my knowledge, the very first legitimate “supergroup” in rock and roll was Blind Faith, a band that included Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker, Steve Winwood, and Ric Grech. Then came CSN(Y), the Traveling Wilburys, and a few others that aren’t coming to mind. I’m not going to list the members’ credentials from these groups — that would take hours. Let’s just say if you’ve never heard of anyone from the Traveling Wilburys, I don’t know how you can physically perform the tasks of everyday life.

Anyway, I’ve been largely underwhelmed by the supergroups of this century. Bands like Velvet Revolver, the Transplants, Zwan, and Chickenfoot have, for my taste, never recorded anything interesting enough that confirms their collective talents. Well, a new supergroup has decided to enter the fold, and rather than dish out some lackluster effort, they actually seem intent on creating some solid music. They’re called Them Crooked Vultures and the outfit consists of Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age, Eagles of Death Metal), Dave Grohl (Nirvana, Foo Fighters), and John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin). As a dedicated listener of the 70s, John Paul Jones makes this band worthwhile. The band has been surprising audiences at European festivals but has yet to play a show in America. Soon, that will all change, as they’ve announced their new tour dates.

The band’s just-announced nine-date U.S. jaunt kicks October 1 with a pair of gigs in Austin, TX, including a set for Austin City Limits. The rockers will hit major Midwest and East Coast cities like Detroit and Boston before touring the UK in December, but, sadly, will skip New York and the entire West Coast. Let’s hope this brief run is just the beginning!

Them Crooked Vultures Tour Dates: 10/1, Austin, TX (Stubb’s)
10/2, Austin, TX (Austin City Limits Festival)
10/5, Nashville, TN (War Memorial)
10/6, Columbus, OH (LC Pavilion)
10/8, Detroit, MI (The Fillmore)
10/9, Toronto, Ontario (The Sound Academy)
10/11, Boston, MA (House of Blues)
10/12, Philadelphia, PA (The Electric Factory)
10/14, Washington, DC (930 Club)
12/10: Plymouth, UK (Pavilions)

12/11: Portsmouth, UK (Guildhall)

12/13: Blackpool, UK (Empress Ballroom)

12/14: Birmingham, UK (O2 Academy)

12/15: Edinburgh, UK (O2 Academy)

12/17: London, UK (HMV Hammersmith Apollo)

I’m not sure why California isn’t getting any love, but I’m sure they’ll get around to it. Their first album, Deserve the Future, is due out sometime next year.

Most men hate Valentine’s Day, but we at Bullz-Eye actually love it, though for different reasons than you might suspect. The majority of us are either happily married or in long-term relationships (except for our fearless, terminally single leader), so Valentine’s Day is a sweet reminder of how happy we are that we’re no longer playing the dating game. (It’s fun when you’re young, guys, but trust us, you won’t miss it.) But the real reason we love Valentine’s Day is because it gives us an opportunity to make fun of songs that pretend to be heartfelt, but are really just sad. And we don’t mean “Brian’s Song” sad. We mean Milhouse Van Houten sad.

It all started with a Coldplay song. As we’re tapping along with the drums, we put the lyrics under a microscope and thought, “Did he really just say that? That’s pathetic!” From there, we began analyzing other songs that appeared to be sweet, honest confessions of love on the surface, but were just sorry cries for help in disguise or, worse, disturbing preludes to what a defense attorney would call “crimes of passion.”

We have broken our subjects down into three categories: stalker anthems, love songs for the spineless, and murder ballads, the last of which are mostly minus the ballad. Our research uncovered dozens upon dozens of songs that fit one bill or another, but for the sake of time and space, we’re whittling the list down to our favorites (all apologies to Elton John’s “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word”). And, as a public service, we have provided musical antidotes for every song we dissect, in case anyone is overwhelmed with a case of the willies. Perhaps the most disturbing thing we uncovered is that one of the more sinister repeat offenders was…Barenaked Ladies? You better believe it.

Now I’m following you: Songs that profess a more “dedicated” kind of love
There are certain songs that love you. Like, really, really love you. Wait for you at the elevator love you. Watch through your window as you sleep love you. Whether you love them back is irrelevant – you were made for them, and it’s only a matter of time before you accept this to be true.

Song/Artist: “It’s No Good,” Depeche Mode
Incriminating Lyric: “The gods decree, you’ll be right here by my side / Right next to me / You can run but you cannot hide.”
Creep Factor: Low. Dave Gahan ranks just behind Jarvis Cocker on the list of least intimidating rock stars.
Musical Antidote: “You’re No Good,” Linda Ronstadt

Song/Artist: “Number One Crush,” Garbage
Incriminating Lyric: “You will believe in me / And I will never be ignored.”
Creep Factor: Admittedly, the lyric sheet reads like a diary entry written by Glenn Close in “Fatal Attraction,” but if you have a thing for sulky redheads in raccoon eye makeup – as many of us clearly did in the ’90s – the song is really sort of adorable.
Musical Antidote: “Puppy Love,” Paul Anka

Song/Artist: “Obsession,” Animotion
Incriminating Lyric: “I will have you, yes I will have you / I will find a way, and I will have you / Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly / I will collect you and capture you.”
Creep Factor: Too turned on to be creeped out. Keep in mind that one of the next lines is “Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me?” so if we’re just talking about casual sex, wouldn’t you rather it be with someone who’s a little nuts and willing to role play? You bet your ass you would.
Musical Antidote: “We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off,” Jermaine Stewart

Song/Artist: “I Will Possess Your Heart,” Death Cab for Cutie
Incriminating Lyric: “You reject my advances and desperate pleas / I won’t let you let me down so easily.”
Creep Factor: Holy shit. Most of the time, Ben Gibbard sounds like a harmless nerd, but with this song, he let us know that he’s just as capable of making us wonder if we should call the cops.
Musical Antidote: “Let’s Be Friends,” New Edition

To read the rest of Songs That Bare Their Souls and Freak Us Out, click here.