1. The Double, Palm Fronds (Catsup Plate)
An album whose beauty is so completely overpowering that it made me wonder whether I didn't need to just get with the program and start taking antidepressants like everybody else. Its back-story is that the drummer hurt his hand and couldn't play drums, so the band was forced to experiment; if this is the actual-for-true reason why this album sounds as mystical and breathless as it does, then more bands need to break their drummers' hands. Warbling treble is the constant; miserly use of digital skitter shows all comers just how good the stuff can be when you're not acting like you're the guy who discovered it; Avey Tare & Panda Bear-style vocals dominate but don't scrape at my ganglia like Avey Tare & Panda Bear do. Not many songs make me feel like The Song has much of a future; some of these ones do, and that's the highest praise I know how to give.