For as long as there have been different styles of music, there have been people looking out for the purity of that style. Some genres attract these types of people more than others - generally, the more inaccessible the music, the more “pure” the fans will generally want to keep it. Unfortunately these scenes that arise around certain genres carry a lot more baggage than the genre itself, and limits the innovation that comes through synthesis.

For example, let’s look at the scenes behind black metal, and contemporary Christian music. I choose these because I’m somewhat familiar with both, and they contrast in certain ways that illustrate things about all kinds of scenes. Now Christian music, in its most general sense, is simply music that deals lyrically with Christian themes. It makes no stylistic assumptions. However, the average person thinking of Christian music will probably associate the term with mediocre vanilla pop/rock with cliche lyrics. Similarly, the average person will probably associate black metal with corpsepaint, pentagrams, and blasphemy.

The key here is that none of these associations are inherent to the genre. Christian music is a lyrical description, and is not necessarily confined to vanilla pop/rock. Black metal is a style, and doesn’t inherently necessitate any particular lyrical themes. In the case of these two themes, there’s no overlap between the two criteria - but you almost never see Christian black metal. Why is this?

What keeps these two ideas apart is the scenes that have arisen around each. Though black metal is far more diverse than it is usually allowed to be, the expectations from within about what sort of lyrical themes it will have fuel the fears from without about those same lyrical themes, and vice versa. Christians dislike the lyrical themes that the scene has forced into black metal, and generalize that to the entire style. Similarly the black metal scene has some deal of antipathy towards pop in general, and because of its association with Christian music, they reject Christian black metal as an infection. This actually pertains to nearly all genres of heavier music to a lesser extent, as much of it has arisen out of certain countercultural lyrical expectations.

These assumptions about other genres really stifle a lot of musical creativity. Sure there are fusions all the time, but there’s really a dearth of less obvious combinations because of this. Black metal doesn’t have to be about paganism and misanthropy any more than Christian music has to be mediocre pop. Let’s hear more aggressive post-rock, or more big-band metal. Why not have symphonic hip-hop (the occasional synthesized string section doesn’t count) or celtic country-western? The scenes will probably reject it, at least initially, but I think the necessity of their approval is very often overrated.

2007 was a year of a lot of surprisingly bad albums, but while there was a lot of disappointment, there were also a lot of pleasant surprises, not to mention the albums that actually lived up to their expectations. And though I wish I could list all of the pretty good albums this year, for the sake of keeping this under a few pages I won’t.

Coming in at number 10 is Faun’s Totem (fourth from right on top). Though it’s a bit more low-key than their previous work - no parallels to Renaissance’s bouncy “Rhiannon” - it slowly but surely grew on me over the year as serenely beautiful harp-driven neoceltic folk music. The vocals and instrumentation, while not significantly different from previous work, were nonetheless still superb. The electronic and rock elements we heard in the postlude to Renaissance’s “Rosmarin” aren’t developed much further (I’d argue it’s a good thing; Schelmish’s forays from Corvus-esque Medieval to In Extremo-esque medieval metal haven’t worked out so well for them), but the same sort of subdued grind moves it’s way surprisingly tastefully into the chorus of “Zeit Nach Dem Sturm”. I don’t want Faun to turn into a metal band, but honestly, I wouldn’t mind hearing more songs like that one in the future.

Number 9 is Steven Delopoulos’s Straightjacket (third from right on the top). After being delayed more than half a year, Steven’s sequel to the terrific Me Died Blue doesn’t disappoint: his folk guitar picking on his solo project is just as impressive as his flamenco-tinged Burlap to Cashmere of old. The picked guitar is still the centerpiece of the album, but he’s added a gospel choir to a lot of the songs. It’s kind of rough at points - its entrance is rather abrupt in “As If Love Was A Sword”, and it doesn’t really jive with “Ruin of the Beast”, but it’s nonetheless an interesting addition. There’s also more experimentation on this album than on the last. “Halt” doesn’t follow any conventions of normal songwriting, but it’s an interesting crescendo to punctuate the album. “Open Your Eyes” was another pleasant surprise on the album - a piano driven song completely absent of Steven’s signature guitar, but one of the most compelling on the album nonetheless.

The third album on our list at number 8 is David Crowder Band’s Remedy (second from right on the top). Though sadly absent of the banjo that appeared on A Collision (and even more on B Collision), the electronica is featured even more prominently. That’s what makes the album so catchy: from hard beat-driven songs like “Can You Feel It?” to the the more subdued beeps of “The Glory Of It All”, their fusion of infectious pop rock with electronica and scratches, even without the bluegrass influence, is unique and well-executed enough to keep one coming back to it for a long time.

Our number 7 is Caspian’s The Four Trees (far right on the top). Whereas a lot of post-rock in the vein of Explosions in the Sky is pretty formulaic and unvaried, Caspian creates beautiful and ethereal melodies without confining itself to a particular sound. Instead of an album of six ten minute songs, Caspian punctuates its long (though not obscenely so) songs with short and powerful interludes. Instead of a constant happy dopamine rush, Caspian ventures into eerie and sometimes even angry sections, even using (gasp) heavy distortion on their electric guitars. Hardly ever boring and fairly unique in execution, The Four Trees is an album almost deserving of the pretentiousness surrounding the genre. Almost.

6 is Within Temptation’s The Heart Of Everything (third from right, bottom). I wrote a full review of it when it came out, but I will add that I’ve found myself listening to it even more than The Silent Force. The EPs since then have added a number of great songs to their repertoire of the Heart Of Everything era, my favorite being “The Last Time” from the All I Need EP. The Heart Of Everything is symphonic metal at its most epic yet tasteful (as opposed to Nightwish, epic but ridiculous).

Bringing in the top 5 albums is Tenhi’s Folk Aesthetic (far left). Each member of Tenhi is also a visual artist, which could explain the brilliant cover art, easily the best of the year: simple conceptually and visually, but communicating volumes. Dark, minimalistic, yet ultimately beautiful, it describes perfectly their music. Folk Aesthetic is a three disc set, with early and unreleased work. It contains both the guitar-volin-flute trifecta that defined the majority of their prior work, but there’s also a lot of the piano-and-drums of Airut : Aamujen - sometimes in the same song. The vocals are deep, subdued, and a perfect complement to the melancholic and subdued atmosphere of the album. Tenhi can take a while to grow on you, but there are plenty of songs like “Kausienranta” that are instantly appreciable.

4 on the list is Omnia’s Alive! (second from left). Taking the opposite approach from Tenhi, the album cover is ornately and densely decorated in a pencilled book style, with beautiful artwork in the same style throughout its album leaf. With lyrical inspiration from the likes of Poe and Shakespeare, this album moves Omnia from the Pagan era to later Western history (though I’ve wondered about the inclusion of Palästinelied on the Pagan Folk album). Unlike their previous work, Alive! is largely in English except for the bit of what sounds like Gaelic in the title track (correct me if I’m wrong), and features by far the most hurdy-gurdy that Omnia has ever used. But the tin whistle/harp combination isn’t gone - Satyrsex is upbeat, catchy, and pretty amusing for an instrumental song, and several others appear on the album. The three-part harmony that defined Omnia in the past is unfortunately only heard on the title track, but their interpretation of Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven more than makes up for any shortcomings. Clocking in at 9:07, it’s probably the least boring song of that length that I’ve ever heard. It’s wonderfully emotive, and builds brilliantly through the many verses, bringing to mind some of the poetic interpretations of Loreena McKennitt.

In 3rd place is Alcest’s Souvenirs d’un Autre Monde (fourth from right, bottom). I gave it a listen on a whim after randomly coming across it on a music review website tagged as “Post-Black Metal”. Usually I’m pretty disappointed with music I come across on Google, but this was everything the label brought to mind and more. Neige, the multi-instrumentalist behind it and several other bands, turned it from a raw black metal band and everything that entails into a fusion of the black metal style with the shoegazer/post-rock aesthetic, with ethereal euphoric melodies sprinkled with a high, smooth, and indistinct voice built using heavy electric guitars and double bass pedal drums. He says in interviews he’s never listened to shoegazer type music - that may or may not be true, but it’s a brilliantly innovative album nonetheless.

Our 2nd best album of the year is Subway To Sally’s Bastard. The characteristically Subway deep chugging of the electric guitar never appears and the melodies are occasionally a little awkward, but the vocal harmonies hide it well and give the songs a rich feel, and there’s more folk instrumentation than has appeared on their last few albums. The opening song “Meine Seele Brennt” is a perfect opening song: every bit epic and grandiose, without any hint of the ridiculous that usually accompanies bands that like to describe themselves that way. Not that Subway has ever ventured into the ridiculous. From fun folk songs like “Tanz Auf Dem Vulkan” to the eerie polyphony of “Canticum Satanae”, Bastard is the culmination of just about everything that makes Subway To Sally great.

And the number 1 album of the year, as you might have guessed if you’ve been keeping track of the album covers above, is ASP’s Requiembryo. I was skeptical of 2-disc studio albums after Tanzwut’s unrefined Schattenreiter last year, but boy did this one deliver. Combining three of my favorite musical styles - Church liturgy and gregorianesque harmony, folk and world instruments, and metal - I’d name this easily the best album of the decade so far (I’d go back further, but the more I do the more tempers I’ll inflame). The album - especially the second disc’s requiem - is thematically ingenious and musically superb, touching on neoclassical (”Erinnerung Eines Fremden”), medieval (part 2 of “Offährte”), electronic body (”Kyrie (Eleison 2: Mercy)”), punk (”Finger Weg! Finger”), neocelt (”Hymnus: Heaven”), gregorian (”Introitus Interruptus”), folk metal (”Duett (Das Minnelied Der Incubi)”), drum and bass (”De Profundis”), and black metal (”Exsequien: Hell”). I don’t know where this album came from - his past albums have ranged from mediocre to terrible - but wherever it did, I’m hoping there’s going to be more along these lines.

Todd Agnew’s music has always been on the upper end of CCM’s intellectual spectrum. From the biting criticism of the postmodern Church in “My Jesus” to the Christmas story narrative of his album “Do You See What I See?”, nothing he writes can be equated to the trivial pop that pervades CCM.

The last four albums (including his first unsigned album “One Thousand Songs”, which consisted entirely of live worship) have seen Agnew transition from a youth worship leader to more and more of a singer/songwriter lambasting complacency and corruption in the Church, excepting the Christmas project which was a slight diversion from that end, and though he has never been lacking in musical talent, his real strength lies in the lyrical content. Where “Grace Like Rain” was a combination of worship and songs of personal struggle, and “Reflection Of Something” contained personal songs of a more positive nature with a few worship songs thrown in as well as the convicting “My Jesus”, “Better Questions” consists nearly entirely of songs perscriptive for the Church, with only the occasional personal and worship song.

“Prelude” begins the album’s theme of questions on an almost worrying start in saying “So I built my house on what I thought was solid ground / But I know it could be sand” - a very postmodern take on Christianity and faith in general. But fortunately, this is the last trace of doubt in the entire album: “Still Has A Hold” speaks of the inadequacy of the individual to change himself and the power of Christ necessary to that end. “Least Of These” and later “Preachers And Thieves”, though bordering on endorsement of seeker-friendly movements, still carry a valuable message that the goal of the Church is inner before outer transformation and individual conversion before self-edification.

“If You Wanted Me” is the first of the personal songs, musing in trademark somber Agnew style how he, and by implication most of his listeners, would have reacted as various Biblical characters to their situations, in each case not the desirable way, and asking God why following was made to be such a difficult road. “Our Great God” is the first worship song on the album, a classic most people would know from Mac Powell and Fernando Ortega’s rendition on the “City On A Hill” CD. Appearing with Rebecca St. James, the anthemic chorus makes this one of the musical high points of the album.

“Lovers In Our Heads” returns to the provocative string of songs and again speaks in no vague terms against the hypocritical judgments we pour on so many people while “ignoring the lovers in our beds / Our own beds in our heads”. “Peace On Earth”, though probably intentionally hyperbolic, again speaks of the hypocrisy of our racial, familial, and other divisions, and to make clear his thematic point stylistically, even brings in a rapper to complement the folksy instrumentation of the song. Though it may not sound the best to a musical ear, the point he makes is well-reinforced by the addition. “Family” later on makes the same point that since we are all family in Christ, of what importance are our differences?

Don’t Say A Word”, a warning to hold one’s tongue in light of II Corinthians 5:20 (”We are therefore ambassadors of Christ…”) is sandwiched by two personal songs exploring the Romans 7 dilemma (”The good that I wish I do not do…”): “Funny” muses how things like fish and plants can obey God around one - specifically Jonah, and then expanded to himself - who can’t, or doesn’t. On the other side is “War Inside”, Easily the strongest track musically on the album and Agnew’s heaviest to date. Driven by deep electric guitar riffs to complement Agnew’s gruff voice in a very compelling way, the song reapproaches Romans 7 from the perspective of spiritual warfare.

“Martyr’s Song” is another standout track both musically and thematically. Sung from the perspective of God welcoming to Heaven one who has died for His sake, a chorus of children makes the song irresistibly poignant in light of the theme - one markedly different from the next, “On A Corner In Memphis”. Probably one of the most difficult songs on the album, Agnew blasts the superficiality of church services in favor of a man on Beal St., who though the song doesn’t say sings for the Lord or not, is at least singing from his heart. The underlying point is one in need of making, yet it seems at points to reflect the postmodern adage that sincerity of belief matters more than content of belief, and though I’m sure this is not what Agnew intended in the song is still a dangerous philosophy to be treading around.

The album finishes off with two strong tracks, “Can I Be With You”, a poignant reflection on death and the end of things, and “Glorious Day”, the bonus track continuing that thought about what comes after death and the end of things. “Better Questions” certainly contains Agnew’s best musical tracks yet, and though as a whole it still can’t compare to “Grace Like Rain”, it certainly is deeper and more thought-provoking than anything he or arguably anyone in the CCM scene has ever released.

I am not a fan of hip hop. The appeal of that entire subculture remains a mystery to me. Yet Linkin Park, by shunning a “gangster” image even early on was able to get me hooked on (some of) their catchy fusions of hip hop with alternative rock, a genre in which I was somewhat more comfortable.

Their latest album, Minutes To Midnight, is a huge break - stylistically as well as thematically - from their previous two albums. The songs are more contemplative and less “noisy” for the sake of heaviness, and they’ve ditched their “troubled child” image (which at times seemed almost as ridiculous as the gangster image) in favor of something no less angry, but more respectable in its focus - not towards their immediate emotional discomfort, but to more far reaching problems in the human condition.

Though they promised at the album’s onset that they were moving past the nu-metal/rap-rock, rapping is hardly absent. One of the more interesting moments on the album was Bleed It Out, a rap song with a rock chorus set to a square dance beat. Hands Held High was another high point - a long and cynical, yet oddly inspiring rap ballad performed over the background of an organ and picked guitar.

The heaviness of previous albums is matched only in one song - No More Sorrow - a Falscher Heiland-esque spout of anger against a deceptive leader. More common is the sound of their single What I’ve Done - a milder (but hardly soft) rock infused not with full-fledged rap, but occasionally sounds and scratches still somewhat reminiscent of their hip-hop roots.

The album certainly has its low points - non-standout tracks like Given Up and Leave Out All The Rest, for example - but I think this is a promising new direction for Linkin Park - with another album or two like this they could conceivably shake off completely the angsty shackles of their first two.

The more I look at pop music, the more ridiculous it seems to me. Perhaps that seems like a judgmental statement, especially from one whose stylistic tastes aren’t exactly mainstream, but right now I’m not even referring to anything stylistic. It really seems that almost every top pop song of late has been unabashedly self-aggrandising and conceited to the point that it would be funny if it wasn’t serious.

Take, for example, the song “Hips Don’t Lie”, by Shakira, the record-holding song for most radio plays in a week (9637). Shakira and Wyclef Jean sing back and forth to each other for 3:40 about the sexiness of the other on the dance floor. Now they aren’t singing about themselves, but the sections were certainly not written exclusively by their respective singer.

Yet, this isn’t even as bad as it gets. Even the title of MIMS’ “This Is Why I’m Hot” seems so over-the-top that it would be a mocking the feeling that it’s actually displaying. Or how about Paris Hilton’s (perhaps the epitome of conceitedness) entire new album, with such gems as “Fightin Over Me” and “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy”. Or Justin Timberlake’s iconic lyric “I’m bringing sexy back”? The level of self-absorbtion displayed in these songs is as stunning as it is disgusting.

But what’s even more surprising than the fact that tripe like this succeeds is that it succeeds to the detriment of everything else. These are the songs that enter our collective consciousness as a society - the songs that make it onto the radio, into movies, and onto CD and MP3 players. Pop culture is a disease - a gruesome yet all too sweet inevitable product and continual propagator of the consumerist mindset of entitlement and luxury that will eventually rot our already frighteningly gluttonous society from the inside out if it continues on its current course.

I can only hope that with the increasing irrelevance of the record labels that encourage this sort of behavior, we will look back on this time as a dark era for pop music.