We know, we know. It was meant to come all the way back in early December, but due to us having far too much fun or better things to do, like working on getting rid of all those pesky hangnails, it's being delivered just under a month late. Doesn't make it any less amazing. You may have gathered Shiny & New is predominately authored by two main (and mayjah) hemes (homos in Polynesian), with one massive lesbian occasionally flitting in to inflict scorn on everything anti-kd lang and various other sluts and wannabees writing now and then. The two mayjah hemes took it upon themselves to compile this list, in their opinion, the ten best* albums released between January 1st and December 31st of 2008. You will find the favourite album of each writer and their explanation, along with the eight runner ups, SCROLL DOWN NOWWW.
*Best, in this sense of the word, being defined as anything sufficiently amazing, fierce, fabulous, 'on it', hilarious, spine-chilling, etc. 
Adele – 19Layers upon layers of lush strings, enchanting xylophones and shiver-inducing bass fail to mask the magnificent sound bursting from this born-and-bred-and-yes-genuinely-common-as-muck Londoner’s lungs. Her debut features heart-breaking paeans to lost love alongside breath-taking soul orchestrations, showing a wide range of musical capabilities concealed by a mistakenly brought about “new Amy Winehouse” facade.
Camille – Music HoleThe French Bjork done good with a thigh-slapping, knees-up, non-stop whirldwind tour through her sprawling imagination. Perfectly formed little acappella vignettes depicting everything from wild ducks, to tea parties, to vocal Divas, monks and waves this was a unique album of assured genius.
Girls Aloud – Out of ControlContinuing their practise of improving their craft with each new album, the Girls returned with perhaps their most consistently brilliant album yet, exhibiting epics crawling with early 80s disco synths, Motown-referencing calls to the dancefloor and a surprising jig featuring an ex-member of the Smiths on mouthorgan defying the listener to stay still.
Joan As Police Woman – To SurviveSimilar to Feist in her skill of making ordinary musical instruments and hushed vocals sound extraordinary, Joan Wasser crafted an album of astounding beauty and mastery. Blending unconventional structures with almost classical sounding musical turns, this was a triumph.
Lady GaGa – The FameThis was the sound of a thousand synthesizers exploding musical cum all over the world. Many hailed a successor to Madonna’s throne. We think they might finally be right. A club brat from New York turned disco dance diva, this was an album packed full of spooky, otherworldy super smash megahits. All attempts to keep from dancing to this ended in failure.
Ladyhawke – LadyhawkeLauded as “Cyndi Lauper for the American Apparel age”, Ladyhawke continues the trend of referencing (and down-right stealing) 80s alternative pop motifs and splatters them all over her menacing, neurotic lyrics. We particularly love the merciless destruction she plans to unleash upon the next male she happens to be scorned by.
Lykke Li – Youth NovelsNot the new Robyn, but the antithesis to her. Shy, awkward and self-conscious, this was more than just a polite alt-pop opus. It was the sound of Nordic pop colliding with trumpets, handclaps, piano, saxophones and a heap of musical promise.
Santigold – SantogoldInsultingly so, Santigold’s reputation has yet to stretch further then “the new M.I.A.”. Her musical boundaries happen to stretch much further than our favourite Bangladeshi child-bearing self-publicist, with no less than eight stark genres woven together in amongst the masterpieces that lay in wait on her eponymous debut. This girl knows her shit – and don’t you dare tell her she’s an R’n’B artist on the basis of her skin colour.
Madonna – Hard CandyMadonna’s most recent incarnation sees her as the confectionary-toting dominatrix of 2008, a nod to her Miss Dita persona of the early 90s Erotica era, but with lollipops ñ made from sugar. Reviewers, fans, record executives alike ñ even Madonna herself ñ were quite aware 2005’s Confessions on a Dancefloor would be a tough act to follow, and while I don’t think anyone would say Hard Candy topped Confessions, I’m sure I’d have some support in stating it gave it a good shot. Attitude’s brief review stated it in a satisfyingly succinct manner; ‘A brilliant pop album, but Madonna can do better.’
Opener ‘Candy Shop’ attempts to set the tone for the rest of the album, however the thinly-veiled call to eat Madonna’s vagina is quite separate from the lush synths and layers of the electro-guitar lament ‘Miles Away’, the Nile Rodgers nod from the menacing ‘She’s Not Me’ and the irresistible ‘Beat Goes On’, complete with token rap from well known African American rap artist.
It may encroach on flawlessness, but debut single ‘4 Minutes’ is really the only track which puts Timbaland’s tricks of the trade to noticeable use, while the follow-up ‘Give It 2 Me’ stands with La Stefani’s second album in the Hall of Pharrell’s Not So Amazing Work. However, Hard Candy definitely does show promise. While an anomaly in Madonna’s track run of working with 'unknown’ producers, her personal stamp on the album is clearly recognisable amidst the fog of Justin Timberlake’s irritating backing vocals and Danja’s repetitive synths.
The glorious ‘Devil Wouldn’t Recognise You’ demonstrates the entrancing song-writing talents of Madonna’s folk singer brother-in-law Joe Henry (see ‘Don’t Tell Me’ and ‘Push’), while album closer ‘Voices’ provides the listener with a spine-tingling climax to a mixed bag of tricks. For every dull ‘Spanish Lesson’ there is a captivating ‘Heartbeat’. The listener cannot help but wonder whether it would have been in the better interests of the album’s quality if Madonna was not so blatently intent on making a mark on the American charts; either way, it cannot be denied that Hard Candy is a pleasurable dessert to end the Queen of Pop’s reign at Warner Bros.
Erykah Badu – New Amerykah Part One (4th World War)Erykah Badu has been enchanting listeners as the ‘First Lady of Neo Soul’ since her first album, Baduizm, was released in 1997 but until this, her fourth studio album, she hadn’t taken such a risk, artistically. Her first three albums, whilst solid and beautifully crafted works, serve more as patchworks of interweaving thoughts, drifting amongst slowly shifting grooves, beats and Erykah’s distinctive voice, as opposed to being fully formed and cohesive collections of songs, like New Amerykah Part One.
Quite what prompted her to make such a change in direction, from being content to essentially go with the flow musically, to make an album like this, of such stark, unusual and controversial beauty, one can only imagine, but whatever it was, it can only be good.
Opening with Amerykahn Promise on which Erykah appears to be welcoming immigrants to the US of A and explaining the skewed principles of the ‘promised’ land upon which they have arrived with biting irony, she makes her mission clear. This is not just an album of existentialist breakup songs, or hazy grass-fuelled musings on life. This time, it’s political. And despite the potentially disastrous results of that, it turns out fantastically well.
This year Solange Knowles declared that she’d like to be “the black Björk”. Unfortunately for her, though, Erykah Badu comes much, much closer. Working with a kind of feverish musical genius and finding that magical balance between being a true sonic innovator and making gorgeous and life-affirming music, Erykah turns out the most artistically adept album of the year.
Whether it’s on The Healer on which she declares, over spooky and achingly slow swells of darkly rhythmic chimes and bells that hip hop is “bigger than the government”, or on Me in which she sing-songs a potted version of her childhood accompanied by a slow, rubato trumpet, there is plenty to savour here.
And Erykah makes her strange political reflections manifest without beating you round the head with them. On Twinkle, the track breaks down half way through giving way to genuinely eerie African chanting and a sample of Peter Toole’s infamous society-bashing monologue from Oscar-winning movie Network (also used to frightening effect in cult internet conspiracy-theory movie Zeitgeist). From images of drug dependency to addressing Hurrican Katrina or black-on-black crime, Erykah expertly melds musical innovation with lyrics of substance and importance – a rare and wonderful skill.
The album closes with Telephone, a seven minutes tribute to J Dilla, a neo soul music producer and close friend of Badu’s, and provides the listener with material much closer to her previous work: personal, ambling, gorgeous in its relative simplicity. One hopes that soon she feels comfortable enough to return to that ground. But in the mean time, her scathing yet subtly and brutally beautiful attack on the so-called “American Dream” is so captivating and inventive, we can only hope the second installment lives up to the first one’s artistic merits
The ever coherent (ahem) Queen of Soul, Erykah Badu, has taken to the internets to express a view. Yes it's not the easiest thing to read, but damn, this woman is talented, so we're willing to let it slide and not go all teacher on her ass. No spelling corrections here. Her recent rant (posted on her headfuck of a Twitter account) attacks rappers who've abandoned "the boom bip and the hump" in order to make techno-pop:
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