First, a brief word about Pitchfork, as they are the itch that I can never stop scratching, and I will let that come between you, the reader, and my various other opinions. I find myself softening to their wiles these days, as I recall some of the amazing records I first heard as a result of their reviews when I was a little bit younger. You Forgot It In People, for one, when I was almost 16–Michigan, for another, six months later. There is only one thing that makes Pitchfork any worse than NME, or Rolling Stone, or any of the other behemoths that have had a near-monopoly on cool in previous eras. It is their desire to be objective, and the massive, weighty pretense that results from their success in appearing to be objective. As if such a thing were possible–as if the evaluation of music were a science, and all those great critics, from Adorno to Bangs, did not recognize the ever-near borders of absurdity that they necessarily encountered. That acknowledgment of the futility of objectivity in arts criticism is what sets great criticism apart from the style of writing that has coalesced in recent years at Pitchfork.

That being said, I think that they have improved a bit in the last year, and that includes their best-of list, regardless of whether I disagree with many of their choices. Hopefully they will continue to improve, as their focus becomes more and more closely reconciled with American and international pop tastes, (and as those tastes become more closely reconciled with Pitchfork’s continued influence) at the expense of their previous allegiance to specific genres. It is a positive development.

Now then! This list of mine, unlike Pitchfork’s, is not about objectivity–it’s just about personal enjoyment. These are the records that I enjoyed the most this year, filtered through the strong (and often unacknowledged) bias of the present. These are in no order.

Aaron Roche – !BlurMyEyes

Aaron Roche loves chamber music and American folk music equally, and much like Sam Amidon before him, those two disciplines mix in unexpected and delicious ways on this record. But where Sam Amidon has stayed in folk’s performative tradition so far, mostly performing interpretations of others’ works, Aaron blurs the line entirely, writing songs that resonate in the simple way of early blues, but that remain utterly contemporary.

Hallock Hill – The Union

Tom Lecky is so much more than a fingerstyle guitarist, and that is part of what I love about both of his releases this year (the other is called There He Unforeseen). All of the typical new-age signifiers–soundscapes, for one–fall short. His music sounds like inhabiting an otherwise empty colonial house in upstate New York in late fall; it sounds like the barren beauty of Andrew Wyeth’s best paintings.

A Winged Victory for the Sullen – S/T

I’m a longtime fan of Stars of the Lid, and a longtime agnostic when it comes to Dustin O’Halloran, partially because I spent much of my college years writing similar Satie-esque piano miniatures, and so they don’t cast as much of a spell on me. But regardless, his work here with Adam Wiltzie, one half of Stars of the Lid, is great in its seeming simplicity. The golden ambient swells one has grown to expect from the Austin duo are paired with more concrete arrangements for piano and strings here, no doubt at least partially O’Halloran’s impeccable doing.

The War On Drugs – Slave Ambient

When describing this record to a friend the other day, I said, “think Tom Petty meets My Bloody Valentine.” While rooted in truth, it’s a misleading and rather ugly comparison to what this actually sounds like–the textural fireworks here, similar to those that one might have expected from Kevin Shields twenty years ago, dovetail impressively with the train-like rhythms of these expansive songs.

Alexander Turnquist – Hallway of Mirrors

Upstate New York is becoming kind of a gold mine of forward-thinking guitar soloists. Between Lecky, Turnquist, and Anastasia Clarke, I begin to think of their work as related, even if they do not actually embody a movement. Turnquist’s record this year exemplifies the 12-string technique that he has been working on in a new way. Rather than evoking formidable contemporaries of his (Blackshaw, for one), this sounds pretty singular to me.

King Creosote and Jon Hopkins – Diamond Mine

I didn’t get this record at first. My epiphany came when I stopped allowing myself to separate the ambient sections and the song-oriented sections from one another. In order to appreciate this album, it all needs to cohere in your mind, and then you see the incredible bucolic tenderness of it all. I don’t know much about King Creosote, but now I can’t imagine his songs when they aren’t paired with such lovely ambient work.

The Weather Station – All Of It Was Mine

An album that is straightforward in its beauty, much like the depiction of Tamara Lindeman, the songwriter behind these recordings, on the cover. There isn’t much else to say about this one–on the one hand it evokes those West Coast folk records of the early 70’s, but this sounds so at home with itself, so unpossessed by pretense, that it belongs to no particular era–not now, not ever. That timelessness is impossible and even harmful to aim for, but when it happens on its own, it is remarkable.

Frank Fairfield – Out on the Open West

I would have never expected to find a young, self-styled “old-time” musician with as much discipline and vitality as Frank Fairfield in this day and age, but here he is. Arguably equally skilled on guitar, fiddle, and banjo, Fairfield’s originals and traditionals bleed together with an easy reverence for each other’s respective need to exist.

Sandro Perri – Impossible Spaces

I saw Sandro Perri open up for Valgeir Sigurdsson and Nico Muhly at a church on the Upper East Side four or five years ago, and I liked him then, although there was a certain unresolved tension between his performance and the space. Afterward, listening to his records under his name and the name “Polmo Polpo,” I began to understand his versatility. His biggest strength, I think, is the way he arranges his percussion, making it the most important part of so many of his songs. Not everything on this record is successful, in my opinion, but there is a rare fearlessness to it all that I admire.

The Field – Looping State of Mind

The Field’s music is overpowering and hypnotic and beautiful. I’d rather not talk about it–just listen to it and decide for yourself if you haven’t already.

Real Estate – Days

Real Estate have become this era’s best guitar-oriented indie rock band, that’s for sure. I did sound in college for what I think was their second or third show, and we could all tell that they had this in them. For me, though, there is a second element here, one that repels me and attracts me: nostalgia for our home state. It’s a dangerous thing, and one that I try to avoid. But here I just can’t. It’s all in this record, the melodies tightly wound, driving around aimlessly in the densely-packed suburbs. These songs are a little bit square, a little too smooth-faced, just like we all were. Jersey bands like Yo La Tengo and the Feelies are strong influences, yes, but the more abstract, sentimental ghost of the guitar music of the mid-60’s looms larger, at least for me.

The following people also put out great records this year, and were in contention for spots on this list at various times: Anna Calvi, Bill Callahan, Cass McCombs, Bonnie Prince Billy, Zachary Cale, The Men, Bill Orcutt, BOBBY, PJ Harvey, Boy Without God, Joshua T. Pearson, Nick Jonah Davis, and Tim Hecker. I know I’m forgetting a few, too.