Outside.

An adventure, merely to run what errands must be ran.
Happiness is within reach… I can feel it inside me, bursting to escape.
Blue sky. Slightest breeze.
The lovely weather man told me it is sixteen degrees today.

Happiness – there it is.

I can taste it.

It envelops me whole, eagerly joined by its accomplices hope, anticipation, nostalgia and inspiration.
Inspiration – the big one.
Blue sky. Sky so blue I couldn’t venture any deeper if I looked into my own blue eyes.
Blue eyes, blue as the deepest, cleanest water…
Errands that must be ran are completed with absolute ease -

I have not yet realised that I have done it again.
I have looked outside at the gorgeous day, the beautiful world, and automatically dressed in summer clothing.
A floral mini dress, sheer stockings, and platform wedges.
The jacket unintentionally stayed in the car while those errands were taken care of.

And then it happens, even if only inside my mind.
Sixteen degrees. Sixteen of them, combined with sky so blue I want to dip my feet in a pool somewhere.
Mangoes and short shorts and sunscreen and feet burning from the unbearable heat the ground you walk upon has absorbed. Air conditioners.
Iced water – nothing else will suffice.
The weather man is unnecessary.
He always tells you the same thing: It’s hot. This is a heat wave. It is thirty five degrees. thirty nine degrees. Oh, wow, it is fourty three degrees. And you should stay inside. And blah, blah, blah.

I can feel it.

Although, tomorrow is yet another day, according to the mean weather man.
Bastard. I bet he does this just to make me sad.
Tomorrow, Tuesday, Wednesday… Rain. Cold.
It doesn’t matter – in the van Aalst household we have a tradition; Lazy Sunday Afternoons.
According to the time keeper, noon has passed.
I cannot contain myself any longer. It’s time to soak up as much vitamin D as possible.
I’ll take my book. I’ll embrace the world, once again… for today is just a sneak preview of what is to come. Oh, Summer, please hurry. I have missed you terribly.

All my love,

The girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

Meet my good friend, Julien.

It is Friday morning, and he is off to work.As you can see, it is raining buckets right now. Luckily, his office is not so far away; it’s right around the corner, in fact. He has a perfectly feasible reason as to why his ‘documents to review’ and lunch are in a plastic bag, as opposed to the expected briefcase of his white-collar type.

Work; it’s hardly something to look forward to.

Work is the alarm rousing him from his first good sleep in days, weeks perhaps. It is still night outside; the time reads 6am.  Like anybody else, he does not want to wake from his pleasant slumber, much less drag himself from the warmth of his bed, only to eject himself into the frigid cold of the tiled, unheated bathroom.
The shower takes far too long to heat up, his extremities burn from the icy water long before it adjusts accordingly to smother him in a steamy, hot flow. So hot and steamy in fact, that he dreads with all of his might  turning the faucet off and leaving the shower, only to end up naked and once again cold in the dismal tiled bathroom.
It’s raining outside. As he’s fumbling in the clean clothes pile on the floor for socks, he realises that his grey trousers are outside, willing themselves to dry on the now drenched clothesline. Oh, fuck… so is the blazer.

Work; it’s the realisation that he must purchase some new attire to parade himself in – all he really has that is suitable is a) on the aforementioned line b) in the dirty clothes basket c) practically beyond wearing if one merely dreams of making an opinion today. It looks as though the three suits he bought on sale a year ago are just about his only option, and it is damned lucky he bought himself a new black belt to keep them from slipping too far down for public eye-consumption throughout the morning.

Juliens car was broken in to on Monday night, and unfortunately because of the hot water system failing over the weekend requiring an emergency $1200 replacement, he has not yet been able to afford to get the central locking installed on his beast. Nor has he the option to replace his [luckily] empty brief case, much less pick up groceries more extravagant than 50cent noodles, reduced-to-clear bread and pre-packaged vegetables to get him through to Thursday night.

That $1200 – it was his entire savings, plus what was budgeted of his last pay to purchase food, necessities and pay a small portion of the never-ending bills. Luckily pay day is tonight. Thursday night, 11pm, or so it seems.

Julien will be sleeping by then, with any luck. One requires a good nights sleep before confronting the all important weekend… a weekend of loneliness, solitude, and despair over his most recent misfortunes.

Only a month ago, he’d have a salvation to turn to, his lovely Keira. Keira, the belle of Juliens life… she’d have carefully caressed him, assured him that everything will indeed be okay, that it had to be – after all, it was just he and she against the big, mean world, and their bond could overcome anything life was to throw at them.

And Julien believed those words, with every ounce of his being, and more.

Only a month ago, he had fallen so desperately for this woman, head over heels if you will accept the terminology. He had been seeing his love for close to six months, simply ‘taking it slowly’ as not to dampen the situation with fear, over zealousness or intimidation. Julien and Keira: Match Made In Heaven. Everybody said so.

Six months in, Julien made his love eternal to Keira. Not with a proposal – their whimsical relationship was far too volatile for that. He simply told her that he loved her, and presented her with a pendant.  A pendant which was to accompany her late grandmothers white gold chain, that she proudly embellished her neck with.

It only took days, weeks perhaps [to be generous to the poor broken soul], for the following events to fully unfold. These are events that Julien refuses to delve into with even his closest friends… but from what we can gather they are not pretty, and he is now the pure, correct definition of lonely.

Loneliness [define] Julien Hamrow  - The handsome, well dressed, successful man that is not yet thirty. It is the beginning of August, and he has stepped off the train, making his solitary way to his work as a Communications Advisor on a dreary Thursday morning. Unseasonal rains suddenly make themselves welcome, and the roads and pedestrian paths become immediately drenched. Julien is thankful that he has his umbrella to keep him company, as people around him try in earnest to hail cabs or duck into coffee shops to escape the weather. As the streets gradually empty around him as he becomes late for work, he feels peace in his solitude, because really, who can be bothered keeping up with the hustle and bustle of everyday normality, of all of the social circumstances one is to navigate their way happily through, day after day, anyway?

Image credit to the wonderful MaRco(s).

Be specific, but not overly descriptive. Be bold, but not irrational. Be brave, but not insensitive. Be kind, but don’t be disheartened by the selfishness of others. Don’t be glass half full. Don’t be glass half empty. You don’t have enough time to be measuring milk the rest of your life.

Be a pain in the arse sometimes; Putting up with you shows how much your friends love you. You don’t have to say it, but show it once in a while. There aren’t enough hugs going around. Give a few now and then, and don’t think of them as free, because they’re not. That’s what makes them special.

Wake up early. Sleep in late. Stay up all night obsessing. Stay away from your own company; other people are easier to get along with. Try new things, but don’t give up the good stuff. Be yourself, but be willing to change.

Write. Words will free your mind. Work in a boring job; that’ll free your mind too. Do something you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life. Tell stories; other people need to know who you are. Some people are better than others, but who they are depends on who you ask.

Go to a concert. See a movie. Stay at home and be lazy instead. It all matters eventually. Take a chance sometimes – go out instead of staying home. Don’t make plans. Being spontaneous makes you interesting. You are weird. That’s what makes you fun. Keep being weird. If anybody asks, don’t tell them you took my advice.

Believe in what you want and who you want, where you want and when you want. More importantly, believe how you want. Live life. You only get one, unless you think you get more, in which case don’t live your life. You get another one, right? There’s time to live later. Right?

And most importantly, above all other things, no matter what you do or who you become:

Save the platitudes. Because platitudes are people too.

And all the Styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some words
To aid in the decay

But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb

A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees

Artist - Song

Dawn. It occurs simultaneously with her profound contemplation, while sitting on the white sand of the beach. Allowing the water to absorb her worries; rob her of those petty insecurities and irrational fears. The world is much more marvellous than she will ever believe.

Ambient temperature. Almost cold enough to warrant the regret of not staying curled up in bed, but the air is so still… so silent that the certainty of yet another warm, sunny day is beginning – another rung on the ladder of existence is ready to be conquered.

How can these feelings be so abundant within her? She is so insignificant – just a lost soul, swimmin’ in a fish bowl… Immersing herself in her very own ghosts of memories past.

Memories, or merely dreams?

She experiences a minor epiphany: It’s difficult to look back if you haven’t let go. Those emotions, the ones that seem to envelop oneself with each important experience are wickedly powerful. The smug smile her mouth and heart can’t help but produce upon thinking about the good times; the fun times… How does that compare to all that addictive laughter, the utter overload of endorphins and such strong, powerful passion for the moments and love for the people she shared them with?

She silently imagines tossing pebbles into the water in front of her. The ripple effect – pure symmetrical beauty at first, fading to absolute nothingness. The ebb and flow of the ocean calms her to the point where the tears from prior times could very well be forgotten, if only temporarily.

Why is life inside her head so real? How can she escape her thoughts, her psyche, just to have a break? A proper dreamless sleep for once in her life, a waking moment where the most prevalent thought she can make sense of is to simply wake up. No confusion, bewilderment or utter amazement regarding the weird and not so wonderful worlds she so surely visited during the night?

As the sun gently awakens the sky from its midnight coloured slumber, the atmosphere inside her mind changes in ways that the sky, the beauty of today cannot. It is just another day, afterall, and the cycle will cease for nothing.

A family with their dogs to her left; somebody eagerly ‘getting their exercise on’ coming from her right. Life resumes as normal, the life that never really stops to begin with. People springing back to normality, ignorant or oblivious to something… anything, as long as it’s their unconscious choosing.

As she lays back into the sand, closes her eyes and allows the beginning of sunrise to sooth her body, she decides to save the nostalgia for another day. A rainy, cold one, perhaps… one where misery is going to happen regardless of all of the external factors that are deliberately making this morning so important. As for now? There is no time to worry – losing herself in this moment is not going to get her anywhere. The glorious transition into a new day, a new beginning… it was only experienced so poignantly with the assistance from the hour she stole from today. She has things to do, missions to accomplish; a life that must be lived.

The world will never slow its pace. The most she can hope to acheive someday is the ability to become part of her own audience, to sit back and enjoy the show…

This new column appears thanks to one of our writer’s drunkenly seeing Frost/Nixon and deciding that commenting on political goings-on are important. A Gen Y opinion is just as important as anyone’s, if not more-so due to us being future “important people”. We will endeavor to comment every week but apologies in advance if it disintegrates.

Here we go, the inaugural edition of The X Edition, in which one of our writers looks at the political developments of the preceding week. We would like to give a slight forward to these opinions; they are half drunken and not necessarily a fully formed argument. Instead, they are a couple of sentences written in the heat of the moment, that hopefully show a little bit more of the truth behind what people think, but don’t normally articulate. This is not definitive, just ideas. It will be Australian-based,but all important issues will be considered.

And for this first edition, the proceeding week is not a constriction; all is fair game.

David Campbell: what has been done to him is unforgivable. In the sense that: who the fuck cares? All the revelations do not infringe on his abilities/priorities as a politician. What he does in his personal life has no standing on his ability as a minister. It was only thanks to a stupid journalist who thought it would be a good idea to reveal this information. The fact that he was using a ministerial car is irrelevant (guess what, government employees ACTUALLY PAY for their cars). Yes, he may have been lying to his wife and family. Yes, it’s a big story now that it’s out.

But.

It has no standing or impact on the NSW Labor Government. And it’s only through the media that it HAS become an issue. (The article in the Sydney Morning Herald about the legal problems faced by the Seven journalist that broadcasted these discoveries is just as morally questionable, by the way).

Tony Abbott: what a week. No matter what people say about Abbott trying to come clean about the way in which politicians operate, his gaff on the 7:30 Report is HUGELY significant. They’ve tried to play it down (and have arguably been successful), but the impact on the Liberal Party will be felt for a number of weeks. The way it develops from here will be interesting (at this point, polls are hugely significant).

Mining Super Tax: The Liberal Party could not have asked for such a platter served to them… The term “tax” is a gift, and any closer readings into the proposal by Rudd and co. reveals that it is NOT a tax. As soon as they mining revenue drops to a certain level, the government will be PAYING the mining companies. In the end, it encourages risky ventures. People need to read into things more, the media will make it seem like the end of the world for the general public if possible because it sells newspapers.

Oil spill: issue, then disappears. The impact of this spill can NOT be underestimated. What is it now, the second biggest spill in history? Yet it’s no longer an “issue”? Pay attention people.

Accountability: at what point are world leaders accountable for their failures? Yes, it seems like a purely theoretical question. But it’s not. The Copenhagen Climate Conference 2009 showed exactly that world leaders are not able to do what they are elected to do. They are meant to change the world. They are meant to make the world a better place to live in. They are meant to represent public opinion. Regardless of whether or not you think climate change is real (ed: if you don’t, fuck off. Seriously. We don’t want you reading),  you can NOT deny that we should be doing things better.

World leaders can be held accountable for crimes against humanity. At what point point is this a realistic possibility? After the world is ruined beyond all possible repair? What about now?

WHY CAN’T WORLD LEADERS BE CHARGED WITH CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY NOW?

Expect The Second Edition this time next week. And please, as always, let us know what you think.

People are excited. Every day is coolers than the last and the rain lasts longer and is more intense, everyone is revelling in it. Girls are hiding their sexual assets with stylish sweaters and scarves, working on ‘less flesh is more desire’ in their image, mini-skirts come off, stockings go on. Every guy has dug out last years jacket and jeans to help keep himself warm.

Everybody goes on about how beautiful the days are, and how wonderful the weather is. Everybody is looking forward to the next hot day on the calendar, and one dip in the mercury is greeted with moans and complaints. I’m guilty of it myself, even though I know that the moment it gets above 30 degree’s I will suffer and suffer until it’s cold again, my blood is too thick for this weather. Summer. It must be amazing…

Everybody goes on about how beautiful the days are, and how wonderful the weather is. Everybody is looking forward to the next rainy day, and one dip in the mercury is greeted with elation. I’m guilty of it myself, and I know that the moment it gets below 20 degree’s I will revel in the crisp and desirable winter air, my blood is perfect for this weather. Winter. It’s amazing…

And it is. By the end of the year everyone will be complaining. Everything is cold, all of the time, cars are cold on the morning commute, streets are cold for the walk to the shop, beaches are ruined. Heaters will strain the power grid to breaking point, maybe even causing cycling blackouts to handle the load. The dream days spent sunning on the beach are long forgotten, because it is simply too cold to venture out and impress people, but anyway, who wants to spend all day submerged in dirty sea water?

People will be dreaming of Summer, every time the temperature starts getting higher and higher there will be celebration, and much discussion. People will appreciate being able to go out without smothering themselves in an inch thick layer of wool or leather and breathing heavily on their fingers so they can adequately operate their car.

It’s a classic case of ‘The grass is greener on the other side’, except it shows how short-term our minds are working. We might dream for years and years about that greener grass and never try and explore it, or we might jump head first in and regret it for even longer. But the seasons continue to change every single year, it’s a constant cycle that we all go through time and time again, yet still we yearn for something different, for the world to be exactly as it isn’t right now.

Every country bumpkin day-dreams about a busier life, and every city slicker day-dreams about the quiet country lifestyle. People who work 9-5 jobs yearn for a break from the cycle, and those working shifts wish they had that simplified routine. It keeps us sane to be able to uncomplicate the world we live in with a two dimensional paradise in our thoughts, it breaks the monotony of our lives with a touch of freedom.

Wow. Deja vu…

Roughly five months ago, I had a horrible realisation. So very subtly, over time, I was noticing a real sensitivity in my vision – it was suddenly necessary to upsize the font on my monitor and sit much farther away from it, and reading a book was impossible without getting my squint on. About four months ago, I trundled off to the eye doctor, already speculating the appointment, the outcome, and freaking out over whether getting glasses was going to be incredible or utterly soul destroying.

Secretly, I love glasses, and have for years. I believe they have the potential to add style and intelligence to a character. I’m going to dare to assume that you are currently thinking that is a stupid view to possess, but really. Is it?

You see, when I was really young I sported my very own coke bottle specs. And when you’re very young things that make you individual aren’t considered classy or unique, they’re just fuel for the tease monsters to absorb. Combining my glasses with my bucked teeth, speech impediment and tomboyish love for lego and toy cars pretty much ensured I would have below the minimum requirement of friends to be classes as socially acceptable through majority of my school life.

Anyway, that is enough nostalgia/total bitterness from my early life. What I am really trying to say here may have something to do with individuality, but also with the raw, uncooked process of choosing the perfect spectacles.

Upon the results of my examination, the opticion carefully said to me “Well, you are definitely long-sighted. And while glasses aren’t an absolute necessity for you, they may just help you to focus better whilst on the computer or reading…” blah blah. The primary thing cycling through my mind was “Oh my gosh, glasses. Something new! Yay!! Now go and let me pick some frames.” This, of course, is exactly how I DIDN’T reply. I wonder if he and I agree on the sentence prior to this one…? Oh well. The point was, I had a decision to make.

I spent a very gleeful hour perusing the racks, trying on anything and everything, and eventually narrowing it down to about seven completely different frames. One of those was the perfect pair; a gorgeous black and clear Dolce & Gabbana set. The $500 [frames alone] price tag tried so hard to refrain me… and magically worked for just long enough. Luckily for me, it was a very quiet day at the Optometrist, and my assistant was just pleasant enough to patiently offer his opinions, suggest items and be lovely in general. D&G frames. Nothing else. And then he merrily chirped “Oh! We have this cabinet of older stock! What about these, and these, and….” Seven or eight more frames swam out to be judged. And then I fell in love, all over again. Ray Bans. These were truly sexy frames; neutral enough on the face but to look at just gorgeous with their purple and gold opalescent finish.

I was highly frustrated now that I was narrowed down to two options. Those of you who know me will simply laugh at my inability to make a simple decision. And for those of you that don’t, well lets rewind to this morning – breakfast time. I was starving. It took me 45 minutes to choose between toast and oats for breakfast, even with my husband quizzing me and trying to encourage me one way or the other. It turned out that I made the wrong decision by having toast, and spent the next half hour rhetorically beating myself up because all I wanted was to go back in time and have oats instead.

I took advantage of my metaphorical “Call A Friend” card. And called Dave, and my mum. Both, of course, didn’t care either way and were probably just annoyed that I was yet again being so quizzical over nonsense. Another 45 minutes passed me by. In the end I just made the decision I knew I was going to make since the beginning, and very reluctantly/excitedly purchased the clearance Ray Ban frames, for at least $300 less than the boring black designer ones would have set me back.

Today? I couldn’t be happier. I will carefully fail to mention the week or so of agony I endured having my eyes adjust to wearing glasses for short range vision, and the absurd amount of times I complained that they were just doing more harm than good, how the doctor was useless and the unbearable headaches were beyond ridiculous. I can see clearly now, and I no longer struggle to keep my eyes awake after reading three pages of a novel. Clarity is not always a bad thing. And whilst I hardly wear them in public, they are yet another addition to my case of individuality – something that is mine and mine only that is content enough to sit alongside my psychedelic stockings, patchwork hat and hot pink velvet boots.

The spectacles have unlimited potential to make me feel smart, and even a little bit sexy. Maybe I could be like those sexy nerd girls – the ones with nice bodies, gorgeous faces and black plastic rims surrounding their seeing organs. Those sexy nerd girls, the ones everybody fantasises about, the ones everybody envies. Or maybe, just maybe, I could be me. Can I instill this new confidence in myself enough to be a different person? No matter what I need, what I wear, I am still just going to be me. And like a great percentage of women out there, the grass will always be greener on the other side, and no matter what I do or how I experiment with the unique flavour I will still just be me. So perhaps I’ll just work with what I have, and be satisfied with reality.

I can’t deny that I like being noticed. Isn’t that what expressing yourself is all about? Let me know how you express yourself in the big, bad world.

When I was 15 years old my father told me that I lived with my head in the clouds, and that I would never accomplish anything in the real world if my mind was always in a fantasy one.

Ten years later I know him well enough to realise that he was simply trying to be what could be considered a ‘good father’ and not speaking entirely from the heart. Perhaps it had something to do with his own insecurities, but you’re not here to read about his, you’re here to read about mine…

Cue an artistic scene with the hands on a clock turning in reverse, clouds rolling backwards in the sky, leaves falling back onto the branches of trees, and the pages of a calendar flipping in reverse… I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, or even the age that my love for science fiction began, but I know it was early in my development.

I would never sit down to watch a straight-up action film. The gore, violence and thoughtlessness of it all never sat well with me. Hell, when I was a kid, I’d cover my eyes if there were boobs on screen.

But I would love to watch the Predator films, because despite all the violence I was intrigued by a visitor from another world and the unique way it interacted with our own. So while my older brother was watching Robocop for the action and violence, I, later in life, barely remember the pivotal early scene where Murphy was gunned down in a steel mill (I had to look that up). What I remember most is the technology. Sure, the dystopian future of Detroit may have been policed by Ford Taurus’ painted in chalkboard black, but prop quality aside, the technology of this future was riveting! I would play for hours, imagining that I too could extract a weapon from my cybernetic leg to gun down make-believe villains, and that my own vision was augmented by a futuristic HUD.

My maturation in life was influenced strongly by a few factors, one of them being my darling mother who instilled in me chivalry and a sense of right that has served me incredibly well. Another, being school. Of course, I mean the lack of school – because while I never felt comfortable in that controlled and peer-influenced society, my willing extraction from it allowed me to grow to a different design.

Though most of all, it was Star…

Without breaking into a nerdgasmic debate about the pros and cons of Star Trek and Star Wars, they both had a very different influence on my life.

Star Wars was a phenomenon that took science fiction to a very accessible adventure level and helped it attain mainstream status for lots of people. Yes, it certainly did so for me! Thankfully, due to the Special Edition re-release I was able to see the trilogy in the cinema despite only being born in 1984. It drove home an already large love for the films that progressed on to reading all the Expanded Universe novels available at the time, and, I’ll admit, roleplaying with friends. Star Wars entertained the tastes of anybody who enjoyed a film in which good triumphed over evil, the guy got the girl (perhaps to disturbing results in one case) and everyone lived happily ever after…except the Ewoks.

Star Trek, however, was something different. Through its many iterations, it has spent over 40 years building a rich universe inhabited by as many clichés and stereotypes as you can poke a mek’leth at. Reflecting cultural stereotypes and persecutions, the creators always tried to push the envelope of what was acceptable, and as time passed, more was allowed to be broadcast. Star Trek grew and matured, and I matured with it. In actual fact, science fiction has taught me more about social issues and sexuality than a government approved syllabus could ever bestow.

These beginnings have created in me a tendency to prefer anything that has a laser in it rather than a gun, a deep thought piece about the tragedy of loneliness but set on the moon, or a terrifying thriller aboard a space craft. It would appear to be the perfect formula for a stereotypical science fiction fan, with the collectibles; the costumes; the nerdy friends.

So the insecurities, father issues, and the dark side of it all? Well, dear readers. I am a science fiction fan, I couldn’t end it all succinctly in one neat go…

There’s always a sequel…

Admittedly, my favorite albums of the year would number well over 20. So instead, I whittled it down, excluded weird fucked up shit that only I like (or have listened to) amongst our small fraternity and decided on a condensed list that I know at least 2 other people here really liked as well.

Looking over the top five, I can’t help but hate the fact that the majority of them were big albums released on major labels, that received widespread acclaim. Some of the music I’ve loved this year was released only on cassettes, which I acquired through…alternative means, because seriously, a limited release of 100 cassettes that sell out in three days? How am I meant to get a hold of that???? A handful of them were stunning, and deserve to be on this list. But if no one can get hold of them, what’s the point?

But still, the top five are big, popular releases. It goes to show that occasionally the stars align and popular opinion agrees on things that are actually good. God help us all when Avatar wins Best Picture next month.

Anyhow, here it is.

5. The Flaming Lips – Embryonic

Is it like the Lips releases from the past 15 years? No, it’s nothing like The Soft Bulletin or Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots. It’s a big, overwhelming, underproduced mess. And it’s stunning. Best Lips release of the last 15 years? No.

It’s their best ever.

4. The Field – Yesterday and Today

Taking the short loops of popular records he perfected on his debut (2007′s From Here We Go Sublime), complimenting them with live instrumentation, and extending the fuck out of the song lengths (resulting in just 6 songs over the course of an hour). O, and throwing in a cover of an 80′s pop track by The Korgis? Resulted in 2009′s most amazing bliss-out techno imaginable. And dare I say it, eclipsing the debut.

3. Moritz Von Oswald Trio – Vertical Ascent

Improvised techno? Electronic jazz? What can this music possibly be called? Three giants of the electronic music crowd, Moritz Von Oswald, Max Loderbauer, and Sasu Ripatti (aka Vladislav Delay), create something truly original in the now innovation-less techno world. There’s nothing like it.

2. Fever Ray – Fever Ray

Side project from the elusive The Knife vocalist Karin Dreijer Andersson. Slightly more mainstream than The Knife, but also darker. And it’s all the better for it. Treated, spine-tingling vocals, over the top of (frankly) brilliant minimal electronica. If our number one is the perfect summer album, this album is for those freezing cold, middle of winter nights when the air is full of fog, yet the full moon illuminates everything. Any other year this would be number one.

1. Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion

Well, I was right. I said it from the beginning. Without a doubt, the number one album of 2009 is Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion. Most of my fellow bloggers would agree.

What could be better than a swirling kaleidoscopes of synthesisers, sublime vocal rounds, a-child-stuck-in-a-man’s-body lyrics, and, well, My Girls?

Quite simply the best summer album ever. Yes ever. Fuck the Beach Boy’s Pet Sounds. This is where it’s at. Psychedelic music for the internet generation. Album of the year, no question.

If anyone reading haven’t heard Merriweather Post Pavilion or Fever Ray, do it, right now. You won’t regret it.

Comments? What were your albums of the year?