And so 2010 draws closer to its end...

I am becoming increasingly out of touch with the world of popular music, which is a sure sign of getting older I suppose. It's not as if I haven't been listening to a lot of music this year, it's just that I have been spending more time looking backwards; turning to artists I might have overlooked to some extent in the past. 2010 is the year I first tried properly listening to the varied likes of Minutemen, Joni Mitchell, Roxy Music and Flipper. None of these, however, are what the "kids" are listening to these days, and I don't think any of them have featured heavily in the NME.

Which left me feeling slightly confused when it came to indulging my annual hobby of compiling a top ten of the best albums released this year, as I felt myself struggling to come up with very much. Scouring my iTunes proved therapeutic though, and I realised there had actually been quite a lot of good albums released this year (even if very few of them were either by new artists or could be said to represent much of a creative departure). So here we go...

LCD Soundsystem - This Is Happening: James Murphy has said that This Is Happening will be LCD Soundsystem's final album. Based on this evidence, if Murphy doesn't find some other outlet for his musical and songwriting talents, it will be a great loss for both anyone who enjoys mature, intelligent music and anyone who simply enjoys dancing. I'm not entirely sure that it is as good as Sound of Silver, but the very fact it is possible to consider this album as comparable to their previous effort should indicate to anyone familiar with LCD Soundsystem's past work that they have exited on a high. Sophisticated, smart and fun.

Les Savy Fav - Root for Ruin: I have to confess that this one passed me by a little bit. I'm ashamed of this fact, as I have been Les Savy Fav fan since college, so was quite surprised to see, a few weeks ago, that they'd had a new album out for a few months. Needless to say I have attempted to make up for lost time since then. Compared to their previous studio album - Let's Stay Friends - Root for Ruin is perhaps treading water a little; if anything, it could be said that it harks back to their earlier material at points. But when the water they are treading is shitkicking art-punk of a kind that nobody else is even close to touching, this is by no means a bad thing, and there is enough here to suggest that Tim Harrington et al have a few tricks left up their sleeves yet. Definitely worth getting hold of.

Joanna Newsom - Have One On Me: I'm not entirely sure about this album. Most people, having suffered from health problems related to their voice, would possibly think twice about releasing a triple album that expands their stylistic horizons whilst also exploring their musical influences. But this is what Newsom did. First time I heard it, I was underwhelmed; it felt like too much, and that the album would have benefited from more brutal editing to reduce its overall running time. However, I then later heard it again around a friend's house on vinyl, a format on which the listening experience is punctuated by the necessity of the turning over and changing of records. Somehow these pauses in the listening experience transformed it into something very different. Since then and having listen to it more I would struggle to identify any particular songs I would happily exclude, so maybe this is the record Have One On Me was always destined to be. Either way, the combination of beauty and ambition means it easily warrants a place among the top releases of the year.

Mike Patton - Mondo Cane: Mike Patton, renowned for his vocal prowess with bands such as Faith No More, Mr Bungle and Fantomas, is not exactly renowned for doing the obvious thing; the last album he released under his own name was an avant garde piece he wrote and conducted based on the Anarchist's Cookbook. But somehow Mondo Cane manages to combine being one of the most approachable and one of the most downright weird works he has ever been associated with. Patton, on this occasion, decided to release an album of versions of cinematic Italian pop music from the 40's and 50's, all recorded on tour with the help of a forty piece orchestra, a choir and a fifteen piece band. Sung primarily in Italian, in Patton's inimitable style that ranges from dark croon to manic wail, Mondo Cane manages to be both strangely familiar - it has Patton's stylistic fingerprints all over it - and utterly alien insofar as these are versions of songs from a time gone by, many of which are rendered in a style in which it is hard to imagine the composers would have ever imagined; Morricone has rarely, if ever, sounded like this before.

Arcade Fire - The Suburbs: Part of me didn't want to like this album. The snobby part of me. Arcade Fire are almost certainly at that point now where, for most bands, their popularity would mean they run the risk of either imploding dramatically or believing their own hype, starting to wear sunglasses indoors all the time and turning in to U2. But, for now at least, their musical inventiveness and lyrical intelligence means that Arcade Fire have sidestepped these options and released arguably the finest album of their career. While it lacks some of the fire of Funeral and brooding apocalypticism of Neon Bible, The Suburbs focuses on the Absurdity (in the truest sense) of the kind of life that so many of us grow up in, and that can so easily consume us. Fun stuff, eh?

Leatherface - The Stormy Petrel: I get the impression that Frankie Stubbs is feeling old sometimes these days. Considering the amount of time that he and Leatherface have been playing some of the most intense and intelligent melodic hardcore music around, this is perhaps unsurprising. It is a terrible injustice that a band as consistently brilliant as Leatherface have remained quite as overlooked as they are; although Stubbs' gravel-raw voice might have something to do with it. Either way, The Stormy Petrel is an excellent addition to their catalogue, and I hope they continue to release music for years to come yet.

Vampire Weekend - Contra: There is something unpleasantly trendy about Vampire Weekend. I've heard that they are popular with young people. And they dress funnily. But despite this, Contra was an essential part of my musical year. The album was released in January, but it is the Summer in which it finds its home. The combination of indie rock with influences from popular African and classical music make it the perfect soundtrack for the discerning music nerd looking for something both fun and intelligent to dance to in the sunshine; an idea attested to in their success on the festival circuit this year. It has to be said that, since the sunshine gave way to rain, clouds and snow, I haven't listened to it half as much, but I am almost certain that come next Summer, it will be back in regular rotation, as there aren't many albums better suited to soundtracking life outside in the warm weather.

Danger Mouse & Sparklehorse - Dark Night of the Soul: It was only in 2010 that, after lengthy legal disputes, Dark Night of the Soul finally got an official release. The fact that by this time Mark Linkous and guest vocalist Vic Chestnutt had both committed suicide adds an extra layer of poignancy to proceedings, but even beside this Dark Night of the Soul is undoubtedly an excellent album. Due to the collaborative nature of the work - it features a dazzling array of talent including Wayne Coyne, Suzanne Vega, Iggy Pop and Gruff Rhys in addition to Linkous and Danger Mouse - it can be a little hit and miss, possibly depending on the listener's feelings for whoever happens to be guesting on any particular song. Any listener should, however, find at least something here to make them appreciate what a great talent we have lost in Linkous. R.I.P.

Beach House - Teen Dream: Dark, lush and melodic, Teen Dream feels something like lost in a space between a dreamstate and waking life; that slightly woozy feeling you get when the sun creeps between the cracks in the curtains. I've managed to find it both strangely comforting and almost unbearably melancholic, largely depending on the mood I happen to be in at the time. Either way, I can't deny the that this is one of the more accomplished and affecting pop albums released this year.

Sam Amidon - I See The Sign: I'm not entirely convinced this is a great album. Although that might just be because I feel slightly guilty about enjoying his cover of R. Kelly's Relief quite as much as I do. There's more to I See The Sign than a magical ability to transform trite pop into something capable of moving even the stoniest heart though. With a voice deeply reminiscent of Nick Drake and a talent for channelling traditional folk music, Amidon has created a deeply engrossing record. Add to that a rather wonderful experience seeing him perform at Green Man this year, and I'm won over.