Here’s the completion of my ten. Next post will be bottom five.

6. The Wire : I finally caved to the whims of numerous friends and media outlets who insisted that this show was the greatest thing in the history of mankind. Having watched the first season, I understand where they’re coming from. It does so many things that I wish 24 would do: fleshes out supporting characters, avoids contrived plot twists, develops fruitful side plots, casts aside any notion of caricature, and most of all, maintains some sense of realism. I also understand the trade-off—The Wire is not as pulse-pounding as 24, except for a few occasions—but as the last few seasons of 24 have demonstrated, pursuing the big thrill gets in the way of the long-term payoff. I’ve started season two, but since I’m only through one episode right now I can’t comment on the further trajectory.

7. Foals – Antidotes: The advance of Antidotes, Foals’ debut album on Sub Pop, sat in a poorly marked folder on my hard drive for what seemed like ages. I remember digging the first track, “The French Open,” but getting annoyed by “Cassius” and not giving the rest of the record a chance. My annoyance threshold for modern dance-punk is decidedly small, particularly in the vocals department, but giving Antidotes a full listen made me appreciate its place in the recent surge in the genre. My issue with Bloc Party—my initial reference point for Foals—was how they tangled up their Gang of Four fetish with a vague approximation of that band’s political platform, which came across as a modern-day version of U2’s “Let’s change the world” mindset. Foals is thankfully smart enough to avoid U2 as a reference point, reminding heavily of pre-Mirrored Battles in their arrangements and early Q & Not U (and Bloc Party at times) in the delivery. Having David Sitek of TV on the Radio produce the album was a smart move, giving depth to an already elaborate framework. While the Battles-aping “Two Steps, Twice” surges once the chorus hits, the comparative ease of “Olympic Airways” does the best job of putting my occasional unease about the genre to rest.

8. Michael Azerrard – Our Band Could Be Your Life: According to the inscription on the inside cover, I got my copy of this book for Christmas in 2001 and probably read it over that winter break. My initial read caused me to fill in some of the major gaps in my collection; I remember tracking down Mission of Burma, Dinosaur Jr., and older Sonic Youth while making a mental note to eventually hit the other bands I’d missed. That mental note has come to fruition in the last few years, with the Minutemen, the Replacements, and Minor Threat coming into my collection. Hell, I even picked up a used copy of the first Butthole Surfers EP a few weeks back, even though I’d vowed to ignore their existence after the Touch & Go affair. Re-reading the chapters on those bands has been quite rewarding, if somewhat less informative now that I’ve been focusing on 1980s American post-punk.

9. They Live: Comcast’s OnDemand listings are usually the dregs of cable movies, but after reading an entry into The Onion’s AV Club’s New Cult Canon series, I was thrilled to get another chance to see it. I admittedly drifted for the first thirty minutes of the film, but once the plot is exposed, They Live holds up as a far more scathing companion to Repo Man’s social criticism. Elsewhere in the New Cult Canon, Clerks gets scoffed at, perhaps rightly so, but I’m far more interested in seeing what they think of Primer, one of my favorite films from this decade. Perhaps they’ll even say what Shane Carruth is up.

10. The Photographic - Pictures of a Changing World: Every now and then I enjoy chiming guitars and gradual swells in instrumental rock form. Now is one of those times. The Photographic isn’t breaking any ground here—Explosions in the Sky is the biggest touchstone—but they pull it off and that’s enough for a few listens.