If I broke something every time I wanted to this year while listening to Clamfight‘s superb self-released masterpiece of fuck-shit-uppery, Volume I, I’m pretty sure I’d have no possessions left. Even things that you don’t normally think of breaking, I’d have gotten to. Like shoes, or the ceiling. Somehow, although I’ve probably been through this record a hundred times by now, I’ve managed to restrain myself, and my material life as I know it remains intact… but there’s always the next time.

“Fuck Bulldozers,” “Viking Funeral,” the stellar “Ghosts I Have Known” and “Swordfishing is an Ancient and Noble Art”; it was like Clamfight were doing me a personal favor by writing these songs. As though they sat down and said, “Oh here you go, big guy. You’ll like this.” And they were right. I fucking loved it. I knew when I first heard it that Volume I was going to be my favorite unsigned release of 2010, and it absolutely was.

Lethal. Fucking. Groove. Stay tuned in 2011 for release news about their next album, and if you haven’t picked up Volume I, get in touch with the band via their Facebook to do so. I know I recommend a lot of records on this site, but if you’ve ever been into sludge, thrash or that which is stonerly, and you miss out on Clamfight, you’re doing yourself a major disservice. Go ahead and take a listen. You deserve it.

Before I actually knuckled down and bought it, I was kind of annoyed Fuzzorama Records wouldn’t send me a finished copy of Swedish fuzz rockers Asteroid‘s masterpiece second album, II. Entitled prick that I am, I thought maybe I’d earned it with all the sucking off I did of the release between my extensive review, interview and other posts. Hell, II was my number one pick for the first half of 2010! I recall it being with some resignation that I finally made the purchase.

Then I got the thing, and if you haven’t picked it up, then you don’t know, but the packaging is beautiful — it’s this gorgeous die-cut digibox fold-out kind of thing with the panels as part of the artwork itself. Suddenly it made sense. I wouldn’t give that shit away either! Fuck that. Let the reviewers buy it. Score one for Fuzzorama.

Actually, score two for Fuzzorama, because the album itself is magnificent. The only reason I mention the artwork now is because I really think I’ve exhausted everything else there is to say about Asteroid‘s second outing; the increased jam feel, the stunning vocals, the memorable songwriting and much more all well documented by now in the annals of searchable Obelisk lore. It may not have ended up in the top five at the end of the year, but I have the feeling when/if this list gets revisited in 2011, I’ll still be rocking II while others have fallen by the wayside. It’s a keeper in every sense. I’m glad I bought it.

When I interviewed Yawning Man guitarist/mastermind Gary Arce earlier this year, he told me that when he was first beginning to develop his tone it was the likes of Bauhaus and Lords of the New Church who were his principal points of inspiration. Listening to Yawning Man‘s latest studio effort, Nomadic Pursuits, it seems an unlikely source for such sonic sweetness, and let there be no question that Arce — one of the most central figures in the birth and growth of desert rock — has made the sound his own over the course of Yawning Man‘s decades together.

Nomadic Pursuits reunited Arce with bassist Mario Lalli (also of Fatso Jetson) and drummer Alfredo Hernandez (also formerly of Kyuss/Queens of the Stone Age), and from front to back, it was one of the most complete and engaging atmospheres I heard all year. The album had texture for days. I remember taking it with me up to Vermont when I stayed there July into August, and it was like my fallback position. I must have listened to it every day at least once. “What’s for lunch?” Cheese and Yawning Man. Who could complain?

Of course, Arce is prolific as ever, and 2011 promises offerings from collaborative projects with Sons of Alpha Centauri (Yawning Sons) and Hotel Wrecking City Traders, plus there’s the new Big Scenic Nowhere project with Lalli and Fatso Jetson drummer Tony Tornay, and Arce is also rumored to have moved to Oregon and started working with new players there, so who the hell knows what’s coming next? Whatever it is, and whatever happens with Yawning Man from here on out, the appeal of Nomadic Pursuits is bound to last longer than just this one year.

Kylesa‘s first album for Season of Mist, Spiral Shadow became something of a lesson about life in the age of digital promos. In my review of the album, I raved about the genius of the 10-plus-minute title-track. Extensively. When I finally bought the record to include it in the Southcast, I found the title track to be half as long. I still don’t know what the story was, if they edited the song down, if there was some fluke in my mp3s or what. The songs on the physical product were also in a completely different order.

The result is I’m not sure which version of Spiral Shadow I like better, but suffice it to say both kick considerable ass. Hearing Kylesa embrace their inner prog was a high point of 2010 for sure, and between cuts like the aforementioned “Spiral Shadow” (still pretty good at 5:12), the stomping “Drop Out” and the viciously catchy “Don’t Look Back” — which is probably one of my favorite single songs of the year — there was just about no way Kylesa wasn’t going to make the top 10.

They’ve established a very solid chain of consistency between Spiral Shadow and last year’s Static Tensions, and with all the touring they’re doing (winter 2011 dates have been announced), they can only add to the momentum. Kylesa has never really had a steady lineup, but with the creative core of guitarist/vocalist/producer Phillip Cope, guitarist/vocalist Laura Pleasants and a duo of drummers, they nonetheless crafted one of 2010’s best albums in Spiral Shadow.

Between this and yesterday’s live review, that’s two days in a row of writing about NYC rockers The Brought Low, and as far as I’m concerned, those are two good days. Even though I made this list weeks ago at this point, seeing New York‘s most powerful power trio play live again this past weekend only reaffirmed how much they belong on it. The Brought Low are killer heavy rock. End of story.

Third Record was their second release for Small Stone, and it rested on the mighty groove of tracks like “The Kelly Rose” and “My Favorite Waste of Time” just as much as the wistful emotionality of its ballads, “A Thousand Miles Away” and “Last Man Alive.” It opened catchy with “Old Century” and was enough to keep me coming back to The Brought Low for the whole year. And seriously, it was just about the whole year. I reviewed this thing in February.

I don’t think The Brought Low are ever going to be an album-a-year kind of band, but when they do get to putting out records, they’re killer. Third Record is the closest the band has come to capturing their formidable live energy on tape, and it was genuinely worth the four-year wait to get it. As the band matures, they only seem to get better, and of Small Stone‘s several really strong offerings in 2010, The Brought Low was most definitely among the upper crust.

Brant Bjork‘s ninth solo album in just over that many years, Gods and Goddesses saw him refine the fuzzy desert tones and grooves that have typified his work since the beginning. With cleaner, clearer, more professional production, the guitarist, vocalist, songwriter and legendary drummer for Kyuss and Fu Manchu displayed a commercial and classic rock awareness the likes of which his fanbase hadn’t yet seen from him. His prior album, Somera Sól (released under the Brant Bjork and the Bros. moniker) approached some of that sound, but the production value made all the difference.

Perhaps most notably, Gods and Goddesses found Bjork bringing in longtime-friend/bassist Billy Cordell (formerly of Yawning Man), who was able to match exquisitely the grooves Bjork was putting down. At the end of the slow-rolling album closer “Somewhere Some Woman,” Cordell helped bring an entirely new and decidedly darker dynamic out of the typical Brant Bjork desert-sun-affected rock. Between that, the twists of “Blowin’ up Shop” and opener “Dirty Bird” — which might be the most Brant Bjork-sounding Brant Bjork song ever — Gods and Goddesses was an easy highlight of 2010.

He said in our interview that he hoped Gods and Goddesses would help him bring some attention to his solo career, and it’s apparently worked out, as he announced just last week that he’s signed with Napalm Records for future Brant Bjork releases. It’s a smart move, given the response he’s been able to get at European festivals like Roadburn and Hellfest and that he’ll be touring next year as part of the semi-reunion act, Kyuss Lives. One just hopes it’s not too long before he issues a follow-up.

Not that this is by any means the only measure of its worth, but UK noisemongers Dopefight‘s debut long-player Buds was easily the stoned-est record I heard all year. Everything about it just screamed, “We’re high,” from the abrasive Bongzilla-on-speed riffs to the album art above and the takeout Chinese food that appears on the back cover. Even once the “riff first, vocals later” formula became apparent and I started to get a sense of how the trio was constructing their songs, the tracks were no less enjoyable. And by “enjoyable,” I mean face-peeling.

Because that’s really the thing about Buds. Where usually “stoner” is a tag hoist upon the mellower side of rock and/or metal — no one would walk around calling Cannibal Corpse or Hate Eternal “stoner” bands, however much they may or may not get high — Dopefight foster an oldschool aggression that’s not at all offset by their weedian proclivities. The tracks on Buds were sludgy and loud, but the band was tight and the songs were well-composed. Their anger didn’t overwhelm or take precedence over the music, and Buds knew precisely what it was doing while it was kicking your ass.

It’s going to be a tough one to top, but here’s hoping Dopefight can pull it out for next time. On the strength of Buds alone, I’d still say they’re probably the best British sludge outfit I’ve heard since Iron Monkey. They prove there’s still new avenues to explore within the stoner realm, and that even if you’re walking previously-tread ground, if you step hard enough, the footprint is going to be your own.

Rife with gorgeous melodic complexity and a depth of arrangement I’ve not heard matched this year, The Threshingfloor by Colorado doom folk troupe Wovenhand is probably my favorite work by the David Eugene Edwards-fronted outfit since their 2002 self-titled debut. Edwards, who started Wovenhand in the wake of his prior traditionalist ensemble, 16 Horsepower, is among his generation’s most underrated songwriters, and the richness of The Threshingfloor only bears that further out.

This was to be Wovenhand‘s worldliest offering yet, with Turkish instrumentation and the kind of minor key vibes we in the West call “Eastern,” but The Threshingfloor is every bit the piece of Americana anything helmed by Edwards has ever been. Cuts like the depressive “Singing Grass” or the more joyful coming-home ode “Denver City” don’t try to hide their American folk roots, but like the best of modernity, they refine these traditions and expand on them. Edwards‘ arrangements are unmistakable, and on the jamming and heavy “Orchard Gate,” it’s plain to hear he’s at the height of his prowess.

The Threshingfloor has been my go-to nighttime driving album since I bought it back in July, and I think it’s going to be some time yet before I let it leave my trusty CD wallet. Like until the next one comes out. Definitely one of my personal favorites of 2010 and a record that loses none of its potency for repeated exposure. Also, for newcomers to the band, it’s a good place to start.