FEW PEOPLE IN NORTH AMERICA HAVE HEARD THE ALBUM OF THE YEAR
Don't blame Idlewild. The Remote Part burns with a feverish intensity.

Complaining about the dearth of quality popular music on store shelves is something that music critics tend to do whenever they are suffering from writer's block (or when they are bombarded by a slew of releases from boy bands and no-talent tramps who are under the misguided belief that anyone will remember them in five years as anything more than a vicious joke or answer to a trivia question.)

At this time, when many writers begin compiling their lists of the best albums of the year, the complaints fly like newly-fallen snow. And when the lists begin appearing, they can be placed in one of two piles: Those who compile a list containing ten mainstream albums and those who wear their ability to name ten obscure albums as a badge of honor. Those who compile a list of popular discs end up with a list that is remarkably vanilla and incomplete. Those who pick the obscure discs often come off as effete music snobs. However, upon close inspection, the snobs often encounter undeserved ridicule, when, in fact, they should be earning the praise of the music-loving public; a group often taken for granted.

The subject hits close to home because I too have been preparing my year-end list and I find my choices are heavily laden with U.K. acts (whose sales in the U.S. are non-existent at best) and North American acts (most of whose sales are no better than those of their British counterparts). While I have yet to hear a few contenders in their entirety (specifically The Roots's Phrenology), it is not too early to name the best album of the year.

Idlewild's The Remote Part, which is due to be released Stateside on December 3, is the best disc released this year. Some might remember the Scottish group's last disc, 100 Broken Windows, a terrific disc that garnered excellent reviews when it was released several years ago. Unfortunately, the commercial attention the disc received was miniscule when compared to the critical praise that it received. Accordingly, there was little (if any) buzz in North America when The Remote Part was released in the U.K. in July.

For me, that all changed the minute that Rod Jones' guitar explodes on the opening track, "You Held The World In Your Arms,"-hands down the best song of the year. Singer Roddy Woomble, who is often compared to REM's Michael Stipe, owns the material; material that is as powerful, important, and explosive as it is catchy. By the time that the band builds to the chorus, anyone who has not given themselves to the album is being obstinate out of spite. The song demands to be played as loud as possible in the biggest possible venue. This is stadium rock at its absolute finest.

"A Modern Way of Letting Go," the second track on the disc is a blistering punk attack that tears through its 2 minute, 22 second running time. An U.K. reviewer described perfectly the sound of this song as "bang bang bang like a ferret in a chutney blender." The guitars and drums come fast and furious and do not let up for a moment, leaving the listener breathless.

Echoes of U2's The Joshua Tree resonate in the smoldering third track, American English, in which Woomble sings pointed about uninspired songwriters. " So you let me hear songs that were written all about you/The good songs weren't written for you/They'll never be about you. Then you contract the American dream/You'll never look up once." Woomble's ability to build the track builds to a bitter crescendo proves that he understands his craft like few others performing today.

The band downshifts on the fourth track, "I Never Wanted," a track that borders on self-pity, yet manages not to drag the entire album down. The simple reason for this is that Idlewild knows how to write and perform a song, how to steer a song away from the border of cliché that it toed so gently.

"(I Am) What I Am Not" evokes memories of 100 Broken Windows. The driving track with its vicious chorus ("If all this wisdom is true/Then I doubt it could really have come from you"), snarls and spits to the end, and somehow manages to segue perfectly into "Live In A Hiding Place," a clever track on which Woomble's wordplay ("think about meaning more as an after word/as in afterward") will wow even the most cynical non-believer.

"Out of Routine" is driven by Colin Newton's sparkling drum work. He beats the skins and leads Woomble through this amazing track, which has as catchy and subtly angry a chorus- "But I can only try to know what I wanted/ I will only try to know what I want/ If I can only try to know what I wanted/ How can it be gone ?"-as one will find anywhere in popular music today.

The R.E.M. comparisons are most apt on "Century After Century," a track on which Woomble out-R.E.M.s R.E.M. The slight Scottish lilt is the only thing that distinguishes this track from the best songs in R.E.M.'s catalog. Again, Woomble's songwriting expertise shines through. "Isn't it romantic, to be romantic/ When you don't understand what you love," he sings without a trace of irony.

The group loses no steam on the end of the disc. "Tell Me Ten Words" is a great rock-and-roll song; melodic, subtle, and driven by Woomble's powerful voice. "Stay the Same" crackles at the open with its driving guitar line. "In Remote Part" downshifts again, seemingly signaling the opening of the parachute that will bring the listener back to earth safely after a harrowing, thrilling ride. Yet, the disc has one more surprise up its sleeve. Scottish poet Edwin Morgan recites "Scottish Fiction," a piece that was composed for the disc and which is backed by some fine guitar work. The building guitars that close the song leave the listener longing, nay, begging for more.

In the third line of "You Held the World In Your Arms Tonight," Woomble sings "everything's changed since yesterday, in every possible way." Anyone who listens to this disc and fails to realize that they are holding the disc from rock's next great supergroup, needs their ears for music examined post haste. Few discs can hold a listener's attention for 5 days. This one has held mine for five months. It is rich and nuanced, complex and accessible at the same time. Those who lament about the dearth of quality music will cease their bitching when they pop this disc into their players. The Remote Part deserves to be played loud and often. It is a masterpiece in every sense of the word, and deserving of the appellation Album of the Year.