Albums of 2013

Here’s our list for favorite/recommended albums of the year! We for sure haven’t listened to everything, so if we missed some good ones, you should let us know.

1. Volcano Choir, Repave – This album had me at the first song. Jon played it for the first time when we were cleaning our tiny apartment. It was the most fun cleaning I’ve ever had. It’s calm and relaxing but definitely has a nice kick (meaning fun melodies and beats) to it. Listen to this on a rainy day with a cup of tea and a good book. -  Annie
2. Vampire Weekend, Modern Vampires of the City – One of the reasons I love this album is because it’s tasteful and accessible. This is a perfect album for long car rides, grading papers, running, (I like listening to Worship You for running), drinking whiskey, and solo-dance parties. - Annie
3. Kacey Musgraves, Same Trailer Different Park – country, poignant, specific. Musgraves is one of those song writers who can speak to wider human experience without being generic. She’s in turn funny, cynical, and generous. Even if country music isn’t your thing, I recommend giving this album a shot. - Amy
4. Neko Case, The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You – soulful and dark. One of the most memorable songs on this album, for me, is “Nearly Midnight, Honolulu”. It’s about a kid she saw at the airport who was getting savagely yelled at by his mother. She says, “They won’t believe you/ When you say, “My mother, she did not love me.” She talks about how it happens everyday. You’re not often going to get that kind of candor in music. - Amy
5. Atoms For Peace, AMOK – I was always going to love this album. A Thom Yorke side project, it’s fragmented and dance-y in a way that’s good for people who want to keep to themselves. Interesting and engaging, if a little bit cold. It’s good for Saturday mornings on the “L”. - Amy
6. Inside Llewyn Davis, Soundtrack – The album has a great mix of 1970s pop songs (Please Mr. Kennedy) and tragic folk songs (Fare Thee Well). Favorite song from this album is Oscar Isaac singing Hang Me, Oh Hang Me... but that might be because of the movie. -Rachel
7. James Blake, Overgrown – R&B, singer/songwriter, shoe-gazey, electronica – so many types of music seem to be incorporated into this album. It’s been two years since his first album, when people were saying he was changing music, and he’s just getting better. - Amy
8. Great Gatsby, Soundtrack - I get most of my music for movies and I have to say this is my favorite album of the year. The movie was a letdown for me, but I love EVERY single song on this album. No Church in the Wild by Jay-Z is my personal favorite. -Rachel
9. Beyoncé, Beyoncé – You can always count on this diva to deliver. The self-titled album is a visual one, every song with a music video. As you could probably imagine, each track is different from the next. I know that bugs some people; there isn’t a cohesive feel to the album. Every track is its own entity. (Or as Miley puts it, each song is a banger.)  She’s got her usual crazy high-low range songs (Pretty Hurts), her kick ass/don’t mess-attitude (Yoncé, Flawless), and some retro, sexy tunes (Blow and Rocket).  Be prepared to hear some Frank Ocean, Drake, Jay-Z (duh), and her very own kin- Blue Ivy! -  Annie
10. Miley Cyrus, Bangerz – For how painful her music video is, Wrecking Ball is a great pop tune. Unlike a lot of music made for her demographic, Bangerz is about doing things your own way, about not caring about what other people say. (“It’s our party. We can do what we want.”) There’s also some good jamming out in your apartment to be had. - Amy

The following albums are one that I particularly liked but got less love from Annie and Rachel. (The fools! JK)

• Arcade Fire, Reflektor – There aren’t as many stand-out songs, on this album, as on The Suburbs, but it’s still a really solid record. I like cruising to the first song on the tread mill, and I’m looking forward to getting better acquainted with the rest. - Amy
• Typhoon, White Lighter – There are, like, twenty Portlandesque members to this band. They have the right amount of sincerity for me. The right amount of swelling and Indie-band singing. Stomp your feet to this one, feel something. - Amy
• Laura Marling, Once I was an Eagle - The songs in this album weave together in interesting ways. Her voice captured me immediately. If you listen to the first three songs and aren’t hooked, I don’t know who you are. - Amy
• Dessa, Parts of Speech – This is a hip hop album that’s alternatingly catchy and edgy. Plus it has a Bruce Springsteen cover that I listened to one million times. - Amy
• Moonface, Julia with Blue Jeans On – Spencer Krug’s crooning voice over mostly melancholy piano-driven melodies is a hard thing to resist.  This Jagjaguwar release can stand in the same room as For Emma, Forever Ago, and even holds together more lyrically than Justin Vernon’s masterpiece. - Mitch

Albums of 2012

Alright, so I apologize for something -- I woke up at 2:30 this morning to catch a plane after I had stayed out past midnight with friends. But this post needs to be written. We have no time.

I liked music this year, better than last year, I think. It had to compete with BBC radio dramas and the Planet Money podcast, but a few (10) albums definitely prevailed. I'm hoping you can find something on here that you like:

10. Best Coast, The Only Place

I have a thing for Bethany Cosentino. She says the things that you're supposed to be too embarrassed to say. She owns it, does it with humor, makes me feel better about myself. This new album is a great summer, walk three blocks to Lake Michigan, audio fill. And just like you might guess from the name of the band, she likes the state of California, and being one with strong home-state allegiance, I can support this kind of thinking.

9. Passion Pit, Gossamer

This album didn't wear as well as I had hoped, but for about the first month after I got it, I listened to it constantly. It's got some of the buzz and energy that made Manners such a break out, but it underscores that with some melancholy. I love melancholy.

8. Taylor Swift, Red

There's been a lot of talk about Taylor Swift it seems like. I think people lose sight of the fact that you can be a very successful artist and make some good music without largely appealing to white men with Mac Books. I heard "We are Never Getting Back Together" on the radio, and I was so pleased with the direction she's taking in her music. It's nice to see her grow up a bit from "You Belong With Me". She's at that crushing, angry, joyful stage where you can actually get over someone, and her music has a little bit more of a punk feel to it. I even like her music video -- she's push-pulling with Indie culture in kind of a strange way. The only thing I don't like is in the very end, where she looks at the camera and kind of shrugs. Come on, Swift, your album sold 1.2 million copies in its first week, you should have the confidence to play that thing straight. 

7. Slow Club, Paradise

This album is some great Indie pop. (It's Mitch's favorite of 2012, if you're interested.) The guitar lines are gritty, the singing's pretty, and the drums... I don't know, they sound good, pounding like a heart. My favorite lyrics: "I think that next summer, if we're still all alive we should try (we should try) to jump into some water and focus on getting high."

6. Alt-J, An Awesome Wave

Gosh, is this catching, and about every minute the songs take some dynamic turn. I'd call it art rock, but unlike most art rock, it makes a great running mix. The only weird part about it is that  Joe Newman sings weird, a bit like Kermit in his rebellious youth. It adds a feeling of insincerity to the music.

5. Nils Frahm, Felt

This album is mainly classical piano, but it's layered with small static, breathing, wood hitting together. The story behind it is that Frahm likes to play his music at night, and in order to not annoy his neighbors, he's covered the hammers in his piano with felt, muting it almost completely. He then puts the microphone really really close. Because of this it picks up all kinds of soft side sounds that otherwise would be completely drowned out. It creates a feeling of intimacy, of which I'm a total sucker. 

4. Now, Now, Threads

This is a kind of somber rock. (Mitch is sitting next to me comparing it to early Death Cab.) It's a bit like a car trip over Snoqualmie Pass -- murky and brooding. I guess I don't have too much to say; they have a great sound. Check it out.

3. The Very Best, MTMTMK

This is a collaboration between a Swedish producer and a singer from Malawi. We went to their show this year with Mikey and Julie, and I've never had more fun at a concert. We stood up front and danced so hard -- and it was easy to dance; it wasn't self-conscious; it was easy, necessary. (Granted, we did sneak in a couple flasks of whiskey.) The words are a mixture of English and Chichewa, and it's been nice this year -- with all this apocalypse talk -- to listen to "sky could fall down any day; nothing lasts forever anyway; as long as I got you here with me, we okay. We okay." Mikey's take on it was that if The Very Best came to Chicago every single week for a concert, he would go and love it. I agree.

2. Macklemore, Heist

I wasn’t sure about this guy at first. Mikey and Julie showed me the music video for “Thrift Shop.” The video is so cool… impenetrably cool. Like these-people-would-never-be-friends-with-me cool, and you never want an unbalanced power relationship between you and your music. But when the album “Heist” came out, I decided to give it a chance. I was surprised to find that it was exactly the opposite. It’s infectious, and it’s not trying to be your friend, exactly. Instead, it makes me feel like I already belong. (Wow, that sounds cheesy. And since listening to tunes for me is a largely individual, headphones in, leaving me to my thoughts experience, that level of drippiness might persist throughout. Nobody’s making you read this.) But, really – I hid in this record this year. While sincerity is generally treated as a kind of disease, Macklemore makes advocating attractive. He makes being genuine look possible again. (And he’s from Seattle, which is just bonus.)

1. Fiona Apple, The Idler Wheel [...]

When I heard this album, I was entranced. It was the summer and over ninety degrees in our apartment with the AC running; I was having a long-distance argument with a close friend of mine; and I put on NPR’s early streaming of this album to pass the time. And remarkably, for me, I could put up with the waiting, with the sitting on the hot patio waiting for my friend to call. Apple sings like the crazy person we’d all be if we were a bit more honest and, you know, brilliant. I like it because the album sounds afflicted – afflicted by the burden of being conscious: of mortification, of mental loops and ruts, of desire, of unsentimental isolation. (“Oh, the periphery. They throw good parties, there.”) Musically, it’s spare and percussive, something to get caught up in rather than hum along to. Listening to it gave context to my problems and agitations – that being human is a dense experience. “Being human is a dense experience” as I write that I see how opaque that statement is, clunky, ambiguous. Listen to Fiona Apple’s new album, she expresses it much better. 

Call Me Maybe

I've been thinking ahead about which albums I want to put on my list of "The Top Ten Best Albums of 2012." Of course, I am not an expert on music, I aggressively listen to new albums only some of the time, and I really just pick what I like. But in thinking about this, I got so excited to defend and elaborate on one of my choices, I decided to do it early.

Introducing a sneak preview to the Westovar(ian)'s top ten! Drum roll...

I'm not even sure if Carly Rae actually made a whole album to go with this song. It doesn't matter, it doesn't need one.

I find myself listening to it over and over. It's the one song at the gym that I actually like.

For a while part of its charm for me was associating it with Arrested Development - as in, call me Maeby:

But while Arrested Development tends to be considered good television, I don't know... Call Me Maybe doesn't seem to have what it takes to be considered properly good music. It's not complex, it's not saying a lot, it's very accessible, and it's not sung by a thin man wearing black pants and some beard stubble. It just doesn't smack of great genius, great art. I almost feel ashamed to be listening to it so much. (Except I tell myself, "Amy, you can like whatever you want. You stick by your preferences!" until I don't feel bad any more, mostly... maybe.)

Distinctions about what makes something good and what makes art ART are tricky. People have a general sense about it, for the most part, but when it comes down to specific standards, to laying down rules, it gets murky and stressful, especially since I put stake in my ability to recognize beauty and to be able to dismiss some or most of what's out there. The prospect of having to take every piece of music, visual art, or literature seriously makes my brain feel like it might explode.

From my painful forays into this territory, I've only come up with one distinction I'm fairly comfortable with. I think art begets more art. Really quality stuff is that which inspires other people to also create. And this song has clearly done that.

Seeds of the Pine

I've been wanting to write this post for awhile. Waiting until I had something profound to say, I guess. Maybe something to keep up with the beauty and profundity of this song:

It's "Seeds of the Pine" by Martha Scanlan, a bluegrass singer/songwriter, with the excellent banjo player, Roy Andrade. Kyle Ritter introduced me to it around a year and a half ago.

There's something... it's in the warble of Scanlan's voice, the sweet sadness of the lyrics, and the (as mentioned) awesome banjo playing. It's presumably about someone she can't have -- maybe there are distance or relationship obstructions that are keeping them apart; maybe she's being pragmatic and doesn't want the burden or risk of a relationship (romantic or otherwise). "I only want to dream about you/ the dollar I could spend when I should save." Maybe this person is just an acquaintance, a crush that she has from a distance. Point is: she doesn't have this person, and doesn't seem to know if she should have him. That's kind of sad, I'm sure, for her, and there are plenty of songs written in this sentiment (e.g. "You belong with me" or "Wish he was my boyfriend"). But while those other songs concentrate on the qualifications of the singer ("I'm the one who understands you[....]"), Scanlan's next verse is a collection of maybe the sweetest things you could say about someone:

You're a slow ride down a country mile.
You're the smell of apple pie to the blind.
You're the last light on a July western sky.
You're the center of the watermelon;
you're a sweet, sweet smile. *

The song is more about her longing than about how much she deserves this person. In fact, later on, she talks about denying her love for this person; "I could say I never wanted you for mine." It's painful to want something, embarrassing to admit desire. Instead of stating the case for how cool she is -- I like you a lot, and if you knew what was best for you, you'd like me too -- she says she could take it back. Unfulfilled desire is hard to live with; I think it impedes happiness to some extent. She could simply deny her desire, try to quell it.

Here's the thing, though: there's sweetness in that desire, indistinguishable from the pain or sadness that's also there. To me, the complete absence of desire is distasteful, almost terrifying. To have everything you'd ever want is to be without dreams or passion or tension. Without feeling. C.S. Lewis talks about joy in longing - joy being a longing. "All joy... emphasizes our pilgrim status; always reminds, beckons, awakens desire. Our best havings are wantings."

Maybe I wouldn't put so much stock in desire if I actually had all I wanted, if desire weren't already such a fixture in my life. Wanting to start on the varsity basketball team, wanting to travel and move to different places, wanting to live with friends, wanting to make enough money as a writer, wanting to skip work this morning and drink coffee all day. But for now I think that the sweetness and the pain in wanting is what opens up the seeds of the pine.

* Shortly after Kyle had shown me this song, I meant to text him the lyrics about the apple pie. Instead, I accidentally sent them to the person next to him in my contact list, a guy hadn't talked to since freshman year of college. Oops. It was fine, though. This guy thought he was pretty hot back in college; he probably wasn't even surprised.

Albums of 2011

First, I have some off-genre, for me, albums that I like and wanted to mention. Note: albums listed: band - album - good song to start with/my favorite song depending.

Alabama Shakes - Alabama Shakes - Hold On ... This band reminds me of one you might see, unexpectedly, in some out-of-the way small town bar and, to your shock, realize that you really like them. My favorite lyrics, Hold On, "Bless my heart, bless my soul. Didn't think I'd make it to 22 years old."

The Roots - undun - The OtherSide ... this is a hip hop group. Talented lyricists, great sound. I think I'll do a lot of listening to them on into 2012.

Trombone Shorty - For True - For True ... Jazz musician from New Orleans. His sound really pops and drives. It's very catchy for a jazz album.

And now for the count down. (Where I'm from no one has pinkies.)

8) Adele - 21 – Someone Like You … Diva. I hope everyone has heard this woman’s pipes by now. I think it’s important to mention that she doesn’t over sing her songs. She makes them big, she’s stunning, and she’s not ridiculous – no Super Bowl national anthem singer (but she’s a Brit, so I guess she wouldn’t be). One of my favorite things about her is how awful her speaking voice sounds. Terrible accent. A cackle for a laugh. And a singing voice to bring the house down.

7) Grouplove - Never Trust a Happy Song – Love Will Save Your Soul … This is a great pop record. Accessible, upbeat, youthful with a touch of rebellion. The Peter Pan of the music world.

6) Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues – Helplessness Blues … This band is part of the big switch that has happened for me since 2008. I wasn’t in love with their first album, couldn’t really get into it. On the other hand, Bon Iver’s For Emma Forever Ago is one of my all-time favorites. This year, I’m into this album. Bon Iver’s … meh. I think the difference is that Fleet Foxes has brought a little heat, a little speed, and more cohesion to this album. And they’ve really figured out their harmony and their sound. Mitch and I got to see them at the Chicago theater, which was a highlight.

5) Big Deal - Lights Out – With the World at My Feet … The more I listen to this album, the more I like it. Musically, it’s really growing on me. I wrote a whole big thing on it, see here. It’s a very sexy album. Actually, when I was reading a review on it, I learned a new word: prurience – inordinately interested in matters of sex; lascivious. David Foster Wallace would be so proud.

4) Bright Eyes - The People’s Key – Shell Games … Bright Eyes is back. This album is great, comprehensive. Optimistic. Here’s a guy going from “death obsessed like a teenager. Sold my tortured youth pissing vinegar. I’m still angry with no reason to be” in Shell Games to “One for the breadlines. One for the billionaires. […] One for me. One for you” in the last song. And the wonky guy, whose voice runs through the whole thing talking about aliens and lizard people, comes on at the end saying “love, compassion, art, mercy.”

3) tUnE-yArDs - w h o k i l l – Bizness … This is a very strong third place. If it weren’t for my felt loyalty to the first and second, this one would rise to the top. Singer Merrill Garbus is a force: in music, confidence, feeling. Her songs are rhythmic and powerful, wrought with tension. I’ve heard her songs described as political, but it’s more of a personal politics. A white girl from Oakland trying to deal with what’s going on in her head and her surroundings – insecurities, incongruities, and stuff most of us don’t like to think or talk about. My favorite lyrics are in the song Killa, “I’m new kind of woman. I’m a new kind of woman. I’m a don’t take shit from you kind of woman.”

2) The Joy Formidable - The Big Roar – Cradle … This band goes big like the album name suggests. The first time I heard them, I knew they were good in a way that doesn’t wear out with the number of listens I give them. I’m confident in their staying power. The album boasts a full complex wall of sound, the kind I can get lost in. I’ve noticed that when I put their songs on a mixed CD, people tend to shut down a little. They’re not, maybe, for the faint of heart.

1) King Creosote and Jon Hopkins - Diamond Mine – First Watch … This album is number one for me based on the strength of the first song. One of my favorite things is taking a nap or sitting in a room by myself and being able to hear the activity of people nearby – cooking, talking, washing dishes. That’s what this song sounds like, the voices of people you might love. The sounds of having them near you without actually having to interact with anyone. And then a slow and breathtaking piano melody plays on top of those sounds. The first couple of times I heard it, I felt like I could cry. It struck me as so beautiful. The rest of the brief album (only seven songs) is good too. Merry Christmas, everyone. I wish I could hear you close to me.

Lights Out

I was planning on doing a “Best Albums of 2011” list, and I still might, but there’s an album that I’ve been hung up on recently for reasons that have little to do with whether it’s “best” or not. So, hang with me, I’ll write through this one and then maybe I can get to the other incredible stuff that has come out in 2011.

It’s an indie guy/girl duo from the UK that, this year, came out with their first record; it's called “Lights Out.” The band’s name is Big Deal. They have a pretty and sleepy sound composed of their two voices, an electric, and an acoustic guitar. The first song of theirs I heard (“Chair”) was on NPR. Alice Costelloe sings, “You don’t trust me to sit on your bed, put me on a chair in the corner instead. You don’t trust me. […] Only want me for my lungs, only want me for the songs I write about you about how I like you.” The male half of the duo, Kacey Underwood, is Costelloe’s guitar teacher and a bit older than her. That fact and the implied possibility that she is singing about (while singing with) him colors my whole listening and interpretation of the album.

These aren’t really love songs, and they aren’t raunchy sex songs, but they are somewhere in between. And they seem to come from the perspective of a young woman on the verge of independence who has fallen for an older man. In the song “With the World at My Feet” she sings, “With the world at my feet, and the stars in my reach. But you won’t be with me. You won’t be with me.” And in “Talk,” “It’s okay, I’m just a kid. It’s okay. I’ll get over it.” It’s that voice and perspective that has hooked me on this thing. It has shocked me a little bit how well these songs have resonated with me, recalling emotions and frustrations from late high school/ early college. I feel like they capture part of my experience that I’ve never heard voiced before.

I talked to a friend, showed her the album, and she confirmed my feelings – And first, I should say, we’re talking about that chunk of years when hormones are going, bodies are pretty much grown, but we are still teens mid adolescence. She said that she remembers feeling an impossible barrier between her and being taken seriously as an adult and partner. I think part of this came from her social and relational inexperience compared to the people who were attractive, older men. (And I don’t mean senior gentleman or anything like that. I’m talking about guys two to six years older, which, at the time, was a big deal.) The guys our same age, with the same experience, often looked about like they did in middle school and just had no shot against the dreamy elusive relative juniors and seniors. Costelloe in “Cool Like Kurt” sings, “Take me to your bed. Don’t take me home. I want to be old. I want to be older.” Which impresses me in its honesty and really hits me because I recognize that lack of tact, and really, of intention. She wants this guy, but she may not even like him. Again in “Talk,” “All I want to do is talk, but seeing you fucks me up.” He doesn’t sound like great company, anyway.

But that’s why I like this album. They get the tension right: the conflict isn’t so much over unrequited love. There was never much love in the first place; it’s a collision of hormones, power, and the struggle to be taken seriously – which is more difficult for women and adolescents.

There’s a charming nostalgia to “Homework,” “Can’t do my homework. Can’t concentrate. It’s ruining my grades. I can’t think straight.” (My friend: Oh, it definitely affected my grades.) And creepy carnal undertones in “Swoon,” “Always hungry, I’ve waited so long to feel your touch. […] Do my bones show enough for your love?” This album bends around feelings of passion, inadequacy, helplessness, and newness so completely that I remembered emotions I hadn’t thought of in years. I felt rueful (again) for having them in the first place and also grateful that somebody had captured them in such a lovely gritty simple medium.

And while I’ve seen relationships work and flourish that have started from these beginnings, most end. “You don’t have to say it’s done. I know. I know.” And she gets over it.

River City Extension

I got turned onto the band River City Extension by NPR's podcast All Songs Considered. Bob talks to Jay Sweet, the guy who lines up the bands for the Newport Folk Festival. Jay was at SXSW and came upon a really crowded venue. The gathered, 300 or so, were belting the words to all the songs this band (River City Extension)was playing. Jay had never heard of them before.

When time was up for their set, the fans would not physically let River City leave the stage. The stage manager is pointing to his watch, mouthing some words, and shrugging -- you guys have to get off of there. Another band coming up. So the drummer rips -- does not unscrew, rips -- the snare off the set, and they play down the stairway and out into the street. Everybody leaves with them.

That's my kind of crew. I imagine their average fan to be a late-twenties ruddy guy with a reddish beard, holding a lager, and wearing a green t-shirt. They sing their tunes with the enthusiasm of Mumford and Sons and with the anthemic quality of Five Iron Frenzy.

I've listened to their newest album, "The Unmistakable Man," and I liked the song "South for the Winter" first. The beginning part of the song is so much softer than the rest that I couldn't hear it through my car's speakers as I was driving down to Denver. By myself, night time, windows open. Then it builds all of a sudden to a very loud exclamation, "Sometimes all I want is a job and a God and a wife!" Amen, brother.

The album has a lot of that, musing, melancholy lyrics to upbeat, sometimes thrashing, music. And I've been attracted to songs like South for the Winter for a little while: songs like Best Coasts's "Boyfriend" and Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me." Bethany Cosentino sings, "The other girl is not like me; she's prettier and skinnier. She has a college degree. I dropped out when I was 17." Or in the song "Goodbye", "I lost my job, I miss my mom, I wish my cat could talk."

Remarkably similar in content to "Boyfriend" is Swift's song, but where we can enjoy Cosentino's ironic jabs (she knows she's making a poor case for being this guy's girlfriend), I'm like, "Taylor, honey" (and put my arm around her and pull her to the side) when Swift sings, "She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts [...] She wears high-heels, I wear sneakers" in this pristine voice of sincerity. Sweety, you are wasting your ardor. He won't even notice you unless you change everything about yourself and become a sex kitten. Better to throw on some sweats and become an angry blogger.

But I like the song anyway because (here comes my point (which is an aside to my greater point, which is that I like River City Extension)) in our culture of flipp'n Facebook everybody takes great care to manage their image, they smile in all their pictures with all their friends in all their travels (if they're going one route) or they're all made up and their breasts have their own profiles and they soften their photos's edges (if they're going another), but they are all screaming I am so happy! And desirable! And my life is so fun! Successful! The PICTURE of SUCCESS!

And here are some artists who have the guts to sing about wanting what we all want and feeling what I'm guessing we all feel sometimes, but we aren't suppose to show it because that would be poor image management.

Unmistakable Man is beer-fused and ranting. Some songs about God: "Another death upon a mountain top / Our lives are nothing but some real shit luck / Remember when we used to give a fuck? / Well I don’t think the Lord understands." and "I wonder if I still own a Bible / If my fingerprints still sit on that page / The one about love, and why it’s so patient / And why I have lost it with age."

And lovers: "I am naked in the dark / with my eyelids shining like flashlights / in the midst of / our dirty playtime / and for the meantime / we are echos of spring time." I play that over and over. Listen to it, it makes you want to cheer.

A review I read puts the album's major themes as, "a lamentation for deceased friends, a realization of the need to treasure loved ones, and a recognition of the futility of a life lived without faith." This one is up my alley -- rip me off that snare drum!

NPR: All Songs Considered... Considered

When I found out that I could download podcasts to my Zune for free it felt like my world was exploding. It was like I had just discovered the internet only the internet was people telling me interesting things on almost every subject imaginable. And true to my browsing habits I ended up only really listening to one thing: NPR’s All Songs Considered.

It’s a podcast featuring four music lovers, three fellows and a lady, who listen to tons of music and then talk about and play some of their findings. Last month they took the show to South by Southwest (SXSW), Austin’s giant music festival.

They did a series of podcasts on the whole experience, starting with listening to over a thousand songs by bands they could see at the festival – debuting their findings in a SXSW preview show – then doing late-night updates each night, and ending with a 45-minute SXSW show in review.

The veteran listening foursome guided the show much more like fans than like critics. It was a lot of “I loved this” and “I loved this” and “this was incredible.” And the tunes I’ve listened to because of their enthusiasm have had a lot to love about them. I’ve never before had such an onslaught of music that I have liked in my life.

They ended SXSW saying that above all the festival was a celebration. One talked about how teens and twenty somethings these days have a lot to be angry and unhappy about, and yet the musicians and the fans alike were overwhelmingly joyful.

A couple of days after their broadcast that earthquake hit Japan.

I wondered if they were ashamed at all. Is it appropriate for a bunch of Americans to migrate to Texas to have a festival of entertainment and beer drinking and staying up all night and frequenting the taco truck and the porta potties when there is utter destruction so many places in the world?

I listen to NPR: All Songs Considered on my 40-minute commute to and from work each day. A lot about my post-college experience has been pretty disappointing. I expected to explode out of Whitworth like manure out of a sick person, and instead it’s been more of a dribble. I’m not working a job that uses my degree – or my brain. I make minimum wage and struggle to scrape meaning and prospects out of the career bucket that I happen to be looking in.

Listening to music has helped infuse the monotony with some beauty, adventure, and discovery.

But on my gloomier days I reduce music – and most art – to mere entertainment. Something to distract the masses from the reality of a life that is dull and monotonous. Music as fluff. Not what it was hoped to be and not something one can do anything about. Music as an opiate.

But you should hear this stuff.

The band, Fang Island, is aptly described as “like everyone high fiving everyone.” A wall of male vocals and hand clapping and all the rest.

And Typhoon gave me waves upon waves of goose bumps when I first watched their Tiny SXSW Concert online.

Typhoon is made up of fifteen-ish members, they are all about our age, and it should sound like chaos. They have a guitarist/singer, two trumpet players, a bassist (who stands like Spencer Boyles), a cellist, two drummers, a violinist, a girl who plays on a dinky piano, and probably some other people. When Kyle saw the video of them he said he would give each member of the band a bottle of shampoo for Christmas. They sound incredible; they are balanced and passionate and sometimes whimpering and otherwise jubilant.

Their song, The Honest Truth, on their new album says, “Be kind to all your neighbors/ cause they’re just like you./ And you’re nothing special / unless they are too.” Which is a pretty bold statement because often times your neighbors (especially at this festival) are drunk crazies. It reminds me of Mumford and Sons’ line, “Love, it will not betray you, dismay, or enslave you./ It will set you free./ Be more like the man you were made to be.” Both are gutsy things to say in a world that seems insistent on one doing the opposite.

The celebration went to the extent that Bright Eyes closed out the festival with literal fireworks. He ended with the song, One for You, One for Me. “One for the breadlines. / One for the billionaires./ One for the missing./ One for the barely there./ One for the certain./ One for the real confused./ One for me. One for you.”

These bands played their hearts out for people. Colin Stetson on bass saxophone nearly blacked out. The lead singer from The Joy Formidable was puking back stage in between sets.

And on brighter days I think that musicians, through entertainment, connect with people, make their lives better. They create something new and beautiful even if it’s only an arrangement of overlapping sound waves. And many, lately, send a message reminiscent to “love your neighbor as yourself” and “whatever you do for the least of these”, which has always been sort of crazy to commit to.

Let’s help each other through this life… thing, whatever it is.