Okay, so obviously I’m back to listening to music more earnestly. [I would argue that this is a beneficial result of not being so damn depressed.] Would you like me to review the stuff I’m listening to? I used to do that back in the week-by-week format, but I found that format rather unwieldy and also quite demanding.

If I review stuff, it’ll be in the form of a weekly or monthly post that reviews whatever I’ve listened to in the last time period. It also won’t be long: I’m thinking 140-character reviews, a la Twitter. [In fact, I might just use Twitter to do it, and use Alex's Twitter Tools to power doing it. Hmmm.]

This is only relevant for the subset of my audience that gives a rip about what I’m listening to, of course …

Update, 2124: Oh, hell … the longer I thought about it, the more it made sense to just do it. Welcome, @geofsnewmusic.

The great things about lists: we all have them, and we love to argue about them.

• Andrew Bird’s Armchair Apocrypha
• Andrew Bird’s Noble Beast
• Jeremy Casella’s Recovery
• Death Cab for Cutie’s Narrow Stairs
• The Decemberists’ The Hazards of Love
• Gnarls Barkley’s The Odd Couple
• Matthew Perryman Jones’s Throwing Punches in the Dark
• Andrew Osenga’s The Morning
• Over the Rhine’s Drunkard’s Prayer
• Over the Rhine’s Good Dog, Bad Dog [yes, I know that's the 1990s version album cover; Amazon doesn't have the 2000s re-release]
• Eric Peters’s Scarce
• Radiohead’s In Rainbows
• Sufjan Stevens’s Illinois
• M. Ward’s Post-War
• M. Ward’s Transfiguration of Vincent
• M. Ward’s Transistor Radio
• Derek Webb’s I See Things Upside Down
• Derek Webb’s Stockholm Syndrome
• The Weepies’ Say I Am You
• Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot

I think I’d have to list my top five artists of the decade as:

1. Wilco, for the sheer amount of great records, touring, and taper-friendliness.
2. Over the Rhine, for going strong through their second decade and keeping it together through a bunch of opportunities to completely derail.
3. Derek Webb, for the controversy, for the songs, and for the friendship.
4. M. Ward, for this ridiculous arc of great records.
5. Sufjan Stevens, for making songs about faith accessible to hipsters.

My musical leanings skew strongly to the latter part of the decade, when I had the disposible income to devour music. I’ve always loved it, and now I can afford to buy it in spades—at the same time that producing music gets cheaper and easier.

Happy New Year to you and yours. As I post, my East Coast friends have slid into 2010. We’re still living in the past in Alabama [insert joke here].

This wouldn’t be a proper “here’s what I’ve been listening to” without a GeofCast episode, right? Listen while you read.

 

 Standard Podcast [20:27m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Let’s follow last year’s mojo:

• Date is in the range: 01 Jan 2009 – 25 Dec 2009. Any cutoff point is arbitrary, but this makes sense to me. I’ve been willfully listening to Christmas music lately, so this helps hold the list growth down.
• Kind does not contain AIFF [to filter out unprocessed bootlegs and demos].
• Album Rating is greater than three stars.
• Genre does not contain Concert Bootleg.

This list is unoptimized; it’s actually done in alphabetical order by artist. At the end, I’ll give a best-of list, countdown style. Because I like embracing constraints, I’ll give a one-sentence statement about each album as to why it’s just so darn good. If you’ve ever talked to me for longer than 90 seconds, you know that one sentence is an unreal constraint.

• The Silent Stars, Alli Rogers. A worthy follow-up to her 2008 Christmas EP, but with new tracks and more Alli goodness. The Silent Stars, Nov. 29.
• I and Love and You, The Avett Brothers. Glorious harmonies, well-crafted lyrics, and fine instrumentation: worth your purchase. I and Love and You, Sep 29.
• Noble Beast, Andrew Bird. Lush, dense, expertly-crafted pop/folk, with whistling. Noble Beast, Jan 20.
• Blood Bank, Bon Iver. A fun follow-up EP to his groundbreaking solo debut. Blood Bank Jan 20.
• Posthumous Success, Tom Brosseau. Less reedy pop/folk than he’s crafted in the past, but this modernization of his sound is still quite good. Posthumous Success, Jun 23.
• Oh, My Darling, Basia Bulat. Lovely pop songstress; bought this when I was after a girl who liked her music, too. Oh, My Darling, Feb 16.
• E.C. Was Here, Eric Clapton. Classic blues/rock from the master. E.C. Was Here, 15 Apr.
• Eric Clapton, Eric Clapton. More classic rock from a guitar god. Eric Clapton, Jun 4.
• Across a Wire: Live in New York, Counting Crows. Across a Wire: Live in New York City (disc 1: VH1 Storytellers) and Across a Wire: Live in New York City (disc 2: MTV Live From the 10 Spot), 31 Mar.
• The Hazards of Love, The Decemberists. Surprising for a major-label release, THoL returns our musical heroes to their literary roots to craft what lesser reviewers would call a concept album. The Hazards of Love, Mar 24.
• Hotel California, Eagles. Unlike The Dude, I do not hate the fuckin’ Eagles.Hotel California, Sep 6.
• Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes. Ridiculous harmonies, lush instrumentation.Fleet Foxes, Feb 7.
• Dirty Birds, Kat Flint. Red-haired songstresses always get me.Dirty Birds, Jan 30.
• Great Escape, Nick Flora and Film at Eleven. Nick isn’t just a friend—he’s a very good songwriter. Great Escape, Apr 2.
• A Kiss in Time, Patty Griffin. I love live music, and while Patty is anti-bootleg [booooo], this is good [yaaaaay]. A Kiss in Time, Mar 19.
• The Law of Gravity, Andy Gullahorn. I’m pre-disposed to love AG’s records, but this one really is good. The Law of Gravity, Dec 5.
• Around the Well, Iron & Wine. So, you’re looking at me, saying, “Really? A B-sides and rarities compilation?”, but it’s the second disc that just kills it—and Paul is right when he says Sam Beam compares to Elliott Smith and Nick Drake. Around the Well (disc 1) and Around the Well (disc 2), May 19.
• The Black Album, Jay-Z. I’m not hugely into hip-hop, but I like Jay. The Black Album, May 5.
• The Ultimate Blue Train, John Coltrane. Just a classic jazz album. The Ultimate Blue Train, Apr 18.
• Lie to Me, Jonny Lang. Bought this because I saw him live; feel like he’s better live, but good in the studio. Lie to Me, Apr 21.
• Three Flights from Alto Nido, Greg Laswell. Just plain good song-writing. Three Flights From Alto Nido, Jul 18.
• Blue Lines, Massive Attack. Portishead begat a love of trip-hop that I expect will extend into 2010 as I enforce my completionist ways. Blue Lines, Sep 22.
• The Luxury of Time, David Mead. Just plain solid songwriting, with a great pop voice to boot. The Luxury of Time, Nov 16.
• Jaydiohead, Minty Fresh Beats. Jay-Z and Radiohead, mixed together: yes, please! Jaydiohead, Apr 21.
• Monsters of Folk, Monsters of Folk. I think I have to make an obligatory Traveling Wilburys reference here; anyway, it’s got M. Ward, which means I was gonna buy it—and the album isn’t ill-titled. Monsters of Folk, Sep 30.
• The Sunset Tree, The Mountain Goats. Honest, heartfelt songwriting, honestly sung. The Sunset Tree, Feb 22.
• Z, My Morning Jacket. I love putting this record on when I need to rock out to something smooth. Z, Jan 4.
• Bleach, Nirvana. Yeah, I’m behind the times on this one. Bleach, Apr 19.
• Choosing Sides, Andrew Osenga. Get your copy fast!—Andy only printed 500 of them. Choosing Sides, Dec 14.
• Letters to the Editor, Vol. I and II, Andrew Osenga. Who cares that he put these songs out for free—they’re worth buying. Letters to the Editor, Vols. I & II, didn’t get blogged about this year.
• Live from Nowhere, Volume Four, Over the Rhine. It’s a great live record, and keeps you going between increasingly-distant OtR albums. Live From Nowhere, Volume Four (disc 1) and Live From Nowhere, Volume Four (disc 2), Aug 17.
• Chrome, Eric Peters. Eric Peters’s music rips right through my guts and makes me think. Chrome, .
• Behold the Lamb of God (10th Anniversary Edition), Andrew Peterson. A new turn on a classic record. Behold the Lamb of God (10th Anniversary Edition) (disc 1) and Behold the Lamb of God (10th Anniversary Edition) (disc 2), Dec 15.
• That Kind of Love, Pierce Pettis. Northeast Alabama’s best musical act [move over, Alabama] does it again. That Kind of Love, Apr 2.
• The Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd. Yeah, I’m as surprised as you are that I didn’t own this before 2009. The Dark Side of the Moon, Jan 1.
• Dummy, Portishead. My addiction to trip hop would be annoying if I didn’t live alone; instead, it’s kinda awesome. Dummy, Jan 10.
• Kid A, Radiohead. I’m a completionist, but it’s a great record. Kid A, Jan 16.
• Rook, Shearwater. Makes me think of a warm blanket on a cold evening. Rook, Feb 21.
• Dial M, Starflyer 59. Buying J.R.’s top ten CDs turned out to be a great endeavor. Dial M, Mar 29.
• April, Sun Kil Moon. Wonderful late-night music. April, Feb 23.
• Strict Joy, The Swell Season. It’s as good as people have told you. Strict Joy, Nov 2.
• Illinoize, Tor. Sufjan Stevens’s music, mixed with rap—kinda awesome. Illinoize, not blogged.
• Dear Science, TV on the Radio. I don’t know how to begin to describe them, but I like them. Dear Science, Mar 27.
• Hold Time, M. Ward. Not as good as his earlier stuff, but still a great record. Hold Time, Feb 17.
• Stockholm Syndrome, Derek Webb. Worthy of the controversy. Stockholm Syndrome, which I had before it ever came out, natch.
• Wilco (The Album), Wilco. I’d buy a record of Jeff Tweedy reading the Chicago phone book. Wilco (The Album), Jun 28.

5. Wilco (The Album), Wilco. There are so many good songs on this album, but I thought I’d start with the opening track—it’s a treatise for the record and, frankly, for Wilco as a band at this point.
   

   Are you under the impression
   This isn’t your life?
   Do you dabble in depression?
   Is someone twisting a knife in your back?
   Are you being attacked?
   Oh, this is a fact that you need to know

   Oh

   Wilco
   Wilco
   Wilco will love you baby

   As someone who “dabbles in depression”, yeah, I love this track … and this album … and this band.
   

4. Letters to the Editor, Vol. I and II, Andrew Osenga. Yes, this is a compilation of tracks that he gave away for free; if you’re cheap, you can get Volume I and Volume II online still. But if you like it, buy the disc and support independent music. I chose “Staring Out a Window (My Confession)” because it just hits home for me.
   
3. Stockholm Syndrome, Derek Webb. Okay, you can argue that, as a friend of Derek’s and one of the three guys behind derekwebb.net, I’m predisposed to loving his music. You’re right. But this is a worthy buy for the following reasons: a) it tackles prickly issues of sexuality that most Christians are uncomfortable dealing with b) Fred Phelps gets made fun of c) it’s Derek and Josh Moore doing their best Gnarls Barkley impersonation, without sounding like a cheap knockoff and d) he says “shit” on the record and gets away with it. Sorta. I picked “The Spirit Vs. The Kick Drum” because it’s just a kickin’ little track.
   
2. The Hazards of Love, The Decemberists. Many long-time Decemberists fans [of which I cannot claim to be; I'm late to the game] would argue that they feared what being on a major record label would do to their music. But give Capitol all the credit in the world for letting Portland’s finest put out what lesser reviewers would call a concept album, and what I think of as “literature set to music”. The arc of this album is one unbroken story, and it’s just so well-done, with themes repeated and twisted as the album builds on itself. That makes it difficult to pick out one song, but I chose “The Rake’s Song” because that will tell you whether or not you’ll want to listen to the whole thing.
   
1. Noble Beast, Andrew Bird. I really thought that Armchair Apocrypha was going to be the apex of AB’s music for me. I didn’t think that he’d make a better record, but to my ears, he did with Noble Beast. Musically, it’s just so strong: songs with movement are just such a rarity in popular music these days that hearing tracks like “Masterswarm” is simply astonishing. It’s impossible for me to pick out a track I love the most, because I love them all, but I picked “Tenuousness” for this GeofCast episode.
   

If you made it this far, thanks!

This is the episode I originally envisioned for the GeofCast. I’m only 18 months late in getting it out …

1. “Darkmatter” – Andrew Bird, Armchair Apocrypha
2. “Aftermath” – Five O’Clock People, Temper Temper
3. “Riga Girls” – The Weepies, Say I Am You
4. “Change Is Hard” – She & Him, Volume One
5. “The Things We Can and Cannot Keep” – Alli Rogers, You and the Evening Sky
6. “Climb On (A Back That’s Strong)” – Caedmon’s Call, 2008-02-24: Philadelphia Biblical University, Langhorne, PA, USA
7. “Watch Your Mouth” – Derek Webb & Sandra McCracken, Ampersand EP
8. “Back Yard in Brooklyn” – Nathan Lee, Down at The Rutledge
9. “Kashmir” – Led Zeppelin, Physical Graffiti

 

 Standard Podcast [47:24m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

So I’m working on the MusicBrainz listing for EP’s Chrome this afternoon, and while I’m looking up a couple thing, I decide to indulge my completionist tendencies and buy Land of the Living and More Than Watchmen, the only two EP recordings I don’t own. [Graciously, Pappy gave me Miracle of Forgetting and The Only Thing by Ridgely some years ago, the day I first met him.]

EP emailed me back to let me know that I’d bought the very last copy of MTW. I find that to be way cooler than it really is. It pleases my inner nerd.

So I posted earlier on Facebook that I was listening to Bon Iver, saying: “Bon Iver on the iPhone in the office this morning. Like Pip says: I hate that someone broke his heart like that, but I do love the result.” My friend Jud replied:

Isn’t it such a strange truth that so much beauty can come from pain? Personally, this is to me the most obvious solution to the problem of evil: in some mysterious way, it was actually “the best world possible” for evil to exist for a time.

That’s one of those things that seems both profound and utterly obvious. If nothing else, I guess this goes along with the Linford Detweiler quote, “Sad music … makes me happy.” It probably also drives home why I listen to Elliott Smith, Portishead, Bon Iver, et al …

I forgot to blog about this then, but a couple weeks back, Andy emailed me to let me know that he’d let the Jars boys borrow my grandfather’s guitar, which I’d lent to him a couple years ago, on a record. I tweeted this, and they confirmed.

I wish I could show this post to my 20-year-old self. I might could have used that to pick up chicks at the BCM or something.

I’ve had Nick’s album since April, and I really dig it. I will include a song on the next GeofCast, but if it helps, I gave it four stars in iTunes.

Brandon and I are going to Florida this weekend to go see STS-127 lift off from the Cape. [I'm bummed that Nathan can't go, since I crashed on his couch last time and everything.] I’m putting together the second episode of the GeofCast to be a summertime driving playlist, with the eye that the whole podcast will be under 80 minutes and the playlist itself under 74, so it could be burned to a CD. I’ve done a first cut at a list, and I’m sorta happy with it, but I’ll take suggestions: what would you put on a summertime driving playlist? Leave a suggestion in the comments.

Okay, so here’s a rant that I’ve had boil up in my head for the better part of a year or two, and finally, well, I’m here.

If I made a band’s Web site, I would have, at a minimum:

1. Lyrics to the songs. This is so unbelievably important, and it’s so unfuckinglybelieveably frustrating that more bands don’t do it. Let me give you a hint, bands: hiding your lyrics from the Web will just have some fanboy put them out there for the world to see, and the people who will get the traffic [and the ad revenue] are the shady jerks with the “Congratulations, you have won a free Nintendo Wii!” ad that screams at you the moment the page loads. You want that traffic. Why? You want them to know who you are.
2. Tour date listings. Essential. It’s a pain to update them, I know. There’s many apps out there for that, but I would choose Yahoo!’s Upcoming if I were you. Upcoming is searchable, scriptable, extensible, and also pretty darn easy to update. Then there are folks like me who use All Crazy Style to mash up Upcoming data with Last.FM plays to find out when bands I like are playing near me. Real simple: you load the data in Upcoming, and you can spit it out on your site. You can update Upcoming from anywhere.
3. Links to listen to your stuff. Don’t fire music at me when I load your site. I know you’re a musician, but the Web is largely about text. Let me choose to listen, and give me that option, but that auto-load bullshit is for MySpace. [And don't get me wrong, MySpace has value.]
4. Links to buy your stuff. These need to be everywhere: main site, discography pages, album pages, individual song pages. If you create a page per song, that individual song page should have a link of a place to buy that song—iTunes, eMusic, what have you. You want to cater to the fan coming in to Google some obscure lyric they heard on a commercial or in a Zach Braff vehicle—they’re gonna buy that shit if you give them half a chance.

The way to think about it is this: most people aren’t going to load up your main Web site and have that be their entry point. They just aren’t. Google is going to send them to you. So, think about a song you really love, Mr. Band Guy, and Google that. So, if you love Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”, you get Last.FM’s page for the song … which has … BINGO … iTunes link. Last has done the heavy lifting for you here. But they’re gonna do that for Page and Plant … chances are they won’t for your garage band.

Some thoughts: if you get a song picked up for Grey’s Anatomy or Kyle XY or whatever, you want to 1) have that fact listed on a page about that song, and not just in a news feed/blog 2) lyrics of the song on that page, so the Googlers who are bad with names but good with ears for mumbled lyrics can find it and 3) a quick, fast way for them to buy that song and 4) relevant links on that page to find out more about you. The scenario is this: “I heard this killer song on Scrubs last night. Let me find it on Google … ooooh, there it is. 99 cents? Sure, I love that song. Hmm … who is this guy? Let me read more about him …”

It’s hell getting found in the music business. It’s hell getting found in the blogging world, too—which is why this entry is named like it is. Chances are that, if you’re not one of my regular readers, you got here from the Goog, too … so you should be nodding your head.

Okay, okay, okay, examples.

Bad: M. Ward: LOUD MUSIC, can’t find shit. Damn shame, because I love M. Ward.

Poor: Shearwater, which has a lyrics page for their stuff, but … in PDF. I know, you want art. I want to cut and paste the lyrics into iTunes. Don’t make me work, dammit.

Okay: The Mountain Goats, who have lyrics for The Sunset Tree available, but that page does not get you anywhere on that site. There isn’t a link to be found—not to the rest of the site, not to a place to buy the song you Googled, nothing. Kudos for posting the links, though.

Good: Andy Osenga, and not just because he uses some of my photos on the site. But he’s still not to great, because lyrics … Andy Osenga lyrics on Google don’t get you anywhere near him. [Or, for that matter, near andrewosenga.net, which is a problem Chris Hubbs and I should fix...]

Great: well, hell, no one really comes to mind. Leave suggestions for good band sites in the comments.

Folks, I know … this shit is hard. But it makes you money, so you better work at it.

Lately, I have become a fan of Rogue Amoeba’s products. This should surprise exactly no one: they write software focused around audio for OS X, and I’m an audio nerd who loves OS X. When I saw that NPR was streaming M. Ward’s Hold Time, I decided to put Audio Hijack Pro and Fission through their paces.

I’m just scratching the surface of what AHP can do, I know. I’m using Quick Record to do this because, well, I’m lame. But in my case, AHP is taking the audio output of Firefox and recording it as an Internet stream, 128kbps stereo AAC. It does everything in one big chunk, which I then feed to …

… Fission, which claims to be “Fast, Lossless Audio Editing”. And for what I used it for, it’s quite, quite true. Now, as a note, I’m okay with the lossiness here because 1) this is a transport medium and 2) I’ve already pre-ordered the CD. I am also that person who, when coming in contact with, shall we say, illicitly-gained audio, listens and makes a quick buy/trash decision. If I don’t like it, I trash it. Very simple. Again, I’m gonna want [and buy, and cherish, and let you pry from my cold, dead fingers] the lossless version, so what’s happening here is a net win. [Looking at you, RIAA.]

Suffice it to say that I’m a happy dude.

This will seem obvious to anyone who thinks about it for more than a minute or two, but:

JPG : RAW :: MP3 : FLAC

JPGs [and GIFs, and PNGs, and the like] are great for transport, as are MP3s [and M4A/AAC, WMA, etc.]: both trade fidelity for filesize. Good is the enemy of great, though. I’m sometimes asked why I don’t buy many digital downloads of music, or why I hoard hard disks like they’re gonna stop making them. The answer is pretty simple: I want all the bits. I believe in a future where our compressed copies are gonna be like the 8-track—we’ll remember them fondly for their portability, but we won’t have anything to play on them.

I am, also, the same person whose first act on opening a physical CD is to make a copy of it; after ripping, that CD goes back into its case and is rarely seen again.

Don’t make me cut you.

Update: Hunter smacked me later, noting that PNG is indeed lossless. I will now light myself on fire.

Let me be clear: I’m cheating and using iTunes here. Specifically …

• Date is in the range: 01 Jan 2008 – 31 Dec 2008
• Kind does not contain AIFF [to filter out unprocessed bootlegs and demos].
• Grouping does not contain Extant [to filter out where I migrated my library off of my old Mac to my new one]; I then did a manual check of the Extants with a similar list and my Musiclogging archives.
• Album Rating is greater than three stars.
• Genre does not contain Concert Bootleg. If desired, I’ll cover the best of the best concert bootlegs in a separate post, probably no earlier than Friday because I’m still adding bootlegs. [I am not adding any more studio releases at this point.]

This list is unoptimized; it’s actually done in alphabetical order by artist. At the end, I’ll give a best-of list, countdown style. Because I like embracing constraints, I’ll give a one-sentence statement about each album as to why it’s just so darn good. If you’ve ever talked to me for longer than 90 seconds, you know that one sentence is an unreal constraint.

• Andrew Bird, Armchair Apocrypha, grabbed in January. Intelligent, charming folk/pop … with whistling.
• Blind Faith, Blind Faith, grabbed in August. It’s too bad that these guys couldn’t keep it together, but I’ve come to the conclusion that one-off groupings for albums can be a killer thing.
• Tom Brosseau, Late Night at Largo, grabbed in February. Recorded after everyone left the bar that night, it’s a live record without an audience that showcases Brosseau’s brilliance as a songwriter.
• City and Colour, Bring Me Your Love, grabbed in May. Dallas Green’s writing is enough for me to forgive him for using his Canadian ou.
• Matt Costa, Songs We Sing, grabbed in December. Just when you think that you’re done with singer/songwriters, someone like Matt Costa comes along.
• Matt Costa, Unfamiliar Faces, grabbed in December. Oh Miss Magnolia … oh Mr. Pit, oh Mr. Pitiful.
• Death Cab for Cutie, Narrow Stairs, grabbed in May. I would lock Ben Gibbard up in Dick Cheney’s “undisclosed location” if he’d make another killer record like this one.
• Death Cab for Cutie, Transatlanticism, grabbed in July. It’s a good thing that emo bands like this weren’t big when I was 15.
• Deb Talan, A Bird Flies Out, grabbed in April. I would ask Deb Talan to marry me if Steve Tannen hadn’t done so first.
• Deb Talan, Sincerely, grabbed in May. Even if her voice is a bit … unique.
• Alejandro Escovedo, Real Animal, grabbed in September. I had read No Depression rave about Escovedo for some time, and dammit, they were right.
• Five O’Clock People, Temper Temper, grabbed in March. Now if they can only go less than half-a-decade before putting out another disc.
• Gnarls Barkley, The Odd Couple, grabbed in August. I’m still picking up pieces of my mind blown apart by this record.
• Gnarls Barkley, St. Elsewhere, grabbed in August. Gnarls Barkley makes me want to buy a bunch of old soul records, which I’d argue is a good thing for my musical self-education.
• Randall Goodgame, Bluebird, grabbed in November. If you ever wanted Randall Goodgame to stop playing the guitar all the time, these tracks are for you.
• Andy Gullahorn, Reinventing the Wheel, grabbed in November. Gully’s ability to have you laughing in one verse and hating yourself in the next is still with it; it feels like he’s got a Greg Maddux-like songwriting career ahead of him.
• Iron & Wine, The Shepherd’s Dog, grabbed in August. I used to sorta like Sam Beam, and this record made me love him.
• Jackopierce, Promise of Summer, grabbed in September. This is a NoiseTrade success story, and it turns out my friend David manages them, too, which is fun.
• Matthew Perryman Jones, Swallow the Sea, grabbed in August. There is a reason that MPJ started getting his songs played on TV, and it’s because the man cuts deep into his soul and bleeds all over your ears … in a good way.
• Carole King, Tapestry, grabbed in April. Thank you, Gilmore Girls, for making me feel like a natural woman … I think.
• Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin, grabbed in January. I am of the opinion that great blues/rock bands have a shelf life, but man, these guys hit it hard early, eh?
• Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin II, grabbed in January. And then they followed it up with a record at least as good as the first one.
• Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin III, grabbed in January. Hats Off (to Led Zeppelin) for making another killer record.
• Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin IV, grabbed in February. Been a long time since rock and roll sounded like this, but hey, paying homage to this would sound weaksauce.
• Led Zeppelin, Physical Graffiti, grabbed in February. For “Kashmir” alone, but the rest of the record is really fucking good.
• Nathan Lee, Down at the Rutledge, grabbed in February. If you stuffed the soul of The Boss and The Piano Man into a muscled, keyboard-banging dude who lights up Nashville, you’d get Nathan Lee.
• Sandra McCracken, Red Balloon, which I had in August, long before it came out, neener neener neener! I still feel like Sandra’s best record is yet to come, which is both a compliment and not, if you think about it.
• Nirvana, Nevermind, grabbed in August. I can’t believe I didn’t have a copy in the 1990s; I had the plaid shirt jackets from Eddie Bauer, dammit.
• Over the Rhine, Live From Nowhere, Volume Three, grabbed in August. I don’t care that there are great tapers for Over the Rhine: I will buy every damn one of these yearly records if only to support Karin and Linford as they continue to make beautiful music.
• Andrew Osenga, Letters to the Editor: Volume Two, which I helped distribute in September. I am admittedly quite biased, but hey, he didn’t play my guitar on this one, so back off.
• Andrew Peterson, Resurrection Letters, Volume Two, which, um, I never blogged, apparently. Looks like I got it in mid-August according to iTunes metadata. Not as good as previous AP albums, but still very good.
• Portishead, Third, grabbed in December. From everything I read, it’s like Portishead and Trent Reznor had a baby, but it’s one beautiful, industrial baby.
• Radiohead, The Bends, grabbed in December. It’s good enough that I’m overcoming my “don’t put the shiny new bauble on the year-end list” sentiment.
• Radiohead, Hail to the Thief, grabbed in December. Wacky song titles, impenetrable lyrics, and a shitload of rock and roll.
• Radiohead, In Rainbows, grabbed in July. You could have had this for free, and you don’t still have it?
• Alli Rogers, The Silent Stars EP, grabbed in December. Iowan singer/songwriter makes a homespun Christmas record.
• Alli Rogers, You and the Evening Sky, grabbed in March. I really feel like Alli gets lost in the sea of Midwestern-bred female songstresses, which is a damn shame.
• She & Him, Volume One, grabbed in March. I don’t like this as much as Paste does [really, #1, guys? REALLY!?], but it’s a fun listen.
• The Soft Drugs, Get Back – Side A, which I never blogged because I downloaded this one on the recommendation of one of the music blogs I read. And, of course, now I can’t find it. Who cares where I got it, it’s four tracks of fun pop/rock.
• Steven Delopoulos, As If Love Was a Sword, which I also appear to have never blogged, nor have any URLs for. Sad. You either love Delopoulos’s ethnic-tinged songwriting and fingerpicking, or you don’t; I do.
• Waterdeep, Heart Attack Time Machine, which is a NoiseTrade download, and as such, is something I can’t link to here something I have now linked to since Derek was the bus driver and drove me to school. John Wilson, you were right to pimp these guys to me all these years.
• Derek Webb and Sandra McCracken, Ampersand EP, grabbed in February. I think I’m contractually bound to put them on there for making a record I’d wanted them to make for at least 18 months.
• The Weepies, iTunes EP, which I never blogged but love. And before you fuss, that’s an iTunes Plus link. These exclusive EPs are fun ways to get into a band’s history, as this does in bringing songs from both Deb and Steve’s solo careers into The Weepies’ sphere of influence.
• The Weepies, Happiness, grabbed in February. This is not the record to start with, but it’s good.
• The Weepies, Hideaway, grabbed in April. I would call this a bit of a major-label sophomore slump, but it’s still good; shame they didn’t tour it.
• The Weepies, Say I Am You, grabbed in January. This record makes me want to be in love, which is the best compliment I can think of to give it.
• Wilco, Kicking Television, grabbed in April. I’ve got bootlegs that are better than this, but it’s pretty damn solid, and I’m a completionist.

That’s 47 albums. Yowza! About one a week … that’s a very, very good year.

Now, I’m gonna take it to 11 … and be a bit more verbose.

1. Radiohead, In Rainbows. There is nothing that I can add to all that has been said about this album, from the distribution to the music itself. I didn’t buy this until it came out on a physical disc [I'm a curmudgeon and have this problem, which I'm hoping to lick in 2009], but this is the album that made me a Radiohead fan, much as Yankee Hotel Foxtrot made me a Wilco fan. Favorite Tracks: “Nude”, “Reckoner”, “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”.
   
2. The Weepies, Say I Am You. 2008 was a weird year for me; I spent a lot of it pursuing a relationship that didn’t ultimately work out, and a lot of this album was my soundtrack. This is right in my wheelhouse, to be sure—singer/songwriter-y, acoustic guitar-driven, solid melody and harmony. In a world where In Rainbows doesn’t exist, it’s my best album of the year. Favorite Tracks: “Painting By Chagall”, “Riga Girls”.
   
3. Andrew Bird, Armchair Apocrypha. I bought this album on a lark, because it was well-regarded. Some of my best musical purchases are done that way, and this is definitely one of them. I think what gets me about Andrew Bird is that he’s a self-comfortable artist who is willing to experiment and do big things with his sound. The analog to an artist I’m friends with is the amazingness of Jeremy Casella’s Recovery [and if Jerry ever sees this, he's gonna hit me for putting him and Bird in the same sentence]. This is one of those albums I find myself singing often, and there is no greater tribute to me than that. Favorite Tracks: “Darkmatter”, “Plasticities”, and “Scythian Empires”. I never will forget whistling the last as I was walking through the Nashville airport on my way back from Philly after a whirlwind, 20-hour trip to see Caedmon’s Call play.
   
4. Five O’Clock People, Temper Temper. I was a big fan of 5OCP when they were making music in the 1990s, and so I grabbed this as soon as I heard it came out. It was … nothing like their old sound, in a lot of ways, but man, it frickin’ rocks. Favorite Tracks: “Gold Rush”, “Aftermath”, and “February”.
   
5. Gnarls Barkley, The Odd Couple. I had heard all this buzz about Gnarls Barkley, but just … dismissed it for whatever reason. I do that; I’m dumb. But then one day “Who’s Gonna Save My Soul” was highlighted on NPR, and I almost had to pull over to the side of the road, I was so blown away. Favorite Tracks: “Who’s Gonna Save My Soul”, “Run (I’m a Natural Disaster)”.
   
6. Death Cab for Cutie, Narrow Stairs. Like with Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago, a lot has been made about this record coming out of Ben Gibbard taking residence where Jack Kerouac did at Big Sur. I’m of the mind that creative pursuits are often terribly lonely affairs, so I think this was a good idea. This record brought the lyrical brilliance and nose for melody that Death Cab’s always had, but they also exhibited their musical chops on it, too. For whatever weird reason, I want to draw parallels to this and Elliott Smith’s Figure 8. Favorite Tracks: “I Will Possess Your Heart”, “Cath…”, and “Long Division”.
   
7. Iron & Wine, The Shepherd’s Dog. I simply did not think that Sam Beam had this much awesome within him. I am very glad to be wrong. Very, very glad. Favorite Tracks: “House of the Sea”, “Wolves (Song of the Shepherd’s Dog”, “Peace Beneath the City”.
   
8. Tom Brosseau, Late Night at Largo. At this point, you have to mail a check to Tom Brosseau’s management to get a copy. It is worth your time in doing so. I’ve written about Brosseau before, but here he is in a nutshell: North Dakota boy moved to LA that writes about home because he both misses it and hates it, in a way. If you grew up in a cold climate and have moved to warmer latitudes, you know where he’s coming from. His music has a sense of ironic detachment, but it’s also just plain good. Also, he sings so high that he makes Thom Yorke in falsetto sound like Barry White. Favorite Tracks: “Rose”, “Broken Ukulele”, and “Young and Free”.
   
9. Matt Costa, Unfamiliar Faces. Okay, I’ve got a thing for young guys who write songs about not getting the girl, or getting the girl and losing the girl, but … dude, this guy can rock it up. Favorite Tracks: “Emergency Call”, “Heart of Stone”, and “Miss Magnolia”.
   
10. Matthew Perryman Jones, Swallow the Sea. Unlike most years, this is the only time when an artist I personally know appears on the list. I think that most of that is because I’m becoming harder on my friends’ more recent albums, honestly. But MPJ made a killer, killer record here, a worthy followup to Throwing Punches in the Dark, which I was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to top. He topped it, though. Favorite Tracks: “Save You”, “Motherless Child”, and “Feels Like Letting Go”.
    
11. Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin IV. There is nothing I can add to this that hasn’t been said, eh? This is my favorite Zep album, even if it doesn’t have all of my favorite songs. Favorite Tracks: “Black Dog”, “Rock and Roll”, “Stairway to Heaven”. I mean, duh.
    

What about you? Do you have some of these records and violently disagree? Did I overlook something to the point that you’re ready to shake me for not listening to it? I wanna know.

Earlier today, Will commented:

It’s the Solstice. It’s the foundation of Christmas. It predates it. Have a good one.

He’s exactly right. I have tried to spend the solstice in the same way the last couple of years: listening to Over the Rhine’s The Darkest Night of the Year:

Don’t buy it from Amazon, though; go grab it at overtherhine.com, or buy it through iTunes.

At the moment this entry goes live, it’s sunset on the winter solstice in 2008 in my city. From my house to yours, have a Merry Christmas.

If I have a musical failing that my friends would rip me for, it’s “Not owning enough Sixpence.” So when I saw they had a Christmas album, I grabbed it … and have held it until now. Since August. See, Mike, holding out? IT’S JUST NOT THAT HARD.

[You're welcome, Kari.]