i still care (best of 2011)

I will be honest with you...2011 is a year that I hope I never have to live through again. It's end is approaching just as quickly as it's beginning but in-between there has been much loss, much hardship, much joy and much growth, all of which has caused time to both stand still while simultaneously traveling at the speed of light. In 2011 I lost my home and all of my material possessions. I literally watched the building burn. I rode the waves of fear and joy as I learned that I would become a father, wholly unexpected. I endured difficult self-reflection in preparation for a career in the mental health field. All of these things slowly came together, building on each other in small ways until they became one large lump in my throat. My world has changed and continues to slowly evolve. This is not a bad thing. In fact, I'm grateful for it (except for maybe the whole losing everything I own part). It's just an incredibly difficult transition, which I do not have the words to adequately describe. On the other side, which I can now see from here, there is a lifetime of restoration, forgiveness and more joy. Much more joy.

Throughout this year I have felt the presence of two unwavering sources of life: love and music. It has been the love of God, so tangible that I felt as if I could reach out and touch it sometimes, that has lifted me. The love of family and friends and of co-workers and strangers has changed me and caused me to feel a gratefulness deeper than I knew was possible. And whlie I wouldn't go so far as to say that a DJ saved my life, the music of this year has grounded me, provided an outlet for my emotions and given my thoughts, struggles and triumphs a soundtrack. So, while I have not had as much time to spend here as I would have liked it is certainly not due to a lack of interest. I still listen. I still care. And I still enjoy making lists.

So, here is a list. It includes my 50 favorite albums from the past year. I was tempted to write something about each of them but I quickly realized that I don't have the time. I suppose that speaks to the regret I hold from not writing about these records during the year. At any rate, they'll go in descending order, each one will link to a song and I'll include some videos. Here's to pretending you're important!

50. Braids - Native Speaker
49. The Decemberists - The King is Dead
48. David Bazan - Strange Negotiations
47. The Caretaker - An Empty Bliss Beyond This World
46. Jay-Z & Kanye West - Watch the Throne



45. EMA - Past Life Martyred Saints
44. Suuns - Zeroes QC
43. Denison Witmer - The Ones Who Wait
42. Low - C'Mon
41. Wilco - The Whole Love



40. SBTRKT - SBTRKT
39. Anna Calvi - Anna Calvi
38. The Black Keys - El Camino
37. Feist - Metals
36. Clams Casino - Instrumental Mixtape



35. Iron & Wine - Kiss Each Other Clean
34. Various Artists - Norman OST
33. Colin Stetson - New History Warfare, Vol. 2: Judges
32. Washed Out - Within and Without
31. Atlas Sound - Parallax



30. The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Belong
29. Radiohead - The King of Limbs
28. Cass McCombs - Wit's End
27. Neon Indian - Era Extraña
26. Oddisee - Rock Creek Park



25. Tom Waits - Bad As Me
24. Toro Y Moi - Underneath the Pine
23. The Roots - undun
22. Shabazz Palaces - Black Up
21. Zola Jesus - Conatus

20. Bright Eyes - The People's Key

19. Destroyer - Kaputt
18. The Psychic Paramount - II
17. James Blake - James Blake
16. Pure X - Pleasure



15. Thao & Mirah - Thao & Mirah
14. Real Estate - Days
13. Battles - Gloss Drop
12. Lykke Li - Wounded Rhymes
11. Yuck - Yuck

10. The Weeknd - House of Balloons
9. The War On Drugs - Slave Ambient

8. M83 - Hurry Up, We're Dreaming

7. St. Vincent - Strange Mercy

6. Wye Oak - Civilian

5. The Antlers - Burst Apart

4. Frank Ocean - Nostalgia, Ultra

3. tUnE-yArDs - w h o k i l l

2. Bon Iver - Bon Iver

1. Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues

things (not) lost in the fire.

At this point I have spent most of my Saturday doing last minute research for a literature review paper and you would think that I've had enough of reading and writing and staring at a computer screen for one day but something is drawing me here tonight. That something is a memory. It's a memory of DJ Shadow, of 4800 Walnut St., of January 2011 and of a unique experience that I hope no one else out there has to live through.

When I moved to Philadelphia in 2001 I was fortunate enough to have some really great roommates. I was foreign to city life in so many ways, although I was eager to fit in and to become a local. I didn't realize then how artistic the city was, Philly in particular. When I say artistic I mean it every since of the word, from glass blowing to mural painting to music and film and literature. There is something here for everyone. Needless to say I was introduced to much of it, whether I wanted to be or not. One of the things my roommates and others helped me with was musc. I learned about artists that I probably should have been listening to for years. Included in those was DJ Shadow.

On January 10 of this year (which also happened to be the date of my last post) I sat in front of my computer at work in the late afternoon and watched live coverage of the fire in my apartment building. I held out hope that the flames wouldn't spread to my side of the building, that somehow the firefighters would get control of it before much more damage was done. Two hours later I was driving over the Betsy Ross bridge, headed from work in New Jersey to the city, and I could see the smoke coming from west Philly. I knew then that things were much worse than I had been hoping. When I arrived on the scene the flames were already tearing through the roof on my side of the building and although my apartment was on the first floor, safe from fire, I imagined all of my belongings floating in pool of water from the flood being poured onto the levels above and the walls outside. Whether I was right or not remains a mystery. I haven't been into the building since. They boarded it up the next day, chained up all of the entrances and fenced in the perimeter. It's been condemned and is scheduled for demolition.

The night of the fire I signed in with the Red Cross and then walked over to the local bar. There really wasn't much else to do. In retrospect I suppose I was in a bit of shock, but at the time I felt unusually safe and secure. I had a drink with someone close who met me there to make sure I was okay, a nice lady from the neighborhood picked up my tab after hearing my story and I made arrangements to crash on a friends couch. The month since then has been a non-stop whirlwind of phone calls, apartment hunting, clothes shopping, furniture shopping, donation pickups, security deposit refunds, spring semester assignments, belated birthday celebrations, numerous social landmarks of an unrelated nature, a weekend trip to Seattle for a desperately needed getaway (and coincidental celebration of a dear friend's 30 years on earth) and insurance hula-hoops (Mom, I can't thank you enough for talking me into renter's insurance!!!).

Lost in the fire was my music collection, along with all of my other possessions. Fortunately, I had taken my ipod to work with me that day and a lot of my library was saved in digital format. But I spent the two weeks after the fire trying to get my barrings. I was sleeping (sorta) in a friends extra room in South Philly while attempting to put my life back together and music was something I simply did not have time for. That's not normal, folks. I suppose that goes along with the rest of the story. None of this is normal. I would have imagined myself in a situation like this as taking solace and asylum in music (that's how it's worked for me in the past) but it didn't happen. I had stuff playing in the car while I traveled, as I always do, but I was too busy talking on the phone, texting (I know, I know...) and thinking to get anything out of it. It wasn't until I was making the 30 minute drive to North Philly to pick up my refunded security deposit a little over two weeks after the fire that I finally Heard music again. And it was DJ Shadow's "Mutual Slump" that made me put aside everything else and nod my head. I turned up the volume and felt a lightness that I had not known since January 9.

Now, I don't know what it was about this song that managed to make me feel more congruent (I hope it's okay to use a little psychology lingo there). Perhaps it was the memory, buried deep in my mind and in this music, of where I had come from. I survived my introductory period in Philly and done so with such success that I actually like it here. In a strange way DJ Shadow played a small part in that. The song was familiar, one of the only familiar things that I had left after the fire. But maybe more than that...the drums are fantastic! I knew it was significant when I reached for the volume and decided to let the music overshadow everything else that was in my head that day. It meant that I was still me, that I could suffer yet another loss, and continue to hold onto the things that give me joy.

Over the next few weeks I was a witness to things that still give me pause and amazement to this day. If you're going to lose all your stuff and become homeless overnight, I hope you do it with friends, family and co-workers like mine. I have been deep in God's care. He has reached out his hands to me in the form of generous people, some strangers, some long time companions. Through it all I've come to a new appreciation of people, the power of "thank you" and in a small way, of music. I always knew it was a time capsule, but I've never had to dig it up and remember quite like I have this year.

DJ Shadow - Endtroducting... (1996)

not quite done with zero-ten.

I've got three things to share with you. Twin Hand Movement by Lower Dens really should have been in my top 20 albums of 2010. It's much better than my previous ranking of 34. After several more listens I'm embarrassed that it was so low on the list. Also, I learned that most of the band is from Baltimore, which gives them several more cool points. The message here: Listen to this album as much as possible.



There are two albums that would have made the best of list had I known about them beforehand. I will tell you about them after-hand or afterwards or...now. The first is called Causers of This by Toro Y Moi. We're talking about one dude, whose real name is Chazwick Bundick, which is awesome. Apparently in the summer of 2009 the music industry experienced something called the "chillwave" movement. I was unaware. Although in my defense, in the summer of 2009 I spent most of my time living as a Trappist monk might: in solitude with books and a journal as my friends and beer as my food. As far as I'm concerned, 2009 only lasted for three months yet contained a lifetime's worth of regret and lessons learned. But I digress. Imagine if early '90s R&B was combined with dance music from later that decade, sprinkle in some Animal Collective-sounding vocals and you'll get a good feel for what Causers of This brings to the table. It's very...chill.



Just after I posted my list Ghostface Killah decided to release his new LP Apollo Kids. Actually, I'm sure he had thought about it before that. In fact, he may not have thought about it at all and left that decision to Jay-Z and the others at Def Jam. At any rate, someone dropped it in stores the week before Christmas, giving folks zero time to stop and listen to it. I didn't even know he had new music in the pipeline and wasn't aware it was in stores until just before the new year. It's a shame because this is a gem. He's spared us the meaningless and mind numbing skits and filler and delivered 12 solid tracks of throwback sounding, Wu-Tang crushing hip-hop. I mean this even manages to make old Wu affiliates Killah Priest and Sun God sound good again, and they may have never sounded good to begin with. And my favorite part? A guest spot by Black Thought from the Roots on In Tha Park. Thought has rarely sounded hungrier. It's about time the Roots and Wu got together in some form.