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.

making a list. checking it at least five times.

Now that I have the first semester of grad school out of the way I have time to sit still and make lists. That's what Christmas is all about, isn't it? I've been pondering which beer and/or liquor would pair best with each of the different theoretical approaches to pyschotherapy. I've made a list of books to read (and made the decision to start with Wendell Berry's A Place on Earth). There are lists of things to buy for my apartment, of preparations needed for next semester and of events, gatherings and celebrations being held now and into the new year. But one list I particularly enjoy making this time of year is that of the best music released in the past 12 months. I'm not alone, of course. Every other music publication or fan who cares to take the time creates a list as well. I especially like to read everyone else's opinions so that I can scoff and mock and compare to my clearly superior selections. So, I present the 40 albums that I most enjoyed this year, in descending order. I've tried to make this simple. The order was determined based on the number of repeat listens or the quality of the listening experience (that probably makes more sense if you're in my head). I've added some videos in an effort to hold your attention. Let the arguing begin.

40. Fang Island - Fang Island
39. S. Carey - All We Grow
38. Avi Buffalo - Avi Buffalo
37. Avey Tare - Down There
36. Best Coast - Crazy For You

35. Janelle Monae - The ArchAndroid
34. Lower Dens - Twin Hand Movement
33. Field Music - Field Music (Measure)
32. Wolf Parade - Expo 86
31. Spoon - Transference

30. Broken Social Scene - Forgiveness Rock Record
29. The New Pornagraphers - Together
28. The Black Keys - Brothers
27. LCD Soundsystem - This is Happening
26. Belle & Sebastian - Write About Love

25. Sleigh Bells - Treats

24. Flying Lotus - Cosmogramma

23. Shearwater - The Golden Archipelago
22. Retribution Gospel Choir - 2
21. Sufjan Stevens - Age of Adz

20. Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
19. Warpaint - The Fool
18. Local Natives - Gorilla Manor
17. Gil Scott-Heron - I'm New Here
16. She & Him - Volume 2

15. Broken Bells - Broken Bells

14. Big Boi - Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty
13. Male Bonding - Nothing Hurts
12. The Besnard Lakes - ...Are the Roaring Night
11. The Morning Benders - Big Echo

10. Menomena - Mines
9. The Roots - How I Got Over
8. Charlotte Gainsboug - IRM
7. Gorillaz - Plastic Beach
6. The Radio Dept. - Clinging to a Scheme

5. Vampire Weekend - Contra

4. Beach House - Teen Dream
3. Arcade Fire - The Suburbs
2. Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest
1. The National - High Violet

art. music. insight.

I recently had the opportunity to hear an art therapist tell stories about her education, career and clients. She shared pieces from folks she has worked with that either left an impression on the client or on her or on both and it was clear that these simple drawings, illustrations and collages had opened a door to a deeper connection, one that probably would not have been possible with words alone. My classmates and I were invited to participate in this phenomena by simply drawing what our "weather" looked like that day using markers and a blank sheet of paper. Without really even thinking I took to the task and found that it was not hard to translate my emotions into colors and shapes. Before I knew it I had illustrated a story that summed up my entire week, my emotional landscape and my physical health. And the really sneaky part? When asked to interpret my drawing to others I readily divulged a bunch of personal information that I probably would not have considered sharing with anyone otherwise. It really snuck up on me, but it was actually totally natural and I was left in awe at the power of this simple idea.

Later, the connection between art therapy and music was made clear to me. I suddenly understood that I connect to music in much the same way folks connect to the art they create from their feelings. What "moves" me about certain songs or artists is how they somehow represent the things I'm feeling, the mood I'm in, the thoughts I've had or the things I've done. Sometimes this happens in the lyrics. Other times it's hidden in the music itself, somehow intertwined with the instrumentation. This realization has caused me to be more thoughtful in my approach to music and it has made me more intentional in my listening, something I wasn't sure was possible. I've started choosing one song each day as a sort of theme, something that both summarizes where I am emotionally at the time and also appeals to my ears that day. I've found that some songs are sticking with me across several days, in some cases weeks. I carry them with me for a while until the time when I've moved on, of sorts. Then I find a new song. I thought maybe I'd share some of the music that has been a theme for me in one way or another recently. I'll refrain of explaining all the reasons why, mostly because that feels too intimate, but also because a lot of times I don't ask myself to find all the answers. Sometimes I don't know, and that's okay.

Arcade Fire - "We Used to Wait" from the The Suburbs (2010)

I guess I feel like I've done a lot of waiting recently. I think I'm understanding that in some way, the waiting never stops. There is always something to wait for and in many ways, the anticipation is what keeps me going.

J. Tillman - "Year in the Kingdom" from Year in the Kingdom (2009)

This one came up on shuffle last week and I was reminded of how Josh's music finds a way to cut to the core of me. There is a certain kind of melancholy in his voice. It's sad and sweet at the same time.

The Radio Dept. - "A Token of Gratitude" from Clinging to a Scheme (2010)

It's definitely the music I connect to on this one. I think it's mostly the pulsing fog horn sound. I can't really explain it. It's one of the mysteries I've accepted.

Twin Shadow - "I Can't Wait" from Forget (2010)

If "We Used to Wait" is the positive side of waiting, I suppose this is the negative. Waiting is hard and I wish it was over. I like the sleepy dance party feel. Can. We. Please. Gohomealready.

going to sleep

I don't fall asleep to music often but recently I had the urge so, I turned on a record that I don't listen to nearly enough and curled up in bed. Before I knew it I was off to dreamland (which is where former high school classmates meet on submarines to discuss the current state of cd manufacturing and make light hearted jokes about the fact that I'm not wearing any pants while I aimlessly wonder around the room trying to find some very important piece of paper on which I've scribbled the names of my unborn children). The record I'm talking about is called Thom's Night Out. It has nothing to do with Thom Yorke, at least as far as I know. No, it has much more to do with wailing strings and rumbling percussion and pulsing bassoons. The band that recorded this record is called Clogs.

Now, I'll tell you what drew me to this record in this moment, when I decided I would let guitars, violins and pianos lull me to sleep instead of sirens, buses and occasional yelling-into-cell-phone-passerby. Clogs is made up of four members. One of them happens to be Bryce Dessner. Don't know who he is? Well, perhaps you should. He and his twin brother, Aaron, play in another little band called The National. Since I have a not so subtle obsession with The National I was naturally interested in hearing what Clogs have to say. That turns out to be next to nothing because Clogs is an instrumental band, one that sounds very little like The National. It also turns out that Clogs pre-date The National in both real life and in my music catalog. I've had two of their albums for a couple of years now and have never really bothered to get to know them. This is a reoccurring problem for me. Does it bother me? No. I've got so much music just lying around it's become a treasure hunt. Sometimes I never know what I will stumble upon.

So, here's the deal with Thom's Night Out. It's all hand drums and violas and Middle Eastern rhythms. It's almost classical, but really more post rock, in the same vein as Rachel's. It's sweet and scary and dark and alluring all at once. Whoever Thom is, I imagine that his night out was in a place like Morocco or Damascus. When I think of Morocco I think of the Dave Eggers novel You Shall Know Our Velocity!, which is about two friends who decide they'd like to travel around the world and give away cash. I don't remember much about it except that I liked it and that they have some adventures in Morocco. When I think of Damascus I tend to think of the most excellent soft serve at Jimme Cone (check out the guy who complains about it melting too fast) in the heart of Damascus, Maryland...not Syria. (By the way is it jimmies or sprinkles??) In neither of those places do I imagine someone named Thom. But here's where things come together. While listening to this album I was lulled to sleep and encouraged to dream, and in the wonderful world of dreams I can order soft serve at Jimmie Cone in Morocco from a dude named Thom and it's totally normal.

If you can get your hands on this album, do it. Then listen to "Sadness & Obsession" and tell me that at around the three minute mark the growling bassoon doesn't sound like an Egyptian tiger purring while enjoying a chocolate and vanilla swirl with rainbow sprinkles.

Clogs - Thom's Night Out (2001)

no sleep. just beats. pt 2

For one reason or another I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I'll get home from a late class close to 11pm and instead of turning in I crack open a beer and watch consecutive episodes of Entourage. What is wrong with me? No joke, that's a question I have been asking myself a lot lately. Self diagnosis is my new favorite past time. In fact, that may be one of the contributing factors to my sleepiness. I'm analyzing everything these days. So, why not continue that trend with music?

I want to share three more lesser known rap records. I'd venture to say these three are even more overlooked than the Pharcyde, Digable Planets and Gravediggaz albums mentioned previously. Those had commercial appeal on some level. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you see things), the three discussed in this post have never had a radio hit and are really in the "underground" sub genre. If you ask me, it is not easy to find decent rap music down there in the underground, but these three really shine.



Viktor Vaughn - Vaudeville Villain (2003)

You may know him better as MF Doom. Of three albums listed here, his name is likely most familiar. Doom has had some strong success over the past few years. It hasn't hurt that he's made friends with some rather famous artists like Danger Mouse, Madlib, Ghostface and the late-great J Dilla, but the truth is that Doom can get the job done without any of them. Vaudeville Villain is proof of that. One of his first titles not to be self produced, Doom enlists relative unknowns (except for the brilliant RJD2) to tweak the knobs on this first release under the Viktor Vaughn moniker. The result is one of the most cohesive and consistent albums of his career (to go along with Operation Doomsday and Madvillainy).

Don't let all the dark language fool you though. True to his style, the rhymes are all over the map, displaying a certain degree of attention deficit in the best possible way. It's really no wonder why he and Ghostface get along so well. Vaudeville Villain is sharp and witty with dense atmosphere and lacks the too frequent vocal sampling that often plague some of Doom's other work. Overall it's the tight production, the creative sense of humor and the non-stop flow that make this one such a winner.




Shape of Broad Minds - Craft of the Lost Art (2007)

On this one Jneiro Jarel, who is one interesting dude, actually splits himself into several parts to create a "group" of three alter egos: Dr. Who Dat, Panama Black and Rocque One. Did you get that? We're talking about one guy pretending to be three different people who compose the rap group Shape of Broad Minds. That fact alone was enough to peak my interest. As it turns out, it's not just the concept for the group that is a bit bizarre but the overall sound and format is kinda out there. I think you could easily say it sounds like no other rap album you've heard.

Jarel has done work with a myriad of artists whose sound ranges from zombie rock to southern funk and he somehow manages to sprinkle all of those influences into Craft of Lost Art to create a perfect blend. This is not an easy listen, however, which is probably one of it's strengths. Dr. Who Dat will challenge your perception of hip-hop. Contributing instrumentalist Jawwaad Taylor highlights rhythms and melodies in a bold, unique way. Panama Black spits a steady flow over dark basement tracks, sparse outer space jams and jazzy tunes. If Goodie Mob, J Dilla, and TV On The Radio birthed a schizophrenic baby it might come out sounding something like Shape of Broad Minds.




Blu & Exile - Below the Heavens (2007)

Blu most recently turned up on the excellent How I Got Over from the Roots and I was pleased to see our hometown heroes giving some love to this slept on LA rapper. Although he's been involved with several other projects since '07 none of them showcase his talent like Below the Heavens. Here, Exile (one half of the duo Emanon) takes care of the production allowing Blu to lay down some of the most insightful and entertaining rhymes of the past five years. Think of him as a more charming, more talented Lupe Fiasco (no offense to Lupe, I'm a fan). The album sounds as hopeful as Blu appears on the cover, regardless of the subject matter. Blu has a way of delivering lines that despite the containing the occasional poison still taste like candy. Take "Blu Collar Worker" for example. The sun is shining, Blu is putting in work, telling all the gold digging ladies he doesn't have time for them in rather stern words but you'll still find yourself bouncing along with a smile on your face. He's gifted and I'm still hoping the dude finds himself in a position to reach a larger audience.

Now, I'm planning to go home, turn on the Phillies game and fall asleep (certainly not due to lack of interest). We'll see how that goes.