Not all music is worth a second listen. In fact, a lot of it isn't. In fact, I have probably forgotten more songs than I'll ever know, and my expansive, mostly-unknown-to-me iTunes library is a testament to that truth. But I figured I would do the inevitable, and post here, for your consideration, the handful of albums that I can always go back to, that I can always contemplate, that I can always fucking rock my shit out to, that I can listen to even during a terrible, day-long hangover like today's. (I dressed up as a robot and forgot myself.) These are in a particular order, probably, but whatever, I don't know what it is:
1. Neutral Milk Hotel's "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea." It's the kind of good that makes you want to become a rock star, but renders you completely devoid of inspiration at the same time. I don't want you to get the wrong idea, that maybe I'm just trying to suck up by putting this on my list, but just know that *I* wouldn't trust a greatest albums list that doesn't mention "Aeroplane" on it at least once. I will always, always, always consider this one of the most important human efforts in the story of life.
2. Islands' "Return To The Sea." I challenge you to turn the volume up all the way during "Volcanoes" and not completely lose your shit. If Neutral Milk Hotel's "Aeroplane" is the peanut butter sandwich of my library, then this is the perfectly-refrigerated, dew-on-the-aluminum, classic red can of Coca-Cola. You can try to never drink it, but you know, you know deep deep down, that it's inescapable. If you're wondering, yes, I am on a strong painkiller right now and it's awesome.
3. Postal Service's "Give Up." Easy victory, here. I first heard this back in my nerd-punk rock phase--hence the glasses that I still wear--but even then I loved this music right the fuck away. Ben Gibbard could write songs solely about how Mark Hamby is correct about politics and I would still be right there next to the speakers listening and bopping my head.
4. Phish's "Story of the Ghost." Uuuughhhh. It has flaws, but, oh, fuck the flaws. "Brian and Robert" rivals the toasted marshmallow Jelly Belly jelly bean. Chris would probably put "Picture of Nectar" as the best Phish album. But he and I represent the North and South Poles on the planet of Phish. Go to his pole if you wish to hang out with Santa and polar bears--I mean it is fuckin' sweet. But come to my pole if you desire unlivable climates, unearthly landscapes, constant night, and unfathomable calm.
5. Stars of the Lid's "And Their Refinement Of The Decline." This music creates a sonic environment that more-or-less duplicates the labyrinth where you go when you die/where you dwelt before you were born. I have vivid memories of my infancy, and this music puts me right back there instantly, and it keeps me there like a cool blanket and a dark window. Listen to this. LISTEN TO THIS.
6. Guster's "Lost and Gone Forever." A fitting album title, since Guster sucks now. Well, that's a harsh judgment actually, because their songs are still unoffensive, but they don't go straight through me like "What You Wish For" did the first time I heard it. I love to remember that first time, because it felt like a song I had forgotten I knew. Thank you John Woodford for sticking it into my kitchen CD player and turning the volume up too much. On a final note, this album was the soundtrack to a good summer I once had.
7. The Strokes' "Is This It." Let me admit right away that I was really late jumping on this bandwagon. Like... years and years late. But man I'm so glad I was late. I'm so glad I can have this album all to myself, now. The Strokes takes a catchy tune and does all the things to it I like to think I would have done myself. I hate when bands hit a great verse but then fuck up the chorus, or vice versa. Strokes never ever does that on this album. When I need a steady, even rock album that often hits near sublime moments of fuzz in my ears, this is whom I depend on.
8. Cloud Cult's "The Meaning of 8." Written shortly after the death of his 8-year-old son, this album resonates like the aural translation of Raymond Carver's "A Small, Good Thing." Plus it's also super-fucking catchy. If you've read that Carver story, that should be all I need to say to make you go hunting for this album immediately. If you haven't read this story, then here, I present the hugely awesome "A Small Good Thing." You're so, so, so welcome, dear reader. Now if you listen to this album without crying, you know you don't have a soul.
9. Coldplay's "Parachutes." Scrumptious. I hope when the music world is looking back on the 2000s, they don't overlook beautiful masterpieces like Coldplay's first outing. When I think about tragic downfalls as a result of becoming popular, this is the second band that comes to mind. God this album has so many favorites. "Yellow," "Shiver," "Trouble," and so on. The whole damn thing.
10. Weezer's "The Blue Album." Speaking of which, this is the *first* band that comes to mind when I think about pop music tragedies. There's nothing I can say about this album that hasn't been said. But I'll try: It's summer in a box, it's a total knock-out, and "Only In Dreams" remains one of the best album-closers in rock music.
11. The Weakerthans' "Reconstruction Site." Katelyn Anderson, you beautiful son of a bitch, thank you thank you for this CD. I remember I put it on, feeling obliged to at least give it one listen-through since you recommended it and I trusted you, and just started vacuuming my house per my dad's orders. That was the greatest vacuuming experience of my whole life. By the time it gets to "Time's Arrow" (my favorite track), I'm so lost in the singer's world I don't want to go back to mine. Their follow-up, Reunion Tour, was terrible, but Left & Leaving was almost as valiant as Reconstruction Site, and that's saying something.
12. Pedro the Lion's "It's Hard To Find A Friend." I'll leave this one short: When my parents found out I smoked pot and practically broke down right there in front of me, this was the first music I turned to, for some reason (specifically, the track "Bells"). Weeks later, somewhere deep in the Caribbean, I watched a sun set completely, from can't look directly at it up in the sky to scarlet on the horizon to hey where'd it go, while listening to this album on loop. Sadcore's greatest achievement.
13. Of Montreal's "The Sunlandic Twins." Why don't critics recognize how fucking amazing this album is?! NO other band sounds like this, provides the crystal-clear, dance-you-the-fuck-away beats that "So Begins Our Alabee" and "Party's Crashing Us" so swiftly and succinctly does. It probably helps to watch the band perform these masterpieces in person, high, at Lollapalooza, with your good friends nearby losing their minds along with you. If parties played this music more often, then I would actually dance. Am I wrong for only dancing to music I enjoy?
14. Of Montreal's "Skeletal Lamping." Yes, they get two. Yes, this album isn't even out yet. I've had this playing over and over in my iPod for like two weeks now and instead of getting tired of it, I feel like I'm becoming one with it. If you guys are anti-pirates or whatever, then let me assure you, your wait is totally worthwhile. PLEASE see this band live. Few bands provide the understated talent and overstated spectacle of Of Montreal.
15. The Notwist's "Neon Golden." Not to be confused with "Neon Bible," the somewhat monotonous but still rather awesome Arcade Fire church-rock. This is The Notwist's weird little album that is rather unlike most of their other stuff. It hit me in much the same way Postal Service's "Give Up" did, even though I have to admit they're pretty different. Jon Natvig just put their noises in my ears one day in the fishbowl at the back of the SSIMC, and I forgot I hadn't ever heard them before because it took me like three songs to remember to stop listening and demand that the album be transferred to my thumb drive. If you haven't entreated yourself to "Pick Up The Phone," "One With The Freaks," or "Pilot" yet, well, do.
16. Now It's Overhead's "Now It's Overhead." The only Omaha band that will make it onto this list. Now It's Overhead's immediately lovable album opener, "Blackout Curtain," was indirectly introduced to me by Ryan's childhood crush. I am haunted by many songs on this album. Admittedly, it hits a lowpoint towards the middle of the album, but then picks up again. "Skeleton On Display" is a haunting groove that anchors me to bittersweet memories I wish I could forget and relive at the same time. Sorry if I'm getting sentimental, now. This painkiller was some heavy shit. I should go to bed soon, but I won't, because lord knows sleeplessness produces the best wandyteeth posts.
17. Moot's "Point Pointer Outer." I know, I know, it's my own album. But it's not hubris that keeps me coming back. It's... this sturdy knowledge that I really poured my entire heart and soul into every lyric and hook on this album. I'm not tooting my own horn (bah-dump-tshhh). Sometimes in life you really fucking TRY hard to do something right, and this is the type of thing that comes out of it. In this instance, it's this audible expression of self. Lyrics I wrote before I had my break with the world still resonate, because I let my heart wield my brain. I welcome you to get dangerously close to me by listening to this album with a scathing ear.
18. Mates of State's "Team Boo." Go to iTunes and read the review I wrote for this as Mr. Burger. 11 out of 11 users found it helpful. ;-)
19. Yann Tiersen's "Amelie." Wonky bombast hardly begins to describe how perfect this soundtrack is. I can hum my way from the beginning to the end completely from memory. Also, see the goddamn movie if you haven't yet for some reason. It's France at its best.
20. Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin's "Broom." WOO-HOO!! Still the record-holder for consecutive listens all the way through. One night (and morning) in the architecture school, I worked on a hideous paper sculpture with this thing in my ears and listened to each song 14 times. Do you understand me? That's a lot of times. The dudes in this band are not much older than I am, and they are already signed to Polyvinyl and kicking ass. Well, okay, except that "Pershing" is a pile of shit. But whatever. As long as "I Am Warm & Powerful" still exists, I love this band.
21. Pinback's "Anything." I couldn't narrow it down to an album. Rob Crow is so consistent. ANY album is worth a hundred listens. More bands should aim to be like Pinback. Enough said.
22. Tally Hall's "Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum." Tally Hall are the new Beatles. I stand by that statement in full confidence, having seen them live and seen what a fucking handful of virtuosos they already are. Keep your ear out for these guys. They are going to get famous. They have to. They are too good not to. They're also funny. This is my favorite band of 2008, hands down, and the best live show I've seen since Of Montreal.
23. Dispatch's "Bang Bang." Of course.
23. Wilco's "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot." One of the greatest albums ever written. Put it in. Don't stop listening to it until it's done. And you'll understand. It's staggering genius. The band's most important work. Choppy sentences. Oogly boogly. Drugs. But I don't mean to undercut just how smooth and watery this record is; you don't play it, it plays you. "Jesus, etc." is a good song on its own, but in the context of "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" it's a fucking door to nirvana.
24. Fleet Foxes' "Fleet Foxes." Just a couple of months ago, iTunes wouldn't turn up results for Fleet Foxes. I had to search deep within, like, Spanish-speaking websites to pirate their albums. Oh the saintly sweet harmonies they proffer. Oh my god. I get shivers every time that "White Winter Hymnal" suddenly explodes after the opening verse.
25. Annuals' "Be He Me." Why don't more people talk about this? Why? This album was so cool. "Carry Around" remains one of the most played songs in my library, and I can't imagine ever getting sick of it. I remember my suitemate listened to this band a lot more than I did at first, though he was playing it off my shared iTunes folder freshman year; I pretended like I already knew Annuals really well because I wanted to seem cool to him, and then the summer after that I actually did get really into them. Annuals are way better than their scene-stealing genre-brethren Arcade Fire and Animal Collective, but whatever, they're all worth hearing. Peace.
26. Gorillaz's "Demon Days." I don't draw a line between their two albums, "Demon Days" and "Gorillaz," because they're so equal in caliber. But my heart puts Demon Days first in order of, well, you always remember the first album you heard high. My favorite song, however, is "Slow Country," which makes my brain sizzle.
27. Incubus' "Morning View." The third band I think of when I think about tragic musical downfalls. Brandon Boyd was so fuckin hot once upon a time, and he totally deserved that reputation after this FLAWLESS VICTORY. "Aqueous Transmission." "Echoes." We've all heard this album. We've all secretly hated it for its immense middle school popularity. But we keep it close, anyway. I miss Incubus.
28. The Shins' "Chutes Too Narrow." Indie rock blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah James Mercer blah blah blah blah blah "Saint Simon" is so fucking great blah blah blah blah blah. The Shins did not get inside my heart right away. It took hearing this album through the wall at my brother's old house, not really being able to hear James' somewhat annoying voice clearly, not really knowing it was The Shins, for me to grasp how cool their ditties are. I am forever a fan. Fuck you guys who think The Shins are overrated. Anyone who's been to Pitchfork knows that they are far from overrated in most circles. They are despised. They are *called* overrated. But I have yet to come face-to-face with these over-ratings, anywhere. The Shins are fantastic. Let them rock their rock. Live your life in peace you hate-monger.
29. Iron & Wine's "Our Endless Numbered Days." This is a personal choice, and I have all but given up on trying to recommend Sam Beam to folks. Sure, "Shepherd's Dog" is instantly likable, but it's on those first two outings that he really gets... i don't know... intimate. You have to be in the right state of mind or lighting condition or something to suddenly buckle under the weight of his intent. If "Aeroplane" is the peanut butter sandwich, and "Return to the Sea" is the ice-cold Coke, then this is the sky way overhead and deep inside you watching you eat and drink and think.
And I think that's about it. Once again, these are the albums I can fall back on always, like my own personal oldies station. They aren't necessarily my favorites. I know that's what it sounds like, reading some of what I said, cause I sort of get caught up in how affectionate I am for underappreciated bands like The Weakerthans and Tally Hall. But please understand me. I, too, have a permanent place in my brain for Radiohead and A Tribe Called Quest and all those greats you guys are probably mad at me for omitting, but their place is not my fall-back place. I can't explain. I'm sorry. I know they don't taste like apples. We eat what we like.
<3 Towel <3
Look up "what causes magnetism?"
You'll find modern physicists saying: "That's a dumb question. We don't know, but that's a dumb question."
You'll find thousands of conspiracy theorists who--like Copernicans back in the day, Aristotelians back in the day before that, and Pythagoreans back in the day before that day--hate mainstream scientists for the incestuous zombies that they are.
You'll find genii the world round--even Asians--who've tried publishing papers remodeling all of physics around a universal theory of magnetism, even going so far as to abandon the idea that gravity is its own force in favor of the idea that magnetism can account for it.
Me, I like these theories, and have after much grappling come to support them... whatever "support" means, since I'm still just sort of doing my day to day most the time.
The thing is, I think lots of things feel rightly compared to magnetism:
-- When I draw out a color spectrum, ROYGBIV, neatly gradiated, the colors just sort of look right together, like correctly-laid-out magnets that would "repel" being in any other orientation.
-- When I listen to three part harmonies in music, the notes just stick together by themselves, creating a beautiful sandwich my ears love gobbling.
-- When my eyes lock on an object in my field of view that moments before was blurry and double-visioned out of focus, the quick focusing feels rightly described as magnetic. This is also the exact same mechanism that allows me to do Magic Eye pictures, unlike many people whom I proudly scoff at. (I also do this with any side-by-side objects that are roughly identical to make a third, uniquely 3D phantom object in the middle. But I have yet to meet anyone else who does this; am I the only one?)
-- When the constant needs of the nerve endings in my skin, my muscles, my hungry belly, my eyes, the needs that, for instance, never allow me me to be permanently comfortable with how I'm sitting or lying or standing, all sort of coincide in my head in an all-over-all-at-once-awareness and, like a bunch of magnets stuck together to form one big relatively-strong magnet, end up as a single representation in my head, a single polyphonic chord in my one-track mind that hears all of my desires and none of them.
-- When I squeeze up all closity close close to my girlfriend. Close is better than far. Same goes for my dogs, except with relatively little pelvic thrusting.
-- Gravity = Magnetism. (Convince me otherwise, totally convince me, leave no stone unturned, and I *will* let you shart into my outstretched eyelids.)
Affectionately yours,
Towel