freeallangels

I recently started a new blog called About that Moment, located at lookingforthatmoment.blogspot.com.

A popular quote once said that art is defined not by what it is per se, but what it means to people the moment it is received.

In my blog, I touch upon works of art (films, songs, paintings, books, whatnot) that I consider beautiful, not by discussing what they are, but rather the thoughts and feelings I have the moment I receive them.

Union Square yawns,
its mighty expanse inviting
the listless and spent
to sit and contemplate.

Seventeen tables,
sixty-eight chairs,
twelve people --
some talk; most pretend to listen.

As the stores sport barred doors
and empty cable cars pass,
a man in a gray suit traverses
the city's hollow heart.

He pulls a metal chair,
adding to those working sentry
to the silent space
we create and maintain.


(7 April 2010)

2000-2009:  Music in Review / Glenn’s 100 favorite songs of the decade

For the past nine years, I have come up with year-end top 20 lists.  To culminate the decade, I attempted, in vain, to complete a top 150 list of my favorite songs of the decade.  I hit an impasse in the #40s onwards – how do I differentiate songs numbered 40 and 41, and 64 and 65 anyway? As it was virtually impossible to rank the songs beyond the 20s and 30s, I just decided to do most of this randomly, stream-of-consciousness-style.  There is, however, a clear cut top ten.

The top ten.  Hands down, my favorite song of the decade is Svefn-G-Englar (Sigur Ros).  This song almost defies description.  For the unacquainted, Sigur Ros’s vocalist has an impossibly high falsetto and the guitarist bows his electric guitar.  The song itself is a slow-burning ten minute journey through Icelandic fjords.  The most played song on my iTunes is Ready for the Floor (Hot Chip).  It is unbelievably catchy, and it showcases how Hot Chip has mastered the mid-tempo indie dance song.  Watch out for that sublime key change after they sing “you’re my number one guy.”  Maps (Yeah Yeah Yeahs): what else can I say about this song?  Absolutely poignant, especially coming from the usually-truculent Karen O.  Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl (Broken Social Scene):  These guys are my favorite indie band of the decade; their versatility trumps other bands.  “Anthems,” specifically, is the hypnotizing chant of a teenager dreaming of a lover.  Meanwhile, A Movie Script Ending (Death Cab for Cutie) features my favorite music video of the decade, which takes “heartbreaking” to a different level.  In contrast, You’re so Clever (Orange Peels) is the catchiest song of the past ten years.  I don’t know anything else about the band, but this is an indie-pop masterpiece.  Speaking of masterpieces, Arcade Fire crafted the best album of the decade, “Funeral.”  My favorite track, Neighborhood #1 is an epic piano-driven song about two lovers meeting up in the middle of an empty, snow-covered town.  Rounding out the top ten is Say Something (Haven), which is what Coldplay could sound like if they tried harder; Shining Light (Ash), which embodies “glorious rock anthem,” and Such Great Heights (Postal Service), that ubiquitous electro-pop love song.  Incidentally, in several air travels these past few years, I have always listened to “Such Great Heights” while staring at the cloudy expanse.  I don’t know why I do it, but it feels great and nostalgic.

Shake that tail feather.  I’m usually not a big fan of dance music, but the best dance songs of the 2000s have made me a believer.  Pitchfork called Heartbeat (Annie) the perfect pop song.  I don’t disagree at all.  D.A.N.C.E. (Justice) is more dance-floor greatness, and especially now that Michael Jackson’s gone, this tribute is a fitting send-off to the great club in the sky.  Digital Love (Daft Punk) has the best electric guitar solo in any dance song.  Frontier Psychiatrist (The Avalanches) is a potpourri of beats, sound-bytes, and samples all thrown together hilariously.  No Ordinary Morning (Chicane) is good enough to enamor even non-trance listeners.  House of Jealous Lovers (The Rapture) is a pure mix of cowbell, dance beats, and electric guitar, while Making Love in the Sunshine (Maxi Geil and Playcolt) does the same, albeit through a charming duet.  It’s For You (Outhud) perfectly combines Annie-like vocals, a quirky telephone, and a down-and-dirty bass outro.  And Robyn – yes, “Show Me Love” Robyn, completely reinvented herself and gave us both With Every Heartbeat and Konichiwa Bitches from her no-fillers self-titled release.  All My Friends (LCD Soundsystem) is the fitting soundtrack to the inevitable crash after a night of hard partying.

Oh, Canada.  A small group of creative Canadian bands further designed the decade.  Stars are a revelation, making perfect musical theatre.  From their several memorable songs, Elevator Love Letter, Your Ex-Lover is Dead, Calendar Girl, and Bitches in Tokyo are some of my favorites.  The aforementioned versatile Broken Social Scene also scored other knock-outs apart from “Anthems”: Almost Crimes, Ibi Dreams of Pavement (Another Day), Lover’s Spit (a perfect aping of Jeff Buckley), and 7/4 (Shoreline) are just a few.  Combat Baby (Metric) features Emily Haines, one of my favorite vocalists, who sounds half-vulnerable and half-snarling in this song.  She gets me every time she sings “bye-bye, bye-bye baby.”  And finally, Sing Me Spanish Techno (The New Pornographers) finds the indie super-group clicking on all cylinders.

Keeping it simple.  The decade also had a few stripped-down songs for those who want stuff relatively straightforward, unobtrusive, and simple.  These make great vehicles for talented lyricists.  Among these are Bright Eyes, whose I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning album has been on repeat in my player since 2005.  A few favorites from Bright Eyes (actually, Conor Oberst) are Land Locked Blues, We Are Nowhere and It’s Now, Lover I Don’t Have to Love and No Lies, Just Love.  Anyone who has watched Closer will have The Blower’s Daughter (Damien Rice) stuck in his head, along with Rice’s incessant “I can’t take my eyes off you.”  Mad World (Gary Jules) from the Donnie Darko soundtrack turns the classic Tears for Fears song into a piano ballad.  Somebody is Waiting for Me (Juliana Hatfield) was my personal anthem as a heartbroken high school boy in the early part of this decade.  Ghost (Howie Day) is spare and haunting.  No Children (Mountain Goats) is pure vitriol sung by couple married for too long, although it ends with sweet resignation to their commitment.  Speaking of keeping it simple Hide and Seek (Imogen Heap) is just vocals, a vocoder, and a lot of heartbreak.  Love Will Come Through (Travis) is Travis doing what Travis does best.

Killer lyrics.  A few lines better heard than read: “And the truth is, I miss you” (Warning Sign – Coldplay); “But you could distinguish Miles from Coltrane” (Comfortable – John Mayer);  “At every occasion, I’ll be waiting for a funeral” (Funeral – Band of Horses).  Meanwhile, Colin Meloy of The Decemberists has been the best lyricist of the past few years, writing epic folk songs with pirates, ghosts, and thieves.  Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect is sweet, stripped down folk rock with wonderfully pretentious lyrics.   The entire Crane Wife album, featuring The Crane Wife 3, The Crane Wife 1 and 2, and O, Valencia!, among others, is a lyrical journey through time and tide.  (Close runner-up lyricists are Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes, as previously mentioned, and John Mayer, whose Clarity and Gravity are in my top 100.)  And emo-ness be damned, but Existentialism on Prom Night (Straylight Run) is that song high-school boys write in post-soiree love notes.

Welcome back, Garage Rock.   One of the biggest stories of the early 2000s is the revival of garage rock and the invasion of the “the” bands.  The Strokes were often called the band that saved rock and roll.  They are simply topnotch in Last Nite, Barely Legal, and Under Control.  The Libertines, their British counterparts, made two great LPs amidst the turmoil of drugs and thievery; Time for Heroes is garage rock with a tinge of nostalgic melancholia.  Seven Nation Army (The White Stripes) features a plodding guitar-cum-bass line that remains lodged in our collective memories.  And Sleeping Aides and Razorblades (The Exploding Hearts) is tuneful garage-punk that hints at even greater things, had most of the band not met tragic deaths.  Hate to Say I Told You So (The Hives) sees the world’s best-dressed band strut its stuff.  A Certain Romance (Arctic Monkeys) shows off the young band’s strengths: after a slew of guitars comes an observation piece in the Kinks/Blur tradition (“there’s only music so that there’s new ringtones”).  The Rat (The Walkmen), meanwhile, is blazing-fast catharsis, in the same vein as Nothing Ever Happened (Deerhunter) – although I may be stretching it by classifying this song under the “garage” heading.

Indie pop/twee. Lloyd, I’m Ready to be Heartbroken (Camera Obscura) is wonderfully dissonant: fast-paced, yet fragile – and a splendid response to the eponymous Lloyd Cole’s song.  The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, one of 2009’s best new bands, follows the Jesus and Mary Chain formula: white noise with a pop core, most especially in Everything With You.  Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse (Of Montreal) is typical Of Montreal: carnivalesque music backs an ode to drug addiction and depression.  What is Happening? (Alphabeat) is Last-Song-Syndrome fodder, and is catchy from the first note onwards.  Summer Lovers (Beats for Beginners) shows breezy pop and how to properly name-drop Julie Christie with impunity.  Pull Shapes (The Pipettes) is the best track of the 60s girl group revivalists; easy on the eyes, and even easier on the ears.  I once whistled Young Folks (Peter Bjorn and John) and the other six people with me whistled the song for the entire day.  Old favorites Weezer may not write songs and albums like they used to, but Perfect Situation and Smile can go toe-to-toe with the band’s 90s output.

From the airwaves.  The radio has also delivered a few staples to my playlist.   Stolen and Hands Down (Dashboard Confessional) finds Chris Carrabba perfecting the post-summer love song.  It’s impossible not to move along with American Boy (Estelle)’s fuzzy beat.  Absolutely Zero (Jason Mraz) is stunningly mature.  Mercy (Duffy) showcases our generation’s Dusty Springfield.  And I have never tired of Bleeding Love (Leona Lewis), LDN (Lily Allen), and Big Girls Don’t Cry (Fergie).  And of course, Cry Me A River (Justin Timberlake) is the best pop song of our era, and Mr. Brightside (The Killers), our generation’s sing along.

Number ones: For the past nine years, I have come up with year-end lists, and the following were the number one songs: 2000 – Svefn-G-Englar; 2001 – Shining Light; 2002 – Pounding (Doves); 2003 – Sleeping Aides and Razorblades; 2004 – Dry Your Eyes (The Streets); 2005 – Felt Tip (Love is All); 2006 – Pull Shapes; 2007 – Love Love Love Love Love (As Tall as Lions); 2008 – I Will Possess Your Heart (Death Cab for Cutie).  Invariably though, I end up regretting my number one song choice, except obviously, for the year 2000.

Classic  … Finally, a few instant classics to round-off the list.  Float On (Modest Mouse);  Hope There’s Someone (Antony and the Johnsons);  as a decade-end bonus, my favorite band, Blur, returned in 2009 – although Battery in Your Leg would have been a good swansong;  Kissing the Lipless and New Slang (The Shins) – the latter of which, Garden State claimed to change peoples’ lives; and Do You Realize (The Flaming Lips) from the sublime concept album Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots.  Four acts also came up with excellent albums in the mp3 age: 1) Radiohead’s Kid A and In Rainbows (How to Disappear Completely and All I Need); 2) Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, Radio Cure); 3) Panda Bear’s Person Pitch (Bros); and 4) hands down, the best act, album and song of 2009 – Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavillion, and My Girls.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten a few songs here and there – just right now, I realized I forgot to put anything by JJ72, Vampire Weekend, or Interpol – but as it is, this stands as my decade-end list.

Ondoy and the violent dialectic of heroism

Three days ago, I received an e-mail from one fellow law student, bemoaning the continuation of classes notwithstanding the torrential floods that hit Manila a few days before.  In his words, he branded those who sought to push through with classes as having 1cexceptionally screwed up priorities. 1d  The day after, another law student sent an e-mail, declaring that it is better to carry relief goods than read books, because we are 1cmen for others 1d and not 1cmen for books. 1d

No question, I admire the valor of these two individuals.  They also walk the talk, having volunteered with relief operations for the entire week.  Yet, their statements have also exposed the violent discourses attending the greater historical narrative of heroism pervading the Philippines.

First, there is something inherently violent with the dialectic brought about by the heroism narrative.  This is exposed by juxtaposing  the hero-as-self and  the hero-with-regard-to.  The former, hero-as-self, is the classical ascription of heroic status post-mortem, where the entire aura of the person is colored with heroic status.  While this is also undoubtedly problematic, mostly because this branding silences divergent emanations of the self and simply focuses only on the 1cheroic, 1d the prevailing 1chero-with-regard-to 1d notion of heroism is even more violent.

The present heroism narrative ( 1chero-with-regard-to 1d) places the hero relationally: we are heroes to the needy, heroes to the helpless, heroes to the downtrodden.  Specifically, heroism is manifested in the specific act of going out of one 19s way to assist with relief operations.  Now, the act in itself is unproblematic 13 when done with full volition.  But in the end, this concept of heroism creates an artificial moral compulsion because it is inherently an exclusionary discourse.  Since the hero is the student who decides to help with relief operations, it carves a 1cheroic space 1d that excludes the non-hero: the one who decides to do anything else.  And in fact, this is where heroism is seemingly quantified: the one who did relief operations for five days stayed in this temporally fleeting heroic space longer, and therefore is 1cmore of a hero. 1d

The fault of this brand of heroism is that it silences alternatives, and carves out one heroic path to be followed, lest one become unheroic.  There is a violent binary created: heroes on the one side, everyone else on the other.  Shades of gray are silenced, as people are placed on one side or the other.  In the extreme, those who celebrate lavishly or exploit the situation by placing their faces on relief goods are located on one side of the binary (possibly, rightfully so), but they are also lumped together with those who stay at home and read a book, watch television, or eat a hearty meal 13 all these, 1cunheroic. 1d

This is even exacerbated when the socially-tagged heroes ascribe concepts of heroism upon themselves.  In response to the second e-mail I received, that person sent me the parable of the Good Samaritan from the Bible.  By sending this, further analogous binaries are created: the Good Samaritan on the one hand, and the Pharisees and Sadducees on the other.  This blindly reinforces the 1chero-with-regard-to 1d narrative by artificially flattening out historical space, and feigning continuity of this discourse.  When in fact, the Good Samaritan narrative was a parable told more in reaction to xenophobia against Samaritans in that day and age, it is historically transported to reinforce Ondoy heroism: relief volunteers are Good Samaritans, those who desire to study are Pharisees.

Second, the narrative of heroism is further colored by nationally-assumed notions of the heroic simpleton.  This is exhibited in another e-mail I received after I questioned the first two e-mails in a public group.  The e-mail sender said that now is not the time to argue about 1cwhat is good, 1d now is the time to volunteer in relief operations because a lot of people are still dying.  Two things jump out from this e-mail: one, she subscribes to the exclusionary discourse of the heroic narrative 13 time spent e-mailing could have been used to carry sacks of rice.  Second, she creates a false presumption that to sit back and think is unheroic; that to discuss the good when one could physically be there is unheroic; and that one should suspend cognitive faculties and rational debate in a 1ctime for heroes. 1d  Clearly, this thinking is historically rooted 13 and precisely, one needs to expose historical rootedness, positionalities, and socially-buried assumptions that color discourses.  This stems from the aversion to the Filipino intelligentsia in the Spanish era: where the passionate simpleton of Andres Bonifacio (although historically inaccurate) is preferred to a propagandist like Graciano Lopez-Jaena.  In fact, even Jose Rizal only completed his heroic act by being physically purged, as society does not ascribe the mere writing of a book with heroism.  In the same way, the current mentality is that every moment not spent hauling rice sacks or delivering relief goods is time spent being unheroic, and that to achieve heroism, faculties of intelligence must be suppressed because theoretical discourse pales in front of physical labor.

To conclude, there is nothing wrong with helping out with relief operations 13 in fact, it is admirable.  What is disturbing is the pervading dialectic that goes with it, and the historically unrooted discourse that follows.  To solve this, one need not stop doing charity work.  That is unreasonable.  Instead, one must examine positionalities, assumptions, and historicities behind the 1chero talk 1d and expose what it is, and what it is not.  As a suggestion, a friend of mine sent a similar e-mail, where she shared stories of relief work in Muntinlupa.  The sharing of the narrative was without binaries or comparisons of 1cthe heroic 1d and the 1cunheroic 1d 13 instead, what followed was an invitation to help, not out of castigation or compulsion, but out of awe.

I was originally supposed to post this two weeks ago, after the Eraserheads concert.

First...  the runners-up:

From Ultraelectromagneticpop!, there's Easy Ka Lang, the jangly predecessor of "Cool Ka Lang," and Ligaya, which has a special place for every college student who's done thesis work.  From Circus, Hey Jay does the conga, and bonus track Wating is campy in a good way (with movie dialogue interspersed in the verses).  Cutterpillow, often considered the band's best work, has Huwag Mo Nang Itanong, Walang Nagbago, and Poorman's Grave, all well-written pop-rock classics.  Sticker Happy's Kaliwete, Hard to Believe, and the underrated Futuristic, with its slowed-down outro, all barely missed the top 20.  Dahan Dahan, Peace it Together (a spliced-up frankensong 7-minutes song), and Maselang Bahaghari both represent Natin99 well.  Finally, from the largely-ignored Carbonsteroxide, Marcus Adoro's Hula is a fun slow-burning rock song.

20. Hula (Carbonstereoxide) - The band does its best Built To Spill impression: sublime bass-playing, soft-loud dynamics, and a sped-up bridge.

19. Fill Her (Cutterpillow) - The title's actually wordplay on "filler" -- which this song was supposed to be.  It turned out to be one of the most beautiful quiet Eraserheads ballads.

18. Ang Huling El Bimbo (Cutterpillow) - The Eraserheads' magnum opus, and their most well-known song.  I'm guessing over-familiarity can lead to a slightly lower rank?  Not my fault.

17. Julie Tearjerky (Aloha Milkyway) - A top notch lo-fi sounding pop-rock song which got massive airplay in an L.A. indie rock station.

16. Tamagotchi Baby (Aloha Milkyway) - ...and a made-for-Asia single that got tons of MTV airplay. (With good cause.  "Tamagotchi Baby" is one of their catchiest later songs.)

15. Para sa Masa (Sticker Happy) - This tender piano ode to the masses is actually a bitingly sarcastic lunge at the music-listening public that abandoned them during Fruitcake.

14. Waiting for the Bus (Cutterpillow) - Good old rock-and-roll, replete with nonsensical lyrics that heighten the song's already-brimming charm.

13. Ha Ha Ha (Sticker Happy) - Every line of every verse begins with the syllable "Ha."  A well-written back-to-basics song in their "experimental" album.

12. Shirley (Ultraelectromagneticpop!) - This was never released as a single, but it was one of the tracks from the first album that captured the fans' hearts.  The song name-drops chronicles a mundane college love story gone sour, then sweet again.

11. Minsan (Circus) - The perfect acoustic goodbye-to-you-but-memories-will-stay song, up there with "Paglisan."  The last line's a heartbreaker.

10. Spoliarium (Sticker Happy) - A song about about feeling, and being lost in the world, which just begs for lighters to be raised in the air.

09. Alapaap (Circus) - In many ways, the first sophisticated Eraserheads pop-rock single. All the elements are here: the slow, brooding intro, the breakneck finish, the substance abuse double-entendres.

08. Tama Ka (Natin99) - With a kundiman-type opening and doo-doo-doos, this song proved that the 'heads can still write crowd-pleasers at the tailend of their band-life.

07. Pop Machine (Natin99) - Where all the band's electronic experimentation hit its creative peak.  "Pop Machine" hits a nice groove, and accents it with well-sung falsettos from Ely Buendia.  Pretty damn danceable too.

06. Shake Yer Head (Ultraelectromagneticpop!) - Best summed-up the Eraserheads' carefree disposition and everyman image early on in their career.  A folky sing-along that ups the mood in any gloomy gathering.

05. Sembreak (Circus) - The evolution of "Ligaya" -- a love song written for the most mundane moments, and a reminder that bathroom basketball and being carless are both A-OK.

04. Torpedo (Cutterpillow) - Soft-loud, slow-fast dynamics, about a situation everyone has found him or herself in -- the "torpe" moment.  I love how the doot-doot-doot outro just shrugs off any care for the world.

03. Kailan (Circus) - A love song whose persona is languishing in jail.  I guess all that free time has led him to perfecting transplanting feelings into imagery.  The best 'heads ballad.

02. Trip to Jerusalem (Fruitcake) - FINALLY!  A song from the much-derided Christmas album.  This one just rocks your socks off, and it also contains the moment that I remember best when I think of any E-heads song: that last chorus where the rhythm guitars and bass just drop out and all that remain are Raimund's drums, some guitar-noodling care of Marcus, and Ely's voice.

01. Lightyears (Fruitcake) - I've always heralded this song's merits, and for good reason.  This is the Eraserheads at the creative peak -- writing this gorgeous song about yearning and distance, replete with orchestraic flourishes and celestial imagery.  And yes, because my top two songs are both from "Fruitcake," I also readily claim and defend the Fruitcake album.  I'd even say it's the band's best album, with Natin99 closely behind.

Yet another list for those who want to compare notes or get ideas for songs to download.

1. China Crisis - "Black Man Ray" (1985) : I first heard this song inside my school service back when I was 14 years old, and it immediately became one of my favorite songs.  This songs just screams EIGHTIES, with its twinkling piano, plucked guitars, and tender ode to Ray Charles.  Yes, it's cheesy, but its utter sincerity keeps it from devolving into camp.

2. The Chameleons - "Swamp Thing" (1986) : The song begins with a minute-long build-up towards an explosive chorus.  Throughout, it feels claustrophobic, haunting, and sinister, especially with the mysterious "the storm comes, or is it just another shower?" line.  Oh the things bands get away with in the eighties.

3. The Cure - "Pictures of You" (1989) : A seven-and-a-half minute trudge through the pains of love gone by.  The driving beat placed side-by-side with constant imagery of snow, the wind, and angels evokes the evanescence of fading memories and grayed pictures.

4. New Order - "Bizarre Love Triangle" (1986) : Not the truncated single version, but the dance-floor-ready seven minute album track that matches synths and vocoders to perfection.

5. Ultravox - "Vienna" (1980) : Released in 1980, "Vienna" predates many of its New Romantic contemporaries.  Yet, none of them managed to top the anthemic "this means nothing to me! / Oh, Vienna!"

6. The Stone Roses - "I Wanna Be Adored" (1989) : The benchmark of the late-80's Manchester movement, and a memory that once upon a time, The Stone Roses were the biggest band in the world.  After a slow build-up, Ian Brown exclaims the title line like he means and deserves it.

7. Sonic Youth - "Teenage Riot" (1988) : The best song from the consensus best album of the 1980's, Daydream Nation, "Teenage Riot" is actually two songs rolled into one epic track: the first part involves atmospheric guitar noodling, and the second part sports an explosion of indie punk.

8. Joy Division - "Atmosphere" (1980) : One of the last singles released before vocalist Ian Curtis hanged himself, this song is the perfect soundtrack to anything involving loss -- heartbreak, abandonment, death.

9. The Jesus and Mary Chain - "Just Like Honey" (1985) : The song begins with thundering drums, eases into feedback, and goes straight for the jugular.  Used to perfection in the last scene of Lost in Translation.

10. Dexy's Midnight Runners - "Come on Eileen" (1982) : Holy redneck!  This fiddles-and-banjos song is not a send-up at all.  It reaches perfection as it slows down to a crawl before reprising its love-struck chorus.

11. The Pixies - "Debaser" : The band that birthed Nirvana and the song that best defined their sound.
12. Prefab Sprout - "When Love Breaks Down" : This was screaming to be featured in a Molly Ringwald prom scene.
13. Guns N' Roses - "Patience" : Lighters in the air.
14. R.E.M. - "Radio Free Europe" :  Nobody understands what Michael Stripe is saying, and that makes this song all the more an indie cornerstone.
15. John Lennon - "(Just Like) Starting Over" : John emulated Elvis and Roy Orbison just a few months before he was shot to death.

16. Sugarcubes - "Birthday" : Bjork's best vocals and a wordless chrous designed to showcase her vocal chops.
17. 'Til Tuesday - "Voices Carry" : One of my favorite singer-songwriters (Aimee Mann) and one of my favorite music videos ever (emo girl from the audience sings in the middle of a theatre performance).
18. A-Ha - "Take On Me" : Another classic video and a staple of any new wave compilation.
19. U2 - "Bad" : Breaking away from U2's trademark anthemic sound, "Bad" is charming in its understatedness.
20. Violent Femmes - "Kiss Off" : I am still amazed how this band managed to do punk with acoustic guitars.


This list could be longer, but let's stop at 20 for now. =)

Here's the ninth installment of my annual year-end list of favorite songs.  These are the songs I've listened to the most, or were simply those that floored me upon first listen.

For those wondering where I get my music, it's a combination of word of mouth, Pitchfork, allmusic, Tiny Mix Tapes, last.fm, Fluxblog, Metacritic, YouTube, 105.9 FM, 88.3 FM, and just random discoveries.


Glenn's Top 13 Favorite Songs of the Year

1. Death Cab For Cutie - "I Will Possess Your Heart" - The combination of a four-minute long intro, the wonderful music video sequel to A Movie Script Ending, the half-creepy/half-sincere proper song that follows, and the band's gall to release this 8-minute track as a single made it my favorite song of the year.  It's also the perfect opening or closing track to mix CDs I've made this year.

2. Duffy - "Mercy" - The new Dusty Springfield?  This song just exudes the fragrance of 60's style Phil Spector girl-group pop that it's impossible not sing along to the incessant yeah yeah yeahs.

3. Alphabeat - "What is Happening?" - I love it when bands, just like this one from Denmark decide, screw it, we'll write the catchiest tunes ever and we won't care if we don't have indie cred.  And ironically, just by doing that -- writing the catchiest song of the year -- they got cred.

4. Hot Chip - "Ready for the Floor" - One of my favorite indie-dance bands returns with a song that combines an instantly catchy beat with some (surprisingly) melodically-sung vocals.  The band allegedly was emulating Kylie Minogue's sound in penning this one.

5. M83 - "Kim & Jessie/Graveyard Girl" - These two songs are simply inseperable in my 2008 listening experience: tracks 2 and 4 of "Saturdays = Youth" are the perfect could-have-been soundtrack songs for that great lost 80's Molly Ringwald movie.  "Graveyard Girl" even has a wonderfully cheesy poem in the song's instrumental break.

6. Estelle - "American Boy" - Best pop song of the year, in my opinion.  It's the crazy pulsing electro-beat that carries this song -- Estelle's sugary vocals is the sprinkle on top.

7. Deerhunter - "Nothing Ever Happened" - Every year needs a song like this.  Last year, it was Of Montreal's "The Past is a Grotesque Animal" that took the best song to drive to award.  This year, Deerhunter's jangling guitars carry "Nothing Ever Happened" all the way to highway nirvana.

8. Portishead - "We Carry On" - Third is that type of album where everyone has a different favorite song in it.  Personally, "We Carry On" is the album's centerpiece -- where Portishead's dark sound and melancholic vocals perfectly exude both despair and hope at the same time.

9. Vampire Weekend - "The Kids Don't Stand a Chance" - Backlash or no backlash, the entire Vampire Weekend album was one of the best albums of the year.  This album closer sounded a little different from the rest of the songs: a little less playful, although still with an earnest keyboard line and pretty DIY-sounding production.

10. Leona Lewis - "Bleeding Love" - Top notch pop music.  Leona Lewis bleeds heartbreak through every sung line.

11. Fleet Foxes - "White Winter Hymnal" - One of Pitchfork's songs of the year, and with good reason -- WWH's Beach Boys-type harmonies and folk guitars perfectly lull oneself to bliss.

12. TV on the Radio - "The Golden Age" - Prince, meet funky guitars and drum machine.

13. Weezer - "The Greatest Man that Ever Lived" - At the end of the day, I'm still a big Weezer fan.  And hearing them try upwards-10 genres in a 6 minute song is not only entertaining, but also educational.


At the end of next year, I'll come up with the mother of all lists: Glenn's top 100 songs from 2000-2009! :)  Watch out for that!

He wanted to stop believing in Santa Claus at seven years old.  Yet there was still a tinge of doubt in his unsullied mind.

After all, the other little boys in Elm Street got their wishes.  Little Pedro got his remote-controlled McLaren Silver Arrow.  Little Johnny was already showing Little Matthew his new super soaker.  Little Ben finally got the Frisbee he had always wanted.

It was only he who woke up at Christmas dawn with a wish ungranted.

At eight in the morning, he opened the adjacent bedroom door to check if he was just mistaken.  He checked another time, at nine o’clock.

Still nothing.

He sullenly changed out of his pajamas and took out his broken toys.  Those would do for a while.

 

Santa Claus sank into his padded wooden chair, elbows resting on the armrests, exhausted from a whole day’s work.  The burning wood juggled sparks inside the fireplace.

A stack of papers lay at the end table.  Santa Claus enjoyed reading these letters, written in red and green crayons, often crammed under platefuls of cookies.  The letters were all there – Little Johnny’s, Pedro’s, Matthew’s, and several other little boys who believed.

Santa Claus thought about retiring to his room.  Yet, before he rose from his chair, he took out a letter written on torn notebook paper – the same letter he had opened and folded over and over.

He read it again and shook his head one last time.

Not even Santa Claus had the power to bring back the dead.

 

Back in that single bungalow on Elm Street, the little boy opened the door to his father’s bedroom once again.

At one in the afternoon, he had completely stopped believing.



***
This short story was inspired by the song of the same title.