2009 was a strange year. I spent most of it grumbling about a shortage of quality music only to fall completely in love with several amazing albums at the end of the year. This explains (at least partially) why over half the albums on my Top 10 list were new to my site. There just wasn’t enough time to write about them all before the end of the year (full disclosure: there was definitely some laziness mixed in there too).

But good music is good music, regardless of how long it takes me to finally write about it. To make amends for the many albums that slipped through the cracks in 2009 (and in general), I’m introducing a new series called “Better Late Than Never,” or BLTN for short. It will feature music that I’ve been listening to for a while but haven’t yet written about on my site.

The first installment in the series is Union, the fantastic sophomore album by The Boxer Rebellion. It landed at #7 on my Top 10 Albums of 2009 list and (amazingly) grabbed the top spot in the alternative genre at the iTunes store.

I’m surprised by this because, on first listen, Union comes off sounding a little cold and uninviting. If given the proper amount of time, however, this initial bleakness fades to reveal complex layers of beauty and emotion. Union is a definite grower, much like Frightened Rabbit’s Midnight Organ Fight (though the two albums sound nothing alike). If forced to make lazy comparisons, I’d say The Boxer Rebellion sound like a cross between Interpol and Sigur Rós. Mainly because of the shimmering guitars and soaring vocals.

The track post below is the most accessible on Union. It also happens to be my favorite. It’s called “Soviets.” Enjoy!

[mp3] The Boxer Rebellion :: Soviets

Ryan Adams’ Cold Roses has everything a good country album should: weepy ballads (”How Do You Keep Love Alive”), rollicking barn-burners (”Let It Ride” and “If I Am a Stranger”), and bittersweet love songs (”Dance All Night” and “Friends”). The album’s diversity of sound is truly impressive. It got me through both good and bad times.

Quite naturally, I’ve been searching for more albums like Cold Roses. Josh Ritter’s Golden Age of Radio came pretty close. But a few weeks ago I found something even better: Transcendental Blues by Steve Earle. If that name sounds familiar it’s because I’ve mentioned his son Justin Townes Earle a few times before on my site.

Much like Cold Roses, Transcendental Blues features a remarkable range of sound. There are country rockers (”The Galway Girl”) and barroom bawlers (”Lonelier Than This” and “Over Yonder”). But that’s where the similarities end. Transcendental Blues is an entirely different experience. It sounds grittier and more mature than Cold Roses. Earle’s gravelly southern drawl provides the perfect accompaniment to the tales of hardship, disappointment, and regret that abound in his music.

The two tracks posted below anchor the middle of Transcendental Blues. Despite their side-by-side placement on the album, the songs couldn’t be more different. “The Galway Girl” makes you wanna dance while “Lonelier Than This” makes you wanna cry, highlighting Earle’s impressive range.

Transcendental Blues is my first experience with Steve Earle. It certainly won’t be my last; the man has 13 studio albums to his name. Looks like I’ve got some work to do!

[mp3] Steve Earle :: The Galway Girl
[mp3] Steve Earle :: Lonelier Than This

As my previous tweet hinted at, I’m priming Mike Mix 09 for release sometime next week. So check back soon. There’s going to be a lot of good stuff on it!

To hold you over until then, I’ve decided to post a song that I should’ve a long time ago. The track is “Wagon Wheel” by Old Crow Medicine Show. It’s a cover of an old Bob Dylan song called “Rock Me Mama” (though I don’t think Dylan ever officially released it). But that last sentence is irrelevant. Old Crow Medicine Show has made the song theirs.

And what a song it is. I don’t even know where to begin. Perhaps I should start with the obvious; the song makes me happy. It’s everything a summer anthem should be: upbeat, catchy, and fun. It also has everything a good country song should have: acoustic guitar, upright bass, banjo, and of course a fiddle.

But don’t let labels scare you. Even if you don’t like “country” music, I think you will like “Wagon Wheel.” It’s one of the best songs I’ve heard in a long time.

[mp3] Old Crow Medicine Show :: Wagon Wheel

My site has been pretty quiet for the past week. That’s because I just got back from an 8-day trip to Iceland (as my previous tweet hinted at). It was an incredible experience. The country boasts some of the most unique geologic features on the planet, including volcanos, geysers, glaciers, fjords, and waterfalls. I’ve posted a few of my favorite photos from the trip. Hopefully they convey the awesomeness of the landscape.

Before leaving I had no idea what to expect. Luckily, I watched Heima on the flight to Reykjavik. The film chronicles the homecoming tour of Icelandic band Sigur Rós. In 2006, the band toured Iceland, playing free shows in unique settings and tiny villages. The film features breathtaking scenery and, of course, beautiful music. It is a great introduction to Iceland. It also made me kick myself for not seeing them live when I had the chance.

During the trip we did an insane amount of driving. To pass the time, I listened to boatloads of music. Sigur Rós definitely provided the best soundtrack for this journey. The Icelandic landscape is unbelievably gorgeous, but also desolate and unforgiving. The band’s music perfectly captures this duality. “Untitled 8″ is epic and intense, like an endless field of lava. “Andvari” is serene and soothing, like a gorgeous sunset. Because I can’t understand the lyrics, I can assign to the songs whatever meaning I want (which is why I love Sigur Rós so much).

Should you ever get the chance, I highly recommend visiting Iceland. But if you can’t, listening to Sigur Rós is the next best thing.

[mp3] Sigur Rós :: Untitled 8
[mp3] Sigur Rós :: Andvari

Sometimes I can’t help but think of all the amazing artists and albums that have slipped through the cracks over the years. Luckily these thoughts don’t keep me up at night. But they probably explain why I listen to so much music. I’m always browsing the interweb, searching for my next obsession. But this insatiable appetite also could be my undoing. By listening to tons of new music, I probably can’t fully appreciate the stuff I have, which causes more artists and albums to slip through the cracks. It’s a viscous cycle.

This almost happened with Annuals. The first time I listened to their debut album Be He Me I hated it. After nearly a dozen listens, my opinion hadn’t changed much. Eventually I forgot about the album.

Then a few weeks ago I randomly played Be He Me in my car. I don’t know if it was the better speakers or the time spent away from the album, but it sounded completely different. It sounded alive. Beautiful, soaring melodies had emerged from the overwhelming chaos. It was unbelievable.

Album closer “Sway” is a great example of this transformation. The song features a cacophony of seemingly random sounds and noises. With repeated listens, however, this unholy ruckus transforms into one of the most gorgeous moments on the album. It’s the perfect ending to a stellar album, and also the perfect introduction to Annuals, my latest obsession.

[mp3] Annuals :: Sway

I am not a spontaneous writer. When I come up with an idea for an article, I usually spend several days (or even weeks) tweaking and polishing it before posting it on my site. The extra time helps me better organize and focus my thoughts.

I think this approach has worked out pretty well so far. When I look back on older posts, I’m usually pretty happy with what I read. I’m even happier to see that, for the most part, I still like (and listen to) the music I wrote about.

But tonight I am abandoning this approach. I discovered a song and I need to write about it. Now.

As I made the usual rounds on the internet this morning, I caught a feature on eMusic called “2009 Sleepers.” I noticed Hurray For the Riff Raff on the list so I decided to check out some of the other bands. One of them was The Antlers. After reading a few reviews of Hospice and listening to some clips, I jumped over to last.fm to see if I could stream some full tracks.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) there were only two full songs posted: “Bear” and “Two.” I listened to both tracks as I hung up some shirts in the other room. The sound was a little muffled, but through the wall I heard an incredibly beautiful and haunting melody. It was the song “Two.” I had to listen to it again, except this time give it my full attention.

During my second listen, I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to focus on: the slow, gorgeous build of the instrumentation or the heartbreaking lyrics. After nearly a dozen listens, I still don’t know what to focus on. It’s one of those songs that causes paralysis: when it comes on, I stop whatever it is I’m doing and just listen. It’s also one of those songs that ends way too soon (despite being almost 6 minutes long).

Ultimately, however, the words I write will fail to convey just how remarkable this song is. Maybe I should spend a few more days tweaking this post. Kidding of course. Just give the song a listen.

[mp3] The Antlers :: Two

So I have a theory that there are two basic responses to breaking up with someone: sadness or anger. The first reaction produces the kind of music I normally listen to — sorrowful, introspective stuff — while the second produces punk music.

And I support this theory with the following observation. I’ve never really warmed to punk music. The reason for this is simple: I’m a moper. My response to most situations (including break-ups) is sadness. I rarely get mad — unless I happen to be driving. As a result, I have a hard time identifying with angry, bitter music.

Or so I thought. A few years ago I stumbled upon Deja Entendu by Brand New. While I remember cringing at some of the louder, heavier tracks (especially the ones with screaming), I really enjoyed the album’s slower songs. Especially “The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot” and “Play Crack the Sky.”

But lately I’ve been warming to the entire album (including the screaming). It’s just too good — amazing hooks, epic riffs, and heartbreaking lyrics abound. It took a few years, but I’ve finally come to appreciate both the quiet and loud moments of Deja Entendu.

The song posted below isn’t necessarily my favorite track from the album, but it features the band sounding both quiet and loud. There’s even some screaming!

Note: For those of you worried about the direction of my blog, rest assured. At my core, I’m still a moper (and always will be). But every now and then I feel like screaming and rocking out.

[mp3] Brand New :: Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis

Sometimes I wish I was still a kid. Life was so much simpler back then — playing catch in the front yard until the last rays of light left the sky, building skateboard ramps in the driveway, cruising aimlessly around the neighborhood on my bike. No worrying about credit card bills, career paths, or social networks. No worrying about financial meltdowns, global warming, or terrorist attacks.

The problems confronting the world today seem unparalleled. But maybe they’ve always been this big; maybe I just never noticed them as a kid. And they’re getting pretty hard to ignore now. It seems like the more I learn, the more serious the problems become.

So how do we respond when faced with such daunting challenges? Barack Obama offered an answer to this question at his inauguration yesterday: stand united and work together towards a better future. It won’t be easy, but it needs to start happening. Soon.

And although I agree with him, I still miss the carefree days of childhood. Oddly enough, I’ve recently discovered two songs that remind me of those simpler times. Which is one of the many reasons I love music: a few well-placed notes can transport you to a different time and place, or even conjure up a long-forgotten memory.

The first song is “Kids” from MGMT’s Oracular Spectacular. In addition to its fitting title, “Kids” features a ridiculously catchy hook and some vague lyrics about growing up. After listening to this song a few times, it’s easy to see why MGMT topped so many lists at the end of 2008.

The second song, “Hands Remember” by Seabear (aka Sindri Már Sigfússon), sounds like a peaceful dream. A gorgeous string section accompanies Sigfússon’s gentle vocals. Again, the lyrics have a nostalgic feel, talking about revisiting and repeating the past. If you like this song, I highly recommend checking out the rest of The Ghost That Carried Us Away. It’s one of the best albums I’ve heard in a while.

[mp3] MGMT :: Kids
[mp3] Seabear :: Hands Remember

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving! And now that it’s the day after, it’s officially acceptable to talk about Christmas. So here it goes…

Apparently, it’s a tradition for musicians in the UK to pump out cheesy Christmas songs right before the holiday. The ridiculously-sappy Christmas movie Love Actually confirms this: part of the story revolves around a burned-out musician competing with a popular boy band for the top Christmas song. You can probably guess who grabs the No. 1 spot.

This tradition was further confirmed by the guys in Frightened Rabbit. Before their show at Bottom of the Hill a few weeks ago, I asked them about their Christmas song (”It’s Christmas So We’ll Stop”) and how it came to be. They joked about how they were just following tradition when they released it last Christmas.

If their song is a joke, it isn’t very funny — in fact, it’s actually a little depressing. On second thought, cynical might a better word to describe it. The song talks about how people are nice to each other only around Christmas time.

Like all good Frightened Rabbit songs, “It’s Christmas So We’ll Stop” uses seemingly disjointed thoughts and images to convey a simple, yet powerful story or idea. When you add in a gorgeous melody that grabs you and refuses to let go, it’s easy to see why this is the greatest Christmas song ever.

[mp3] Frightened Rabbit :: It’s Christmas So We’ll Stop

For the second greatest Christmas song ever, I highly recommend “Sister Winter” by Sufjan Stevens, which I wrote about last year. The original article can be found here.

In order to return my blog to its usual format, I need to clear out the backlog of music created by my summer hiatus. This post should bring you up to speed on some of my favorite albums released in the past few months. It won’t be poetic, but then again, housekeeping rarely is.

MY MORNING JACKET

After the massive disappointment that was Z, I expected very little of My Morning Jacket’s latest album Evil Urges. After several months of listening, I can honestly say Evil Urges doesn’t suck. In fact, it’s pretty solid. The band continues to distance themselves from the sound they perfected on At Dawn, which, at least for me, is disappointing because that’s the sound I originally fell in love with.

I think, however, I’ve come to terms with their new direction. Seeing them live at the Greek two weeks ago definitely helped. These guys put on an amazing show. One of the many highlights that night was an incredible version of “Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Pt. 2,” the epic closing track on Evil Urges. The studio version of this song is posted below.

[mp3] My Morning Jacket :: Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Pt. 2

THE WALKMEN

On You & Me, The Walkmen not only perfect their sound but finally feel comfortable with it. And they sound as if they’ve just shaken off an epic hangover: their new album contains a sense of weariness and regret not present in previous albums. Maybe The Walkmen have grown up.

If so, it’s for the better. You & Me is their most consistent, and ultimately, their most rewarding album to date. Ironically, its consistency might also be its biggest turn-off. Songs sometimes bleed too much into each other. It takes repeated listens before tracks distinguish themselves. After nearly two dozen spins, I’m finally there. Right now, “On the Water” is my favorite track, but this will probably change on a weekly basis.

[mp3] The Walkmen :: On the Water

SHEARWATER

Similar to The Walkmen, Shearwater sounds like they’ve finally figured themselves out. With the release of Rook, Meiburg and his band fully step out of the shadow of Okkervil River. I’m only disappointed it took so long.

There is a lot going on under the surface of Rook. The shear gorgeousness of the music often masks a strong undercurrent of anger and frustration. Which is part of the reason I like Shearwater so much: their ability to combine beauty and violence is striking. The title track from Rook, which is posted below, captures this balance perfectly.

[mp3] Shearwater :: Rooks

SIGUR RÓS

Sigur Rós has yet to release a disappointing album. With every new CD, they manage to explore new territory while at the same time maintaining their core sound (My Morning Jacket should take a lesson from them). The first few tracks on Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust, for example, can almost be described as joyous, which is definitely new territory for the band.

This mood, however, doesn’t last long. Soon the band retreats to familiar ground, slowing the flow of music to that of a glacier. “Illgresi,” the track posted below, resides on the slower second half of Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust and features the band at its simplest: a pretty acoustic guitar riff, some violin flourishes, and Jónsi’s plaintive vocals.

[mp3] Sigur Rós :: Illgresi