For the past year or so, I’ve felt the overwhelming desire to move up north for the winter and live by myself in a cabin. Kind of like Bon Iver, but not really (mostly because I doubt anything as beautiful as For Emma, Forever Ago would result). Also, I’d want to go somewhere more mountainous and snowy than Wisconsin. Probably either Alaska or western Canada.

The reasons for this are multiple. First, I want to experience the full intensity of winter (I love cold and snow). Second, I want to gaze upon the Northern Lights in all their glory. And third, I want to see how I respond to prolonged periods of darkness and isolation.

So when a good friend suggested I read North Into the Night, a story about a guy who spends a winter alone in the Arctic, I happily obliged. At the very least, it would be an entertaining read, and might even help me prepare for my adventure.

Without giving too much of the book away, the guy nearly goes crazy after spending over 5 months in complete darkness and isolation. He sleeps for days on end and often loses control of his temper and sanity. Even though my proposed adventure wouldn’t be as intense, his story filled me with apprehension. Could I really go 5 months without seeing another person?

All of this got me thinking about the nature of isolation. After some serious reflection, I’ve come up with two kinds (though I’m sure there’s more). The first type of isolation, as described in North Into the Night, is largely physical; the author (Alvah Simon) ventured to a part of the world that few inhabit, so quite naturally he was alone. The second kind of isolation is best illustrated by the story told in Justin Townes Earle’s heartbreaking song “Yuma.” The isolation he portrays is mostly psychological; the (hopefully) fictional character feels completely alone even when surrounded by scores of people in a city.

I think psychological isolation is easier to sympathize with and understand. Most of us live in populated areas. Yet somehow the constant presence of other people doesn’t always fight back feelings of isolation and loneliness. Especially with the rise in popularity of iPods and personal music players. Just pop in those little white ear buds and the surrounding world disappears!

Anyways, if you like the song posted below, I highly recommend listening to the rest of Justin Townes Earle’s Official Website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon | CD Baby | Amie Street EP Yuma, as well as his LP The Good Life. He has an amazing voice and a knack for penning gorgeous songs that perfectly articulate those universal feelings of heartbreak and loneliness. Which, coincidentally, sound amazing through the ear buds of an iPod.

[mp3] Justin Townes Earle - Yuma

I knew this day would come. It had to. Dogs normally don’t live fifteen years. Especially fifteen years with three rambunctious boys.

Yet somehow Molly endured. Far beyond even our most optimistic expectations. Even towards the end, when she couldn’t hear and struggled up and down the stairs, she still kept doing the things she loved: lying in the sun at the front door, wolfing down her food as though she hadn’t eaten in weeks, and doing her best imitation of my mom’s shadow.

Reality still hasn’t sunk in. My beloved dog is gone. She won’t be there at the door to greet me when I come home next time. And I won’t bring back nearly 3 pounds of dog hair with me to California.

So here’s to Molly, forever my little puppy. Here’s to the endless stream of stupid nicknames that flowed in her direction, the sleepless nights caused by her innate ability to hog the entire bed, the cute way she flicked snow up in the air with her nose, and the countless scraps of food she pilfered from the kitchen (including a Christmas ham from the refrigerator).

Here’s to the good times and the bad. Here’s to my faithful childhood companion. I’m going to miss you Molly.

[mp3] Sigur Rós - Andvari

First of all, thank you for all the responses to my survey. I apologize for being a little melodramatic. I’m not going to shut down my blog. If anything, I’m going to redesign and (possibly) expand it. Hopefully over the summer when I have more time.

I also apologize for my recent lack of activity. I’ve been extraordinarily busy with school. Specifically, writing papers about engineered system failures and national public policy. Needless to say, it’s difficult to follow topics like those with what I typically address on my lowly blog.

To make matters even worse, I’ve been struggling with the following question. How do you write about something so inherently personal? Subjectivity is, after all, part of music’s appeal. A song can be technically flawless, but that doesn’t mean everyone (or anyone) will like it. Music that makes some people “want to kill themselves” may, to others, serve as a crutch or an escape.

And while most critics try to remain objective when writing reviews, they do so at the expense of making sense. For example, when was the last time you read an entire write-up on cokemachineglow? I usually just check the rating at the top and maybe read the first paragraph. I find these types of reviews to be helpful only after I’ve listened to the music (and formed my own opinions). Only then do I care about what other people think.

All this may explain the rise of the blog. People aren’t looking for objective and critical analysis, they’re looking for guidance (at least when it comes to music). The best bloggers tend to be the most personal: they describe not only the overall sound or mood of the music (the context), but also their personal reaction to it (the opinion). Most importantly, they provide samples so you can listen and try it out yourself.

The context is the trickiest part. It usually involves potentially dangerous labels and associations. Defining the music’s genre or listing similar artists, while most times overly constrictive and sometimes marginalizing, provides crucial guidance. In fact, a quick check of the previous posts on a blog usually tells the reader all he or she needs to know about the quality of the site.

By now you might be asking yourself, “Where the hell are you going with this?” As it turns out, nowhere in particular. I actually may have gone in a giant circle. I started writing this article with the purpose of conveying the recent difficulties I’ve encountered writing on my blog. To that end, this post may have helped me overcome these difficulties. We won’t know for sure, however, until the semester ends in two weeks…

Until then, enjoy a couple songs that perfectly fit my current mood of apprehension and self-doubt.

[mp3] Ane Brun - To Let Myself Go
[mp3] Nina Nastasia - Superstar

As it turns out, coming up with full length mixes is not only difficult but also takes up a lot of space on my server. Also, I’ve found that attention spans tend to be pretty short. So to address these issues, I’m introducing yet another project. I call it the “Mini Mix:” 4 or 5 songs revolving around a central theme.

This post is dedicated to my Aunt Judy, who passed away March 29 and will be dearly missed.

I apologize for the long hiatus, but the songs on my first Mini Mix should make up for my absence. They are nothing short of brilliant. Upon first listen, the songs are strikingly beautiful, packed with catchy melodies and gorgeous harmonies. Subsequent listens, however, reveal an overwhelming sense of sadness and despair. I think the word that best describes this mix is bittersweet (hence the title).

Appropriately, all these songs fit my current mood: happy on the surface, yet for some inexplicable reason tinged with a profound sadness on the inside. I think I will let the songs do the rest of the talking.

1. [mp3] Drive-By Truckers - Two Daughters and a Beautiful Wife
2. [mp3] Hayden - Home By Saturday
3. [mp3] Sera Cahoone - Only As the Day Is Long
4. [mp3] Jason Collett - Somehow
5. [mp3] Justin Townes Earle - Far Away In Another Town

I’ve been struggling with this question for a while now. Is music a necessity or merely a luxury afforded those who have their most basic needs met?

I know how I would answer it. As someone who’s scrobbled over 40,000 tracks on last.fm in the past 18 months, music would appear to be a necessity to me. If you do the math, I spend around 20% of my time listening to music. This is staggering, especially when you consider that approximately 30% of my life is spent sleeping.

The percentage calculated above, however, is misleading: I often multi-task while listening to music. It makes routine chores like homework and commuting tolerable. In fact, music makes my life in general much more enjoyable, which itself is an argument supporting its necessity.

But do we really need music to survive? Clearly it does not provide the nutrition of food or the safety of shelter. There are lots of people out there who never listen to music, either because they lack the opportunity or because they get no enjoyment from it. I’d like to think I could continuing living without ever hearing another song again.

The key word in that last sentence is “think.” I get restless if I haven’t listened to music in a couple days. It calms and soothes, stirs and inspires. It is intensely personal, yet can unite large groups of diverse people. Music offers an escape from reality, taking me back to precise moments in my life or forward to moments I hope to experience. The Album Leaf’s “Twentytwofourteen” takes me back to the winter I spent living in Truckee, while I can imagine playing Beirut’s “Postcards From Italy” at my wedding.

I guess I’ve been pondering this question because I often dream about making music my profession. Whether critiquing or creating, I seem to have a passion for it that most people don’t understand. At the same time, however, I want to be a productive member of society. And if music isn’t necessary, how can I justify working in the industry?

Maybe one justification can be found in people like me. Music has profoundly shaped and altered my life, and for that reason it is valuable. Maybe not necessary, but important nonetheless.

[mp3] Bon Iver - For Emma

The song posted above, the title track from Bon Iver’s Official Website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon | CD Baby | Amie Street exquisite For Emma, Forever Ago, only reinforces the value and power of music. Despite having been recorded in a cabin in northern Wisconsin during the winter, the song exudes warmth.

No matter how humble (or in my case embarrassing) your roots may be, you should always remember them. After some reflection, I’ve found that my musical roots go back quite a ways.

During grade school, I mostly listened to my dad’s music. It was pretty standard stuff: Clapton, CSNY, Dylan, the Eagles, the Doors, Dan Fogelberg, and Jimmy Buffett. There was also MC Hammer and Ace of Base. Sadly, I have no one to blame but myself for those two.

Then in 7th and 8th grade, I got swept up in the grunge movement. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, and Nine Inch Nails dominated my small CD collection. Over time, my teenage angst subsided and so too did the noise from my speakers.

At the end of high school, I started listening to music again. This time mopey alt-rock by the likes of Goo Goo Dolls, Third Eye Blind, Counting Crows, and Vertical Horizon. One of my friends recommended I listen to Radiohead, so I did. After quickly exhausting their catalog, I looked for something new.

That something was Coldplay, who I discovered freshmen year of college. Most people discover alcohol and drugs in college; for me it was Coldplay. I bought any and everything they released, tracking down rare imports and promos. They were my first true musical obsession and spawned my “British” phase (David Gray, Travis, Doves, Turin Brakes, etc).

And after all of that, I ended up where I am now. Looking back, I can’t help but chuckle at the school-girl crush I had on Coldplay. Embarrassing as it may be, that crush largely inspired my recent music renaissance. And for that, I pay homage.

[mp3] Coldplay - Yellow [piano version - live @ KCRW]

A few years ago I stumbled upon the (largely) wordless world of post-rock. Initially, I didn’t know what to think. I worried that the lack of lyrics would prevent me from emotionally connecting to the music.

Call me lame, but at that point in time my musical tastes were still evolving. I gravitated towards slow songs with sad lyrics. I wasn’t necessarily sad and depressed, I just liked listening to other people who clearly were.

But you can’t be depressed forever. The same goes for music too. I had exhausted the catalogues of David Gray and Coldplay and needed something different.

I don’t remember the exact sequence of things, but I think I discovered Sigur Rós and Explosions In the Sky at around the same time. Both bands differed from everything in my music collection: Sigur Rós sang in a foreign/made-up language and Explosions In the Sky didn’t sing at all.

After a few listens, my initial concerns were put to rest. This was really good music. And with no lyrics to distract me, I could assign my own meaning to each song. For example, I’ve always pictured myself cruising down pristine slopes through epic powder while listening to “The Only Moment We Were Alone” by Explosions In the Sky.

Those of you who know that song may think I’m crazy, but that’s what I get from it.

And then there’s a song by The Album Leaf called “TwentyTwoFourteen” that perfectly fit one of my last drives through the mountains of Tahoe last winter. I think it’s the only track that I can link to an exact place and moment in time.

Now I’m not saying that songs with lyrics are bad. Good lyricists use words to paint blurry images that can be uniquely interpreted by the listener. I think everyone would put Bob Dylan in this category, though I think I’ll take a more modern example: Jim James of My Morning Jacket. Especially on the album At Dawn.

Writing this lengthy dissertation has made me realize something: when I listen to a song for the first time, I rarely hear the words. Instead, I focus on the instrumentation and overall mood of the song. For example, I didn’t realize that “The Monitor” by Bishop Allen was about the Civil War until several of my friends told me. I was focusing too much on that damn guitar part. Whether that’s good or bad is debatable…

I honestly don’t know what sparked this post. I just wanted to point out the fact that music doesn’t need lyrics to have impact. Then I planned to reinforce this observation by sharing a really good track by Mono called “Sabbath.” But somewhere in that process things went horribly awry.

[mp3] Mono - Sabbath

Whenever I am about to begin a new stage of my life, I always get a little depressed. It doesn’t matter how excited I am, it still happens. Tomorrow I officially start grad school at Cal, which could be a particularly rough transition seeing as how I spent last winter snowboarding in Tahoe. Add to that the fact that, for the last month, I haven’t been able to find an apartment and you can potentially see why I’m bummed.

My second podcast definitely reflects my current mood. It’s a mix of slow, somber songs - both old and new. I titled it “Late Night Drinking” because I feel that the songs were originally recorded under those conditions. It’s definitely mood music; listen to it late at night on your headphones for full effect. Sorta the exact opposite of my first podcast, which I feel works anytime.

Here’s the tracklisting:

1. My Morning Jacket - Strangulation!
2. Brand New - Play Crack the Sky
3. Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s - A Light On a Hill
4. The National - Lucky You
5. Ryan Adams - Oh My Sweet Carolina
6. The Mountain Goats - Sometimes I Still Feel the Bruise
7. The National - Daughters of the Soho Riots
8. Ryan Adams & the Cardinals - How Do You Keep Love Alive
9. Shearwater - Wedding Bells Are Breaking Up That Old Gang of Mine
10. Jeff Hanson - Something About
11. The National - About Today
12. Songs: Ohia - Blue Chicago Moon

Directly download my podcast here. Visit the archives here.

PS - I wanted this mix to be an enhanced podcast, meaning you can easily skip from track to track within the mp3, but I couldn’t get it to work. Hopefully I can figure it out by next month. Also, there will be no Weekly Download on account of the podcast. Bonus points to anyone who reads this far into the post, and extra bonus points to whoever can guess which of the 12 tracks is my all-time favorite song.