On Favorite Music

I hadn’t intended on publishing this post this soon, and so close to the heels of my last post, but I feel like this one needs to be published sooner than later. It’ll provide a good foundation for my next coming post to be published on Friday, and many more posts throughout the year/years. It’s a long one, but I hope it’ll be worth your time.

Favorite Artist(s)

Ever since the Fall of 2007 when I first heard them, the Avett Brothers have been my favorite group. It was an instant and immediate promotion, knocking out of contention Led Zeppelin, The Smashing Pumpkins, Pearl Jam, Interpol, Death Cab for Cutie, OK Go, Wilco, and Snow Patrol for that top slot. I still remember sitting at the job site in Wolf Creek above Heber in the passenger seat of Sean’s Isuzu Rodeo. Four Thieves Gone had just come out, which didn’t mean much to me at the time, since they were then totally unknown to me. He played the first track, “Talk On Indolence,” and I’ll never forget the rush hearing Scott machine gun those opening lyrics. I don’t remember any other song that got me so amped up in that way, before or after. Rage Against the Machine and Tool are probably the closest comparison, but the emotions they stirred up were from a more angsty and angry and defiant place. “Talk On Indolence” was a much happier and jubilantly rowdy sound. Brandi Carlile can really give me chills with the emotion in her voice in some songs, “The Story” being the one that gets me most, both in degree and in frequency.

It's now been a little over 17 years since that day (I don’t remember exactly which day, though my last.fm profile shows me that I first listened to them on my iPod or iTunes on September 2), and for that duration of time, the Avett Brothers have been my number one favorite band. Or, nearly that long.

Going further back in my musical history, I was introduced to Iron & Wine during the 2002/2003 school year of college. I can’t say he (Sam Beam) was at the top of my list of favorites. He was possibly in my top 10, but not in my top 5. Even still, he was always a constant in my musical rotation, and continues to be today. In 2011, when Kiss Each Other Clean was released, he was more prominent, especially the song “Half Moon.” That song still really makes me happy. It happened again in 2013 with the release of Ghost on Ghost, and two songs were on repeat a lot afterwards: “Caught in the Briars,” and “The Dessert Babbler.” Love Letter for Fire, a collaboration with Jesca Hoop came out in 2016, and I couldn’t stop listening to “The Lamb You Lost” and “Every Songbird Says.” Beast Epic came out in 2017, and while no specific songs really stood out, the album, as a whole, was, and is fantastic.

But the Avett Brothers were also putting out phenomenal albums and EPs: The Carpenter came out in 2012, and I saw them live for that album’s tour in Salt Lake. Then Magpie and the Dandelion came out in 2013, and I saw them in Seattle. True Sadness came out in 2016, and soon supplanted Emotionalism as my favorite Avetts album, while “Talk on Indolence” remained my favorite Avetts song and my favorite song period.

After 2016, both bands slowed down with their album releases, especially with the Avett Brothers. Iron & Wine put out another collaborative album with Calexico in 2019 but didn’t put out a solo album until May of last year, Light Verse, which is really good. The Avetts put out Closer Than Together in 2019, and only a few songs really hooked me, and then they too were silent until May of last year when they released a self-titled album, which, like the previous, only had a few hooking songs. The Iron & Wine album and the Avetts album were released only a few weeks apart and a feeling I’d been having increasingly since the middle of 2023 began to crystalize into something I could define: my love for the Avetts was slowly waning, and that for Iron & Wine was growing fast.

I started to really give in to introspection: who was really my favorite artist? I thought the Avetts would forever be my favorites. But I was connecting more often and more deeply with Iron & Wine lately. Was it too early; had too little time passed for me to really let another group dethrone the Avett Brothers? Was I making a hasty decision? It was an immediate thing for the Avetts to dethrone Led Zeppelin, why wouldn’t this gradual shift be just as legitimate, just as honest, just as true? Maybe even more so? If Iron & Wine really was my new favorite, who was Number 2? Would the Avetts, by default, occupy that slot? Or do they fall farther than just one position? If they fell more than one, who moves up? And, what, in the first place, is the criteria that makes a group my favorite? What makes a Number 1? 2? 3, etc.? As I write this, I acknowledge that I never really defined those criteria. I sat down and looked at all of the artists in my Apple Music library, along with all the artists listed in my last.fm profile, made a list of my 100 most-played artists plus a few others that go deep into my past—favorite bands from high school—so they could all present their case, to use a courtroom as an analogy. Just going off of instinct, I re-structured my top 10 favorite artists. I came to the conclusion that yes, Iron & Wine is now my favorite artist. So I can say my top ten artists stand as follows:

  1. Iron & Wine

  2. The Avett Brothers

  3. Elliott Smith

  4. Interpol

  5. Death Cab for Cutie

  6. Wilco

  7. Secret Machines

  8. Cat Power

  9. Smashing Pumpkins

  10. Grizzly Bear

Spots 3-20 or 25 might be a little fluid, but I think this order might stand for a good while.

I suppose at this time I should try to define what makes a favorite, to put into words what some of those intuitive thoughts and feelings were telling me, how they were guiding me:

  • How long have I known this artist? How long have they been a part of my life?

  • How much of a part of my life have they been? Has it just been a casual relationship, or one I’ve turned to often?

  • Does frequency of listens really matter? What was the intent behind listening?

  • How much history do I share with that artist?

  • Do I have any deep and significant memories associated with that artist? What are those memories, and what makes them significant?

  • How big is this artist’s oeuvre? Does a large or small body of work have a significant influence of their position on my list?

There may be more questions I considered that I either don’t remember or can’t quite articulate still, but this gives a good picture of what was going through my mind and has been going through my mind for at least five or six months, if not longer. And it’s because of this list of questions that it’s so hard to really pin down a definitive top 10 or 25 list of my favorite artists as far as who belongs on it, and which position they occupy.

Favorite Song(s)

Amid this “Who is my favorite artist” “crisis,” I’ve also been pondering what is my favorite song? Is it sill “Talk on Indolence?” That too has also been dethroned this year. Before all this thinking on who my favorite artist was, and then what my favorite song was, I don’t know that I had a definitive list of favorite songs. I only knew that “Talk On Indolence” was my favorite and then a lot of others all contending for various positions, such as “Hard Sun” by Eddie Vedder, “Half Moon” and “The Dessert Babbler” by Iron & Wine, “Farewell Transmission” by Songs: Ohia, “The New” by Interpol, “Transatlanticism” by Death Cab for Cutie. So along with compiling a list of my favorite artists, I’ve tried to put together a list of my favorite songs of all time, and, like the artists list, will surely be a fluid thing, but as it stands now, this is what I have:

  1. “Willie,” by Cat Power

  2. “Half Moon,” by Iron & Wine

  3. “The Dessert Babbler,” by Iron & Wine

  4. “Two Weeks,” by Grizzly Bear

  5. “Hard Sun,” by Eddie Vedder

  6. “Ain’t No Man,” by The Avett Brothers

  7. “The New,” by Interpol

  8. “Transatlanticism,” by Death Cab for Cutie

  9. “I’m the Man Who Loves You,” by Wilco

  10. “When the Stars Go Blue,” by Ryan Adams

 

Do you see what is not on the list? Do you see how far down that list is the artist that was once my favorite of all time? To say it was a struggle to come up with this list and to realize that “Talk On Indolence” wouldn’t make the cut would be like saying the ocean is damp. Among the considerations listed above regarding what constitutes a favorite, was what message the song carried, and what emotions were stirred up. I also had to take into consideration melodies, harmonies, tunes, instrumentation, vocals, lyricality (a song can have a good message or meaning, but told through or with poorly written lyrics). In all this contemplation, I’d realized that “Talk On Indolence” needed to make way for other Avetts songs to rise to the top, as far as what the song means to me. That song is my most played ever: I’ve listened to it over 500 times, as shown by my last.fm data to date. But again, does play count alone rank my favorites? The answer, if you haven’t deduced by now, is a resounding “no!”

Around April I played “Willie” by Cat Power. Actually, I played that whole album, The Greatest. When I came across that album in 2007 (it came out in 2006), I played it on repeat several times a day. It was like a soothing balm to my soul in the chaos and rough day-to-day pace of framing houses. “Willie” was/is such a great song: the story of two lovers who couldn’t be separated, beautiful lyrics sung beautifully by Chan Marshal’s soft, yet strong voice, the wonderful saxophone guiding the melody along. But over the past 10 years or so, that album wasn’t a regular feature in my musical choices or rotation, so when I really listened to it in April, a flood of memories came back, and those same feelings of calm and tranquility washed over me. It only took a few listens to realize that that song belonged in the top spot, and should have remained there the whole time. Now married, and with two boys, it just touched my soul: I love Gina with my whole self, and Tommy and Jonah too, and that song stirred up all the feelings of love and joy that I have for them. It’s not the number one song I turn to when I’m pining for her—that song is “Islands in the Stream” covered by Feist and Constantines. But “Willie” is now firmly at the top of the list of favorites, then the two by Iron & Wine are equally firm in their respective positions. At least for now. As I’ve said, these things are fluid, and life changes the more it goes on, and who knows what song or songs will have a profound impact on my in a year or 10?

New All Songs Playlist

And now the final topic. I’ve listened to the All Songs Considered podcast from NPR since late 2005 or early 2006, I’m not totally sure. But ever since then, I’ve kept and curated a playlist of the songs I’ve added to my library that were discovered through and because of that podcast. It was (I know I’m spoiling things a bit by using the past tense here) 18 or 19 years old, and I don’t know how many songs had been added to it. That playlist was a representation of all of my discoveries and my separation from mainstream record labels, and artists: pretty much all the stuff you hear on top 40 radio stations over and over. So when that playlist somehow got inadvertently deleted in August last year, I was devastated. And frustrated. All of that history was gone. So many lone songs in my music library were now orphaned. I knew many of the songs that were in that playlist, but there were so many more that I rarely ever played unless I listened to that playlist, but still really enjoyed listening to. Luckily I had duplicated part of that playlist on Spotify, but that only spanned about 4 years of those musical discoveries. I still have no idea how that playlist got deleted. I had been updating it and adding some new songs to it, and when I went to add a song after having added a few songs to it, it was gone.

I mourned the loss for a few days (not to sound overly dramatic), wondering how to proceed. Do I reconstruct it? How? Do I just make a new one and it would only have the songs I’d discovered since the creation of this new one? I decided on reconstruction. I knew that the podcast has had an accompanying blog since it’s inception, so, along with the partially duplicated Spotify playlist, I went as far back as I remembered listening to that podcast—in reality, I’m sure I went back a little earlier—and made a spreadsheet to which I added every artist and song that seemed remotely familiar. Then, using that spreadsheet, I’ve been able to cross reference songs that are in my library and reconstruct the playlist. But I learned very early on in the process that songs would be in this new playlist that hadn’t been in the first incarnation, or even my library, originally, and I had to accept that this new one would not be as organic as the previous one. There are songs in this new playlist by artists I came to know and enjoy at a later point in their career that I had not added to my library and original playlist. There are songs from my high school years, classic rock songs, that I didn’t add to the original playlist because they were not “discoveries” but now exist in this new one. Both of those statements show that now this new playlist is a much more accurate representation or cross section of my overall musical tastes, and therefor I’m much more excited about this playlist than I was at the beginning. I don’t know if I can say that I’m more excited about this playlist than the old one, but I’m excited about it.

You can scroll through and/or listen to the first 100 songs on the playlist below. At the time of publishing this post, the playlist as a whole sits at 1051 songs, and I’m adding to it regularly.

 

I’ve written about music here before, perhaps not as much as I could have, but certainly not as much I should have. Music is such a big part of my life and it informs my creativity so much that I really have no shortage of material there for writing about my thoughts and feelings about creativity, about what sparks such deep emotion in a song or album. What memories are stirred up, what lyric touched me in some way, how that song or artist informs my photography or life in general. So follow along for my humble thoughts, opinions and reactions on and to all that has been discussed.

Favorite Music of 2019

2019 has been a good year for music. The Avett Brothers released their 10th studio album, and Amy Palmer released one of the most raw albums I’ve ever heard. And with a few earlier posts about music in mind, I thought it only fitting I do a post of some of my favorite songs of 2019.

Death in Midsummer, Deerhunter

The first on the list is the song Death in Midsummer by Deerhunter. The song’s cheery melody made by a harpsichord, piano, and guitar, belie the mortality-confronting lyrics. If you want to hear a new take on a 60’s psychadelic sound, give them a listen.

The Ride, Amanda Palmer

I wrote about the second song on the list back in February, so check that post out for my thoughts on The Ride by Amanda Palmer. Make sure you’ve got some tissue handy before you press play.

High Steppin’, The Avett Brothers

The latest album from The Avett Brothers, released in October, is their most political yet. They take on sexism, racism, and gun violence. In their announcement of the album on Instagram, Seth Avett says “We didn’t make a record that was meant to comment on the sociopolitical landscape that we live in. We did, however, make an album that is obviously informed by what is happening now on a grander scale all around us…because we are a part of it and it is a part of us.”

Closer Than Together isn’t my favorite record the Avetts have made—it’s a pretty heavy album. But I do feel it’s exactly the album that they needed to make this year.

High Steppin’ is one of the best songs I’ve ever known to give me a boost. Towards the end, they sing “The best beggars are choosers. The best winners are losers. The best lovers ain’t ever been loved. First place ain’t easy. The hardest part is believing. The very last word is love.” It’s a good “pick-me-up” in the midst of such a sobering album.

Bleeding White, The Avett Brothers

Closer Than Together opens with this rockin’ song that I would love to see live one day.

Get Yourself Together, The Black Keys

The Black Keys have a new album out, and it doesn’t disappoint.

Wade in the Water, John Butler Trio

These last 5 songs in the list weren’t released in 2019, but they’re songs and/or artists I’ve either discovered this year, or still get played quite frequently.

The first of these, is Wade in the Water by John Butler Trio. I’d never heard of this group until my brother introduced me to them while we were on a family fishing trip.

Ever since the soundtrack to Into the Wild came out in 2007, the song Hard Sun has been my personal anthem. I couldn’t listen to the album without wanting to just fill my backpack and just disappear into the woods. It took 5 or 6 years before that desire faded, though Hard Sun still remained my anthem. Until I heard Wade in the Water. Maybe it was the fact that my brother said it would make for a good fly fishing film intro, and then we started riffing on the idea. Maybe it was the fact that I was with my favorite people in my most favorite place on earth doing one of my most favorite things. Maybe it’s the fact that the song is about finding one’s self in the river and mountains. Really, it’s all of the above. Give it a listen.

We All Die Young, The Decemberists

Just like Deerhunter’s Death in Midsummer’s cheery tune belies the heavy, mortality-facing lyrics, so does We All Die Young by The Decemberists. I mean, the chorus has a bunch of children singing along to “We all die young.”

The Joke, Brandi Carlile

Holy dang, Brandi Carlile always knocks my socks off! There’s a part in The Story that still gives me goosebumps and chills every single time I hear it. The Joke has the same affect, and like The Avett Brothers’ High Steppin’, it’s a powerful song that gives me hope and strength.

When I Get to Heaven, John Prine

I love John Prine’s voice, both pre- and post-cancer. Maybe more so post-cancer. I think the rawness of it just adds to the words being sung.

Sugartooth, Brandi Carlile

Sugartooth is another one of those antithetical songs, with an upbeat melody, but a sad tale behind it, of a childhood friend of Brandi’s brother who took his life after becoming addicted to drugs. But perhaps the tune behind the lyrics fit a little better than the others on the list.

A lot of the music that has come out during 2019, and 2018 has been pretty heavy. And I think it needs to be. Art is there to help us understand, and to confront us with challenging topics, and with all that we are facing locally, nationally, and globally, I think we need hard art. I think we need songs and paintings and photographs and sculpture and poetry and stories by those blessed with those gifts to help us all cope and confront our fears and worries and anger and whatever else we may be struggling with. Great art can (should?) heighten our joys, and happiness, or turn negative feelings to positive ones. Amanda Palmer’s The Ride is a good reminder that we’re all going through tough things, or have gone through tough things. We’re not alone. We don’t have to struggle alone in silence. After all, “Isn’t it nice when we all can cry at the same time?”

It's Just a Ride

Let me introduce this post by saying: find some place to be alone for 10 minutes. 10 minutes 14 seconds to be exact. This song, The Ride by Amanda Palmer is bound to bring some pretty powerful emotions to the surface. So go find a corner, maybe bring a box of tissues, and hit play: (a quick word of warning: She drops the F-bomb at 6:20, so hit mute for a second if you're averse to such language)

This song was featured on NPR's All Songs Considered podcast on February 12. When I heard it that day, I had the thought "That was a good song, and I'm glad I heard it and had that experience, but it's not a song I need in my library, but I'm glad I heard it." But the song just wouldn’t leave me alone. It's become an ear worm in the last 10 days, but in such a good way, and I had to write something about it.

The song is all about fear, and the ups and downs in life we all experience using a roller coaster ride as a metaphor to express the idea. The music perfectly reflects this in a waltz with an ascending and descending scale. Before she wrote the song, Amanda asked her fans on her Patreon website to tell her something they were afraid of in 50 words or less. They responded with 1,183 comments. On the list are things like the fear of dying, parents dying, inability to have children, losing a child, breaking up, finding new love. She wrote the song in 36 hours after reading those comments (which itself took her 3 hours) posted in response to her request. She told the NPR hosts in an interview about the experience:

There was a guy who commented ‘I’m not afraid of anything anymore really.’ I just remember what Bill Hicks said, and I knew exactly what this guy was talking about, I’m a huge Bill Hicks fan, I’ve referenced him in my songs, he’s a hero to me. And I knew he was talking about this monologue that Bill Hicks ended one of his shows with about how life is like a ride at an amusement park, and it has thrills and chills and you go up and down and around and around and it’s very brightly colored and then there are people who remember it’s a ride and they come back and they tell you don’t be afraid of anything ever. It’s just a ride. And I found myself thinking, like, ‘oh am I allowed to steal that for a song? I can write anything I want, I can steal that.’

What she came up with is something so mind-blowingly powerful. And ultimately, I feel, so full of hope and comfort. One of my favorite lines, which consistently puts a lump in my throat, goes "I wish you could think of me sitting and singing beside you." I just love how badly she wants to sit next to these fans of hers that told her so many heartbreaking stories and put her arm around them to comfort them. Another favorite line goes "Isn't it nice when we're all afraid at the same time?" and later a variation of the same: "Isn't it nice when we all can cry at the same time?" We've all gone through tough times in our lives, so we should all be able to sympathize and empathize with each other, and be afraid or cry with each other.

So if you're struggling, remember "it's just a ride." And I join Amanda in her wish that you "could think of me sitting and singing [or] riding beside you."

Music and Me

I love music.

I know I’m not unique in this aspect, so why bring it up? Why devote a post on my photography blog about my love of music?

There was a recent period in my life when I wasn’t the voracious music listener I was before and after. The only time I listened to music in any degree was while I was driving. But last year I gradually paying more attention to my iTunes library, and one of my resolutions for 2019 is to really get back into music.

I’m going to make perhaps a long-winded correlation, but hear me out: In the past 12 to maybe 18 months I’ve felt a resurgence in my confidence as a photographer (this whole topic of confidence deserves its own blog post, which I may or may not write), and I feel like my return to searching for new music and listening more often has been a big contributor to that change I’ve seen in my creatively, especially over the last month and a half. It was in early- to mid-2014 that I stopped searching out new music and listening so much, and it was around that same time that I felt a decline in my confidence level.

Music has always been one of my favorite things. I love the memories that certain songs can bring to the surface; I love the excitement of hearing an old favorite I may have neglected or ignored for a long time; I love the thrill of hearing a brand new song that stirs up emotion in whatever way, be it happiness, or sadness, or rowdy, or hopeful.

And while I’m on this topic of music, and its impact on my creativity, music has been a part of my photography. I’ve often thought of what a soundtrack for projects or individual photographs would sound like: what style of music would it be? would it be a score? who would compose it? what artists and songs would be on it? During the years of 2015-2017 and part of 2018, whenever I went out photographing I played music in the car that had an impact on me when I was in college or during my time in grad school. Artists like Interpol, Death Cab for Cutie, Wilco, The New Pornographers, and Elliott Smith. My thinking was that that music inspired me and helped channel my creativity back then, so it should inspire me now. I felt my work was strong then, so listening to that same music should help me make strong work now. Right? I even made a playlist with all of those old favorite songs and albums.

Looking back on that period, I feel like I was making work that was trying to by like the work I was making during college. I feel like I was trying to make that old music inform my present-day creativity. In mid-2018 I realized this, and thought “it’s 2018. I’m not in my early or late twenties. I need to be making work that is more authentic to my 2018 self. Why not update my music?” And once I did that, once I started playing the music that was inspiring me currently, today, I think that was when my confidence began to really return. I had, without stating specifically, decided to live in the present and look to the future as an artist, and turn to those things that are currently inspiring, informing, and influencing me. I’m not trying to make the music I listen to be responsible for my success or failures, or ups or downs as an artist. I just mention all this to illustrate the music’s power to influence me.

The lesson I’ve learned (and maybe it’s still sinking in) is that I’m not the same person I was when I was in college. I’m not the same artist I was then, or in 2008. I’m not the same artist I was a month ago, nor am I, I think it would be safe to say, even the same artist I was yesterday. We’re all progressing—or, god forbid, digressing—and we need to embrace that progression, grow with it, and learn from it. It might do us good to take a minute periodically and identify (if it’s not obvious) what is causing that growth.