Required Listening (a new playlist)

Music is so often a passive thing. We play it in the background while working, it resounds from tiny speakers while we run and it even comes on while we wait to talk to someone on the phone.

Sometimes, however, music leads you places or follows your mood without your prompting.

Tasked with introducing someone to three bands – Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, The National and JJ Grey – I started with the idea I could turn the album into a introductory course into new soul. That led me in several directions, to Fitz & The Tantrums to Lucero (who have really embraced the Memphis sound on their most recent recording, “Women & Work”) and even to Cake, who have incorporated trumpet lines into their work for years.

The base requirement here appears to be having a horn section of some sort, but that’s not fair to the genre and it isn’t fair to the emotions behind the song selections.

In culling my collection of soul(ish) songs, I picked a track from an artist and scurried on to the next. Only once or twice did I divulge from that pattern. For one selection (“Love You Madly” by Cake) I included a song I saw performed live with the person I was making the playlist for. And secondly, I remembered her talking about watching a Huey Lewis show on her last birthday… which reminded me to listen to the newest Huey Lewis album, which was unabashedly a Memphis soul recording. I found a song there that seemed to fit the tone of the collection.

Of course, I found something much deeper, too. In the process of assembling the songs, and listening on my final edits, the songs I included, often my favorite cuts from the album in question, painted a picture.

I’m absolutely crazy about the girl I made this album for.

I think she knows that, considering I’ve told her the same thing many times.

Listening to the tunes I’ve assembled here, I know how hard I’ve fallen. It’s a sudden, tumbling. graceless fall, and I say graceless because I realize how little control I have over the situation.

That’s a scary feeling, knowing you can’t catch yourself. It’s like a trust fall, and I can’t wait to be caught.

And I can’t wait to spend another day with her.

Here’s the list, for you Spotify folks.

1) Lucero – On My Way Downtown

2) The National – Mistaken for Strangers

3) Alabama Shakes – I Found You

4) Huey Lewis & The News – Just The One (I’ve Been Looking For)

5) JJ Grey & Mofro – The Sweetest Thing

6) Sharon Jones and The Dap-Kings – Give It Back

7) Van Morrison – Crazy Love

8) The National – Mr. November

9) Grace Potter and the Nocturnals – Nothing But The Water (1)

10) Cake – Love You Madly

11) Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings – Let Them Knock

12) Fitz & The Tantrums – L.O.V.

13) Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears – Since I Met You Baby

14) Cee Lo Green – Satisfied

15) Florence + Machine – Never Let Me Go

16) JJ Grey & Mofro – The Sun is Shining Down

Memphis Mayhem (a new playlist)

For a while, I entertained the notion of going to Memphis is May, which continues throughout the weekend in downtown Memphis.

A main goal of that endeavor, among others, was to spend time with someone I’d just met. We talked about going; she ended up having class this weekend and we decided against the trip.

In the process of trying to talk her out of class, I sent her a (near) daily song through Spotify.

The songs are all ostensibly about Memphis in May – they are all from participating bands – but clearly some have double meanings, like “Dance with Me” by Old 97′s, which I sent to her after a night we spent dancing.

But the list is a bit of a smattering, too. “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver” by Primus doesn’t really belong beside a gorgeous hipster pop ballad such as “Rivers and Roads” by The Head and the Heart, but what can you do? That’s how festivals work. You see and hear a lot of random things.

Rather than mess with the process, here’s the order I sent them in. Happy dancing, everyone.

Find the list via Spotify.

Alongide Gypsy Death

So, I’m running my first half marathon this morning.

I started training about a year ago. I ran a 5K this time last year, then another. In October, I ran a 10K. In the months since, I’ve been stretching myself out to longer distances.

My running guide, the one that tells me how many miles I’m supposed to do each day, tells me I’m ready for this. My head and heart and the rest of my body aren’t so sure.

I wake this morning with the following realities: 1) I hurt my knee in a training run two weeks ago. I do not know if it will hold out for 13.1 miles. 2) Thunderstorms, the same ones that produced tornadoes over a wide swath of Kansas yesterday, are zipping this way. I will be running this race in, at minimum, damp conditions and 20-mile-per-hour winds. At worst, I’ll be running in hail, lightning, 60-mile-per-hour winds and torrential rains. 3) I am a combination of nerves and energy and I’m frankly a little bit scared. I don’t run with a pacer, nor do I use music or a watch to monitor my time. I don’t – it’s just me and my self control out there. My legitimate concern now, in retrospect, is that in a race environment, I’ll start too fast and tire before the end of the run.

I feel like the Velvet Underground song “Run Run Run,” which, like many VU songs, features a cast of unsavory or unwanted characters. All of them take a run beside ‘Gypsy Death.’

I think I’m a little bit like that – I’ll be running alongside him or her.

Either he or she will best me or I’ll best them.

Between you and me, I have a pretty good idea which one it will be.

Swept away

One of the things I’ve always loved about Fayetteville is the townfolk’s great taste in music.

Collectively speaking, this town loves folk music, Americana, hipster jams and a wide variety of other genres.

It’s a strange music market sometimes – I feel that with the university, we attract some diverse interests, but we’re just too small of a city to attract a wide range of bands.

That said, I have many friends who share music interests with me, and this city similarly shares some of my favorites.

When I go to my favorite watering holes, it’s always great to hear the bartenders taking over the PA system for their own jams. I often hear Dr. Dog at Damgoode Pies, for instance. Joe at The Lightbulb Club likes The Band and plays them periodically.

This was the basic premise of my Wednesday night at Sideways, where Benjamin Del Shreve mans the bar. His pick of music for the evening was The Avett Brothers, and I can’t fault him for that. Softly, in the background, he worked through his Avett collection, from new to old and back again.

The Avetts Brothers have been a soundtrack for me on many nights, and what Ben couldn’t have known, or the Avetts when they wrote the song, was that they’d all line up for me again.

One of the songs he played was “Swept Away.” I’m feeling a little bit of that sentiment now.

Many of you know my convoluted dating history; some of you have read it poured out here on this blog.

I don’t know what to make of new relationships (and, when do you even start calling a relationship a ‘relationship’?), and I’m truly terrible at dating. But sitting there with a pretty girl on what had to be our seventh our eighth date, with the Avetts talking about the presence of a girl turning their world around, well, I realized something I knew but had trouble verbalizing.

I’ve been turned around, swept away, whatever you want to call it. But I don’t feel like I’m struggling against the broom. It’s a natural motion, like floating, and I don’t feel pressure.

A good friend of mine (also single) said he’s just looking for a relationship that’s easy. Not an easy girl, but an easy relationship. Something without drama, where a girl can say she likes you and you can say that same thing back and there aren’t hidden messages and there aren’t mixed feeling lurking around the corner and there is no need for a show.

I want that, too, but you never expect it to happen. I guess where the word ‘swept’ comes in. You never expect it.

Run right away

Sometimes, almost subconsciously, an album sticks with you.

The critical and commercial worlds were similarly pleased with the newest Black Keys offering, “El Camino,” which came out late last year.

Except, the album failed to have the staying power of their Grammy-winning commercial breakthrough, “Brothers,” from the year before. Or, if it did, no one is talking very loudly about it. I’m comfortable saying I was one of the few music critics who put the album at the very top of their Top 10 album list.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve learned why.

Not that other critics were wrong, or that I was right. It’s just that I learned why this album resonated so deeply with me, even if I didn’t know exactly why when I first listened.

A thread running its way through the bulk of the tracks is this unknown-but-hard-to-suppress desire to return to someone who isn’t right for you. Even if they were right for you at one time or another.

I mean, look:

Track 1, “Lonely Boy”: “I’m a lonely boy/Oh, oh-oh I got a love that keeps me waiting”

Track 2: “Dead and Gone”: “Don’t you drag me along/If you do, you know I’ll follow you”

I could go on with references from “Stop Stop” or the straightforward “Run Right Back.”

Or how about the chorus to “Nova Baby”: “All this love of mine / All my precious time / You waste it cause you / Don’t know what you want / Don’t know what you want”

After 30 or so listens, this finally makes sense, because sometimes you have to step outside a situation before you can see inside it. I’ve definitely been running right back to someone, and this is the longest I’ve gone without speaking to her in many months.

The situation comes with a mixed bag of emotions – a peace at the likely (if sad) resolution of the situation, and the lingering sadness at so many promising beginnings gone so wrong. I’ve missed her, and it’s strange not finding a random text or two each day from her. But I don’t miss the waffling, the missed connections or the days of silence that always followed our blissful days together. She made me happy; I suppose that’s why we kept pressing forward sometimes. She also made me very sad; I suppose that’s why there was darkness over much of my 2011.

I’m far from blameless. Maybe that was part of it, too – I wanted to make up for past wrongs. Simultaneously, she could never look past those wrongs.

Whatever the reasons, and whatever the circumstances that led us here, I finally understand why I love that album. God bless The Black Keys.

Changing numbers, charging ahead: A turning 30 playlist

This is surely a blog record – two posts in three days!

While the last post focused on the most important songs on my life, this one has a little different spin.

This one is more pointed, more up-to-the-minute topical and more about the state of my personal affairs as I turn 30.

So, how is that going?

I enter 30-dom the thinnest I have been in at least 10 years, the result of a year of heavy exercise and many miles running (I’m down about 15 pounds since my last birthday).

I enter my 30s with a solid group of friends, many of whom are out celebrating with me right now, doing something foolish (we’ll be at Chuck E. Cheese playing skiball when this post goes live).

I enter my 30s having recently completed a novel and with an idea for my second such project.

When I turned 25, I simultaneously started a quarter-life crisis. There were things I thought I needed or wanted then – family, a home of my own, a higher paying job, all of the things that comprise the stereotypical American Dream.

Not to say I lack desire for such things now. It’s just that in the interim, I’ve found that life doesn’t operate on a timetable. Things happen, or things don’t happen, and we deal with them either way. All the while, we can improve our position, if we so choose, and I feel like I’ve done that, with my writing and running and other self-improvement projects. I plan to continue those in 2012.

So, unlike when I turned 25, I feel like I’m tackling life with a bit more gusto, or with a running start, if you will.

This mixtape – with a Spotify link here – reflects that sentiment, I think. Sure, it has a few contemplative moments of confession (“Distraction #74) of things that have recently been on my mind and a subtle jab at my advancing age (“Old Man”) but most have a positive outlook. Others, such as (“Wake Up,” which I watched Arcade Fire perform live this summer in a truly thrilling moment), are even more of a call to arms.

To me, three songs anchor the feeling best. First is “Better Days” by Badfinger. That band’s flame burned quickly, and lost in the idea that they were to be the next Beatles, an appellation that similarly crushed a lot of bands, Badfinger made some really charming music. The song here, an album cut from the 1970 recording “No Dice,” is pretty straightforward: “Looking hard to see my way/A little time, a little trouble, better days.”

The second song is “I’m Not Down” by The Clash, from “London Calling.” Faithful readers – and faithful friends – know I struggled through 2011 on several levels. This mostly positive playlist comes on the heels of a pretty deep and long-lasting bout of depression. I would be stretching the truth if I said the positive vibe reflected here doesn’t come without a certain tenuousness. But that’s the exact motto of “I’m Not Down.” The entire, sneering chorus is worth reposting here: “I’ve been beat up, I’ve been thrown out/But I’m not down, I’m not down/I’ve been shown up, but I’ve grown up/And I’m not down, I’m not down.

And, the last of that trifecta is “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” by Elton John, from his absolutely underrated album “Honky Chateau.” The world rushes by us, Elton and co-writter Bernie Taupin muse, but it’s nice to find solace in friendships.

Speaking of friends, I’m out with a big group of them right now, probably throwing back a pint. I appreciate all of the friends I’ve made and many that I have lost in these past 30 years.

1) Distraction #74 – The Avett Brothers

2) I Saw the Light – Spoon

3) Long Distance Runaround – Yes

4) My Generation – The Who

5) Keep on Growing – Derek & The Dominoes

6) All Things Must Pass – George Harrison (my Spotify substitute is a cover by Yim Yames – Jim James of My Morning Jacket – because the service doesn’t have the original)

7) First Light – My Morning Jacket

8) Slow Show – The National

9) Just Couldn’t Tie Me Down – The Black Keys

10) Better Days – Badfinger (another song Spotify does not possess)

11) Old Man – Neil Young

12) Lucky – Radiohead

13) I’m Not Down – The Clash

14) The Ballad of El Goodo – Big Star

15) Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters – Elton John

16) Won’t Be Home – The Old 97′s

17) We Are Young – Fun. (featuring Janelle Monae)

18) Hold Your Head Up – Argent

19) Wake Up – Arcade Fire

The Greatest 30

For my 30th birthday (yes, that’s really happening), I decided to put together a list of the most important songs of my life.

There is a difference between “most important” and “best,” although there is certainly crossover between the two categories. Instead of making a list of my 30 true favorites – and really, how hard would it have been to narrow the list down – I’ve tried to find 30 songs, strung together chronologically, that tell my life story.

The songs that follow – and are also available via a Spotify list – follow below.

Toward the beginning, I’ve picked a few favorites from my youth, making a point to include a few favorite bands and my favorite songs from them. Many of those songs found their way to a mixtape I made about 10 years ago, and I know this because I can still play the first 5 tracks before the scratches take over

The rest? Well, I think you’ll get the hang of the list.

1) “All My Ex’s Live in Texas” – George Straight

I have no memory of this, but my mom tells me that when I was about five (which makes sense, considering this song was released in 1987) I use to run around the house and sing this song when it came on the radio. I enjoyed it enough they bought it for me as a single.

2) “Lazy” – Deep Purple

This song in particular was significant for me because I learned the power of the album cut via this track. I was lamenting to dad that I couldn’t find anything on the radio after an alt-rock station from the college town near us was taken over and turned into a pop channel. He responded by pulling out some 8 tracks, including “Machinehead” by Deep Purple. That’s the album that contains “Smoke on the Water,” but Deep Purple was always much better than that song alone. This one caught my attention immediately, and it’s held it since.

3) “Dazed and Confused” – Led Zeppelin

4) “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” – The Beatles

5) “Paint it Black” – The Rolling Stones

6) “Us and Them” – Pink Floyd

I had a particular fascination with British-made classic rock. I still do, I guess. These were four of my favorite bands – still are, I guess – and my favorite tune from each. P.S. Some saw themselves as a John Lennon person. Some saw themselves as a little more Paul McCartney. Me? I always wanted to be George Harrison.

7) “Almost Cut My Hair” – Crosby, Stills & Nash

I don’t know why – other than it’s a great song – but this tune became an anthem for my friend Clint and I. We would go out on fishing trips together and listen to this song. We’d also request it on late night classic rock radio while we were sitting around drinking beer, but no one ever played it except us.

8) “Free Bird” – Lynyrd Skynyrd

Skynyrd, and this song in particular, takes a lot of bashing from hipsters. But that three-guitar attack is formidable, and I’ve been cranking this song up for years. Also, there’s the connection to my dad. He loves Skynyrd and has all of their records on vinyl. He loves them enough that he obliges, while singing along, when Ronnie Van Zant yells “turn it up” at the beginning of “Sweet Home Alabama.” I always think about dad when I hear a Skynyrd song.

9) “Behind Blue Eyes” – The Who

I was a late bloomer on The Who, which is strange because I loved a lot of other British classic rock. But this song always catches me, and I can tell you that when I saw Roger Daltrey sing it live in a solo setting a few years ago, it was a powerful, powerful moment.

10) “The Sounds of Silence” – Simon & Garfunkel

I was a little late to find Simon & Garfunkel, too, probably because they didn’t play them often on the classic rock radio station I grew up listening to. They were too soft, I guess. But I started branching out a bit from radio-format classic rock and for good measure. To this day, I can still name the artist, song and album of almost every song played on classic rock radio in less than 5 seconds, and really, it’s usually closer to 2 seconds or two notes. Don’t believe me? Ask Clint, my classic rock buddy. Or ask some of the ex-girlfriends I use to annoy with my skills. The word skills used loosely here, of course. Also, this song, I think, summarizes depression pretty well. And, if you’ve known me for a while, you know that’s something I’ve struggled with throughout the years.

11) “The Man in Black” – Johnny Cash

Johnny Cash was one of my dad’s dad’s favorite artists. I have a lot of Grandpa’s vinyl records of Johnny Cash. I think of Grandpa when I listen to Johnny Cash.

12) “Comedown” – Bush

The first album I bought with my own money? That would be “Sixteen Stone” by Bush. I heard them called the British version of Nirvana, but that was lost on me because I really didn’t know who Nirvana was at the time. I even bought a shirt that featured the album cover from “Sixteen Stone.”

13) “Long Way There” – Little River Band

The first concert I went to was a double bill of Little River Band and Bad Company, except the promoters couldn’t call them ‘Bad Company’ because of some sort of pending lawsuit with Paul Rodgers. I think they said, “And here’s the band that needs no introduction.” Paul Rodgers wasn’t the singing that day, that’s for sure. I went with my friend Dustin and his mom. Little River Band was the opening act. I remember liking them better than Bad Company. However, if I remember correctly, we had to leave Bad Company early because we had to be at school the next day.

14) “Holy Roller Novocaine” – Kings of Leon

I have the first Kings of Leon EP. Not just the first record. The first EP, released in 2003 before anybody knew who they were. “Holy Roller Novocaine” is on that EP, and it also made their first record, “Youth and Young Manhood.” I got lucky when asked to write about entertainment for my college newspaper – I didn’t know anything about pop culture. But I trashed Metallica’s “Saint Anger” album and all of the sudden I got asked to write more entertainment stories. Soon, I had a stack of albums on my desk, including this EP. I really still like it, actually. But more so than anything else, it wowed me: I had a review copy of something. It was music that practically no one had listened to yet (this was before the days of rampant song leaks). It solidified that I wanted to continue to write about music. And, almost 10 years later, I still do.

15) “Ball and Biscuit” – The White Stripes

This is another of those albums I got early. I didn’t really know some of their earlier works, like the excellent “De Stijl,” but I would learn quickly. I had a reputation as a tough critic, and if I’m not mistaken, this was the first album I ever awarded an ‘A’ grade to as a journalist. I stand by that assessment to this day. Later, I would see The White Stripes live on the tour that promoted “Elephant,” and the highlight of that set was definitely this song, which allows Jack White to do what he does best – play some awesome, dirty blues guitar.

16) “Oh, Sweet Nothin’” – The Velvet Underground

One of the other things that solidified my desire to be a journalist was the festive and fun environment we created in our collegiate newsroom. We would play vinyl records, including this one, “Velvet Underground & Nico,” and play Rock ‘Em, Sock ‘Em Robots. No newsroom has ever been so fun.

17) “Rockin’ in the Free World” – Neil Young

I could have picked one of many Neil Young songs – I love so many of them – but this one stands out for a couple reasons. It taught me a lot as a writer. In college, I was able to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. In it was a copy of the original lyrics to this song. What I remember most about them was the scratch marks Young made on it – he’d changed his mind on the lyrics after starting it. To think that a song I can sing every word to could have been different. Then, in one of the concert highlights of my life, I got to see Buffalo Springfield perform live. As an encore, Young played this song.

18) “Always on My Mind” – Willie Nelson

I went to a concert while I was still in college to see Bob Dylan. Willie Nelson opened. I was familiar with Willie, of course, but I went to see Mr. Zimmerman. Well, if you know anything about a Dylan live show, you know he’s awful. He mumbles, he changes song structures, all of it. Meanwhile, Willie Nelson won my heart that night. He plays guitar so well, and he sings so earnestly. I’ve watched him live twice since. He made me a lifelong fan.

19) “I’m the man who loves you” – Wilco

About the time I started learning about music that wasn’t on the radio or on an album by a band who was, I started expanding into different directions. And while, technically speaking, Wilco isn’t THAT far removed from Kings of Leon, the first time I played “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” made me ashamed of my previous failures at music explorations. It was so good, so fresh, so melodic.

20) “River” – Split Lip Rayfield

Since that fateful concert with Little River Band and (semi) Bad Company, I’ve watched in excess of 1200 live shows. I’m trying not to exaggerate. 10 years, at the rate of two shows per week… that’s 1,000. I also go to a couple festivals a year, and it’s not uncommon to see 30+ acts during a weekend at one of those. Of all those bands over the years, I’ve seen none of them with more regularity than Split Lip Rayfield. I think I’m on concert No. 16. Part of that is circumstance – they play at a couple of local festivals, and I always go to them. I see them a couple times each festival. But, part of it is how good they are. I think “River” showcases a lot of what they can do – light speed playing, harmony and tight songwriting.

21) “Transatlanticism” – Death Cab for Cutie

Death Cab is another of those bands that have followed me around throughout the years. I’ve watched them four times in four different states – Missouri, Washington D.C., Tennessee and Texas. I remember having a copy of “Transatlanticism” the album before I went to that first show, which took places in one of my favorite concert venues in the country, D.C.’s 9:30 Club. They played almost all of the album, and they charmed me from beginning to end. My love affair with them hasn’t stopped, as I just saw them this summer, some 8 years after that first show.

22) “Hysteria” – Muse

Best concert of my entire life? There are a lot of possibilities, including a show by The Roots in Arkansas, one by Rush in Kansas City, Mo., with my dad and a Radiohead festival set at Bonnaroo. I tip my hat to Muse, however, for a 2005 (or somewhere around there) show at the Uptown Theater in Kansas City. I went with my best friend Doug. We had a couple of their albums, and we’d heard they were a good live act. I turned to Doug before and said something like “Can they really be as good as their album?” About 10 minutes later, Matthew Bellamy came sliding across the stage in a suit while playing the opening guitar solo to “Hysteria” and the show began. After they thundered through that song, Doug turned back to me and said “What do you think now?” We both knew the answer, of course. To this day, Doug swears this show caused him permanent hearing damage.

23) “Run Thru) – My Morning Jacket

My Morning Jacket is another of those bands that taught me music doesn’t have to be on the radio to be good. I remember having a copy of “It Still Moves” and thinking I needed everybody in the world to have a copy of that record. It’s a rare mixtape I make that doesn’t include one of their tracks. This song, in particular, reminds me of my first music festival – Bonnaroo 2006 – and the first time I was able to see them live. Their set started at midnight, and they played until 3:30 a.m. I had danced from about 10 a.m. to 2 a.m., and I actually had to lay down in the grass, too exhausted to move. My festival buddy, Dan, had already retired to the tent for much the same reason. Then, toward the end of their set – I think it was their last song, actually – they fired up a 10-plus minute version of this monster. It starts slow, but I knew where it goes from there, so I roused myself up in time for the bass solo mania that comes in about halfway through the track. I danced a little bit more. Much for that memory, I’ve included a live cut of the track on my mixtape.

24) “I Summon You” – Spoon

I was a late adopter to Spoon, too. If I’m not mistaken, it may have been on the trip to Bonnaroo that Dan, my music guru, made me listen to “Gimme Fiction.” The band has been somewhat hit-or-miss since then, but this song is just about perfect. It starts with the following phrase: “Remember the weight of the world is the sound that we use to buy/On cassette and 45s” and then dives into a request for an unknown, perhaps nonexistent lover. My heart, on the days that I decide I have one, knows exactly what they mean.

25) “Reckoner” – Radiohead

Of course this list would have Radiohead on it, right? There were so many to choose from: “Lucky,” “Nice Dream,” “Paranoid Android,” etc.  But I fell hard for Radiohead right before “In Rainbows” came out. Really hard. I had just watched them perform at Bonnaroo, including a preview of a couple tracks, but this song from the album version just cut right through me. It also reminds me of an ex-girlfriend I was quite fond of at the time. We watched the movie “Choke” together, and this song is in the soundtrack.

26) “November Blue” – The Avett Brothers

If you doubt the power the Avett Brothers have over me, know this: I don’t cry often, but hearing this song performed live at a festival made me weep openly and in public. When I finally looked up (I was ashamed at my tears) I noticed some other misty eyes in the crowd. The combination of haunting harmony and lost love was too much for me, and apparently, a few others. They’ve made some corny songs in their recent history (hello, “Kick Drum Heart”) but about once an album, they hit an emotional spot so true it’s hard to keep your breath.

27) “The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid” – The Decemberists

I think the only time a girl has ever asked me out, ever, was a night when someone drove me to Tulsa and took me to a concert by The Decemberists. We sang and danced and held each other close. The band was in the middle of its “The Hazards of Love” tour, which saw them play the album from start to finish. It almost feels unfair to pull a song out of that context, but isn’t that what this whole mixtape is doing? Anyway, this song is poignant, and a fond memory of a fond time in my life.

28) “The Sun is Shining Down” – JJ Grey and Mofro

Another gem gleaned from the festivals I’ve gone to, JJ Grey and Mofro capture electricity. Between their swamp funk, guitar solos, horn sections and enthusiasm, it’s hard not to enjoy them. This one, in particular, I play when I need a pick-me-up. It borders on gospel, but it never comes in danger of being overwrought. Just a beautiful tune.

29) “Heart it Races” – Dr. Dog

Of all the shows I’ve seen on repeat in Fayetteville (we seem to be stuck on about a nine-month loop here), one of the most consistently entertaining is Dr. Dog. This particular song, “Heart it Races,” isn’t even theirs – it’s a cover of an Architecture in Helsinki song. But they do it better, I think, with their psychedelic folk take. Likewise, this song reminds me of a girl. We use to sit around the house, cook for each other and listen to Dr. Dog. The last time I went to see Dr. Dog, we were together, and we spent the night dancing and singing. The last time they were in town, I decided I couldn’t see them again for fear of the memories.

30) “Runaway” – The National

When I heard The National for the first time, it was like I was run over by a somber, mildly depressing truck. These guys spoke my language. Since my introduction to them via the album “The Boxer,” I’ve bought each of their albums on the day they arrived commercially and watched them live in concert. This track, in particular, says so much. Sometimes, we’ve just got to throw our hands in the air and go for things, regardless of consequences.