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 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

Justin Townes Earle | official website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon

I write this post from a strange and distant land: I am currently visiting the frozen, sunless wilderness known as Canada. Specifically, I am in Lake Louise, a gorgeous glacial lake nestled in the Canadian Rockies.

Despite the weak dollar, I recommend all Americans venture north of the border at least once before passing judgment upon their quirky neighbors. Canada truly is a unique place, not a “frozen, sunless wilderness” (at least not all the time).

On top of all the natural beauty, Canada also has a pretty amazing music scene. As many of you probably know, several popular indie rock bands call Canada home, including The New Pornographers, Wolf Parade, and The Arcade Fire.

What you may not know, however, is that Canada also hosts a solid alt country/folk scene. Canadianicana, if you will. This regional mix highlights a few of my favorite artists.

JULIE DOIRON | official website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon

Blessed with an amazingly expressive voice, Julie Doiron plays music that reminds me of early Cat Power (which is, coincidentally, my favorite Cat Power): dark and moody, somber and bluesy. Doiron’s best tracks feature just her voice, an electric guitar, and maybe some drums. Goodnight Nobody is my favorite album, though I have yet to explore her extensive catalog in depth.

mp3: Julie Doiron - Snow Falls In November

KATHLEEN EDWARDS | official website | MySpace | Insound | Amazon

Kathleen Edwards (unfairly) had some big shoes to fill. After discovering (and becoming obsessed with) Sera Cahoone, I desperately tried to find similar female singer-songwriters to satisfy my insatiable appetite for quiet, thoughtful Americana. Luckily, I stumbled upon Kathleen Edwards. A little feistier than Cahoone, Edwards’ music is also more emotionally charged. The track posted below, however, is one of her mellower songs. To get a more complete taste of Edwards’ style, check out a stunning acoustic version of “Asking For Flowers” at Amazon (it’s free - download it here).

mp3: Kathleen Edwards - Goodnight, California

HAYDEN | official website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon

Lyrics tend to take center stage on Hayden’s albums. Consider, for example, the following excerpt: “Women adored me / For the sad look in my eyes / Now they ignore me / For getting on with my life.” Simply amazing. And the music usually keeps pace. It’s been fun delving into some of Hayden’s older material; he has definitely matured and mellowed with age. The track posted below is off his latest album In Field & Town, which is his most concise and consistent to date.

mp3: Hayden - Damn This Feeling

JUSTIN RUTLEDGE | official website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon

Justin Rutledge is an underrated singer-songwriter from Toronto. Though his latest album sometimes veers into the dangerous land of adult contemporary, his debut album No Never Alone is spectacular. Listening to “1855″ makes me wish I could travel back to a more simple time. And “Alberta Breeze” may very well be the theme song to my vacation.

“Now I try to keep a steady hand / ‘Cause I’m living in a shaky land / Lord I try to be an honest man / But it’s tougher than I ever planned”

mp3: Justin Rutledge - 1855
mp3: Justin Rutledge - Alberta Breeze

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

Last night was, in a word, amazing. Simply amazing. One of those experiences that rejuvenates your soul and makes the daily grind seem almost tolerable. My previous encounter with this feeling came a year ago when I saw Menomena at the Independent (and probably also this past winter while snowboarding).

Last night Sera Cahoone and Grand Archives played at Slim’s in San Francisco and it was easily one of the best concerts I’ve seen. Both acts were exceptional. Sera opened the show with a set that couldn’t have been more perfect. Highlights included “Only As the Day Is Long,” “Baker Lake,” “Happy When I’m Gone,” “Couch Song,” and an incredible version of “You’re Not Broken.” Her vocals were spot-on and her backing band equally impressive (especially the guy on lap steel).

Following her set, she sat at the merch table and chatted with fans. I asked her to sign my copy of Only As the Day Is Long and happily purchased a t-shirt from her. I hope she starts headlining shows in the future. She is a phenomenal musician and songwriter.

It took me a little while to come down from my Cahoone-induced high, but when I did, I found myself in the middle of the Grand Archives’ set. I honestly would’ve been happy if they played “Sleepdriving” and nothing else, but I actually enjoyed some of their other songs more, especially “Torn Blue Foam Couch,” “George Kaminski,” and a raucous version of “Crime Window.” The true highlight, however, was a duet version of “Louis Riel” featuring Sera Cahoone and Mat Brooke.

The show ended around 11:30pm but I wanted more. Unfortunately, this was the last stop of their tour, so I can’t tell you to go see them for yourself. Which is a true shame because they all looked like they were having a great time playing together. Instead of catching them live, I recommend reading my previous posts (here and here), downloading the songs below, and purchasing their albums if you enjoy. And then hope they decide to tour together again in the future.

mp3: Sera Cahoone - Only As the Day Is Long
mp3: Sera Cahoone - Happy When I’m Gone
mp3: Grand Archives - Sleepdriving
mp3: Grand Archives - Torn Blue Foam Couch

Grand Archives | official website | MySpace | Insound | Amazon
Sera Cahoone | official website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon

The city of Seattle has long been a hotbed of music and culture. And it’s easy to see why. During my brief 3 day visit last summer, I completely fell in love with the city and its many vibrant neighborhoods.

But this was skewed picture. The weather, usually overcast and dreary, was sunny and warm when I visited. In other words, not your typical Seattle experience. The contrast between the ephemeral beauty of summer and seemingly permanent bleakness of the other seasons can explain, at least partially, the type of music that emanates from the city.

Back in the 90’s, Seattle more or less gave birth to grunge music. Today, it is home to the Sub Pop record label and some of indie rock’s most influential bands.

Consider, for example, Carissa’s Wierd. Formed in Seattle in 1995, the band recorded three albums before splitting in 2003. Members included Mat Brooke, Jenn Ghetto, Ben Bridwell, Sarah Standard, and Sera Cahoone. Together, they created some of the most uplifting slowcore music ever recorded, accented by Sarah Standard’s phenomenal violin playing. Their songs are consistently sad, but also incredibly beautiful, in many ways mirroring Seattle’s climate.

Since the band’s split in 2003, Mat Brooke and Ben Bridwell created the band Nov. 16 before changing its name to Band of Horses. Jenn Ghetto formed the band S and Sera Cahoone started a solo career. Later, Mat Brooke left Band of Horses to front Grand Archives.

Despite these different directions, the former members of Carissa’s Wierd have maintained their distinct Seattle sound. And while the reunion of these insanely-talented musicians might be a dream come true, it’s also fun to watch where they go on their own.

The following Regional Mix samples only some of the fallout from Carissa’s Wierd. I have yet to listen to anything released by S and Sera Cahoone doesn’t really fit the mood (though she is amazing nonetheless). Despite these omissions, I hope you enjoy the mix!

1. mp3: Carissa’s Wierd - The Color That Your Eyes Changed With the Color of Your Hair
2. mp3: Carissa’s Wierd - All Apologies and Smiles, Yours Truly, Ugly Valentine
3. mp3: Carissa’s Wierd - Fluorescent Lights
4. mp3: Carissa’s Wierd - Some Days Are Better Than Others
5. mp3: Nov. 16 - I’d Like to Think
6. mp3: Band of Horses - I Go to the Barn Because I Like the
7. mp3: Band of Horses - Monsters
8. mp3: Grand Archives - Sleepdriving

As usual, a zip file containing all 8 songs is provided here. Also, Grand Archives (supported by Sera Cahoone) are currently on tour. I highly recommend seeing them if they visit a city near you! I know I will!

Carissa’s Wierd | MySpace | Insound | Amazon
Band of Horses | official website | MySpace | Insound | Amazon
Grand Archives | official website | MySpace | Insound | Amazon

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

So for those of you who still read my blog, I’d like to get some honest feedback.

Given the four options, which do you prefer?

More mp3’s and fewer words.
More words and fewer mp3’s.
No change, just post more frequently.
No change, keep on trucking!

View Results

Any additional feedback (beyond picking a number) is more than welcome. I’m starting to wonder if this is all worth it…

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 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.

Bon Iver | official website | MySpace | eMusic | Insound | Amazon

I’m a total sucker for epic (7+ minute) album closers. Actually, you might even say I’m a sucker for epic songs in general. Not, however, extended “stoner” jam sessions where every instrument under the sun gets its own two-minute solo. You know what I’m talking about.

There’s definitely a fine line: some songs need more time to evolve and expand while others just sound bloated and self-indulgent. Songs that fall into the former category include “Cortez the Killer” by Neil Young, “The Trapeze Swinger” by Iron & Wine, “Duk Koo Kim” by Sun Kil Moon, “Mogwai Fear Satan” by Mogwai (obviously), “Oh Comely” by Neutral Milk Hotel, “Desolation Row” by Bob Dylan, and, why not, “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin. Just to name a few.

So how do you make an epic song even better? Put it at the end of an album. For example: My Morning Jacket’s “Strangulation!” and “Dondante,” Built to Spill’s “Broken Chairs,” and Gillian Welch’s “I Dream a Highway.”

You can add Robert Francis’ epic “All of My Trains” to this list. Like Deer Tick, Francis is an insanely-talented young singer-songwriter (albeit with slightly less buzz). Hailing from Los Angeles, he sounds nothing like his surroundings. Actually, he doesn’t even sound like he’s from this century.

His music exudes both innocence and angst, hope and despair. His debut One By One is an earnest, introspective, timeless folk record that will undoubtedly be cherished by those lucky enough to stumble upon it.

mp3: Robert Francis - All of My Trains

Robert Francis | official website | MySpace | iTunes | Insound | Amazon