learning love songs

est. 2008


Sufjan Stevens


It’s that time of year again.

The beginning. Which also means the end.

I’m particularly at ease as I sit down to write this list this year. It’s the kind of thing that’s an annual source of self-inflicted stress. While the AOTY list is a list that anyone who fancies themselves any kind of music “expert” or “critic” must be able to accomplish, I dread the work that it requires to reflect, write, compile. This year, though, it wasn’t hard to find a free moment and begin typing. I knew most of this in my head, I had considered it several weeks before when I knew January was creeping closer. I kept a running Post-It list and refreshed my ears with a Spotify playlist. And I’m excited to put it out there, all this music that has meant so much to me.

2015, perhaps more than any other year in my adulthood, carried more emotional trials than I could have anticipated. I dealt with heartbreaks I could not predict. I faced fears I had been running from since I was an adolescent. I let people in. I let go. I ran farther, wrote faster and kissed harder than ever before. I gave up bad habits and picked up better ones, and I picked myself off the floor. I found surrender, I found self-love, I found the freedom and lightness a human can attain when you break your mind out of the fences of expectation, and now it is 2016, and I find myself still fighting for all of this, but with degrees of anticipation and confidence and the good kind of nerves, and I am encouraged. Most people reading this do not know most things about me; most people do not know most things about anyone, least of all strangers on the Internet, but if you are reading these words right now you can probably gather that that my lifeline (as it is maybe for you too) through all of this in life is music.

10) If I Should Go Before You – City and Colour

A late-year release that continues to captivate me, I didn’t fully realize the brilliance of these songs until I had the chance to hear them live. And then I heard what I should’ve the first time – sweeping, elegant rock songs, with a timeless, bluesy feel, and Dallas Green’s sorrowful interpretations of life and love. From the opening bars of the dark, groovy “Woman,” you can tell this a record that uses the best of ingredients in the rock band pantry – heavy rhythm section, masterful solos, top notch vocals and hook-filled choruses. But mostly what I love about this record is how the sentimentality still steals the show.

Bound for trouble from the start
I’ve been walking through this old world in the dark
All along right by my side
There you were shining, my ray of light 

~Lover Come Back

9) Permanence – No Devotion

When the day started to drag, when the week started to feel dull, this was the record to play to pick it up again. An indie favorite among a certain post-emo scene, the kind who might still care who Geoff Rickly is, the No Devotion record encapsulates a sound that’s both reminiscent of a past era and somehow still trendy, walking one of my favorite lines. I love how synth-pop permeates the guitar parts, how new wave that sound is, matched with dark chords and stirring harmonies at the high-end of Rickly’s vocal range. This record surprised me by how much I liked it, how fun it was to listen to, and also how unseen it was given its overall depth compared to acts in the same kind of genre. 

Ten thousand summers
Cannot replace what we lost when you went away
Ten thousand summers
In the grass
And though it’s getting dark
Remember this will pass

~10,000 Summers

8)Carrie and Lowell – Sufjan Stevens

So many Sufjan fans fell by the wayside when his grand plans for a 50-album, 50-state spree stopped after two, myself included, as “The Age of Ads” and his BQE tribute didn’t seem to have the same heart. But Stevens’ musical brilliance, and poetic truths, shone through this year in the most surprisingly stunning ballad collection, a heartfelt, intimate tribute the love and loss and pain and quiet, awkward, awesome moments that make up family. It’s just too beautiful. When I listen to this record, I feel like it’s OK to be curious and shy and passionate about the ones you love.

Do I care if I survive this, bury the dead where they’re found
In a veil of great surprises; hold to my head till I drown
Should I tear my eyes out now, before I see too much?
Should I tear my arms out now, I wanna feel your touch

~The Only Thing
7) Run Wild – Lydia

Another one that really surprised me by how much I wound up listening to it. Lydia was a band I got into purely by Pandora association, despite knowing they lurked somewhere in the mid-aughts emo scene I’m so fond of. Choosing to get into them shortly before this release was somewhat serendipitous but also somewhat misleading – the Lydia that existed 10 years ago isn’t the one that put out this radio-friendly, poptastic, shimmering party serenade. But I love it, oh how I love it, from the stammering chorus of “Follow You Down” to the wide-eyed dance rhythms of “Late Nights.” Something about this record set the tone for a light and breezy ride, no matter how dark and heavy I felt, no matter where I was going.

I don’t want to keep your heartache
And I don’t want to feel your ghost
And I don’t even know where we will go
Yeah, I’m just trying to make it home

~Late Nights

6) Pageant Material – Kacey Musgraves

There’s so much to love about this record, which is one of the sweetest, funniest, smartest offerings country music had to offer in 2015 and one of my favorite morning sing-a-longs. Kacey Musgraves has a strong wit, sharp tongue and killer voice, wrapped in an aw-shucks-stoner attitude that makes her songs so original and listenable and just overall delightful. Her take on gossipy neighbors and nosy friends shows a mature mindfulness that you’re more likely to read about on yogi websites than hear about in a country song, setting her apart from the usual heartbreak heroines. Musgraves is only two albums in but she’s only getting better – and more sure of herself, too, if the “Dime Store Cowgirl” anthem holds up.

I ain’t exactly Ms. Congenial
Sometimes I talk before I think,

I try to fake it but I can’t
I’d rather lose for what I am than win for what I ain’t

~Pageant Material

5) Peripheral Vision – Turnover

If ever there was a darker, dreamier record this past year, I hadn’t heard it. Turnover came out of nowhere, relatively, to put out one of the most outstanding LPs in the alt-indie scene, one that cut through stereotypes of bands in the genre and threw down a new standard for moody yet upbeat tracks. This record soundtracked many a lonely night, injecting a shot of needy hopelessness right when it was needed, but in the most melodic fashion. There’s a depth in production here that creates a really full sound, but still lets you pick out the guitar parts. So much delay!! And so cohesive, which is why I think it was so easy to listen to time and time again. “Peripheral Vision” is a tribute to the complications and anxieties in relationships, the kind that we all wish we could avoid, but if this is where the stumbles gets you, maybe it’s worth learning your way through.

Would you come here and spin with me?
I’ve been dying to get you dizzy,
Find a way up into your head
So I can make you feel like new again

~Dizzy on the Comedown

4) American Candy – The Maine

This one really sneaked up on me. I had never listened to The Maine before “American Candy.” What I discovered was the purest pop rock I’d heard since radio-friendly All-American Rejects tracks in high school, excellent parts and succinct playing. A perfect balance between light and dark, this record grapples with issues of anxiety and self-consciousness and stereotype better than any I’ve heard in ages, without being too obviously “fuck-the-man.” Why it’s not on other top 10s, I cannot say. Something this well-executed ought to be recognized – there isn’t a bad track on this record, and it never left my rotation since it came out in the first quarter of the year. In a scene jam-packed with releases, that’s not nothing.

Sometimes I feel as though I’m going mad when
I get a touch of saccharine on my lips
I hate the taste on my tongue too damn sweet
I don’t fancy american candy, american candy

~American Candy

3) Something More Than Free – Jason Isbell

This record contains my favorite song of the year, the one that I played on repeat the most, with the chorus that still brings tears to my eyes. I was so obsessed with this record when it came out, and while I listen to it less in full, I still think it’s one of the best showings of the year, with every track showing how timeless and tireless Jason Isbell’s sound is. While his breakthrough on “Southeastern” gave us all a taste of what he is capable of as a songwriter and introduced us to his own personal angels and demons, “Something More Than Free” gives us more of a look into how he sees the world and what matters in, things like working hard and loving true.

“You thought God was an architect, now you know
He’s something like a pipe bomb ready to blow
And everything you built that’s all for show goes up in flames
In 24 frames”

~24 Frames

2) Astoria – Marianas Trench

The top two were really hard for me this year to balance out, because they both hit me in the gut. So consider this almost a tie…and consider them both the kind that lived up to high expectations. Marianas Trench may not be a well-known act in most music circles, and that might be the biggest oversight in critical estimations. I think Josh Ramsay is a brilliant modern pop composer and if you disagree, I guess you’ve never heard a little song called “Call Me Maybe.” He is a production master – and he shines brightest in his own band, Marianas Trench, who write epic after epic after epic. This one might their strongest yet – clearly 80s inspired, and clearly heavy on the drama. But it’s tight as hell when it comes to hooks. How “One Love” isn’t tearing up the radio stations, I don’t know. In the past month or so since I bought this record I’ve listened to it almost every day, and it only gets better. It only cuts deeper. “Astoria” makes me smile, it makes me cry, it gives me shelter, it makes me a fighter. If ever there was a band that proved pop music as a genre exists beyond what’s on the charts, it’s Marianas Trench, and if there was any rock album in 2015 that lifted my heart to places I didn’t think it could still reach, it was “Astoria.”

“Don’t remind me what the price is when left to my own devices
‘Cause I’ll find out in all due time what happens to never say die”


1) No Closer to Heaven – The Wonder Years

When “The Greatest Generation” came out in 2013, I couldn’t help but think that this big-sounding, on-the-rise rock band from Philadelphia, my favorite active artist, had the makings of a voice of a generation. When “No Closer to Heaven” dropped this year, I knew that inkling was spot-on. Dan Campbell has turned his musings outward, and this record finds pondering the sick, sad world around us as much as his own place in it. The band followed its strengths with this record, and they’ve wound up with some of their best-ever songs, like “Cigarettes and Saints” and “Stained Glass Ceilings.” This is not a record for the faint of heart, as it has its fair share of thrashing and screaming, as well as some disturbed imagery, from car crashes to drug overdoses to gun violence. But in this aggression is a ferocious heart, one that refuses to quit, colored by drum rhythms for days and dueling guitar solos. To me, this is the essential combination for punk rock – an American critique offered by the minstrels of its lower middle class, and loud-as-fuck playing. But there’s something else that that phrase “punk rock” doesn’t quite capture, and that’s literary-level vocabulary, narrative-style scene setting and that particular brand of maturity that only comes from traveling to mental depths so low, and so dark, and surviving them. No one does it quite like The Wonder Years does, and no band ever will.

This god damn machine; hungry and heartless.
My whole generation got lost in the margin.
We put our faith in you. You turned a profit.
Now we’re drowning here under your waves.

~Cigarettes and Saints

Honorable mentions, for lack of enough listening to properly rank:
Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit – Courtney Barnett
Vitals – MuteMath
Traveler – Chris Stapleton
All Your Favorite Bands – Dawes
Dealer – Foxing
1989 -Ryan Adams (listened a lot, but didn’t feel quite right to rank. Best cover album of all time, tho, for sure.)

Past years:


So I’ve been all over the magazines and blogosphere lately, scrounging for the best of the best of the best lists. Not only is it the end of the year, it’s the end of a decade, the first of the new millennium. This is huge for us living through it. So as music journalists go, we must analyze, catagor-ize, figure out where the pieces of music fit in a grander scheme. Who started trends, who broke the molds, who went for it and got there, no sweat?

The differences in some of the lists are astonishing. I’ve yet to figure out what my personal favorites have been, but I’m pretty sure it aligns with Rolling Stone’s from what I’ve seen so far — no doubt Kid A as their #1 pick speaks to that. As for Paste, who chose Sufjan Steven’s Illinois album, I see where they’re coming from because it is so unbelievably musical, but I doubt the effect he had is nearly as reaching as Radiohead’s. Whatever that means. Additionally, many albums that personally changed my musical life were heard by a handful of die hard fans, like Lovedrug or Copeland or Circa Survive.

Also, from 2000-2009, I grew up from 11 to 21, most of the music I ingested WASN’T of the times. Zeppelin is still my gold standard of rock ‘n’ roll, and Bob Dylan is still a poet — this is music that is not OF the times, but still greatly affected me, a product of the generation. We can’t consider the times to be the only means that shape us — what comes before is just as relevant as what’s happening now in terms of music, at least. It is timeless. Such is the state of many of the records chosen by publications in their valiant listing efforts — timeless pieces of music that sum up a generational attitude, signify a shift in musical priorities and woo their audiences through a blend of new sound and honest surrender.

But we must give any of the list makers credit where credit is due. At a time when music kind of exploded into a billion little markets, it’s not easy to compare the works of seasoned artists against indie newcomers, wordsmithing rappers with guitar strumming folksters. Yet, they try, because how could we not take a look back?

Long live rock ‘n’ roll, so they once said. Freak folk, I’ve yet to see how long you’re gonna last, but it’s clear from these lists you made your mark. Emo, you came and went and your influence will be forever immortalized in MySpace mockery and swoopy haircuts. Bruce Springsteen, you still have not gone away, and that’s just fine with me.

Death Cab for Cutie, you rocked my world, and everyone else’s. “Plans” is the soundtrack of my decade, I’m pretty sure if I had to make a list it would be my number once choice. No album fits any mood better, no album reads my thoughts better, no album elicits as much personal imagery and emotion than that one. Given to me by my mother on my 17th birthday, which feels like so, so long ago, but wasn’t at all. I was wearing a peach-pink prom dress and a tiara, hadn’t even learned to play piano yet, and still longed to learn the opening notes of “What Sarah Said.” A year later that song would mean much more to me than I could know, and four years later “Marching Bands of Manhattan” rang in my ears as I slinked along, broke and alone the subways. “I Will Follow You Into The Dark” is an acoustic gift, “Summer Skin” fits every fall afternoon. I love “Plans,” and while “Transatlanticism” hooked me onto Death Cab in the first place, “Plans” has a more mature, thorough sound, and a different take on the thoughtful musing all musicians are prone to expose in the events of their life.

Anyway, lists:
Rolling Stone: 100 Best Albums of the Decade
Paste Magazine: The 50 Best Albums of the Decade
Pitchfork: The Decade in Music (enough material here for weeks of thoughtfulness)
NME: The Top 100 Greatest Albums of the Decade
Billboard: Artist picks of the decade video
Also, I am pretty much on board with Tom Morello’s picks, lots of good ones in there.

Click around and stroll down memory lane…..we’ve come a long way from 2000, and I can only imagine what sounds the next decade will come up with. Like TV, there’s bound to be the best of the best and the worst of the worst, depending on what channels you tune into. Depending who you talk to, and depending on your tastes. The past year, and the best-of-the-decade wrap-ups allude to the fact that the deep insight and musical mastery of Radiohead, Sufjan and their counterparts sings to the generation and its critics alike. That’s a positive sign, folks — no, auto-tune has not taken over good music, no, hook-y choruses and overproduced nonsense will not kill of the passionate pleas of musicians trying to say their piece. That will always make for the best of the best lists, those who take their craft as seriously as a carpenter takes their staircase. It must be aligned, it must be logical, it must have direction, and it must take you from one place to another. Such music will always, always prevail.


From an interview in ‘Explain:’

“I definitely feel like ‘What is the point? What’s the point of making music anymore?’ I feel that the album no longer has a stronghold or has any real bearing anymore. The physical format itself is obsolete; the CD is obsolete and the LP is kinda nostalgic. So, I think the album is suffering and that’s how I’ve always created– I work with these conceptual albums in the long-form. And I’m wondering, what’s the value of my work once these forms are obsolete and everyone’s just downloading music? And I’m starting to get sick of my conceptual ideas. I’m tired of these grand, epic endeavours, and wanting to just make music for the joy of making music and having it be immediate and nothing to do with the industry itself, which, y’know is suffering right now of course.

And I think it has to do with a creative crisis too. I’m wondering what am I doing? What is a song even? I’m questioning, what’s the point of a song? Is a song antiquated? Does it have any power any more? The format itself– a narrative song with accompaniment– is really beyond me now. Like, I feel that The BQE is not really a song, it’s not really a movie, it’s not really just a soundtrack. It’s so ambiguous and diversified, it seems to lack shape. And the expressway itself lacks shape, so I feel like it’s all related to this existential crisis: Me versus the BQE, or me versus my work, y’know? And I don’t think I can win; I feel like it’s a losing battle.”

It’s interesting, how no matter how valued your work is by total strangers, you can still feel like saying “well, fuck this.” He’s got an excellent concept of the album, and a good point about where it’s headed. But I feel as though his epic, in-depth creations are kind of a diamond in the full-length rough of the past decade, something worth noting.

Looking forward to BQE, especially because I miss the view.


Simple. To the point. Eloquent. Sufjan gets it right (and it was also used in an extremely emotional, pivotal moment on Nip/Tuck). And he’s touring this fall! Would love to see him, especially since he’s hitting up relatively intimate venues in New York.

“I was dressed embarrassment.
I was dressed in wine.
If you had a part of me, will you take you’re time?
Even if I come back, even if I die
Is there some idea to replace my life?
Like a father to impress;
Like a mother’s mourning dress,
If you ever make a mess, I’ll do anything for you.”

–For the Widows in Paradise, For The Fatherless in Ypsilanti
Greetings From Michigan, The Last Great State, Sufjan Stevens

(That is a lot of words.)


New Lovedrug has more Cursive-like tendencies than anything else. The songs are really meticulously composed and arranged, not scared of weird and ugly chords but fully embracing them. I love themm.

-and they’re touring with Copeland!

That’d be a show to catch. Copeland played great live, but I’d LOVE to hear Lovedrug.

I really might just have to figure out a way to go that show in New York with both Lovedrug and Copeland and Lydia, who I’ve heard of and been told I would like but haven’t heard yet. I really want to hear Copeland play off of “Eat, Sleep, Repeat,” though, and hear Lovedrug do its new thing with “Sucker-Punch Show.” They kind of fascinate me with that record and how sort of off-the-wall it is, how intentionally sounding disturbed. I just want to see how it would sound and if they could play it with as much charm as the records have in their arranged appeal, as with “Eat, Sleep, Repeat.”

I’ve always really liked the song, “The Last Time He Saw Dorie,” and I was kind of weirded out when I found this:

though I fiercely wonder if that’s how they meant it. If so, Finding Nemo is way weirder that I thought.

Definitely my favorite type of popular music–the really well composed indie or emo or just straight up rock. Sufjan Stevens holds the crown there for me though. He just thinks so huge, but isn’t scared to have quiet moments, and just soooo many layers.

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