Best of 2009

I have to admit that I don’t like making year-end lists. First, I’m lazy. I can’t remember what the hell I listened to last month, forget last March. Second, I think the idea of actually naming the “best” albums of the year is a bit dramatic. Do we really need a bunch of opinionated music fans/critics claiming they know what is “best”? Really? (Ed Note: Yes, yes we do.)

All I can do is tell you about a few albums, perhaps a few songs, that I enjoyed listening to this year. Take it for what it is. (Third, I don’t really “follow” everything going on in music as the year goes by, so as I always listen to “older” music, I may have to include it as part of my “best” of 2009.)

Two more things: First, I love songs. Especially ones I can sing along to. Direct songs. What can I say: I’m a simple man. Second, I spent a lot of time hanging out with Vermont musician/composer Michael Chorney this year, so his name pops up a few times.

So, now that you understand me utterly and completely:

It Disappears by Seth Eames & Michael Chorney

Michael gave me a copy of this in the cold months of early spring, right around the time my stepfather had a severe stroke. I drove I-89 and I-91 a lot during that time, and I can say these stripped-bare recordings with Seth Eames’ world-weary lyrics and vocals were a perfect soundtrack to those damp, gray days. A perfect album for imperfect times.

“The Way It Will Be” by Gillian Welch & David Rawlings

A recommendation from Mr. Chorney, who kept talking about this unreleased Gillian and David song that sounded like something off Neil Young’s On the Beach. In the best of the available videos on YouTube, David and Gillian lock into one of their infamously slow, dirge-like acoustic-guitar rhythms, then start singing in beautiful, haunting unison. Dave Rawlings has an uncanny ability to sing behind Gillian in a way that you’re not even sure he’s there; his voice is more like light on a table or a ghost hovering near her. The chorus has one of the best lines I heard all year: “The way you made it, that’s the way it will be.”

Hadestown by Anais Mitchell

Anais Mitchell’s folk opera Hadestown has grown up a lot over the last few years. It started as a stage production playing rooms in Vermont like the Barre Opera House and Vergennes Opera House. The songs were catchy, the acting honest, and the orchestra, Michael Chorney’s Magic City, lent a funky, expansive drive to the musical numbers. The rough mixes of the forthcoming Hadestown album are a completely different animal: With vocals by Bon Iver, Ani DiFranco, and Greg Brown, and a band that includes some of Brooklyn’s finest jazz musicians, the album has drama, drive, and a musical sophistication that prove Anais Mitchell is far more than a folksinger. It’ll either blow up in 2010 or become a criminally underappreciated classic.

Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear

I tend to ignore a lot of hype about flawlessly dressed bands of skinny white hipsters from Brooklyn and all their ultra-smart indie pop. That doesn’t mean I should. It’s just jaded foolishness. But I was curious about Veckatimest, so I bought it on vinyl. At first, I didn’t get it. It didn’t grab me. But then I moved into a new house, set up my turntable, and started listening to the vinyl instead of the files. Suddenly the rhythmic interplay between the acoustic guitar and drums demanded attention. (“Idiot!”) The understated drama of the lead vocals pulled me in. The harmonies killed. (“Oooh!”) I was hooked. I’ve turned more friends on to this album in the last few months than any other this year. And all I had to do was play it. It’s was 100% the “I’m now going to sell five copies of Three E.P.s by The Beta Band” scene from High Fidelity. No one had even heard of Grizzly Bear before hearing them. If you want to sell records, track two, “Two Weeks,” is the one to play over and over.

“Temezcal” by Monsters of Folk

I didn’t really get into the Monsters of Folk album. The idea, of course, was great: put Connor Oberst (Bright Eyes), Jim James (My Morning Jacket), M. Ward (She & Him), and Mike Mogis together and you get the folk-rock supergroup of the decade. But I found the album hard to get into. It had that feeling of three distinct talents and a producer all bringing songs, each of which ends up sounding like the records each guy makes without the other guys in the band. But then I found a YouTube video of the quartet playing Oberst’s “Temezcal” with M. Ward singing lead vocals. His deep, echo-enhanced vocal has crags and valleys of dark mystery that match the lyrics perfectly, making this the best song the band recorded for the album—but didn’t release.

Demo2009 by Surprise Me Mr. Davis

I’ve been waiting for this album ever since the band recorded it with Brett Hughes in Burlington’s own Old North End in the summer of 2008, after singer/songwriter Nathan Moore was turned away at the U.S.-Canada border. (They don’t let felonious musicians into Canada, apparently.) A collection of songs the band wrote in spring 2008, this record has sweat stains on its shirt and grit under its fingernails; it’s evidence of four guys who have been on the road constantly for well over a decade hitting their collective stride and writing some of the best songs of their careers. The biggest surprise and delight is Brad Barr showing some old-school, Sam-Cooke-style pop-love on “That’s the Way.” It’s my favorite song right now.

Phish’s performances at Bonnaroo

I grew up listening to Phish, just like a lot of kids did, during the mid-90s. They turned me onto so many things—bluegrass, country, jazz, doo-wop, Zappa, fusion, the use of tension, release, and humor in music, and most importantly, improvisation. (I was a shut-in until ’93.) What that really means is they taught me how to listen. I’m not the most rabid of Phish fans, and I hadn’t seen the band since their unfortunate implosion at Coventry in 2004. But I can say that after dozens of artists perform at Bonnaroo—from Allen Toussaint to Nine Inch Nails to Merle Haggard to Of Montreal—I can say that Phish’s two nights on the main stage were a master-class in live performance that every artist should have been invited to.

As far as I know, there is not one band that has taken 20th-century music in its many forms, listened to it, learned how it works, and put all of that knowledge to work to create something new and unique the way Phish has. And I am certain there is no band that can improvise as freely, while keeping the music accessible, as Phish does. Though many folks may not think of them this way, they’re the world’s most popular experimental band. They use American pop and folk music forms to launch into fearless group improvisation, creating new music in the moment in a way that makes tens of thousands of people feel something extraordinary. They feed the mind easily as much as the body. I won’t deny their shortcomings, but I know they should be seen as one of the most vital, innovative electric bands playing American music today.