2000-2009 - Identification Code: Unidentified

2000-2009 - Identification Code: Unidentified - My decade in music.

Howzit goin?

Whazzap? I was so hip 10 years ago, when people said that! Whagguk? That's what they'll be sayin' in 10! You heard me! I'm right! I'm hip!

Hermm... Yes, well... Anyway...

Every year, I pick 80 minutes or less worth of music I've been listening to around that time and try to put it in a somewhat palatable shape. Then I set to boring the living hell out of you w/ my written reflections.

Here is my playlist for this decade. In it, I followed the same rules I follow for the annual lists. These are 1) The list can be no more than 80 minutes in length, so that it can be burnt to an audio CD and distributed to those poor souls who still listen to CDs; and 2) The songs included should represent the mostsignificant choices possible--not necessarily the best--'tho I do give preference to better songs, I've always tried to include some oddities or things I wasn't sure about, to keep things interesting and just to be safe. If there's one thing I've learned making these lists, it's that your feelings can change, even about something that seems very important--or trivial--to you at any given moment. Sometimes these things can even switch places.

I had 1 other rule for this decade's retrospective: that at least one song be drawn from each of the 10 lists. I chose only 1 song from 2009, but feel that's OK, since I don't have as much perspective about the music on that list. I haven't been living w/ it as long.

I worked on this list all year. I agonized, edited and wrote, all for something that's really just for myself. But that's OK. It's half the fun really. What wasn't fun though was cutting so many great songs! It pains me to exclude, say, Shannon Wright, whose music is so often overlooked and which I think is really beautiful, but at the end of the day, I was faced w/ 182 songs or 12 hours and 47 minutes worth of music. Something had to give.

Never mind that some artists that I love never made it onto 1 of these lists and therefore weren't eligible for inclusion at all. Just ask anyone who knows me at all if I've listened to Neil Young in the last 10 years. They will probably laugh at you. But he didn't make a single list.

Another tricky problem has been avoiding a stylistic quota system. I listen to heavy metal, but you'll find none of it here, which creates what seems like a skewed vision of what I've been doing for 10 years. I can't be sure that where I've included reggae or hip hop or jazz or any other genre--i.e., not rock/pop--that I haven't done so because I want to picture myself as a well-rounded person, but the truth is I love all this music, and I'm pretty sure there are no right choices. So I followed the logic William Burroughs once suggested: "if you can't be just, be arbitrary..."

(Format here is Song title - artist - album.)

1. Bicycle Built for 2 - Max Matthews - Early Modulations/Vintage Volts (2000):

At the beginning of 2000, my life was in a murky place. I'm not sure that the date had anything to do w/ it--2000 was also the year I turned 30--but I resolved to at least try to find some mental and emotional clarity. I love music. In my lowest moments, it sometimes keeps me feeling vaguely human. So I decided to look in that direction (as well as others). Naive as I am, I think I did understand that exploring electronic music was along the lines of exploring classical music--it's an enormous grouping that includes things that can be completely alien to one another. I was fortunate enough to stumble onto a 3-disc anthology called OHM: Early Gurus of Electronic Music. It served as an easy, compelling introduction to what still looks like a labyrinth, but one I now look forward to negotiating. This song, while relatively simple captures some of that feeling of newness, which made it seem like a good place to begin my consideration of the last 10 years I've spent listening to and thinking about music.

2. Laser Life - The Blood Brothers - Young Machetes (2006/2007): I've agonized over this list for about a year now. I held onto songs I loved like they were life preservers, trying to save their place on this list. From the beginning, I knew this song was guaranteed to make it for at least 1 reason: it's appeared on 2 different lists. There is only 1 other song that earned this distinction, Mudhoney's "Revolution," which is described below. In the case of that song, however, my decision to repeat the song was conscious. The repetition of "Laser Life" was an accident, so it must hold a special place in my heart. Its approach to rock n' roll is unique.

In '06, I wrote: "Guitar-based rock isn't dead! It's survived off in some corner where the Blood Brothers have been preserving it, as though they were monks during the Dark Ages."

In '07, I wrote: "I think the Blood Brothers are really keeping the rock & roll spirit alive. “Laser Life’s” got all this energy and, well, noise. Also it’s got a sense of humor, and that never hurts."

The Blood Brothers approach to making rock new wasn't just cerebral crap. And despite all of the band's wit, it didn't even seem to be overly self-conscious either. In the end, it was just a hell of a lotta fun.

3. Earth People - Dr. Octagon - Dr. Octagonecologyst (2003): I guess we're sticking w/ newness as a guiding concept here, and that's a fine way to go at the threshold of another decade. Kool Keith, a.k.a. Dr. Octagon, a.k.a. Dr. Dooom, a.k.a. Black Elvis, etc.... has done w/ hip hop what the Blood Brothers do w/ rock. He's established a very unique voice and backed it w/ strikingly ingenious music. His records turn on a dime from humor to menace in the denseness of its musical tracks and most of all through Keith's vocals, which spin bizarre, often hilarious images out into very catchy, very funky songs. At various points in my life, hip-hop has been more important to me than rock. Hard to believe there's only 1 hip hop track here, in fact, but that may reflect how sad it's been for me to watch what's happened to the music in the last decade--its transformation from vibrant, wildly inventive art to assembly-line thuggery. Unfortunately, this song is a throwback to the 90s itself, but it reminds me of how I used to feel about hip hop and gives me a little hope as to where the music may still go in the future.

4. Losing Touch with My Mind - Spacemen 3 - Taking Drugs to Make Music to Take Drugs to (2005): Well, if the Blood Brother thought they were special, then what about this? Over the past 10 years, Spacemen 3 are the only artists to appear 5 different playlists! That's a 50% of 'em! It seemed impossible not to include them here.

As to their music, which I've logged countless hours listening to, what can I say? Maybe my guitar teacher put it best, when he 1st heard it, and snickered that it was "luded out." If I was Spacemen 3, that's what I'd put in my press blurb. But they're the geniuses, not me. I mean, just listen to the buzzing, droning and mumbly vocals! If you're not ready to party now, you should check yr. pulse. You not be in a coma after all.

5. Revolution - Mudhoney - March to Fuzz/Rarities (2002/2008): In 1990, Mudhoney and Spacemen 3, 2 very different underground rock bands decided to release a single together. On one side, Mudhoney would cover a Spacemen 3 song of their choice, while on the other, Spacemen 3 would perform a Mudhoney song. The bands were supposed to admire one another, admired each other somewhat, and the resulting recording was supposed to be a helluva lotta inventive fun, if not an opportunity to broker some sorta epiphany re: the other band's work that they mightn't be able to see, due to the infamously treacherous relationship between the forest and the trees.

In an ideal world, I'd've included the choices the bands made in this playlist. Spacemen 3 selected Mudhoney's "When Tomorrow Hits" and did manage to produce a take that is far removed from the original, but finds a hypnotic core that foregrounds its spirit. It's ingenious and in its way, quite potent, as Mudhoney's Mark Arm has acknowledged.

Still, where Spacemen 3 is all about exploration and mood--Mudhoney is all about the fun--'tho there is some anger down there in the mix. Both lyrically, (e.g. the bizness in "Into Your Shtik," about "why don't you blow yr. brains out too?") and in the ferocity of the band's musical attack, which here is as vicious as it gets in their any of their music. They took a completely different approach by to the Spacemen 3 song, by finding some of the silliness in its heart and expressing it in satirical terms.

Which cover is "better?" Depends on yr. perspective. My own shifts from time to time w/ my moods, and unfortunately, you're not gonna be able to formulate an opinion based on what I have here--if you don't know the songs already. 'Tho Spacemen 3 made five appearances in these playlists, not a 1 of 'em was "When Tomorrow Hits!" You'd think I'd've tried harder, but then I always try to obey the dictates of the moment, when I set these things up, and maybe, the mood was just never right.

Mudhoney made three appearances, which is not too shabby, "Into Your Shtik," representing one go-around. The other 2 are the one song other than The Blood Brothers "Laser Life"--described above--to appear on 2 separate lists. This time, the repetition was conscious, which must mean I really like this song, as well--and inna an over-arching way, since 2002 and 2008 are pretty far removed from one another, both temporally, and in the nature of my circumstances and sensibilities at the time. 2002's list is relatively fresh n' open-eyed and alla that. 2008's, which featured Spacemen 3's version of "Revolution," as well, was a more impatient, even bitter, 'tho it did show some hope for better times musically. (And personally.)

My consideration of "Revolution" has run quite long, hasn't it? Still, I have to relate 1 more piece of information: however you feel about "Revolution," after giving it a listen, I can tell ya that Sonic Boom was not even a little amused nor appreciative. He publicly aired his displeasure in tones that made you wonder if he mightn't just throw a punch at any member of Mudhoney on sight. And well, isn't that an appropriately angry enactment of the way this stuff sounds?

6. Put a Little Love in Your Heart - Leonard Nimoy - Spaced out/The Best of Leonard Nimoy & William Shatner (2008): What I wrote about this song in 2008: HA! Hahaha!!! Ahooo... ahuh... huuhh... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

Couldn't have said it better myself.

7. Death Defying Nutter Butter - The Silky Underthings - What? (2005): I've written a lot about the Silky Underthings. It's difficult to know what else to say that doesn't sound ridiculously superlative. Their music really is intense, alive and visionary--everything that music should be.

8. The Stars of Amateur Hour - The Reputation - The Reputation (2003): I've written even more about the sadly defunct Chicago power pop band The Reputation than I have about the Silky Underthings. Led by my heroine, the great Elizabeth Elmore, they bombarded you w/ some of the most shamelessly piquant, shamelessly catchy music ever to grace a playlist. Elizabeth's personality is extra-larger than life, but where her emotional expressions can get kinda self-centered and histrionic, they can also hew close to some very real feelings. At times, she can voice 'em as well as some of the best singer-songwriters out there. Meanwhile, the music is as infectious and energetic as this song, a bittersweet reflection on the Chicago singles bar scene, suggests. I've logged many hours listening to this stuff, which is weird, since it's not generally a kind of music I go for. The fact that I'm hooked on it must mean that it's pretty damn good. (And that I'm infatuated w/ Elizabeth.)

9. You Crummy - Lee 'Scratch' Perry - I Am the Upsetter (2005): I've been aware of reggae for more than 1 decade, so why did I deprive myself of it? I tried to answer that question in 2007, when writing about Derrick Harriott's "The Loser": "Because I was worried about looking like one of those aging NPR-listenin' people whose hippiness has become thoroughly diluted... If so, I was succumbing to one of the biggest, stupidest mistakes a person can make, which is to avoid living her/his life outta self-consciousness."

Sometimes, realizing you were wrong about something can feel pretty good. Like "The Loser," this Scratch Perry song, is reggae ('tho the styles involved are as far removed from one another as heavy metal and punk rock.) And like "The Loser," it’s one of the most emotionally intense songs I've heard in a long time. Of course, you could say that about many Scratch Perry songs. Because of that, and because of his staggering musical ingenuity, he's the reggae artist I listen to the most. But there's a lotta reggae out there, performed by a lotta different artists, and so much of it seems to be filled w/ real warmth, humor, anger, sadness... One thing I am looking forward to, as I get older, is digging deeper into reggae.

10. Drop-out - Times New Viking - Rip It off (2009): Just when ya think rock is dead, the Blood Brothers come along and give it CPR. Then they break up.

Well, whatta ya do now? Huh?! Wring yr. hands at the withering away of the bomp-she-bomp? Have a wake?

I gotta better idea. Go buy every single Times New Viking record you can get yr. hands on. They didn't invent "lo-fi" rock--the movement toward using outdated recording techniques and equipment in hopes of foregrounding amateurism and thereby emphasizing feeling over professionalism, energy over ennui and fun over virtuosity. But they sure did perfect it.

Frequently, people point out that "amateur" is a word that was originally meant to describe a passionate admirer--often, simultaneously a practitioner--of a discipline of some sort. (Latin "amator"= "lover.") An amateur did not necessarily lack talent, might in fact, have cultivated a purer talent by focusing on what he/she loved, rather than on how he/she looked. Don't be deceived by the lack of polish here. These guys know what they're doing. They're gettin' rock off the life support and back to the great rent party that is the good side of mass Western culture.

11. I Got Nothin' - The Stooges - Metallic K.O. (2001): What a short, strange arc it's been for this Michigan garage band. Unlike Times New Viking, they really couldn't play their instruments when they started. Legend has it they'd never even picked 'em up really before forming the band. Of course, you have to take that sorta mythologizing w/ a whole shakerful of salt. But that's OK. Whether or not the tale is true, the same spirit runs through the music of the Stooges and Times New Viking.

Released in 1969, the first, self-titled Stooges record is a manifesto of simplicity and intensity in rock--something radically different than the Beatles, Jefferson Aeroplane or even the Stones. It was stripped down and unrefined, and the emotions in it were so raw that they threw the Stooges development into overdrive, leading to evermore sophisticated records at a very alarming rate. Their last studio album, the David Bowie-developed Raw Power sounded like howling punk rock rattling the commercial cage it had been placed in. Is it any wonder that was it?

Mostly. There was one last set of live shows that followed. Through the hate and humor he hurled around him, Iggy Pop drew the attention of the biker gang, The Scorpions, who'd warned him not to play the one last live show documented on Disc 1 of Metallic KO. For many years, the record was out of print, leading to drooling on the part of hardcore fans, who wanted to hear the only record Lester Bangs knew of where "you could hear beer bottles breaking against guitar strings," a live record which ended w/ Iggy himself being knocked unconscious as the gang rushed the stage. And that was it for the Stooges, until a recent reunion effort that's best left forgotten.

Anyway, this is the terminal point of a line of energy that grew ever darker, funnier and more exciting. I can almost hear it all come to a head here. Maybe it was a little stupid, as an artistic endeavor--maybe even irresponsible, as should you really encourage violence as Iggy did? Don't know for sure, but I think it's worth it for the catharsis--for the venting of spleen and bile and absurd humor that makes you laugh inappropriately. It's meant a lot to me over the last decade and still does as I write this.

(A postscript: I'm a little shaky on the anti-Semitism here than I used to be, however--'tho maybe that makes me a hypocrite.)

12. Pendulum Music - Sonic Youth - OHM: Early Gurus of Electronic Music (2000): I'm always interested in new sounds and new ways to look at music. I like to be surprised, and I like to be engaged. This song, if it may be called such, did both for me. It was "composed" accidentally, by avant-noise musician Steve Reich. Before a performance out west, he began swinging a microphone around by its cord. As it circled around, the microphone passed repeatedly in front of some amplifiers by the stage. Each revolution built up a growing stream of feedback, which became strangely haunting, if not exactly melodic. The sounds captured Reich's imagination, and he went on to arrange a performance that recreated the original happy accident. It used multiple microphones to further build up the noise and stretch the euphonic sounds into the ever more bizarre harmonies.

Sonic Youth "covers" and records Reich's composition here, allowing all of us who love noise to immerse ourselves in some wholly unique sounds.

13. Come to Daddy (Pappy Mix Version) - Aphex Twin - Come to Daddy (2008): Obviously, my love of music has grown to include an appreciation of squalling obnoxiousness. Electronic musician Richard James, a.k.a. Aphex Twin, has led some very intense--often very funny--excursions into solid noise. The humor here gives you an immediate in to this cacophony, as he combines the refrain from the Misfits song, "Skull" with a very silly come-on: "Come to Daddy, come to daddy..." Etc.--not to mention exaggerated techno sound effects.

I listened to a lotta Aphex Twin these past 10 years, from his gentle, haunting ambient stuff, through his anarchic cut-and-paste disembowelments of popular music. Sometimes, I found the ideas and expressions in his songs to be so unexpected and insightful as to change my perspective as a whole--in small but significant ways. I'm struck by his imagination and have had a lotta fun digging into its consequences.

14. Preaching Blues (Up Jumped the Devil) - Robert Johnson - The Complete Recordings (2002): The transition from Aphex Twin may seem kinda jarring--maybe even unmotivated, but I think when you move past the chronological and technological gulfs that separate these songs, you find a great deal of similarity. Both have boundless energy and aggression. Each is fast and loud and bears a strong sense of personality.

Said personality is so large here that it becomes as memorable as the staggering guitar playing, which is saying a lot. Johnson's virtuosity on his instrument drew the worship of guys like Eric Clapton, who've promoted him whenever possible. But the loneliness he evokes--not to mention the humorous cynicism w/ which he ridicules social foibles like Southern Baptism--have stuck w/ me just as much, making him a welcome fellow traveler and pointed influence throughout the 1st 10 years of the new millennium...

15. Christian Brothers - Elliott Smith - Elliott Smith (2006): Like Robert Johnson, Elliott Smith has exerted a considerable, even greater, influence on me. Some people close to me have asserted that his influence might not've always been positive, as it may've encouraged my focus on my own unhappiness. I say, as always, that my appreciation of Elliott Smith has more to do w/ him as a kindred spirit--1 who is far more gifted than I am at expressing feelings that I know quite well myself.

So am I depressed? Am I angry? Ida know. For me, Elliott Smith's music is filled w/ as much warmth as pain. And at its darkest or saddest, it's about a catharsis that allows me to not stab myself in the chest w/ a kitchen knife, as he did, thereby ending his life an intense and intensely meaningful musical career. I have his music and at times, it really, really helps me get by.

16. M.E. - Gary Numan - The Pleasure Principle (2000): I've sung the praises of Gary Numan many times, 'tho I know he might alienate a lotta people who share most of my musical enthusiasms. That's OK. He's all about alienation. He's also a paragon of 80s synth music, having delivered "Cars," which means that all that some people find in his music is a sorta moldy MTV reliquary. What's more, they might object to his warbly vocals and fey persona. Man, are they missin' out!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Gary Numan knows about intense loneliness, and loneliness may be 1 of the flavors of this decade. Or maybe that's just me. He also knows how to dramatize--w/ synths and sci-fi conceits, sure--but he hits you hard w/ an unflinching view of entrapment and coldness--and most importantly, w/ the powerful need to break through alla that. His music presents a real challenge: if you can get past its silliness, what you find is bleak. The desire to live beyond that bleakness is also there, 'tho, and for me that can make his music well worth the effort.

17. Kid A - Radiohead - Kid A (2000): Obviously, Radiohead are the musical descendents of Gary Numan, and it's not surprising that at the peak of their popularity--not just w/ me, but w/ their entire audience--that I found myself delving into Gary Numan's music.

Radiohead covers a lotta the same territory. They portray a struggle to maintain your humanity in the midst of depersonalization. In 2000, these ideas seemed very relevant, and the music Radiohead used to express them put them far beyond any other artist of such popularity. Kid A ways revelatory. It disappointed some of their old school fans by mostly kicking the guitars out the window in favor of synths. Musically, its logic appeared to be culled from the sounds of electronica, rather than rock. Still, Radiohead were a rock band, and these perceptions were those of rock n roll enthusiasts. Electronic music fans might've found Radiohead's efforts to be watered down.

I think these questions are mostly irrelevant. In Kid A, I found a an expression of post-modernism in its most positive form. The record pulled in whatever it needed from rock, electronica--even a bit of free jazz in "The National Anthem"--to communicate its points. That's what the best art does--uses the right tool for the job. But while a lotta musicians pursue this sorta eclecticism, few have the assurance and talent to make it work.

Radiohead did, and if you haven't had the experience of seeing them live, you might not know that they can do this even when they're outside of the studio and removed from most of its trickery. I saw them live at the lakefront in Chicago in the summer of 2001, and it was one of the best performances I've ever attended. (And I have attended many.) The huge full moon that rose over the lake didn't hurt, nor did a warm breeze that blew in. Everyone in the open seating crowd just seemed to get caught up in a very authentic fellow feeling, and the music was great. I don't think I'll ever forget that night.

18. Black Satin - Miles Davis - On the Corner (2004): Miles Davis may be my favorite musical artist of all. He mastered nearly every jazz form--except, notably, free jazz, which he despised. He moved beyond standard jazz methodology and into explorations of rock, classical and electronic music. I listen to all of his stuff. Kind of Blue, which is a lush, modern jazz record in the most conventional vein, is the record I always think I would take to a desert island w/ me if I had only 1 choice. Still, he's equally intense on On the Corner, which is a record I love for very different reasons.

In the late 60s and early 70s, Miles Davis made darker electric music that alienated many of his listeners--just like Radiohead. And like Radiohead, his music seemed to be at least somewhat preoccupied w/ dehumanization. But whereas Gary Numan and Radiohead might envision machines swooping down to claim us as their own, Miles might have been looking at a twisting of humanity--past bestiality and into the demonic. I might be extrapolating a lot from what I hear, but I'm not the 1st. Many critics and listeners have detected a strain corruption here.

Lester Bangs wrote about the "insectival" atmosphere of this album. When I listen to the queasy harmonies of the horns, the menacing thud of the base and those brittle handclaps, I can't help but feel that there's something fevered going on--maybe feverish--and fever means sickness. Soon after this album, Miles "retired" for 5 years and fell into a quagmire of drugs, paranoia and depression. Again, I think darkness in music can be transcendent. It can show you a way out through its confrontation w/ things you feel but cannot deal w/ yourself.

19. Baby Doll - Cat Power - You Are Free (2003): In 2003, I might've listened to Cat Power's (a.k.a. singer/songwriter Chan Marshall's) You Are Free as much or more than any new album. I was overwhelmed by Chan Marshall's very idiosyncratic view of the world. Like Miles, n' Gary, n' Radiohead, she was asking what seemed like very important questions in her lyrics--which could be very poetic, if free associative. These questions dealt w/ humanity, as I saw it. Was it getting harder to be human in the face of our retreat into cyber/satellite shells, while meanwhile, out there in the physical world, some very bad shit indeed was afoot? She never dealt w/ Iraq or Afghanistan or anything like that, but she did ask whether we were going to maintain our basic humanity as individuals--or as she put it in this song, "Don't you want to be clean?"

I might've felt it all the most here 'tho, because here it really was expressed as a choice, w/o white washing how heavy the weight of choosing might be, she suggested that it was necessary: "Don't you want to be free?"

Beyond the lyrics, the music was important in posing these questions. The sounds were passionate and struggling w/ fear and despair, just as much as the words. Unfortunately, as she consolidated her fan base, I felt myself drifting out of it to a point where the next album, The Greatest, meant absolutely nothing to me. I saw Cat Power back in the old days, when Chan could not be trusted to keep her guitar in tune, or even to complete an entire song. She's freakin' nuts, of course, but I found her much more compelling in this setting than I did when I later saw her fronting a buncha session hacks from Nashville and parts beyond. She looked like the star she'd become, which is only fair. She'd earned it. But the show was lifeless.

It was sad--like losing an old friend--but ultimately I could accept it. Her earlier albums were more than enough to win my gratitude and admiration.

20. Summer Cannibals - Patti Smith - Gone Again (2000): As I said, 2000 was a bad year for me. Briefly, I reached one of the absolute lowest points of my life. Circumstances were already bad, and then very bad things began to happen. I felt like I was gonna fall apart--and despite my best efforts, briefly, I did.

This song is dark, dense hard rock. Its sounds suited my feelings, and I could relate to the haze through which Patti seemed to be seeing the world--one in which, at moments, you weren't sure you could trust the way the world now looked to you. Had it always looked this way? Were the people around you like that? And what did that say about you yourself? If you were right, then live w/ it every day? If you were wrong, then weren't you sick to hold these perceptions?

Patti presents a vision of people twisted into monsters, 'tho they either don't see themselves as such or don't care. They celebrate it, taking communion together, and they draw the singer in to do the same. She doesn't resist, but at the end, she can't continue to sit through the meal. She can't participate anymore. It's not a moment of strength, when she turns away--or at least she doesn't see it that way. She's not setting herself above the cannibals. She's got a seat at the table. I see it more as a capitulation to weakness--a feeling that you can't proceed as you are. You can't do what everyone else around you can.

In this dream---'as it's presented w/ the logic of dreams--that sorta foggy impressionism--she sees only 1 way out. Defeated--her strength and courage fail her, and the world around her looks perfectly corrupt, so she gives herself up as part of the feast. It's a sick image, full of self-hatred and fear of everyone else, but it's drawn w/ strength and force. And again, in acting it out in a song, we may be able to let it go in our own lives.

I was mostly able to, and this song played its part in that. It was a real comfort to know that someone else had these feelings and preoccupations that seemed so bent and at times, to be drawn from such terminal inadequacy. I was happy, but not surprised, when I saw Patti Smith, twice, and she projected this enormous humanity--kindness, humor and attitude. Well into middle age, she'd survived the fury of the punk explosion, and for what it's worth, was the first woman to cut a path through it. I am not a feminist, but I recognize the courage and confidence it must've taken. More than that, I recognize the power of her music. No matter what it's creator's gender was, it'd still kick ass.

But now, all of that was sorely tested by the tragic death of her much loved husband, as well as the loss of a brother and some very close friends. You could see how she might've found herself in the place she maps out in "Summer Cannibals." That she was able to transmute those terrible feelings into this song--into the entire album Gone Again--is testament to her bravery and compassion--not to mention her significance as an artist.

21. Your Children Aren’t Special - Bill Hicks - Rant in E Minor (2008): In the last 10 years, Bill Hicks has had a considerable effect on me as a writer. Like Elliott Smith, I share his sensibility, and but I also aspire to Bill Hicks's voice... Well, I'd like to have my own voice, actually, but I'd like to develop it w/ the same flair and intelligence that he showed. His standup is laugh-out-loud funny, but always insightful. He always wears his anger on his sleeve, but it arises out of a desire that the world and the people in it--including himself--might be better, might try a little harder to reach some real fulfillment.

That's it! Before I sign off, some quick notes about the ten annual playlists:

Titles - Each comes from a line from one of the songs on the list--shown in parentheses here:

2000 / Grab a Chair, You're Gonna Need a Shield (Gluecifer, "I Got a War")

2001 / Riots in the Motor City (The Stooges, "I Got Nothin'")

2002 / God Save Us All (Brainiac, "Fucking with the Altimeter")

2003 / A Certain Inept Licentiousness (The Reputation, "The Stars of Amateur Hour")

2004 / It Doesn't Pay to Try (Johnny Thunders, "You Can't Put Your Arms around a Memory")

2005 / A Red Coal Carpet (The Rolling Stones, "Gimme Shelter")

2006 / A Cat in a Bag (The Verve, "The Drugs Don't Work")

2007 / 43 Ways to Kill You with a Pimento (David Cross, "Monica Lewinsky & the 3 Bears")

2008 / People Passing through Me (Gorillaz, "New Genius (Brother)")

2009 / An Intentional Wreck (Public Enemy, "Welcome to the Terrordome")

The title of this decade's list comes from the Dr. Octagon song, "Earth People."

Shortest List - 2002 - 1:11:17

Longest List - 2001- 1:20:57 (which is actually more music than will fit on a CD, but somehow the playlist has survived in this form.)

Shortest song - Bicycle Built for 2 - Max Matthews (2000) - 0:40

Longest song - Amen - Bardo Pond (2006) - 29:12

My Favorite List - 2007

My Least - 2002

Artists who appeared on more than one list:

2x - Air, The Beatles, Bill Hicks, Brainiac, Broadcast, Can, Cat Power, Charles Mingus, Dr. Octagon*, Gorillaz, Johnny Cash, Johnny Thunders, Lee "Scratch" Perry, Radiohead, Ruins, Shannon Wright, Stereolab, The Verve.

3x - The Blood Brothers**, Gary Numan, Ladytron, Mudhoney**.

4x - Aphex Twin, Elliott Smith, Miles Davis

5x - Spacemen 3

* Dr. Octagon is an alias of hip-hop genius Kool Keith, who also appears on the 2005 list in his Dr. Dooom persona.

**As described above: though The Blood Brothers & Mudhoney each made 3 appearances, both bands contributed only 2 songs a piece. The Blood Brothers' "Laser Life" and Mudhoney's "Revolution" both showed up twice, on 2 different lists, a phenomenon that more or less guaranteed them a spot in this retrospective. In the case of the Blood Brothers, the repetition was unconscious and occurred 2 years in a row. I guess I really like that song. In the case of Mudhoney, the choice was conscious--not only did it illustrate something about the Mudhoney/Spacemen 3 clash, I just really like this song as well.

The Bizarro List: an 80 minutes or less playlist of songs I really wanted to include, but couldn't: (without descriptions, 'cuz it is the B List, and who has the time to read or write more?)

1. For Felix (& All the Rats) - Matmos - A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure (2003)

2. I Hear a New World - Joe Meek & the Blue Men - I Hear a New World (2007)

3. Come on Let's Go - Broadcast (2000)

4. Lost - Meat Puppets - Meat Puppets II (2001)

5. Bombay 400 Miles - Kalyanji & Anandji Shah w/ Dan the Automator - Bombay the Hard Way: Guns, Cars & Sitars (2000)

6. Les Yper-Sound - Stereolab - Emperor Tomato Ketchup (2002)

7. Love It's Getting Better - The Pastels - Worlds of Possibility EP (2007)

8. Black Sabbath - Black Sabbath - Black Sabbath (2001)

9. Dummy Discards a Heart - Deerhoof - Apple O' (2009)

10. Gossip Folks - Missy Elliott - Under Construction (2006)

11. Nutty - Thelonious Monk with John Coltrane - At Carnegie Hall (2005)

12. Cocaine Blues (Live) - Johnny Cash - The Essential Johnny Cash 1955-1983 (2005)

13. Criminally Insane - Slayer - Reign in Blood (2001)

14. Soul on Fire - LaVern Baker - Soul on Fire: The Best of LaVern Baker (2006)

15. New Genius (Brother) - Gorillaz - Gorillaz (2008)

16. Foggy Minded Breakdown - The Blacks - Feels Just Like Home (2000)

17. Destroy Everything You Touch - Ladytron - Witching Hour (2005)

18. Melody - Blonde Redhead - Misery Is a Butterfly (2004)

19. Within the Quilt of Demand - Shannon Wright - Maps of Tacit (2002)

20. Myself When I Am Real - Charles Mingus - Mingus Plays Piano (2006)

Woo hoo! We did it, you & I! I'll see you in December 2010 w/ another boring list! Maybe!