Kelley Libby
Richmond, Virginia / Proofreader/Project Assistant
I think part of what attracts us to music is that it connects us to people. When a song comes to me I get the feeling it has traveled, that many factors have determined its existence and its direction. It is at once an imitation and an original creation. And it is also an artifact we can, and increasingly do, share. I couldn’t compile this list of songs without considering the community of listeners from which the songs came to me. Songs tend to remind us of people. And we ensure that people are reminded of us, or at least get a hint of who we are, when we share songs that move us in some way. I have gotten my music this year from old and new friends, coworkers, parents, siblings, strangers, companies, radios, blogs, traveling bands, and... I don’t know, mysteries. The songs I chose to write about aren’t necessarily favorites, but rather, selections for a soundtrack of my year. They accompany scenes of showers, seasonal landscapes, laughter, planting seeds, running by the river, drives in the mountains, procrastination, dancing alone, poker games, late nights at work, and so on.
1. “A Re-occuring Dream”
Chicago Underground Quartet / Chicago Underground Quartet
The first time I heard Chicago Underground was in Marc’s studio apartment in St. Augustine, which was downstairs from mine. With the trio bouncing jazz off the walls of the tiny apartment, I told Marc I liked his pants. He returned the compliment. So without another word, we unzipped our pants and traded. I didn’t hear Chicago Underground again until I lived in Richmond with Will, who bought the Quartet album for me. The cold drive to work from our apartment was short—almost enough time for two tracks, with the remainder in the parking lot as the car finally started to heat up. One of the tracks was “A Re-occuring Dream.” And every morning during that time did feel and look a bit like the morning before it: the iron gate latch catching on its cradle as I left for work; the angry shock my fingers got when I touched the car door; the feeling of creeping around corners in The Fan, hoping I was alone at intersections; and the stiff, puffy, sometimes ridiculous winter attire of students and professors on Franklin Street. Sometimes it’s so cold you don’t care, which is a thought that warmed me on those eerie morning drives.
2. “I Feel It All”
Feist / The Reminder
Clarissa introduced me to Feist, and my sister loves her too. “I Feel It All” is poppy and fun and textured. And alive. And I can relate to being the one who breaks her own heart.
3. “Sligo River Blues”
John Fahey / The Legend of Blind Joe Death
Ben and Julia gave Will and me a DVD of music files, all of which I loaded onto my computer at work. When it’s slow, I catch up on entering my time into our billing system while I listen to my playlist on random. I had just moved into my quiet office in the attic when, during a lull, “Sligo River Blues” came on. It was raining out, so I opened the door beside my desk that leads to the balcony, put my head down on my folded arms, and just listened in the dark. Then I played it again. And again... how the sad melody complemented the rain which would inevitably wash away my summer.
4. “Plasticities”
Andrew Bird / Armchair Apocrypha
For some reason, I’ve never been able to remember the complete lyrics to a song—I’d say on average, I retain about eight percent of the lyrics I hear. My ear just elects to hear mostly melodies. Which is unfortunate because there are so many beautiful and interesting combinations of words that I’m missing out on. And even though Andrew Bird writes interesting words for his masterfully crafted melodies, I’m still incapable of giving my full attention to his lyrics. Plus, to be honest, some of his words are unfamiliar to me. Like in “Scythian Empires,” for example: “Routed by Sarmations, thwarted by Thracians.” But based on the roughly eight percent of Andrew Bird’s words that I do retain, I am inclined to look them all up and read along with the tracks. And I have not yet been disappointed by his writing.
“Plasticities” is the first song that stuck in my mind melodically from Armchair Apocrypha—in particular the We’ll fight, we’ll fight, we’ll fight part. And the plucking, dinging, weird wobblies, whistles, the marching chopping guitar, even the loud socks. The song was fresh in my mind when Puck and I left the September show at Toad’s Place. I was trying to take a picture of a lit-up building’s stark white reflection in the canal water with my camera phone. It was just beginning to be cool enough outside at night for a jacket. I remember feeling okay, like I was the final little knob on the top of a drizzle castle.
5. “Humble Me”
Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings / 100 Days, 100 Nights
I first heard Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings on elbo.ws, a music blog aggregator Matt mentioned in a conversation while waiting for fireworks to start on July 4. I was intrigued by the album cover, which could inconspicuously reside in my parents’ record collection. And upon first listen, I was hooked to their old-school Soul and Funk sound and Sharon Jones’ powerful voice. Humble Me is the best kind of prayer—real and funky and full of passion.
6. “No One’s Gonna Love You”
Band of Horses / Cease to Begin
When I was in undergrad, a girl I knew got pissed when a guy told her he’d love her more than anyone else would. She was offended because she believed that love for her shouldn’t have such limits, especially ones set by this guy who really didn’t have it going on in any way. But I thought it was a sweet statement, and I think she’d be more apt to agree if she heard Ben Bridwell sing it. I don’t think I’ve heard a prettier cliche sung. Over the holiday, I played music with Drew, and he gave me some songwriting advice. He said cheesy lyrics are good. Sometimes the cheesier they are, the more you feel the song. And every time I hear the chest-clutching line, No one’s gonna love you more than I do, I really do believe it.
7. “Wolves”
Phosphorescent / Pride
I fell in love with music when my grandfather made a song using a butterknife as a slide while “the younguns” took turns strumming on an old open-tuned guitar. I fell in love with a musician/singer when I heard Phosphorescent (at Kristen’s recommendation). I don’t even care that his uke is out of tune. Just the way he says the words glowing bright. Oh my god, it’s just too sexy.
8. “House of Cards”
Radiohead / In Rainbows
Ricky paid Radiohead something like $.42 for In Rainbows and then burned a copy for me. I got his money’s worth upon first listen. I kept it in my stereo for days and played nothing else. And for a while, listening to it loud while lying in bed in the dark was one of my favorite things to do.
9. “Right Moves”
Josh Ritter / The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter
No one I know suggested I buy this record. In fact, I can’t remember how or why I came to buy it. But I’m pretty impressed with it. I like the variety. The lyrics. The instrumentation. I have mostly listened to it in the morning while getting ready for work, so years from now, when I decide to revisit Josh Ritter, I will be reminded of a shower head, the smell of rose soap, and how I too was asking myself if I was making the right moves.
10. “Time to Pretend”
MGMT / Oracular Spectacular
I really couldn’t ask for better roommates. You’d think four girls in one house would be like mixing cats and rabbits, which also happen to coexist peacefully in our house. But sometimes all I want is anything but peace. I want to come home from a full day of workwork and schoolwork (both of which involve sitting in silence and reading) and dance to very loud music. But I’ve had to respect my soon-to-be-a-doctor roommate who studies and sleeps below me. Now that the semester has ended and all my roommates have gone home, though, I am loud as much as possible. I feel like I’ve been let out of a cage. I play music loud on both floors now, while cooking, eating, doing laundry, reading the news, whatever. When I finished my last paper and had the house to myself for the first time, I bought MGMT’s record. I liked how the first track sounded with the volume up.