Five Things: Roadtrip Edition

(The Killers)

The D Man recently enjoyed a trip to the Magic Kingdom with his entire clan.  So it feels appropriate to share another roadtrip musiclogue.  We made it there and back, and always with the right tunes.

• Among the Leaves by Sun Kil Moon.  Mrs. D Man said this song was depressing.  I disagreed, calling it contemplative or mood-inducing.  Regardless, it was perfect listening for considering the wide expanse.
• Celebration Rock by Japandroids.  Needing a palette cleanser, we hit this hard through Cedar City.  Mrs. D Man could barely handle a three-song set, so I gave her the best the record could offer:  "Adrenaline Nightshift," "Younger Us," and "The House That Heaven Built."
• Nocturne by Wild Nothing.  The November sun was slanting.  The canyons were rising.  Slipped this record in at just the right time.
• Demolition by Ryan Adams.  Going nuclear was maybe too appropriate while driving through the downwinder desert of southern Nevada.
• High Violet by The National.  I let Mrs. D Man pick this one.  I think we both just wanted to sing to "Bloodbuzz, Ohio."  I still owe money to the money I owe.  Yeah, we know what you mean, guys.
• Declaration of Dependence by Kings of Convenience.  With the time change, we left Las Vegas the next day much earlier than expected.  The rising sun was masking everything in a yellowish hue.  We needed a record to appreciate the isolation and vast beauty, yet music that would not snap us out of our early-morning reverence too quickly.
• Gossamer by Passion Pit.  These songs made the empty spaces bounce.
• Heaven by The Walkmen.  Not surprised by how well this record sounded on the open road.  Coming out of Barstow, everything seemed to click.  How many times can you say that?
• Bloom by Beach House.  The exquisite accompaniment for descending into California's coastal valley.
• Battle Born by The Killers.  Our Orange County soundtrack.  We listened to this album non-stop for five days, and we will likely forever associate Disneyland and Huntington Beach with Flowers' vocals and the band's earnest romance and nostalgic anthems.  And guess what?  We loved every minute of it.
• Bloom again.
• Zonoscope by Cut Copy.  The trip home is always difficult.  The music can lose that sense of anticipation.  Striking the right tone is important and delicate work.  I figured some savvy, bright-eyed pop could carry us through the first stretch of California desert.
• Confess by Twin Shadow.  The clouds gathered and the rain started to fall.  So Twin Shadow's nocturnal beats were not premature.
• Era Extrana by Neon Indian.  The icy future-gloom from this record was a nice change of pace, and it still managed to accentuate the foreboding change in weather.
• Songs for a Blue Guitar by Red House Painters.  At the first sign of snowflakes somewhere in central Utah, we fully embraced the need for something pensive, quiet, and striking.
• In a Safe Place by The Album Leaf.  Mrs. D Man laughed when I put this record on, astutely observing my need to always create the perfect mood or the right memory.  When the traffic slows and the snow piles up, few records could serenely take in the surrounding whiteout.  This was absolutely one of them.