The D Man's Top 20 Albums of 2017

In the Sun Kil Moon track “Glenn Tipton,” Mark Kozelek opens Ghosts of the Great Highway with these memorable lines:

Cassius Clay was hated

more than Sonny Liston

Some like K.K. Downing

more than Glenn Tipton

Some like Jim Nabors

Some Bobby Vinton

I like ‘em all

Boxing heavyweights, Judas Priest guitarists, and old-time crooners.  After name-dropping these greats, Kozelek drives home an important point: his broad affinities countermand rivalries or comparisons.  The D Man understands.

My favorite law school professor wrote that my interests were “catholic” (universal) on my letter of recommendation.  It was one of the nicest compliments I’ve been given.  The late Morgan Shipman was an imposing gray-haired intellectual at the twilight of his career.  He was a Texas-bred product of another age, as evidenced by his collection of colorful suits and large, sweet-smelling pipe that hung from the side of his mouth.  When he taught, he lurched all over the classroom and waved his arms excitedly when he struck gold with a quip.  He was fantastic.

I excelled in Professor Shipman’s Property course, taught his prep class, and worked for him over the summer.  Our conversations in the school eatery ranged all over the field – art, politics, religion, geography – and I believe he sensed in me a kindred spirit who was likewise enamored with the life of the mind and the heart.  When an interviewing attorney later questioned his use of the word catholic in my letter of recommendation (apparently finding it confusing or potentially offensive), I realized I would have little interest in working with her or her firm.  My seemingly broad sensibilities stretched only so wide for some people.

My music tastes have followed this same catholic path—I like ‘em all.  I find immense satisfaction in the aesthetic achievements of all-time greats.  I seek after the truly inspired and inspiring.  I have cataloged popular music history and know most of its byways and detours.  But I also derive deep pleasure from visiting the underappreciated or middlebrow.  The only sin, in my view, is to confuse sublime artists with lesser ilk, to forget where you are on the map, to elevate the low over the high, or to force more meaning upon something that merely exists, at best, for passable enjoyment.  Aesthetic distinctions do matter.  Weighing and considering is still a prime directive.  But personal preferences may rein in our better angels, and that kind of musical off-roading is fine by The D Man.

I have early memories running from this song to this song to this song.  The Beach Boys coincided with The Beastie Boys.  U2 cassettes were swapped out for L.L. Cool and Kool Moe Doe tapes traded place with The Police.  I have vast reservoirs of 80s lyrics – from soft rock to hair metal –  embedded in my cranium.  I can lodge Christopher Cross in my brain even after listening to something like The Skeleton Tree.  I plumb the depths of Radiohead one day and succumb to the lesser spells of Coldplay the next.  I really like Carly Rae Jepsen.  Rock, new wave, hip-hop, folk, and electronica all hold court and vie for my attention.  Lines blur.  Appreciation grows and diminishes.  Whatever remains ultimately wins my deepest affection and loyalties.

This year’s list veers and then straightens out—some low at the edges with some clear-cut high at the top.  Excellent records from Mac Demarco, Fleet Foxes, Drake, Iron & Wine, Future Islands, King Krule, Spoon, Fionn Regan, Real Estate and Mew were considered and then left out in the cold.  (U2's new record just dropped today and sounds really promising).  You have always trusted The D Man to make tough decisions.  Liking them all just makes it a little more painful.

1. A Deeper Understanding / The War on Drugs

A Deeper Understanding is a continental yawp, a sprawling open-road run, leaving demons behind and reaching for heaven just beyond the horizon.  Distilling Dylan, Springsteen, and Petty into a twilight haze of spiritual suffering and rejuvenation, The War on Drugs elevate American guitar-rock into soul-stirring skies. 

The band's fourth album is a studio masterpiece, utterly rich and immersive.  The sonic architecture is an enduring testament to Adam Granduciel's painstaking attention to detail and his own musical wizardry.  He played most of the instruments in the studio, and as always, he was invested in the feel and tone of the record, emphasizing warmth, space, and clarity in the mix.  It sounds absolutely fantastic, an audiophile's daydream.

The recording advantage Granduciel has over his influences or peers is this simple fact: none of them can play the guitar like him.  Shimmering, dexterous, anthemic, and spiritual, he uses negative space as another substance, revealing striking contours in between his notes, allowing for the possibility that a simple chord change can shift the entire direction of a song.

Ahistorical and apolitical, A Deeper Understanding has little concern for some wider contextual narrative.  It is all about the experience between artist and listener, building an inner world of shared emotions, aiming for resonance that is both deeply personal and widely universal.  Lyrically, the imagery is threadbare and open-ended enough to allow for listeners to fill in the blanks with whatever drama they are bringing with them.  Heartache and hope are welcome here.

The sequencing is sublime and the variation is inspired.  There are rhythmic, drum heavy joints; ripping guitar epics; swelling old-school arena rockers; wobbly keyboard confessionals; and meandering guitar and synth revelations.  The songs gather up the mist and work patient, nostalgic wonders that eventually break through the cloud cover.  Almost every track on the album was my favorite song at one time or another.  Their versatility in mood and atmosphere is uncommon--they were companions in early morning hours, gym sessions, traffic jams, afternoon chills, and late-night drives.  Generous and cathartic, these songs can go anywhere.

While Lost in the Dream was easily one of the best records of the past decade, A Deeper Understanding feels like a logical conclusion to the band's glorious vein of Americana.  Sweeping and triumphant, this was the best album of 2017, and it never felt in doubt, especially after seeing Granduciel play live in October, shredding on his red 1966 Gibson Firebird, uplifting an entire room seeking communal magic.

2. DAMN. / Kendrick Lamar

DAMN. is another massive critical and cultural touchstone from the reigning best rapper on earth.  It was difficult to escape Kendrick Lamar's influence and airplay, rightly earned by his fierce prose of righteous and/or just plain indignation.  Tightly wound and introspective, the artist moves from the jazz-funk fusion of To Pimp A Butterfly into a harder-hitting flow that is at once political and personal.  Much of the time, it is less about what he says than how he says it, captivating even out-of-the-loop, oft-unwoke, middle-aged family men like The D Man.

The spare profile captured my imagination in ways its maximalist predecessor could not.  There is something about the aesthetic of the record that spoke to me--the lone-wolf lyricist spitting consciously, the stark album photograph, the thematic, one-word song titles in all caps, etc.  Lamar is the show and needs little help -- this is his moment -- but when guests appear they happen to be some of the largest acts in the world, Rihanna and U2.  It would be surprising if DAMN. does not win the Grammy for both Best Rap Album and Album of the Year.

C-Dog loves playing the festival bangers "DNA" and "Humble" before ball games.  (Family versions, yo!)  Who can blame him?  500 plus million views on Youtube, sheesh.  Their pointillist attack bore a hole straight through your skull, unsparing and concise.  The D Man's sentiments, however, lie more with the mid-tempo chill of "YAH," the simmering defiance of "FEEL," or the quasi-rap ballad "LOVE."  There are critics and fans who will do a much better job of psycho-analyzing the record's merits and influences, so I will just leave things by highlighting my favorite lyrics or moments on the album.

• The opening bars of "DNA" are explosive.  I got power, poison, pain and joy inside my DNA / I got hustle though, ambition, flow, inside my DNA / I was born like this, since one like this / immaculate conception / I transform like this, perform like this / was Yeshua's new weapon"
• The woozy and and unconventional chorus on "YAH."  Buzzin, radars is buzzin' / Yah yah yah yah yah yah.
• The syncopated transition on "ELEMENT."  We okay, we let the A1 fly / Relocate jump on the same G5!
• "FEEL" is the jam.  I feel like a chip on my shoulders / I feel like I'm losing my focus / I feel like I'm losing my patience / I feel like my thoughts in the basement / Feel like, I feel like you're miseducated / Feel like I don't wanna be bothered / I feel like you may be the problem.  As Lamar's temperature rises, he then releases into serious self-pity: Ain't nobody prayin' for me / Ain't nobody prayin'
• Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty!
• Two parts on "HUMBLE."  First, the music stops: my left stroke just went viral! Right stroke just put 'lil baby in a spiral!  Second, referring to his music:  This that Grey Poupon, that Evian, that TED Talk!
• Zacari's falsetto accents on "LOVE."  Try getting them out of your head.

3. Slowdive

Slowdive's self-titled record straddles time and space.  Having already established themselves as one of the leading lights of shoegaze, and having already recorded three classic albums exploring most of the genre's musical boundaries, Slowdive resurfaced in 2017 with dreamy and dissonant textures to rival anything from the band's '90s alt-rock heyday.

Principal songwriter Neil Halstead said the band wanted "to create something big and beautiful and sort of timeless," and it only takes one listen to appreciate their colossal success.  The British stalwarts radiate inspiration after their 22-year hiatus; indeed, it is difficult to think of any band that has taken such a lengthy break only to return sounding both in-the-moment and wholly their own.

The songs are thrilling and transportive. The circulating wash of guitars is almost tangible, while the arrangements showcase a startling range in mood that usually flutters somewhere between Rachel Goswell's evocative register and Halstead's ringing guitar.  Sweetness, melancholy, yearning, soothing, sadness--the tides of feeling rise and fall over the course of 8 songs and 46 minutes, impeccably produced and sequenced from start to finish.  (It is easily the best headphone experience of the year, a masterclass in form, movement, and texture).

The album opens with "Slomo," a reverie that casts a shadow with Goswell's gorgeous vocals and the band's shimmering guitar swells.  "Star Roving" is a victorious anthem with quasar riffs ranging across the cosmos, crunching under the weight of their planet-hunting feet. "Sugar for the Pill" is desolate beauty, the half-way there, the almost said, as the reverbed licks mimic the sound of that hollowed out space between emotions.  (It also just may be the closest thing to a real pop song the band has ever played).  "Everyone Knows" finds Goswell singing to spirited heights, knowing and hopeful.  As always, the human voice is first and foremost an instrument.  The signifiers of language are much less important than the pitch, shape, and substance of Goswell's and Halstead's chemistry.

The guitar lead sparkles on "No Longer Making Time," building to feverish and fuzzed-out choruses before finally receding into the outro.  "Go Get It" is the record's hardest-hitting track.  When the guitars wail and spin, the track almost comes of its axis, only to recover into a low-grade boil of bass, drum, and disembodied voice.  "Falling Ashes" is an epic elegy, as haunting piano lines close out the record, thinking about love, thinking about love.  When I came home one day to find my son playing this finale on our piano, it was a proud fathering moment for The D Man.  Dylan picked it out by ear, obviously drawn to something deep and eternal.

4. Life Will See You Now / Jens Lekman

Our favorite Swedish pop troubadour returns with his first album in five years!  Life Will See You Now is packed with Jens Lekman's bittersweet brand of literate whimsy--guitars, pianos, horns, and strings set listeners aloft in what is perhaps his sunniest effort to date.  Bright and brilliant, blissfully melodic, the music ranges from disco, bossa nova, and sample-laden chamber pop, leaving behind a joyous string of Lekman's triumphs and heartbreaks.

The opening track, "To Know Your Mission," recounts 16-year-old Jens' conversation with a Mormon missionary.  It is likely the finest pop song ever written with references to Mormonism, treating faith with a spirit of generosity, and deftly using a young elder's higher purpose as a springboard to the artist's own dreams of telling people's stories.  "But in a world full of mouths / I want to be an ear / If there's a purpose to all of this / then that's why God put me here."  Amen, Jens.  An obvious amen.

As always, Lekman's modern vignettes are wildly specific and deeply affecting.  He sings about his friend's cancer and the many prayers offered on his behalf ("Evening Prayer"); his night of criminal mischief in an amusement park ("Hotwire the Ferris Wheel"); his first fight with his girlfriend that ends in the sweetest resolution ("Our First Fight"); his funny chat with the bride before singing at her wedding ("Wedding in Finistere"); his take on cosmic history that leads him to borrow his crush's bass guitar ("How We Met, The Long Version"); and his decidedly male struggle in trying to tell his best friend that he loves him ("How Can I Tell Him").  Listeners with cold dead hearts may find this all a bit too much, but others will revel in the humor, pathos, and sweetness that Lekman shares.  In each song, his writing reveals exquisite little epiphanies, his lovelorn wistfulness now yielding to a wide-eyed optimism.

Grappling with the uncertainty of whether the world wanted or needed his songs, Lekman experienced years of self-doubt and a severe case of writer's block.  At the urging of friends and fans, he finally started to write again, dedicating himself to penning a new tune a week in 2015, now collected as 52 numbered postcards.  This exercise produced some great songs in their own right and unlocked his creative genius for another masterful album that, truthfully, the world needs more than ever.  Lekman's music is an open-hearted invitation to think and love with more awareness and energy.

The D Man urges newcomers to explore his early lo-fi majesties (When I Said I Wanted to Be Your Dog and Oh You're So Silent Jens), his moving masterwork (Night Falls on Kortedela), his lilting sorrows (I Know What Love Isn't), and his newest collection.  It will become very apparent that Lekman is one of our most unique singer-songwriters, a vibrant gift to people of good will everywhere.

5. ken / Destroyer

On its own, "Sky's Grey" is better than most albums that were produced this year:

Sky's grey

Call for rain

Everyday

You cancel the parade

Give up acting, [heck] no!

I'm just starting to get the good parts

Walk into a room and everything just clicks

Bombs in the city, plays in the sticks

Bombs in the city, plays in the sticks

Bombs in the city, plays in the sticks

Dan Bejar's theatrical performance on the riveting opener belies the world-weary sadness of it all, notwithstanding the vivid guitar postlude.  He articulates the bombed-out phrases with unique emphases, as if each time he is still weighing their heft in his mind and considering their truthfulness.   Bejar says, "I know it's not a rager in any sense, but it's the one that feels closest to my heart lyrically.  When I sing it, I feel it."

On Destroyer's 12th album, ken, our inscrutable bard attempts to answer this self-proposed question: "How could a decrepit-sounding voice sing in a dark, New Romantic world?"  Well, he does it first by writing his most direct and compact songs to date; ken is arguably the first pop-rock record of his career.  Musically, Bejar deepens his use of the dark synthscapes trailing from the vapors of masterpiece Kaputt.  Melodic grays and purples permeate the material because he was inspired by the sound and tone of The Cure's records -- the drums, the guitars, and the basslines all have that enigmatic quality.  It is a solemn marriage, as the military rhythms, apocalyptic synth tones, and New Wave guitars suit Bejar's distinctive gravel, veiling the songs with a Disintegration-style grandeur. 

Bejar is our Virgil, as always, this time navigating hospital wards, pirate dens, and lonely catwalks, breathing cinematic life into modernity and its portentious end.  Halfway through "Tinseltown Swimming in Blood," the wizened shaman leans in for a confession:

Now let me tell you about the dream:

I had no feeling, I had no past

I was the arctic, I was the vast

Spaces without reprieve

I was a dreamer

Watch me leave

It feels like a personal Waterloo -- the moment things became too much for a distracted man who was simply "off in the corner doing poet's work." Admittedly blind, Virgil now urges leaving the emptiness and the tinseled facades.  But the Romans keep doing as they do, swept away by a rotting culture, repeating the same mistakes despite the warning signs.  The empire is going to pot and here they are eating, drinking, and merrying into the early morning hours.

Where will you be when the ruin comes?

6. Not Even Happiness / Julie Byrne

Julie Byrne's lush folk album is a natural beauty.  The deserts of Utah.  The alluvial plains of Iceland.  The misty ridgelines of Hawaii.  Not Even Happiness alighted in every listening location like a native bird settling into its habitat.  The record's wandering, meditative psalms to nature and the heart were a healing balm during 2017, no matter where The D Man went.

Amid stunning production values, Not Even Happiness showcases Byrne's expert arrangements, fluid fingerpicking, and gorgeous alto, as she moves through tales that incorporate the land and her traveling spirit, at once earthy and ethereal.  Music this subtle and profound is too undervalued in this era; we are fortunate to sway over the rolling fields of Byrne's hermetic visions.

("I was made for the green / I was made to be alone")

Primarily recorded in her hometown of Buffalo, with string arrangements recorded in a cabin in New Hampshire, Byrne's second album sounds like it bubbled up from the natural springs of this vast continent, destined to run from river to sea after countless cycles of winters and suns.  Her voice and lyrics evoke pastoral scenes.  Verdant fields.  Doves over prairies.  Stars from a back porch.  Lights flickering in the distance.  Miles to go before sleeping and loved ones waiting somewhere.

("I have dragged my lives across the country / And wondered if travel led me anywhere")

With quiet authority laced in the deep husk of her voice, Byrne prods intimate emotional responses: love, worry, wistfulness, sadness, and desire.  Her dignity and self-possession allow strength in solitude, as she finds the sublime in passing moments that should be met with careful attention.

 ("Will I know a truer time / Than when I stood alone in the snow?")

I've been seeking God within, Byrne sings.  Ironically, she finds the Divine in the elemental, circling in the world's silence or abundance, her pristine observations capturing it, if only for a fleeting moment.

7. American Dream / LCD Soundsytem

Baby, oh baby, you're having a bad dream.  A bad time.  Sorry! ("oh baby")  There are other voices everywhere.  It's time for tin foil hats, anything, to stop them from intruding.  But you're still a pushover for passionate people! ("other voices")  I used to dance to my own volitions, I used to wait all night for rock transmissions.  I'm still trying to wake up--now's your time to wake up! ("i used to") I ain't seen anyone for days, I still have yet to leave the bed.  I've just got nothing left to say, and I'm in no place to get it right.  And I'm not dangerous now, the way I used to be once.  I'm just too old for it now.  At least that seems to be true . . . it could be over if you change your mind ("change yr mind")  I remember when we were friends, heck, I remember I called you friend.  But I can't hear you any more.  You warned me about doing the heavy stuff, but then you dove straight in.  Thanks for that!  ("how do you sleep?")  Look, truth be told, we all have the same end.  Everybody's singing the same song.  I never realized all these artists thought so much about dying.  No use crying.  I'm telling you, this is the best news you've heard all week.  I promise you this, you're getting older.  People will taunt and badger you, tell you that you're missing a party that you'll never get over.  You hate the idea that you're wasting your youth and standing in the background and missing this incredible thing.  But that's all lies.  All lies.  ("tonite")  We don't waste time with love.  But should we?  I dunno, call the police, call the preachers, sing me the blues, it all goes downhill when we start arguing over the history of the Jews ("call the police")  Yes, I'm intense, I know.  I caught your eye when I stepped outside with my emotional haircut.  It seems I've been misunderstood.  You've got numbers on your phone of the dead you can't delete, and you've got life-affirming moments in your past that you can't repeat.  But you know what?  I'm on my feet!  Just listen to my heartbeat!  Listen to it now!  ("emotional haircut")  We really need to hang out again.  If you couldn't tell before, I'm bad with people things.  [insert existential sigh]  ("black screen")

You just read The D Man's part-verbatim, quasi-paraphrase, uber-shorthand essay describing LCD Soundsystem's mind-warp of an album, American Dream.  Aching, confused, and self-aware, this is not the cash grab album it could have been (arguably even should have been!) after making a triumphant comeback.  Instead, this is a confrontational and urgent record, angry about aging, sad about losing touch with friends and bewildered by changes that keep coming no matter how long you squint at it.

We all know James Murphy called it quits in 2011.  Wink, wink. After conquering the indie world with LCD's final show at Madison Square Garden (which was then chronicled in the documentary The Long Goodbye), Murphy wrote articles, collaborated on projects, produced records, and ultimately realized that he was best suited for, yes, of course, making the brainy dance-punk that shot him to stardom in the first place.

While hailed by some as LCD's political record by virtue of its frenetic tone, seemingly responding to the unease in New York City and much of the States, American Dream is actually Murphy's most deeply personal album.  Leaving behind the monuments of cool he built on career highlight This Is Happening, Murphy crackles with middle-aged angst as the world around him dissolves into a hyper-balkanized social media experiment gone wrong, where alienation heightens the panic of mortality, no matter how ironic or self-referential he becomes.  With the most rock-oriented songs of his career - ragged guitar riffs run around and collide with synthscapes - Murphy tries to exorcise demons with his late-era ramblings, as he puts it; perhaps if he keeps talking long enough, maybe he will find the words that summon the answers into existence.

8. I See You / The xx

Jamie xx crystallizes neon on The xx's third record, encasing the trio's nocturnal sound with a vibrant new glow.  After his stellar solo debut In Colour, it seemed a foregone conclusion that the band's palette would include a wider array of his EDM, UK garage, and rave flourishes.  I See You still shimmers under the romantic spells of Oliver Sim and Romy Madley-Croft, but the tracks are now cast in technicolor.

The most compelling part of the trio's music may be the negative space -- the naked pulses between notes, the longing build-up, the airiness of it all -- as if listeners are always stepping into the crisp chill of a London night, with light gleaming into the street from scattered windows.  The music moves and breathes with confidence, vulnerable, utterly gorgeous, and riddled with emotion.

Eight years in, there is still some mystery surrounding The xx.  The vocal restraint.  The cool remove.  The lyrics never revealing too much.  Sim and Madley-Croft wade into dreamy ambiguity despite their human desires, and their give-and-take sounding more urgent than ever.  The result is music as film, complete with suspense and dramatic arcs, as the rising action teases out and then climaxes in rushes or falls, powered by their combined voices or Jamie xx's production.

Unlike Coexist, which may have languished a little too long in the heartbreak of loneliness, I See You rekindles romance, leaving more room for the possibility of connection.  These are ultimately songs for lovers and dreamers.  Chase the elusive and you just might find it, go on, I dare you. 

9. Sleep Well Beast / The National

A die-hard fan can make a compelling argument that Sleep Well Beast belongs in the same discussion as the band’s previous records, which is unique proof that The National has reached a status few bands realize: sustained excellence over numerous albums.  Inhabiting an inimitable realm of brood rock, the Dessners (Bryce and Aaron), Devendorfs (Scott and Bryan), and Matt Berninger have carved out their own aesthetic space similar to the Radioheads of the world.

If you are counting at home, The National recorded four excellent/classic albums in a row from 2005 to 2013: the elliptical rock of Alligator, the masterful apartment stories of Boxer, the brooding grandeur of High Violet, and the private demon theater of Trouble Will Find Me.  Like those albums, Sleep Well Beast is a musical grower, slowly revealing layer after layer of personal paralysis and heartache.  This time, however, the five-piece embellish their grand songs with electronic textures, marking guitarist Aaron Dessner's most influential production work to date.  The new flourishes provide nuance to Matt Berninger's simmering melancholy and allow the slow-burning songs to breathe in fresh new ways.

Notwithstanding the bloodbuzz send-off "Day I Die" and the angular spit of "Turtleneck" and "The System Dreams in Total Darkness," Sleep Well Beast is easily the band's most subdued record.  Dessner's elegant piano compositions are the lynchpin throughout; paired with deft use of electronics, their darkly lush arrangements reveal new hollows for Berninger to haunt.  While some have identified post-Trump implications for the record's unease, make no mistake: Sleep Well Beast finds its bleeding heart in the marital glare of Berninger's wry empathy, caustic wit, and heart-wrenching monologues.

You're sleeping night and day
How'd you do it
Me I am wide awake
Feeling defeated
I say your name
I say I'm sorry
I'm no holiday
It's nobody's fault
No guilty party
We just got nothing
Nothing left to say

Berninger's milky lyrics and metaphors give way to the most pointed writing of his career.  His approach is more autobiographical than ever as he gives us a glimpse into his marriage with fiction editor Carin Besser.  Without assuming too much, songs like "Carin at the Liquor Store" are a dead giveaway.

The tenuous moments he describes are recognizable to new couples or years-long spouses.  An ominous piano frames the difficult conversations on stunning opener "Nobody Else Will Be There" ("Why are we still out here? / Holding our coats / We look like children / Goodbyes always take us half an hour / Can't we just go home?").

Stately keys and stuttering synths underpin the rich glory of "Born to Beg" ("Crushed on the train / We'd stand by the window / Sweat through the hard parts of June / We hugged it out and ducked it on purpose / Nothing else I needed to do").

"Empire Line" dials up drum machine forays, giving a dark-hued glint on long-term relationship difficulties ("You keep saying so many things that I wish you won't / Can't you find a way? / You're in this too?").

"Dark Side of the Gym" arches across a life at the hip - from first look to dreaming side by side - as Berninger swoons over the band's lightest instrumental touch ("So I'm gonna keep you in love with me for awhile").

The songs hang together like long-time partners, unafraid to ask hard questions but wary of the answers.  This is art imitating life imitating art.  A band in full possession of its considerable powers. Each member firing on all cylinders.  Reminding us of the impermanence of joy and the quiet beauty of trying to find it again, year after year, together.

10. Little Fictions / Elbow

Elegant, stately, and sharp, Elbow is a crown jewel of British songsmithing.  Along with its spectacular album Little Fictions, the band released a 28-song best of collection in 2017, lending credence to a career-spanning greatness that is often taken for granted.  Many of The D Man's favorite tracks did not even make the cut, another sign of a band with enduring staying power.

Elbow's seventh record is another triumph of craft, melody, understated emotion, and clever lyricism.  Little Fictions finds Guy Garvey newly in love in a post-Brexit world.  Written around the time of his wedding, the record stokes inner fires with subtle, beautiful tracks like "Kindling" and "Head for Supplies," and then soars with sweeping manifestos like "Magnificent (She Says)" and "Gentle Storm."  While his writing always romanticizes relationships of the heart, and then dips into homefront nostalgia and the passing of time, it has a little extra vinegar from recent political disappointments.

Hands up if you've never seen the sea
I'm from the land with an island status
Makes us think that everyone hates us
Maybe darling they do
But they haven't met you
They only know the villains at the tiller
And they gambled the farm on a headline, Jesus
Getting harder to see what they're doing 'til its done
And they're never gonna make an arrest on Fleet Street

"K2" is one of the best political songs of the year; witty and multi-faceted, Garvey shares deeply pessimistic British sentiments, worrying over little-man syndrome and the risk of cutting ties.  Nevertheless, Garvey cannot shake his native optimism, closing the song with a fierce hope.

Yes and I'm given to believing in love
I've written the word in my blood
And I perch on a shelf of the K2
Made of the believers that love
Opens the fist just enough for a hand
To slip into the hand

Over the past decade, The D Man's fondness for the Mercury Prize-winning band has increased with each album.  This is decidedly adult, hipster-free fare, so there is no reason to argue with rock critics who find the band too staid or polished.  When you find me a band that has written songs as strong or touching as this, this, this, or this, we can then have a meaningful conversation.

11. In A Mood / Slowdancer

The D Man always has a go-to album for date nights and other fortuitous moments.  Over the years it has covered Sade, Zero 7, Neyo, and Rhye, among others.  In A Mood captured the title this year, but then extended its influence into other realms, as its windswept charms worked from late afternoons to late nights and everything in between.  With a national reckoning regarding sexual misconduct, do not be afraid listeners; there are still records perfectly tailored for couples where enthusiastic agreement is the only way of life.

Simon Okely's entire aesthetic is on point in 2017.  From his album's hazy beachside cover to his sensuously unassuming videos, he taps into a west coast cool with his soft-focus blend of folk and indie R&B.  You can easily imagine Stevie Nicks playing this record in Laurel Canyon, drapes breezing in the wind, waves lapping somewhere in the distance.

Formerly the guitarist for Melbourne pop band Oh Mercy, Okely goes frontman with his nasally croon and melodic guitar chops.  As Slowdancer, he puts both talents to work with seductive results, mining blues-pop romance like Rhye and fleshing out gentle folk-rock like Big Star.  There is a little bit of everything here -- from smooth-jazz to soul and folk ballads to slow jams -- and the influences are intended to permeate the air for an out-of-time listening experience.

"In the Water" sounds like a '60s or '70s R&B track Okely grew up with while driving down the Australian coast in his family's station wagon.  "I try not to be caught up in trends and what's popular in music now and just focus on my passions, my influences."  So it goes on "Bitter," a scraggly, multi-dimensional track replete with vivid guitars, heavy bass, twinkling keys, and lush horns--it is utterly mournful and mesmerizing, pulled out of the setting sun of a fading postcard.

Lead single "Don't Believe" is romantic pop perfection with two would-be lovers feeling so close but so inherently alone.  "Turn away from the crowd / and the weight on your chest / play a song that's too loud / and reminds you're the best / well, you'll never be alone / But I bet you feel it coming home / I notice when you're on your own."

"I Would" is Nick Drake if he had seen the California sun.  The simple refrain is one of possibility and commitment:  "But you know I would / honey, you know I would / for you, you know I would."  The sexiest track on the album, "It Goes On," is blue-eyed Marvin Gaye on the prowl -- call it infatuation or just blind faith -- and finding himself every bit as dangerous.  If we create a new style, it will mean we can never be wrong!  Okely's lyrics leave plenty to the imagination, which he fully appreciates is where the magic resides.

Wilson Pickett, Fleetwood Mac, Neil Young -- the touchstones are everywhere -- but like other nodding records that will endure, In A Mood takes on a life of its own, allowing listeners to return again and again, and hopefully arm in arm.

12. Jay Som & Japanese Breakfast

It may be unfair to the talent of these Asian-American women, but Melina Duterte and Michelle Zauner were paired together in The D Man's 2017 listening habits.  Both artists recorded superb indie-rock affairs that would be comfortable in multiple decades; from the early-'90s to the mid-'00s to today, their records as Jay Som and Japanese Breakfast jump off the soundboard with a timeless alternative feel.

Unpretentious and affectionate, 22 year-old Duterte produced a better debut record than anyone in her age group, to say nothing of artists twice her age.  Her songcraft and style feels downright effortless.  Everybody Works is confident, guitar-driven dream-pop, held seamlessly together by a cozy bedroom aesthetic, as if Duterte is just turning out tracks in between college classes and late-night shifts.  (Indeed, she recorded the surprisingly glossy album in her bedroom).  The pace is relaxed and the tone is inviting; a sort of pretty haze hangs over the mesmerizing 36-minute record.

"The Bus Song" starts with simple acoustic strums and Duterte's lonely voice - the alienation of public transportation(?) - and then it channels chimey guitar builds and swelling trumpets as our destination arrives.  "Remain" coos with shadowy romance, as her breathy vocals overwrite slinky guitars lifted from the Cutting Crew or the Cocteau Twins.  "One More Time, Please" snakes into one of the best guitar solos of the year, a spaced-out moonshot that flies right out her upstairs window.  "Baybee" is funky and slick with sinewy bass/synth lines cascading over each other until her sweetheart finally listens.

Zauner creates an emotional kaleidoscope on her aptly-titled sophomore record Soft Sounds from Another Planet.  Dabbling in shoegaze, electro-pop, ambience, and straight-ahead guitar rock, she moves in and out of styles without hesitation, leaving listeners bewildered and beguiled in the best of ways, as her pliable voice congeals her wandering muses together.  Forceful and raw one moment and almost tender the next, Zauner wrestles with feminism, trauma, and disintegration, reeling underneath the twinkling stars that circle her heaviest metaphors.  Bodies, machines, blades, women, death, it's all here for the po-mo post-mortem.

The planetary krautrock on "Diving Woman" is expansive, as Zauner's pillowy vocals run across driving guitars and ambient noise, opening up the album's spacey motif.  "Machinist" is sparkling, auto-tuned electronica, almost a club jam from a future Blade Runner joint; when the saxophone appears, you know you're in the right place.  The title track is a forlorn little love ballad while "Jimmy Fallon Big!" surges with weary resignation.  "Till Death" is the album's most straight-ahead cut and as a result may be its most touching, as Zauner strains under the weight of life's cruelties and disappointments.

13. Process / Sampha

Process was a deserving winner of 2017’s Mercury Prize, the highest musical honor from the United Kingdom and Ireland.  Having scored successful collaborations with Drake, Kanye, Solange, and Jessie Ware, among others, Sampha Sisay avoids an overly commercial route with his first full-length, instead charting an ambitious course through electronic R&B with sophisticated tempo changes, flourishes of piano and strings, and zeitgeisty beats and knob-twiddles.  The results are sometimes spine-chilling and always pristine, as he unspools vignettes of his life as a young black man and South Londoner.

Sampha’s futuristic soul can start sounding icy, but then his voice kicks in and pulls everything into a warm, cathartic core.  His spellbinding world is lit by the invitation of not only his voice, but his own searching humanity, reaching for healing and understanding in the wake of personal upheaval.  As an autobiographical record, Process plays out his coming of age with delicate focus, cataloging his longing and worry as the relationships around him are fissured by time or space.

Highlights include the soul-searing opener, the running desperation of "Blood on Me," the hurling self-realization of "Reverse Faults," and the heavenly prison of "Prayer for Timmy."  The nocturnal arrangements seep in at the edges of his aching voice as the light he seeks looks distant and elusive.  Sampha finally finds home, if only for a moment, in the touching solo "No One Knows Me (Like the Piano)," easily one of the year's most beautiful songs.

14. Near to the Wild Heart of Life / Japandroids

Life-affirming and towering, Near to the Wild Heart of Life is one of the year’s great rock records.  While it may not touch the same skies as the triumphant punk-pop of instant classic Celebration Rock, Japandroids’ third album crackles with a different kind of intensity, as the Canadian duo of Brian King and David Prowse open up their kinetic sound to shades of The Who, The Boss, and The Replacements.

Thankfully, Japandroids are still wide-eyed and optimistic. You will be moved.  Fists will be raised and anthems will be sung.  Here, however, the guys are more willing to run in new directions, as the additions of synths, acoustic guitars, and mid-tempo strummers offer contrasting textures to their breakneck pace.  The changes showcase promising new song-writing chops, which is a wise transition given the difficulty of reaching the same furious climaxes of tracks like “The House That Heaven Built."  Sometimes you have to climb down and let the rabble-rousing find other places to go.

The title track is a gas.  It details the protagonist’s escape to near the wild heart of life, which is presumably the place where you find rock’n’roll and run down your dreams forever.  His best friend – “with passion and pure provocation” – implores him to “succumb to the city and surrender” because “you can’t condemn your love / to linger here and die / can’t leave your dreams to chance / or to a spirit in the sky.”  So our hero relents with one of the best chorus sing-alongs of the year:

And it got me all fired up

To go far away

And make some ears ring from the sound of my singing, baby

So I left my home

And all I had

I used to be good

But now I’m bad

Fast forward to tracing the country on tour, our hero now rocks the heartland on “North South East West," galvanizing the dream of drums and guitars into something approaching early R.E.M. by way of Thin Lizzy.  “I'm Sorry (For Not Finding You Sooner)” is a fuzzed-out exercise in shoegaze punk; it slowly creeps into a surprisingly effective track.  “Arc of Bar” straddles the album's center with synth reverbs and a more deliberate pace, barely held together by virtue of its fizzy guitar glue.  It is the one album track that has consistently divided critics and fans, but the overall sonics are an interesting exercise albeit maybe the song is a tad too long.

“Midnight to Morning” is more familiar territory but uses acoustic guitars to drive its bleary-eyed paean to the night.  "No Known Drink or Drug" sparkles with adrenaline-building oohs and aahs and is destined to be a rallying cry on the band's concert setlist.  "In a Body Like a Grave" is a killer closer, the band's final metaphor of desire, escape, and transformation, leaping beyond the limitations of the here and now, pouring spirit and heart into something approaching a personal creed.  The message is clear: chase your passions, do not slow down for anyone, and if you need a soundtrack, you will know just where to find it.

15. There Is No Love In Fluorescent Light / Stars

There is No Love in Fluorescent Light is a swooning collection of supremely crafted electro-pop songs.  The Canadian band's youthful abandon has given way to more adult concerns as the sparks now fly by way of a more mature and centered approach; some of the bombast has evolved over the years to tempos and rhythms suitable to the romantic pursuits of middle age.  This is not to say the record lacks punch – the dance beats and guitar flurries still throttle – but the production leaves space enough for Amy Millan’s and Torquil Campbell's give-and-take to glimmer with both regret and sky-scraping possibility.

Hailing from the exploding Montreal music scene during the early ‘00s (see Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Wolf Parade), Stars immediately created tracks with sweeping city-light romance.  Stars and Broken Social Scene often swapped members for performances in their early days and Millan still made appearances on this year’s excellent Hug of Thunder.  This collaborative approach endures with Millan's and Campbell's shared lead vocal duties; their platonic chemistry is the primary catalyst for the band's moxy and charm. 

Stars hit a zenith with 2005’s Set Yourself on Fire, a supernal indie-pop record with gems like “Your Ex-Lover is Dead,” “Reunion,” “Ageless Beauty,” and the title track.  Since then, the band has released several good to great records, with this year’s effort arguably the finest of the bunch.  Millan and Campbell's interplay is again endearing, reminding listeners that they moved us well before The xx hit the stage.

“Privilege” bubbles along invitingly, the perfect mid-tempo hush for Millan’s sweet voice.  “Fluorescent Light” seeks the moonlit air as an escape from staid domestic restrictions, belting along with sincere desire--no one falls in love under fluorescent light!   "Real Thing" skips with synths and hand-claps until it hits a chugging chorus and a sneaky little electric guitar fill.  There is not a weak track on the album, even if "Gift of Love" comes closest to sappy.  "Losing to You" turns darker over the worries of a teetering relationship, sentiments that can only be described by a couple that has been in it together for a long time.

Sometimes the leads get their own spotlight.  "Hope Avenue" allows Millan to luxuriate in a starry groove, while "Alone" showcases Campbell's pleasant, stretched-out voice, as he pleads for comforting company amid the lush backing of synths, trumpets, and saxophones.  After listening to the tracks in sequence, one can only feel the hope of lasting love and deep relationships, gorgeously rendered by artists that have clearly experienced both.

16. Goths / The Mountain Goats

The D Man has never been a member of John Darnielle's literate cult of outsiders, but after The Mountain Goats' last two records (numbers 15 and 16!), it is time to be fully initiated.  On 2015's Beat the Champ, Darnielle penned a rollicking love letter to professional wrestling and the strange allure down-and-out characters from that '70s and '80s scene had in his formative years.  This year Darnielle created a concept record for goths, yes, goths, and the result is an equally enjoyable romp through the underground of that black, pasty, and tear-stained population.

Probably the first Mountain Goats record with grooves, Goths ditches lo-fi in favor of rich bass lines and easy-listening horn accompaniments.  Leaving behind any hint of lead guitar, the record breathes with a more fulsome production, underpinning a spacey and slightly darker vibe which, obviously, befits the black eyeliner of the devoted.  To be clear, however, this is not a goth record; most of the songs would fit comfortably in an adult contemporary bin were it not for their peculiar fascination.

While the record dips into nostalgia, it never loses its footing in sentimentalism, primarily because Darnielle's deadpan wordiness gives life and location to the goths all around us.  These are proximate ghosts.  Haunting us everywhere.  From cities The Cure played on its recent tour, from Leeds to Chicago, from the rain-soaked streets of SoHo to the strip malls in California.  Darnielle's story songs bring vamps of all kinds - working stiffs, wannabes, and warlocks - into the light and up for air.

The D Man's favorite track is "Abandoned Flesh," a send-up of the '80s British goth band Gene Loves Jezebel.  ("Robert Smith is secure in his villa in France / Any child knows how to do the spiderweb dance" and later, "To be fair to Gene Loves Jezebel / Billy Corgan brought them on stage / It was 2011 / It's on their Wikipedia page.")  The song's arty playfulness highlights the sort of yarns Darnielle spins, all of them throbbing with the pulse of the decidedly undead.

17. After Laughter / Paramore

After Laughter is an undeniably hooky escape from depressing news feeds, even if the subject matter is often depression itself.  Haley Williams reflects on aging, anxiety, and depression, masking her paralysis with clever lyrics and buoyant energy (“I’m going to draw my lipstick wider than my mouth”).  It is apparent that she has battled with noonday demons, and her descriptions, understated and succinct, are the perfect foil to the band’s otherwise exuberant playing.

There is something uniquely empowering about singing through hard times against the countervailing force of sunny-sounding music.  Michael Angelekos (Passion Pit) comes to mind as another songwriter that has masterfully described mental health issues against a bright-colored backdrop.  Many bands have attempted the transition from rock to keyboard-inflected pop music, but few are as successful as Paramore's welcome foray.  Justin Meldal-Johnson produced the record alongside guitarist/bassist Taylor York, who does zippy work track after track.  Meldal-Johnson's retro-synth bona fides (Beck, NIN, M83, Air) can be traced throughout this glossy affair, however, wisely, the songs never abandon York's crisp and biting fretwork.

Having pigeon-holed Paramore as third-generation emo-rock for teeny-boppers, the band’s fifth album pushed The D Man’s buttons and afforded better appreciation for Williams and her considerable talent as a frontwoman.  She absolutely captivates while singing over layered and bouncy 80s synths; the electro-pop revival suits the band and her naturally peppy and vivid vocals. 

20-18. Weezer, The Killers, Ryan Adams

These three veteran artists are lumped together in 2017.  It just made intuitive sense.  They have achieved mainstream success to varying degrees and all enjoy ongoing fandoms that fill arenas to large theaters.  They influenced our culture but have long heard from critics that their only notable artistic success occurred in their early days with The Blue Album, Hot Fuss, and Heartbreaker, yada yada.  They have pressed on with aplomb even if some uneven output is scattered among otherwise great singles and good albums.  Although their 2017 efforts were not revelatory in some significant way, they were enjoyable from front to back and bore the brunt of repeated listens.  Sometimes the most durable records are those that deliver the goods in an expected fashion.

Weezer’s Pacific Daydream sounds exactly like you think it would.  Big hooks and wall-of-sound harmonies.  Polished guitar riffs.  Rivers Cuomo’s goofy sincerity.  Free of any irony, the album is carefree SoCal on a hot summer’s day, and you would be hard-pressed to find another record from this year that is more accessible, catchy, and charming.  Some have moaned over the ultra-gloss production but when you are playing to 10,000 most nights the pull is enticing.  So what?  Weezer is responsible for generational garage (The Blue Album) and emo (Pinkerton) albums, in addition to spectacular misfits (Maladroit).  Though the band has always chased the pure joy of playing guitar-pop, audiences hoist heavy and sometimes unreasonable expectations on Cuomo’s shoulders.  It should be no shock that this album sits right in that unencumbered sweet spot.

The Killers’ Wonderful Wonderful is the band’s fifth studio album and arguably its best since Sam’s Town.  The songs offer a concise electro-rock rundown of what makes the Vegas boys’ earnestness so appealing.  Flowers and his mates reach for huge, often fall short, but nevertheless rocket for the bright lights, this time doing it with a winking nod to their own yearning.  In an age when stadium stars are few and far between, this sort of self-belief matters.  As one critic pleaded with the band even after a middling review: “Please don’t let anything deter you. . . . If you can hold on, you gotta help us out.”

Ryan Adams’ Prisoner is heartland Trans Am rock with a glint of sadness.  Written in the wake of Adams’ divorce from Mandy Moore, the wistful songs might crack under the weight of it all were they not so expertly crafted, buffed out to shining chrome perfection.  The retro-rock production was meant for the highway, steel and rubber peeling off for new sunsets when the mistakes and doubts start crowding out what might have been.  Prisoner easily falls in the upper half of Adams’ discography and is imminently enjoyable even after dozens of listens.

Critics tend to discount fully-formed artists the deeper they move through their career.  The contours of a band's sound and aesthetic have often been defined, and new material must be judged against the heft of a back catalog.  It's an easy narrative to say promising first album!  Amazing follow-up!  Transcendent third album!  But what happens when bands find themselves at album 5, 11, or 16, as is the case with The Killers, Weezer, and Adams?  The D Man resists the urge to discount bands (or someone) you know very well, limitations and all.  They can still surprise or delight you.

The Ten Best Musical Moments of 2017

The D Man is back from his sabbatical and ready to finish the year with a flurry.  Enjoy the Ten Best Musical Moments of 2017.  Things are looking up!  The Top 20 Albums of the Year to follow and other sundry goods!

10.  Huey Lewis: “I know what you’ve been thinking. I know what you want. I’m a professional.” Then the News rip into “Power of Love” for the encore.
9.  Getting obsessed with The Church’s 1982 record The Blurred Crusade.
8.  Depeche Mode gassing the synths on “Everything Counts” during its summer show: It’s a competitive world!
7.  Watching Alex Cameron’s killer video for the first time with Mrs. D Man.
6.  Catching Kurt Vile on the big stage doing some “Pretty Pimpin.”
5.  Shaking at the IMAX to Hans Zimmer’s score for Blade Runner 2049.
4.  Enjoying Daywave’s great set and a fantastic cover of New Order’s “Ceremony."
3. My son Evan rapping along to this song about the 50 states and their capitals: Madison, Wisconsin, that's where I want to be!
2.  Watching and hearing Adam Granduciel (The War on Drugs) shred on his red 1966 Gibson Firebird.
1.  Listening to Sigur Ros at sunset while driving back from the Fjallsarlon Lagoon in Iceland.

Songs of Summer

What tunes will reign this summer?  A worthy question to ask heading into a long Memorial Day weekend.  Drake's "Passionfruit" and just about everything from Kendrick Lamar's DAMN. will certainly clamor for top billing.  But what other tracks have a chance to infiltrate every bike or car cruise under the sun?  Here are a few early contenders.

• "Gwan" by Rostam.  One of Vampire Weekend's musical masterminds, Rostam Batmanglij has previewed some solo tracks coming of the heels of his excellent collaboration with Hamilton Leithauser.  This dewy-eyed paean to both the soul and the city can properly open any summer day filled with potential glory.
• "J-Boy" by Phoenix.  The D Man has already praised this neon-infused track from the band's forthcoming Ti Amo.
• "Hug of Thunder" by Broken Social Scene.  The Canadian supergroup clearly has more tricks up its collective sleeves with this off-kilter and rhythmic anthem.  But let's be clear: Feist's superb vocal performance makes it all go.
• "Something Here" by Day Wave.  It is difficult to exclude anything from Day Wave's proper debut, all chilled out in nostalgic summertime haze.
• "Call the Police" by LCD Soundsystem.  This much anticipated track grooves and rocks with all the arch cool listeners have come to expect.
• "Want You Back" by Haim.  The L.A. sisters bring the backing harmonies and big-pop dreams with this Number One hit potential.
• "Hard Times" by Paramore.  After Laughter is a really enjoyable listen.  Hayley Williams and her mates dive into 80s pop and find themselves thrust beyond emo and into new comparisons with the likes of Churches or Carly Rae Jepsen.

Song of the Week

Slowdive's self-titled record sparkles.  The British shoegaze stalwarts sound fresh and inspired even after a 22-year hiatus.  The music's dreamy and dissonant textures rival anything from the band's 90's alt-rock heyday.  The song's are gorgeous and transportive, impeccably detailed and produced, showcasing a startling range in mood that usually flutters somewhere between Rachel Goswell's evocative register and Neil Halstead's ringing guitar.  Check out opening track "Slomo," "Star Roving," "Sugar for the Pill," and every other giftworthy song.

Five Things

• The War On Drugs released an 11-minute epic called "Thinking of A Place."  The mid-tempo song gathers up the haze, as Adam Granduciel's guitar works patient, nostalgic wonders that break through, sounding fresh and immediate.
• Check out another stellar track from Planetarium.  Sufjan's vocals are moving, as always, and the Spirit can be felt almost instantly.
• Phoenix just dropped its first single from Ti Amo, the French band's forthcoming sixth studio album.  It sounds like the guys have been listening to a ton of Neon Indian!
• Passion Pit released its fourth album for free.  Tremendous Sea of Love is a collection of songs that was recorded over the past couple of years.  Check out slow jam "Hey K."
• Danish band Mew drops its new record Visuals.  Stoked.  Enjoy "85 Videos."

The War On Drugs - Thinking Of A Place from Record Store Day on Vimeo.

Five Things

• Planetarium will be released on June 9.  Sufjan Stevens, Bryce Dessner (The National), Nico Muhly (string/production savant), and James McAlister (percussionist) have been workshopping the celestially-themed music for years, and various songs have made appearances in the Netherlands, the Brooklyn Academy of Music, and the MusicNow Festival in Cincinnati.  Check out the video for first single "Saturn."
• Gorillaz recently performed new album Humanz live in London.  Everyone's favorite cartoon ape concept band is back with some fresh sounding club jams.  Enjoy "Andromeda."
• Shoegaze champions Slowdive are back with the band's first album in 22 years.  Check out "Star Roving."
• Real Estate released another guitar tab video for "Stained Glass" from In Mind.
• Early spring vibes with 2016's most under-appreciated album from The Amazing.

Song of the Week

Fleet Foxes new album (six long years!) comes in June.  Enjoy "Third of May / Odaigahara" when you get a chance.  New song, well-worn vibes.  "Aren't we made to be crowded together, like leaves?"

Song of the Week

Julie Byrne's lush folk album is a natural beauty.  Amid stunning production values, Not Even Happiness showcases Byrne's expert arrangements, fluid fingerpicking, and gorgeous alto, as she moves through tales that incorporate the land and her traveling spirit, at once earthy and ethereal.  Enjoy a live rendition of "Natural Blue," one of the album's many gems among the rolling fields of her subtle visions.

Song of the Week

Our favorite Swedish pop troubadour is back with his first album in five years.  Life Will See You Now is jam packed with Jens Lekman's bittersweet brand of literate whimsy.  Guitars, pianos, horns, and strings will set listeners aloft in melancholy bliss, in what is perhaps his sunniest effort to date.

The opening track, "To Know Your Mission," recounts 16-year-old Jens' conversation with a Mormon missionary in 1997.  It is arguably the finest pop song ever written about Mormonism, treating it with a spirit of generosity, and deftly using a young missionary's higher purpose as a springboard to the artist's sincere dreams.  "But in a world full of mouths / I want to be an ear / If there's a purpose to all this / then that's why God put me here."  Amen, Jens.  An obvious, amen.

Five Things

• Guy Garvey can sing your dinner menu and make it sound stately and grand.  Elbow drops Little Fictions tomorrow and new single "Magnificent (She Says)" is, well, magnificent.  Guitarist Mark Potter says the album is "the sound of four people who love what they do, and each other."
• Real Estate's lead single "Darling" hinges its chorus on a single adverb: impatiently.  But the track from forthcoming fourth album In Mind is anything but irritating, as the band's interlocking guitar grooves infiltrate like a warm breeze through a covered porch.
• Ryan Adams released another song from Prisoner.  It's the best one yet.  Check out "Doomsday."
• So apparently John Mayer is releasing four songs a month until the entirety of The Search for Everything is released.  I've really enjoyed the laid-back and fluid guitar pop on "Moving On and Getting Over" and "Love on the Weekend."
• Fionn Regan shared the new video for "The Meetings of the Waters," starring fellow Irishman Cillian Murphy.

Song of the Week

Jamie xx crystallizes neon on The xx's third record, encasing the trio's nocturnal sound with a vibrant new glow.  After his stellar In Colour, it almost seemed a foregone conclusion that the band's palette would include a wider array of his EDM, UK garage, and rave flourishes.  But make no mistake:  I See You still shimmers under the romantic, give-and-take spells of Oliver Sim and Romy Madley Croft; it is now just cast in technicolor.  Check out the excellent dance track "I Dare You."

18 Songs I Can Listen To A Thousand Times

There are many excellent songs.  But some are more sturdy than others, inviting constant attention. Why do some songs allow for repeated, no, seemingly endless listens, while others require periods of extended rotation regardless of how good they are?  Such sturdy songs seem to have their genetic code written into our personal DNA, burrowing deep into our musical nervous system.  We can go there, over and over.

To be clear, it is not always my all-time favorite songs that elicit overwhelming listens (though all of these tracks below can qualify for vaunted status).  Often my favorites need to stay on the shelf for periods of time before I pick them up again to savor their sounds.  For example, Sufjan Stevens' "Predatory Wasp" is an all-timer, to be sure, but I often find myself holding it back for select occasions when the moment is juuuust right.  (Anyone else do that with certain tracks?).  

The songs on this list, however, require no special aging.  I can listen to them anytime, anywhere.  Indeed, were they to play on a constant loop, it would be more blessing than curse.  I'm sure there are numerous tracks I've overlooked, but these were the first to come to mind, probably because they are part of my permanent hardware.

• "Age of Consent" by New Order (1983).  I have never turned the station when "Bizarre Love Triangle" or "Regret" comes on.  So it goes for the opening track from Power, Corruption & Lies.  The dueling guitars and bass line, the pulsing drum machine, and the synths coming in like analog violins.  Always and forever.
• "Under the Milky Way" by The Church (1988).  Wish I knew what you were looking for / might have known what you would find.  One of my favorite pre-chorus builds in all of contemporary pop music, the moody splendor of this immaculate song from one of history's most underrated bands always gets me somewhere, almost.  Sing and repeat.
• "Blue Sky Mine" by Midnight Oil (1990).  Hey, hey, hey, hey!  From one of my desert island discs, I can (and have) listened to this track hundreds of times and it is always urgent.  Who's gonna save me?
• "Here's Where the Story Ends" by The Sundays (1990).  Come to think of it, I think I did have Static & Silence on repeat for an entire summer.  But this perfect track from 1990's Reading, Writing and Arithmetic makes me feel just as tongue tied as Harriet Wheeler's voice.
• "All This Time" by Sting (1991).  I could have never guessed that this Soul Cages track (maybe my favorite solo album) would end up being one of my go-to bed time songs for the kids.
• "Have You Seen Me Lately" by Counting Crows (1998).  I wore out August and Everything After in my basement bedroom.  I can sing every word of every song.  (My 2003 performance of Mr. Jones on a Royal Caribbean Cruise is the stuff of legend).  But something about this live performance of "Have You Seen Me Lately" from Recovering the Satellites is Adam Duritz at his neurotic and believable best.
• "Race for the Prize" by The Flaming Lips (1999).  They're just humans with wives and children!  One of my favorite lines and send-offs from any song.  Off-kilter, woozy glory.
• "Silver & Gold" by Neil Young (2000).  Another bed-time lullaby staple at my house.  My three-year old knows every word because her old man does too.
• "Homesick" by Kings of Convenience (2004).  The Kings are a way of life.
• "Desire" by Ryan Adams (2002).  If I could count the times I've listened to Demolition, let alone this acoustic ballad, I would be a quantum physicist.  One of Mrs. D Man's all-time favorites, which has only added to a decade plus of fantastic moments with one of rock's best sad sack romantics.
• "Streetlights" by Josh Rouse (2005).  From the superb Nashville.  I go to this well all of the time.
• "Abacus" by Fionn Regan (2007).  The Irish folk troubadour's The End of History is an all-too hidden gem.  Bon Iver sampled lines from this song on his recent album: And the days have no number.
• "Hearts on Fire" by Cut Copy (2008).  From the fantastic dance-rock album In Ghost Colours.  My boys love this band, so thankfully I'm all in.  Start moving.
• "Laredo" by Band of Horses (2008).  Oh, my love, don't you even know?  Oh, my love, are you really gone?
• "Daniel" by Bat for Lashes (2009).  Sheesh, I love this song.  Dark, pulsating romance.
• "Gustavo" by Mark Kozelek (2011).  Arguably the greatest story song of this century, with Koz's incomparable writing all empathetic melancholy.  I can tap into the flow and feeling at any given moment.
• "Midnight City" by M83 (2011).  Seriously, can anyone, anywhere, turn this dance anthem off?
• "The Less I Know The Better" by Tame Impala (2015).  This groove is undefeated in its short time on the scene.  And there are no signs of stopping it.