Usually, I can’t tell which is which until later.

I’m trying to move away from acquiring new CDs. The one that I bought last night was the new I Am Robot And Proud album, The Electricity In Your House Wants To Sing, which they didn’t have in stock on vinyl. C’est la vie. But regarding CDs: they have a lot of upsides. Convenience is probably the primary one. They’re smaller and more portable than records, and even though I use an iPod for almost any listening I do outside of my house, that is an attractive feature. Especially given that I’ve moved 5 times in the last 4 years. They’re also convenient in the sense that I can pop them into my CD drive, rip them, and have them available for listening, copying, adding to a portable device, burning, etc. without ever having to fuss with packaging or anything. They’re a completely ubiquitous format, available and playable basically everywhere, and despite rising prices and complaints of overcharging by labels, they’re still relatively affordable, especially at larger stores that can afford to order in large quantities and discount to their customers. They’re also capable of a high level of audio fidelity, and while debate rages among audiophiles over the relative quality differences between vinyl and CD, I’ve found that each format complements different musical and engineering styles. They’re incredibly practical, all things considered.

That said, I’m increasingly disenchanted with them, for reasons personal and philosophical.

Let’s start with the more tangible reasons. Larger labels are increasingly trying to shoehorn DRM schemes into the CD format, crippling the very convenience and flexibility that makes them appealing. Also, the current Loudness War being waged in the world of major label popular music (and which is currently bleeding over to the realm of smaller labels and niche genres) in the name of competitive volume comes at the expense of the sonic fidelity that CDs were originally engineered to offer. On both of these fronts, the format is being undermined by middlemen with no concern for either the customers or artists.

There’s an aesthetic difference between vinyl and CD as well. While I find blanket statements of either format’s superiority somewhat silly (they both have upsides and downsides, some of which are emphasized by different musical material), it’s tough to deny the physical and auditory appeal of well-pressed, well-mastered, and well-cared for vinyl records, even without investing a small fortune in top of the line audiophile gear. My cheap turntable coupled with Serene’s cheap stereo would give an audio purist a heart attack, but it works well enough to hear whatever subtle differences exist.

Philosophically, vinyl offers a more direct connection to the music. Even though most music recorded today goes through digital conversion processes before being released, the grooves on a record are physically analogous (hence the name “analog”) to the final waveform being reproduced. It’s nice to know that after the Oil Crash (yes, this is hyperbole), a needle and piece of paper are all that will be needed to listen to a record. Try listening to a CD without electricity!

Not a very convincing case for dropping CDs, I know, but most of my decision is more personal, and relates more to listening habits. I have hundreds of CDs, and hundreds more CDs worth of downloaded music (don’t sue me). I’ve found that the overabundance of music, and the increasing separation between music-as-experience and music-as-object tends to lead (at least in my personal habits) to a sense of disconnection. This is more a product of the availability of free music online than any issues related to CDs themselves, but bear with me here. Most of my music listening is being done now on my computer or my iPod, usually during some other activity. When I bought new CDs, they would be opened, liner notes perused, ripped, shelved, and rarely touched again. Music became a background, an endless cornucopia of sounds to be chosen as background to other tasks. There was so much to listen to that it was difficult to find time for repeat listens to anything that didn’t grab me straight off the bat. Considering that some of my favorite albums (OK Computer, The Milk Eyed Mender, Vespertine, among others) didn’t reveal their charms immediately, this is troubling. How much music have I bought and downloaded and filed away without giving a real chance? I also noticed that I was becoming bad at remembering song titles, track orders, lyrics. I’d find myself sitting down to make a mix CD and not really knowing what half the songs I wanted to use were about. I’d hear a track come up on shuffle and wonder what it was, because it was towards the end of an album I’d never finished listening to.

So part of the appeal of vinyl is a closer connection to the music. My turntable is in the front room, away from my computer desk, and even though I use laptops, wireless internet, and VNC in order to access anything on any computer in my network from anywhere in the house, removing myself from that setting helps to put the focus on the act of listening. Having to deal with the packaging again puts the focus back on relating to the music as an experience with a physical, tactile aspect, and encourages reading tracklists and liner notes and lyrics. It makes music less of a commodity and more of an experience. Listening becomes something to do, rather than something that happens in the background. Vinyl facilitates engaging with music in a way that CDs and MP3s don’t.

I’m not giving up on CDs completely. I’m not going to give up my iPod or digital music collection. I’m not going to stop downloading music (in fact, I’m going to make sure to download copies of whatever I buy on vinyl, when possible). I recognize, that there are plenty of upsides to the wide availability of digital music (most notably the ease of acquiring rare or out-of-print material and easier access to the history of recorded music, leading to the potential to wider exposure to music of different styles and eras). But for me, right now, the shift of mindset that comes with a shift of format feels more beneficial than convenience.

Wow, that was long and self-indulgent. Sorry.

OK, so I guess that means it’s time for the second installment of my year-end music list. Everybody does them, and everybody who doesn’t do them complains about them. And often for good reasons. But they do help you reflect on things alittle, don’t they?

So, again, this is not a definitive Best Of list, nor is it strictly a Music of 2005 list (although it is predominantly that). Like last year, it’s more like a personal reflection on what I liked, disliked, listened to, and thought about during the year, heavily weighted to 2005 releases, but with a few outsider albums slipped in because it’s my list and I make the rules. If you don’t like it, write your own list, because as obnoxious and overdone as year-end lists can be, they’re still less tedious to read than most complaints about year-end lists. So here we go, in no particular order….

2005 Releases:

Venetian Snares: Rossz Csillag Allat Sz?letett
As I mentioned last year, Venetian Snares has never been a favorite of mine, despite his high volume of output. His 2004 Album, Huge Chrome Cylinder Box Unfolding, made my year-end list though, and I guess I can officially call myself a fan after being blown away by his second of 3(!!!) 2005 full-lengths. The combination of manic drill n’ bass and symphonic samples shoved together into actual song structures makes a compelling argument for Aaron Funk’s abilities as a producer. Detractors will point out that the hard part, compositionally speaking, was done by whoever arranged the original string parts that were sampled here, but I think that’s an oversimplification of the issues of authorship at hand here. In an age where even the lowly mash-up (and talk about a lazy, tired excuse for a musical revolution) can be considered an accomplishment , Rossz Cillag can surely be afforded the same consideration.

Beck: Guero (Expanded Edition)
Has Beck ever really made a throwback record? He’s flung himself into so many categories and genres over the course of the last decade-plus, but even when he’s revisiting similar styles, it seems he has something new to bring to the table. Odelay was not Mellow Gold II, despite borrowing from many of the same sources, Sea Change was not Mutations II or One Foot in the Grave II despite all three albums reliance on folk/country roots and an increasing use of narrative lyrics. And Guero, although criticized by some, is hardly Odelay II. Beck has brought a more considered lyrical approach and lessons from all his previous albums, regardless of their foundations, to bear on this strong collection of songs. The Dust Brothers are dependably adventurous in their role recycling cultural detritus into ass-shaking grooves. I give the expanded, limited edition version of this album the nod over the regular release due to the presence of several tracks that could easily have been included on the “official” version of the tracklist, and despite the fact the the DVD portion was a pretty weak collection of visual wallpaper.

Sufjan Stevens: Come on Feel The Illinoise!
What 2005 year end list would be complete without a nod to this one? Everyone in the dancing-about-architecture game seemed to wet themselves over the second of 50 state themed albums, paving the way for an inevitable post-year-end-list backlash, but really, how can you hate an album that brings together the delicate literacy of Simon & Garfunkel and the warm, sometimes orchestral pomp of Brian Wilson? The album is pervaded by a sense of wonder and grandeur, even when it dips into darker subjects like genocide, murder, and disease.

Meneguar: I Was Born At Night
Dark yet anthemic indie rock, with maybe a trace of hardcore for good measure. The album is short in a way that leaves you longing for more, rough and contrarian in it’s approach, but undeniably, fist-pumpingly good. Everything it lacks in technical accomplishment on the production end it more than repays in songwriting potency and sheer performance energy. It sounds raw and haphazard, like the band could barely be captured on tape. In a just world, “The Temp” would be a best-selling single.

13 & God: 13 & God
Like Hood’s Cold House, this collaboration album between German electro/rock hybrid the Notwist and Anticon’s Themselves (aka Doseone and Jel) blends off-kilter hip-hop and nasal rapping with forward thinking pop to excellent effect. Never relying too heavily on either groups strengths (except perhaps the Notwist-esque single, “Men of Station”), instead 13 & God forms a fully realized amalgamation of the two band’s sounds. Haunting, melancholic and cerebral work that comfortably straddles a number of genres without giving into the cliches associated with any of them.

Hanne Hukkleberg: Little Things
I sort of hesitate to put this on my list, because I only recently heard it, and part of the appeal may just be in the newness. I first heard of Ms. Hukkelberg on Sutekh’s recent remix collection, Born Again (see honorable mentions below). His remix of her track “Ease” is absolutely the standout track of that compilation, and her lyrics and delivery contain so much personality that I just had to seek out the original. I was not disappointed by what I heard: jazzy pop songs that capture a childlike sense of wonder and playfulness, with soft, unique backing (from members of Jaga Jazzist). Like a less dour M?m, or a more whimsical Bjork (yes, I said MORE whimsical).

John Vanderslice: Pixel Revolt
A little mellower than his previous album, Cellar Door, and a little more thoughtful and clever. Perhaps a little less lyrically unified than that album, too, focusing more on a series of first person narratives from the viewpoint of various characters, several related to the Iraq war (or is it the Iraq War?), and several less topical. As always, a vast assortment of instruments and sounds are used here, always incredibly crisp and well-chosen. This is an excellent album by a songwriter/producer who continues to grow and impress. Equally appreciated is the succinct User’s Guide to the album, a welcome extra in an age where liner notes have disappeared from album packaging without a trace.

Why?: Elephant Eyelash
Probably the most conventional sounding album that Anticon has released so far, but that’s not really saying a whole lot, as much of their catalog sounds to many people like aliens rapping. But Yoni Wolff has always been the sentimental, melodic one of the bunch, and by expanding his Why? project to a live, touring rock band he’s really embraced that role. There are still lo-fi, skittering beats and toy-keyboard sounds, nasal rapping, odd sampling and processing, and wildly inventive production, but they’re all given homes inside of (for the most part) traditionally structured songs, with melodies and vocal harmonies and choruses. For a record that sounds so sunny, the lyrics are surprisingly morbid and death-obsessed, when they’re not inscrutably weird. It’s like he couldn’t decide if he should write a California pop album or a suicide note, so he took the middle road and gave us Elephant Eyelash instead.

Santiago: The Long Dark Hours b/w Pretty Mess 7″
A Santa Rosa band that I never really took the time to check out until recently. This 7″ was released in two editions: one regular edition, and one limited edition of 50, with unique, handcrafted cover art by young local artists on each cover. The A-side is brilliant, a driving power pop anthem that digs it’s way into your head and stays there. The Crimpshrine cover on side B is good as well, sort of a slow-ballad take on the original. Their 2003 full length ain’t half bad either, with a few tracks that easily rival the catchy pop bliss of this single.

Non-2005 Releases

Joanna Newsom: The Milk-Eyed Mender
I’ve already wrote about this extensively on this site, but really, I think I listened to this album more than anything else in the first half of the year. And that’s pretty amazing considering that my first reaction to hearing her voice was “Oh jesus, I need to delete this folder.” Ultimately, I’m glad I gave this album more of a chance, and I can definitely count myself among the ranks of Joanna Newsom fanboys. Seeing her live at the Gorge this summer only solidified my love for her and her music.

Echo & The Bunnymen: Remasters (Porcupine/Crocodiles/Heaven Up Here/Echo & The Bunnymen)
Not a lot to say about theses really, just that it’s great to have a really classy presentation, cleaned sound, and loads of extra tracks from an all-time great band. Way to go Rhino Records, and thank you.

Battles: B EP and EP C
The best math rock records I heard this year. Now, I don’t really listen to a ton of math rock records, but that’s only because I’m not super in-tune with that scene. And don’t let that fact discourage you anyways. This is inspirational in it’s virtuosity, and like the best math rock, it has more than virtuosity going for it. The musicians come from diverse musical backgrounds, and the cross-pollination of various styles helps Battles carve out a unique sound in a genre that can often fall into creative ruts and soundalike-ism. Out of all the good shows I missed this year, I regret missing their opening slot for Prefuse 73 the most.

Neko Case: Blacklisted
It took a few listens for the production style to sit comfortably with me, before the overdrenching of reverb sounded natural, even somewhat classic. Records that sound like this don’t really get made much anymore, or at least, I don’t hear them. Ms. Case’s vocals are forceful and cut straight through to your heart, and her backing band plays with a restraint that allows her to really take charge of the sessions. A great collection of songs given a lovely, idiosyncratic presentation.

Disappointments and Near Misses:

Sleater-Kinney: The Woods
The word on the street had me super stoked about this album. Dave Fridmann, one of my favorite producers, responsible for great albums by stalwart bands like Mogwai and the Flaming Lips, combined with the dependable veteran rock band for an album that was rumoured to be their fiercest, rawest work to date? Count me in. But from the first listen, something wan’t right. Fridmann’s sonic sensibilities, which usually run towards the lush, detailed, and tastefully bombastic are here replaced by an EVERYTHING TO 11 GODDAMMIT MOTHERFUCKERS WHO CARES IF IT TURNS TO SONIC DOGSHIT AND WE LOSE THE NUANCE AND BEAUTY OF THE SOUND IN THE PROCESS philosophy. Sure, the album is loud, it’s raw, whatever. But it could’ve been loud and raw and NOT distorted to the point that it sounds like harsh digital static. This is one of the only albums I’ve actually sold back to a music store in recent years, and for good reason.

Fiery Furnaces: Rehearsing My Choir
I was lukewarm on Blueberry Boat, an ambitious and varied record whose best moments were all in the first half, but their more recent EP collection made me a convert by condensing their sprawling, sometimes awkward songs into sharp pop of the highest caliber. But anything good about this mess is overshadowed by the omnipresent Grandma Friedberger’s horrific vocal presence. Hopefully, rumors of a “real” Fiery Furnaces follow-up album are not just rumors.

Subcategory: Good, But Really Just More of the Same:
Boards of Canada: The Campfire Headphase
Prefuse 73: Surrounded By Silence
Lightning Bolt: Hypermagic Mountain
All fine, decent albums that suffer from sounding too much like their predecessors. I really don’t see much growth or any new ground being broken by any of these artists. I still like the albums, and I enjoy listening to them, but I can’t shake the knowledge that they could’ve been better, gone farther, tried harder.

Honorable Mentions:

Minus the Bear: Menos El Oso
John Yoko: Papa Was A Rodeo b/w The Morning Paper 7″
Sutekh: Born Again (Collected Remixes)
Autechre: Untilted
Gorillaz: Demon Days
Kid 606: Resilience
Doseone: Ha
Luke Vibert: Lover’s Acid

And yet, at the same time, I don’t write about music much anymore, and I wanted to do something to exercise myself again, so to speak, and reflect a bit on the year in music. So, Here’s an unranked, unordered assortment of albums and EPs that are my favorites, my most-listened to, my most-thought-about, and otherwise most-intriguing or noteworthy musical offerings this year.

2004 Releases:
Wilco: A Ghost Is Born
I was uncertain at first, but this quickly became my most-listened-to, and most-enjoyed album of the year. It was different, restrained and subdued upon first listen, but the more I listened to it, the more nuance I heard in the cracks. Precise and tiring as the chrome hell Tweedy describes, crisp and quiet and numb when it needs to be. Extra props for being one of the most dynamic records I’ve heard in ages. The opening track alone is like a revolutionary declaration against over-mastered rock albums.

The New Trust: We Are Fast-Moving Motherfuckers, We Are Men and Women of Action
I woke up one morning a few months ago with the opening track from this EP stuck in my head. On it’s own, that wouldn’t be unusual, but here’s the thing: I didn’t own any New Trust recordings, and had only seen them live twice, months earlier. That was when I decided I needed this EP. They may not be the world’s most accomplished band, this may not be the best recording ever, they may have some groan-inducingly joke-y lyrics, but they have a knack for writing some of the best pop hooks around. If it was possible to wear out an MP3, I would’ve done that by now.

The Americas: Statuette EP
The Americas played the most jaw-droppingly awesome live shows I saw this year, by a long shot, and this CD-R EP is an excellent document of the band’s style. Switching from echoing guitar patterns to truly thunderous rock at the drop of a hat, and twisting their way through time signature changes that would make Dave Brubeck wince, the Americas are more skilled and unique than any duo deserves to be.

Les Savy Fav: Inches
Technically not an album, but a collection of 7″ singles and B-sides released on disparate record labels over the band’s career, this is nonetheless remarkably cohesive. Intentionally so, according to the liner notes on the reverse, detailing the band’s insane plan to construct this collection of singles with interlocking cover art. Some of Les Savy Fav’s strongest songs are on this disc, as well as a few left-field experiments (such as the dramatic reading of “Reformat”). The atypical reverse chronological sequencing is excellent too, easing the band’s current fans into their older work and front-loading the disc with their best material.

Venetian Snares: Huge Chrome Cylinder Box Unfolding
I’ve never been a huge fan of Aaron Funk’s work, though I’ve always respected how prolific he is. I have to wonder if that’s due to an extreme work ethic towards his music, or just a low level of self-editing. With this album, you certainly can’t fault his methods, whatever they are. HCCBU is my favorite release of his to date, beating out the sinister Find Candace and the monumental single A Giant Alien Force More Violent and Sick Than Anything You Can Imagine, with a highly melodic, densely architectural take on his usual micro-edited style. The cover art and seemingly process-oriented sonic textures bring up inevitable Autechre comparisons, but this is more human and apparently hand-crafted than Autechre’s recent work.

Califone: Heron King Blues
This album combines bits and pieces of familiar and unfamiliar styles in ways that sound simultaneously like nothing you’ve ever heard, and something you’ve known all your life. Califone’s squalling backwoods grooves are like something that always should have existed, and it was just a matter of time for someone to come along and put together the right pieces.

Honorable Mentions:
Iron & Wine: Our Endless Numbered Days
cLOUDEAD: Ten
Fennesz: Venice
the Magnetic Fields: I

Non-2004 Releases:
Previous years’ releases that have dominated my headphones in the past 12 months.

Dilute: Grape Blueprints Pour Spinach Olive Grape
The singer’s nasal voice and unconventional singing style take some getting used to, but everything else about this album is instantly appealing. Assuming you’re into twisted art rock, that is. The production is top notch, very airy and open, artfully and transparently mixed, in service of compositions that range from delicate and crystalline to thick and propulsive.

Hood: Cold House
I’ve had this album for a while, but it didn’t really grab me at first. Winter of this year really gave it time to grow on me, and sent me digging through their surprisingly vast back catalog. These guys have been around for about 2 decades, pushing their sound further and further with each release and bringing and increasing electronic influence to their productions. They deserve to be indie pop elder statesmen like the Flaming Lips or Sonic Youth at this point.

Serge Gainsbourg: L’Histoire de Melody Nelson
What collection would be complete without an album of lecherous French pop? Well, might I recommend this dark, depraved offering by France’s ambassador of sleaze? Oh, and if you want to hear where Beck stole his Sea Change string arrangements from…

Near-misses and Disappointments:

Bjork: Medulla
If anyone can actually pull off an all-vocal album, it’s Bjork. Unfortunately, she didn’t. Technically superb, with plenty of “how’d they do that?” moments and a lovely, spacious sound, but lacking enough really interesting musical ideas to sustain the concept. A boring song is a boring song, whether it’s sung by an Icelandic choir and beatboxers or played on a rack of electronic gear. I felt disappointed with Vespertine at first as well, but slowly grew to love it. But with that album, it was just a matter of discovering the heart buried beneath the icy sheen. With Medulla, the songs are chocolate rabbit hollow.

Squarepusher: Ultravisitor
Despite having what may be my favorite song of the year (“Iambic 9 Poetry”), and several other standouts, this album overall felt too scattered and inconsistent to really earn the status of a great album. The highlights are classic Squarepusher, in both breakbeat-terror and bass-wrangling modes, but there’s too much DSP noise filler on here to really make it’s 70+ minute length easy to swallow. Unlike Wilco’s 70 minute opus that almsot feels too short, there are too many skip-worthy tracks here.

Elliott Smith: From a Basement on the Hill
Posthumous releases are always a gamble, ranging from well-crafted musical eulogies to grave-digging opportunism. Most would agree that this falls far closer to the former. Although this album was almost completed by the time of Smith’s suicide last year, there are still a lot of uncertainties as to how the final version compares with his intended version. There have been accusations that some of Smith’s explicit instructions regarding track order and production choices were disregarded by the “Friends and Family” credited with finishing the album. That aside, the final result is a little uneven, which is somewhat jarring from an artist who’d previously crafted remarkably consistent records, whether on 4-track in a living room, or in huge LA studios. Chalk this one up as the nearest miss of the year, with songs ranging from great to decent, uneven production, and a cloudy and chilling history.

Modest Mouse: Good News For People Who Love Bad News
Modest Mouse almost succeeds here, taking bold leaps away from their ramshackle trailer trash past and into the brave new world of straight up Big Time Rock and Motherfuckin’ Roll. Unlike their previous full length, in which the boys went hog wild with massive amounts of gear and studio time that were previously unaffordable, here we have very straightforward performances with subtle flourishes. The restraint is nice, but the wild kitchen-sink experiments are sorely missed. That this sonic spartanism is coupled with the most pedestrian pop songs of the bands career doesn’t help. Sure, “Float On” is a triumph of pop simplicity, but it’s an unfortunately lonely high point. And here’s more good news…the three worst songs on the album are right in the middle, back to back. It’s a cliche at this point to call the big major label pop-chart breakthrough for an independent band the beginning of their slide into mediocrity, but if the shoe fits…

Telefon Tel Aviv: A Map of What is Effortless
I loved Fahrenheit Fair Enough for a lot of reasons. It had a warmth of sound and songwriting that’s sorely lacking from a lot of electronic music, and a pretty fresh and original sound. This album feels like a rehash of some of the same tones, with unnecessary vocals dropped on top ( the most egregious offender being the atrocious club anthem “My Week Beats Your Year”). It also sounds like every drum track on the album was built from the same Reaktor randomizing patch. Way to phone it in, guys.