This was going to be a part of my not-quite-so-annual-anymore “Best Music I Heard This Year” series, but it got so large and gangly that it broke itself out of the 2008/2007 post and landed here…

If there is one thing that this blog has taught me (aside from imposing some editorial control on my self) is how and what makes good criticism. It’s all well and fine to say to my self, in my own head “this is good” or “this is not good” without much back-and-forth because I, being my own audience, understand me pretty well.  Not so on the blog side, though – as my audience (you, dear reader) will require a further explanation.

So, suffice it to say that I’ve done a fair amount of cypherin’ and ruminating on the subject – so here are some thoughts on how I listen to, criticize and then report on music. Read on after the jump…

Let’s talk about “Top 10″ lists real quick-like

10. Everything below is generally negative on the idea of a Top 10 list, but I actually do read Top XX lists and look forward to them per annum. Jackson Cooper’s recommendations are always welcomed, and I enjoy Pitchfork‘s annuals lists. This is a criticism of the medium and not necessarily the people who use them. (Lazy bastards!) (kidding)

9. They are too easy.

8. Like assholes and opinions, everyone has one. (Note: This one is mine and it is like others but without numbers and a clear winner, but this one is mine)

7. The last thing the blogosphere needs is another blog post with Top XX Anything. The second-to-last thing the blogosphere needs is the word BLOGOSPHERE. Both things have been ground into a fine dust and need to be discarded.

6. My brain does not and can not sort art. Like is Sticky Fingers better than Revolver? If you threw them off a diving board, what would you score them? I don’t know and any argument of that sort is simply an exercise that normally ends in fisticuffs. (Sticky Fingers is better, by the way).

5. I don’t work at this, so I can’t say that I’ve listened to every album from last year, so to say something like “Beyonce is the worst pop star of all time” would likely be indefensible. And more to the point – to say that I have found the “Top 10 Records of the Year” indicates that I have also listened to ((NumberOfAlbumsReleaseThisYear)-10), which is impossible. Normally Top 10 lists are “The Top 10 Things Out of A Top 1000 That My Audience Is Familiar With”.

4. While they appear to be impersonal rankings, they really aren’t. All criticism is personal. Don’t let a number do the dirtywork of explaining why you like something.

3. Why 10? Some years I can’t fathom putting 10 albums in a list. Some years I have 12. In any case, it’s arbitrary and easy, like Velveeta. Sometimes you just need to eat Velveeta, but only to comfort yourself.

2. To force me to write glowingly about 10 albums when I may not have 10 albums to talk about would be an exercise (see #5), under an arbitrary stricture (see #3), and that’s too much like a middle-school test. You may notice that in this very list I’ve padded it with some very similar points just to get to 10. Ta-da!

1. I hate them, and they are stupid.

On Listening to Music

Let me quote you a little White Men Can’t Jump, as it frequently pops into my head when I’m really, really listening to music. The scene is such that Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson are riding down the street in a convertible:

Wesley Snipes: Hey…what is this?

Woody Harrelson: Jimi Hendrix.

S: I know. Why are you playing Jimi?

H: Because I like to listen to him.

S: That’s the problem. Y’all listen.

H: What am I supposed to do. Eat it?

S: No. You’re supposed to hear it.

H: I said I like to listen to him.

S: There’s a difference between hearing and listening. White people can’t hear Jimi. You listen.

If I talk about an album here, it’s because I’ve both listened to it and heard it. Or, at least I think I’ve heard it in the WMCJ definition. If I don’t like an album, it’s because I’ve listened to it and failed to hear it.

An album is more than a disc, a sleeve and some notes.

With very few exceptions (see Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” from my upcoming 2008 post), I am an album guy. Always have been, might always be. There are some very good singles out there, but that’s not for me. I don’t download single tracks from iTunes as I assume that I’m not hearing what the artist has really intentioned. Why would an artist put out an entire album for you just to listen to a single track? Yes, yes, I know – “But Ben, you work on the Internet and are mostly a proponent of innovation in information and it’s presentation”. Yes, but in this case I think the freedom of the format has a negative effect on the art – much like David Lynch’s take on watching films on the iPhone.

Singles are like good quotes to me – but they are definitely a few words shy of great statements. The same is said of my love of great albums that make great musical statements. My rapturous love affair with The Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible or Neil Young’s Harvest or Nirvana’s In Utero are great examples. They all evoke something that stirs me greatly – or tell a great story. Listening to those albums bring me back to a place or time in my life that will forever be linked with those albums.

The When, Where and How of My Listening

Technically speaking, I do a lot of listening at my desk, in my car or on the rare occasion at home with the TV off and I am engrossed in something – painting a room or baking or hobby stuff.

I used to listen to a lot of music at my desk with a pair of fantastic earphones – the Sony MDR-V6′s – as I was in an open environment and didn’t want to hack off my neighbors. Those earphones were a total revelation – it was like listening to music anew. Have you ever heard Led Zeppelin’s Dazed and Confused in headphones? It will BLOW YOUR MIND. I had listened to Skip James, but I never heard him tap his foot on the ground or the creak of his chair before. Highly recommended. However, since then I’ve moved into my own office and use my desk speakers more often that not, and frankly, it’s not as great. But, on the upside I can hear people coming.

I am always listening to something in the car – normally NPR, but on longer drives Kelly and I listen to a lot of music. Long drives are always a great place to sink into an album.  I will always remember Sam Cooke’s voice while we drove through the Blue Ridge Mountains on our way to attend a funeral for my great-Uncle Jack. I will always remember Danger Mouse’s The Grey Album as I blasted it heading home from Frankfort after a great day of slope flying.

So much of my liking of a piece of music or an entire album is beyond the music (as opposed to Behind The Music?). Where did I listen to it? What time of year is it? Is it in a film that I love? Did I listen to it during a particularly eventful time in my life? Or is it just really, really good?

I’ll always equate Interpol’s debut Turn On The Bright Lights with winter. I listened to it a lot while staring out the window of my second-story office during the winter of 2003 as snow fell and my time at that company was uncertain. I travelled to Cincinatti on a cold, cold night almost six years ago to see them at the Southgate House in Cinci with a couple of friends. Now, driving to Cinci or when the snow falls outside the window of my office, I put it on.

The Who’s Quick One While He’s Away was used in Wes Anderson’s classic film Rushmore in a scene that was and remains so deftly funny and striking that I will always equate one with the other. My friends and I have sung along to that song (DANG! DANG! DANG! DANG! You are FORGIVEN!) so many times that it is a part of our friendship.

Why I Write About It

Writing about music requires a deep, personal understanding of why I like a piece of music (or for that matter, food). I’ve got to be able to explain to someone else specifically what I like about an album. The result is that I remember albums much better than I normally would and it’s fun (for me) and I like engaging others in those discussions. But, on the flipside, it’s a fair amount of work – hence my woefully inconsistent “yearly” reviews.

Ultimately, yeah, I think it’s worth it.