Making A List, Checking It Thrice

by Bob Boilen

I never thought of my Top 10 list as an obsession, but I need to rethink that.

For the last bunch of weeks, I've been taking the music I liked this year and blindly listening and rating each song as they randomly play. Then I've been going into a playlist I created in iTunes and pruning, little by little, albums with songs rated with two stars. I figure that any record that has a two-star song can't be a "best of the year." Albums are falling fast, with contenders like Beck, Of Montreal and TV on the Radio falling off my Top 10, while surprises by MGMT, Max Richter and Blitzen Trapper are holding strong.

How do you make your Top 10?

My deskmate and NPR Music producer Lars Gotrich printed his Top 30 and then cut each album title, artist name and record label into strips of paper and laid them on his desk. Every so often, he rearranges their order.

Robin Hilton, who produces All Songs Considered, is a bit more methodical. He's listening to every album on our list of 100 nominees and slowly working his way through each CD, start to finish. If he finds himself wanting to go back to an album, he sets it aside as a finalist.

Do you post your list anywhere? If so, put the link in a comment and share it with the rest of us. And DON'T FORGET TO VOTE for your favorite music of 2008.

We'll post the results here and on the All Songs Considered site. We've extended the voting until the 14th. on Dec. 15 around noon east coast time we will announce the results here on the blog.

Wolf Parade is playing; I gotta go rate it.

I am now officially obsessed.

8:13 AM ET | 11-26-2008 | permalink

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Vinyl: The New CD?

by Robin Hilton

I recently did something I haven't done in more than 20 years: I put on a record -- an actual vinyl LP -- and just listened to it. The album was Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever Ago. I had mail-ordered the record, and when I found it waiting for me on my front porch one evening after work, I decided to make it the night's entertainment.

With no television and no other distractions, I just sat there and listened. But while I listened, I held the dust jacket and used the time to really consider and appreciate the artwork. I studied the lyrics and read all the liner notes. What a novelty.

A while back on the blog, I mentioned that I had gotten rid of all my CDs because I thought the compact disc was a dying format. It's so much easier to access everything from a hard drive. When I asked listeners what they thought would be the music format to replace CDs, a handful of people said "vinyl." I thought it was funny, but I've come to realize that they may be right.

I've read a number of reports that sales of vinyl LPs and turntables are way up. Retailers speculate the obvious: Vinyl turns music into a tangible work of art, allowing a deeper connection between listener and artist. And many vinyl LPs now come with a code to download a free MP3 version of the album, giving listeners both the convenience of digital audio and the beauty of art you can hold in your hand.

Vinyl could save not only music as high art, but also the music industry itself. Labels and music retailers, reeling from years of plummeting sales, have been trying to lure buyers into purchasing physical CDs instead of downloads. Some have included videos or bonus tracks with the discs. But vinyl is a perfect excuse for returning to an actual, physical record store, where you can lay down some money and walk out with something real. I'd love to see local record stores come back.

Some bands see the potential, too. This fall, Of Montreal released multiple versions of its latest album on vinyl (with the free download code). The different versions include extra treats like wall art, buttons, a T-shirt and a paper lantern. The artwork on both the cover and album folds is simply stunning. It would seem almost criminal to shrink it down to the size of a CD booklet or to turn it into a tiny icon for a computer.

Of Montreal's irresistible vinyl release finally convinced me to start collecting physical LPs. I dusted off my turntable and started hunting down some of my favorite recordings on vinyl. So far, I've acquired a total of... eight records.

I asked around the office. All of the NPR Music producers copped to owning hundreds of LPs, but only one of them (Lars Gotrich) still actively buys vinyl.

What does your vinyl collection look like? E-mail us a photo of it; we'll post some of them here on the site.

12:32 PM ET | 11-21-2008 | permalink

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Fan = Fanatic

by Bob Boilen

The other night, I went to hear Brian Wilson perform his new work, That Lucky Old Sun, at the Warner Theatre in Washington, D.C. We hope to webcast a recording of part of that show soon.

I was in my seat for no more than five minutes when a Brian Wilson fan spotted my "all access" stage pass. A man named John held in his hands a book on surfing -- one he obviously treasured, wrapped in protective plastic. He showed it to me the way a proud parent would show baby pictures; the book was filled with autographs from famous surf-rock stars, including guitar king Dick Dale.

On a page filled with autographs, I saw a blank white area, and that's when John said something like, "I need to have Brian sign his autograph right here. I have a pen, and if you could just please go backstage and have him write 'To John' and then sign his name, it would mean so much to me."

I hesitated. I have a lot of respect for performers and their need for personal space, but I also remembered so many years ago, standing in the lobby of a Holiday Inn to get Ray Davies to sign my album.

After much gentle but passionate and persistent cajoling, I said sure. I took his book, walked backstage, saw Brian Wilson and asked him to sign it, "To John, from Brian Wilson."

Less than two minutes later, I walked back to John, gave him a big thumbs-up and handed him his book. It was such a sweet moment, because it clearly meant so much to him.

As I stood around during intermission, I heard snippets of random conversations that went something like, "They love Brian so much, they named their son after him." Earlier in the evening, I saw someone with a surfboard trying to get a picture with Wilson.

Brian Wilson is a man with a hard past: an abusive father, bouts of deep depression and voices in his head. He's the sole survivor of a family of brothers (Carl and Dennis) who made up the core of The Beach Boys.

But what Brian Wilson can hold on to are his songs: They are, in a way, his children. And those children are very much alive and well because of an incredible bunch of dedicated fans and a marvelous band of musicians. They all derive so much strength and joy from Wilson's songs -- music as simple and innocent as "Surfer Girl" and as complicated and emotionally wrought as "I Just Wasn't Made for These Times."

It's easy to laugh off fandom of any kind. But having seen it up close, it's a powerful glue that bonds people together. It's powerful enough to make a dream or two come true.

7:48 AM ET | 11-19-2008 | permalink

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The Year's Best CDs

The voting for the years best music has ended.
We are about to post the results

The comments below make for some good reading about music in 2008, things that are on our poll or missing.
thank you

11:52 AM ET | 11-18-2008 | permalink

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The Future Of Album Art

by Bob Boilen

When was the last time you sat down and listened to your favorite record, held the artwork in your hands and did nothing else? For me, it's been ages. I find it so easy to have my attention pulled away by the Web, by email or even a magazine. The music may hold my interest, but the artwork rarely does.

I've come to the conclusion that it's the fault of the art and not my short attention span. I've never liked the CD format when it comes to artwork and liner notes. Sure, there are box sets that are knockouts, but the average CD booklet is hard to read and just plain too tiny.

Now comes the future of album covers: digital art.

For years, we've seen CDs with bonus videos and even electronic books. But nothing has knocked me out until recently, when I saw Snow Patrol's new interactive Booklet (a clunky but descriptive name) for its latest release, A Hundred Million Suns.

I downloaded the art for free as an application from the iPhone app store. I haven't even heard the music yet, though I could imagine listening on my iPod Touch, while opening a series of digital origami, complete with lyrics and liner notes.

The first screen shows a universe of origami shapes, like stars. Touch one of the shapes and it comes forward.

Pinch the origami to open or close it.

When some of the paper shapes open, you'll find lyrics or other notes.

There are also videos and Web links, but the key to my loving this has less to do with the execution and more to do with the form. I love the idea of sitting with my iPod and playing with the artwork while listening to music. Any artist or designer, frustrated by the CD format, will just delight in making art that moves, morphs and informs.

If you think of artwork the way a designer thinks of a video game, all of a sudden the paradigm shifts from bands getting their music on Guitar Hero to fans taking unforgettable journeys into a band's artistic vision, which includes its music, its words and its musings.

You think MTV was a marriage of music and art? Just wait.

1:39 PM ET | 11-17-2008 | permalink

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