Sam Gronning: In Memoriam

For the past ten years that I have known Sam Gronning, he has always wanted three things: 1.) To fuck Heather Locklear, 2.) To live forever, and 3.) If he had to die, he would die while fucking Heather Locklear.

Needless to say, to my knowledge, Sam never did get to fuck Heather Locklear, even in his death, which occurred this morning, at the age of 67.

Sam Gronning was a locksmith by trade, but he was also an avid skydiver, a published author, a former gravedigger, a French food connoisseur, and the narrator of the independent film Stagbunny. He was a staunch Republican, a fiercely funny storyteller, a harshly honest judge of character, and one of the best friends and most trusted mentors I have ever known.

The Sam you see in this picture is the Sam that I have known for the last decade, the entirety of my adult life. Always armed with his vest, packed with his unfiltered menthol cigarettes, his cell phone (which constantly vibrated with new jobs), and a pocket-sized copy of the U.S. Constitution, Sam could be found drinking coffee at a table at Dori Lou's or The Flying J, and ready for hours of conversation about life, love, movies, politics... whatever his table-mates, who were often my friends and I, wanted to discuss.

Politics and world events were frequent topics of Sam's debate and conversation. I was sitting at coffee at the French bakery with Sam on September 9, 2001, when Sam predicted the terrorist attack that would occur two days later. I was sitting in his living room the day that President Bush landed on that aircraft carrier; I remember saying "That bastard's going use that footage to get re-elected, isn't he?" to which Sam replied "I certainly fucking hope he does!" Sam was a staunch conservative, and his television was tuned to FOX News twenty-four hours a day. We never saw eye-to eye on anything remotely political, but somehow I still found myself sitting on his couch, sometimes for hours at a time, watching The O'Reilly Factor and bumming smokes, debating the issues, listening to endless stories, and learning. Sam is responsible for much of my education as a human being.

If there's anyone that I could call an adopted father figure, it's Sam. He once loaned me 50 bucks so I could pay a speeding ticket on time. He was critical of almost everyone, sometimes to hurt feelings. He once called me out for "smoking too much dope," and he was right. When Gina Giles broke my heart at age 19, it was Sam that I called, bawling like a girl. "Come on over, bud, we'll talk it out," he said. He called everyone "bud," especially when he didn't know someone's name.

I loved going on jobs with Sam and watching him open cars and collect checks. Sam taught me how to get into locked cars, but every time I lock my keys in, I can't get it quite right without his golden touch. I was there when Sam first saw Transformers, and famously claimed that "Shia LaBeouf is the new Heather Locklear," to riotous laughter and ribbing. I once asked Sam to play me one of his favorite songs, then watched in amazement as he cued up Cyndi Lauper's "She Bop," dancing along in his chair and singing along to every word. Sam promised me that he would take me skydiving, and I regret never finding the time for it. Sam is the very definition of living life to its fullest, living every day exactly how you want to, and never looking back.

I lost touch with Sam over the last few years when I moved to Laramie, but I was lucky enough to get to meet him for coffee this last April. He had lost a lot of weight, and his instantly-recognizable voice had faded, but he retained the wry, wise spirit that I knew and loved. I'll never forget the last piece of advice that he gave me, in a conversation about the theory of the quarter-life crisis: "That thing that all guys go through at around 25," he said, "It's not a crisis, it's an epiphany." Goddamn, Sam. Bing-fucking-go.

Sam Gronning was one of the smartest, wittiest, wiliest, and most genuine men that ever walked the face of the earth. For many years, he was like family to me, and I will miss him more than can be expressed in these words, and I know I am not alone. There are hundreds of like-minded 20- and 30-somethings out there who have spent many an hour receiving an education from Sam Gronning, and there are thousands of stories out there like the ones I've been thinking about all day. Sam may not have died in the arms of Heather Locklear, but I'll be damned if he didn't achieve immortality, in the hearts and memories of the countless young people that sat and drank coffee with him. In that sense, Sam will indeed live forever.

There will always be an empty seat at the table for you, Sam. We love you, and we'll miss you.

Rest in peace, bud.

Dog

Living with a dog again
made me think a lot about

packs,

and what it means to sleep in a pile
just because you need to feel
touch.

My sister had dishes in the cupboard
that were handed down from my
mother
and when I ran my finger around the edge of a bowl
in the soapy dishwater, I was a
child
again.

And when she left,
at long last,
the pack
was broken for the last time.

And that is what terrifies me the most.
The solitude
of dogs

without their packs,
howling at the dusty, empty moon.

"my compass spins, the wilderness remains."

Smell that summer
breathe it in
sharp, like a needle
diving through thread

smell that Summer
perched on the edge

on the walk to my car
three a.m. and the
stars are out

I'm taking a shortcut
through the park

a rabbit gets caught
in the spotlight
of a motion detector
and I'm in his light

our shadows
look quietly
at each other.

he bounds beside me
his path
clear ahead of him
in the grass.

He's going North.
Find that star, kid.

The True North.

asleep
in a field of bedsheets
her Sister, Sapphire
in the next room

the rabbit bounds
into a field of green
grass
i dodge in
following,

Cut a new path
in the park
cut it North,

True North
in the grass

Darlin'

And every rain-
drop
was named "Darlin'."

But not
every rain-
drop
hits the earth
to the beat
of my song

like
the storm
that's fallin' now.

sonnet for O.

o how shall i lament each passing day?
each arc of every journey of the sun?
but with these thoughts of age and of decay
and wasted breaths of air -- what we become
is callous and unholy -- but the thoughts
that fill the space behind this troubled mind
are filled with -- O! -- a face i ne’er forgot
and can’t forget, nor will, nor would I try.
And so -- lamenting each and every day
becomes an hourglass -- each grain of sand
another tum’bling second toward the way
it feels to kiss your mouth -- to feel your hand.
We can’t forget -- it’s not the sun doth move
But us -- the earth -- and them -- then me + you.

"Why do we read literature?"

So here’s
where we stand
at this point
in the story --

Protagonist makes bold claims,
draws resentment from Zeus.
Scene is interrupted by the squealing of tires
(on wet asphalt).

William Shakespeare enters.
Delivers love sonnet written
years ago, smiles,
Exits, pursued by bear.

The Chorus sings of broken embraces,
wrath of the
(lower-cased) gods.
Hubris. Umbrage. Defiance.

Tragic Soliloquy.
Catharsis brings under-
standing. Redemption,
transformation. Humility.

The Heroine
is reborn -- from watery grave.
Protagonist stands
unharmed in the

Mist, his hands
red with the blood
of forty thousand brothers.
[V.i.254–256]

2009: The Year in Music

2009: The Year in Music


Those of you that have known me for over a year know that I'm a serious amateur music geek, and my eventual goal is to work as a professional music critic. I try to hone my skills in criticism by cataloging and keeping vigorous notes on every piece of music I hear in a calendar year, and summarizing my discoveries with a year-end best-and-worst list. In 2009, I collected 104 albums, starting with Reel Big Fish's Fame, Fortune, and Fornication (released on January 20) and ending with Eminem's Relapse: Refill (released December 21). Here, I have compiled what I think is a pretty decent list of the highlights and lowlights (in my humble opinion). Here, you'll find picks as diverse as Tom Waits, Lady Gaga, Dirty Projectors, and Jay-Z. My hope is that you find something here that sounds interesting to you, and might try something new and interesting. These choices are obviously my opinion alone; let me know what your favorite (and least-favorite) songs, artists, and albums of 2009 were.

The 25 Best Albums

ALBUM OF THE YEAR
1. Hospice - The Antlers [FRENCHKISS]
The best record of 2009 is a concept album about an unnamed protagonist working in the Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, falling in love with a belligerently cruel terminal bone cancer patient named Sylvia, and watching her slow, painful descent into madness and death -- no, it's not exactly a party-starter. If you can get past the gloomy plot, though, and completely submerge yourself into Peter Silberman's epic journey of memory, grief, regret, and passion, you'll find a gloriously sad but ultimately uplifting journey into the darkest and most beautiful parts of the human condition. The songs build slowly and deliberately, layering a dense orchestration of guitars, keys, harps, trumpets, and finally, Silberman's beautifully delicate, echoey voice, crafting a hypnotic atmosphere that's more unique than anything in music since Arcade Fire broke. After several listens, you'll find yourself choking back tears while singing along to The Antlers' gorgeous, transportive melodies. Hospice is the painful but familiar sound of innocence lost, simultaneously as important as any coming-of-age-memoir you'll ever read and as innovative any indie-rock breakthrough you'll ever hear.
Video: "Two (or, I Would Have Saved Her If I Could)"


2. It's Blitz! - Yeah Yeah Yeahs [INTERSCOPE]
As the decade winds to a close, I nominate Yeah Yeah Yeahs as one of the most important artists of the '00s, if simply for the way they have continually evolved their unique sound. Building from the brilliant garage-punk of 2003's Fever to Tell and the radio-ready rock of 2006's Show Your Bones, YYYs once again chose to re-write the alternative music landscape in 2009 by adding drum machines, a touring keyboardist, and making the best art-dance album in recent memory. Underneath the glitter and glam, though, it's easy to make out Nick Zinner's brilliant snake-like guitar riffs, Brian Chase's rock-steady cadences, and Karen O's trademark sex-kitten growl. It's Blitz! is a carnival of sonic surprises, from synthy New Wave ("Soft Shock") to relentless post-punk ("Dull Life") to the album's centerpieces, the haunting ballads "Skeletons" and "Runaway," both of which come close to reaching the emotional heights of the band's tender '03 masterpiece "Maps."
Video: "Heads Will Roll"



3. The '59 Sound - The Gaslight Anthem [SIDEONEDUMMY]
New Jersey's The Gaslight Anthem sound like the perfect middle-ground between Bad Religion and Bruce Springsteen, but a close look at the lyrics sheet for The '59 Sound reveals a deep understanding of the mythology of pop music, an understanding that brilliantly informs the band's sophomore effort. Brian Fallon's songs are full of scenester kids who light cigarettes on parking meters like Dylan, twist the night away like Sam Cooke, and pray to the ghost of Miles Davis to bless them with his "cool." These lyrical tributes strike just the right chord with Fallon's Elvis-meets-Joey Ramone croon and the band's Americana-punk aesthetic. The '59 Sound is the young person's album of 2009, universally nostalgic with an ironic wink, a perfect soundtrack for those long summer nights of an everlasting youth.
Video: "Old White Lincoln"


4. Troubadour - K'naan [A&M/OCTONE]
K'naan isn't a millionaire, he's not a gangsta, and he openly rejects receiving production from industry staples like Kanye -- yet the 31-year-old Somali-Canadian's second album is far and away the best hip-hop album of the year. K'naan has a quiet, unassuming flow that references hardships 50 Cent can only imagine, like growing up in the midst of the Somali Civil War and living in a land where "pirates terrorize the ocean." What K'naan lacks in verbal dexterity he makes up for with a sleek pop-soul sensibility and a cautiously optimistic social consciousness on tracks like "Take a Minute" and "Wavin' Flag." Troubadour is filled with guest appearances that range from predictable (Damien Marley and Adam Levine) to inspired (Metallica's Kirk Hammett shreds and sings in "If Rap Gets Jealous"), but K'naan's most gifted accomplices are producers Track and Field (Gerald Eaton and Brian West), who give the MC a diverse sonic landscape upon which to play.
Audio: "Take a Minute"


5. Now We Can See - The Thermals [KILL ROCK STARS]
Concept albums about death don't have to be as depressing as Hospice; just ask Portland's Hutch Harris and Kathy Foster, aka The Thermals. In "When I Died," Now We Can See's opening track, an unnamed narrator sings that "the earth was too hot, the air was too thin," and so decides he'll remedy it by crawling into the ocean and turning into a fish. His plans go awry, however, and he... well, he drowns. The remaining 10 songs examine the idiosyncrasies of life from the suddenly-clear perspective of the recently deceased, or, as Harris puts it, "songs from when we were alive." The Thermals touch on mostly intangible themes like fear ("I Let it Go"), desire ("I Called Out Your Name"), and over-consumption ("Liquid In, Liquid Out"); the end result is like the catchiest Zen-Buddhist meditation ever, full of post-punk power chords, singalong choruses, and existential wisdom.
Video: "Now We Can See"


6. Sainthood - Tegan and Sara [SIRE]
The magnificent Quin twins continued their domination of indie-pop, taking on the difficult challenge of following their 2007 masterpiece The Con by embracing the lush electronic production that steeped that album in darkness. The themes of Sainthood appear to be, appropriately, secular devotion and adoration, two things Tegan and Sara have practically written the book on in the last few years, and the overall mood of this album is notably lighter than their last. The girls still wear their hearts on their sleeves; "I sing to find my other," Sara says in the stunning "Don't Rush," which, along with the excellent "Hell" and "The Cure," marks the duo's first foray into co-writing. Sainthood contains hints of the great pop-rock songstresses that have come before them (Saints Cyndi, Madge, and Sinead are all over the place), but with their third straight artistic triumph, Tegan and Sara have successfully carved a permanent spot for themselves in that very canon.
Audio: "The Cure"


7. By the Throat - Eyedea & Abilities [RHYMESAYERS]
The misguided "emo rap" label is a terrifying thing; the tag has been applied both to artists brilliant (Atmosphere, Aesop Rock) and boorish (3OH!3), as well as to E&A. MC Eyedea (Michael Larsen) and DJ Abilities (Gregory Keltgen) hit the ground running with their third LP; a dark half-hour of indie hip-hop manifestos that tackle a wide range of issues, from taking a loved one off life support ("Hay Fever") to gun control ("Time Flies When You Have a Gun"), and sex as a drug ("Burn Fetish"). Eyedea's cracked rapid-fire flow sounds like Atmosphere's Slug after chain-smoking an entire pack of cloves, and Abilities' delayed-climax beats surge with swirling surf-rock guitars, fuzzy distorted bass, and stuttering hi-hats. By the Throat grabs you with its casual punchlines and clever, catchy hooks, but it's the dark social commentary and self-confessional storytelling that will twist its way into the back of your brain and refuse to leave.
Audio: "Burn Fetish"


8. Mama, I'm Swollen - Cursive [SADDLE CREEK]
While many of his Saddle Creek contemporaries have become focused on the alt-country jam-band circuit (Conor Oberst) or have found major-label stardom (Rilo Kiley), Cursive's genius frontman Tim Kasher keeps his feet firmly planted in the Omaha indie scene, and keeps his music teeming with the despair and discontent that defined his extraordinary 2003 breakthrough The Ugly Organ. "I'm at my best when I'm at my worst" Kasher explains over a quiet crescendo of noise-rock in "From the Hips" before blasting a clumsy, full-throated shout. The band still sorely misses cellist Gretta Cohn, whose work on Organ would be a perfect fit for Mama, I'm Swollen's dense minor-key orchestrations, which range from jangly, breakneck rockers like "In the Now" to creepy slow-burners like "We're Going to Hell." Kasher is still the king of lyrical introspection; the album-closer "What Have I Done?" might be his best song ever -- "I spent the best years of my life / waiting on the best years of my life / So what's there to write about? / What have I done?" Here's hoping that for Tim Kasher, that internal artistic struggle never ends.
Audio: "In the Now"


9. Daisy - Brand New [INTERSCOPE/DGC/PROCRASTINATE! MUSIC TRAITORS]
Brand New may be the lone survivor of the 2002-2003 "screamo" boom, as witnessed by the tiresome 2009 releases by their once-contemporaries Thursday and Taking Back Sunday (the subpar Common Existence and the awful New Again, respectively), and they've done it by being unafraid to evolve their sound with each album. What was once bratty pop-punk on 2001's Your Favorite Weapon eventually developed into the challenging, oblique complexity of 2006's The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me, and now spirals into a fascinating new direction for Daisy. Tortured-genius frontman Jesse Lacey shares songwriting duties with lead guitarist Vin Accadri this time around, leading to even further genre experimentation; the band's sound here ranges from Accardi's straight-up thrash-punk ("Vices") to Lacey's acidic slow-burn balladry ("Bed," "You Stole") to the weirdly brilliant Modest Mouse-on-uppers single "At the Bottom." Daisy's best moments are also its riskiest, though, as in the haunting gospel-hymn sound experimentation of the title track, below.
Audio: "Daisy"


10. The Blueprint 3 - Jay-Z [ROC NATION/ATLANTIC]
Shawn Carter has released a new album every year since 1996, with two notable exceptions; his three-year "retirement" following 2003's The Black Album, and last year, which Hov spent perfecting the third part of his Blueprint trilogy, leaking tantalizing non-album tracks like "Jockin' Jay-Z" along the way. The Blueprint 3 was well worth the wait, boasting the very best beats from hip-hop's very best producers (Timbaland, No I.D., Swizz Beatz), a cavalcade of A-list guest stars (Rihanna, Alicia Keys, Young Jeezy) and the most consistent, focused, and thoughtful flow Jay has spit in a half-decade. Jay-Z is one of the few rappers alive who can successfully stay on subject to develop a concept over the course of an entire song, such as in the playful "Venus vs. Mars" or the uplifting, Alphaville-sampling "Young Forever," and it's that ability that justifies him swiping the title "Best Rapper Alive" back from Lil Wayne. I'd be remiss not to mention Kanye West, the mastermind producer behind the original Blueprint, who co-wrote and produced roughly half the tracks here. The Blueprint 3 is an equal triumph for West, who, despite an uneven couple of years, re-establishes himself as the greatest hip-hop producer of the decade.
Audio: "Young Forever"


The Rest:
11. 21st Century Breakdown - Green Day
12. No Ceilings (Mixtape) - Lil Wayne
13. No One's First, and You're Next (EP) - Modest Mouse
14. Horehound - The Dead Weather
15. It's Not Me, It's You - Lily Allen
16. Say Anything - Say Anything
17. Where the Wild Things Are: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Karen O and The Kids
18. Coaster - NOFX
19. Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire - Eels
20. Wilco (The Album) - Wilco
21. (tie) Outer South - Conor Oberst and The Mystic Valley Band / Monsters of Folk - Monsters of Folk
22. No Line on the Horizon - U2
23. Songs About Time - The Rentals
24. Them Crooked Vultures - Them Crooked Vultures
25. Sleigh Bells (EP) - Sleigh Bells



The 25 Best Singles

SONG OF THE YEAR
1. "Kids" - MGMT (from the album Oracular Spectacular)
Released as Oracular Spectacular's third single in the final months of 2008, "Kids" actually dates back all the way to 2004, when it first appeared on MGMT's We (Don't) Care EP, but the track didn't reach a high-water mark until cracking the Billboard Modern Rock Top 10, getting a brilliantly disturbing music video (see below), and finally receiving a Grammy nomination for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group With Vocals in 2009. One of the reasons for this slow-building success may be that irresistibly-catchy 10-note synth riff, or perhaps the enigmatic lyrics, full of bizarre imagery and sad-but-hopeful longing. "Kids" has it all, the sexy shimmy of New Order, the nostalgic introspection of Arcade Fire, and the oddball sensibilities of The Flaming Lips. It's two weird little boys, throwing the '80s dance party at the end of the world; you're invited, but please, control yourself. Take only what you need from it.
Video: "Kids"


2. "Great Expectations" - The Gaslight Anthem (from the album The '59 Sound)
As previously mentioned, The Gaslight Anthem takes musical and lyrical cues from a wide range of sources; in this, the third single from The '59 Sound, they borrow equally from Bob Seger's "Night Moves" and Charles Dickens' classic novel evoked in the title. The sound, though, is straight-up Alkaline Trio with a dash of The Boss. "Great Expectations" achieves a rare feat: it's a legitimately emotional punk-rock song that avoids resorting to the tired traps of "emo."
Video: "Great Expectations"


3. (tie) "Brooklyn Go Hard" / "D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)" / "Run This Town" / Empire State of Mind" - Jay-Z featuring Santigold, Rihanna, Kanye West, & Alicia Keys (from the albums Notorious: Music Inspired by the Motion Picture and The Blueprint 3)
No one in 2009 had a better Top-40 track record than Jay-Z, starting way back in late-'08 with the Santigold-sampling "Brooklyn," and continuing with three extraordinary hits from his smash Blueprint 3. At age 39, Hov is teaching a hip-hop master class on how to age gracefully, whether by denouncing industry gimmicks, honing his expert braggadocio, or reciting a love letter to his dear NYC. Rihanna and Alicia Keys bring the killer hooks, No I.D. and Al Shux supply the massive beats, and Kanye steals the spotlight in "Run This Town," providing the best production of the year, as well as one of the most striking guest-verses in recent memory. "D.O.A." and "Run This Town" sound so fresh that Lil Wayne hijacked the beats for his fantastic No Ceilings mixtape, proving once and for all that the rap game belongs to Jay-Z, everyone else just plays in it.
Video: "Run This Town"


4. "Uprising" - Muse (from the album The Resistance)
Muse finally found a way to truly distinguish their sound from Bends-era Radiohead, by incorporating Brian May guitar flourishes, a massive Garry Glitter drum cadence, and just the right amount of David Bowie to make their revolution sound sexy, dangerous, and essential. The lyrics are cleverly vague, utilizing a generic "us vs. them" theme that makes "Uprising" the perfect soundtrack for whichever raging against whatever machine you preferred in 2009.
Video: "Uprising"


5. "Paparazzi" - Lady Gaga (from the album The Fame)
I'll admit that it took me the better part of 2009 to really "get" Lady Gaga, and this, the darkly subversive fifth (!) single from The Fame, was the track that did it. "Paparazzi" is the best song written about celebrity since Eminem's "Stan," and its chilling effect is only enhanced by the fantastic Jonas Akerlund-directed video (below), as well as Gaga's brilliant, blood-drenched performance at the MTV Video Music Awards. Beneath the club-ready beats and the catchy pop hook, there's an air of genuine self-reflective tragedy; witness the subtle effect of Gaga's stuttered "papa-paparazzi" in the chorus, slyly linking Freudian psychology with gossip-mag culture. The overall effect confirms Lady Gaga as the smartest, most daring pop star of her generation.
Video: "Paparazzi"


6. "All for the Best" - Thom Yorke (from the album Ciao My Morning Star: The Songs of Mark Mulcahy)
No "best-of" list is complete without a little Radiohead, and in 2009, a little Radiohead was all we got, as the band experimented with its new-found freedom from major-label distribution methods. Instead of a new album, Thom Yorke & Co. released a slew of online and compilation singles, ranging from Radiohead's gorgeous ballad "Harry Patch (In Memory Of)" to Yorke's head-scratching New Moon contribution "Hearing Damage." The best of the bunch is Yorke's moving Miracle Legion cover, released on the Mark Mulcahy tribute/benefit comp Ciao My Morning Star. Originally, the song was a great pop-rock jam, but Yorke takes it to dizzying new heights, juxtaposing heart-monitor drum programming with sharp live rim-shots, and ambient synth waves with clanging distorted guitar, creating one of the most interesting rhythmic and sonic experiments of the year.
Video: "All for the Best"


7. "Stillness is the Move" - Dirty Projectors (from the album Bitte Orca)
To the song's credit, the first time I heard "Stillness is the Move," I thought it was a brilliant sequel to Rihanna's "Umbrella," with its ginormous, skittering drum loop, shimmering Eastern guitar line, and gorgeously lilting female vocals. Turns out it's just Brooklyn-based experimental-rock group Dirty Projectors, refusing to be subjected to the boundaries of genre by crafting 2009's best love song and best R&B jam. It may take a few listens to fully comprehend the greatness of "Stillness," but once you're hooked, you'll wonder why this wasn't the commitment-jam of the year.
Video: "Stillness is the Move"


8. "Oh My God" - Ida Maria (from the album Fortress 'Round My Heart)
Ida Maria "suffers" from synesthesia, the neurological disorder that causes her to see colors when she hears music. Luckily for us, she utilizes her gift to write killer pop-punk tunes like this one, as well as her second single, "I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked." Maria's smokey, husky voice goes from kitten-purr to tiger-yowl in mere seconds, chanting the line "Find a cure for my life" until it becomes a mantra for her unique brand of feminist rock, equal parts Lily Allen and Joan Jett.
Video: "Oh My God"


9. "Bruises" - Chairlift (from the album Does You Inspire You)
Chairlift is the latest in the ongoing line of graduates from the iPod-commercial school of hitmaking, like Apple's "discoveries" The Fratellis, Feist, CSS, and The Ting Tings before them. "Bruises" is the sound of an indie band with huge pop aspirations; all it takes is a breezy, simple bassline, ethereal '80s synths, and lyrics about headstands, hot summer afternoons, and frozen strawberries.
Video: "Bruises"


10. "New Fang" - Them Crooked Vultures (from the album Them Crooked Vultures)
Them Crooked Vultures literally embodies three generations of hard-rock royalty; Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age), Dave Grohl (Nirvana, Foo Fighters), and John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin) get together and bang out a killer blues-rock riff that sounds as fresh and innovative as it does classic. Despite the supergroup's lengthy resumes, it's clear from the onset that "New Fang" is almost too easy for them, the sound of three great musicians at the top of their game just having fun in the studio. Nevertheless, nothing released in 2009 rocks harder and with more hard-earned swagger.
Audio: "New Fang"


The Rest:
11. "(If You're Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To" - Weezer (from Raditude)
12. "Heads Will Roll" - Yeah Yeah Yeahs (from It's Blitz!)
13. "Two" - The Antlers (from Hospice)
14. (tie) "Satellite Skin" / "King Rat" - Modest Mouse (from No One's First, and You're Next)
15. "Hell" - Tegan and Sara (from Sainthood)
16. "Love Story" - Taylor Swift (from Fearless)
17. "Nikorette" - Conor Oberst and The Mystic Valley Band (from Outer South)
18. "Make Her Say" - Kid Cudi featuring Kanye West & Common (from Man on the Moon: The End of Day)
19. "All is Love" - Karen O and The Kids (from Where the Wild Things Are: Motion Picture Soundtrack)
20. "3" - Britney Spears (from The Singles Collection)
21. "I'm on a Boat" - The Lonely Island featuring T-Pain (from Incredibad)
22. "The Warning" - Eminem (non-album track; intentionally leaked online)
23. "Crying Lightning" - Arctic Monkeys (from Humbug)
24. "Fly Farm Blues" - Jack White (single only; from the film It Might Get Loud)
25. "Fireflies" - Owl City (from Ocean Eyes)


Other Notables:

Artist of the Year:
Karen O (for her work on It's Blitz! and Where the Wild Things Are, as well as guest work on The Flaming Lips' Embryonic and N.A.S.A.'s The Spirit of Apollo)

Best Reissue:
The Beatles Stereo Box Set / The Beatles in Mono - The Beatles

Best Live Album: (tie)
Not Alone: Rivers Cuomo and Friends Live at Fingerprints - Rivers Cuomo
Glitter and Doom: Live - Tom Waits

Best Original Soundtrack:
Where the Wild Things Are: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Karen O and The Kids

Best Compilation:
500 Days of Summer: Music from the Motion Picture - Various Artists

Best EP:
No One's First, and You're Next - Modest Mouse

Best Mixtape:
No Ceilings - Lil Wayne

Best Local Album: (tie)
Headphone Music for Nowhere People - Cultured Animal
Snake Oil Salesman - The-Front

Best Kids Album:
Here Comes Science - They Might Be Giants

Best Cover Song: (tie)
"All for the Best" - Thom Yorke (originally performed by Miracle Legion)
"Here Comes Your Man" - Meaghan Smith (originally performed by Pixies)
"Authority Song" - Reel Big Fish (originally performed by John Cougar Mellencamp)

Best Sample: (tie)
"So Human" - Lady Sovereign (samples "Close to Me" by The Cure)
"Make Her Say" - Kid Cudi (samples an acoustic version of "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga)

Best Music Video:
"Paparazzi" (Long Version) - Lady Gaga

Best Live Act:
The Hold Steady

Best Guitar Riff:
"Crying Lightning" - Arctic Monkeys

Best Beat:
"Run This Town" - Jay-Z (Produced by Kanye West)

Best Lyric:
"Bear (or, Children Become Their Parents Become Their Children)" - The Antlers
("There's a bear inside your stomach / a cub's been kicking you for weeks / and if this isn't all a dream / well then, we'll cut him from beneath / Well, we're not scared of making caves / or finding food for him to eat / We're terrified of one another / and terrified of what that means / But we'll make only quick decisions / and you'll just keep me in the waiting room / and all the while, I'll know we're fucked / and not getting un-fucked soon / When we get home, we're bigger strangers / than we've ever been before / You sit in front of snowy television / suitcase on the floor / "We're too old." / "We're not old at all." / "Just too old." / "We're not old at all.")

Best Rhyme:
"On to the Next One" - Jay-Z
(Used to rock a throwback / ballin' on the corner / Now I rock a tailored suit / looking like a owner / No I'm not a Jonas / Brother, I’m a grown-up / No I’m not a virgin / I use my cojones.")

The 10 Worst in Music

1. Chris Brown
Admittedly, I didn't listen to one thing Chris Brown released in 2009, and if you did, then you might be part of the problem. Bad enough that the teen-beat poster boy became the year's worst role model by assaulting ex-girlfriend Rihanna, but then he proved himself not only an asshole, but an idiot as well, responding to Oprah Winfrey's criticism by calling it a "slap in the face." Nice choice of words, douchebag. I'm not big on judging musical artists by their offstage behavior; I don't care what kind of jerk you think Kanye is, his artistry proves his worth and justifies his oversized ego. Chris Brown, on the other hand, will be remembered in history merely as a bad Michael Jackson impersonator who turned into a second-rate Ike Turner. He's not even worth an illegal download.

2. "My Wena" - Bowling for Soup
You might have seen the music video for this song, posted on Facebook by that annoying guy from high school who still lives with his mom and works at the local Kum-N-Go. It features the culturally irrelevant pop-punk band running around with a human-sized penis. Even discounting bad taste, there's no way anyone with a brain has been able to make it through more than a minute of this song. It's time to un-friend that guy.

3. Johnny Cash Remixed - Johnny Cash and Various Artists
I love Johnny Cash, and I like Snoop Dogg, but halfway through the god-awful "Walk the Line (ODT Muzic Remix)," my ears started bleeding. Between Everlast's ridiculous "Folsom Prison Blues" cover and this disastrous DJ project, it's pretty clear that hip-hop needs to leave Cash's legacy alone. The Man in Black has been deceased for almost seven years now. It's time to let him rest in peace.

4. "Prom Queen" / "On Fire" - Lil Wayne
Extraordinarily gifted people sometimes tend to believe that they will be good at anything; Michael Jordan wanted to play baseball, and Shaq still thinks he can rap. Lil Wayne is the greatest rapper of his generation, so he obviously thinks it qualifies him to record a rock album with a third-rate nu-metal band. These horrendous singles from his oft-delayed Rebirth prove that Weezy should stick to hip-hop; let's just hope he forgets this abortion of an album and finds time to wrap up Tha Carter IV before his prison sentence begins in February.

5. "Kings and Queens" - 30 Seconds to Mars
Hey, Jared Leto -- I'm not sure what your rabid cult of fans hears when they listen to "Kings and Queens," but you're not Bono; you were much better at ripping off AFI than you are U2. Or, even better yet, how about this... go back to acting.

6. Crash Love - AFI
It's official: AFI circa 2009 are so culturally irrelevant that they resemble cheap imitation of 30 Seconds to Mars circa 2006, who were ripping off My Chemical Romance circa 2004, who were, in turn, trying to be AFI circa 2003. Leave it to Davey Havok to destroy what remains of the Hot Topic/black eyeliner scene that he helped create.

7. Relapse - Eminem
Suffering and recovering from addiction can be a harrowing experience, but in Eminem's case, it's nearly as painful for his fans. Em repeats essentially the same story over and over again on almost every one of these 20 tracks -- he takes too much, passes out, and has serial-killer fantasies -- but almost never lets the listener in much further, as he might have a decade ago. This, combined with the ridiculously over-the-top nonsensical accent that he's adopted since 2004's Encore, makes for the worst album ever from the man formerly known as The Best Rapper Alive.

8. "Desolation Row" - My Chemical Romance
I generally love a good Dylan cover, especially when it brings to light intricate melodies that Bob's creaky voice can't quite wrap itself around. This version, though, takes Dylan's epic masterpiece eleven-minute Highway 61 Revisited closer and tries to condense it to three minutes of dull cock-rock for the Watchmen closing credits. It feels like trying to write a term paper about Paradise Lost by reading the Wikipedia page; you get the idea, but you ain't gonna get an 'A.'

9. Light - Matisyahu
The Hasidic-reggae schtick was really cool for about a year, producing the killer singles "King Without a Crown" and "Jerusalem (Out of Darkness Comes Light)," but on his third album, even Matisyahu sounds bored of himself.

10. New Again - Taking Back Sunday / Alter the Ending - Dashboard Confessional
2009 may be the year that emo finally gave up the ghost, and these two forgettable albums by former innovators of the genre serve as its generic, over-commercialized death-rattle.

The Morning News

Final imitation project for Short Story class. It might not make any sense unless you were to read the piece I'm imitating, but suffice to say that it's basically a surrealist work of fiction that plays on the themes of media desensitization and the over-stimulated American culture. It's not really something I'm planning on taking any further than this class, but I hope you enjoy it regardless.

"The Morning News"
by Cameron L. Maris
an imitation of “Reading the Paper” by Ron Carlson

All I want to do is watch the morning news, but right now, I’ve got a wolf to shoot. The damn thing killed my dog last week, and before that a domestic goat, as well as several guard dogs before that. The state has authorized us to kill the entire wolf pack, and killing wolves is not an easy or a pleasant thing to do. I’m a pretty decent shot, though, as my father took me hunting when I was a kid, so I don’t fret about it too much. The wolves are always coming around the yard, looking for squirrels and rabbits, so it’s easy to get a bead on him and take him out. Then Mollie’s alarm clock goes off, so I throw a bagel in the toaster and brew us a pot of coffee before work. She drinks two cups with me, and as her car pulls out of the driveway, before I can even pick up the remote to turn on the TV, I hear the squeal of tires and the gnashing of metal and glass. Some kid has been huffing Dust-Off like we used to do in the basement of the old house, and the kid’s so high that he can’t pay attention to the road, and he’s t-boned Mollie’s car and killed her. There are two cans of Dust-Off on the floor of his passenger seat, and one of them has his DNA all over the fucking thing. So, I’ve finally got the news on and I’m halfway through the leadoff story, and there’s a loud crash from the backyard. It’s so loud and so early that I know it’s got to be something big, and I’m right. It’s a huge branch that’s fallen off the tree in the backyard, the tree that’s being destroyed by the beetle epidemic from the news, the beetles that’ve been killing trees all over the Rocky Mountain region. The critters have been slowly migrating from Yellowstone to other parts of the state, and sure enough, here they are, in my backyard, tearing my tree apart, grain by grain. After surveying the damage, my bagel’s cold, so I pop it in the microwave and am about to sit down when I see Gabriel, my friend from Casper, walking up the sidewalk in his dark grey peacoat, so I pour another cup of coffee. Gabe’s cough seems to be getting worse. She started coughing about a year before the EPA started regulating emissions of greenhouse gases from cars and factories and whatnot. Our senators and congressmen have been working to prevent the legislation, bless their souls, or somebody might have done something sooner. But now, Gabe’s purchased a handkerchief to cover his mouth to catch the phlegm and spittle, so that makes it a little more tolerable. He says he heard about the wolf thing, and he asks “What color was that wolf, anyway?” I barely pay attention to him, because I see through the window two Muslim guys down the block, hanging out at the courthouse with bulges under their robes. If the explosion’s too big, it’s going to get debris all over my yard, which I just raked yesterday. The bombs go off, and most of the shrapnel lands in the street; that courthouse had such nice big white pillars out front. I turn back to Gabriel and the morning news, and I notice the coffee-ring stain on the kitchen table is still there. Gabe’s cough is worse than usual, a little deeper and wetter these days. God damn it, as much as I scrub and scrub this lousy stain, it never really seems to come out.

Window

Another attempt at micro-fiction for next week's class. Only three paragraphs this time, and I think this one's less.... um... tacky. Please enjoy.

"Window"
by Cameron L. Maris

Three young girls dressed in sweatpants and nightshirts creep across a front yard in a nice middle-class neighborhood. There is a boy inside the house, a boy the girls know from school, and it is two-o-clock in the morning. The girls had thrown a slumber party, and have snuck out of the house, scurrying and giggling down the block in socked feet, clutching their chests in the cold November night. Tina is the bravest of the three, and the most in love with the boy. Her hand is moving slowly and cautiously merely inches from his window. Colleen stands just yards behind her, holding her hands out awkwardly in the air to maintain her balance in case she suddenly needs to run. Amy stands further back, on the sidewalk, nearly in tears. She had not wanted to sneak out; the others had teased her and she did not want to seem like a scared child.

This is how I see them as I turn the corner on the dark street -- posed in the yard like a plaster nativity set, and lit in the halo of the streetlight. I recognize their poses, and am struck with an odd sense of clarity and kinship. I, too, was once someone who believed that true love was something that involved throwing pebbles at a window in the middle of the night.

Amy glances at me with terrified, watery eyes as I pass. Her future is something that she has been trying to imagine, without much success. As she gazes down the street after me, all she sees is darkness.

The Number-Four Fade

We've been studying the art of micro-fiction (also known as "flash fiction") in Short Story class, and we've been assigned to write a piece for next week. Feedback might be nice; it's not due 'til next Tuesday.

“The Number-Four Fade”
by Cameron L. Maris

“Beth” is the name she writes, next to my name, on the chart, which I glance over as she sets it on the cold beige counter. When she asks me what I want her to do, I give the usual rambling description as if I am just now speaking the words for the first time, like it had just now occurred to me to get a haircut. Beth drapes the protective plastic cape over my shoulders, unfurling it out around me into the air like a bed sheet.
“Are you from here?” Beth speaks awkwardly and deliberately; this is a rehearsed conversation that hairstylists must memorize.
“No. From Alaska originally, but I was raised mostly in Sheridan, about four hours north of here.”
Beth turns on the clippers and begins cutting. I attempt to continue the conversation. “You?”
“Here.” Beth speaks in one-word poems, flash-of-light love sonnets.
“In Laramie? Born and raised?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. What’s it like going through puberty in a University town?” (Ha Ha.)
“It was actually . . . boring.”
I wait for her to continue the small-talk, but she never will. I want to ask her things, like if she is a student, but I resist from fear of embarrassing her. I can feel the blade of the clippers pulling and cutting each individual hair, Autumn wind yanking leaves violently but passionately from a tree.
I watch Beth’s hands moving in the mirror. She wears three rings, two on her left hand and one on her right. Her hair is dyed two different colors; her thin frame looks even thinner and more fragile as she stood next to my square shoulder. Her breast, firm and round beneath her rubber apron, brushes me as she moves past. I look like a granite formation next to her willowy figure.
Beside us in the waiting area, two young blond boys wrestle with each other. Their older sister chastises them, “You’re going to bump into that guy,” motioning to me.
“Yeah,” I smile at the children, “You wouldn’t want to bump me, or she might cut my ear off. You wouldn’t want Beth to cut my ear off, would ya guys?” The boys say nothing, giggle and run away. Their sister stays behind and smiles. She feels vindicated. I have vindicated her authority, her womanhood. She is proud, and I am proud of her.
“Don’t worry, Beth, I know you won’t cut my ear off,” I joke, “despite the wild things in the corner.” Beth smiles and blushes, but she doesn’t reply. I briefly imagine Beth’s hand slipping, and lopping off my ear in one smooth motion. The blood is dark and warm, and it looks beautiful on Beth’s smooth hands.
The front of Beth’s jeans rub against my shoulder as she cuts. I can see her nude, laying in my bed; I see myself making love to her in the cold glow of the moonlight, she, writhing with sharp and bitter desire. All of space and time folds into a tiny sliver of air, no wider than a wisp of hair, and I can see it all. I wonder in this moment if she can see the same things I can.
“In the future, you can just tell them you want a number-four fade,” Beth says quietly, in almost a whisper.
“So if I come here again, I can ask for Beth, and I can tell you I want the number-four fade?”
“Yep.”
When Beth is finished cutting, she removes the plastic cape and leads me to the cash register. I am much too generous in tipping her, since the cut she gave me was far too short, and nothing much like what I had asked for. I glance back once at the pile of my dead hair on the floor, mourning briefly and silently.
I sense the icy breath of snow on my neck, and I feel naked. Winter is coming; winter is here, and I am totally, woefully, unforgivably unprepared.