Gods of parking lots. Makes my boy smile.

Chances are you've heard this one already, and are groaning from it. But, just in case.

Here are Editors, sometimes called Boy Division, with "Munich".

Enjoy

It's never too late for your mix tape.

Here's Minus the Bear's "Pachuca Sunrise"

Let me know what you think.

I've diagnosed myself to having acute anhedonia:

Anhedonia, the inability to gain pleasure from normally pleasurable experiences

That said, here's Metric's "Poster of a Girl" for the 4th Day of Christmas.

Only true love and happiness can save me now. Or, this.

Tags: Pinarello, Metric, Christmas

I actually went Christmas shopping today, for the first time this year. I used a gift certificate someone gave me because he says he can't use it.

In other news, track 3 of your Christmas mix comes from Mates of State. If "Goods" doesn't have you humming all day, then you are not human.

I say, "pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-rah!" That's all you have to know about this song and you're set.

Tags: Christmas

Dynah's "Promises"

It sounds like a lot of things: nice hook, a bit emo, a tad bit Brit, -- but it sure doesn't sound like they're from Texas. (Then again, it's Austin.)

I know, it's a little late, but planning was never my strong suit.

So, yeah, remember when you used to get mixed tapes from me all the time? Back when I was still throwing you some game?

Enough. I figured I'd give my readers something this Christmas (because it's Christmas), so I've decided to do a cheesy 12 Days of Christmas thing but with the best music I heard for 2006. Free, old music -- this is as cheap as it can get. Doesn't necessarily mean these songs are from 2006; instead, it's just that I heard them for the first time in 2006.

Okay, I'm stalling. Kicking off with The Jayhawks and "Somewhere in Ohio," a track that makes me want to get on my bike and ride the countryside. Don't know why.

You'll get another one tomorrow, if not later.

Tags: Jayhawks, Mixed+Tape, Christmas

This one by special request (via Meebo, that chat thingy on the website).

Durga's getting LSS. So, here it is: Sun 60's "Middle of My Life".

UPDATE: Link to the mp3 now fixed!

Apologies for not blogging lately. All four readers must be out of their minds!

So, here's a treat for you: some nice indie pop from a Philly band no less. "Skyline" from The Jane Anchor has a nice hook to it, and I like how it's intentionally muddled up.

Soraya sang:

A thousand visions have come to me
Promising serenity
And as I struggle to find the source of this peace
I always end up with your kiss.

May that peace last. Listen to "Suddenly".

Been hella-busy, with two jobs and the house. (And, in the spirit of complete honesty, catching up with "Prison Break." Went is mucho guwapo.)

Through this "long, hard slog" it's nice to have some old tunes for companionship, especially on rib-to-rib MRT rides. Busted this one out as part of a mix CD I made for the car (no, no one's gotten me an iTrip yet) that had the theme "Happy Place, Happy Place" -- an antidote to the tough Manila driving. It's still hasn't been burned, but the lineup looks pretty good.

Jonatha Brooke, like the Oracle, has been with us since the beginning. I had a chance to see her in Philly, but dowsed it upon hearing it was at a sixties-styled cafe in a place where buses stop running after 10. She would croak, and tease, on live performances, which intrigued me. But if she's alone with her guitar (without a band), I didn't think it was worth it.

Brooke reminds me of what I like about folk music: it makes you feel good before tearing your heart out. You see, there's Ryan Adams, there's Wilco, and then there's "So Much Mine," which informs the listener that regret, which Adams does excruciatingly well, can come in a form of saltwater taffy.

Listen.

Since I've been writing copy again (amongst many things I'm revisiting) I've been paying more attention to lyrics -- more than I usually do. In fact, they've become more important than what the actual act of listening to the music makes me feel.

This has made it more difficult, albeit more interesting, to find music to listen to. Lately, I've been stuck going back and forth through Sparklehorse, Ryan Adams, Wilco and The New Radicals (the latter, through an invitation from my brother). Adams, who is rumored to have enough songs written for eight more albums, is a bit of Bruce, a bit of Bob Dylan, and a lot of everything brokenhearted and Western. Of course, his work is lyrical and intelligent given the high-calorie subject matter.

Then, as if to deflect age, I started listening to The Killers. It may be too late, but Wilco's as old as dirt anyway. I've begun to, also possibly to deny charity for my wrinkles, pay more attention to local pop culture. I'm not talking about badminton, but rather, John Lloyd and Bea Alonzo. The other night I took in "Now That I Have You" without the slightest bit of reluctance.

Normally, yes, normally, I would loathe spending more than 15 minutes over such fare; this one was unusually entertaining (maybe it was because I really had nothing better to do or that it was set against a backdrop of MRT-commuting individuals, and somehow reinforcing my new membership). At any rate, it held my attention, considering "Batman and Robin" and "Cold Mountain" were the other options.

More importantly, I have, through searching for ad reels to present in class, recently found Jose Gonzalez. His cover of Heartbeats, used for Sony's famous Bravia commercial, is quite unforgettable. Iron and Wine-ish, yes, but it sounds old enough to remind me of how simple it was to be eight years old.

Check it out.

If you're listening to something else other than Bloc Party, you're wasting your time. And, if you've been listening to Bloc Party already -- that energetic, "unpigeonholeable," intelligent Brit band incorrectly lumped in with The Strokes and (ugh) The Killers -- well, you must know why Bloc Party's Silent Alarm is the best album of 2005.

All the emotions: guilt, remorse, happiness, anger, hatred; and, all the themes: love, hate, boredom, manipulation, are transferred efficiently through louder-than-usual drums and manic bass riffs that are invigorated with Kele Okereke's frantic, pulsating vocals. You can't listen to this stuff below eight.

In "Like Eating Glass," you have:

I can't eat, I can't sleep
I can't sleep, I can't dream
An aversion to light
Got a fear of the ocean

Like drinking poison, like eating glass

in Radiohead-like angst in a relentless, Breeders-like march. Listen.

There are so many ways to relish Once Blue's "Where to Now?": first, you can follow along with the double bass, plucked to a soothing meandering rhythm. Then, you can, without learning the words, allow yourself a seduction from Rebecca Martin's intimate singing that teases and coos every syllable.

Finally, the lyrics. On a perfect clandestine beach some where, you wonder what's in store for you and your strange, newfound lover.

Join me on the sand and rest yourself
What's the rush to leave for someplace else?
Listen to the sound of folding waves
Watch the planes go by.
Nothing we say or do secures our place
When a gust of wind a thousand miles away could
Change the course of everything. Everything.

Summer is fading, and we don't know where to. Listen.

I've been really gentle, so when I thought of putting up a single from brother and sister team K's Choice, I thought, well, let's put up the friendliest one out there.

From an album produced by Gil Norton (who has produced for Pixies and the Foo Fighters), "If You're Not Scared" got the Belgian band billed across Europe and booked on the Lilith Fair. "If You're" is very unlike the amped guitars you'll find in other tracks from 1998's Cocoon Crash, but it's the nicest sing-song-iest one they have.

Although the band is arguably beyond its prime, their music was a better fit for the nineties, when grunge was grunge, Todd Oldham was hip and Liz Phair hadn't sold out yet. (Tell that to the Gin Blossoms or Better Than Ezra who are trying to make a comeback.) They have the right amount of angst and sentimentality (and pre-millennium tension)that made the 90's such a dissonant time.

More recently, K's Choice released a "Ten Years of..." CD which pretty much signals that their best years are behind them.

It doesn't mean that they won't be worth a listen. Take it here.

I'm turning a little soft as of late. It's probably all the snow.

There's John Legend (although, damn, "Number One" is a lot of fun) and there's proper folk music like Iron and Wine. When I say proper, I mean afternoon sun, blue skies, Claritin proper. Iron and Wine's "Our Endless Numbered Days" is a lyrically and musically outstanding piece of work so frank and genuine that it will make you forget about things like shopping and Social Security.

With "Naked As We Came", Sam Beam has a fresh and melodic perspective on the amped acoustic guitar and how close you can sing on the microphone without slobbering it. Soft vocals and polished instrumentation, "Naked" is the most unforgettable song about a double-suicide you will ever hear.

Listen here.

(If you want to see the other tracks on Your Mix Tape, click here.)

If there was one song that approaches perfection -- if not already there -- "Carolyn's Fingers" may have actually passed that point. The Scottish trio has found a beautiful method to marry feedback, lush musicscapes and acute songwriting with Elizabeth Fraser's wren-like wailing proclamations. And, of course, the indecipherable lyrics (is she telling us her secrets?). Each song is as personal as it is harmonically enchanting; soaring over and across you, or immersing you in a thick velvety soup. You can almost taste the clouds.

Every second of 1998's "Fingers" resonate with a genius at par with, at that time, Sonic Youth and Pixies.

And, if you want the lyrics (like you could sing along), go here.

P.S. If this reminds you of Sugarhiccup, well, it should. The band's name is a Cocteau Twins song. P.P.S. The Twins are reuniting.

Azure Ray sounds more like a secret Belly b-side than a duo from Alabama (which they are). But what makes them work is that they've been together since they were 15 (kinda like me and the wrinkle on my forehead) and their haunting vocals and guitars mix up Mazzy Star with the harmless drone of a My Bloody Valentine rift. No big studio production, but enough layers to convince you to take them seriously on a snowy day.

Here on "If You Fall" they approach a level where their spare instrumentality sounds like Shonen Knife sitting next to Prince, happily sipping earl grey tea.

Listen.

From jazz, to house, to Ibiza, here's A Man Called Adam's "Estelle" from Cafe del Mar's first volume. Vocals that remind me of Cyndi Lauper plastic-wrapped with rum and sand.

Listen here.