Top Five Tuesday: People on Public Transit

Welcome back to Puke on Your Birthday's longest running and most infrequent column, Top Five Tuesday. Today's author is Zach. You can check out all the previous Top Five lists HERE.

I boarded the plane from Istanbul to Sharm el Sheikh, not expecting there to be TVs behind the seats. To my great joy, there were. I was going to maybe watch The Phoenician Scheme, the new Wes Anderson movie, but it didn't get the best reviews, so I kept scrolling. There, in front of my face, in the "More Hollywood" category, was a movie called Before Sunrise. I had never heard of it. I clicked on it. "Two people meet on a train," it said, or something to that effect. "Sounds potentially amazing," I said to myself. "And only 100 minutes long. Let's try it."

I have to admit that I considered turning it off during the scene where they talk in the café car at the beginning of the movie. There was something about the dialogue I didn't love, that didn't feel that real. But I'm happy I continued, because the Vienna part of the movie made this instantly vault to one of the top ten movies I've ever seen in my life, I think.

I've talked to Joe and Gloria about this movie, and they also love it. Since I watched, I've continued on and watched the rest of the trilogy. Before Sunset was just so great, so so great, and Before Midnight was good too but harder to watch.

But nothing can capture the magic of meeting someone new on the train and falling in love with them. That kind of interaction is my dream interaction. And while I haven't had what Jesse and Camille have, I have had more than a few public transit interactions in my life.

With that, here is my Top Five list of People I've Met on Public Transit.

5. Ido. His friend started talking to me first. I don't remember why. It was a normal train ride for me, on my commute back to Jerusalem from Tel Aviv, a ride I took every day. He was mostly quiet as we talked. But then, at the end, he said "why don't we do a language exchange?" That's how I took his number, and that's how we met several times, me speaking Hebrew, him English. It turned out he had lived in Berlin and was the student of a rabbi that I love. We haven't seen each other in a little while, but I've run into him a few times. I'll always love him.

4. The girl from the Chinese train. I was on a 30-hour train ride from Urumqi to Kashgar in Western China. I talked to lots of people, but somehow I ended up talking to her. She knew English, which really helped. We ended up going to the same hostel. I traveled with her and others for the next week. We hitchhiked together, partied together, took the train back to Urumqi together. At one point we kissed. I asked her on the train back how the kiss had felt for her, and she demurred. But we also spoke with the train conductor on the way back, and it turned out he lived near the airport in Urumqi, where I'd be catching a flight the next day. With her translation help, she set me up that night to crash at his apartment. We caught three buses to get there. He bought me watermelon and we watched the Chinese version of The Voice. 

I also don't remember her name. I wrote her on WeChat once, and she responded, but that was it. I don't have a WeChat account anymore. She is lost to me, lost to the sands of time.

3. Ted. I was on the train from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. I had just finished up a few weeks hiking with my girlfriend in Nepal, and now I was on my big, two-month trip, alone through Southeast Asia. I don't know if I've ever felt lonelier in my life. It was my first time really traveling alone, and I was nervous about meeting people, how it would go, etc. I missed my girlfriend, even though I wasn't that into her. I slept on my bunk in the train, mostly not interacting with anyone. Then, all of a sudden, a bearded dude struck up a conversation. He was Dutch and knew of a hostel in Chiang Mai and did I want to join him there? He was very friendly, and I instantly felt calmer. His name was Ted. After getting off the train, we met an Australian woman named Heather, and we all took a taxi to A Little Bird Hostel, where we'd all stay for the next few nights. We all went out that night, dancing with other travelers we met.

Ted was the first person who made me feel at ease while traveling, and for that I'll always be eternally grateful. Now I'm more of a veteran, but I really needed him then.

2. The girl from the PATH Train. It was February 2016. I had finished yet another frustrating day at my job, where we'd done a pointless field visit to Rutgers-Newark, to have public meetings that no students attended. My boss dropped me off at Newark Penn, and I got on the PATH to Manhattan, on my way to a Shabbat dinner that night. I was writing in my journal, as I often do on trains and buses, even to this day. 

She got on the train and sat a couple seats down from me. The train was mostly empty. "What are you writing?" she asked me. "So cool!"

To this day she is one of the only people who has ever said anything to me about writing in my journal on public transit—almost no one comments on it.

We talked about writing, and journaling. I asked for her number. She told me she had a boyfriend. I told her that it was fine, that I'd still love to be in touch. She gave me her number. I invited her to an event once, but she didn't reply. I don't remember her name, or how she looked. She's in my phone somewhere, but I would have no idea how to find her. But I'll always appreciate her as the person who appreciated my journaling.

1. Tine. I've already written about her here. But this is the interaction that I've had in my life that comes the closest to Before Sunrise. At the risk of destroying the mystery from my first post, here goes:

I was on an overnight bus from Bocas del Toro to Panama City, where I had a flight to catch to Newark, back to where I'd start my new job post-grad school, Summer 2015. Just like in the movie, there were annoying passengers involved. Tine was sitting next to them, but because of the passengers she had to switch seats, and she moved next to me, this beautiful blonde-haired woman. The seats were assigned, so she didn't choose me, I don't think, but by chance we ended up next to each other. She was going back to Panama City, and from there would be on her way to Colombia before heading back to her home in Germany. We started talking, and ended up talking the whole ten hours. Neither of us slept, and I think we bothered the other passengers, who were (rightfully) trying to sleep. I fell in love with her that night. It crossed my mind to try and kiss her during the ride, but it felt like an invasion, and I held back, and what would it have achieved, anyway?

At the end of the ride, I asked for her Facebook. She had been putting together what she called a "Happiness Book," where people from her travels told her what makes them happy. I wrote her after I got home. "Happiness is being tired, just ready to get through a long bus ride with angry yelling door banging women and a misguided Che Guevara so that you can get home quickly, and then, completely by chance, sitting next to someone who you feel like you experience a deep connection with. It was a great time staying up until 2 AM and beyond, totally unexpected and really, really nice. You're a really special person, and it's easy to tell that soon after meeting you. I would take those angry looks from other passengers any day if it means hanging out with someone like you."

She wrote back positively, although there were no declarations of love. We kept up a few messages over the years. The last time she wrote back was Summer 2020. "That was the best bus ride ever!" she said. She also said she had moved to Dresden with her boyfriend. I wrote her again in 2023 to tell her I had a layover in Munich, and was she anywhere nearby to meet while I was there? But Munich and Dresden are five hours apart. 

She never wrote back.

I still think there's a chance that Tine was—is—the love of my life. But it's easy to fall in love on a train, or a bus. Making that love last eternally is harder, as Before Midnight shows. I've made my peace just enough with Tine being the love of my life, yes, and that she's frozen in time, with none of the challenges or heartbreak that life brings your way.

Top Five Tuesday: Best Movies to Have Sex To

Welcome back to Top Five Tuesday. After literally years of telling myself I'm going to get my shit together and create a landing page for all of PoYB's Top Fives lists, I finally got my shit together and did it. Here is the new landing page for Top Fives. If you want to make your own Top Five, send it over! It'll save me from having to write something on a Tuesday sometime soon!

"Netflix & chill" is definitely still a thing, even if you're one of the cool, reasonable people who cancelled their Netflix subscription before that shit started getting really out of control. The problem with Netflix? You can't have sex while watching any of their movies. The quality is fucking dogshit. It's too distracting to be like "wait, what artless gutless empty suit of a Netflix exec green-lit this fucking trash?" and when you start thinking about that kind of stuff, you lose your boner.

Sorry, in the time it took me to write that paragraph, Dave Chappelle was paid another $100 million by Netflix for taping a brand new special about how he hates trans kids.

Let's not worry about any of that for now. Let's instead get horny.

Top Five Best Movies to Have Sex To

5. Encino Man

I'm just dropping random movies in here, because I actually want to write another blog post, but I was too anxious about writing it by itself, so I'm slipping it into the framework of a Top Five about movies to have sex to. You can fuck to anything. You could fuck to Cool Runnings if you wanted to. Trust me, I've tried... and SUCCEEDED.

What I actually wanted to do was write a blog post about myself (lol, what else is new), but specifically within the framework of "I am going to a therapist tonight for the first time in a very long time and I want to make sure I have a good handle on myself beforehand so that I can use the allotted 50 minutes to get him up to speed on who I am and what I'm about." So this blog post is a dry run, I guess. Who am I? If you were my therapist, what would you need to know?

I'm hoping that by placing all these thoughts within a blog post about Top Five Best Movies to Have Sex To, it can act as a firewall against the possibility that I'll just simply be like "I have a blog post, read this instead of listening to me," which is a lazy shortcut. This will stop me from even mentioning this blog in my session, because if I mention it, then he'll type in the URL, and the first thing he'll see is "Top Five Best Movies to Have Sex To," which would not be an accurate first impression. I am now fully motivated to NOT mention the blog to my therapist in any way.

4. Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!

I did legitimately get horny watching this film, but I was alone, and I have too much respect for Film Club to get distracted by horniness while watching a film!!!

First, I'll have to tell him the basics, because these are important. I am a male, 37 years old. I am definitely white, I am mostly heterosexual, I am mostly cisgender. I grew up in upper-middle class and remain in the upper-middle class. I have a master's degree in my field. I am happily married and I have three young daughters of single-digit ages. We own a home. I have a steady job. I will tell him what the job entails, but I won't type it here. I will say that I previously had deep financial concerns but those concerns have lessened at least 75% over the past six months. I spend a lot of time with my family, and over the past two years I've had added stressors over the fact that I see my family less because of my job. We have a both-parents-working household, and we have strong family supports for childcare.

All of this is relevant to who I am, so I will say it, but none of it feels relevant to the reason I am going to see a therapist. It's important to know, but the therapist could probably get by if I told him none of this and let him just assume whatever he wanted to assume about the basics in my life. I don't think any of this is affecting my mental health in a way that would require a specialist to listen to me talk about it. On the other hand, there's also a good chance that the therapist will be like, nah dude, it's all related, you have to tell me, and here's why. So I'm covering all my bases here.

3. Star Wars: A New Hope

I just had sex while this movie was on a week ago. My takeaway? Not enough Jar Jar Binks.

He'll probably want to know about the drinking, since therapists, man, they love substance abuse. It's honestly such a cut-and-dry subject. It's been studied extensively, everyone knows what works and what doesn't. You tell a therapist that you're in there for substance abuse and they start licking their lips and rubbing their hands together. But I've written enough about this subject on this blog, especially in the past five days, that I feel like going in depth about it again might be a bit of overkill.

It's important to me because it's something that I did and was actually successful at (so far). It's also relevant to the reason I'm talking to a therapist, but in a tangential way. I don't need strategies on how to avoid substances, I think I managed that okay. What I need is strategies on how to deal with the emptiness left in the wake of alcohol's disappearance from my life. I don't think I feel sad or empty because I'm an alcoholic or because I had 10,000 beers in a row and needed to stop. I think I feel sad because I know I had to stop, and I did, and what's left is a whole host of other emotional issues that I never had to address when I was slopping the Hamm's Special Light down my gullet like water.

It's grief, is what it is. Grief over losing a friend. I know this. I'm not a crier at funerals. I accept death, I know it's permanent, I'm not clawing at the casket wishing my loved one were back with me for one more day. But in losing alcohol, I lost something pretty deep, and I think that bottle-sized feeling of emptiness within me metastasizes sometimes as similar-but-not-same emotions, like loneliness, or longing. It feels like I'm continuously searching for something, and I don't know if I am actually missing something or it's just my brain incorrectly assessing the very simple basic grief of sobriety.

2. Love Actually

I can personally attest to this one as well. Just make sure you time it so that you're not fucking when that disgusting British pervert who travels to America is on the screen. I hate that guy.

Something about me that I'll be curious to ask about is the fact that I seem to care a lot what people think about me. I'm really sensitive about it, but I'm also pretty decent at hiding that sensitivity. My entire existence depends on praise or criticism, it feels like sometimes. My mood sinks really low when I'm criticized for something, and I'll feel it in the pit of my stomach for a long time. I feel incredible when someone is nice to me or takes the time to point out something that I did right. I seek approval and that guides a lot of my actions. I fear reprisal and that guides a lot of it too.

In retrospect, I think I grew up in a household that was stingy in its praise but almost total absent in its criticism. This means that I crave praise too much and that I don't have the tools to face criticism appropriately. Moving in together with Pam was an interesting adjustment period because I was facing criticism for legitimate reasons for the first time (at least when it comes to in-the-home shit, I guess), and it took me a while to understand what that meant and how to appropriately address the criticism. I also think that I find myself attracted (not sexually, but like, in a human-connection way) to people who are stingy with the praise. Like maybe if you praise me too much, I get suspicious or something, and I subconsciously start to distance myself. I want praise but in the depths of my soul I usually feel like I don't deserve it anyway.

And I have this problem where I interpret apathy as criticism too. Like I'll worry that if you don't text me back or don't reach out to me or there's any reluctance to hang out or chat or whatever, that this means that you don't like me, or are annoyed by me, or have finally had your fill of me and that's it. Even though that's mostly never true, and it's really just people wrapped up in their own shit, and the idea that it's about ME is incredibly self-centered. There's this thing where I feel like sometimes I care more about people than they care about me. I think it's actually true maybe half the time, and the other half is just my anxieties talking.

Even with the therapist, there's this desire to be a "good patient." Like maybe I'm picturing the therapist hearing all these insights and being like "wow, you've thought about this a lot already!" which would constitute as praise for me, and make me feel good. At the same time, maybe that's not the type of therapist I need. Maybe I'm going to need him to be like "cut the bullshit and just let me tell you something you don't already know."

1. Hocus Pocus 2

You can't really go wrong with this film. Basically every scene has one of the following: a hot-ass Hannah Waddingham dressed like a witch; a hot-ass Sarah Jessice Parker dressed like a witch; a hot-ass Sam Richardson dressed like Sam Richardson. A very memorable movie, who could possible forget it?

So if I try to put all these pieces together, it looks like this. I feel sad for unknown reasons. I try to express that sadness but it doesn't come out right, and a Pam-type in my life questions why I would feel that way, or would take offense as to why I would feel that way, what, is my life not good enough, etc. And that makes sense, because I can't express why I'm sad, only that I'm sad, which is confusing and frustrating for all involved. It makes things worse because then I'm given a reason to be sad, like maybe my wife is mad at me because of being sad, and how that sadness makes her life worse, OR maybe this is my assumptions again, how I'm assuming that when people don't feel like dealing with me it must be because they don't like me, which is maybe sometimes true but not always, and especially not with my wife. But even if I acknowledge the truth of all this, then at the end of the night I still feel like shit and I'm not anywhere closer to the answer than I was at the start. I think it has something to do with sobriety, which frustrates me because the whole point of me stopping the drinking was because I wanted to live and I did that and I'm alive but at the cost of feeling sad more often? How is that fair? But then I try to lay the blame at sobriety's feet but that doesn't feel right either. I know I'm missing alcohol but the feelings I have feel so disconnected from alcohol that it honestly just confuses me more. I am immediately suspicious of anyone complimenting me on sobriety because I fear that it's masking some loathing on their part, both in that sobriety is in its essence pious and holier-than-thou and those are repulsive qualities, and also that sobriety means that I am less fun, and that I stripped something away from myself to everyone's detriment. "Congrats on the not drinking" as a way of saying "but I wish you were still drinking." How "congrats" makes me feel good anyway, but it's a hollow goodness. How this is obviously all me being so strung up on what other people think that I'm starting to walk in circles now. I wonder if it's just a chemical imbalance, either something that occurred naturally or occurred because I imbalanced it for so long by tipping the scales with alcohol that a true balance feels completely wrong for me. I wonder too if the fact that I don't always feel this way nullifies the honestly rare times that I do feel this way. Like is it wrong to talk to the therapist for something that happens to me maybe once a month, etc. Or is that just my anxieties worrying about what other people think again, etc. And if it's gotten to the point where I'm sad and then I'm worried about what the therapist is going to say about all this, in what ways he will criticize me and withhold critical praise from me, in response to the deep dark thoughts I've been thinking... well then, yeah, probably time to see a therapist.

I'm not joking, Hannah Waddingham is so fucking hot in this movie, it's insane.

Top Five Tuesday: Worst Movies to Have Sex To

by Stef

I don't know if "Netflix & Chill" is still a thing, or if it ever was a thing. But popping on a movie you're gonna pretend to watch before you make your move is a solid go-to. The movie choice seems secondary, you're only going to pretend to watch it anyway. But if you've ever Netflix-and-chilled someone, I'm going to bet that movie continued to play in the background while you made sweet love to your partner. And maybe you chose the perfect sex movie, timing it perfectly so you finish just as Frodo casts the ring into Mt. Doom. But for most of us, the pressure to choose the right movie is one thing, but picking wrong? You're motorboating to the outro theme of Curb Your Enthusiasm before you know it. No one wants that.

So, after years of tireless investigation, here are some of the most boner-killing movies to avoid (with spoilers!).


Top Five Worst Movies to Have Sex To

5. Forrest Gump

An overly indulgent film—the classic "just because we can doesn't mean we should." There's not much that can give you the ick faster than Tom Hanks pretending to be a man with a disability. But the digitally altered historical footage, the underlying blind patriotism, it's bound to create chaos and confusion during love making. Scenes so ridiculous and garish that it warrants a "can we turn this off? I'm losing my boner."

4. I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry

Remember when society thought it was okay to use "gay" as an insult? It's horrifying to think about now, but don't worry. This film immortalizes the homophobia of the early 2000s perfectly. All of the elements are there: stereotypes, gay panic, the over-sexualization of gay intimacy. Who doesn't want to witness Jessica Biel ask invasive and sexually objectifying questions to Adam Sandler about homosexual relationships? Me. Turn this one on if you want to be turned off!

3. Cats

Is it okay to be sexually attracted to an animal? It isn't. But imagine just as things start to heat up, a CGI cat with boobs and a human face flashes on the screen. Confused? Of course you are. You keep finding your eyes drawn into the uncanny valley on screen. It's the morbidity of your humanness. And as much as the song "Memory" slaps, is it worth destroying all sexual momentum you've cultivated the moment you hear the tapping feet of Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat? I argue no.

2. Howard the Duck

I ask the above question once more and answer it the same. So imagine my confusion when on screen appears Howard, a human-like alien duck who went to med school and is canonically horny. This movie does everything in its power to blur the line of sexual morality between man and animal. And after a few minutes of watching Lea Thompson in bed with a talking, animatronic space duck, you'll find yourself thinking more about Howard's anatomy than your partner's. Also, there are duck tits in this movie. Think about it. But not too hard.

1. Jack

A film directed by Francis Ford Coppola, can't go wrong with that, right? Well buckle up, because this is by far Robin Williams' most disturbing film, and I include Bicentennial Man and One Hour Photo in that consideration. His role? A little boy who, due to a genetic mutation, has aged into a fully grown man before the age of ten, but only in appearance. Imagine between thrusts: the voice of 45-year-old Robin Williams infantilizing himself, trying to coerce Jennifer Lopez into pedophilia, befriending known predator Bill Cosby, and having tickle fights. You'll never recover, your partner is likely to bolt for the nearest exit. But Fran Dresher is in it, so maybe it is a little sexy?

Let me know if you've found worse, because these are pretty bad!

Top Five Record Club Albums of 2025, According to Our RC Staff

If I had to guess, I'd say that 80% of the 300+ Record Club reviews this year were written by five people. If you exclude the summer in which I forced people by emailed gunpoint to write, that number jumps up to 90%. I appreciate everyone who submits their thoughts and feelings and truths to Puke on Your Birthday. I am deeply indebted to those who are regular contributors.

I asked our four regular Record Clubbers to submit their Top Five RC Albums of 2025. All of these writers wrote reviews for more than 50% of the albums this year, and there wasn't a single week when none of them wrote. But still, there were enough gaps that I think each Top Five list can provide a unique perspective here. So let's see what they thought. Thank you kindly to all those who took part in Record Club in 2025.

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Gloria

For my 2025 "Record Club Wrapped" list, I excluded my picks and Mayam's pick from the running. I was debating whether to remove albums I already knew too, but decided against it, and will add runners-up to make up for that.

Runners-up

Getting Killed by Geese — A good, strong RC pick. I was feeling jaded about there being a bunch of middling albums on Record Club when we got to this. Geese revitalized my spirit for PoYB, haha.

L'Africain by Tiken Jah Fakoly — I never really thought about reggae music much beyond Bob Marley. This was a great look at how the genre is interpreted globally. It has really beautiful rhythms and socially conscious lyrics that give you perspective outside of your normal reality.

Top Five

5. For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) by Japanese Breakfast — Not a brunette, but enough of a sad woman that I definitely fit into the target audience of this album. Michelle Zauner is an extremely talented songwriter.

4. Faces in the Rocks by Mariee Siou — This was such a light and beautiful listen. I think that we listened to it at just the right time of year, when the snow was melting and early flowers were peeping out. It really stood out to me. Mariee Siou is the only “new to me” artist that made this list.

3. The Doors by the Doors — A couple self-titled albums for the list. I love any album with funky organ parts. This is truly hit after hit.

2. Black Sabbath by Black Sabbath — It's a great album, and it was good to revisit some of my memories associated with it. Sending love to the Quinns who are back to living on their farm in Texas, the Garden of Eden.

1. New Dawn by Marshall Allen — Marshall Allen truly proves that "you have your whole life to write your first album." But that same saying states that you have six months to write your next one, so I'll just be patiently waiting. It's cool seeing how much culture is intertwined in this. I didn't realize that Neneh Cherry was Don Cherry's daughter until I went to the opening of Moki Cherry's exhibit at the Fabric Workshop and Museum. I think it's still on display. You should go, her art is amazing, but it makes you feel like you should be viewing it blowing in the wind at a field during a music festival, not strapped to a painted brick wall on Arch Street. 

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Nate

CAVEATS: Does not include records I selected myself, does not include records I would have or did listen to outside of Record Club. To be considered for the end of year honors, the records must have been new to me and a direct result of the benevolence of Record Club. And so, here go the list:

RECORD CLUB TOP FIVE ACCORDING TO THE OLD NATE DOGG:

5. Super Ghostbusters by Vargskelethor — A new classic in the genre of "I will not recommend this to you, but I do like listening to it."

4. Dreams of Being Dust by the World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die — An ire work to put the past to bed.

3. L'Africain by Tiken Jah Fakoly — The world is beautiful place and I am no longer afraid to die.

2. The Silver Tongued Devil and I by Kris Kristofferson — An OG son-of-a-bitch on the benefits and appeals of being a motherfucker. 

1. A Boy Named Goo by Goo Goo Dolls — Awful album name, unimpeachable tower of power-pop.

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Zach

5. The Young and the Hopeless by Good Charlotte — I was surprised by how much I liked this album, but in hindsight I shouldn't have been. 2000s nostalgia, actual deep themes, emotions? Yes please.

4. I quit by HAIM — I liked this album a whole lot, and listened to it a whole lot. "Relationships" is amazing. I just wish the album as a whole stuck with me more. Women in Music Pt. III and Days Are Gone are the ones for me, this one less so.

3. The Vandalist by Noga Erez — Probably the least controversial pick of RC this year. There were no passionate takes. All the reviewers were unanimous in liking it, amirite? Just like everyone who reviewed it, I loved it, too. I can't stop listening to it, and that's good enough.

2. If You Asked for a Picture by Blondshell — Melancholy enough to be nostalgic, modern enough to be something new. I feel this album will be a fine wine for me, aging gracefully over the years.

1. L'Africain by Tiken Jah Fakoly — I just really loved this album, from an artist I knew very little about before I picked him. I could listen to it over and over again.

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Sunny

Hey, let's give a hand to all our RC albums in '25. What a year (of music) it's been. Special shoutout to our instrumental albums (from Steve to Marshall), our foreign language albums (from Fakoly to Rós), and all our weird stuff (from Shaq to Ghostbusters) to providing the proper variety to the whole guy. Upon resampling the material, here are my almost snap calls, which I imagine I'll regret and internally revise tomorrow morning

6. M.B.D.T EP by DJ Arana — Apotheosis of all my shoutouts, basically, and served with an economy that can't be beat. MIS BROPAS.

5. Alligator Bites Never Heal by Doechii — The memory of the album has in part been elevated due to Doechii's work and presence in the intervening months, something that cannot be said of many albums pre-March

4. I quit by HAIM — There are enough high production singles that elicit dancing making this is a fun album, and music should be fun. Also, I reiterate my spiritual alignment with the album; I should quit this list right here.

3. Getting Killed by Geese — The big tracks have continued to worm into my head, and the others are fine too. I get the buzz; definitely one of, if not most artists, of which I wonder "in two to three years, will they take off or sputter out?”

2. The Will to Live by Titus Andronicus — Combined with the outing to the show, this album lives very high in memory. The older I get, the tougher I find it is to get excited through media, per se; this is an exciting album.

1. For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women) by Japanese Breakfast — It's not for me, it's not from me, but here I am continuing to lurk around months later. Jeff Bridges also lurking around is one of the very strange good surprises of the year.

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Thanks to all our regulars for their time and talents in 2025. I'm hoping to add a few more regular writers to our staff in the new year, and I'm hoping that these four bright minds will stick around for a while longer.

Dreams of Being Dust, Nate

In an interview on Stereogum, the band leader of TWIaBP (EiC will either add the homie's name in here or he won't, I look forward to finding out on Friday [Editor's note: band member Chris Teti said this, and he plays guitar/trumpet in the band, and also produced the album]) said that he took inspiration from the Buffalo, New York hardcore band Snapcase in the run up to the creation and release of this here album. This is neither here nor there, but Snapcase fuckin rocks, and anyone who would like to get into some heart-pounding rock and roll music should check out Progression Through Unlearning, or at the very least the tune "Caboose." 

I don't need to tell you all anything because I know you went and checked out the song and album before coming back to read the rest of this, but suffice to say this record does not really sound anything like Snapcase. What it sounds like, broadly speaking, is "post-hardcore," or perhaps more specifically, "a formerly emo/indie band turning heavy but retaining elements that recall its previous style," or maybe more negatively "a tweener in that it is neither heavy enough to satisfy nor is it beautiful enough to mollify." 

That last quotation is being a dick though, because the elements of harmony and indie-style arrangement on shit like "Captagon" and "December 4, 2024" are ultimately the moments that rose above the din, even if they work against the album's heavier instincts and actively diminish songs like "Auguries of Guilt," which feels hamstrung by its artfulness. In short, we must find a better way to write about automation and attention economy soul destruction without saying the word "algorithm" in songs because it sounds very wack as a lyric. 

Top Five Snapcase Songs:

5) "Caboose" / "Guilty by Ignorance" — The piccolo snare on this record is so rad.

4) "Depth of Field" — Bright Flashes is underappreciated, but also underbaked.

3) "Coagulate" — True story: there was a metal girl at my high school who I had a massive crush on who loved Snapcase and this song and album specifically. I met up with her at a Snapcase concert and gave her shit for liking this album as I did not deem it "punk enough" or "heavy enough." This is likely the first time I talked my way out of getting laid, but certainly not the last. This record is fine! Being fifteen is a crime.

2) "Ambition Now" — You start playing this song and by the end of it you're in a skate video.

1) "Harrison Bergeron" — Can you imagine if Snapcase ever got to be on Letterman? "That was wonderful! Lovely job, fellahs. Did you rent those drums? Wha'd you think, Paul? Snapcase, everyone, goodnight!"

Song of the Day: "My Little Japanese Cigarette Case"

A column about music, and about how the music informs our lives. Today's author is Joe. See the previous songs HERE.

"My Little Japanese Cigarette Case"

Spoon

from Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

2007

Obviously, I have a lot to say about those songs that I consider the best of all time. I have much to say and I've said much of it already. But something that I've been meaning to write about recently is another type of song, besides "the best songs." I'm talking about "the songs after the best songs." Like, the songs that literally come after the best songs, in the track sequencing. 

I don't know if I have anything high-minded to say about it. I do find it fascinating that there exist certain songs that will always seem lesser-than, simply due to the fact that the follow an all-timer. It's not their fault. They would probably feel like pretty great songs, in most cases, were it not for the timing of it. Instead, as it exists now, these songs hit with the strength of a wet fart. It's all relative.

Here are my Top Five Worst Songs After the Best Songs. Again, let me emphasize the fact that they aren't bad songs in a vacuum. They are just bad because they aren't the best, and that fact is constantly underlined whenever you listen to the album with the best song on it. It almost makes you wonder whether the artists in question even knew what they had in those best songs. Like, if they knew they had just made one of the best songs of all time, surely they would have placed that song at the end of the album, right?

5. "It's a Curse" by Wolf Parade
(After "I'll Believe in Anything" on Apologies to the Queen Mary)

"It's a Curse" is such a good song. If it had showed up on a Handsome Furs album, I'd be saying it was a highlight. But the breathless epic the precedes it makes it seem pedestrian.

4. "Communist Daughter" by Neutral Milk Hotel
(After "Holland, 1945" on In the Aeroplane over the Sea)

I don't know if "semen stains the mountaintops" is a brilliant lyric or one of the worst lyrics of all time, but the fact that we have to listen to it repeated multiple times in the chorus of this song, right after the bangingest banger that NMH ever put together, makes me lean toward the latter.

3. "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance
(After "Welcome to the Black Parade" on The Black Parade)

I made the claim above that all of these Best Songs would have worked best at the end of the album, but I don't know if you can do that with "Welcome to the Black Parade." This is due to rock opera plot reasons. Something's gotta follow the big song that sets up the story. So why not a ballad, I guess.

2. "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras" by the New Pornographers
(After "The Bleeding Heart Show" on Twin Cinema)

As of this writing, the New Pornographers have not changed their name, but I have a strong suspicion that a name change is gonna come down the pike eventually. It's all good. It's not like this band hasn't made big changes before. Probably the biggest is the gradual disappearance of Dan Bejar, who brought a weirdness to this band that served as a great balancer of A.C. Newman's straight-ahead power pop. The only time the weirdness seemed out of place was following up one of the best songs ever.

1. "My Little Japanese Cigarette Case" by Spoon
(After "The Underdog" on Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga)

"We need a hook!" "But sir, we used up all the hooks in the last song." "Alright, fuck it, send the next song out without a hook then!!"

It's Not Too Late: YSC, Day 152: Maeve

Prompt: "A song that has a type or brand of candy in its title"

Selected by Maeve

"My Boy Lollipop"

Spice Girls

from Spice World, 1997

I am not a candy girl. When it come to sweets, I'd much rather veer cookie, cake, pastry, ice cream, etc. I wouldn't say that I subscribe to "gummy ain't yummy," but I never really treat myself to those, and I actively don't like Skittles, Starbursts, Nerds, anything of that variety. But since you'll be reading this on Halloween, here's my official Top Five ranking of Halloween candy (shoutout to Brianna, who did a much better version of this):

1. Reese's
2. Snickers
3. The single Kit Kat that's only sold in Halloween candy bags
4. The tiny Butterfingers that still get stuck to your teeth
5. Milky Way

**Side note, my favorite candy is a Turtle. They're perfect and such a treat.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 152: Brianna

Prompt: "A song that has a type or brand of candy in its title"

Selected by Brianna

"I'm a Gummy Bear (The Gummy Bear Song)"

Gummibär

I Am Your Gummy Bear, 2007

To begin, some shoutouts. First, to my nieces, who have been throwing down to this song for much of their childhood so far. And to my brother, by virtue of being father to said nieces, has probably heard this song more times than what is good for anyone's mental health. 

Now, onto one of my favorite activities (and what ends up being an essential and annual debate at our weekly D&D Club sessions around this time of the school year): ranking candy.

5. Paydays — I'm a sucker for all things peanut- and peanut butter-centered, and so this is just the first of three appearances of the legume on this ranked list. Along with what would be #6 on the extended ranking list (Almond Joys) and #4 (see below), I feel like my enjoyment of this treat has branded me as one with the taste buds of a senior citizen, but I stand firm on my belief that they belong this high in the conversation. 

4. Raisinets — Most of my indulgence in candy is in the setting of a movie theater. In such a place, is there any better combo than a large bucket of buttery popcorn and a box of Raisinets? The answer is no. 

3. Haribo's Twin Snake Gummies — Okay, hear me out. I know Trolli's Sour Gummy Worms tend to get everyone's attention in this genre of sweets, but Haribo is giving us a lot more in the flavor end of things here. While Trolli presents a lot of classics (who doesn't love a sour red/blue guy?), these twin snakes offer up some brand new things for the taste buds to enjoy. Cherry and orange, apple and lemon, blueberry and... what's that you say? Blackcurrant? I don't even know what that is, but holy shit is it delicious. Thin in diameter and free from a sugary coating, the Twin Snakes also offer a satisfying texture that, in my opinion, is much better than the uber soft Trolli variety. While on the subject...

2. Reese's Sticks — When in the business of ranking candy, the difference between your goods and your greats comes down to one thing: texture. Is a Three Musketeers tasty? Sure, but it certainly wouldn't crack my top 25 list with that smooth, nougaty bullshit. Give the people what they want, give us the satisfaction of some crunch! See, the people in charge of the Reese's department get it. Reminiscent of a sugar wafer cookie in between layers of peanut buttery heaven, the Reese's Stick is a marvel of the modern world. Give a girl a pre-movie trip to Wawa with $5, a pre-roll, and a dream, and she'll walk out with the king-sized four-pack and a perfect cinematic experience no matter how good the movie actually is. 

1. Take 5s — The year was 2004. I was young, in walking distance of the neighborhood Wawa, and the world yearned for a new chocolate treat. Prayers were answered and lives were changed with the release of the Take 5 that year. Chocolate, caramel, pretzel, peanut butter, and peanuts—has there ever been a more destined combination of deliciousness? There's a salty element, a crunch, the smooth pull of caramel after your first of two bites. Man, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. Kind of like trying to think of a never before seen color, it's hard to imagine what the next generation of new chocolate candy could bring. With the Take 5 in existence, however, I yearn no more for such things. With the Take 5 in existence, everything is exactly right.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 136: Nate

Prompt: "A song that's probably gonna be in that new Grand Theft Auto game, whenever it comes out (unless it's already out, I don't know, I'm writing this prompt pretty far in advance)"

Selected by Nate

"Guilty & Cortez"

Kid Chameleon

How Long the Devil's Been Gone, 2024

God bless Fucked Up for giving me the phrase "epics in miniature," an incredible addition to my music-describing lexicon. This whole album was recorded on an 8-track recording device, which basically means it's very limited in its presentation. The scope, though, is vast. As much as I will always ride for people using limits and picking up the tools they have, you can just hear the big-band, big-production version of this dying to come out and be blasted across some stadium in the UK to 50,000 muddy blokes and lasses. At minimum, it makes you wish Kid C upped to a 12-track and hired a real drummer. As it is, this whole album is a treat and an exercise in expressing ambition with limited means. I assume these are the qualities that GTA looks for in its soundtrack tracks.

A BRIEF ACCOUNTING OF THE MOST EXCELLENT VIDEO GAME SOUNDTRACKS:

5) Persona 5 — Specifically this tune right here

4) Jet Set Radio — Shit rips

3) Crazy Taxi — The video game that invented the Offspring

2) Amped — A mid-tier snowboarding game with more punk and hardcore cred than you'd ever hope to have

1) Tony Hawk's Pro Skater — SO HERE I AM / DOING EVERYTHING THING I CAN / HOLDING ON TO WHAT I AM / PRETENDING I'M SUPERMAN

I've been with the kids by myself all week while Meg has been laid up with a case of COVID/Strep. She's been shut up in our bedroom while I've been sleeping in my office in the attic. As it is in all attics, it's hotter than fuck-all up here, which wouldn't be a problem because my bed is right under a window unit except I have to keep it off at night so I can hear if one of my kids wakes up and needs help, which happens about once every three nights. As a result, I've been waking up sweaty around 1 AM for the last three nights. I am starting to see the grid that underpins all reality over here. Also, the house is disgusting.

Top Five Tuesday: The War on Drugs and the National

Headed to a concert tonight at the Mann Center. Shout out to all the PoYB Contributors that are gonna be in attendance and no doubt writing a long, extensive, detailed review of their experiences to be published here. We got Sunny! We got Rachel S.! We got Dwyer! We got my wife and best friend Pam! We got anyone else? If you're reading these Top Five lists and realizing that you bought tickets to the very same War on Drugs / National double bill that I'm referring to, then hit me up! We're gonna crush Aldi seltzers for an hour beforehand in the parking lot!

I am hoping that the Mann Center, like Union Transfer and Johnny Brenda's, does not have a strict No Recording Devices rule of any sort, because I'm gonna bring my shitty little voice recorder and get some audio of the concert. I'll do what I usually do and write the setlist and give some general thoughts. I wasn't kidding about any other attendees writing down some thoughts as well, but we'll see about that.

So that'll be the review. This here will be the preview. My own personal Top Five War on Drugs Songs and Top Five National Songs.

Top Five War on Drugs Songs

Dwyer did a great job ranking (almost) every War on Drugs song a couple weeks ago, so if you're gonna start somewhere, start there. The man knows his Drugs. Should he have included instrumentals? Should "In Chains" have been higher? Should he have stuck to evaluating studio versions of the songs only? Should Kurt Vile have gotten more than a brief mention? Yes on all counts, but ya know, that's the blogging game, baby. This ain't groupthink, these are personal opinions, and should be respected, if not necessarily agreed with. That was a good ranking. Don't listen to a goddamn word he says.

I am pretty fond of this band, but not as much as Dwyer might want me to be. It took me a long time to "get" Lost in the Dream, their big breakout. It's a big sound, and I have a weak stomach. Years later, and it finally clicked for me how good it was. A Deeper Understanding feels just as big but is always gonna be a "Lost in the Dream but again." I Don't Live Here Anymore was a come up but that has more to do with Record Club giving it a boost than an actual measurable rise in quality.

No, I think I've always been a Slave Ambient guy. It's one of those things that the album you discover at an important time in your life is the one that sticks with you, and Slave Ambient is that album for me from that time. I was a bit lost in life, having given up the college dream (i.e. to stay in college forever), against my will, to return to my parents home, work every day, save some money for a sojourn in a far-off city with my then-girlfriend, just clocking the hours and sitting in my room after work and listening to a weird little band from Philly that used to have Kurt Vile in its ranks (also listened to Kurt Vile's Smoke Ring for My Halo a lot around this time). So maybe this is my favorite War on Drugs album.

I don't know. It's all complicated. Ranking songs from an entire discography is tough. All that being said, I just listened to Wagonwheel Blues for the first time last week, and so here is my list of Top Five War on Drugs Songs of All Time.

5. "There Is No Urgency" from Wagonwheel Blues — A band might still be trying to figure out their identity on that first album. That's fair. And maybe, throughout that process, they are gonna sound like other bands. Also fair. No shame in sounding like Dylan or Springsteen, those are very safe touchstones to fall back on. But here? "There Is No Urgency"? Takes some fucking balls for such a band to sound so much like Animal Collective in this context. Certainly not the worst song in this band's discography, I mean, c'mon.

4. "Show Me the Coast" from Wagonwheel Blues — The trick isn't finding nirvana. The trick is to stay there. Once you hit on that perfect sound, there ain't no reason why you shouldn't stretch that shit to ten long minutes. Shit, bro, shoulda made it 100.

3. "Buenos Aires Beach" from Wagonwheel Blues — I love that we get a little "oh!" at the end of the first verse on this song. That oh would earn a few more exclamation points as War on Drugs progressed and matured. Me? I think there should be as many exclamation points as you can possibly fit in there. Murder me with the oh.

2. "Taking the Farm" from Wagonwheel Blues — Nice groove.

1. "Needle in Your Eye" from Wagonwheel Blues — Are you there, God? It's me, Joey. I haven't talked to you in a really long time. Not since like junior year of high school when I decided you didn't exist. But I need you to exist now, God. I need you to hear me, hear my plea. My desperate call for help, from my lips toward the heavens. Please, God, please. What I need, more than anything else, is to go to the concert tonight and show up early and see the War on Drugs roadies getting all the shit on stage and see them dragging that goddamn (sorry) Wurlitzer out onto that stage, see the big Wurlitzer and know for certain that War on Drugs are playing "Needle in Your Eye" live for the raucous Philadelphia crowd. Please. I know it's a lot to ask. I know I haven't been going to church lately. But I need this. Thank you, Dear Lord. In your name I pray.

Top Five National Songs Songs

Alright, alright, I'm actually going to take this one seriously. I didn't need to actually rank my favorite WoD songs. It doesn't matter. Someone else already ranked their songs. I said what I needed to say about that ranking. You can click on any of the links in that original ranking and hear the songs and decide for yourself. Wagonwheel Blues really is a great album though. I wouldn't mind hearing "Needle in Your Eye" live. We'll see.

The National, I mean, what more is there to say on this blog that I haven't already said.

How about this: I hate the "sad dad" descriptor that I see constantly. Calling this band by that description seems way too glib. I mean, it's not necessarily untrue, but being a sad dad is not really something to celebrate. It's real and painful and it's hard-earned. Sleep Well Beast soundtracked the autumn of 2017, when Pam was pregnant and I did something so horrible while blackout drunk that I will never actually write what it was on this blog (so it musta been real bad, hoo boy). By the winter/spring of 2019, that baby was almost one, and I was still blacking out, and one time shipped the baby to my parents so I could go out and drink a lot and wake up and keep drinking and write about Sleep Well Beast and then stop at the Wine and Spirits at Frankford Terminal so I could keep drinking on the El and then got to my parents' and blacked out again while the baby slept and I told my parents who knows what. I get sad thinking about this, and my thoughts about the National are wrapped around them and refracted through them in sad but also beautiful ways. Sad dad indeed.

And that's the Sparknotes version of my story with only one of their albums (either my favorite or second favorite and either their second best or third best). Boxer was one of four albums that defined the pivotal freshman year of college. Alligator soundtracked a really dark winter break. I Am Easy to Find found life in the early stages of Record Club, and remains so important to me. Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers showed up late and stayed even later. High Violet missed me due to financial reasons, but made its way back around for critical reasons. Trouble Will Find Me was the sound of my life right on the very cusp of falling into the groove that I still find myself trapped in today. 

I'm not here to rank the albums. Thank god. Imagine seeing Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers at like #6, and how fucking suicidally painful that sight would be. Jesus fucking christ.

They aren't going to be playing any albums in full tonight anyway. The songbook is too deep. So let's rank some songs. There are more than five good ones, obviously. I'm not doing any honorable mentions because, again, if you wanna hear more songs from this band, you can do the work yourself. It's worth it. Even the last two albums they put out, both in 2023, have some bangers that I'm excited to hear tonight. You can't really go wrong.

But here are my five favorites, after much hemming and hawing. There aren't going to be many surprises. The National have very many great songs but the cream of the crop are that way for many. Just a symptom of being able to crank out more than five songs that could easily work as the song of a generation. What a shame.

5. "I'll Still Destroy You" from Sleep Well Beast — Okay, but if there was going to be a not-necessarily-consensus pick in this bunch, I'd slot it in at #5, and I have done so here. When I hear this song, I am brought right back to those crucial months of my life in the autumn of 2017, when an impending fatherhood made me fear that I wasn't good enough for all this, that I was going to fail. Pretty boilerplate new-father anxieties, you see... but then again, not every song can speak to them so painfully as this song can.

4. "Lit Up" from Alligator — There's always a lot of talk about the National needing to "go back" to how they used to sound, a harder sound that involved more of Matt Berninger screaming and less of Aaron Dessner bathing us in a warm tub of bleeps and bloops. But, ya know, it's tough to ask the old vanguard of indie rock legends to do this, to make new hits like the old hits sounded like. If you really are that butthurt about Bryan Devendorf trading in his drum kit occasionally for a electronic drum pad, then all you gotta do is put on "Lit Up." Hear that anthemic chorus again. Feel the catharsis of a band in the pocket.

3. "Bloodbuzz Ohio" from High Violet — The thing about the National is that their lyrics don't really make sense on first glance. "I was carried to Ohio in a swarm of bees." But, c'mon, you know as I do (or pretend I do) that this isn't how poetry works. What does the swarm of bees mean to you? Figuratively speaking? Oh, I remember my bees, back at the turn of the decade, when I was still getting my bearings straight on the whole post-college thing. It makes sense that "Bloodbuzz Ohio" would be the song that made me feel like I could be bigger than I was, since it's also the song that made the National bigger than they ever were before. This is the sound of an indie rock band reaching stadium status.

2. "All the Wine" from Alligator — My perception of the power of this song collapsed around the same time that I stopped acting like its protagonist. The irony is that, with newfound clarity, I see an even greater power in "All the Wine." I see sadness in what I lost and what I thought I had. I see joy in living in the moment, which can happen no matter what is or is not coursing through your veins. I see a peace in being who you want to be, the person you need to be in any given moment.

1. "Fake Empire" from Boxer — Looking over the tracklist on Boxer, I am thinking that maybe there are a few other songs on that album that make me feel more than "Fake Empire" does. The thing about "Fake Empire," besides the fact that it's a perfect song, is that I'm not the only one who feels this way about "Fake Empire." It's a well-known song. It's well-liked. A lot of people might consider it the National's best and, like me, one of the best songs of all time, full stop. But I wonder if maybe something like "Brainy" or "Mistaken for Strangers" or "Green Gloves" or "Apartment Story" shouldn't be here instead. Then I listen to the songs again, and each one is like a punch to the gut, almost too painful to bear. They are all just too tightly tied to maybe the biggest, weirdest, saddest, most volatile months of my entire life. I seek "Fake Empire" for protection above all else. Maybe we can just pretend its about the 2008 Obama campaign, instead of what it's really about, to me. That feels better. That feels more endurable.

I don't have a "bucket list of bands I want to see live" or anything like that, but if I did, these two artists would both be on it. Glad to cross 'em both off the list that doesn't exist on the same night.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 115: Nate

Prompt: "A song about revenge"

Selected by Nate

"Training Montage"

The Mountain Goats

Bleed Out, 2022

There might be five better active songwriters than John Darnille, but there certainly aren't ten. A brief accounting of my personal Mountain Goats journey: Joe P. got me into them when I was an editor at the Collegian, the album Heretic Pride was my way in. Used to cover "Dance Music" and "No Children" and "The Anglo Saxons" at open mics around this time, and my then-band recorded a cover of "The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton" which I will not link to but I am sure Joe will find. Got incredibly, desperately into Tallahassee and We Shall All Be Healed, listened to those albums so much I could at one point recite them from memory. When my grandmother died, I turned to this song and this song; the former will still make me cry if I play it so I don't listen to it anymore, the latter I heard the band play live, and once they explained what it was really about, it freed itself from my grandmother and I can listen to it now. I got off-board right around the album with all the bible verses, and will occasionally jump in and find that the quality is still there. You can only be obsessed with a band for so long, I guess. The beginning of the end for me was seeing the band live and discovering the cult of personality and borderline worship that followed the group. I liked them fine, but seeing a room full of people conjuring and broadcasting such transparent emotional need onto a bunch of indie-rock dudes killed the magic trick for me. Someone once wrote in a review that the best Mountain Goats album is whatever one you listened to first, and while I don't think that's totally true, I do think it's a band that you can come to in stages. Great band, happy they're there, if it's your first time, stay while, if it's not your first time, visit as long as you like.

Top 5 Mountain Goats Songs (this was real fuckin' hard, apologies to "Choked Out" and "The Diaz Brothers" and "The Miss Inside" and "Cubs in 5" and about 20 other songs, FUCK this band is good):

5) "Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod"
4) "Oceanographer's Choice"
3) "Sax Rohmer #1"
2) "Cotton"
1) "Outer Scorpion Squadron"

It's Not Too Late: YSC, Day 106: Maeve

Prompt: "A song that takes place at a sporting event"

Selected by Maeve

This video doesn't have the whole song, which is annoying. You can find the full studio version on SoundCloud here.

"The Phanatic Song"

Dr. Dog

single, 2015

By virtue of being a song about the Phillies mascot, this technically means that this song takes place at a Phillies game... right? I'm also writing this after the Phils just got swept by the Yankees—their first series sweep of the year. Tough! The post-All-Star Phillies aren't looking as goofy and fun as they did prior. I'm seeing less shimmying and more strikeouts. Was Whit Merrifield really the vibes glue guy?! The vibes certainly haven't been replaced with this new Orioles player Hays, who is apparently homophobic, posting the longest dumbest post about god on their Pride Night. Get a grip, I almost wanna say "keep your thoughts to yourself" but also not, because those are dumb thoughts regardless, but imagine feeling so incredibly strong that you have to go post about god??? There's no place for that energy on this team (don't tell JT as he hosts his god night... at least Bryce tries to pander into coolness), but the reason this team is fun is because they're kissing on the cheek, shimmying to each other, talking about how much they love each other and mostly because the "and they were roommates" meme could perfectly be about Bohm and Marsh... and I really hope it is (a.k.a. I hope they're in love). 

I have decided to go to a Phillies game a month this year, because I love fun. Here's how they rank so far:

1. May 15th vs Mets (WIN)—Bridget's birthday game, so many runs, great group of friends
2. March 29th vs Braves (LOSS)—Opening Day, incredible energy in the stadium... until they started losing. My seats were incredible: row 12 in left field
3. July 29th vs Yankees (LOSS)—Absolutely atrocious game, fans were pretty 50/50 split between the two teams, best seats I'll ever have: row 10 on the first base line, was there with so many people I love and we were all seated apart, the two men next to me absolutely hated me and hated that I knew what I was talking about, which made me weirdly proud, most importantly, my beer guy who I love from the Sixers was selling drinks in the aisle and gave me the warmest welcome and we screamed about the Paul George acquisition over everyone else
4. June 29th vs Marlins (LOSS)—waited too long to get tickets and the cheapest tickets available across all platforms, including resale platforms, were $50 standing room only tickets from the box office. Insane! Great time with the girls, Stubbs hit a homer which was fun!
5. April 11th vs Pirates (WIN)—it rained and I had a cold sore that was so painfully distracting, but was a great time all around

Top Five Tuesday: 2024 Albums So Far

none of these jabronis are on here

Every year, I listen to fewer and fewer new (to that year) albums, which is fine. I'm not obligated to do anything, and I'm choosing to follow my bliss instead of keep up with the joneses. What's the difference? I mean, I guess the only difference is that blog posts like this are going to be affected. Now I gotta put an asterisk here at the top, something that goes: I have ignored a lot of new and probably good music this year, and this list is not comprehensive. It's just a few albums that I've really liked in 2024 so far. Favorite, not best—you know the deal.

I will be taking recommendations, though. It takes two recommendations for me to actually listen to something, but you never know, maybe yours will be the second. Meet me in the comments.

Top Albums of 2024 So Far

5. Paul Bunyan's Slingshot by Liquid Mike

I really like the idea of a smalltown local band, through unknown serendipitous means, making it big (with "making it big" being relative to the indie rock nerds on the internet outside of that small town, but you know what I mean). I also really like the idea of a lethally catchy 30-minute pop-punk album. 

4. World Wide Whack by Tierra Whack

The world is divided between those who are smart enough to be consciously weird, and everyone else. I can tell within five minutes what kind of person someone is. Took me a little bit longer with Tierra Whack because all her songs are like 27 seconds long, but still, here we are, and I can say definitively—she is my kind of people.

3. Critterland by Willi Carlisle

One of the most captivating songs of the year isn't really even a song, it's more of a seven-minute poem about growing pot in the Midwest. "The Money Grows on Trees" comes at the very end of Critterland, and it's a mark of the quality of this album that it doesn't seem all that much like an outlier. Willi Carlisle is doing the "outlaw music but for today!" thing, and there ain't no one better at that game.

2. The Past Is Still Alive by Hurray for the Riff Raff

Weird that the top three albums on this list are all at least country-informed, if not straight-up country. I think it's time to just acknowledge that genre doesn't really matter, not when the songwriting is this good, this pure. Puke on Your Birthday now has a jar into which you have to place $1 every time you say something cliché about not loving country or formerly not loving country. After you pay your $1, you have to listen to The Past Is Still Alive and atone for your sins.

1. Tigers Blood by Waxahatchee

I guess the only thing that miiiiight hold it back from being the #1 album of 2024 is that Waxahatchee was already this good before the year started, and she didn't necessarily do anything radical with Tigers Blood. It's just an improvement on Saint Cloud, only the best album of 2020, nothing much to see here. Still, even if it's not radical, I'll say that Tigers Blood gets even closer to the themes that I consider important in my life right now. In this wonderful album, I see some reflections. That makes me feel real good, man. More to say about this one, obviously, in December.

HONORABLE MENTIONS (ASCENDING): Final Summer by Cloud Nothings (takes me an extra minute to parse through a new Cloud Nothings but I'm pretty much there); The Fool by Young Jesus (good Fatter/Older rec); Playing Favorites by Sheer Mag (by the time you read this, me and Martha will have seen them at WXPN Free at Noon, and I'm sure I'll be loving this album even more)

HONORABLE MENTIONS (DESCENDING): Deeper Well by Kacey Musgraves (was pretty high on this one, but Sara and Maeve did a good job at convincing me that the lyrics are some of the dumbest Instagram horoscope shit you'll ever hear); Diamond Jubilee by Cindy Lee (into it generally, but its length and the oppressive thinkpiece cottage industry really do a number on it)