you take the cards that you're dealt

I've already written a post about my love addiction obsession with Dry the River's two albums. But I have to be pretty honest here: I haven't listened to much of anything else in the past six weeks. I mean, I haven't even had much of a desire to listen to anything else since March 7.

Now, look, this isn't really major news. I've binged on a lot of bands in my time. I have an addictive personality. (It's the reason why I don't trust myself to have children; I've loved a lot of bands that I've quickly tired of.) But a lot has been said for binging on television shows, about sitting in your pajamas on your couch for an entire weekend and watching all six seasons of Lost but where are the articles about spending an entire Saturday listening to Shallow Bed? (If there's someone else other than my best friend and I doing that, point me in their direction because clearly we need to become friends.)

Anyway, this isn't about Dry the River, they're just my band of choice right now. (I swear, I cannot start my day without listening to "Weights and Measures" lately. I tried to yesterday but after a few songs, I needed to go back to it. It was almost like an addiction.) It's about the relationship with (other) music I've had over the past six weeks. Tons of great records have been released, and some of them I haven't even bothered to listen to. I've partially listened to a handful, turning them off after four or five songs because I'm bored, or to put on "Shaker Hymns" or "Vessel." I've listened to three new records all the way through (DCFC, Sufjan Stevens, and Lower Dens, and only the latter two have I listened to more than once.) I've basically lost interest in all new music. (I do recall, however, listening to Jeff Buckley a bit...)

When I'm binging on a band or an album, it's really, really difficult to listen to my old music. It's really difficult to not just press play on that one artist and ignore all the others. I mean, it's practically a chore to listen to songs I really do love. And I've forgotten about so many of them too. It's kind of like when you run into someone you know and you really don't want to talk to him or her but you end up chatting and it's awkward. But you forget that you really love "The Woodpile" or "Terrible Love" or "Tables and Chairs" (oh, don't get me started on Andrew Bird.) You kind of even forget these songs exist. I accidentally pressed play on "Acts of Man" when I scrolling for "Alarms in the Heart" and was like, "oh, yeah, this song, right, it's...been awhile, hasn't it?" I listened to it, sure, but it just didn't give me the excitement it used to. How sad is that? I mean, "Acts of Man." Y'all know how much I fucking love that song, and what it means (meant?) to me.

Eventually I'll burn out on DtR, or I'll find a new band to obsess over, and I'll go back to listening to "Old Old Fashioned" and "Cold Day From the Birdhouse" and the like, and I'll probably never want to hear "The Chambers and the Valves" ever again. It's what I do. Binge and purge music. Even if I stop listening to you completely, there's a good chance I will see you when you announce your NYC-area show. In fact, I can't remember the last time I saw a band while I was in the midst of actually listening to them. My latest trend in concert-going is to know and like a few of your songs and decide, hey, why not, let's go see them. I guess going to see a band and then buying their music is not the correct way to do things?

And I know this is not the normal way people listen to music. Of course, I do know that people do tend to listen to songs over and over and over again and play them out and never think about them again. I also know that there are many people out there who don't listen to albums, and don't really have bands or artists they can refer to as their "favorites." And of course, there are even more people who just do not buy any music anymore. But when you listen to so much music, and especially now that so much is available to you at anytime on Spotify or YouTube, it is really so easy to forget about bands and songs. I swear, if I went to look through my vinyl collection, I'd probably be really surprised I own records by Caveman and The Morning Benders. I'd suspect that a lot of people stick to their favorite artists and don't exactly branch out to find new ones. I also suspect a lot of people don't binge on music. Am I wrong here? But I'm pretty certain that most people don't care enough about the songs they used to love to ever go back to them. I mean, for cryin' out loud, taking songs off of my iPod is a huge to-do because who knows when I'll want to listen to "Testament to Youth in Verse?" If I take it off, will I ever remember it existed in the first place? What does it matter? I'll just find a new song/band to listen to anyway.

And maybe that's how I should think about it. So what if I don't want to listen to We Were Promised Jetpacks anymore? Who cares? Does it really matter? Music, I guess, is fluid. You're not always going to want to listen to the same bands or songs. God knows I don't want to listen to Hanson anymore (what, I was like 10 years old!)

But imagine how boring life would be if we just listened to the same songs over and over again.

I have never wanted more to be your man and build a house around you.

Every year, I seem to find my January.

What? You don't know what a January is? Don't you have Januaries of your own?

I didn't initially go out seeking my Januaries and they began back in January 2009 when Noble Beast was released. It wasn't mad love at first listen but something about it was so compelling, and it made me want to keep listening to it, over and over again. Then came Armchair Apocrypha, and the rest, as they say, was history. I don't think I need to explain to ANYONE how much I like Andrew Bird.

In January 2010, I started listening to The National. Unlike Bird, I had never even heard of The National before I heard "Fake Empire" for the first time. Again, it wasn't love at first listen but I waited for the click and finally, I fell in love. I ended up buying a bunch of their records and saw them twice that year. I developed a bit of an obsession that has since subsided but 2010 was all about The National.

And then, of course, Destroyer's Kaputt was released. My favorite record of 2011. Destroyer was my favorite artist of 2011 (erm, well, until I discovered Feist in October). I never liked Dan Bejar before that record, I mean, I really could not stand his damn voice but after Kaputt, I became obsessive, consuming all of his music. And I mean, could you blame me? He is a bit of a genius, right? (I guess the obsession hasn't really subsided. Oops.) Nobody was better than Destroyer for me in 2011.

(2012 really didn't have a January because the first quarter of that year was devoted to Andrew Bird. It's hilarious when I think about how much new music I discovered during the second half of last year when I had basically played out Break It Yourself.)

And now, what about 2013?

Well, everyone, I've developed a big Frightened Rabbit problem.

I've actually been a casual Frightened Rabbit fan for about two and a half years now (I've even seen them live) so they're not exactly a new discovery. I've always been in their corner, I've always rooted for them. But I've always sort of described them as Snow Patrol with better lyrics (I'll have you know I really like Snow Patrol). They're a good band but nothing special.

Or so I thought.

They've just released a new record Pedestrian Verse and thanks to the glowing review on AV Club, I decided to check it out. (Truth be told, I would've checked it out anyway.) And I need to let you know that it is fantastic. Really, really fantastic. Like...that's all I've listened to for about a week. And the only other things I've listened to other than Pedestrian Verse are The Midnight Organ Fight and The Winter of Mixed Drinks. Frightened Rabbit's music has this quality that sneaks up on you; you listen to it and it doesn't sound special at all (I likened them to Snow Patrol meets Bell x1) but then you find yourself really paying attention to the lyrics and you say, "goddamn." Because Scott Hutchison's lyrics are fantastic. I find myself catching a line and having to replay the whole song because I need to hear the entire verse over again.

Look, I really like my music to either have a theatrical quality to it or to be spacey electronic shit, and I have in the past just said, "I'm over the whole bass-drums-guitar thing" (aka 99% of bands but I'm a pretentious jerk sometimes) but sometimes music doesn't have to be elaborate. It doesn't have to difficult or esoteric or a "grower" (oh, but I love esoteric "growers," I do). It can just be good. And that's all Frightened Rabbit are. They are good. They make good music and they are a good live band and they have been making my ears so damn happy. I want everyone to listen to them so in a year, they can win Grammys and sell out the Barclays and I'll say, "Well, remember that time I won tickets to see them like three hours before the show? Ah, memories." And I'll be happy for them. With reservations.

I suppose if it comes to that, they'll stop writing lyrics like "it takes more than fucking someone to keep warm." And that would be a tragedy. Okay, everyone can listen to them but be very secretive about it. Start a Frightened Rabbit Fight Club.