I’m taking the Ben approach to my post this week and doing a recap of some under­rated hits from “the past”: up first, my most recent times, ’09. Since I have to show some dis­cre­tion, a bunch of good tunes got cut here – I really can’t jus­tify putting any­thing from Explorers or Second Family Band (unless you wanna listen in for another 92 min­utes), and though I love Forget the Night Ahead, putting the Twi­light Sad on any mix is kinda like pooping in the spe­cial water at com­mu­nion. This may not work as the most rep­re­sen­ta­tive 2009 mix out there today, but I hope it encour­ages readers to seek out these albums.

01. Crypta­cize — “My Tho­mania“
from Mytho­mania (Asth­matic Kitty, 2009)

They’ve got Nedelle and what’s-his-face from Deer­hoof. And tracks like “Blue Tears” and “” are just too much fun to leave for the last decade. “My Tho­mania,” which can (but prob­ably shouldn’t) be treated as the title track for the album, con­tributes to a ver­i­table potluck of –manias going on in 09, “Lisz­to­mania” being a prin­cipal one, but also the lesser-known and rarely-acknowledged “Tulipo­mania” that I found at a used book store this past weekend being also impor­tant. Just listen for the chorus. [Buy]

02. The Post­marks — “My Lucky Charm“
from Mem­oirs at the End of the World (Unfil­tered Records, 2009)

Remember how I said I didn’t like Acid House Kings? Well, I think I cracked a bit on that posi­tion after my friend Eric D. put Mem­oirs on a few weeks ago. Like the Kings, the Post­marks craft pop like it’s some­thing you sneeze out occa­sion­ally. Oh look, another perfect-pop booger. It’s like that. If this song doesn’t make your tears pink then something’s not working right. [Buy]

03. Cotton Jones — “Gone the Bells“
from Para­noid Cocoon (Sui­cide Squeeze, 2009)

It’s the guy from Page France being all mopey, but it works. Even the most des­o­late tracks like “Gone the Bells” have a shimmer and bounce about them, that the entire album comes off bright-headed from a slow-burned haze. Appar­ently, the full band title is/was “The Cotton Jones Basket Ride,” which I’m starting to think describes a trav­elin’ sen­sa­tion buried some­where on this record. [Buy]

04. Nurses — “Lita“
from Apple’s Acre (Dead Oceans, 2009)

Sim­plicity is strategy on Apple’s Acre. The entire record is built on vocal har­monies and light per­cus­sion. In many ways, it feels like Two Dancers turned inside-out: the same morbid curiosi­ties occupy Nurses, and the insis­tent pull of rhythm and melody is at once haunting and mes­mer­izing. “Lita” is my favorite track, and it’ll be yours too soon enough. [Buy]

05. Hayden — “Let’s Break Up“
from The Place Where We Lived (Hard­wood Records, 2009)

There’s no bad Hayden album, and there’s no bad Hayden song. I think Hayden fans have come to expect this from him year after year, which is why The Place Where We Live is some­what dis­ap­pointing. So I guess I’ve included “Let’s Break Up” on that prin­ciple alone: it’s yet another charming Hayden nar­ra­tive about coin­ci­dence, failure, and self-deprecation. Even though you could call all that a big whiney com­plaint, thing is, I wouldn’t want it any other way. [Buy]

06. The Love Lan­guage — “Sparxxx“
from Self-Titled (Merge, 2009)

Not to be con­fused with that band I mix’d about back in Feb., The Love Lan­guage is a fron­tispiece for Stuart McLamb’s four-track record­ings. Here McLamb’s booming, the­atrical affec­ta­tion butts heads with micro­man­aged orches­tra­tion and that washed-out (fre­quently clip­ping) ten­dency of the high peaks on record. Overall this is a fun listen, and if you’re inter­ested check out “Lalita,” “Noc­turne” and “Night­dogs” as well. [Buy]

07. Hanne Hukkel­berg — “Bandy Rid­dles“
from Blood from a Stone (Net­twerk, 2009)

I don’t get this song, but I like it. I think she’s Nor­we­gian or some­thing, and her other albums are sup­posed to be insta-hit mate­rial, so check those out after you listen to “Bandy Rid­dles.” Also, this album takes the album cake for coolest album cover on the mix, with runner-up being them dogs in Dog Day, fea­tured in the stuff that fol­lows this stuff. [Buy]

08. Dog Day — “Rome“
from Con­cen­tra­tion (Out­side Music, 2009)

“Dr. Dog Dies in Hot Car” – head­line, or another ter­rible band name involving dogs? Hah! Alright anyway I like Dog Day, in part because they seem cool as fuck all, but also because they sound like they seem. Con­cen­tra­tion got little to no press last year, even though it’s jammed to the gills with great tracks like the stoned “Judg­ment Day” and per­iled tale “Neighbor” (sounding a bit like Beauty Pill here in that exchange of vocal duties and eerie emphasis on house par­ties with demons). Another band with that uncanny ability to sound like every other band that sounds like New Order and still find some­thing to do dif­ferent. As they say over at AMG, highly rec­om­mended. [Buy]

09. The Wooden Birds — “Seven Sev­en­teen“
from Mag­nolia (Barsuk, 2009)

Make no mis­take, this is the latest Amer­ican Analog Set record. On “Seven Sev­en­teen,” Andrew’s hushed voice is still smooth as glass, and the palm-muted, strummed per­cus­sion sets the pace to heart­beat. Just cue Leslie on backing vocals and bring in some thick tremolo. Beau­tiful song, beau­tiful album; expect nothing less from these folk. [Buy]

10. Jonathan Johansson — “Säg Vad Ni Vill“
from En Hand I Himlen (Hybris Records, 2009)

Jonathan Johansson, for lack of a better intro­duc­tion, is from another world. His music is thor­oughly engaging, often spir­ited and tri­umphant, and lyri­cally incom­pre­hen­sible to most of his admiring audi­ence. He’s def­i­nitely not an alien, but his music man­ages to sound oth­er­worldly while rooting that unfa­mil­iarity of lan­guage in a familiar cul­tural nos­talgia; Jonathan’s point-by-point reduc­tion of 1980s electro-pop titans into his own earnest com­po­si­tions res­onates with the sounds of the era while somehow tran­scending the period alto­gether. I love this record from start to finish; it feels like I’ve known every melody on it for quite some time, and I plan to enjoy them for years to come. [Buy]

Get a good mix here: [Multi­u­pload]

I’m done for today’s post, but I’ll be back some­time next week. I’d like to return to 2008 in April with another mix. See you in that time and place.