My Favorite Songs of 2013

My favorite five songs this year.

1. "Don't Give Up," Washed Out, Paracosm, 2013. Even though that we're far apart, we've come so close. Spring rolling over to summer. The shimmers of a July afternoon without all the heat.




 2. "With You," Flight Facilities, With You 2012. And now a kiss. Well, he planted that one on me and, granted, it has thrown me and it's futile to resist. Hot, sticky nights.




3. "Stand Still," Flight Facilities, Stand Still, 2013. Back into your arms like there's no lost time, back in your mouth like a love crime. If you don't know how I could fall for a dance-oriented love song with a melody led by whistling, I don't think we've met.




4. "Velour," Darius, Velour, 2012. When I first discover a new song that I love, one of my favorite things is to fall asleep with it running through my mind, broken and imperfect, because I haven't yet memorized its intricacies. The melody informs my dreams. That happened more strongly with this song than any other. The quiet break that starts around 2:19 and builds back toward the beat sounds to me exactly like those moments when you're half-awake and half-asleep and your untethered brain grasps feverishly on all your stray thoughts, so nothing and everything seem real simultaneously.




5. "Shyness," Thieves Like Us, Again and Again, 2010. Shyness, let it go. Never have to be so lonely. Like falling in love. The bridge was my ringtone for the last half of the year and I could hardly bring myself to change it, because it's so damn cute that it makes me happy every time my phone rings.


And chronologically for me as the year passed:

6. "Lowride," Autechre, Incunabula, 1993. I feel more than a little nostalgia, listening to the '93-fantastic bass backing this song. It reminds me of experimental music that my sister and (strangely) my dad listened to all that summer. It also reminds me of a January day so mild, I drove four hours in a tank top with my windows down. Those are the kind of days that get you through the winter.




7. "Don't Wait," Bonobo, The North Borders, 2013. In March, a cold front followed me home from a trip to Texas. For the next week, every moment bundled up in my sun-warmed car was spent listening to this on repeat. Even now, hearing to it brings to mind the way it feels to draw in a deep breath of air so cold, it makes your lungs ache.




8. "Melody Day (Four Tet Remix)," Caribou, Melody Day, 2007. What we had has come undone and when you smile, it melts away again. A mild winter afternoon fading slowly into a long night.




9. "Wirrok," Dirty Elegance, Finding Beauty in the Wretched, 2007. The earthy smell of springtime.




10. "Aruarian Dance," Nujabes & Fat Jon, Samurai Champloo Music Record: Departure, 2004. A romantic spring evening.




11. "And I Say," Nicolas Jaar, And I Say, 2012. With just one glance, you tear my skirt. Late nights up talking into the early morning hours. The 7 AMs that come so early.




12. "One Word Extinguisher," Prefuse 73, One Word Extinguisher, 2003. A summer night's drive under city lights, headed for the river, where anything could happen. And does.




13. "Kaleidoscope Love," AlunaGeorge, Body Music, 2013. You and me, making chemical equations, deadly combinations, dangerous sitautions. The haze of being in love.




14. "Crave You," Flight Facilities, Crave You, 2010. That boys got my heart in a silver cage. The midst of a summer heatwave.




15. "The Sea," Morcheeba, Big Calm, 1998. I left my soul there, down by the sea. I lost control here, living free. A dull, gray ocean, an empty coastline. Summer disappearing.




16. "Hurricane," Ms Mr, Candy Bar Creep Show, 2012. Didn't know what this would be, but I knew I didn't see what you thought you saw in me. Autumn days. Early sunsets, toes numb inside your shoes. I love the pop culture frenzy that is the music video. I spotted at least five clips from "Daria" in there.




17. "New Seeds," Boards of Canada, Tomorrow's Harvest, 2013. That year starting on its downward arc, signalled by the first morning you walk outside to a hint of chill in the air.




18. "Will Do," TV on the Radio, Nine Types of Light, 2011. No choice of words will break me from this. A swirl of falling leaves.




19. "Polish Girl," Neon Indian, Era Extraña, 2011. Your face still distorts the time. This song has been haunting me all year, syncing itself into lots of memorable moments. It toes the line between infectious and too sweet and I wholeheartedly embrace that.




20. "Paris (Aeroplane Remix Edit)," Friendly Fires, Paris, 2008. We're gonna live it up, I promise. Just hold on a little more. The end of the year. Reflecting on all that passed and all that might.

Zumba for Beginners

In case you've never been to a Zumba class before, here's what to expect your first time around:

It's like you're in a chorus line and you're wearing a gas mask.

But then you realize you're the only one wearing the gas mask.

And you're doing the moves backward from every, single other person in the room.

Keep that up for an hour!

I have never felt as graceless as I did around 6:30 Friday evening. Maybe. I don't know. It makes my Top Five Most Hopelessly Clumsy Moments, at least...along with that time I spilled two giant blueberry smoothies right outside the smoothie shop's door...or once at a funeral when...well, nevermind this Top Five stuff, it's embarrassing, let's stop talking about this list, guys, why did you bring up the list?

There was something about it reminiscent of a little kid imitating an adult. Like, imagine a five-year-old girl in a grownup's dress, giant high heels, and a huge, floppy hat, watching her mother put on makeup and mimicking her motions by pretending to smear crayon on her eyelids. That's how I felt. Maybe next time I should just get some exercise clothes and leave the 64-pack of Crayolas at home. They didn't come in as handy as I expected.

It seems I have even less rhythm than I had previously thought, which is interesting, because that means I actually have rhythm in negative quantities. I should be studied by scientists. They'd put me in a room of two-way mirrors, turn on "Groove Is in the Heart," and observe as I did that self-conscious bob that gawky teens do at indie shows. I'd just stand there looking around and blinking a lot when "The Time Warp" started (and the instructions for the dance are IN THE SONG). By the time they got to "Vogue," I'd just find a place to sit down and start playing with my phone.

The main problem may have been that I was so focused on figuring out the right moves that I kept getting mixed up and would find myself just standing there, laughing and shaking my head, waiting for a recognizable place to jump in. I know that's not the point, but I had to keep reminding myself that. Also, I didn't know any of the songs and couldn't anticipate what was going to happen next. Also also, I am physically incapable of performing dance steps that involve the pelvic thrust, in a room full of other people or alone.

On the plus side, the hour flew by, my fears of getting dizzy or throwing up went unrealized, and the friend who brought me was nice and encouraging and didn't point out once that I dance like a Velociraptor probably would. And I was in better shape than I thought! At least, that's how I felt until I woke up from a six-hour nap. I was so tired that I hadn't even manage to eat dinner before passing out.

But no matter. It was fun. I'd go again!