something here does not belong

People who know me well know that music is a good bet for gifts.

[caption id=”attachment_4115219839" align=”aligncenter” width=”490" caption=”brought home and collected under my tree”]

[/caption]

This year brought some wonderful music-related gifts from various people.

• Rilo Kiley — The Execution of All Things on vinyl
• Dawes — Nothing Is Wrong on CD (remember those things?)
• Ryan Adams — Ashes & Fire on CD
• The Jayhawks — Mockingbird Time on CD
• George Harrison — All Things Must Pass on vinyl

You might also notice a rogue Tyra Banks photo-bombing the shot. That’s a homemade mix CD of all of the “songs” created by contestants on the most recent season cycle of America’s Next Top Model, with a special bonus track of “Shake Ya Body” by none other than Ty Ty herself. A cherished present in its own way.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, let’s pause and appreciate the beauty of this George Harrison album. The songs themselves need no description. But the item itself: It’s the original 1970 pressing. Six sides, bonus poster, pristine condition. And essential for anyone who wants to claim ownership of any sort of meaningful vinyl collection.

As I told a friend via text, “I was excited as soon as I saw the shape of the package, but this was beyond expectations.” (Yes. That’s what she said.)

At some point this year, The Execution of All Things went from a pretty well-liked album to possibly one of my favorites of all time. All of a sudden, it Captured How I Felt And Made Me Feel Something, much like Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs did this year. Stereotypical twentysomething much? Listening on my good Sennheiser headphones rather than in the car or at a noisy office probably also helped — all kinds of musical layers jumped out.

As for the CDs, I’ve been busy devouring the liner notes. Remember the nerdy enjoyment of learning which guests played instrumental parts of what tracks, seeing who mastered the album (Bob Ludwig does everyone’s), finding out if you recognize any names in the thank-yous, and learning lyrics? I’d almost forgotten about it.

If I’d continued listening to these three albums just on Spotify, I might have eventually been curious enough to look up the organist. (Mmmm organ.) But I also might have never known that it was none other than the legendary Benmont Tench playing on both the Dawes album and the Ryan Adams album. Or that it was Ben Peeler, a familiar name from his work with the Wallflowers — among many others, obviously — playing lap steel on the Dawes album (Mmmm lap steel.)

Turns out there is a site for these types of things: albumcredits.com. But somehow that’s not as much fun as flipping through liner notes.

Spoiler alert: These three CDs will be making appearances of some sort in the year-end recap.