Ed Harcourt is one of those wonderful, undersung musicians I never would have encountered if I hadn't spent some time this year freelancing for the wonderful Paste Magazine. This song crossed my radar early in the year, right when my world was turning upside down. Listening to it felt like shock therapy. The song starts with a burst of raucous guitar feedback, joined by a noisy, primitive drumbeat. Then the song breaks open with a thrilling barrage of piano chords and a sweeping, Radiohead-esque guitar line.

What I like best about the song is how it sounds like it's teetering on the edge of total chaos, barely holding itself together (much like I myself was when I first encountered the song).

“Maybe the best way to deal with your problems is head bang into the storm and confront them," Ed says about this song. I couldn't agree more.


Song the Fifth: "Far Away," Martha Wainwright

Of note in this list of Favorite Songs of 2005 is that Rufus Wainwright [Divinity Disguised as Man, Singing O'er the Beloved Earth] did not release any major albums this year—but I still found a way to continue my worship of him by featuring some of his music-making relatives in my 2005 list.

(None of this affection is manufactured. I love the music he makes, and the music his fantastic family makes.) (I mean, surely there is a steak dinner with Rufus Wainwright somewhere in my future, on account of my very thorough and complete devotion to him. Surely I can win some sort of Rufus Wainwright Stalker Raffle® or something, get something legitimate out of this obsession. Right?)

Anyhow. Back to the list. Martha Wainwright is Rufus' younger sister. They grew up together, I suppose, singing songs at the piano with their musically gifted parents before they were even old enough to reach the cereal box.

I had a defining moment with this song in October, when I was taking the train back home to my tiny apartment after having just moved in. I was emerging from the subway station to the street, listening to my iPod, shuffling through the leaves on the walk back home alone, when this song came on. Martha sings: "I have been digging underground / Whatever remains is yet to be found / I have no children / I have no husband / I have no reason to be alive / oh, give me one..."

The song was filled with such a sense of emptiness and loss and longing. I almost had to stop on the sidewalk to catch my breath.


Song the Fourth: "Tomorrow Night," Patty Griffin

2005 was really the year I finally dove into the work of the distressingly talented singer/songwriter Patty Griffin. For years I'd enjoyed her first album, Living With Ghosts, but I'd lost track of her newer work until this spring, when I got to see her perform here in Atlanta.

She's a tiny person, physically speaking, but the quality of the voice coming from this slip of a woman is tremendous.

"Tomorrow Night," from 1996's 1000 Kisses, quickly became a favorite as soon as I began to explore Patty's discography. The lyrics are what pulled me in first. At the beginning of the song, it's just Patty, singing mournfully along with an acoustic guitar and a stand-up bass: "Tomorrow night, will you remember what you said tonight? Tomorrow night, will all the thrill be gone?..." When I listened to those lyrics, I heard a woman whose lover had just told her everything she wanted to hear. But in this song, she's already worried about what the future holds, worried about her lover leaving her—even while he is lying there in her arms. The song is a beautiful tribute to the fragility of love and the pain of loving more deeply than you realized you could.


Song the Third: "Let's Dance," M. Ward

I hesitate to list "Let's Dance" as the M. Ward song that I liked best: M. Ward has plenty of original songs which I love. But I include "Let's Dance" here because this is my favorite kind of cover: it turns the original upside-down and becomes its own creation, while reminding you why you loved the original song so much in the first place.

I came across M. Ward this spring and was immediately drawn to the quality of his voice: it was breathy and intimate, but it carried a sense of distance and mystery. Remarkably, I listened to this cover three times before I realized it was a cover. Finally, after hearing him sing, "If you should fall into my arms, and tremble like a flower...." I thought: Wait. I've heard that line before!


Song the Second: "The Build-Up," Kings of Convenience

God bless the clients who give you nice projects and share great music with you. I was introduced to Kings of Convenience by a favorite client of mine, who played their music for two weeks straight in the office in January, when I was just getting started freelancing. What I remember from that two-week period is how miserably rainy it was outside, how happy I was to be doing this freelance thing, and the music of Kings of Convenience.

The group is composed of two lads from Norway who sing transparent, delicate little songs reminiscent of another beloved male duo: Simon & Garfunkel.

"The Build-Up" is the song that made it onto just about every mix CD I made in 2005 (one unfortunate friend actually received the song on two different mix CDs, and remarked, "You must really like that song!").

This song is so quiet and spare that it's almost painful at first. It starts with a single male voice, a gentle guitar, and a melody that builds softly. The first man's voice is joined by another, until, apparently out of nowhere, a female voice rises above everything, and the song lifts effortlessly in the air.

I can listen to this song eighteen times in a row before I start to think, "Hey. It probably isn't healthy for me to do this....."

Song the First: "What'll I Do," Kate & Anna McGarrigle

Here we go, with the top, number one, most beloved song of the year. "What'll I Do" is a song that everyone and their mother has covered. This time Rufus covers it with his mother, Kate McGarrigle, and his aunt, Anna McGarrigle. They're joined by a host of friends and relatives for this particularly soulful rendition. It's Rufus' soaring, nasal baritone makes the song happen for me.

This song has a beautiful, haunting melody, but in the hands of this group of musicians, it becomes a powerful hymn to loss. "When I'm alone with only dreams of you that won't come true, what'll I do?..." The harmonies in this song never fail to send chills down my spine.


Honorable mentions for 2005:
"How Come" by Ray LaMontagne
"Flametop Green" by Daniel Lanois
"Jesusland" by Ben Folds
"Missing" by Beck
"I See Your Facee Before Me" by Johnny Hartman
"We Dream an Ocean in Ohio" by Linford Detweiler
"A Lack of Color" by Death Cab for Cutie
"Fisherman's Woman" by Emiliana Torrini
"Your Baby" by Britta Phillips & Dean Wareham