These guys are seriously the greatest, most generous act in indie rock and I can’t help but think people still take them for granted, because, well, they do.

(I’d be remiss if I didn’t link over to Jesse Jarnow’s online home, Frank & Earthy, for full setlists from these shows.)

I’d love to see them add a bookmark feature so I could catalog titles I find as I surf around the web. Think Instapaper, but for music.

Sad to say, I don’t miss it. Yes, it was often fun to shout words of encouragement from the critical sidelines as real critics battled for primacy in online forums of all  kinds, but I had no real stake in it. I didn’t feel that participation was vital to my life in any way. It just seemed silly that adults were making these impassioned, intelligent arguments about artists whose impact was felt by a dwindling number of listeners. How guys like Tom Ewing find the time and energy to write such thoughtful pieces as this recent Poptimist column while balancing work and a young family amazes me. By the way, that piece I linked sums up my feelings on this phenomenon — Tom calls it “nanoculture” — far more eloquently that I can muster. But the sense of world-weariness that I felt when commiserating via chat with Maura and Chris was more than I could bear. There was no sense in pretending that I cared at all about the subject. It was simply time to go.

What did I actually listen to this year? Old stuff and lots of it. I now unashamedly listen to music that I’ve loved for a decade or more. It’s nice to return to old favorites. I’m loving what some of my old favorites are releasing now, too, another sign that the game has passed me by. When you find yourself enraptured with a new J. Mascis album in 2011, chances are you’re too hopelessly nostalgic to be relevant to any audience outside the Magnet Magazine set and that’s someone I never want to be. Befriending Mark made it clear that I simply didn’t have the stamina or endurance to be a critic in the age of Tumblr.

But you know what? The flipside of this is that “discovery,” a term that made me retch as a critic, is something I truly can enjoy now. When you’re not being bombarded by emails offering interviews and tickets to artists you’ve never heard of, it’s much easier to filter out all that noise and just enjoy reading about artists, sampling their music and making choices about what you want to hear. When the pressure of trying to hear everything melts away it’s nice to be selective and really immerse yourself in a recording. It breathes new life into the year end lists I’ve spent the better part of a decade ignoring. I find myself wanting to read about music again in a way I haven’t since blurbs in the margins of Newsweek first caught my attention 15 years ago. It’s exciting!

So tell me what I should check out in 2011? Did I miss anything? Still haven’t listened to that Odd Future record…

I know people have cooled on their steely grooves, but I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through 2002-2007 without steady doses of Spoon. Two songs in particular that galvanized my will when it was bent near the breaking point: “That’s the Way We Get By” and “The Underdog.”

Can’t listen to either of these tunes without being transported back in time. The former reminds me of a sweaty summer spent in Brooklyn, punching F5 on craigslist or interviewing for jobs for which I was but one of hundreds of applicants. I’d turn this all the way up as I sat on my futon, scraping by on adjunct lecturer’s wages and whatever was left on my student loans. The latter takes me to a better place: finally back on the job after nearly a year out of work. It was their brand new album at the time and I had a hard time believing that “The Underdog” wasn’t my personal anthem that summer.

A few years on and I keep finding myself coming back to these records. I can’t think of a band whose body of work has more closely fit my moods over more than a decade of fandom.

Stopped over at Sharkey’s place last night (welcome to the ‘hood, guy!) to pick up his new album under the Puerto Rico Flowers moniker, “7.” This is just what I needed right now. And I know lots of people play the Joy Division card here, but I think Marc Masters nailed it with the Depeche Mode nod. And I can’t be the only one who thinks this could go very PiL if the mood struck, right?

Also, can I just say how hard it is for me to get out of the house now that I’m a dad? Hats off to Sharkey and his family for knocking out actual art while raising a beautiful baby boy. Congrats!

Oh, how about a Neil Young cover for good measure. God, this is just such an amazing tune to cover.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Special thanks to Brian McTear and Weathervane Music for a lovely evening of great music, food and friends at Miner St. Studios, right around the corner in Fishtown. Port St. Willow’s music was perfect in that intimate setting. What a great way to start the Private Concert Series!

This is an amazing project that deserves more (and your) attention. See what Weathervane Music is up to here!

We had this series at Stylus Magazine called “On Second Thought” and I’m poring over the archives tonight. Wish I could rightly say how many bands I dismissed simply because Pitchfork hyped them to the moon. Have you really ever listened to that band called Black Kids? You have?! Wild…

When that column wasn’t dedicated to some madness, like elevating some second rate album to cult status, it was really good. Right now I’m drawing inspiration from that spirit of re-discovery and listening to Ted Leo with fresh ears. I only ever saw him play once and that was at teensy tiny Brownies on the LES. It was so loud I couldn’t properly hear for a good three days. Went with friends who were wild for him. I wasn’t feeling it. Bought Tyranny of Distance, listened to it a few times and felt like it was too poppy.

It’s funny how willing you are to listen to stuff like Wolf Eyes and Burzum before you have a kid who’s bouncing off the walls and your attention span flies out the window. Now I crave thoughtful pop like never before. Ted Leo’s suddenly right in my wheelhouse. Doesn’t hurt that the guy is one of the most good-natured indie rock guys out there, having fun with his brand of celebrity in videos like the one he did for “Bottled in Cork” above.

Loving this album. Feel like J. Mascis’ voice has always captured that spirit of not really trying, which was the apotheosis of all things good in the ’90s. Along those lines, I’m catching up with Wild Flag, too. ’90s nostalgia really has transformed into something else entirely, hasn’t it?

Really like the new Mountain Goats, too. You can listen to that one here. What’s become of me?

An aside: I blame “Portlandia” and Comedy Death Ray for my newfound appreciation of Aimee Mann. Helen was way ahead of me on this one. The latter show is also responsible for my renewed appreciation of Ted Leo, even though the “Brutalist Bricks” was quietly one of my favorite records last year.

Kurt Vile and Cold Cave are early winners, too.

Feel like this is as good a time as any to mention that the ex.fm Chrome extension finally has me listening to music tumblrs. Maybe that whole “blog j” thing Gerd Leonhard mentioned ages ago wasn’t as silly as I thought.

(Confidential to Mr. Cosloy: please don’t let this series die. I will be so sad.)

Proof that Philly’s still weird: I met Phillies’ set-up man Ryan Madson at the Troc’s downstairs bar at Yo La Tengo last Thursday night.

He was floored by the band, calling it “pure music,” asking if they were on iTunes and was just an all-around sweet guy. He also shared that his dad played in a band like that in the ’70s. (Ryan, if you ever find this post, can we talk about your dad’s band?)

Me? I played it cool. You see, Ryan Madson is one of just two Phillies that I have a rehearsed story about their career. My Madson moment? 7 relief innings against the Mets. He gave up a homer to Beltran in the 13th, but I told him that he really showed something there. Gutting it out as a struggling young pitcher ain’t easy anywhere, let alone Philly, but he did it. Can’t wait until he’s our closer in 2012.

Yo La Tengo? Predictably great, although the cruel wheel (pictured above) fell on Sounds of Science, Part 2. Ouch. Definitely a “for fans only” set that was a slow burn. They finished with a dazzling second set that blew Ryan Madson’s mind. “Doesn’t it sound like 6 people are on stage?”