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… and I’m in Los Angeles. I hope to resume regular weekly updates of Assholes #2. Also, check back soon for picture of my adventures out west and more!

This marks my final Column. I’ve still got a few stories in the pipeline but tomorrow will be my last day at the News & Messenger. 

My adventures with the News & Messenger began three years ago this month during the New York Transit Authority strike.

You may remember the strike because it made national news. Mayor Michael Bloomberg made a symbolic early morning walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, showing solidarity with his constituents. Read the rest of this entry »

Oh, c’mon… no serious 2008 end-of-the-year music article would be complete without some Rickrolling. You know what I’m talking about — that Internet fad where you click a link expecting to find that long-rumored Michelle Obama “I hate whitey” video or some other unbelievable clip — and instead get Rick Astley’s 1987 hit “Never Gonna Give You Up.” Jon Stewart, Carson Daly, even the New York Mets were all Rickrolled in 2008. Astley even showed up to Rickroll the Macy’s Day Parade last month.

That’s it. There’s no better choice for “Song of the Year” than “Never Gonna Give You Up.”

So let’s move on to the songs that actually came out this year and make a playlist. As I’ve done the past two years, I’ve compiled a mix of 15 of my favorite songs from the year. These are arranged in an unranked mix-tape order for your maximum listening pleasure.

Yeah, there are three piano ballads on this playlist, and a severe lack of hip-hop (Lil’ Wayne? Robo-Kanye? Pass.) but hey, it’s my list. What’s on yours?

John Darnielle does his damndest to place the listener smack in the middle of a Sax Rohmer — you know, the dude who created “Fu Manchu” — pulp novel. Chinese spies, fog-filled harbors, capsized ships, it’s all there. The song builds on a simple acoustic melody, hinting at greater things to come (really, what better way to kick off any playlist?). The pay off is Darnielle’s furious hook, really about the protagonist getting home to a loved one, “if it’s the last thing that I do.”

Remember when Bruce Springsteen kicked off “Thunder Road” — easily my favorite Boss track — with a girl named Mary dancing to the radio? “Great Expectations” may as well be the punk rock sequel, opening with lead singer Brian Fallon complaining “Mary the station is playing every sad song.” “Great Expectations” might not have “Thunder Road’s” lyrical scope, but it’s nearly as powerful. Besides, that’s what’s so wonderful about Jersey-based The Gaslight Anthem. They’re not afraid to wear their influences as tattoo sleeves, from Bruce to Tom Petty and the best of Garden State punk.

The title’s a reference to the 1985 all-night Martin Scorsese flick; this song was featured in this year’s indie-rock version of said movie, “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist.” I didn’t bother to see “Nick and Norah.” This song tells me everything I need to know: it’s an all night adventure of living in the moment. The rounds keep coming, “time means nothing” and the possibility (probability?) of love is in the air.

Am I even allowed to like this song? Because I do and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I could write that I’m including this because I fell over laughing at the homoerotic Justin Timberlake/Paul Rudd send-up of this track on Saturday Night Live. But that’s only partially true — I liked this song before that, and I’m not even an R&B fan. The beat’s infectious, the hook’s solid and Beyoncé (or are we supposed to call her Sasha Fierce now?) sounds great.

Peel away all of the hype and Vampire Weekend’s eponymous debut sounds like a bunch of Ivy League grads trying to impress their sociology professor. That’s not to begrudge this former-Columbia University quartet — their album is a solid first effort with a couple moments of brilliance, including this number. “A Punk” is a detached break up song, a short a blast of Afro-pop, clocking in at just over two minutes. Hit repeat — go back and catch all the textured instruments and lyrics you missed the first time around.

Craig Finn’s a storyteller, not a singer. Factor in a group of accomplished, riff-happy musicians, The Hold Steady have been called “the best band in America.” “Sequestered in Memphis” follows a guy on trial after a barroom bathroom tryst. This isn’t a paint-by-numbers John Grisham tale. Finn peppers the story with dialog (”She said ‘I know I look tired/but everything’s fried here in Memphis”) and observation (”In bar light she looked all right/In daylight she looked desperate/that’s all right I looked desperate too”), all building toward an arena-ready, sing-along chorus. Seriously.