Nah, I'm OK With Growing Old, Part 2

A.C. Newman deserves large amounts of credit for his newest album, "Shut Down the Streets." He turns flutes, banjos and clarinets into pop; all manners of keyboards into hooks; and that scariest of topics -- growing old -- into a deeply satisfying rock album. Gone are the madcap whimsy of "The Slow Descent into Alcoholism" and the inscrutability of "The Laws Have Changed," two of Newman's more popular, early songs for the New Pornographers. Instead, his new album covers birth, death, deception, marriage, love, and the resigned feeling that art is hard and not all it's made out to be. In the opening song, he declares it's time to "abandon the search for an author of small works." It sounds a bit like a Roberto Bolano novel, with its mythical pursuits of cult writers, but also a bit like Newman describing himself, an author of small pop gems that have been adored for 10 years but never by all that many people. The arrangements here are really expert, layering and removing instruments with great instinct to create rich compositions. For all these reasons, "Shut Down the Streets" is easily my favorite record of 2012. Above is a video of Newman and his band performing two songs from the album. The first, "I'm Not Talking," is the album opener and just a fantastic song.

Here are a few other records I enjoyed last year:

* Hospitality - "s/t": The bouncy songs are good, but the slower ones that take longer to reveal themselves are even better. When Amber Papini, the leader, sings a wordless vocal line over a brooding bass part at the end of "Julie," it feels momentous. This album was too overlooked. Still disappointed with myself for passing on their show at Great Scott last week.

* The Tallest Man on Earth - "There's No Leaving Now": I'm in the minority choosing this one over its predecessor, but I like the how the keyboards add a softer edge and bit more complexity.

* Beachwood Sparks - "The Tarnished Gold": It's not a surprise that the best songs are about realizing that the best things are what you had right in front of you all along. Even if I recently realized for the first time that they shamelessly mimic the Byrds, the album comes from a place of sincerity that not many bands choose to mine anymore.

And a few other smaller pieces I liked:

* KEXP's radio sessions: The catalogue is impressively large and has become a great way to discover new bands. Their collection makes me thankful that YouTube exists.

* The first song on DIIV's album: Everyone compares them to the Smiths and Nirvana -- and the songwriter says one inspiration is Malian guitars -- but that first song sounds like vintage Yo La Tengo in all the right ways.

* Video parodies of "Call Me Maybe": They're always funny, whether crudely or carefully produced, especially this one by the Big Ten's mascots. And the hook isn't bad, either.