
Kicking off the new year with a new Long Way Home tune. We’ve been chipping away at this one for a while, so it feels good finally have it out there. Produced and mixed by me.
I make music and occasionally write things.

Kicking off the new year with a new Long Way Home tune. We’ve been chipping away at this one for a while, so it feels good finally have it out there. Produced and mixed by me.

The first ten-year anniversary I remember caring about was Jimmy Eat World’s Clarity, in 2009. The album came out when I was seven, but by the time I was seventeen, it had attained legendary status to a burgeoning emo obsessive. I remember playing the CD on the bus, my disappointment when I couldn’t go to Chicago for the anniversary tour, and my jealousy when a friend texted me from the show.
Anniversary tours have become kind of passé since then, often feeling less like a celebration than an easy cash-in (not that I begrudge anyone who can make a buck playing music), but I still tend to have a good time with them. This year, though, the anniversaries felt different. It’s not my teenage years I’m looking back on now, but times when I was already fully an adult, working and living in Chicago. That made the memories of No Closer To Heaven and Tell Me I’m Alright and The Force Awakens feel both closer and further away somehow.
These anniversaries also all came amid a very full 2025.
Lily was born in February, so Liesi and I spent the early part of the year navigating having two kids under two and everything else that comes with a new baby. I was very worried about being overwhelmed, but between Lily definitely being the easier of our two babies and having done it all once before, it ended being less challenging and more fun than I could have hoped. (Until we all got sick the week before Christmas — that was very challenging and not fun).
I also kept busy with creative projects, even though the list below isn’t long. Matt and I have been doing Noise Floor for well over a year now, and recording is still something I look forward to every week. All of my bands were writing and working on other cool ideas too, so lots more to come on both the music and podcast fronts in 2026.
My year on Last.fm
I really do try to listen widely, but if you’ve followed these lists for a few (or, oh god, 17) years, there are a lot of familiar names at the top. Among the 130-ish new albums I checked out this year, I was most drawn to the new entries in the careers of artists I’ve long loved. This isn’t just falling back on old favorites, I don’t think — many of these artists have released duds over the years and found their way back by making something fresh and vital. I’m especially interested in how these artists that I’ve grown up with confront aging in their music. I rang in my 34th year with a Motion City Soundtrack song that wrestles with “[putting] on the nostalgia crown” and the lingering feeling that your best days are behind you. Happy birthday, right?
But nearly every album I loved this year has something to do with growing older. La Dispute decamped to Australia to explore the rediscover the sonic and poetic intensity of their early albums, the band playing like their younger selves while Jordan Dreyer’s lyrics question how much control we actually have over our lives. Yellowcard wrote about the joy and anxiety of becoming a parent, while Suzzallo worked through the unfathomable grief of losing a child. There are reunions, like the first Spitalfield and Moving Mountains music in over a decade and the Crutchfield sisters teaming up again in Snocaps, and there are solo efforts released in novel formats: Hayley Williams’s Ego Death At a Bachelorette Party showed up online one summer day, free of expectations, with no tracklist, on a Windows 98-style website. It was both a weaponization and confrontation of nostalgia, and the songs are so good.
I did discover some new bands I loved this year. Beauty School pulled me in with a Dan Campbell feature, and I spun that album a ton. G Flip’s “I Don’t Wanna Regret It” had me rolling down the minivan windows for months. The Armed hollowed out my skull with some of the most exciting, chaotic music I’ve heard in a long time.
I found so much to love in music this year. I’ll go into more detail on the next episode of Noise Floor, but for now, here are the lists. Give something a spin.
My Favorite Albums of 2025
My Favorite EPs of 2025
My Big Show Spreadsheet
I attended or played 24 shows this year. I’m cheating a bit on this list, admittedly, because I had too many great experiences to pick just five sets. I got to see the Wonder Years twice, send Foxing off (for now), and scream “Brutal” with a zillion teenagers, among so much more. This year’s Riot Fest was my favorite yet, whether I was seeing Rilo Kiley and Texas Is the Reason for the first time, coming out of mosh retirement for Knuckle Puck, or just hanging with all the friends I’ve made through shows over the years.
And then there’s Adjy.
I had been trying to see Adjy since before the pandemic, but the timing of their tours never worked out until this summer. I ventured out well past my bedtime to see them in the tiny back room of Cole’s Bar, on a stage that could barely contain their six members and at least as many keyboards and mallet percussion instruments. It was transcendent. There are so few bands in the world that transport me the way Adjy does, taking me back to all the places I’ve fallen in love with music since I was a kid, from the Coffeehouse to the dusty fields of Cornerstone Festival to the massive arenas that Adjy deserves to headline (and even those couldn’t hold the grandeur of The Idyll Opus). Maybe I’m overselling this band, but maybe not. When I saw them a second time in October, it was with a bunch of friends who can all now vouch that they are actually that good.
My year on Letterboxd
I saw, as of this writing, 26 new releases this year. The usual caveats: Too much comes out at the end of the year to keep up, and I’ll try to see all the big stuff by the Oscars. But will anything top Sinners and Weapons for me? Seems unlikely. Worth noting that I saw three of my top five in theaters, something I want to get back in the habit of doing as the kids get older.
I stopped paying for Trakt VIP when they doubled their prices, so I don’t get the fancy recap page, but that won’t stop me from making a list. I once again tried to keep my TV intake to returning favorites and only start new shows that seem particularly interesting or critically lauded (both true of Pluribus and Adolescence). Season 2 of Andor was a runaway favorite for so many reasons, but primarily because it’s proof that there are still relevant stories to tell in my favorite sci-fi and fantasy worlds.
My year on Overcast
Blank Check dominant, no surprise there. It’s still my favorite podcast after three years of listening.
I really do listen to every episode of my own podcast — if I start getting bored of it then I assume everyone else will too.
Also, I’ll shout out my favorite new podcast of the year, In the Key of Brie, a delightful and insightful interview show that has introduced me to a ton of great music.
My year on Goodreads
I read 31 books this year, a lot of which was catching up on Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere. In a surprising turn, my two favorite reads of 2025 were new releases.
Mark Z. Danielewski has been my favorite author since I read House of Leaves at the tail end of high school. Tom’s Crossing has very little in the way of the ergodic structure or crazy formatting that Danielewski is known for, but it’s still some of his best writing, with an immersive setting and a deep sense of care about the nature of stories and who gets to tell them.
If you care about music at all, Mood Machine is essential reading. Liz Pelly’s book is not only a great explanation of how (and why) the way we consume music today is broken. It will make you want to do something about it.
I want to:
I was scrolling back through the archives recently and realized that I never actually made a list in 2015. I cited some albums I liked, but I hedged a whole bunch in the blurb about not being a critic and didn’t even rank them. Must have been having a weird winter. So as a decade-late update, here are my 15 favorite albums of 2015 (with the benefit of hindsight).
Don’t let them make you go numb
Don’t let them dull your compassion
Don’t let them tell you you’re wrong
Don’t let them claim this is balance, no
Don’t let them question your love
-The Armed
I contributed a bit about my favorite album of the year to Like What You Like’s Albums of the Year episode. Check out the listener submissions at the end for mine and the full episode for all of their great recommendations.
And don’t worry — my annual wrap-up post is still coming (probably after Christmas).








Some highlights from this year’s Riot Fest. This one felt really special. I saw a couple reunions I’ve been dreaming of (Rilo Kiley, Texas Is the Reason), screamed my voice out at my 31st Wonder Years show, and so much more. I sang “Lord, to be 33 forever” along with The Hold Steady and was so genuinely inspired and reminded that I can still make cool art as I get older. I got to see Harrison Gordon — kids who used to open for my bands — up on the main stage shouting out “fucking Normal, Illinois” and felt so proud of the lineage of DIY in my hometown. Even though the crowd and schedule delays messed up some plans (I will catch Weird Al next time, I swear), it was an experience I won’t forget. Shout out to the friends who hung out with me all weekend and the ones I didn’t run into. I’m already looking forward to next year.
“They gave me a stage and a microphone. They put it on Amazon Prime. So before we get out of here I gotta say three things: I gotta say protect trans youth. I gotta say fuck ICE. And with my whole fucking chest, I gotta say free Palestine!”
I nearly teared up watching this. It was Father’s Day, and I was holding Lily. To see my favorite band on the biggest stage in the scene, shouting out their kids and then shouting loud about the most important issues of the day, it meant something. It meant there are other people out there who want to make a better world for ourselves and for our neighbors and for the next generation. Sometimes I need that reminder.
“I’m gonna go, start to dig, plant a seed, keep the birds away. I’m gonna grow you a place safer than this.”
A few days ago, Liesi and I took Elliot to the park by our house to enjoy the year’s last offering of nice weather. 50 degrees at the golden hour in final throes of December — maybe it’s climate change, or just Illinois being Illinois, but you have to take advantage of those days when you get them. It felt like a lot of days this past fall, the best October weather we’ve had in years. Elliot was laughing like a madman while I rolled a soccer ball down a slide at him, and the year kind of snapped into place.
It was a full year, to say the least. Elliot is 18 months old now, and getting out of the newborn/infant stage and into full-on toddler mode has made parenting genuinely fun for me. Exhausting at times, sure, but seeing his personality grow and develop fills me with joy every day. We’re expecting our second in February, so the back half of the year has been a whirlwind of nerves and excitement and preparation to be a family of four.
This year also marked a decade of being what I’d call a real adult. 2014 was the year I released my first album, started dating Liesi, graduated college, went on my first tour, moved to Chicago, started my career, saw Jimmy Eat World play “23” on my 23rd birthday. I ticked off all of those “ten years ago” milestones with mixed feelings. Fondness for that year and all the growth it started, of course, but tinged with the regret that I didn’t take every chance or go through every door that was open to me then. I worry that I haven’t done enough, that, despite all the good in my life, I haven’t accomplished everything my 23-year old self had hoped I would. (Unsurprisingly, my favorite album of the year has something to say about that, but more on that below).
I think that’s a normal feeling at this age, especially for parents. There’s a sense of so many doors closing as you rearrange your life and priorities around your new tiny human. There’s less time for all the things I’d like to make and see and do, the things that, a decade ago, formed the basis of who I am and how I see myself. I feel more acutely than ever that I’m rebuilding and reshaping myself every day. I struggle with the balance sometimes, but I know what I want: I want to be the best father and husband and friend that I can be, and I want to stay curious and hungry and creative. I hope that I can.
And on to the lists. I always rank these (except for the one year when I didn’t), but everything on here comes highly recommended by me. Watch something, read something, listen to something.
My Year On Last.fm
Though it’s not the case every year, this list mostly lines up with my most played albums of the year. That’s probably how it should be. These were the albums I came back to over and over again, not what I heard once or twice and felt like “should” be on a top ten list. When I read back through my past lists, the “I guess this should be here” picks always stand out as some kind of posturing to be “cool” or “right” when I am rarely either.
If you know me at all, my top two albums probably aren’t a surprise. In Lieu of Flowers is the third album Wonder Years frontman Dan Campbell has made under the Aaron West moniker, and it’s easily the best. I’m not sure there’s a more cathartic moment to be found on this list than the bridge of “Monongahela Park.” I hope it’s not the last we hear from Aaron, but if it is, In Lieu of Flowers leaves the character in a satisfying place.
Maxwell Stern has become one of my favorite songwriters over the past five years, both as a solo artist and in Signals Midwest. His second solo album, In the Good Light, is a lush, engrossing collection of songs about falling in love and making peace with your past. There’s a thread of community and connection that runs through it, and every line about a friend or a loved one conjures up the face of someone in my own life that I should definitely call up and check in on. I could make a case for a few different best tracks, but “You Deserve a Great Love” is particularly noteworthy. It’s a resonant rocker with a bridge that recalls Elvis Costello, and I played it constantly in the second half of the year as a mantra, a hug, a reminder not to be so hard on myself.
Honorable Mention/The Only EP I Really Loved This Year: Anika Pyle – Four Corners
My comprehensive spreadsheet of every show I’ve been to.
I played or attended 30 shows this year. When venues opened up again after the Covid shutdowns, I made an effort to focus on seeing bands I hadn’t seen before or might never get a chance to see again. This year I swung back in the opposite direction, and all of my favorite shows were artists I’ve seen many times before. It’s just more fun to scream songs you love than fill out a checklist.
My year on Letterboxd
As with every year, caveat that I haven’t seen a bunch of big November and December releases yet. I’ll probably update this closer to the Oscars when I’ve hopefully seen all of the major contenders, but this is the list for now. Overall, I think this was a really good movie year, and Dune: Part 2 on opening day with the Hans Zimmer score literally shaking my seat was a top tier moviegoing experience.
My year on Trakt
I went into this year with the plan of not starting new TV shows. As the streaming model has pushed so much TV into longer episodes and shorter seasons, I think a lot of the magic of TV has faded. Focusing on the shows I’m already excited about seemed like a better use of TV time than adding a whole bunch of new shows just to keep up. Of course, I made a couple exceptions. I did watch the long awaited (though ultimately middling) Netflix adaptation of The Three-Body Problem, the consensus critical favorite Shōgun, and obviously the Star Wars shows. In lieu of keeping up with new TV, I watched all of Twin Peaks — a beautiful and at times frustrating journey — and went way back to the beginning of The Twilight Zone, which continues to surprise and delight as I meander through the classic seasons.
My year on Goodreads
I read 35 books this year (including a handful of short stories/novellas that I logged individually). That’s a bit higher than my number on Goodreads, which is missing a few things I counted, like Dan Campbell’s new poetry chapbook and the extensive hardbound liner notes to Adjy’s The Idyll Opus (I-VI).
No list of 2024 releases, as usual — it would only have two books on it — but these were my favorite reads of the year.
Finally, my favorite lyric of the year, from “In the Good Light” by Maxwell Stern.
God damn, don’t let me do that dance of
“I wonder what I could have been?”
Like I’ll never hit the halcyon heights of joy that I knew back then
A heart filled up with motion, baby
I am leaning in to a brilliant beacon in the distance
Praying: “If there’s a moment, don’t you miss it. Amen.”

After doing a few guest spots on friends’ podcasts (and listening to untold hours of podcasts over the past decade), I decided to start my own.
It’s called Noise Floor. It’s a music podcast, where Matt Kistler and I talk music through the lens of our favorite artists’ discographies.
I often joke that the best podcasts are the ones that the hosts have been doing off-mic for years. That’s absolutely what this is — basically a continuation of the conversations Matt and I have all the time. We’ve been having a ton of fun with it so far, and you can hear the first episode today. New episodes weekly, so subscribe here.
If you’re an avid reader of the credits section on Bandcamp (or this blog), you probably know that I have produced and mixed almost everything Pelafina has ever released (with the exception of Familiar Places — all credit goes to Nick Stetina for that one). In a way, our discography is a living diary of me learning how to do this stuff. I’m also an inveterate tinkerer who isn’t ever really happy with anything I make. Nothing is ever done, only released, and occasionally something we released nags at me enough to take another shot at it. A couple months ago, I did a new mix of “Milestone,” our single from last year. We quietly snuck it out there this week (replacing the old one, George Lucas-style), so check it out to hear what we think is a much better version of this song.
Trying something new. Drums by Matt Kistler. Everything else by me.
This Page Intentionally Left Blank. Rebuilding Year.
Stream/download/tapes on Bandcamp.
This EP is mostly about things that happened a decade ago, and I felt a decade younger making it. We DIY’d everything: Recording it in my basement, dubbing tapes on my old tape deck, printing and cutting and numbering the J-cards ourselves. I tried to do something without expectations, without listening to nagging voice in my head telling me that I shouldn’t or couldn’t make something that was just for me. Thanks to Matt for helping me realize it, and thank you for listening.
Pelafina has another new song out today. “Twist the Knife” has been a long time in the making — we might even have started working on it pre-pandemic. I think the time paid off though, especially in the mix, which is probably my favorite yet.