Next round: 33-48

48. Port O’Brien: Threadbare
47. Headlights: Wildlife
46. Felice Brothers: Yonder is the Clock
45. Cut Off Your Hands: You and I
44. The Woodlands: The Woodlands
43. Gift of Gab: Escape to Mars
42. Throw Me the Statue: Creaturesque
41. Alela Diane: To Be Still
40. Laura Gibson: Beasts of Seasons
39. Lushlife: Cassette City
38. Harper Simon: Harper Simon
37. Justin Townes Earle: Midnight at the Movies
36. Jenny Owen Youngs: Transmitter Failure
35. Mayer Hawthorne: A Strange Arrangement
34. Lightning Dust: Infinite Light
33. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: It’s Blitz!

2009 albums of the year: numbers 49-53

53. Richard Swift: Atlantic Ocean.
52. Samantha Crain and the Midnight Shivers: Songs in the Night.
51. Vetiver: Tight Knit.
50. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros: Up From Below.
49. Amadou et Mariam: Welcome to Mali.

Splitting hairs

Sixteen more albums succumbed in the loser's bracket, but looking at the list, numbers 30 through 70 are potentially interchangeable. Almost all of these albums could have been listed on the "Could have been a contender category" because all 16 were good enough to make the final list, though lacked the consistency to warrant repeated plays five years down the road. I did select five, however, to make the final countdown. Added to the final 48 remaining, they will round out my top 53 albums of the year. I'll post those soon. First, the round-up:

*Could have been a contender: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Up From Below. Though the album has five outstanding songs and a bunch of OK songs, the group's best songs, "40 Day Dream" and "Home" are good enough to propel this album to propel this album into the top 40 or higher.

*Should have been a contender: Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Again, the band was three or so more great songs away from a top 20 finish. Catch them live if you can. There are 10 or so band members crammed onto what is usually a tiny stage. Meanwhile, lead singer Alex Ebert, who resembles some sort of hippie Messiah, ventures into the crowd to bond with the audience and possibly find some more followers.

*Purchased the album, not buying the hype: Girls, Album. To be fair, I didn't have this album long enough to be in heavy rotation in time to snag a higher seed in the tournament. Also to be fair, I am buying the hype for half of this album, but it suffers from the same issues of inconsistency as the Edward Sharpe album.

*Check you out later: Megafaun, Gather, Form and Fly. This album reminds me of Blitzen Trapper's Wild Mountain Nation and Field Rexx albums: there were great songs on those albums but some of the album's momentum was negated by what my friend Lynne calls "noodling." Sometimes, Megafaun sounds like it is interested in experimentation and doesn't quite realize yet that it's a real band. I'll purchase Megafaun's next album based on potential. AFter all, Blitzen Trapper eventually settled on a sound and produced last year's stellar Furr, which would have been in my top 10 had I ever bothered to compile one.

32 more gone

*Could have been a contender: Fanfarlo, Reservoir.

*Should have been a contender: There were some albums I looked forward to this year and ultimately didn't meet expectations. Despite a few strong songs, Langhorne Slim's Be Set Free didn't match the energy of his 2008 album, which, if I had have made a best-of list last year, would have been in my top 20 for sure.

*Purchased the album, not buying the hype: Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion. Widely regarded as the album of the year in critic circles, there's no question this album is creative and musically engaging. But that doesn't I'm ever going to listen to it again. I remember the first time my mom tried goat's milk at a farm where we were guests. She didn't want to be rude, so she took a sip and said, "Hmmmm, interesting." That sums up my feelings of this album.

*Check you out later: Dawes, North Hills. This album could have gone in the "Could have been a contender" category because it had top 53 potential. With L.A.'s Dawes, San Francisco's Or, the Whale and Seattle's Maldives, The west coast is full of young, twangy, country-influenced bands. The Maldives are the best of the bunch, but Dawes isn't far behind.

The first eliminations

The first 32 albums were eliminated from contention in the quest to find the top 53 albums of the year. Here's an update:

*Could have been a contender: While the system is basically fair, the draw does matter. For the early rounds, I'll pick the best eliminated album, one that could have made it to the final list if given a different draw. This round: Ben Darwish's Ode to Consumerism. I'm not a jazz connoisseur at all, but this Portland jazz pianist grabbed my attention with the original title track and a cover of Green Day's "Longview."

*Purchased the album, not buying the hype: Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest.

*Check you out later: Every round I'll pick a band that didn't make the final cut but that at least piqued my interest. This round: Warpaint.

At last I've found a way to crown the album of the year

When I was 10 -- and 11 and 12 and 13 and probably 14 -- I played Nerf basketball incessantly. I would make tournaments and play all of the games out by myself. I started at 64, but then that wasn't enough. I went up to 128, then 256 and then 512. A quarter of a decade later, I've decided to resurrect my DIY brackets for one sole purpose: to crown my album of the year with a 128-album double elimination tournament. Until this year, I've never officially written a year-end best-of list. I didn't think I could really choose one fairly because the albums from earlier in the year ended up being forgotten. Speaking of forgetting, I'm to the point in my life where if I don't write down my favorite albums of the year, I may never remember them again.

I wanted my list to represent fairly which album I like to listen to the most. Not which one is more creative. Not which one is different. Not which one sounds interesting. Which albums do I sing along to and which ones will I sing along to in 10 years? Here's how it works:

* I found some British foosball double-elimination tournament online to serve as my bluprint.

* I seeded the albums from 1-128 based on my iTunes play count. If there was a tie -- and there were many -- then I chose which one I thought was the better album as the higher seed. I could have ranked them 1-128 by what I thought the order was going to be, but that didn't seem very interesting. Besides, I came up with the tournament to get away from just the top-of-my-head list. There are certain to be albums that have better draws than others but with a double-elimination format, the best albums will win out.

* I originally planned to listen to every album at every round until I realized I wouldn't finish until December of 2010. Instead, I have a "listen-off" if there is even the slightest doubt of which album I like better. Having already started the process, I can say that my prediction of what will win only plays out half the time. Albums that I thought were great suddenly sound merely good.

There really isn't a foolproof way to decide the year's best album, so I'm sticking with what I know how to do: listen to music and make brackets.

May the best album win. And if it doesn't, then may it come up from the loser's bracket to triumph in the end.

Hinging my hopes on the next generation

I can't dance. It has something to do with growing up Mennonite probably. Or at least that's convenient to say. After all, Mennonites weren't supposed to dance. My high school banned dances and the college I went to didn't sponsor dances until three years before I arrived. In college, I rarely danced because I was usually the DJ. That was a convenient out as well.

The fact is that the "oh, I'm Mennonite, so that's why I can't dance or have any sort of moves except for the running man" masks an important fact: even I would have had more opportunities to dance, that doesn't mean that I actually could physically do it. I'm not alone. I haven't read any studies, but if there was one about Mennonites and dancing, I'm pretty sure it would show that 85 percent of Mennonites born before 1982 have no rhythm.

So, I was hopeful this morning when Mauren took time out from our tea party to dance to the Gaslight Anthem. She has moves, including a little hip shake and a tilting head nod. Best of all, she was to the beat. The next generation may actually have some rhythm.

All Ella wants for her birthday is her music

Ella makes a mix CD of her current favorite songs every year for her birthday. Her mix always includes all-time favorite Justin Roberts, as well as old stand-bys, They Might Be Giants. Those two, as well as current faves Recess Monkey and the soundtrack to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (side tangent: this is the Gene Wilder old-school version, which is preferable to Johnny Depp's version. Wilder's Wonka is at times bordering on satanic, but he won't hurt your kids. Depp's Wonka is just plain creepy. If I were forced to choose to send my kids to Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch or at Depp's Wonka Factory, it would be a toss-up).

These kids songs that Ella likes don't needle at me the way the Doodlebops, Barney or Raffi start to. So, I generally like her mix. Ella has complete editorial control, but it seems like she humors me every year with a few token "Daddy songs." Last year it was M. Ward's "Big Boat," and this year it's the White Stripes, "My Doorbell," along with some Great Lake Swimmers.

Mauren's mix is coming along as well and she's more receptive to my music at this point. Stay tuned for May for the final completion of that one.

The morning after

Ella has been working on her mix CD for her birthday party this weekend and she asks to listen to it all the time. I went to see Ra Ra Riot last night and they're poppy enough that I thought the girls might like them. I said, "hey, this is a band I went to hear last night. After five second of "Ghost Under Rocks," Ella said "Can we can back to my mix?"

I took Ella to the Crystal Ballroom free-for-all Sunday, thinking that she might like the music, and if not, she'd at least get a balloon. To be clear: Ella loves music, just not my music. She listens to Justin Roberts, They Might Be Giants, Harmonica Pocket and most recently the soundtrack to the old school version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. What I really wanted her to see on Sunday was the first band, a trio from the Rock and Roll Girls Camp. Ella, wearing her balloon butterfly wings, jumped around on the Crystal's bouncy wood floor. My daughters will have a choice in their future. She can choose their preferred activities, with one exception: Rock and Roll Girls Camp is mandatory. I'm only slightly kidding.

Unfortunately, Ella was the only real active audience member during the Girls Camp group. Ella then danced to the next band, Still Pending, a pre-pubescent version of Greenday, until jumping up into my arms to watch the rest of the show. She didn't focus completely on the music all the time but she and Mauren (after joining us after her nap) watched two marimba bands and a female bluegrass trio. When it was time to go, Ella was exhausted, but didn't want to go. She wanted to stay and listen to the Garcia Birthday Band and threw a minor fit. Ella has a hard time making it through dinner, yet somehow she managed to stay alert during 15-minute Dead jams -- something I cannot do.

After the kids and Sonya went home, I stuck around for Greensky Bluegrass, Blue Giant and Blitzen Trapper. I celebrated my evening of independence by promptly falling asleep in the balcony during Greensky Bluegrass. As noted in my last post, staying awake at shows is an ongoing issue. I'd wake up every time the audience clapped during Greensky, but after their set, I zoned out completely, only to wake up to suddenly notice that Blue Giant had come out on stage. So really, there were two small victories today: Ella rocking out and my staying awake during Blue Giant while sitting down. I stood up for Blitzen Trapper and I was well rested thanks to my Greensky snooze. That may end up being a winning formula: fall asleep during the opener and then perk up just in time to make it through the main event.

Rock and roll will save your soul -- if you can stay awake

Once the kids are in bed and I manage to get out of the house to go to a show, I'm not home free. If the show is at the Holocene, I'm OK because I have to stand. If the show is at the Crystal Ballroom and I'm on the floor, I'm OK because I have to stand. If the show is at Berbati's, I'm OK because I have to stand. The Aladdin is another story. I saw three shows at the seated Aladdin in October and November and I fell asleep during all of them at some point. Yael Naim is mellow, so maybe that's understandable, but I also fell asleep during Dengue Fever and Yeasayer -- hardly musical sedatives.

Sure, I'm tired from working and parenting and going out after 9 like I'm still 21 is probably not a great idea. I don't blame that. I once fell asleep when I was out with friends at what used to be North By Northwest (now Music Fest NW). I was sitting at a table and at one point I drifted off and slumped onto the table. I was completely sober and I didn't have any kids at the time. I also fell asleep watching "The Fugitive" and I was 21. Not to mention that it's, you know, one of those edge-of-your-seat thrillers.

So, of course, I blame my dad. He could -- and still can -- fall asleep anywhere. We were once watching the NCAA tournament together in the Hoosier Dome in Indianapolis. There were 30,000-plus people around us cheering and Dad put his head in his hands and fell asleep immediately. Add my genes that to a seat and a full day of work and parenting and the only thing rock and rolling is my weary head as I'm trying to stay awake. After my string of Aladdin snoozers, I went to the Doug Fir to see Thao and The Get Down Stay Down and was waiting for my party to show up. I went back to sit at the bar and fell asleep sitting straight up on the bar stool. At the Crystal Ballroom balcony back in October, I went to sit in the balcony for a show and fell asleep between acts. I finally moved down to the floor for Mates of State and Santogold.

I love the music. That's why I show up. I don't have the energy to dress well. Or to order a martini. Or to dance well. Say what you will, but being a dork takes less energy. And I need all the energy I can just to stay awake.

The kids love me but not my music

This is my status with my daughters:

*We were in the car once a few months back when Ella, my 4-year old, asked to listen to her music, which is usually Justin Roberts.
"Just a minute, sweetie," I said. "We're going to listen to my music until this song is over."
"But nobody likes your music, Daddy."

*A few weeks later, Ella and I were in the kitchen cooking dinner. I went over to the computer to change songs.
"What are you doing daddy?" Ella asked.
"I'm changing songs."
"Why?"
"That was kind of a weird song."
"Why do you like weird songs so much? Why do you like weird things so much?"
I just laughed. I had no answer.

*A few weeks later, our 2-year-old, Mauren, was with me in kitchen. Mauren was my rock and roll hope. She listened to anything. She was bobbing to Blitzen Trapper until all of the sudden "Furr" came on. This is one of the catchiest songs of the year and she said "I don't like this song." I tried to change her mind but she made me turn it off.