I had a nice time putting this kind of thing together in 2024, so I have decided to run back the concept for 2025. The Long List is partly a best-of collection of art and media that was either new or new to me in the past year and partly a collection of things that weren’t new but had some significance to me in that span of time. This list is not ranked unless otherwise indicated, and commentary may be provided throughout.

I continued my tradition of making a playlist each month of songs that I vibed with, songs that were new that I enjoyed, songs I had on repeat, and songs that carried some sort of significance. I put them all together into one playlist for the year here:

As a big fan of the work of Jeff Tweedy both as a solo act and as a member of Wilco, I was excited for (and had some trepidation about) his triple album Twilight Override released this year. Miraculously, in spite of its length, it hangs together. I immediately took a shine to the lead single “Enough” and it was an early contender for Song of My Year out of the gate.

Some points of clarification - was this my favorite song of the year? I’m not sure, although Apple Music tells me it was the song I listened to the most. Was it the best song of the year or the most definitive song of the year? For me and my experience of 2025, I think so.

I resonated with Tweedy’s weary and mildly indignant tone, going through a line of questioning in the verses. “Has it ever been enough? Has it ever been ok?” The chorus cuts it open a bit more, the lyrics of the third one really doing it for me:

Interspersed throughout are the gentler bridges in which our singer lends some solidarity with the acknowledgement that “Its hard to stay in love with everyone.”

I don’t know what old man Tweedy was thinking of when he penned this tune, but this captured my experience of living in the world of 2025. It is a significant challenge to pursue an ideal of living as a long person with general good will to all when confronted with the meanness, venality, naked greed, full throated stupidity, and wanton cruelty of day to day life; particularly in this last year, but really over the last decade since the first Trump election. How might I stay in love and live in love when every day I see so many things that are worthy and deserving of my hate?

And yet, “Enough” is not a song of despair. The creeping darkness is acknowledged, but the tone of the song is defiant. That also captures my experience.

I got on board with this North Carolinian rock outfit with their last record, Rat Saw God. Solid riffs, earworm guitar solos, and deeply specific, evocative lyrics? Sign me up! The leadup to Bleeds was colored by the departure of guitarist (and musician in his own right) MJ Lenderman, as well as the end of the romantic union of Lenderman and Wednesday’s vocalist/guitarist/songwriter, Karly Hartzman. That breakup is reflected in the music, and the end result is beautiful and rocks hard as shit in equal measure.

I was mixed on the first post-split solo Benny Safdie film, but the score was excellent.

Folks, we’re 2 for 2 on Safdie movie soundtracks this year! The literal creator of Vaporwave ups his game on this one.

This solidified as a “gym album” for me - something about punk that expresses howling disgust at the modern world really gets me through those last few reps!

Michelle Zauner’s fifth album under the moniker Japanese Breakfast is lush, gorgeous, and temporarily cured my seasonal depression when it came out in March. Reviews were positive, but I think there should have been more buzz!

In the inaugural endowment of this prestigious honor, I am going to scandalize my critics with a tie: Robert Loggia in Lost Highway and Walter Matthau in The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. God, I love a character actor, particularly one who is rumpled and bedraggled and nobody does rumpled and bedraggled better than Matthau. His win is secured by the look he gives at the end of this scene, which is the last shot of film, so spoilers for The Taking of Pelham One Two Three:

Leathery and crazy is another varietal of character actor that I enjoy, hence the honoring of Mr. Loggia. My initial awareness of Robert Loggia came, like many people of my generation, from that Family Guy clip, which for me has aged like milk. I don’t think the impression is all that great, and they leave so much meat on the bone when it comes to deploying his essence for comedic effect. A more effective use of his Loggiality is this Minute Maid commercial, and I consider it my main touch point for Robert Loggia now.

After tearing David Lynch a new asshole when he wasn’t even seen to read for the role of Frank Booth in Blue Velvet because Lynch cast Dennis Hopper in the room, Loggia remained in Lynch’s memory until the opportunity to use him came again in Lost Highway 10 years later. This scene locked up his spot in the hallowed halls of victory.

An honorable mention goes to Ernest Borgnine. I watched a few episodes of McHale’s Navy early in the year, but ultimately couldn’t hang with it.

This list is presented in full awareness that there are a few key 2025 releases that I haven’t seen yet that could crack the top 10

*Major props to Payakan, the mighty Tulkun and the other whales who had piercings

I have read along with Defector Reads a Book a few times and it has never steered me wrong, so I started Portis’ The Dog of the South when it was announced earlier in the year. I had such a blast with it that I immediately dug into Masters of Atlantis and then True Grit soon after. The humor and the dialogue are top tier, but the thing that gives me the juice with Portis’s stories is his perfect capture of the Great American Bullshitters, Weirdos, and Idiots. These are derisive terms, but he writes his characters with such specificity and care as to avoid condescension or disdain towards these kinds of people, which I find masterful.

I read this earlier in the year and I find myself looking back on the memory of the experience missing my beefy, boxy, intelligent pal Thomas Cromwell. God, these books were a joy to read.

Once I got off socials my appetite for stuff didn’t abate (working on that!) and so I partially filled that void by subscribing to a number of newsletters. Some provide me links to other things that I can dig in on, others feature writing that I just consume on its own. They all provide me enjoyment and a high watermark to pursue in my own work here:

Sometimes, particularly with a memoir or other book published by a figure from another medium, I have a hunch that hearing the author read the book is going to be a superior experience to the physical copy. Such was the case with this year’s co-winners, Unrequited Infatuations by Stevie Van Zandt and Catching the Big Fish by David Lynch. Miami Steve sounds like a bulldog smoking a cigar, and listening to him read his memoir was a joy, particularly when he got indignant or fired up, like when he delivers a body blow to Paul Simon for being pals with Henry Kissinger. I might have read the Lynch book in physical form, but I had a blast listening to him wax poetic on creativity in that great, honking, midwest accent.

Eagle eyed readers will remember this as the year I got into Phish and the final step in the initiation process was seeing them live. I waffled and ultimately decided against seeing them at Forest Hills Stadium over the summer, which was a wise move. It was too early in my gestational period, and while Forest Hills is a gorgeous venue, the trouble with the locals complaining about the noise for every show that plays there seems like it might harsh my vibe. Instead, I opted to make my first foray into the live Phish experience at one of the band’s MSG shows that they do in the run up to (and including) New Year’s Eve every year. Acolyte that I am, I know that these tend to be great shows and would serve as a great entry point for me.

The experience did not disappoint. The arena smelled like I was inside a joint that was actively being smoked, like when the bad guy kills that Wayans brother in Scary Movie 2. Phish played 2 great sets, there were enough songs that I recognized and was excited to hear, and plenty others that I was less familiar with. I was situated int the nosebleeds next to a friendly woman who had been to 280+ shows (she grew up in New England in the 90’s, so that helped pad the stats) who was so genuinely excited that I was seeing Phish for the first time. We chatted during the intermission and I think I impressed her by saying that I hoped they would play “When the Circus Comes”.

Much of the appeal of seeing Phish live, most fans will tell you, is getting to experience the work of their lighting designer Chris Kuroda, considered to be the 5th member of the band. Definitively the 5th member though, not like how you can debate who the 5th Beatle is. Kuroda’s wizardry was on full display, syncing up with the music in so many ways and at one point going through a sequence that made me feel like I was Roy Scheider at the end of 2001 going to meet the Star Child. I had to close my eyes. On the way out of the show, I overheard someone saying “yeah, my cousin has River Phoenix’s car right now”. I haven’t fully unpacked that yet.

It expands your horizons, folks!

See you in 2026!!!