Women I Have Known In One Way Or Another, As Represented By Albums I Currently Own Or Have Owned At One Point

Rainy Day Music, The Jayhawks
Engaging from note one, it's an experience that reminds you of roots you didn't know you had. Builds and builds to an epic storytelling scope that redefines your expectations. But despite its new-classic status, the last track is just an acoustic reprise of the first one, and familiarity breeds contempt. Ultimately, the repetition signals the beginning of the end.

Before These Crowded Streets, Dave Matthews Band
Not just a step forward, but a full-on sonic expansion from previous outings. Darker, sadder, more complex and more rewarding with each successive listen. Unfortunately, it's inextricably linked to being 17, and those kind of mistakes are big ones.

Safe Away, Denison Witmer
Cut my heart out and feed it to me, why don't you. Unrepentant tease.

I'm Good Now, Bob Schneider
An earnest roots-rock outing, with touches from the sentimental to the sublime. A great album, even if you did get introduced to it by your friend with better (read: hipper) taste, and as much as you come to love the album, and you do, you can't shake the image of your friend every time you play it. Soon enough, this starts to sour the experience of listening to the CD, and before you know it, you look at it in your CD album and just keep turning pages. Maybe next time, you say, but you know it's a lie.

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning, Bright Eyes
This is maybe the best album you've ever heard, and you thank God for making you smart enough to buy it. It's honest, and open, and quick, and intelligent, and the lyrics make sense and never seem to feel like they're forcing the poetry or anything, they're just plain good. You start to love the album, and listening to it makes you feel connected to something larger than yourself. Unfortunately, being only an album, it can only play the same thing over and over again, and you start to realize how weird it is to measure personal growth by listening to something that never changes. You part ways with the album, promising to listen to it again soon, maybe grab some sushi next Friday, but really, who are we kidding.