>> ERIC T. MILLER, Editor & Publisher
Five New Songs I'm Digging Right Now
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds “More News From Nowhere” from Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!! (Anti-): this eight-minute album closer joins the canon of classic Cave compositions and lyrically reintroduces the mysterious Deanna.
Ray Davies “Hymn For A New Age” from Working Man’s Café (New West): an aging man whose “soul is too far gone to be saved” searches for something—anything—to believe in.
Robert Forster “From Ghost Town” from The Evangelist (Yep Roc): Forster pays tribute to late Go-Betweens partner Grant McLennan with this gorgeous weeper.
Nada Surf “Beautiful Beat” from Lucky (Barsuk): Like my colleague says below, this is just a dippy ode to music, but it’s so honest and heartfelt that it grabs you and doesn’t let go.
R.E.M. “Mansized Wreath” from Accelerate (Warner Bros.): an uptempo rocker that steals liberally from Kool And The Gang and somehow makes it a good thing.

My New Rules Regarding Presidential Candidates
Given this seemingly never-ending campaign for the presidency, I have decided that we need some new rules in regard to who can be allowed to run for office. Too many ill-equipped idiots with ideas that are intellectually and morally bankrupt have already wasted our precious time and money, so we need to make some sweeping changes. With apologies to Bill Maher, these are my 10 new rules:

From now on, you can’t run for president if you …
… don’t believe in evolution
… equate homosexuality with bestiality
… feel your religious beliefs should be thought of as a political asset
… think global warming isn’t a serious problem
… use September 11 as a reason that people should vote for you
… are against abortion rights, even in cases of rape, incest or to protect the life of the mother
… oppose expanding federal funding on stem-cell research
… believe the best way to deal with illegal immigration is to build a big fence
… feel our healthcare system doesn’t need to be drastically overhauled immediately
… think we can and will win the war in Iraq

>> MATTHEW FRITCH, Senior Editor
Nada Surf Lucky (Barsuk)
Until recently, I’d cherrypicked my way through the Nada Surf catalog: four albums that each typically contained two great, bittersweet guitar-pop songs, a majority of decent tracks and, sometimes, a real crime against intelligence. (Anti-rape screed “Mother’s Day” from 1998’s The Proximity Effect springs to mind.) There were other problems, too. Singer/guitarist Matthew Caws tends to write goofily up-with-people lyrics (“Always love/Hate will get you every time”) that border on self-help rock for recovering Weezer fans. What makes fifth album Lucky any different? Cohesion, restraint and quality control. Nada Surf finally sounds comfortable with its gifts in the studio—the way that Wilco did circa Summerteeth, the way Teenage Fanclub has since 1992—and the 10 songs on Lucky hang together with mellow precision. Caws is still pretty dippy (“Beautiful Beat” is his ode to, uh, music), but he sings like Stuart Murdoch’s American cousin and generally gives an unbearably pretty glow to an album that kills cynicism the quiet way.

Maoz Vegetarian
This Amsterdam-based fast-food falafel chain has locations in Mumbai, London, Paris, Perth and … Philadelphia. Actually, we now have two Maoz shops, with the second having recently opened two blocks from MAGNET HQ. Downtown Philly’s takeout-lunch options generally range from hoagies* to sandwiches** (OK, there’s pizza, too), so it’s nice to have the option of comparatively lighter fare: Maoz’s extensive selection of toppings (spiced carrots, chili or cilantro salsa, yogurt tahini, fresh cucumbers) makes for the best fixins’ bar since the Wendy’s Super Bar circa 1988.

*Best hoagie: Primo’s, 128 S. 11th St.
**Best sandwich: DiNic’s roast pork, Reading Terminal Market

>> JESSICA PARKER, Assistant Editor
Playlist for 2008 (some favorite tracks of 2007 and forever)
Times New Viking “Drop Out” (Matador)
Born Ruffians “Hummingbird” (Warp)
No Age “Everybody’s Down” (Fat Cat)
Guided By Voices “Ohio-19 Something And 5” (Rockathon)
Silkworm “(I Hope You) Don’t Survive” (Touch & Go)
Throw Me The Statue “Take It Or Leave It” (Baskerville Hill)
Pavement “Box Elder” (Drag City)
Evangelicals “Here In The Headlights” (Dead Oceans)
GBV “Big School” (City Slang)
Joan Of Arc “Violenci Or Violencium” (Polyvinyl)
Broken Social Scene Presents Kevin Drew “Back Out On The…” (Arts&Crafts)
Wheat “Move=Move” (Empyrean)
Pavement “…And Carrot Rope” (Matador)
Drug Rug “Day I Die” (Black & Greene)
Airport 5 “However Young They Are” (Fading Captain)
Tiny Masters Of Today “Texas” (Mute)
Tokyo Police Club “Box” (Paper Bag)
GBV “Pendulum” (Rocket #9)
Panda Bear “Bros” (Paw Tracks)
Bound Stems “Excellent News, Colonel” (Flameshovel)

Bill Bryson A Short History Of Nearly Everything (Broadway Books)
I have always considered myself exclusively right-brained. Until recently, I had no interest whatsoever in science, and any concern I did have for nature, the environment, the solar system or the world at large was filtered through a romanticized or philosophical perspective. Our planet is pretty and magical and interconnected in beautiful ways, but I never really cared too much for the how or why behind it all. Now, motivated in part by the revolutionary BBC documentary Planet Earth and by travel writer Bill Bryson’s earlier book A Walk In The Woods (a memoir about walking the Appalachian Trail), I feel compelled to know more. In this book, which spent more than six months on the New York Times bestseller list, Bryson breaks down everything from the Big Bang to the identification of fossils to the creation of the periodic table and the dating of the Earth, all in a way that even I can comprehend (most of the time, anyway; I don’t think I will ever fully grasp Einstein’s general theory of relativity or what a Super Proton Synchrotron is). Although he’s not a scientist, Bryson conducted extensive research by consulting hundreds of sources and interviewing experts in the fields of cosmology, astronomy, paleontology, geology, chemistry and physics to create a layman’s history of how the world went from nothing at all to what it is now. It isn’t a definitive source, but at a little over 500 pages, A Short History is a friendly, charming and accessible introduction to our world.

 >> JUD COST, Contributing Editor
Ronnie Spector at the Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, Dec. 8, 2007
When Ronnie Spector bounced onstage at San Francisco's cozy Herbst Theatre as a pocket-sized big band led by guitarist Daniel Rey dug into the sleigh bell-laden Phil Spector arrangement of the Ronettes' "Frosty The Snowman," your first Christmas present had just arrived two weeks early—in a black leotard, trademark mascara and a Santa Claus stocking cap. The final installment in the venue's spectacular year-long series of "original divas" shows that also included fine sets by Petula Clark and Dionne Warwick, Spector's was the best of the bunch. It was nothing short of nirvana for fans of the spine-tingling lead voice of recent Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame inductees the Ronettes. Spector, who hadn't played San Francisco since sharing a bill with Martha Reeves in 1984, fired off a boy-crazy set that included every Ronettes milestone: "Do I Love You," "The Best Part Of Breakin' Up," "I Wonder" and "Baby I Love You," as well as the starry-eyed winter epic "Walkin' In The Rain" and, of course, "Be My Baby," the only song in pop history instantly identifiable by its three-beat dum dah-dum drum intro. She also belted out "Sleigh Ride" and "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," Ronettes chestnuts from Phil Spector's classic LP A Christmas Gift For You, played in just about every Macy's elevator during the holidays since its 1963 release. In addition to the castanet-drenched "Say Goodbye To Hollywood," a 1977 single she cut with Bruce Springsteen's E Street Band, Ronnie also did a knockout version of Johnny Thunders' "You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory," a standout from She Talks To Rainbows, her more recent mini-album for Kills Rock Stars. And there was a parting shot, too, for ex-husband Phil Spector, still charged with murder in Los Angeles, when Ronnie previewed a tune from her new album called simply "He Did It."

 >> HOBART ROWLAND, Contributing Editor
The Nines Gran Junkle’s Field (T.A.S Gold Recordings)
When it comes to delivering well-crafted, reverential power pop, there’s a fine line between emulation and imitation. And the latest from Canadian hooksmiths the Nines smears that boundary with the giddy abandon of a sugar-buzzed pre-schooler elbow-deep in fingerpaints. Singer/songwriter Steve Eggers can sound an awful like Paul McCartney—that is, when he’s not channeling Badfinger’s Pete Ham. (Not a bad combo, I must say.) Hummable as hell, “Virginia” and “Find Our Way Back Home” wouldn’t have sounded out of place on an early Macca solo album; manic Jellyfish/XTC hybrid “Insanity (The Sanest Thing You Got)” is both cheesy and inspired; “I Am Lost” coulda, shoulda been a long lost Bee Gees side (to the point where I found myself checking the songwriter credits just to be sure); and “Dance Just For Me,” a collaboration with kindred ELO obsessive Bleu, may be the most heartbreakingly sincere lust letter to a stripper ever written (“To me it’s more than just a dance/I need to stand a chance”). Binging on the recycled scraps of past pop genius is rarely such a guilt-free indulgence.

Ian Hunter Shrunken Heads (Yep Roc)
Ian Hunter’s still out there touring behind this ’07 gem, God bless his creaky old soul. With age comes a certain well-earned pissiness—and Hunter is crankier than ever on Shrunken Heads. On the occasion of his 12th solo album and first in six years, the world’s gone to shit in a Louis Vuitton handbag and one of rock’s great cult heroes sounds as hungry as he ever was during his tenure with ’70s cult heroes Mott The Hoople. “Open up the floodgates and out it comes, like a river full of graffiti,” sings Hunter on opener “Words (Big Mouth),” a mumbled apology to a special someone the morning after a drunken bout of the verbal runs. Hunter’s got a lot to say on these 11 tracks, and simply by virtue of his straight-shooter’s charm, we’re compelled to come along as he ponders the unfortunate fate of whiny liberals (“Fuss About Nothin’”), calculates the diminishing returns of global and domestic politics (“Shrunken Heads,” “Brainwashed,” “How’s Your House?”), and questions his own precarious place in the postmodern age with equals parts self-evaluation (“When The World Was Round”) and self-ridicule (“I Am What I Hated When I Was Young”). Sweetening the pot, Hunter delivers some of his punchiest melodies in decades, and his singing’s gnarled vulnerability hasn’t lost a shred of its gruff intensity. Hunter’s studio pals—an impressive pickup squad that includes producer/guitarist Andy York (John Mellencamp), bassist Graham Maby (Joe Jackson, Freedy Johnston) and Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy on backup vocals—propel things along with unobtrusive alacrity, keeping their piano-pounding CEO on his toes. As if “the original mixed-up kid” needs any hand-holding when it comes to raising a little hell.