It was hard to imagine the breakup of a band deeply affecting me anymore, but I don't have to imagine it now: I'm feeling too-real heartbreak over The Lucksmiths breaking up.

I have a lot of my life wrapped up in the songs of The Lucksmiths. From the first time I heard them on my friend Christian's recommendation, I found a true musical friend in this band who could see the thrilling happiness of life just as clearly as the inevitable sadness, making jokes and puns even at the most frustrating and difficult times.

Past loves and life changes are all over the music of The Lucksmiths. Ever house or apartment I've lived in since 1998 can be brought back by at least one song in their discography. One of the greatest regrets of my life--passing up the chance to play guitar in a band that was touring with them--is there in the notes of their songs.

I saw them live four times, and yet the one time that springs to mind is the last time they were in DC, when I was too hungover and exhausted to stick around for the show.

It would be perfect to be able to make a clever joke or pun at this point to honor the memory of a great band that was so funny and charming while also being beautifully sad, but I just can't think of anything funny at the moment. So, like a true indiepop fan, I'll let a mix fill in for my feelings.



"Requiem For the Punter's Club"
"Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows you're drunk."

"Untidy Towns"
One of the perfect Lucksmiths songs: bittersweet wordplay ("given time, I could get tired of all this sleeping, the days I've thrown away and the hours I am keeping") combine with a great melody, and touches of backing vocals and piano. The starting point for anyone unfamiliar.

"Under The Rotunda"
The first Lucksmiths song I ever heard. Full of puns and innocent love, it is, in retrospect, the sound of the last of the early days of the Lucksmiths.

"Midweek Midmorning"
The standard Lucksmiths sound, with that kind of heartlifting moment they could give up so effortlessly: "You beside and bluer skies above me...spring fashion week and don't we both look lovely."

"The Fog of Trujillo"
Mark Monnone's songs were always brighter than Marty Donald's bittersweet, and even though Marty's songs always spoke to me more clearly, Mark's songs were the perfect "should have been hits" indiepop catchiness.

"I Started A Joke"
One of the best things about the Lucksmiths as they went on was to hear how Tali White refuse to be just a good singer, and by 2008's b-sides and rarities comp Spring A Leak, he'd turned into one of the best male vocalists around. I know this will be blasphemy to a lot of people, but Tali's turn in this song makes this cover stomp all over the Bee Gee's original.

"Fear of Rollercoasters"
2001's Why That Doesn't Surprise Me was a big turning point for the Lucksmiths. Tali started using a floor tom along with his snare drum, which seems like a small move, but it had a big effect on the sound of the Lucksmiths. Marty started playing around with more robust and unusual song arrangements, and there was a lot more instrumentation. When it first came out, I missed the sparse sound of their earlier work, but it didn't take too long to realize that this was the moment when they turned from a good indiepop band to a great one that defined everything good about the style while keeping every bit of the charm.

"T-Shirt Weather"
If there was any justice in this world (note: there is no justice in this world), this would have been a massive hit. Mark at his peak.

"The Music Next Door"
In some ways, I wish that the Lucksmiths had seen out their career with Warmer Corners. This song--the jewel of that album, my favorite of theirs--defines the later period Lucksmiths in the way that "Untidy Towns" defines the early. A sad song of unsure friendship, it's made by the "ba-ba-ba"s melting into the horn line. It's almost too much.

"Frisbee"
The charm of their early years. Even puns as corny as "I still have the alarm clock that you bought me for my birthday...there's no present like the time" sound charming from them and it never fails to cheer me.

"The Year of Driving Langorously"
I have too much life and love woven into this song. The pun title betrays a song of total uncertainty and unraveling relationships. It's incredibly hard to listen to this song, but I do anyway.

"We drive, time flies." Bye, Lucksmiths. I'll miss you.