So, yes, the guys in Crowded House can flat out play. And yes, Neil Finn remains one of the best pop songwriters out there. But those weren’t reasons why the band’s show at the Minneapolis Zoo on Saturday was so good. Chalk that up to the connection between the artist and the audience. It was that extra element that made the show — despite more than a handful of technical difficulties — one of the best of the year.

I’m a big Crowded House fan, something I didn’t really realize until 1997, when Finn dissolved the band and went solo. I attended my first Finn-related concert that year, catching him on the tour for Try Whistling This. My love of his superior pop soundcraft was amplified by that experience. The performance was so good — pristine playing, tons of energy and full of Finn’s sharp wit — that the connection was forged. I realized Saturday that I’ve seen him on every tour since — a couple of shows during SXSW in support of One Nil, three years ago for Time on Earth (more on that later) and now this.

Each time, it was the connection that made the show transcendent. Which brings me to the Time on Earth tour. My wife and I saw them at the House of Blues in Chicago. Or rather, were in the same room with them. It was a sellout in an otherwise awful room. They were being taped for a webcast, so extra lights and cameras on huge booms swooped in front of the stage. We could hear a bit and see nothing, and actually left early. The problem? There was no connection. It was like sitting in your house trying to hear a loud radio from next door. Determined to see the band, I went to Minneapolis later in the tour to catch them at a theater. I left transfixed.

Which brings me to Saturday. After a short, spirited set from Lawrence Arabia, Crowded House came out to start a set that lasted nearly two hours. They opened with “Private Universe,” a song reliant on atmospherics for its opening hook, and their success with that seemed to bode well for the rest of the show. They went from that right into a bit of a career bookend, with “Saturday Sun” from Intriguer followed by “World Where You Live” from their debut (one of four songs from that album). Next was “Either Side of the World,” the current single, and one of five songs from the new album. I was disappointed not to hear “Amsterdam” (could have switched out “Archer’s Arrows,” which doesn’t do it for me), but the rest of the selections from Intriguer were spot on. A nice cameo from Sharon Finn on “Arrows” and “Isolation.”

The surprise was the lack of material from Time on Earth. I wasn’t sorry, having heard much of that album live a few years ago. They did “Don’t Stop Now” and “Heaven That I’m Making.”

The rest was a nice sampling from the rest of the catalog. “Chocolate Cake” rose above its dated lyrics (with help from a funny Lindsay Lohan reference) to provide a spark, while “When You Come” from Temple of Low Men was a treat.  “Fall At Your Feet,” “Don’t Dream It’s Over” and “Weather With You” were predictable singalongs (and the outdoor setting was perfect; everyone could sing along, but our voices rose to the heavens and didn’t drown out the band). The encore was full of hits (at least in the Crowded House universe), with “Locked Out,” “Something So Strong,” “Weather With You” and a closing “Better Be Home Soon.”

So, about that connection thing. Finn and bassist Nick Seymour were witty and chatty as always, playing off of the zoo setting to do animal noises and bird calls, and to speculate about how the animals were responding to the band’s set. Strangely, though, references to the lion’s den in “When You Come” and the entire song “Elephants” were left on the table untouched; too easy, perhaps. The amphitheatre helped with the connection, as it was the most intimate 1,400 seat venue I’ve ever seen. The performance, though marred by a spotty mix at times, was energetic and sounded great. It was more than the reproduction of recorded songs; it was an event.

Regrets are few: I would have loved to hear “Distant Sun,” and seeing the setlist on CrowdedHouse.com that lists “I Got You” and “History Never Repeats” as potential second encore tunes makes me wish the zoo didn’t have a curfew. But those are petty gripes. It was a great show by a great band that, despite a long layoff and a sound far outside the mainstream, is firing on all cylinders.

So, a year ago, I decided to start keeping track of every full album I listened to. I did this in part as justification for my still-insatiable desire to acquire new music decades after my first purchase, and in part to simply help me to see if my actual listening was as broad as my self-image indicates.

The results were interesting. Over the course of an entire year, I listened to 732 full albums. That equates to 61 a month, or almost exactly two per day. That last figure is a bit misleading, as I would often go a day or two without listening to anything all the way through, while other days spent chained to the computer at work would find me spinning five or six.

I set ground rules: These needed to be albums, not EPs or singles. I needed to listen to them in whole. And once something was heard, it couldn’t be listed again, no matter how many repeat plays. So, while I listened to well over 8,000 songs in this exercise, the total is likely double that or more, as hours and hours spent with the iPod on shuffle, repeat listens of favorite discs and partial spins all were omitted from the total.

The most interesting thing I found is that I changed my listening habits because of this exercise. I’m often chided for not listening to things all the way through, often surprised when listening to old discs while distracted by other things to find an uncredited bonus track at the end or some other unknown treasure toward the end of the tracklist. Because I couldn’t record the album on the list unless I heard the whole thing, I forced myself to hear every last note.

I also listened to a lot more new music than I might have otherwise. There were few albums in the past year that earned a rave review anywhere (and that sounded like they would remotely fall in my musical wheelhouse) that I didn’t track down some way and hear. That expanded my palette, as I found myself embracing much more electronic music than ever before, but also led me to confirm the long-held belief that while an awful lot of of well-reviewed music might offer immediate visceral pleasure, they are lacking in the long run and rarely demand a repeat spin.

I set a goal at the beginning of this calendar year to listen to more classical music, hoping to move from completely ignorant to marginally knowledgeable of the genre’s best works. I did better given that concerted effort than I have in the past, but with only 18 classical collections having been played (though, in my defense, some were multi-disc sets), I have a long way to go.

A look at what I listened to the most meshes pretty well with a list of my favorite artists. Push comes to shove, a list of what I would have expected to listen to the most created at the beginning of this exercise would look a lot like the actual result… with a couple of exceptions. First the list:

That’s the top 10. I keep a blog about Robert Pollard’s music, and that coupled with the fact that he puts out 5 or 6 albums a year means he’ll probably always top this list. I’m a huge fan of Crowded House, R.E.M., Teenage Fanclub and Big Star, so those make sense. I got on a serious Steve Wynn kick last year that continues unabated. The Beatles boxed set accounts for their presence here, while reading the 33 1/3 series book on the Minutemen’s Double Nickels on the Dime helps explain their spot. Devo and Richard Thompson were both driven by live shows. However, I hadn’t listened to Devo in years before pulling them out in July, so their strong showing is pretty remarkable. I’m always listening to Thompson, so that’s no surprise.

My year came to a close on July 31. When Aug. 1 rolled around, I listened to a CD and then headed to the computer to record it. A funny thing happened, however; I decided to let it go. I have been listening to things at pretty much the same pace I did before, but in just a few days, I find I’m already more willing to listen to a handful of songs and then swap something out if it’s not working for me. If I can maintain the adventurousness and patience afforded by the exercise while injecting some much-needed flexibility, my listening experience is sure to improve.

A real wish-you-were-there event took place in New Zealand this week as Neil Finn held his second “Seven Worlds Collide” shows. The Crowded House leader first gathered a few famous friends in 2001 for a concert, dubbed “Seven Worlds Collide” after a lyric in his song, “Distant Sun.” That show found the likes of Johnny Marr, Radiohead’s Phil Selway and Ed O’Brien, Lisa Germano and Eddie Vedder joining Finn for a few songs from his catalog and their own. The result was a great live DVD and CD.

Since, Finn has resurrected Crowded House and seemingly left his solo career behind for a bit. But with this second “Seven Worlds Collide” show, he steps back out on his own, with a lot of help. The Radiohead boys are back, as is Marr. Added to the mix are 4/5 of Wilco, Bic Runga, KT Tunstall and Finn’s son, Liam Finn, a budding star in his own right.

The group performed three shows and then plan to go into Finn’s Roundhead Studios in Auckland to cut an album that’s due yet this year. According to reviews, the shows have been predictibly great. YouTube has a few videos, such as Jeff Tweedy singing Radiohead’s “Fake Plastic Trees” and Radiohead drummer Selway singing a song of his own. Can’t wait for the CD/DVD, the proceeds of which will support Oxfam.