Sun Kil Moon- April
Mark Kolelek makes beautiful music and then tries to keep in this world. That’s why his songs are so long. That’s why the guitars snake through multiple musical savannahs while his mumbles never leave first gear. Stuck in a perpetual movie flashback, April is sepia toned and aching for a time that may never have even existed. But he makes you believe that he misses it. It may not be his finest hour (that’s probably- although hopefully not- going to be a split between Ghosts of the Great Old Highway and Old Ramon) but it’s as affecting and the way that you wish every moment of beauty was- evocative and slow to leave.
Jenny Lewis- Acid Tongue.
Lewis’ music- be it coked out Rilo Kiley rock or barnstomping solo country- has always had a attitude that sat somewhere between sexy exuberance and a maudlin understanding of the world. After trying to sellout in her day job (Rilo Kiley) with last year’s Under the Blacklight, Acid Tongue finds Lewis still shifting her time between the two perspectives. Less of a traditionalist than on the religious talk fest Rabbit Fur Coat, her sound as eclectic as it is consistent. Black Sand is a solo approximation of last years Black Light sound, while the shit kicking Carpetbaggers features a an ever rambling Elvis Costello and a ‘Hey Boy’ vocal that makes knees go weak. The album’s highlight is the Americana soaked title track, a tale of drug use, love and regret that perfectly encapsulates the two sides of Lewis’ music.
The Hold Steady- Stay Positive.
If you’ve only heard of The Hold Steady, then you’d probably be justified in not liking them- or at least being skeptical of their success. New Yorkers playing Springsteen style rock led by a balding late-thirties singer obsessed with the lives of the young and reckless sounds like a soundtrack to a jail sentence- or at the very least looking like the creepy old dude who hangs out at high school parties.
Then the guitars and keyboards make an E-Street wall of sound while lyricist Craig Finn’s characters spout wisdom that belies their age, and it becomes clear that the Hold Steady are really fucking good. The two parts work perfectly together- the music would be cliché without Finn’s recklessness, and Finn would be a leering creep obsessed with youthful dreams without the band holding him steady (ha!).
There’s nothing really original about the coursing Stay Positive, but there’s nothing fake about it either.
Drive By Truckers- Brighter than Light’s Creation
Nobody expects a southern rock album to be moody. They want to know what kind of alcohol to drink (moonshine) and to be reassured that you know, sometimes a jive talkin’ woman has it coming. But then a song like Two Daughters and a Wife –which, if you’ll excuse my lack of purple prose, is absolutely fucking beautiful- comes along. While the southern standards are still upheld, the album preaches as hard as hard as it rocks- The Man I Shot is one of the first songs to actually discuss the Iraq War, while Bob humanizes the crazy guy in your neighborhood.
Conor Oberst- Self Titled
If Conor Oberst had to grow up sometime. The Bright Eyes material was (is?) good, but the doe eyed cooing had started to wear a little thin. Cue a solo CD, a roadtrip and a set of songs that evokes rather than tears down- it turns out Oberst loves America, he just had to leave it realize it. Souled Out thumps with distorted conviction, while Moab builds like a looming storm to it’s bridge, where Oberst deftly weaves the album’s best lyrics into thirty seconds of self doubt,
If Bright Eyes was Holden Caulfield- young and with unfulfillable expectations- then Oberst’s solo work is Sal Paradise- brimming with hope restlessness and the American dream.
She and Him- Volume 1
It’s easy to be critical at the concept of She and Him. Cute actress teams up with indie talent to get the haters onside. The story is nothing new.
But what it lacks in conceptual originality it makes up for direction. It’s probably not a surprise that Zooey Deschenal first record is layered with old timey sounds – she’s always had an aura of being born forty years too late- more pinup girl than Maxim Model. Add in M.Wards rustic production to her multitracked vocals and the album stands out like a dug up time capsule.
Death Cab for Cutie- Narrow Stairs
Narrow Stairs wasn’t the change we thought it was going to be- but that doesn’t mean that Death Cab was lying to us. What substituted a change in the creative process may not always cross over to the listener. What they delivered ended up being a pretty good approximation of what Death Cab’s two eras would sound like mashed up. Grapevine Fires features some of Ben Gibbard’s most humbling and mature songwriting yet, while the drums of Pity and Fear thump like heads after a night of mistakes.
Okkervil River- The Stand Ins
Will Sheff and company’s second foray into everything entertainment related is more vitriolic than the first. Pop lie is an attack (or discussion?) on the fibs that pop music tell (ironically with its own catchy power chord and hand clap chorus) while Singer-songwriter flames with contempt as Sheff reels off clichés . But the record is still full of stirring moments- take the first minute of On Tour With Zykos which covers the last minutes of a tour-bus relationship. Equal parts cathartic and angry, the lone morse code piano sounds like it’s drifting down the road with the protagonist’s ex lover.
It maybe strays a little further from the concept of show business than The Stage Names (Is all of life a stage? Is he making some kind of existential comment? ), but who’s complaining when it results in songs like Lost Coastlines?
Ryan Adams- Cardinology
In lieu of writing a review, here is an interpretive rap about Cardinology.
Wecome to quotations dot com (dot com!)
Wecome to quotations dot com (we is real muthafucka!)
Cat’s trippin on Cardinology (say what?)
Talkin like they owe Mr Adam’s an apology (kneel muthafuckas!)
Dude ain’t scared of witches now he’s sober
And it’s turning out fine like a bitch who’s bent over.
He be turning out records once a year they be solid
Dropping the ill bombs like everybody always wanted
He’s thinking about people other than himself when he’s writing
And if he did the same when he was wanking he’d be fine
Wecome to quotations dot com (dot com!)
Wecome to quotations dot com (we is real muthafucka!)
Repeat and write three albums in the time it takes to fade out
Blind Pilot
Blind Pilot most endearing feature isn’t their Lo-Fi minimalism, but rather how close it strays into Late 70’s AOR Pop. The guitar’s never ending strum and laid back vocals breeze through the songs with an ease that’s been ignored for decades. While the determined drums of Go on Say it or BLAH may argue otherwise, the albums default setting is acoustic sensitivity with a hefty dash of Yacht Rock. The songs weaves in tiny seconds of a relationship into a tapestry, and they’re so endearing that you kind of wish you were a part of them (even though it may make you a little bit gay).
Finally, we can use the term ‘Bread-like’ without it having negative connotations*
*For the record, I fucking LOVE BREAD.
No comments:
Post a Comment