My 2013 Top Ten Albums:
The Final Countdown
Last day of the year. The wrapping paper's all gone into the trash compactor, the needles are already dropping from the tree, and even the dog doesn't want what's left of the turkey carcass. You're grudgingly facing the forced hilarity of the evening ahead, and the hangover that may come with it. The holiday spirit tank has almost run out of gas.
But damn it, you didn't get enough new CDs this year, and maybe you're thinking about going into a record shop -- or failing that, on line -- to treat yourself to the tunes YOU want. So here's a little shopping guide.
A few things to note: This list is in no particular order, other than the order I wrote these posts in. (Click on the titles to go to my reviews.) Having culled these 10 albums from the barrage of new releases, I couldn't discriminate any further. I apologize in advance to Kasey Kasem (I almost wrote, "the ghost of Kasey Kasem," but I see he's still alive), who always delivered a definitive #1 song on the New Year's Eve "Kasey's Coast-to-Coast" countdown I listened to so ardently as a pre-teen.
Looking back on my choices, I notice a significant tilt towards twang. (Say that three times, fast.) I used to declare, growing up in Indianapolis, how much I hated country music. Well, I still don't like mainstream commercial country music, but I can't deny my fondness for Americana, roots, whatever you like to call it. So be it.
As for the rest -- I think you'll find almost no overlap between this and Amazon Top 100 albums of 2013, or iTunes's Top 100 album picks of the year, or the New York Times' Best of 2013 list. But then, that's why you need this list instead.
The Wood Brothers -- Muse
Listen to Muse
The Avett Brothers -- Magpie and the Dandelion
Listen to Magpie and the Dandelion
Amos Lee -- Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song
Listen to Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song
Robyn Hitchcock -- Love From London
Listen to Love from London
Chris Stamey -- Lovesick Blues
Listen to Lovesick Blues
Greg Trooper -- Incident on Willow Street
Listen to Incident on Willow Street
Arcade Fire -- Reflektor
Listen to Reflektor
The Mavericks -- In Time
Listen to In Time
Willie Nile -- American Ride
Listen to American Ride
Billy Bragg -- Tooth & Nail
Listen to Tooth & Nail
And a VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
Showing posts with label amos lee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amos lee. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
My 2013 Top Ten Albums
Amos Lee -- Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song
"The Man Who Wants You"
I just saw Amos Lee perform last week, as part of the WFUV Holiday Show -- which, yes, I went to because Nick Lowe was on the bill (knee-jerk fangirl that I am), but having Amos, Glen Hansard, and Calexico there too was icing on the cake. And when the assorted artists collected to sing together, whose voice rose above all the others, with a distinctive timbre like honey on toast? Man, can that cat Amos Lee sing.
I can say with pride that I've been a fan since his 2005 debut album, which is when I first saw Amos in concert (down at the borderline grubby Irving Plaza), and I've bought every record he's made since then. I like my soul music with a folky country twang, or perhaps I like my roots-rock drenched in soul -- whatever the equation, that's what Amos Lee consistently delivers. I buy Amos Lee records the minute they're released, without even listening to sample tracks. I just know I'm going to like them, not only because of his heavenly voice but because he's also a solid songwriter and has pitch-perfect musical taste. And he hasn't let me down yet.
Truth to tell, I've been getting a little nervous, figuring that at some point Amos is going to either A) hit the big-time and get slick, or B) go spectacularly off track and try a new sound I can't stand. When I read that he'd gone to Nashville to record this new album, I began to worry that B) was going to happen. But never fear -- while Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song flirts a little more with a country sound, throwing in some pedal steel and dobro and gospel choruses, he still stays true to his core musical values.
Which means adding a little Philly-style funk to the honky-tonk -- call it funky-tonk, if you will...
She may be (probably is) married to someone else, or at least involved with someone else, and he's gentleman enough to bow to that. (Do we not love that, ladies?) "I don't want you to be untrue," he declares in the chorus -- knowing that we're always suckers for good manners. But clearly she can't be satisfied with that other guy, because he knows in his bones that she'd be happier with him, for one incontrovertible reason -- because "the truth is, I'm the man who wants you." I don't know about you, but I find that a devastating argument.
Okay, so he's already barged in on the other guy's territory ("I'm gonna keep you company until the morning light") -- that's a mere technicality. The point is, this girl still needs a bit of persuading. And in the currency of pop music, what better persuader is there than a silky-sweet syncopated tenor with just enough grit at the edges to give it raw power?
I love the fact that Amos Lee has stayed just under the radar (depending on where your radar is trained), working with the people he admires, not getting sucked into the celebrity star-making machine. He's got talent up the wazoo, but some instinct of tact and taste --- yes, and maybe of self-doubt, which could also be called self-preservation -- keeps him from cashing in big-time. I admire that. May you stay true forever, Amos.
"The Man Who Wants You"
I just saw Amos Lee perform last week, as part of the WFUV Holiday Show -- which, yes, I went to because Nick Lowe was on the bill (knee-jerk fangirl that I am), but having Amos, Glen Hansard, and Calexico there too was icing on the cake. And when the assorted artists collected to sing together, whose voice rose above all the others, with a distinctive timbre like honey on toast? Man, can that cat Amos Lee sing.
I can say with pride that I've been a fan since his 2005 debut album, which is when I first saw Amos in concert (down at the borderline grubby Irving Plaza), and I've bought every record he's made since then. I like my soul music with a folky country twang, or perhaps I like my roots-rock drenched in soul -- whatever the equation, that's what Amos Lee consistently delivers. I buy Amos Lee records the minute they're released, without even listening to sample tracks. I just know I'm going to like them, not only because of his heavenly voice but because he's also a solid songwriter and has pitch-perfect musical taste. And he hasn't let me down yet.
Truth to tell, I've been getting a little nervous, figuring that at some point Amos is going to either A) hit the big-time and get slick, or B) go spectacularly off track and try a new sound I can't stand. When I read that he'd gone to Nashville to record this new album, I began to worry that B) was going to happen. But never fear -- while Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song flirts a little more with a country sound, throwing in some pedal steel and dobro and gospel choruses, he still stays true to his core musical values.
Which means adding a little Philly-style funk to the honky-tonk -- call it funky-tonk, if you will...
Now, is this song sexy or what? Normally Amos goes in more for the mournful break-up songs, the lost-soul plaints, the coolly detached free-spirit anthems, the political commentaries, but there is no question what this track is about: He's got a woman in his sights and he would like to close the deal.
She may be (probably is) married to someone else, or at least involved with someone else, and he's gentleman enough to bow to that. (Do we not love that, ladies?) "I don't want you to be untrue," he declares in the chorus -- knowing that we're always suckers for good manners. But clearly she can't be satisfied with that other guy, because he knows in his bones that she'd be happier with him, for one incontrovertible reason -- because "the truth is, I'm the man who wants you." I don't know about you, but I find that a devastating argument.
Okay, so he's already barged in on the other guy's territory ("I'm gonna keep you company until the morning light") -- that's a mere technicality. The point is, this girl still needs a bit of persuading. And in the currency of pop music, what better persuader is there than a silky-sweet syncopated tenor with just enough grit at the edges to give it raw power?
I love the fact that Amos Lee has stayed just under the radar (depending on where your radar is trained), working with the people he admires, not getting sucked into the celebrity star-making machine. He's got talent up the wazoo, but some instinct of tact and taste --- yes, and maybe of self-doubt, which could also be called self-preservation -- keeps him from cashing in big-time. I admire that. May you stay true forever, Amos.
Monday, February 07, 2011
"Hello Again" / Amos Lee
You know, I'm not the chick you'd usually come to for a review of the nation's #1 best-selling album. 2011's been a little surprising in that respect, though. First there was the Decemberists' The King Is Dead
(yeah, I'll get around to that eventually), and now here's this unassuming and utterly charming album from Amos Lee, Mission Bell
.
Granted, it was noteworthy as one of the lowest-selling #1 albums in recent memory -- America's record companies are still going downhill faster than a soapbox derby racer. Nevertheless, nothing else sold better the last week of January, and that's a beacon of hope. Keep this up, America, and I'm going to have to retract all those nasty things I've said about mass market tastes.
Here's my review of the album on blogcritics (I'm still waiting for my one dissenting reader to come back and explain himself). Two weeks later, "Hello Again" is the track that keeps haunting me. That groovy samba rhythm isn't typical Amos Lee, but its mellow-yet-mournful mood sure is. There's always a faint depressive gloom hanging over his songs, which he smoothly sells as sensitive-guy emotionality. I do recognize the formula, but hey, it works for me.
If you're going to write a kiss-off song -- and this is definitely a kiss-off song ("You used to be so beautiful / But you lost it somewhere along the way") -- you've got two moods to choose from: vengeful anger or disappointed regret. Lee goes for the second one, jacking it up with a minor key and his most heartfelt plaintive vocals. That sigh of regret is a shrewd choice, because -- let's face it -- the kiss-off song really isn't always aimed at the girl he's breaking up with. Sometimes it's aimed at the next girl waiting in the wings: The Lady Listener, perhaps? I can't identify with his "you" (I've never hurt Amos Lee, have I?), but it's incredibly easy to slip myself into the scenario by contrast. And in this song, Amos sets himself up as an almost ideal potential boyfriend -- a guy who wants to be in love, but isn't carrying a torch for his ex.
Amos Lee's voice isn't just beautiful, it's beautiful in a particularly passionate way -- the soul half of his folk-soul dialectic. I find it really remarkable how he pulls this off without sounding sappy or cheesy. I'd never thought of him as the heir to Stevie Wonder before, but this song goes for emotional broke in the same sincere way that Stevie made his trademark. Kudos, Amos!
The thing that Mission Bell adds to the Amos Lee formula is more instrumental texture, and I love the extra shadings on this track -- the tango piano, the wind-down-the-canyon whistle of a theremin, the conquistador trumpet in the break. For a Philly guy, he's done a remarkable job here of capturing the mood of a spaghetti Western. Somehow he layers that Clint Eastwood identity, the strong-but-silent guy with a history, on top of his sensitive troubadour act -- and miraculously, it sticks.
I'm not going to pretend that this isn't fairly mainstream stuff; it's not as if Robyn Hitchcock or Jonathan Richman or Graham Parker suddenly blazed onto the charts. Still, there's real musicianship here, and a fair amount of integrity. At least I feel Amos Lee believes what he's singing, in a way that I never believe John Mayer does. To have that rewarded with a #1 record -- well, that's something.
You know, I'm not the chick you'd usually come to for a review of the nation's #1 best-selling album. 2011's been a little surprising in that respect, though. First there was the Decemberists' The King Is Dead
(yeah, I'll get around to that eventually), and now here's this unassuming and utterly charming album from Amos Lee, Mission Bell.Granted, it was noteworthy as one of the lowest-selling #1 albums in recent memory -- America's record companies are still going downhill faster than a soapbox derby racer. Nevertheless, nothing else sold better the last week of January, and that's a beacon of hope. Keep this up, America, and I'm going to have to retract all those nasty things I've said about mass market tastes.
Here's my review of the album on blogcritics (I'm still waiting for my one dissenting reader to come back and explain himself). Two weeks later, "Hello Again" is the track that keeps haunting me. That groovy samba rhythm isn't typical Amos Lee, but its mellow-yet-mournful mood sure is. There's always a faint depressive gloom hanging over his songs, which he smoothly sells as sensitive-guy emotionality. I do recognize the formula, but hey, it works for me.
If you're going to write a kiss-off song -- and this is definitely a kiss-off song ("You used to be so beautiful / But you lost it somewhere along the way") -- you've got two moods to choose from: vengeful anger or disappointed regret. Lee goes for the second one, jacking it up with a minor key and his most heartfelt plaintive vocals. That sigh of regret is a shrewd choice, because -- let's face it -- the kiss-off song really isn't always aimed at the girl he's breaking up with. Sometimes it's aimed at the next girl waiting in the wings: The Lady Listener, perhaps? I can't identify with his "you" (I've never hurt Amos Lee, have I?), but it's incredibly easy to slip myself into the scenario by contrast. And in this song, Amos sets himself up as an almost ideal potential boyfriend -- a guy who wants to be in love, but isn't carrying a torch for his ex.
Amos Lee's voice isn't just beautiful, it's beautiful in a particularly passionate way -- the soul half of his folk-soul dialectic. I find it really remarkable how he pulls this off without sounding sappy or cheesy. I'd never thought of him as the heir to Stevie Wonder before, but this song goes for emotional broke in the same sincere way that Stevie made his trademark. Kudos, Amos!
The thing that Mission Bell adds to the Amos Lee formula is more instrumental texture, and I love the extra shadings on this track -- the tango piano, the wind-down-the-canyon whistle of a theremin, the conquistador trumpet in the break. For a Philly guy, he's done a remarkable job here of capturing the mood of a spaghetti Western. Somehow he layers that Clint Eastwood identity, the strong-but-silent guy with a history, on top of his sensitive troubadour act -- and miraculously, it sticks.
I'm not going to pretend that this isn't fairly mainstream stuff; it's not as if Robyn Hitchcock or Jonathan Richman or Graham Parker suddenly blazed onto the charts. Still, there's real musicianship here, and a fair amount of integrity. At least I feel Amos Lee believes what he's singing, in a way that I never believe John Mayer does. To have that rewarded with a #1 record -- well, that's something.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
WEDNESDAY SHUFFLE
Getting this in by the skin of my teeth -- 11:59 E.D.T. -- but so long as I'm starting it on Wednesday....
1. "Muswell Hillbilly" / Tim O'Brien
From This Is Where I Belong: The Songs of Ray Davies (2002)
This is what I get for buying every single Kinks tribute album that's ever been releasaed. But I do love O'Brien's totally country rendition of this title track to my all-time favorite Kinks album -- tons of fiddle and banjo, just like Ray imagined it in the first place. It's a totally credible country track: "They're gonna make me study elocution / Because they say my accent isn't right / Well, they may try to change my way of living / But they're never gonna kill my Cockney pride" -- you tell 'em, Brother Ray!
2. "More Than Sorry" / Ben Harper
From Both Sides of the Gun (2006)
I've seen this guy live a couple of times, and he always brings down the house. His sound is a little too chameleon-like -- the downside of being such a versatile talent -- I'm always surprised when it comes up and I check to see that it's Ben Harper singing. He's not rocking out so much on this one -- it's more acoustic and folky, which suits Harper's Cat Stevens-like voice. Tryin' SO hard to get that girl to accept his apology...
3. "Don't Disappear Now" / Marshall Crenshaw
From Life's Too Short (1991)
"We didn't stop making love for thirty-one days" -- that deeply sexy line always ambushes me in this superb MC track, tucked away on yet another neglected album. Crunchy guitars, smackin' drums, and Marshall's pleading vocals -- pure rock and roll, in its finest distilled form.
4. "Shout" / The Isley Brothers
From Instant Party Disc Regular Strength (compilation)
Every once in a while it's instructive to hear a vintage track like this -- 1959 fer crissakes! -- and realize that we have invented nothing in the past 50 years. Tempo changes, call and response, maniac whoops and hollers, and best of all, the "Little bit softer now part" where the whole thing dwindles down to a whisper, only to come whomping back full force -- "A little bit louder now!" Who can hear this without getting out on that dance floor?
5. "Santa Bring My Baby Back" / Marshall Crenshaw
From MC Rarities (compilation)
Okay, now you know what a Marshall Crenshaw geek I am. Some other Crenhead sent me this compilation of odds and sods, and the whole bit went straight onto my iTunes. But come on, you gotta love a track like this -- the sort of Christmas novelty tune that every band used to record way back when. Marshall's just having loads of fun, speeding through this peppy holiday tune -- and you can't help having fun with him.
6. "Solid Air" / John Martyn
From Solid Air (1973)
If I hadn't been reviewing records for my college newspaper, I'd never have discovered the amazing English folk-jazz virtuoso John Martyn. Hard to believe that I got this record for free, way back when. Talk about timeless music -- you can sink right into the plush environment of guitar + keyboards + sax and get lost in Martyn's vocal ramblings. Where is it going? Who cares?
7. "When I Was King" / Graham Parker
From Struck By Lightning (1991)
C'mon -- you just have to laugh, and then marvel over the songwriting abilities of Mr. Graham Parker. I can't even tell you how many amazing turns of phrase Graham stuffs into this sharp satiric number, along with a compelling guitar riff and infectious reggae rhythm. Exhibit X in the case for naming Graham Parker Neglected Genius of the Year.
8. "Give It Up" / Amos Lee
From Amos Lee (2005)
This is how you update Philly soul for the indie crowd. That funky organ and chunky guitar, topped off with Amos Lee's mellifluous vocals. "But I would give it all up for you / Yes I would give it up, settle down, stop fuckin' round." Sounds like a contract worth signing.
9. "She's About a Mover" / Sir Douglas Quintet
From The Complete Mercury Masters (compilation)
Well, hell -- it's 1965, and all the kids seem to be listening to these British Invasion Bands, so why not toss out a loveable little tune "in the style of"? Doug Sahm was really from Texas, not Liverpool -- but if that's the sound you want, the insanely versatile Sahm could turn it out, with a side note of grunge and psychedelia.
10. "Mixed Greens" / Jim Ford
From The Sounds of Our Time (compilation)
Okay, so I bought this record just because Nick Lowe said Jim Ford was one of his musical heroes. What really matters is how much I loved it once I owned it. Loungey 1970s country-soul with a particularly laidback, loose vibe -- nobody nailed this better than Jim Ford. Another neglected genius.
Getting this in by the skin of my teeth -- 11:59 E.D.T. -- but so long as I'm starting it on Wednesday....
1. "Muswell Hillbilly" / Tim O'Brien
From This Is Where I Belong: The Songs of Ray Davies (2002)
This is what I get for buying every single Kinks tribute album that's ever been releasaed. But I do love O'Brien's totally country rendition of this title track to my all-time favorite Kinks album -- tons of fiddle and banjo, just like Ray imagined it in the first place. It's a totally credible country track: "They're gonna make me study elocution / Because they say my accent isn't right / Well, they may try to change my way of living / But they're never gonna kill my Cockney pride" -- you tell 'em, Brother Ray!
2. "More Than Sorry" / Ben Harper
From Both Sides of the Gun (2006)
I've seen this guy live a couple of times, and he always brings down the house. His sound is a little too chameleon-like -- the downside of being such a versatile talent -- I'm always surprised when it comes up and I check to see that it's Ben Harper singing. He's not rocking out so much on this one -- it's more acoustic and folky, which suits Harper's Cat Stevens-like voice. Tryin' SO hard to get that girl to accept his apology...
3. "Don't Disappear Now" / Marshall Crenshaw
From Life's Too Short (1991)
"We didn't stop making love for thirty-one days" -- that deeply sexy line always ambushes me in this superb MC track, tucked away on yet another neglected album. Crunchy guitars, smackin' drums, and Marshall's pleading vocals -- pure rock and roll, in its finest distilled form.
4. "Shout" / The Isley Brothers
From Instant Party Disc Regular Strength (compilation)
Every once in a while it's instructive to hear a vintage track like this -- 1959 fer crissakes! -- and realize that we have invented nothing in the past 50 years. Tempo changes, call and response, maniac whoops and hollers, and best of all, the "Little bit softer now part" where the whole thing dwindles down to a whisper, only to come whomping back full force -- "A little bit louder now!" Who can hear this without getting out on that dance floor?
5. "Santa Bring My Baby Back" / Marshall Crenshaw
From MC Rarities (compilation)
Okay, now you know what a Marshall Crenshaw geek I am. Some other Crenhead sent me this compilation of odds and sods, and the whole bit went straight onto my iTunes. But come on, you gotta love a track like this -- the sort of Christmas novelty tune that every band used to record way back when. Marshall's just having loads of fun, speeding through this peppy holiday tune -- and you can't help having fun with him.
6. "Solid Air" / John Martyn
From Solid Air (1973)
If I hadn't been reviewing records for my college newspaper, I'd never have discovered the amazing English folk-jazz virtuoso John Martyn. Hard to believe that I got this record for free, way back when. Talk about timeless music -- you can sink right into the plush environment of guitar + keyboards + sax and get lost in Martyn's vocal ramblings. Where is it going? Who cares?
7. "When I Was King" / Graham Parker
From Struck By Lightning (1991)
C'mon -- you just have to laugh, and then marvel over the songwriting abilities of Mr. Graham Parker. I can't even tell you how many amazing turns of phrase Graham stuffs into this sharp satiric number, along with a compelling guitar riff and infectious reggae rhythm. Exhibit X in the case for naming Graham Parker Neglected Genius of the Year.
8. "Give It Up" / Amos Lee
From Amos Lee (2005)
This is how you update Philly soul for the indie crowd. That funky organ and chunky guitar, topped off with Amos Lee's mellifluous vocals. "But I would give it all up for you / Yes I would give it up, settle down, stop fuckin' round." Sounds like a contract worth signing.
9. "She's About a Mover" / Sir Douglas Quintet
From The Complete Mercury Masters (compilation)
Well, hell -- it's 1965, and all the kids seem to be listening to these British Invasion Bands, so why not toss out a loveable little tune "in the style of"? Doug Sahm was really from Texas, not Liverpool -- but if that's the sound you want, the insanely versatile Sahm could turn it out, with a side note of grunge and psychedelia.
10. "Mixed Greens" / Jim Ford
From The Sounds of Our Time (compilation)
Okay, so I bought this record just because Nick Lowe said Jim Ford was one of his musical heroes. What really matters is how much I loved it once I owned it. Loungey 1970s country-soul with a particularly laidback, loose vibe -- nobody nailed this better than Jim Ford. Another neglected genius.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
“Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight” / Amos Lee
Sometimes it pays to take a blind chance. I bought the 2005 album Amos Lee after seeing an ad in The Oxford American’s excellent annual music issue; whatever that ad promised, it made me curious, and I was in the mood for something new. The minute I slid that CD into my stereo system and heard “Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight,” I knew I’d hit the jackpot.
Amos first got “discovered” opening for Norah Jones, and he’s been lucky enough to piggyback on her success. Like hers, his music straddles a lot of genres: folk, rock, gospel, blues, country, even funk and ragtime. And like Norah Jones, Amos Lee could be called middle-of-the-road. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, shoot me now.) His approach is sensitive but not confessional, uplifting but not overtly spiritual, politically liberal but not confrontational. But his music is also incredibly tuneful, rhythmic, and above all sincere – and that counts for a lot with me. The arrangements are tactful, low-key, with just a few musicians and no fancy studio effects. And then there’s Amos’s supple, mellow, earnest voice -- for that alone I could listen to this music for hours.
Yeah, there are some politics in “Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight” -- but who could argue with lines like, “But the people on the street / Out on buses or on feet / We all got the same blood flow.” Besides, this all-men-are-brothers philosophy totally rings true, coming from a multi-racial dude who grew up poor in a tough Philly neighborhood. I like to think that this track's loping rhythms and laid-back acoustic arrangement are the “keep it loose” half of the equation, while Amos’ glorious scat-like singing is the “keep it tight” half.
To me, this song is all about striking balance, learning how to find your equilibrium, whether it’s an uncomfortable encounter with the landlord or a hopeless affection for a girl who may not be faithful to him (“I’m in love with a girl who’s in love with the world / Though I can’t help but follow”). Whichever he’s facing, Amos reasons, he needs to learn to let go, not to pin his heart on false dreams – those “over the rainbow” illusions society sells us. Don’t expect him to rage against anything; that’s not Amos Lee’s style. He’ll just shimmy his voice over the rainbow for a wistful moment, then slide back down to earth.
Lyrics? Usually I’m drawn to clever lyrics, but Amos Lee tends to be more inarticulate and vague -- that’s the way people talk when they’re sincere, after all. Still, there are some subtle beauties if you listen carefully. I love the bridge, where the song completely hushes down to focus attention on Amos' nugget of wisdom. The first time around, pondering the lust for fame and fortune, he advises us, “Sometimes we forget what we got / Who we are, and who we are not”; but the second time around, just by changing a few pronouns, it becomes a statement about not trying to own the people you love: “Sometimes we forget who we got / Who they are, or who they are not.” His voice hovers so tenderly over these simple words, it goes straight to my heart. That’s the kind of gold worth finding.
www.amoslee.com
Sometimes it pays to take a blind chance. I bought the 2005 album Amos Lee after seeing an ad in The Oxford American’s excellent annual music issue; whatever that ad promised, it made me curious, and I was in the mood for something new. The minute I slid that CD into my stereo system and heard “Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight,” I knew I’d hit the jackpot.
Amos first got “discovered” opening for Norah Jones, and he’s been lucky enough to piggyback on her success. Like hers, his music straddles a lot of genres: folk, rock, gospel, blues, country, even funk and ragtime. And like Norah Jones, Amos Lee could be called middle-of-the-road. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, shoot me now.) His approach is sensitive but not confessional, uplifting but not overtly spiritual, politically liberal but not confrontational. But his music is also incredibly tuneful, rhythmic, and above all sincere – and that counts for a lot with me. The arrangements are tactful, low-key, with just a few musicians and no fancy studio effects. And then there’s Amos’s supple, mellow, earnest voice -- for that alone I could listen to this music for hours.
Yeah, there are some politics in “Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight” -- but who could argue with lines like, “But the people on the street / Out on buses or on feet / We all got the same blood flow.” Besides, this all-men-are-brothers philosophy totally rings true, coming from a multi-racial dude who grew up poor in a tough Philly neighborhood. I like to think that this track's loping rhythms and laid-back acoustic arrangement are the “keep it loose” half of the equation, while Amos’ glorious scat-like singing is the “keep it tight” half.
To me, this song is all about striking balance, learning how to find your equilibrium, whether it’s an uncomfortable encounter with the landlord or a hopeless affection for a girl who may not be faithful to him (“I’m in love with a girl who’s in love with the world / Though I can’t help but follow”). Whichever he’s facing, Amos reasons, he needs to learn to let go, not to pin his heart on false dreams – those “over the rainbow” illusions society sells us. Don’t expect him to rage against anything; that’s not Amos Lee’s style. He’ll just shimmy his voice over the rainbow for a wistful moment, then slide back down to earth.
Lyrics? Usually I’m drawn to clever lyrics, but Amos Lee tends to be more inarticulate and vague -- that’s the way people talk when they’re sincere, after all. Still, there are some subtle beauties if you listen carefully. I love the bridge, where the song completely hushes down to focus attention on Amos' nugget of wisdom. The first time around, pondering the lust for fame and fortune, he advises us, “Sometimes we forget what we got / Who we are, and who we are not”; but the second time around, just by changing a few pronouns, it becomes a statement about not trying to own the people you love: “Sometimes we forget who we got / Who they are, or who they are not.” His voice hovers so tenderly over these simple words, it goes straight to my heart. That’s the kind of gold worth finding.
www.amoslee.com
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