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 avett brothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label avett brothers. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
My 2013 Top Ten Albums
The Avett Brothers -- Magpie and the Dandelion
"Morning Song"
Okay, I take it back. Even if the Avett Brothers do overshadow the Wood Brothers, I still love them, and I'm thrilled that they keep releasing albums at such a pace -- why, weren't they on this list just last year?
Now let's keep all the Americana kids straight -- Mumford & Sons feature a banjo, and the Lumineers have a cello, but the Avetts give us both, a yearning deep cello groove with the bluegrassy banjo chattering away on top. The Wood Brothers have Oliver Wood's distinctive vocals, but the Avetts double up with two brothers trading lead vocals, Seth's sweet and tender voice playing against Scott's earnest grit. They've got an impressively versatile sound, while always staying in the Americana wheelhouse; they rock things out when they want to, but it always feels authentic and handmade, which IMHO is a good thing.
If anything, 2013's Magpie and the Dandelion feels more personal than last year's The Carpenter, giving us a window onto lives lived, hurts weathered, and happiness found. Many of the songs are about relationships, which as you all know is a whole lot different than being generic love songs. There's the gobsmacked-by-love Never Been Alive and the hopeful new beginning of Bring Your Love To Me, counterbalanced by the feisty Another Is Waiting and the humble apology of "Good To You." But the one I can't get out of my head is "Morning Song":
We're definitely in heartbreak territory, from the very first line's mournful yelp: "Hurts so bad / You don't come around here anymore." If this were a song about pain and rage, we'd stay there. But it isn't; it's about coping and moving on, finding the light at the end of the tunnel (the "morning" of the title). In other words, Music for Grownups.
The song doesn't downplay how rough his dark night of the soul has been -- "I've been thinking / About drinking again," he confesses; in the third verse, things dial down to bare acoustic to reprise that opening line with the ruefully rambling "Hurts so bad / More than I expected that it would / Worse than that, it seems be / Lasting just a little longer than it should." This thing has really knocked him off his pins.
But he's started to get some perspective on his infatuation, remembering in retrospect how "The magpie on the wire warned of love." (Always a good sign when you find the album title embedded in a lyric.) And as the song moves on, his focus is less on her and more on pulling himself back together, underscored on the album track with a determined drum kick and testifying organ. No trying to win her back, no rehashing the break-up itself; it's done, it's over, and he's accepted that. Now where does he go from here?
There's still a sniping edge of blame in the refrain: "It's all right if you finally stop caring / Just don't go and tell someone that does." He's been left holding the bag of love, and that's painful; there'll be a scar there, making it harder to risk his emotions the next time.
But he knows that nobody else can fix this for him -- he's got to "do the work," as shrinks are fond of saying. "Even though I know there's hope in every morning song / You have to find that melody alone." That word "alone" is packed with double meaning -- alone as in "find it for yourself," yeah, but also alone as in "lonely." (Though the backing vocals signal that he's not as alone as he thinks.) Bottom line: it's hard to "do the work" when you're still wounded, but suck it up -- this is life.
Like I said, Music for Grownups. Love it, love it, love it.
"Morning Song"
Okay, I take it back. Even if the Avett Brothers do overshadow the Wood Brothers, I still love them, and I'm thrilled that they keep releasing albums at such a pace -- why, weren't they on this list just last year?
Now let's keep all the Americana kids straight -- Mumford & Sons feature a banjo, and the Lumineers have a cello, but the Avetts give us both, a yearning deep cello groove with the bluegrassy banjo chattering away on top. The Wood Brothers have Oliver Wood's distinctive vocals, but the Avetts double up with two brothers trading lead vocals, Seth's sweet and tender voice playing against Scott's earnest grit. They've got an impressively versatile sound, while always staying in the Americana wheelhouse; they rock things out when they want to, but it always feels authentic and handmade, which IMHO is a good thing.
If anything, 2013's Magpie and the Dandelion feels more personal than last year's The Carpenter, giving us a window onto lives lived, hurts weathered, and happiness found. Many of the songs are about relationships, which as you all know is a whole lot different than being generic love songs. There's the gobsmacked-by-love Never Been Alive and the hopeful new beginning of Bring Your Love To Me, counterbalanced by the feisty Another Is Waiting and the humble apology of "Good To You." But the one I can't get out of my head is "Morning Song":
We're definitely in heartbreak territory, from the very first line's mournful yelp: "Hurts so bad / You don't come around here anymore." If this were a song about pain and rage, we'd stay there. But it isn't; it's about coping and moving on, finding the light at the end of the tunnel (the "morning" of the title). In other words, Music for Grownups.
The song doesn't downplay how rough his dark night of the soul has been -- "I've been thinking / About drinking again," he confesses; in the third verse, things dial down to bare acoustic to reprise that opening line with the ruefully rambling "Hurts so bad / More than I expected that it would / Worse than that, it seems be / Lasting just a little longer than it should." This thing has really knocked him off his pins.
But he's started to get some perspective on his infatuation, remembering in retrospect how "The magpie on the wire warned of love." (Always a good sign when you find the album title embedded in a lyric.) And as the song moves on, his focus is less on her and more on pulling himself back together, underscored on the album track with a determined drum kick and testifying organ. No trying to win her back, no rehashing the break-up itself; it's done, it's over, and he's accepted that. Now where does he go from here?
There's still a sniping edge of blame in the refrain: "It's all right if you finally stop caring / Just don't go and tell someone that does." He's been left holding the bag of love, and that's painful; there'll be a scar there, making it harder to risk his emotions the next time.
But he knows that nobody else can fix this for him -- he's got to "do the work," as shrinks are fond of saying. "Even though I know there's hope in every morning song / You have to find that melody alone." That word "alone" is packed with double meaning -- alone as in "find it for yourself," yeah, but also alone as in "lonely." (Though the backing vocals signal that he's not as alone as he thinks.) Bottom line: it's hard to "do the work" when you're still wounded, but suck it up -- this is life.
Like I said, Music for Grownups. Love it, love it, love it.
Friday, December 21, 2012
My Top Ten Eleven Albums of 2012
All in one place . . . like a Christmas list. I'm not numbering them 1 to 10 because they're too good -- and too different -- to rank absolutely. Click on each title for a link to my original post.
Graham Parker & The Rumour:
Three Chords Good
Even I, a confirmed Graham Parker fanatic, didn't predict just HOW good this reunion album would be. I'm gobsmacked by its brilliance.
The Shins: Port of Morrow
A combination of gorgeous melody, striking lyrics, and a sweetly melancholy worldview -- it's almost drunkenly beautiful.
Corb Lund: Cabin Fever
Ranging from honky-tonk to rockabilly to bluegrass to Western swing, Lund doesn't approach country music like an artifact or an ironic affectation; he approaches it like a cowboy..
Rhett Miller: Dreamer
From the Old 97s front man, an entire alt-country album about love, lost and found, sour and sweet.
Paul Weller: Sonik Kicks
Ever the restless risk-taker, Weller loads up this album with studio effects and sonic experiments, while his insane commitment to melody and to syncopation shines gloriously through.
The Ben Folds Five:
The Sound of the Life of the Mind
I adore Ben Folds' solo work as well, but the driving energy and impish wit of the Ben Folds Five is something else.
The dBs: Falling Off the Sky
Reuniting this beloved late 70s band so many years down the road seems like a joyful and natural thing, judging from the copasetic energy of Falling Off the Sky.
John Hiatt: Mystic Pinball
Start to finish, that raspy voice, the visceral rhythms, the crunchy guitarwork, all come together to craft a sound so authentic and idiosyncratic, it fits like a glove.
The Avett Brothers: The Carpenter
Scott and Seth Avett have never shed the upbeat sweetness of their southern folk roots, even as they steer it into rock territory.
Mumford & Sons: Babel
Hipster indie Brits forge their own peculiar Americana sound, like O Brother Where Art Thou? meets Martin Amis, full of post-modern angst and old-time religion.
M. Ward: A Wasteland Companion
OOF!! Released way back last April, I forgot at first to put this on my 2012 top ten list. But I adore its acoustic reverbed charm, a retro-flavored meditation on love, loss, and resilience.
All in one place . . . like a Christmas list. I'm not numbering them 1 to 10 because they're too good -- and too different -- to rank absolutely. Click on each title for a link to my original post.
Graham Parker & The Rumour:
Three Chords Good
Even I, a confirmed Graham Parker fanatic, didn't predict just HOW good this reunion album would be. I'm gobsmacked by its brilliance.
The Shins: Port of Morrow
A combination of gorgeous melody, striking lyrics, and a sweetly melancholy worldview -- it's almost drunkenly beautiful.
Corb Lund: Cabin Fever
Ranging from honky-tonk to rockabilly to bluegrass to Western swing, Lund doesn't approach country music like an artifact or an ironic affectation; he approaches it like a cowboy..
Rhett Miller: Dreamer
From the Old 97s front man, an entire alt-country album about love, lost and found, sour and sweet.
Paul Weller: Sonik Kicks
Ever the restless risk-taker, Weller loads up this album with studio effects and sonic experiments, while his insane commitment to melody and to syncopation shines gloriously through.
The Ben Folds Five:
The Sound of the Life of the Mind
I adore Ben Folds' solo work as well, but the driving energy and impish wit of the Ben Folds Five is something else.
The dBs: Falling Off the Sky
Reuniting this beloved late 70s band so many years down the road seems like a joyful and natural thing, judging from the copasetic energy of Falling Off the Sky.
John Hiatt: Mystic Pinball
Start to finish, that raspy voice, the visceral rhythms, the crunchy guitarwork, all come together to craft a sound so authentic and idiosyncratic, it fits like a glove.
The Avett Brothers: The Carpenter
Scott and Seth Avett have never shed the upbeat sweetness of their southern folk roots, even as they steer it into rock territory.
Mumford & Sons: Babel
Hipster indie Brits forge their own peculiar Americana sound, like O Brother Where Art Thou? meets Martin Amis, full of post-modern angst and old-time religion.
M. Ward: A Wasteland Companion
OOF!! Released way back last April, I forgot at first to put this on my 2012 top ten list. But I adore its acoustic reverbed charm, a retro-flavored meditation on love, loss, and resilience.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
My Top Ten Albums of 2012
And while we're in banjo mode . . .
The Avett Brothers: The Carpenter
"Through My Prayers"
It's easy to mix up the Mumfords and the Avetts -- both feature banjos and vocal harmonies, both had break-out albums in 2009 (the Avetts' was the spectacular I and Love and You), both have names that sound like family concerns. But there's definitely a difference, and it's worth keeping them straight. The Avetts are truly brothers (you know how I love brother acts!) and truly Americans, and they've never quite shed the upbeat sweetness of their southern folk roots, even as they steer it into rock territory. It's a toss-up for me between the Mumfords' fire-and-brimstone and the Avetts' buoyant spirit -- how lovely to live in a world where we can have both.
I went for a pensive track last time I featured the Avetts, so by all rights this time I should let you sample the fun of them rocking out. But you've probably already heard "Live and Die" on the radio, (if not, you're listening to the wrong radio station), and you could always check out live versions of "I Never Knew You" or the wicked dark samba of "Paul Newman Vs. the Demons" on YouTube. And who knows; I could come back and post about audience favorite "Down With the Shine" in the very near future -- I do feel a Week of Waltzes coming on....
Meanwhile, here's the track that has stolen my heart on the Avetts' new album The Carpenter.
And while we're in banjo mode . . .
The Avett Brothers: The Carpenter
"Through My Prayers"
It's easy to mix up the Mumfords and the Avetts -- both feature banjos and vocal harmonies, both had break-out albums in 2009 (the Avetts' was the spectacular I and Love and You), both have names that sound like family concerns. But there's definitely a difference, and it's worth keeping them straight. The Avetts are truly brothers (you know how I love brother acts!) and truly Americans, and they've never quite shed the upbeat sweetness of their southern folk roots, even as they steer it into rock territory. It's a toss-up for me between the Mumfords' fire-and-brimstone and the Avetts' buoyant spirit -- how lovely to live in a world where we can have both.
I went for a pensive track last time I featured the Avetts, so by all rights this time I should let you sample the fun of them rocking out. But you've probably already heard "Live and Die" on the radio, (if not, you're listening to the wrong radio station), and you could always check out live versions of "I Never Knew You" or the wicked dark samba of "Paul Newman Vs. the Demons" on YouTube. And who knows; I could come back and post about audience favorite "Down With the Shine" in the very near future -- I do feel a Week of Waltzes coming on....
Meanwhile, here's the track that has stolen my heart on the Avetts' new album The Carpenter.
Couldn't be simpler or more straightforward: Someone he loved has died, and their last words together were angry, so he's miserable that he can never make things right again -- except in his prayers. You could call it a case of survivor's guilt, yet he genuinely seems comforted by the belief that his prayers will somehow get through. There's no histrionics here, as he remarks, "Sometimes it knocks me down, and sometimes I can just / Put it away." This is real world emotion, not some faked up drama, and that makes it even more poignant.
There's even a gentle moral -- how wonderfully old school! "Down in my mind where I don't care to go / The pain of a lesson is letting me know / If you have love in your heart, let it show / While you can." They slip that in so casually, the careless listener could overlook it, but surely that's the whole point of this song, and the justification for its emotional throb. (Remember, the Avett Brother's 2007 was even titled Emotionalism --- feelings do not scare these guys.)
This time it's brother Seth, the guitarist, on lead vocals. I love banjo-pickin' Scott's voice too, with its edge of raggedy country grit, but Seth's sweeter voice is perfect for this mellifluous melody. I love how he plays with the lilting waltz tempo, syncopating it here and there, scatting in some high notes on verse three -- keeping it fresh, keeping it real.
Jason Kwon's luminous cello is the other essential ingredient -- it makes me wonder, why don't more bands have cellos? The short answer is, most bands don't have the musical imagination that the Avett Brothers do, or the deep and abiding faith in melody.
All in all, it's just a lovely track. Lovely, lovely, lovely. Bone-shiveringly lovely. Thank God for the Avett Brothers.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
SATURDAY SHUFFLE
Anybody else tired of April showers? Better turn the music up loud.
1. Addicted to Love
/ Robert Palmer
From Riptide (1985)
From the very first beats on those whomping drums, I start to grin despite myself. "The lights are on, but you're not home / Your mind is not your own... One of the classic MTV videos, with sultry scarlet-lipped models gyrating and strumming guitars, and Palmer in a devastatingly well-cut gray suit. That mesmerizing rhythm line drove this song straight to #1; a great 80s throwback.
2. Every Planet We Reach Is Dead
/ Gorillaz
From Demon Days (2006)
Damon Albarn gets his funk on. The comic-book element of this project is lost on me, but I sure do dig their sound -- electronica that manages NOT to be tedious or repetitive. It can be done!
3. Uncorrected Personality Traits
/ Robyn Hitchcock
From I Often Dream of Trains (1984)
A cappella psycho-babble whimsy from the delectable Mr. H. One of the funniest songs ever.
4. I Was Watching You
/ Rosanne Cash
From Black Cadillac (2006)
Rosanne's album-length elegy for her parents -- who just happened to be Johnny Cash and June Carter -- is pretty good proof that talent is genetic.
5. Some Other Guy
/ The Searchers
From Sugar and Spice (1963)
I think Johnny Kidd and the Pirates (remember them? no, me neither) recorded the original hit single of this snappy little Lieber-Stoller teen love song, but every British Beat band did a cover of it; there's grainy film somewhere of the Beatles singing it at the Cavern Club. For my money, though, the best is the Searchers, with the extra zing of their guitars.
6. I Bet You Won't Stay / The Cascades
(1965 single)
Sorry, no link for this one -- an obscure pop single which I have in bootleg only because Ray Davies wrote it. And you thought the Cascades' only song was "Rhythm of the Rain"? In fact they recorded a couple of Ray's early songs, when he was still hedging his bets with a little freelance songwriting. Oddly jazzy, with a jangly electric piano and tons of reverb -- they do perfect justice to the wistful neurosis of this song.
7. Another First Kiss / They Might Be Giants
From Mink Car
(2001)
There's always a daffy angle to every TMBG song, but they can also do earnest surprisingly well. Of course there can only be one first kiss -- but that won't stop the ever-winsome John Linnell from trying.
8. Vanity Press
/ Graham Parker & the Figgs
From Songs of No Consequence (2005)
The object of today's high-energy satire: unscrupulous journalists, for whom Graham Parker seems to have reserved a special circle of hell. Clever lyrics fly thick and fast; you gotta listen close to get every flash of wit. But never fear, GP still packs in a killer hook in the chorus.
9. Die Die Die
/ The Avett Brothers
From Emotionalism (2007)
I love these guys, with their hoarsely sweet folky harmonies, plucky banjo, and soaring melodies. This earlier album, before their "breakthrough" I and Love and You, proves that they've got the chops to be around for a while.
10. Without Love
/ Nick Lowe
From Labour of Lust (1979)
Sigh...I know I've written about this song before. But now that Labour of Lust's been reissued, it's on my daily playlist all over again. "Without love, I am an island / All alone, in a heartbreak sea...."
Anybody else tired of April showers? Better turn the music up loud.
1. Addicted to Love
/ Robert PalmerFrom Riptide (1985)
From the very first beats on those whomping drums, I start to grin despite myself. "The lights are on, but you're not home / Your mind is not your own... One of the classic MTV videos, with sultry scarlet-lipped models gyrating and strumming guitars, and Palmer in a devastatingly well-cut gray suit. That mesmerizing rhythm line drove this song straight to #1; a great 80s throwback.
2. Every Planet We Reach Is Dead
/ GorillazFrom Demon Days (2006)
Damon Albarn gets his funk on. The comic-book element of this project is lost on me, but I sure do dig their sound -- electronica that manages NOT to be tedious or repetitive. It can be done!
3. Uncorrected Personality Traits
/ Robyn HitchcockFrom I Often Dream of Trains (1984)
A cappella psycho-babble whimsy from the delectable Mr. H. One of the funniest songs ever.
4. I Was Watching You
/ Rosanne Cash From Black Cadillac (2006)
Rosanne's album-length elegy for her parents -- who just happened to be Johnny Cash and June Carter -- is pretty good proof that talent is genetic.
5. Some Other Guy
/ The SearchersFrom Sugar and Spice (1963)
I think Johnny Kidd and the Pirates (remember them? no, me neither) recorded the original hit single of this snappy little Lieber-Stoller teen love song, but every British Beat band did a cover of it; there's grainy film somewhere of the Beatles singing it at the Cavern Club. For my money, though, the best is the Searchers, with the extra zing of their guitars.
6. I Bet You Won't Stay / The Cascades
(1965 single)
Sorry, no link for this one -- an obscure pop single which I have in bootleg only because Ray Davies wrote it. And you thought the Cascades' only song was "Rhythm of the Rain"? In fact they recorded a couple of Ray's early songs, when he was still hedging his bets with a little freelance songwriting. Oddly jazzy, with a jangly electric piano and tons of reverb -- they do perfect justice to the wistful neurosis of this song.
7. Another First Kiss / They Might Be Giants
From Mink Car
(2001)There's always a daffy angle to every TMBG song, but they can also do earnest surprisingly well. Of course there can only be one first kiss -- but that won't stop the ever-winsome John Linnell from trying.
8. Vanity Press
/ Graham Parker & the Figgs From Songs of No Consequence (2005)
The object of today's high-energy satire: unscrupulous journalists, for whom Graham Parker seems to have reserved a special circle of hell. Clever lyrics fly thick and fast; you gotta listen close to get every flash of wit. But never fear, GP still packs in a killer hook in the chorus.
9. Die Die Die
/ The Avett BrothersFrom Emotionalism (2007)
I love these guys, with their hoarsely sweet folky harmonies, plucky banjo, and soaring melodies. This earlier album, before their "breakthrough" I and Love and You, proves that they've got the chops to be around for a while.
10. Without Love
/ Nick LoweFrom Labour of Lust (1979)
Sigh...I know I've written about this song before. But now that Labour of Lust's been reissued, it's on my daily playlist all over again. "Without love, I am an island / All alone, in a heartbreak sea...."
Friday, January 01, 2010
"I and Love and You" / The Avett Brothers
Well, I started out to make a Best Albums of 2009 list -- how Uncle E of me! -- but it just didn't feel right. Maybe that's because this is a song blog, not an album blog. Yeah, that's my excuse. Although really, it's because I felt like a phony, crowning 10 albums as "the best" when I've been so lazy -- or so stuck in my musical ways -- that I've blown off listening to most of this year's new music. (But really -- Lady Gaga? Kiss? Passion Pit? Chester French? Puh-leese.)
For the record, though, this would have been my list (note: no compilations allowed, otherwise Nick Lowe and Ray Davies would be here too):
10. Ready for the Flood -- Mark Olson & Gary Louris
9. Oh Tall Tree in the Ear -- Roman Candle
8. Veckatimest -- Grizzly Bear
7. Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane -- Elvis Costello
6. Goodnight Oslo -- Robyn Hitchcock & the Venus 3
5. Monsters of Folk -- Monsters of Folk
4. Hazards of Love -- The Decemberists
3. One Fast Move or I'm Gone -- Jay Farrar & Benjamin Gibbard
2. I and Love and You -- The Avett Brothers
1. Jaggedland -- Marshall Crenshaw
For most of these, just click on the titles to jump to my original posts about each one. Okay, somehow I missed blogging about the Mark Olson/Gary Louris album, which baffles me -- I even saw them in concert, and loved them (not quite a Jayhawks reunion, but the next best thing). I promise I'll remedy that omission in the New Year.
I haven't had a chance yet to write about my #2 record, either. In fact I just learned about these guys a couple weeks ago (thank you, Lennart!), but I and Love and You leapfrogged immediately to the top. It reminds me of Roman Candle and the Wood Brothers -- bluegrass-tinged rock with an intoxicating love of melody (hurray for melody!) and brothers singing close vocal harmonies. Yes, the North-Carolina-based Avett Brothers -- Seth and Scott -- really are brothers, which always adds a certain something for me. (They're joined by stand-up bassist Bob Crawford and, more recently, cellist Jason Kwon.) Amazingly, this is their eleventh album, and even now, the Major Buzz around these guys seems generated by the fact that they're producer Rick Rubin's latest "find." But hey, Rubin's got a great ear, and in this case his instincts are right on target.
The multi-talented Avetts weave in so many styles, from gospel to punk to art rock, that any track I picked to write about would probably misrepresent their "sound." The title track, which comes first on the album, is as good a place to start as any, though -- pensive, acoustic, with a melancholy, meditative tempo (don't worry, they get plenty frisky later on, in songs like "Kick Drum Heart" and "Slight Figure of Speech"). It's a good beginning, a fresh chapter sort of song, as the singer starts out by leaving town: " Load the car and write the note / Grab your bag and grab your coat / Tell the ones that need to know / We are headed north." I love how his voice toggles up an octave on that word "bag"; these guys hit a sweet spot where emo-indie anxiety intersects with the plaintive wail of bluegrass.
This whole song is about breaking out, taking a chance, although it's complicated by realistic fears and doubt. He knows where's he heading for -- "Ah Brooklyn Brooklyn take me in" he sings in the chorus, a majestic Band-like pronouncement -- but he suspects he's gonna be a wreck by the time he gets there ("My hands, they shake; my head it spins"). It seems there's a woman there (naturally), with "eyes that shine / Like a pair of stolen polished dimes." He knows he wants her, but the effort of getting to her is huge, not just geographically but emotionally.
Like a lot of guys (both indie angsters and taciturn bluegrass dudes), it's hard to reveal his emotions -- and now, he has to. Notice how the whole song shushes down for the crucial verse: "Three words that became hard to say / I . . . and love . . . and you." (What a novel idea -- slowing down the tempo, bringing the song down a notch -- pay attention, Bruce Springsteen.) Those three words are still hard to say; he can take them separately, but putting them together is almost more than he can manage. But he's gonna give it a shot, god bless him.
These guys are, what, 33 and 29, and yet they present themselves as world-weary, sadder-but-wiser types -- "Dumbed-down and numbed by time and age," as he sings in the last verse. I'm tempted to laugh, except he's won me over with the internal rhyme and the gruff wobble in his vocals. I actually believe that his dreams have faded, and he's become resigned to taking life one day at a time. "The highway sets the traveler's stage / All exits look the same," he sings, philosophically. Highway songs -- I've always had a weakness for those.
I'll admit, I was a little crestfallen to discover this record on so many other critics 2009 Best Album lists -- I hate joining the pack. But I kept Marshall at Number One -- I'll never give up hoping that Marshall will get "discovered" again. Hey, it worked for Nick Lowe . . . .
Well, I started out to make a Best Albums of 2009 list -- how Uncle E of me! -- but it just didn't feel right. Maybe that's because this is a song blog, not an album blog. Yeah, that's my excuse. Although really, it's because I felt like a phony, crowning 10 albums as "the best" when I've been so lazy -- or so stuck in my musical ways -- that I've blown off listening to most of this year's new music. (But really -- Lady Gaga? Kiss? Passion Pit? Chester French? Puh-leese.)
For the record, though, this would have been my list (note: no compilations allowed, otherwise Nick Lowe and Ray Davies would be here too):
10. Ready for the Flood -- Mark Olson & Gary Louris
9. Oh Tall Tree in the Ear -- Roman Candle
8. Veckatimest -- Grizzly Bear
7. Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane -- Elvis Costello
6. Goodnight Oslo -- Robyn Hitchcock & the Venus 3
5. Monsters of Folk -- Monsters of Folk
4. Hazards of Love -- The Decemberists
3. One Fast Move or I'm Gone -- Jay Farrar & Benjamin Gibbard
2. I and Love and You -- The Avett Brothers
1. Jaggedland -- Marshall Crenshaw
For most of these, just click on the titles to jump to my original posts about each one. Okay, somehow I missed blogging about the Mark Olson/Gary Louris album, which baffles me -- I even saw them in concert, and loved them (not quite a Jayhawks reunion, but the next best thing). I promise I'll remedy that omission in the New Year.
I haven't had a chance yet to write about my #2 record, either. In fact I just learned about these guys a couple weeks ago (thank you, Lennart!), but I and Love and You leapfrogged immediately to the top. It reminds me of Roman Candle and the Wood Brothers -- bluegrass-tinged rock with an intoxicating love of melody (hurray for melody!) and brothers singing close vocal harmonies. Yes, the North-Carolina-based Avett Brothers -- Seth and Scott -- really are brothers, which always adds a certain something for me. (They're joined by stand-up bassist Bob Crawford and, more recently, cellist Jason Kwon.) Amazingly, this is their eleventh album, and even now, the Major Buzz around these guys seems generated by the fact that they're producer Rick Rubin's latest "find." But hey, Rubin's got a great ear, and in this case his instincts are right on target.
The multi-talented Avetts weave in so many styles, from gospel to punk to art rock, that any track I picked to write about would probably misrepresent their "sound." The title track, which comes first on the album, is as good a place to start as any, though -- pensive, acoustic, with a melancholy, meditative tempo (don't worry, they get plenty frisky later on, in songs like "Kick Drum Heart" and "Slight Figure of Speech"). It's a good beginning, a fresh chapter sort of song, as the singer starts out by leaving town: " Load the car and write the note / Grab your bag and grab your coat / Tell the ones that need to know / We are headed north." I love how his voice toggles up an octave on that word "bag"; these guys hit a sweet spot where emo-indie anxiety intersects with the plaintive wail of bluegrass.
This whole song is about breaking out, taking a chance, although it's complicated by realistic fears and doubt. He knows where's he heading for -- "Ah Brooklyn Brooklyn take me in" he sings in the chorus, a majestic Band-like pronouncement -- but he suspects he's gonna be a wreck by the time he gets there ("My hands, they shake; my head it spins"). It seems there's a woman there (naturally), with "eyes that shine / Like a pair of stolen polished dimes." He knows he wants her, but the effort of getting to her is huge, not just geographically but emotionally.
Like a lot of guys (both indie angsters and taciturn bluegrass dudes), it's hard to reveal his emotions -- and now, he has to. Notice how the whole song shushes down for the crucial verse: "Three words that became hard to say / I . . . and love . . . and you." (What a novel idea -- slowing down the tempo, bringing the song down a notch -- pay attention, Bruce Springsteen.) Those three words are still hard to say; he can take them separately, but putting them together is almost more than he can manage. But he's gonna give it a shot, god bless him.
These guys are, what, 33 and 29, and yet they present themselves as world-weary, sadder-but-wiser types -- "Dumbed-down and numbed by time and age," as he sings in the last verse. I'm tempted to laugh, except he's won me over with the internal rhyme and the gruff wobble in his vocals. I actually believe that his dreams have faded, and he's become resigned to taking life one day at a time. "The highway sets the traveler's stage / All exits look the same," he sings, philosophically. Highway songs -- I've always had a weakness for those.
I'll admit, I was a little crestfallen to discover this record on so many other critics 2009 Best Album lists -- I hate joining the pack. But I kept Marshall at Number One -- I'll never give up hoping that Marshall will get "discovered" again. Hey, it worked for Nick Lowe . . . .
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