My Musical Advent Calendar

"Wonderful Christmastime" /
The Shins

Instead of a glitter-spangled scene with doors for every day of December, how about a daily treat from my iTunes holiday playlist?

Why do so many musical cooler-than-thous like to bash Paul McCartney?  They'll point to "Silly Love Songs" as if it were the only song he ever recorded in his post-Beatles career and condemn him for a sentimental hack.

Well, he is sentimental, I'll grant you that, and being a sentimental guy, it was almost inevitable he'd record a modern Christmas classic. "Wonderful Christmas Time" came out as a single in 1979, and every year it puts several more pounds and dollars in the already substantial McCartney bank account. Critics hate it, of course.

But lo and behold, look at how cool the song seems when you've got indie stars like The Shins covering it.

The Shins covered this for a 2012 Starbucks holiday anthology, and I'm betting that James Mercer couldn't wait to get his hands on it, having lived in England as a kid, where this song is even more ubiquitous in December than it is here. (Dig the Macca-esque Liverpudlian vowels James Mercer can't help throwing in  -- "the spirit's up," "and that's enough." It's all part of the homage.) They've relaxed the tempo and traded in the synthesizers for electric piano, all of which helps the song sound a good deal more mellow. But otherwise, it's a pretty straight cover.

But is this really such a sentimental song?  The Shins do melancholy very well, and they bring out an almost edgy undertone of what's not right with the world.  Just being there with his friends/lover/family is "enough" -- he doesn't dare to ask for anything too big. (Not like Stevie Wonder, asking for world peace.)  He reminds us that this festive party spirit "only comes this time of year," with crowd chatter muddying up the background track toward the end. That raucous choir of children is singing just off key. And there's nothing icky-sweet about that third verse: "The word is out / About the town / To lift a glass / Ahhh don't look down."  (Followed by a vertiginous three beats of silence as, of course, they do look down anyway.)

So let's wrestle Christmas happiness out of whatever we've got, with tripping syncopation, upward melodic lines, and scale-mounting chord changes. We're not telling you that Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year -- we're making you feel it in the music itself.  It's a pretty irresistible song in my book, no matter who sings it.

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.

My Top Ten Albums of 2012
You must have know this one was coming...

The Shins: Port of Morrow
"For A Fool"

I didn't even remember which track from this album I'd previously blogged about before -- was it "A Simple Song," or "40 Mark Strasse," or "September"?  There were so many I wanted to write about, I wasted half a day trying to decide, I know that. That's how strong this album is.

And much as I loved it the first week I immersed myself in it, back in May, it has actually grown on me even more in the months since. It's got a peculiar magic I can't quite define, a combination of gorgeous melody, striking lyrics, and a sweetly melancholy worldview. It's almost drunkenly beautiful.

So in case you've forgotten it, or missed it the first time round, here's my rapturous review of Track Seven from Port of Morrow.

For A Fool / The Shins

The Shins . . . well, come on, we all know they're good. That's the orthodox music geek line, isn't it? And yeah, I've liked them ever since I first heard "New Slang" in the movie Garden State; having a song in The Sponge Bob Movie ("They'll Soon Discover") just gave them more indie cred.  (What is this indie cred stuff, anyway?  Can you spend it at the store?)

But for some reason, I didn't really fall in love with the Shins -- not in-love love, in my heart of hearts -- until this new album, Port of Morrow.  Frontman-songwriter James Mercer -- who, let's be honest, IS the Shins -- always struck me as impossibly clever and talented and post-modern-hipster cool. Clearly he didn't need me for a fan. Not one of My Special Bands.  

So I'm wondering -- did I get James Mercer wrong?  Or has he finally developed the kind of musical heart that I'm always looking for? Because Port of Morrow completely shivers me timbers.    

Just listen to this gorgeous track:

Why do I love it? Let me count the ways.  There's the loping rhythm, the twangy surf-guitar riff, the haunting theremin-like keyboard sigh woven into the background. And ohmygod, the melody, soaring like a seagull into Mercer's earnest falsetto. He doesn't have a great voice, it's true, but now he's really writing for the idiosyncratic wobble, creak, and swoop of his range. And dig the skipping syncopations, which Mercer throws in all over this album; it reminds me of how much better the Talking Heads got after David Byrne discovered his pelvis. 

Perhaps most of all, I sense that the Shins are finally producing Music For Grownups.  (I really gotta copyright that term.)  Clever Boy James Mercer is now rueful and wise in a way he just wasn't before.  "Young and bright / But now just a dim light / Off in the distance," he modestly describes himself; not a hero, but a "falling stone / Following the path / Of least resistance." He knows he's still making things difficult for his other half, but at least he can now put it into perspective -- "If I still fight, / It's just that I'm / Afraid I'll slide under that spell again." (Love how his voice slides upward to a panicky yelp on "spell again.")

I love how he can gently scoff at his own internal debates: " So many times / Caught up in my head at night / With a leash and a label."  And -- wow -- he's actually trying to adapt and grow: "If I can learn / Anything from this, then I'd be like / The fox in the fable." (For those of you who don't remember your Aesop:  The fox gave up trying to steal the vineyard's grapes, telling himself that they were probably sour anyway. (Which is where our catchphrase "sour grapes" comes from.)

But it's the chorus that really pierces my heart: "Taken for a fool / Yes, I was / Because I was a fool."  He's not making excuses, not blaming the other party -- he's taking a good hard look at himself and is willing to admit he blew things.  The melody skips downward, the rhythm stutters gently as he fesses up. But he knows he was a fool; he accepts full responsibility. That's the first big step to solving things between them.

Is this a love song?  Could be; doesn't have to be. Perhaps we'd better just call it a "relationship song."  But we have enough ooh-baby-I-want-you songs out there. A few more I-fucked-up-I'm-sorry songs -- that's all to the good.    

The Wednesday Shuffle

Back to Wednesdays, and it feels so right. (Anything rather than go outdoors in this weather...)

1.  "The Bad Thing" / Arctic Monkeys
From Favourite Worst Nightmare (2007)
Are the Arctic Monkeys over?  I hope not. Here's what I wrote about this scrappy track a couple years ago when the album first came out...

2. "Isn't That the Thing To Do?" / Maria Muldaur
From Love Wants to Dance (2004)
Nice little palate cleanser, with Maria letting out her jazz side on this Gershwin standard.

3. "How Can I Sing Like a Girl?" / They Might Be Giants
From Factory Showroom (1996)
"I want to raise my freak flag / And never be alone" -- yes, it's another off-kilter nerd anthem from the Johns.  That nasal whine of John Linnell is perfect for this song.


4. "There Ain't Half Been Some Clever Bastards" / Ian Dury and the Blockheads
From Reasons to Be Cheerful (1978)
Speaking of raising freak flags....here's my favorite Ian Dury tune ever (here's why). Which reminds me -- I've just got the new biopic Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll from Netflix -- must watch!

5. "Sleepwalker" / The Kinks
From Sleepwalker (1977)
Or, "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Insomnia," by Ray Davies. Another freak flag raised!  This bouncy track IMHO isn't one of the Kinks' best -- odd it should be the title track of an album. But there are Kinks fans who love it, so what do I know?

6. "Money Talks" / The Kinks
From Preservation Act 2 (1974)
Now this is more my Kinks -- savage satire with histrionic flair.  Being deep into Keith Richards' Life at the moment, I realize what a pitch-perfect Stones impression this is.  I'm noticing the dirty slide guitar and lovin' it.

7. "New Slang" / The Shins
From Oh, Inverted World (2001)
Charming folk-pop jangle from James Mercer and Co., spiked with stream-of-consciousness absurdity.  Yes, I'll admit it, this song on the Garden State soundtrack was my back-door introduction to these indie darlings.  There is an art to a great soundtrack, though.  Must blog about that sometime... 

8.  "Don't Bug Me When I'm Working" / Little Village
From Little Village (1992)

Talk about dirty guitar -- Ry Cooder gets just plain nasty on this one. Oh, and Johnny Hiatt's snarling lead vocals, with Ry and Nick Lowe each insinuating a verse. ("I can't even work with my baby at night -- Lord have mercy!") Tell me again why Little Village didn't work out?

9. "Full Moon in My Soul" / Robyn Hitchcock
From Spooked (2004)
More folk-pop jangle, with Robyn out-absurding even the Shins -- "I'm out of here, I'm taking off / You can have my cigarettes and, mister, you can have my cough." The loungy rhythm of this number is simply too delicious, and dig that lazy slide guitar in the bridge. 

10. "This Is A Low" / Blur 
From Parklife (1994)
Mmm, what a lovely sonic haze enfolds this modern bit of BritPop psychedelia -- I sink right into it. My sentimental favorite Blur album.  Should have known Damon Albarn would be a Kinks fan... 

"Australia" / The Shins

All right, I know, it will never measure up to the Kinks song of the same name, on their classic album Arthur. But I've had the Shins on my mind for the past few days, ever since re-watching the movie Garden State, which first introduced me to them via the song "New Slang." (If you haven't seen it, Natalie Portman and Zach Braff meet cute in the waiting room of a neurologist's office when she hands him her earphones to listen to the Shins, assuring him that it will change his life.) And as soon as I put on their 2007 album Wincing the Night Away, this is the song that I've been singing.

Like the Kinks' "Australia," this song seems upbeat, drenched in Beach Boy-ish falsettos, perky Sputnik-style guitar riffs, skippy syncopation, and upwards charging melodic phrases. Yet while the Kinks gave us a neat parody of a government sales pitch luring post-war Brits to resettle in Australia, the Shins are up to something totally different beneath that buoyant sound. Their trademark off-kilter lyrics feature allusive shards of words that create a mindset rather than tell a story, and the mindset this song creates is so much darker than that blithe la-la-la surface suggests.

James Mercer, who writes all the Shins' songs, packs in the clever, baffling lyrics so quickly, it's almost impossible to pin down what he's on about. (What it has to do with Australia, I have no idea; how literal-minded of me even to ask.) Basically, he's beckoning a girl who yearns for happiness, pointing out with just a tremble of neurotic sympathy, "Been alone since you were twenty-one, / You haven't laughed since January, / You try and make like this is so much fun, / But we know it to be quite contrary." He coaxes her to run off with him and his free-spirited kind, escaping a conventional existence ("They're gonna buy your life's time," with the "selfless fool who hoped he'd save us all" (Jesus?) holding her down). "You'll be damned to pining through the windowpanes," he predicts, "You know you'd trade your life for any ordinary Joe's."

Just for good measure, he adds a carpe diem note of warning: "Well do it now or grow old, / Cause your nightmares only need a year or two to unfold," and "Will you be pulled from the ocean, / But just a minute too late," and he adds in the last verse, "You don't know how long I've been / Watching the lantern dim, / Starved of oxygen." Wow, talk about a fun-killer.

But his "us" group doesn't seem to have the answer, either: "You'll be damned to be one of us girl / Faced with the dodo's conundrum" (later it becomes the "android's conundrum"). His view of human existence? "We come in doing cartwheels / We all crawl out by ourselves." Okey-dokey.

But you gotta give the Shins credit -- they make their audience think, and the dialectic between the light-hearted, jangly pop music and those droll-yet-bleak lyrics is irresistible. Maybe it's just a knee-jerk neurotic indie-band frame of mind; maybe it's all tongue-in-cheek; maybe Mercer himself is a nut case. (Wouldn't be the first.) Either way, to me the happy-go-lucky lilt of this song wins out in the end. "So give me your hand," he sings merrily in the last verse, "And let's jump out the window." A break for freedom -- or suicide? Well, let's hold hands and give it a go.

Australia sample

Australia video