Thursday, May 30, 2013

5/30/13

I'm such a sucker for a good country song. Like seriously, and I don't care what that does to my pop-punk, rock-n-roll credibility. If it's not from the heart, it's not for these ears, and sometimes nothing's got more heart than a good country tune.

Enter Kacey Musgraves, who is winning over radio waves and critics and iTunes and girls like me, or however you measure music success these days. She's the one behind this beautiful song, "Merry Go' Round," this sad-town tale of the broken young girl. The first time I heard it, on a static-strewn radio station coming back from Lancaster, I knew I had to hear it again.


I could see why someone would put Musgraves in that slightly gimmicky category of a lot of other new female country singers, the kind who make no apologies for their cavalcade of redneck references and get them brandished on merch and tweeted by tweens. In most scenarios and songs, that's not my cup of tea. But with Musgraves, especially on "Merry Go' Round," I hear the sadness in her voice more than I hear any act. I can feel the dust on the roads and the chipped paint on the trailer siding, and I can't help but sing along to the quite brilliantly crafted chorus. Exploring the rest of her songs, I find them incredibly honest and far more introspective than you'd expect, and the references aren't there for decoration so much as they're reflecting her reality.

(Also: Kacey plays not just guitar but banjo, as I saw in this performance. And to the many who've picked up the four-stringed step-child of string instruments because of bands like Mumford and Sons, it was definitely a backwoods redneck country thing first, so reconcile that with progressive ways.)

"We think the first time's good enough.
So, we hold on to high school love.
Sayin' we won't end up like our parents.

Tiny little boxes in a row.
Ain't what you want, it's what you know.
Just happy in the shoes you're wearin'.
Same checks we're always cashin' to buy a little more distraction.

'Cause mama's hooked on Mary Kay.
Brother's hooked on Mary Jane.
Daddy's hooked on Mary two doors down.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary.
We get bored, so, we get married.
Just like dust, we settle in this town.
On this broken merry go 'round and 'round and 'round we go
Where it stops nobody knows and it ain't slowin' down.

This merry go 'round.
"
~Merry Go' Round
Kacey Musgroves, Same Trailer, Different Park

UPDATE:  Sooooo I just learned Kacey co-wrote "Undermine," the song from the TV series "Nashville" that I was totally obsessed with and completely fell in love with...here is Kacey performing it. I like her even more now; again, honest, and introspective and cuts straight to the heart of the emotion. "Undermine" is a rather inspirational song that doesn't sacrifice hurt or humanity to show strength. Truly beautiful and fun to sing.



"Sometimes good intentions don't come across so well 
Got me analyzing everything that ain't worth thinking about 
Just 'cause I ain't lived through the same hand that was dealt to you 
Doesn't make me any less, or make any more of you

I wouldn't trade my best day 
So you could validate all your fears
And if I've only got one shot 
Won't waste it on a shadowbox, I'll stand right here

It's all talk, talk, talk, talkin' in the wind 
It always slows you down when you start listening
And it's a whole lot harder to shine 
Than undermine.

First mile is always harder
When you're leaving what you know
Won’t blame you if you stay here
Waving to me as I go
Always wished the best for you
Thought that you would see me through my wildest dreams
Yeah, the ones you thought I’d never meet

Still, you would trade your best day
Just to have your way
All these years

And if you only had one shot
Maybe all this talk
Would disappear


It's all talk, talk, talk, talkin' in the wind 
It always slows you down when you start listening
And it's a whole lot harder to shine 
Than undermine."
~Undermine
Kacey Musgraves, as performed in February 2013

Thursday, May 23, 2013

5/23/13

"I was just happy to be a contender. 
I was just aching for anything. 
I used to have such steady hands but
Now I can't keep them from shaking." 

I am very much addicted to the new record from The Wonder Years. It's called "The Greatest Generation." In a week it has become that kind of album that feels like a good friend, the kind you call after a shitty day who listens and understands and helps you keep your head on straight.

I listed to the album a ton when it was streaming pre-release, and picked up a physical copy for $10 at a Hot Topic at the Capital City Mall off of I-83 after work two days after it came out. I purposely hadn't read any album reviews. Took the long way home to get a full car listen in, which is an extra enjoyable experience when you already know the words and where the big moments are. Took me a long time to sit down and write about it, as is often the case with topics of dear import to me.



"Two blackbirds on a highway sign
Are laughing at me at four in the morning.
They played the war drum out of time
So I’m not sure where I’ve been marching.
I wanna be strong, but it’s not easy anymore.
I’m hoping I’m wrong."

~The Devil in My Blooodstream

Chain smoking and reflecting, I thought about how much of the album is about turning despair into absolution, and getting the best you can out of yourself. It's no optimistic tale, by any means. Fear is a prominent theme, but it is embraced. There's hope there, buried in acceptance of, or even surrender to, reality and self-assertion. No shortage of compelling, spot-on lyrics, as you would expect from this band by its fourth LP. Dan Campbell has truly succeeded in spilling his guts with vibrant and original turns of phrase, from personifying devils in bloodstreams and on front porches, to the reminiscent and familiar and ubiquitous memories of old houses and highways.

"The Greatest Generation" is something of a redemption story, of not only the narrator's life but of a era full of mutually lost souls. The kind who are confounded by growing up in a time where they are guaranteed nothing, yet feel the promise of everything all at once, in the blighted cities and the troubled families and the broken, forgotten romances.



"I keep a flashlight
And a small knife in the corner of my bed stand.
I keep a flashlight and the train times,
But you wouldn’t understand.
How could you understand?"

~Passing Through a Screen Door

All deep thoughts aside, it's fabulously fucking fun to listen to.

TWY has always had really precise guitar lines, unbelievably layered - you'll hear the catchy pop punk-style riffs underscored with heavy bass, and dramatic harmonic echoes in a bridge, then pedal-fueled shredding to cap it all off. Solos are stretched out into climatic collapse of call-and-response response singing and thrashing crash hits - don't let the emotions and narratives mislead you, this is a rock band with some fierce ability to throw down. The production mimics the style of the songs, focusing on moments in true Mark Trombino form. I love the way that so many songs seem to build and break. Songs don't end as much as they explode. Drummer Mike Kennedy shines, he's intricate and steady - see the intro of closer "I Just Want To Sell Out My Funeral" for a taste of him at his best. That song might be the best thing they've ever done.

The use of keys and acoustics on tracks like "The Devil in my Bloodstream" and "Madelyn" give it a breather..."Devil" in particular is easily one of the most mature songs TWY have ever produced, though it in no way sacrifices their grit or glory or raw emotion, and I love that. I think that's the way growth is supposed to work, anyway, in a band or a life or whatever.

I'm thrilled with Campell singing lower at moments, and background vocals are used throughout yet just enough to keep (as on other records). The back-ups in the chorus of "Dismantling Summer" makes me smile, and Campbell's  cracking in the bridge of "Passing Through a Screen Door" break my heart. "An American Religion," one of the edgier tracks, is incredibly striking and sharp with a bitter taste. One of my most-listened to favorites so far is "The Bastards, The Vultures, The Wolves." I seriously cannot stop listening to this song, because it is about being scrappy, and reminding myself that I am scrappy is the only way I get through the day sometimes.



"I know I was an angry kid
But I scraped and scratched for this
Now I’m stuck holding a bomb
With a fuse that’s still lit"

~The Bastards, The Vultures, The Wolves

The liner notes in the album were very interesting to me (the packaging, by the way, is beautiful and cool and classy). They said something about how *this* generation can, and should, be the next to be great. I want to remember that. I think we all should remember that. How easy it is to sell yourself short. How easy it is to shut off the world. It is much harder to engage, because the second you jump, you know you don't really know where you're going to land.

Simply, this is an amazing album, it is a story of this age for the ages. It tells of scenes and feelings only those who were there and felt it can truly understand. Listening to this record is ultimately reflective for me, and though I generally get that way any time I band I really love has a new release, there will be distinct associations of times and places and feelings I will have with this record. About being almost 25 and still not sure if I'm growing up, if I want to, or if I have already and don't even know it yet. About how every decision terrifies, but no decision depresses. About learning to let go or realizing you can't.

There's something a bit pivotal going on right now, for me personally, and the generation at large. Here I stand staring at the next chapter, knowing full well the damage I've done and the dreams I've desperately clung to....I can list the failures far quicker than the triumphs, though only I will understand why any such moments are important to me. To the rest of the world, who am I? Who are any of us? It's instinctive to say not much, given the smallness of our little lives in the vastness that surrounds us. But I think that's where the triumph is to be found, by giving in to whatever the world offers you, and wherever your life brings you. Being open for whatever harm or hope comes your way. That will fill you, color you, and collectively, if we've all got enough strength to open our eyes and look around and, collectively, forge ahead, we just might make it OK. Maybe better.



"Because I'm sick of seeing ghosts and I know how it's all gonna end.
There's no triumph waiting. There's no sunset to ride off in.
We all want to be great men and there's nothing romantic about it.
I just want to know that I did all I could with what I was given."
~I Just Want To Sell Out My Funeral
The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation

Monday, May 13, 2013

5/13/13

If I was a producer and wanted to lock a pair of singer-songwriters in a room together to write soundtrack of my life today, I'd have to say Elena Tonra and Dallas Green. Soft songs with a lot of heart - I guess that's how I'm feeling today.


I am a recent fan of Daughter, she's pretty amazing and stands out among the bazillion indie Brits or indie wanna-be brits flooded the "hipster" scene and primetime female-led drama soundtracks. Daughter is different, there's a lot of real musicianship in her songwriter. Here, for example -- it's a bold move to go with such stripped down instrumentals in a whole verse or two, that sotto voce while soft acoustics chime gradually in and out, before swelling into something more full.

Torna's song lyrics are quite dark, as such I think they almost require that kind of delicacy...feelings and messages so bold and visceral they are better delivered by a light touch.

"Throw me in the landfill
Don't think about the consequences
Throw me in the dirt pit
Don't think about the choices that you make
Throw me in the water
Don't think about the splash I will create
Leave me at the altar
Knowing all the things you just escaped


Push me out to sea
On the little boat that you made
Out of the evergreen
That you helped your father cut away
Leave me on the tracks
To wait until the morning train arrives
Don't you dare look back
Walk away, catch up with the sunrise


'Cause this is torturous
Electricity between both of us
And this is dangerous

 'cause I want you so much
But I hate your guts"

~Landfill
Daughter,  His Young Heart



I also can't get enough of City and Colour lately, inspired by the supreme fandom of recently made friends. I've always appreciated Dallas Green, even from back in the Alexisonfire days when I thought was I hardcore because I had checkered Vans and long bangs, or something. I remember listening to "Save Your Scissors" a lot when I was about 18.

Lately, though, on this side of college and real relationships and indulging in all the highs and lows young adulthood can offer, his heartfelt sincerity for love and affection is perfectly sweet,simply just right. He has some serious perspective, on life and despair and dreams and love....it's the last one though, where he really drives it home. Lyrically,  Green equally captures the fragile and the strong sides of sentimentality, never pandering to either. Seriously don't know of any other modern songwriter who can write this many love songs that are so beautiful without being incredibly cheesy or poppy or forced. You have to click here to see what I'm talking about because of YouTube rules.

Green's voice is ethereal, his melodies are enchanting, and when he gets the choir-like backup vocals and tambourine going, I cannot help but feel lighter, making no matter of my automatic default to remain knee-deep in melancholy. I suppose it's not the worst thing to find yourself smiling alone.

"You're the Northern Wind
Sending shivers down my spine.
You're like fallen leaves
In an autumn night.

You're the lullaby,
Singing me to sleep.
You are the other half
You're like a missing piece

Oh my love...
Oh my love ,
Oh my love,
You don't know,
What you're doing to me


You are all four seasons
Rolled into one,
You're like the cold December snow,
In the warm July sun.

I'm the jet black sky,
Just before the rain,
Like the mighty current,
Pulling you under the waves
Oh my love,
Oh my love,
Oh my love,

You must be tired of me,
Of me...


I'm the darkest hour,
Just before the dawn,
I'm slowly sinking

Into the slough of despond

Like an old guitar
Worn out and left behind
I have stories still to tell
Of the healing kind

Oh my love,
Oh my love,
Oh my love,
If I could just find you tonight,
If I could just find you tonight...
Oh my love..."

~Northern Lights
City and Colour, Little Hell












Saturday, May 11, 2013

5/11/13

Today enjoying the latest track from Man Overboard, whose next full-length comes out on my birthday. Definitely a band I'd love to see live - it's been a while since I've been to a good pop punk show, and as much as I enjoy watching audience and band members flip out at metal shows, it's a different scene, and I wonder if this genre's shows today is what it was a few years ago. Or is it like those indie concerts where people stand still? I don't get those (though I enjoy listening).

Really like the group vocals in the chorus, and the keys. Feel like it's a good blend of '03-'06 Something Corporate/Taking Back Sunday, something heartfelt and vulnerable. The last Man Overboard record was a fun one, full of much faster takes than this, very quick and traditionally structured songs, that make for good daytime, car-time listening. I can pick the parts apart pretty easily, so I'm enjoying delving into their discography. What's more, I'm looking forward to them "keeping the scene alive" as I continue to indulge in music that keeps me from forgetting where I came from.



"I saw you leaning on the hood of my car 
We're not leaving here 
We're not leaving here 
I need to be with you alone in my arms 
I am dying here
When you're not home"
~Wide Awake
Man Overboard, Heart Attack