7/31/13

"A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun you can't trust anyone
I was so sure what I needed was more tried to shoot out the sun
Days when we raged, we flew off the page such damage was done
But I made it through, cause somebody knew I was meant for someone

Girl, leave your boots by the bed we ain't leaving this room
Till someone needs medical help or the magnolias bloom
It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood
So cover me up and know you're enough to use me for good

Put your faith to the test when I tore off your dress in Richmond all high
But I sobered up and I swore off that stuff forever, this time
And the old lovers sing 'I thought it'd be me who helped him get home'
But home was a dream, one I'd never seen till you came along
Girl, hang your dress up to dry we ain't leaving this room
Till Percy Priest breaks open wide and the river runs through
And carries this house on the stones like a piece of driftwood
Cover me up and know you're enough to use me for good

Girl, leave your boots by the bed we ain't leaving this room
Till someone needs medical help or the magnolias bloom
It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood
So cover me up and know you're enough to use me for good
Cover me up and know you're enough to use me for good."
~Cover Me Up
Jason Isbell, Southeastern

All I want to do is listen to this record and feel the tears wet my eyes, never falling.

In an age when any kid in a plaid shirt with a banjo (and an iPhone to prove it to the watching world at large) thinks he's an Americana star waiting to be discovered, it is truly a gift to fans of the genre everywhere when a real talent like Jason Isbell breaks through like did. Already there's plenty of stories about how this album was borne of his sobriety, and of how his days with the Drive-By Truckers are memories blurred by alcoholism. Now that "Southeastern" is done and given to the world, though, another story is just beginning. Because I think this can be an album that re-inspires folk and country to be better. I think this raises the bar.

Start to finish, every song tells a story. Emotions are laid plain on the table and neither dressed up nor down. Where in pop country you'd hear cliches, with Isbell you hear tales. His use of details is incredibly natural; the rooms and the landscapes he sees are sketched with phrases then painted in with acoustics and fiddle strings. Melodically, these songs were made for singing, and occasional harmonies and keys add some soul.

Some of the most poignant lines are the smallest lines, like a subtle afterthought ("What good does knowing do/with no one to show it to?"). There is love and there is loss, there are heavy hearts and there is hope. And yes, there is some slide guitar.



Isbell is definitely in the Americana/alt country category for me (think Whiskeytown), however if you don't like folk or country, I do think you'd probably have to get past that to really appreciate these songs. But for songwriting geeks or any one with a penchant for a sad story, they will find what they're looking for.  I'm sure there are exclusive listeners of pop punk and metal who I share favorite bands wtih who would totally write me off for appreciating this. But I don't get that exclusivity, not when you're looking to music to give you the stories and feelings to find yourself in, or appreciate the crafted expression that goes into writing something someone else may find worthwhile.

Jason Isbell is a storyteller, the truest kind American music can ever hope to find.

Lately I've been doing my best to leave my mistakes and regrets back where they belong. Major things, minor things, from hurting the ones I loved to spilling a drink on a host's table and never really apologizing to missing an opportunity that I just wish I'd taken. Sometimes forgetting doesn't work so well, other times, I see how far I've come. Listening to "Southeastern," I keep coming back to why it's so important to keep moving forward, because you never what light lies on the other side of the dark.



"Take my hand, baby, we're over land
I know flying over water makes you cry 
Where's that liquor cart, maybe we shouldn't start
But I can't for the life of me say why did we leave our love behind?"
~Flying Over Water,
Jason Isbell, Southeastern

7/23/13

"I can hear my train comin'...it's a lonesome and distant cry.."



Had this stuck in my head all day, sat down to try to learn it. Thirty minutes later and a tab or two later, I had the main chords figured out but absolutely no technical ability to pull of the playing, the picking or the chord changes. Mostly because I am no guitar player but also because Dallas Green is a man of incredible skill and talent. He plays the way some people write, dynamics and rhythm so perfect and fluid because they are innate. It's nothing that can be taught - refined, maybe, but some are just born with it.

And his words. Simple and telling, effortless rhymes. If this song doesn't make your blood run a little slower, make your thoughts a little darker, and somehow still you for a second, I'm not sure if you understand powerful songwriting the same way I do. Because damn. He gets the feeling so right on, he doesn't even need to say it.

"I can hear my train comin'
It's a lonesome and distant cry
I can hear my train comin'
Now I'm runnin' for my life
What makes a man walk away from his mind?
I think I know
I think I might know
I can feel the wind blowin'
It's sending shivers down my spine
I can feel the wind blowin'
It shakes the trees and the power lines
What makes a man spend his whole life in disguise?
I think I know
I think I might know
I think I might know
I think I might know, oh oh
I can see the sun settin'
It's casting shadows on the sea
I can see the sun, it's setting
It's getting colder, starting to freeze
What makes a man want to break a heart with ease?
I think I know
I think I might know
I think I might know
I think I might know, oh oh
Well I can hear my train comin'
Looks like time is not on my side
Well I can hear my train comin'
I'm still runnin' for my life
What makes a man pray, when he's about to die?
I think I know
I think I might know"
~What Makes a Man
City and Colour, Bring Me Your Love

7/21/13

Several years before it was so fashionable to have multi-member folksy pop bands, Margot and the Nuclear So-and-Sos were doing their thing and doing it oh so well. A vastly underappreciated band on many levels, Richard Edwards is a fantastic songwriter capable of poignant, original metaphors and beautiful melodic layers, accented by lap steel and horns. Love this song, for its dynamics and drama.

"I gotta go, and you're talking in code
Saying I know where you've been and I know where you go

I've been tired from the moment I woke
I stopped listening the moment you spoke
and said I'm long gone
yeah, I'm long gone

And I'm sleeping alone
in a house I don't own
cause if you're touring your mind
you'll get lost every time
you'll sing me sad songs to keep me awake
in that bedroom where we hid away
Baby, I'm long gone.
Yeah, I'm long gone.

And your voice cracks like a piano
you keep moving,
but where are you going?
Baby, we're long gone
Yeah, we're long gone"
~Talking in Code,
Margot and the Nuclear So-and-Sos, The Dust of Retreat

7/12/13

Something about this song just screams summertime. Maybe it's the surfer-toned distortion - are those Telecasters?  Maybe the mention of young love. Maybe it's the drumroll before the four-times-through chorus, which is a great tactic for hitting home a great melody and turning a few short lines into a full-fledged song. 

"I said, 'darlin', why so blue?'
She told me, 'I've been missin' you.'
We's a-leaving
She said, stay
She kissed my lips and quickly ran away

Lost some buttons to my overcoat
Pull your knife away from my throat
She said, 'smoke your cigarette, I hope you choke'
Kissed my lips and quickly ran away

I shake, I shake
I can never see
How good a young love could really be.
I know, I know
It's not that bad
Take a look at what we had

Walked you home from the park
I held your hand, it was after dark
Hold me closer, she'll always stay
She kissed my lips and quickly ran away

Lost some buttons to my overcoat
Pull your knife away from my throat
She said, 'smoke your cigarette, I hope you choke'
Kissed my lips and quickly ran away

You shake, you shake
I could never see
How good young love could really be
I know, I know
It's not that bad
Take a look at what we had"
~Buttons
The Weeks, Comeback Cadillac

7/10/13

"You would write it
Then rewrite it
Then erase it

But I heard you had something to say to me
A stronger spine is all you need
So pick up the guts from on the floor
Experienced advice to help you with the choice of words so poor

Well I call it retaliation by definition
You should've known by now
What this resentments all about
I've posted every kind of clue around this town
And everyone seems to see them but you"~Discretion and Depressing People
Into It. Over It., Proper

I've been on a huge Into It. Over It. kick lately - mostly because I crafted the closest-to-perfect Pandora station I've ever done in their name, with the likes of Look Mexico, The Wonder Years, The Weakerthans, Fireworks and a lot of sweet bands I've never heard of filling out the playlist.

If you've never heard "Proper," it's a fascinating, addicting, rabbit-hole of an album. The band overall is really original and authentic, and I think that makes them hard to classify but endlessly fun to listen to. It's not pop-punk, is it? and it's definitely not hardcore. Post-punk? No. Alt rock? Very Death Cab at times, but also has a lot in common with the progressive indie scene and seems rather well-known among pop-punk crowds.  I think we can just call it music and leave it at that.

I just love the variation, I love the feel. Guitar parts alternative between rich, slow electric parts with dreamy crescendos and more pop-punk chord-jamming, then there's mellow acoustic on a couple ballad tracks. Evan Weiss is an inventive lyricist; I love what he does with timing and his penchant for full sentences, and a noticable lack of rhyming that occasionally resolves itself in some poignant, pointed way. There's sometimes a spoken-word feel, like a journal being read aloud, and then you'll get some really obvious melody. And I love the in-line rhyming he so often uses, it flows really well. In songs like this, "Midnight: Carroll Street" you end the song with a bring-it-home, key-spruced climax powerful enough to sounds good loud but not aggressive enough to lose something heartfelt and warm. A winning album, for its intimacy and its quirks, in my book.



"Somewhere between caffeine and nicotine
You will find me unentertained and worn out
Pressed to the steps beside my house

It's somewhere between upset and sick it seems
To still find me the finest quality of pure anxiety
I'm searching for the solace to call you out,
To call you at all.

So somewhere between midnight and Carroll Street
I will find you a colder shoulder than I'm used to
Bending receivers just to hear the truth
I'm demanding some answers
I'm keeping up with double standards
I am between the words you're telling me
With a fine toothed comb
I'm drawing lines in hindsight
Until the stories start to line up right
These details bent and broke us down
The finest rivalry of our anxiety
Searching for the courage to hear you out
To hear you at all
Somewhere between single life and sympathy
You will find me
You will find me

You will find me

7/713

Beautiful day to listen to some Whiskeytown, hot and rainy and a little lazy. Maybe it's the frequency I've been picking up my guitar, maybe it's nostalgia nipping at my heels, or maybe it's just the warm, hazy promise distinct to American summers. But lately the sound of Carolina-bred folk coated in strings and harmonies makes the perfect soundtrack for winding down the weekend. Clears the head, clears the heart and all too easy to sing to.



"Put the houses in a row 
On the streets we used to know 
And all the things out in the yard 
Beckoning there to and fro
 
And if the money isn't right 
Can I be yours tonight? 
I've an easy heart.
 
And from the windows of your house 
Reflects back on yourself.
And it gets you wonderin'  
If it means anything
 
And if the money isn't right 
Can I be yours tonight?  
I've had a pretty hard life,
I've had a pretty hard life for such an easy heart.
 
You move away when you're young  
They take away where you're from 
And all the things out in the trees 
Fall away into the breeze
 
And if the money isn't right 
Can I be yours tonight? 
I've had a pretty hard life,
I've had a pretty hard life for such an easy heart"

~Easy Heart

Whiskeytown, Pneumonia