12/30/15

"I have said to myself in a mirror's company
'Who's that panicked stranger on his knees?'
All I want is to reset how I breathe
And slow down the fear I bleed."
~Composed
MuteMath, Vitals

My list of albums to listen to only moves in one direction, and it's never shorter. Sometimes it means that I rush through first listens just to check them off the list, plugging my headphones while I work, but then I inevitably end up getting interrupted/distracted. What I'm always after is that moment when an album really clicks for me, when I hear something special in it that makes me want to give it another listen.

It took me longer than I'd like to admit to really get into Mute Math's latest release, "Vitals,"  because I hadn't sat with it long enough and only intently listened to sporadic tracks. But then, after a few listens to "Vitals" while walking around with headphones or relaxing in my apartment, I realized that my delayed respect for this record was actually the perfect way to get into it. "Vitals" unfolds much in the same way "Odd Soul" did, with high-energy openers that dissolve into slower-paced electronic deliveries. Catching a few of the verses brought to light the album's message, one of hope and striving in the face of darkness, however real or imagined.

I love the hooks and choruses that color "Light Up" and "Monument," I love the optimism in Paul Meany's voice. There's a lot of talk about the lack of Darren King's excellent drumming on this record - he's there, but not as much in the forefront as he once was - but the beats and rhythmic intensity of this band are as prominent as ever, if not shifting into a direction. I initially found myself wanting more guitars and fewer electronic noises, but I've come to accept this is simply Mute Math's sound these days, evolving from a straightforward rock band to one that relies on the latest and greatest in sound technology to create a more ambient, full effect.

The result is something really shimmering, really light, really gorgeous like "Stratosphere" and "All I See." While I'm inclined to find this kitschy, I love how bright it is, and how the same style of narratives stuck around, acting as a familiar hand guiding me out of my comfort zone. Mute Math is still a thinking man's band, even if the sound seems designed to elicit dancing. They're still at their strongest when they get into the groove, no matter what instruments are playing.

I think this is a really smart effort, one that focuses on a fun, forward sound without ridding the introspection this band has always channeled. Overall, it's sleek, it's lean, it's a powerful little record that brightens up a room before pulling it ever-so-slightly inward. Few bands manage to match this much musical professionalism and intellectual honesty in their records, time and time again. As a fan, I don't mind the evolution, and as a listener, it's a welcome change to indulge in something new.



"I’ve been dreaming
Dreaming of a day in the end
Waiting for someone
To wake me from the dream that I’m in
I’ve been confiscating
Every shred of hope that I can
I keep on mistaking
The future for the places I’ve been
Always the same
Always, forever, we remain
Always the same
I’m dying just to keep my place."
~Remain
MuteMath, Vitals

12/23/15

"There is nothing I've ever done
I didn't learn to be ashamed of
There is no hope or no dream
I won't curse and demean
If that's what it takes
That's what I'll do
If that's what it takes, I will
 
I hope I never get my fill
Of pushing this boulder up on this hill
Getting to the top and taking a spill
Every time's like the first time
Every time is the same

And maybe you don't believe me now
But you will
Until you hang upon such a cross
You won't know a thing about laughter or loss
From Galilee to Gethsemane to Golgotha
Is a short walk, a short, short walk."
~Joset of Nazareth's Blues
Titus Andronicus, The Airing of Grievances

Every year when people start talking about Festivus, I start thinking about Titus Andronicus. I love this song in particular, how joyful and busy its bells and harmonicas are contrasted with the scratched-throat vocals and self-damnation narrative. What a forceful little band, with such a devoted cult following. Their newer releases are just as punk-tastic, fueled by spit and rage and overly literary sentiments. A perfect band to listen to when you're ready to thank the world for all its done to you and repay it in kind, for better or worse...

12/17/15

How many unexpected things can happen in a day, a month, a year? Many, if you're open to whatever the world throws you and leave your expectations at the bottom of the murkiest of oceans that is your own self-involved psyche....which leads me to the AMAZING news of the first song from The Starting Line in eight years!



I'm so happy. I love this band. Always have! I still play "Up and Go" and "Hello Houston" on a regular basis (UTG referred to their releases as within the "golden era of Drive-Thru" and I'd have to agree). Now I find myself loving this song's chord progressions, lead guitar parts and references to waiting and words and watching reality unfold.

I had no idea TSL was still a band - let alone recording, let alone with Will Yip - and perhaps there was news about this that I missed, but at the moment I'm just going to let this just-under three minute track encapsulate my ears for the rest of the workday.

I hate to be cliche, but this year Christmas came early.

"I assumed that I could do no harm 
until I started to lose my charm 
I gotta go and put it all away
but i can't help to think about it almost every day
I was anxious right before your eyes
but i was sure to always wear my smile 

I know we've overcome a lot of pain 
cause it's so hard to be human in so many ways 
overcome most my life
i should be swallowing all my pride

I've had a lifetime to wait
such a magnificent drain on all my energy 
I want another word, awake
until the right words fall into place anyway
Anyways."
~Anyway
The Starting Line, Anyways

12/10/15

"I'm here reaching out again,
Lead into the wind on my knees
My fear is a memory
It's a reverie and I'm free
I wanna take this crown from my head,
I wanna build something with my hands
I will send a transmission home
To say that I've been out here too long alone
And I wanna come down now
I will send a transmission home
To say I should have called in so long ago
And I wanna come down."
~Transmission Home
Yellowcard, Lift a Sail 
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I am going to have the privilege of seeing Yellowcard this Saturday, checking off a 12-year concert goal from my ever-growing, never-shrinking list of artists I hope to see live.

A lot of people know Yellowcard from their "Ocean Avenue" days - their true breakthrough in the scene back in 2003 - but I've kept an ear on them since and they're almost a more influential band to me now, in my late 20s, than they were in my teens. Sure, I played the hell out of "Only One" back in the day (and I still do!!)  but the added depth and maturity of their later work is really worth digging into.

Their sound has evolved into one that's much fuller, and less catering to the (expertly done) fiddle trope they built their reputation. New Yellowcard is an unfiltered brand of rock music, but one that's rooted in a very emo and scene place, enough to be warm and familiar and more melodic than what you might find on the radio or wherever that boring brand of rock music lives (you know, the kind for large men with pick-up trucks and arm band tattoos. I'm generalizing, but you get the idea).

Last year's "Lift a Sail" has grown on me so much - it's a record that definitely needs some time to familiarize with because at first it does feel very "collection of songs" and therefore easy to dismiss. But I found myself seeking out their hooks and choruses and key changes. As much as I've grown to appreciate its solemn reflection and anthematic choruses, though, this isn't my favorite record of theirs. That goes to "Paper Walls," a record I've played more in the past year than I have in the previous seven. Why it took me so long to get attached to I cannot say, but "Fighting," "Shadows and Regrets" and "You and Me and One Spotlight" are now some of my favorite songs in their catalog. I can't wait to see if they're still in the band's rotation.

I'm hoping to get a new appreciation for their musicianship - but most of all I'm just hoping for that feeling you get at concerts sometimes, the one where you know the songs before they start, sing too loud, get lost in a crowd, and feel like you're home. Coming from a band like this, that I discovered years ago in a different place but will always associate with the place I am now, that feeling is as timeless, freeing and grounding as you can hope to find in a life full of moving parts and morphing attitudes.



"I heard, heard myself
Say things I take back
If I could, could retell
And make these stories last
I see, see shadows
Of who you'll always be
I drive, drive these roads
Made of memories
When we were only kids
And we were best of friends
And we hoped for the best
And let go from the rest
Shadows and regrets
We let go from the rest."
~Shadows and Regrets
Yellowcard, Paper Walls

12/7/15

In this noisy, terrible modern world, where everyone shouts or shoots or hates, I still do what I always used to do: Put on my headphones, lower my eyelids, and try not to weep openly at the fact that life is a gift and we are so good at wasting it, so busy busying ourselves with differences that we lose the utter sameness we ought to celebrate.



"It's getting weirder
Than I projected
It's saying something
In all directions:
'I held the fear in my mouth
I choked it down and now I'll never let it out.'"
~Redbird
Kevin Devine, Bubblegum

12/4/15

Post "Coming Home" New Found Glory records are all sort of a noisy blur to me, I never paid much attention, but I am unashamed to admit how much I enjoy it when "Vicious Love" comes on YouTube. Impossible-to-ignore chorus, solid harmonies and those sweet, sweet Chad Gilbert progressions. (Also, how have I never, in all these years, tagged New Found Glory before?!)



"I could have given up a thousand times
In the past that was so easy
When the thought came to my mind
There was no convincing me
Plant my feet to face it all
Side by side or a phone call
Living in tension with you
Still feels better
Better than I’ve ever known.

We’ve got a vicious love
We mix our tears with blood
No clock will stop for us
It ticks by
We fight as hard as we love
We’ve got a vicious love."
~Vicious Love
New Found Glory, Resurrection

11/30/15

Now I've been given the gift of persistence
But it's become a curse
Unraveling backward
In the distance I heard a dirge
I can see a man
On his face there's no trace of time
There's a strange and mad idea I must find

If I try to change direction
I might not find what I'm looking for
But this bitter disposition
Well now must surely run its course

~Mizzy C

City and Colour, If I Should Go Before You

Timing is a blessing sometimes, in the sense that you happen to click with an album two days prior to hearing its headlining tour. No surprise that it is from City and Colour, in the cleanest and smooth and almost jazzy-ish we've heard from them yet.

Dallas Green's voice is as fragile yet shimmering with a confidence as always. There's an extra boldness, maybe coming from the extra back-up of a full band composing these songs together. I love the emphasis on guitar solos, plugged-in ones on full, retro Gibsons.

This coming from a listener who is still wowed by "The Hurry and the Harm" all the time. I'm so so excited to see him perform for the first time at a great venue Wednesday night....and even more excited to find I may be able to make it to an in-studio live session tomorrow!! Private!! My heart may literally may explode,and I couldn't be any happier to see fireworks.

I’m looking for a way out
For a place that no one knows
Please take me away now
Somewhere it don’t feel so cold

Troubles on my mind
Troubles on my mind
For the rest of the days I’ve cried
For the rest of the days I’ve cried

I’m searching for a paradise
That I just can’t seem to find
I’m searching for a paradise
For the time of my life

I’m searching for a paradise
That I just can’t seem to find
I’m searching for a paradise
Gonna go where the spirit guides
~Paradise

City and Colour, The Hurry and the Harm

11/25/15

I don't like Adele. I don't! Never have. Found her annoying from the start. But, she's apparently the newest record-setter for album sales, I don't really care for her voice, or her sap, but goddammit if I wasn't hypnotized by this performance (which I only found because I was reading about a producer on The Fader during my lunch break).



I gotta give it up for this. And I have to watch it again. Her vocal ability is spot-on as she nails every high note and run-on melody. The song is less annoying lyrically than some others, and the setting of simple gutiar parts and back-up signers in the studio is exactly the way ballads should be recorded live. I also love the little two-note guitar part that starts before the pre-chorus, the way it builds into something more. Her change-up of lyrics it the final chorus has a peel-back-the-curtain effect. And, in full disclosure, earlier today I saw a recording of her performing that too-ubiquitous "Hello" single w/Jimmy Fallon and The Roots as one of their rather clever classroom instrument renditions, and it was pretty impossible to not enjoy it, if only for noticing the great instincts and reactions of the band around her song and performance.

Ugh, so, am I changing my tune on Adele? Meh. I am not going to purchase "25." I'm not!! But maybe I won't mind as much when she comes up in random playlists, knowing that her performance skills are so incredibly strong, and her sense of romance in her lyrics maybe isn't all radio cliches after all.

"Let me photograph you in this light
In case it is the last time,
That we might be exactly like we were
Before we realized
We were sad of getting old
It made us restless
I'm so mad I'm getting old
It makes me reckless
It was just like a movie
It was just like a song
When we were young."
~When We Were Young,
Adele, 25

11/23/15

 
"Been missing my roots
I'm getting rid of the flash
Nobody needs a thousand-dollar suit just to take out the trash
Ain't gotta be alone to feel lonely
I'm gonna turn off my phone, start catching up with the old me
It's high time
To slow my roll
Let the grass just grow and lean way back
It's a fine time
To let it it all go
I've been too low, so it's high time."
~High Time
Kacey Musgraves, Pageant Material  

In what appears to be a few short years Kacey Musgraves has gone from a just-hatched country star to one of the most interesting female songwriters of this era -- in my estimation, at least. Her latest album "Pageant Material" is one that has steadily grown on me over the past few months - from a few cursory listens to singles that caught my ear, to listening through the album a few times through headphones. What I hear is not the standard country-girl songwriter that Musgraves, at firsts glance, appears to be, but rather a storyteller sharing her perspective of her upbringing, her opportunities, her growth, with as much honesty and wit as one can muster.

Like, she's legitimately funny, which is something that is so hard to do in lyrics. But in her blunt, quiet way, Musgraves shares a perspective that is patient as much as it is eyes-wide-open, and with that comes a sense of humor. Musically, these aren't exactly country radio primetime, in the way Maddie and Tae or Kelsey Ballerini have secured for the time being, but I think they're more elevated than that - there's quintessential lap steel, more than a few whistling and handclaps for a honky-tonk vibe, and some really beautiful falsetto moments. "Pageant Material" is a collection of songs that are all well-composed individually, but ones that stand together stronger. A chorus as tongue-in-cheek as "Biscuits" rings a little more true and honest followed by the serious wondering about self-doubt and self-love in "Somebody to Love."

The thoughtfulness behind a call to a life-well-lived "Die Fun" is dually noted, as is the occasional unfortunate truths that we feel about our loved ones outlined in "Family is Family." But what strikes me as most unusual, and unique, and worth celebrating about "Pageant Material" is how Musgraves chooses to focus on so many other topics rather than romance. Not that she can't write a love song - "Late to the Party" was instantly one of my favorite tracks - but she tackles so many other realms of thought and feeling, ones that speak to finding her place in the world as an adult and a woman and a person of many persuasians, rather than as simply a woman who is looking to love and be loved.

Once during a music class in high school, probably my junior year, a teacher asked us what most music was about. The answer, written on the white board in blue marker, was "Love." That's what sells records, Mrs.Hamilton told us. And she wasn't wrong, that's what pulls at our soul the most, those are the feelings with struggle with the most....but there is so much more to us than that, even as artists to explore. With "Good Ol' Boys Club" and the title track, Musgraves stakes her claim as an intelligent writer, an observant citizen of our modern age, and a damn wry lyricist.  But she also doesn't run from matters of love and companionship, rather, she puts them in context of a life as colorful, adventurous and open-minded as she frames herself to be.



"Let's put a little more in your glass
Walk around and spend all our cash
Just let me grab my poncho, I don't care where we go
If we speak the language you know we don't even have to come back
We can't do it over
They say it's now or never and all we're ever gettin' is older
Before we get to heaven, baby let's give 'em hell
We might as well
Cause we don't know when we're done
So let's love hard, live fast, die fun."
~Die Fun,
Kacey Musgraves, Pageant Material 

11/12/15

There's a post going around IG that says "Toss your hair in a bun, drink some coffee, put on some gangsta rap, and handle it." I feel that way sometimes but about Tool.

"Angels on the sideline,
Puzzled and amused.
Why did Father give these humans free will?
Now they're all confused.

Don't these talking monkeys know that
Eden has enough to go around?
Plenty in this holy garden, silly monkeys,
Where there's one you're bound to divide it.
Right in two."
~Right in Two
Tool, 10,000 Days

11/9/15

"I saw this woman with tears in her eyes
Driving beside me yesterday.
She turned her head then I turned mine
And I watched her drive away.

I thought 'If I could tell her something I would tell her this
There's only two mistakes that I have made.
It's running from the people who could love me best
And trying to fix a world that I can't change.'
 
All our lives
I watch you search beneath the falling skies
This was no path to glory
You always walk before me
But you came back to warn me
All our lives."

~All Our Lives,

Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness, Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness

I'm more than a little late on the album from former Something Corporate/Jack's Mannequin frontman Andrew McMahon, a record where he proves he is so much more than those bands and names that he has built his reputation on. For the sake of nostalgia, I don't think I'll love his newer work as much as I did his past records, but this is its own little shiny gem. It proves McMahon is the rare musician (in this age, anyway) who pursues his art regardless of expected structure, and worked his way onto the pop airwaves from the indie label on up.

I listened to it after hearing the "Cecelia and the Satellite " single enough times on the radio. Almost every song has just as satisfying of a chorus, tons of piano and bells and little catchy melodies, and some very open-hearted lyrics, true to his form.It's very clear-eyed and bright, even when in the midst of soul-searching in a less than perfect world. It's not too happy, as introspection and mortality lurk around the edges, but sonically its sunny as hell without betraying his emo roots. I like how effortlessly it blends dance-pop, fist-bump beats with silky, soaring piano parts, like on "Black and White Movies," there's something both current and elegant about it.

I hope there's critics who are smarter and savvier than me to parce through McMahon's latest releases, his earliest recordings and channel what has happened in his not-easy life in parallel with what he has produced.  No doubt his illness, his relationships made him grow and change, thus thrusting his work in a new direction. But while many artists find the trials of life pull them away from their art and damage their potential reach and success (cause life is hard, even when it's easy), McMahon did this wonderful thing where he *found* greater success through the journey. What an incredible story to tell, or to hear. 

"Are you home tonight?
Are you laying in bed watching black and white movies?
All alone tonight
Do you ever rewind to the summer you knew me?"
~Black and White Movies,  
Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness, Andrew McMahon and the Wilderness

11/6/15

"So now you show up when you're alone again
But we haven't changed, but now you're interested
And maybe you're here because you wanna come home
But what if you're just afraid to be alone

I guess I don't know how
You'd want it back now
I thought you got yourself a way out
How do I prove it to myself you're ready now
God I want to

Now you want me
But what if your heart's a liar
Cause if you change your mind again
I'll burn like a wildfire
Like a wildfire."
~Wildfire
Marianas Trench, Astoria 

Goddammit, Marianas Trench did it again. These guys are insane!!!

Once again they created a symphonic pop epic, one that is in sync with their than their past releases. When I first heard it I wasn't sure what to think it felt a little too busy, a little too overambitious, but then I find myself unable to listen to anything else. I am helpless, but to succumb to their beautiful, unique brand of emo-colored power pop.

I can't get these songs out of my head. So, I guess they win.

Initially, I didn't like the 6-minute title track opener (not as much as much as I adore "Ever After," anyway, which might be one of my top 10 favorite songs of the decade). This one felt a little more all over the place, and it gets dark and stark and incrementally deeper as it tries for hook after hook within each perfectly measured verse. But when I returned to the album for the second time I felt more attached and invested to this sprawling sound. I realized this is their scene setter - and all that busyness and highs and lows and climatic moments are a precursor of what's to come.

The entire record is smoothed over and tied together with the incredible performance of Josh Ramsay. His high notes in "Wildfire" during the chorus are the pinnacle of this, as his the piano performance on "Forget Me Not." The instrumental outro on that, dubbed "And Straight on til Morning" in what I hope is a beautiful reference to Peter Pan, is as perfect a cinematic display as you could hope to find. "One Love" deserves to be played on all the radio stations. The whole thing shines with beautiful pop production that seems to sample from all decades and genres. Remember, Ramsay is the guy who helped write "Call Me Maybe," as he not-so-subtley references in the single I wished was on this album.

This band is consistently fun to listen to, and I think that's why I love them so much. You instantly know an M.Trench song, and then you relish the toe-tapping that comes after. Pretty much everyone I have suggested them to winds up hooked on their sing-a-along choruses, tongue-in-cheek humor and goth-pop attire. They're sort of an anti-hero, in some ways -- not quite radio friendly, not quite DIY or stripped down enough for the pop punk scene, but they're definitely rock and roll, even under the handclaps and woodblocks and harmonized bridges.

Lyrically, "Astoria" is blunt and brash and hopeful.  The wordplay on this album is so interesting and invented ("From fable to fumble, from stable to stumble, nevermore/I'll say goodbye to my demons and all my break-evens, ever yours") and I find myself wondering what the hell he's talking about while still knowing exactly where he's coming from. Marianas Trench has this really cliche, awkward feel to them sometimes (See the impossible-to-ignore hook of "Burning Up" and the strange, self-deprecating Michael Jackson reference of "Shut Up and Kiss Me") but that's part of the charm. They embrace it, own it, this kind of dirty-under-the-surface style. Even when the word choices feel sampled or clumsy, they at least fit the rhyme scheme perfectly, creating this off-kilter, less-than-perfect pop anthem, and it becomes a real strength. What they lack in trendiness they make up for in edge. As with "Ever After," this record strives for concept album territory, but it's a little fuzzy around the edges. I'm still not clear what "Astoria" is or what it stands for - a town? An enclave? A spaceship full of synthesizers and Pro Tools? Whatever it is, it sounds very romantic. There's a lot of romance on this album, come to think of it, a lot of relived regrets and aspiring in the face of the defeated unknown, and hope for the future.

Listening to this album would feel like a guilty pleasure if 1) I didn't believe in such a thing, 2) It wasn't so damn good to listen to in the first place.



"I'll see whatever doesn't make me stronger kills me
But it's going to be a long year till the hospital might find hope in me

Let the melody save me, Astoria
The quid pro quos that we'll compose from esoteric to common prose....
Astoria." 
~Astoria
Marianas Trench, Astoria 

11/3/15

"Lover you may cause me tears
Drag me through the best of years
But I love you so.

Any of the songs I wrote
Older than a year or two
But I love you so."

Must absolutely get this out there: I love The Staves so so much. If there was ever an incentive to clear your throat to sing, it's their perfectly close  harmonies layered over gently plucked strings. I came across them a couple years ago, but rediscovered their work this year via a documentary about touring in VW vans called "austin to boston" and remembered how beautiful they are, and also that they are British. 

The past few days, they're all I want to listen to, paying close attention to how they divide their parts and soar effortlessly between ranges. For all the talented singer-songwriters out there, for all the talented trios, I think it's rare to find a sound this instantly mature and realized. Haunting refrains in "Make it Holy" on their 2013 release "If I Was" have me captivated, like play-it-on-the-hour kind of listening, but their debut LP "Dead & Born & Grown" suits this time of year so well, the kind of americana folk blend that feels pure and timeless and heartfelt and warm. Songs are equal parts romantic and independent, walking that line between emotional release and reverent realistic self-awareness, which is also good for fall. There's some solid auxiliary and accompaniment, but the harmonies steal the spotlight every time. The acoustics are uncluttered and crisp, I love how it is recorded. But even more worth a listen is their live recordings, with harmonies floating through the air. Just beautiful, and not just for its own sake.         

Carry me home on your shoulders
Lower me onto my bed
Show me the night that I dreamed about before."
~Mexico

The Staves, Dead and Born and Grown

10/28/15

Someone once told me time will seem to move faster as you get older and I'm starting to think that's true. Has it really been one whole year since "1989" came out? Hard to believe - but not so much a surprise that we're still all enthralled by Taylor Swift's best record and pop masterpiece.

Just stumbled across the performed she did of "Out of the Woods" on solo piano, and it's incredibly gorgeous. I'm really impressed with her vocal on the bridge, it's strong and soaring but intimate.

How many ways will we will hear this album re-imagined? I'm a little worried about fatigue, but it hasn't hit yet, as I find myself still wanting to hear these songs. Time to g home and play all these songs over again, and count down the days til the Ryan Adams' vinyl drops.



"Remember when you hit the brakes too soon
Twenty stitches in a hospital room
When you started crying
Baby, I did too
But when the sun came up
I was looking at you.
Remember when we couldn't take the heat
I walked out, I said, I'm setting you free
But the monsters turned out to be just trees
When the sun came up
You were looking at me."
~Out of the Woods
Taylor Swift, 1989 

10/26/15

"Years ago, my heart was set to live, oh
But I've been trying hard against unbelievable odds
It gets so hard in times like now to hold on
My guns they're waiting to be stuck by
At my side is God

And there ain't no one goin' turn me 'round
Ain't no one goin' turn me 'round."

~Ballad of El Goodo, #1 Record.
Big Star

Over the past week or so I've learned I cannot get enough of Big Star, the best band of the latter 20th century whose mass-market destiny was shot down by forces beyond their own control but whose talent never faded.

They were on my radar, in the background, back in the day for their authorship of "Thirteen" and its subsequent gorgeous covers, but learning about the band via Netflix doc has me floored, unable to grasp the fact that there was music this good being created that most listeners, as far as the masses were concerned, never heard.

Their story is an exceptionally tragic pairing of ego and industry, both in states of implosion. This sound is so perfectly encapsulating what would've been a hit ... "Radio City" is as close to a perfect album as I have heard in some time. "Back of the Car"is the greatest teenage love song I never heard before,  the harmonica counterpoint in "Life is White" is blues rock at its best, and the outro harmonies on "What's Going Ahn" are ghostly, and haunting. This record has no dull moments.

But, their debut, "#1 Record" is so good, too, so rich and pure, full of contrasting melodies, sing-a-long hooks cloaked in a cynicism. I believe someone in the Netflix described it as close to a perfect record, and I am inclined to agree. Alex Chilton and Chris Bell follow in the footsteps of Lennon-McCartney, with the added benefit of free-wheeling rock 'n' roll of the 1970s informing their efforts. These songs have a softer edge than "Radio City," which brings an edgier tone and a little more structure. Then we get to "Third/Sister Lovers," and there we find this band exploring boundaries it only previously toed, as far as dynamics and range and scope. Each record of theirs is progressively wild, pressing boundaries, but still so centered on what it means to write rock songs of weight and consequence.

Discovering this band has re-centered me musically, in the way that I was shifted as a teenager when I discovered Zeppelin. Just because something was released decades ago doesn't mean it can't be appreciated in today's environment - in fact, it deserves more of a spotlight if only to better compare against those who are trying to make moves and be the greats today.  I think what gets me the most is that no matter how many listeners did or did not get to absorb and adore Big Star in their heyday, is how absolutely breathtaking their sound is decades later. True style, true talent, it does not fade with the trends of the times.

"I like love but I don't know
All these girls, they come and go
Always nothing left to say

And I resigned everyone
Ever since I was young
I'm starting to understand
What's going on and how it's planned."
~What's Going Ahn, Radio City
Big Star

10/16/15

"I’m not confident about a lot of other aspects of my life, but I know how to write a song."
-Taylor Swift to Chuck Klosterman, GQ October 2015

Yes, she really fucking does. I love most of them. Heard Tim McGraw on the radio today, even. So pretty! This is worth reading, as a story of an artist, who is also the most famous there is right now, more or less.

10/12/15

"I just see everybody working for that same eternal weekend
Droning on and on and on and never doing what we wanted
Heavy legs two steps behind some forever dangling carrot.

and I'm tired of this
So who's to say that we can't just fucking change it?

Oh they want you to whistle while you work, 

they want you to whistle while you work your life away.

Oh they want you to whistle while you work, 

they expect you to whistle while you work your life away.

and I know it seems dramatic
but I treat it like a crisis The office to the coffin
All our time and talent wasted
and that weight against your throat
is that a noose dressed like a necklace?

From here I couldn't really tell the difference

Come on show me the difference 

Come on and show me the difference

Either way I say let's not take more chances."

~Noose Dressed Like a Necklace
Kevin Devine and the Goddamn Band, Matter of Time

Approaching Kevin Devine's catalog is a bit like when you're on a hike approaching a series of boulders and rocks in your way - you have no idea how the hell you are going to get through it all, but you know you'll get somewhere once you do. Few songwriters in this age are as accomplished and underrated, I would say. Has KD ever reached any kind of critical success beyond the emo/punk circles that gave him credit and fame to start back when? If not, they ought to, because if there's anything more impressive than the consistency Devine manages to produce, it's the astute observations and sociopolitical pronouncements he espouses, the kind that many artists who want to "make a statement" wish they could say something about. At a time when everyone is shouting, this guy is actually saying something worth listening to.

I'm knee-deep toady by listening to "Matter of Time" remastered, a collection of songs recorded about three years ago but only recently were re-released in a shiny and new package for a vinyl release. So glad I found this. The production on these is fantastic, I love the full-band sound that's backing him up and tearing into solos and cymbal crashes as Devine shouts his guts aloud. He is a great guitar player but he's a wordsmith first and foremost; his ability to string together three dozen word thoughts in a single verse is unmatched. This was clearly recorded at a time when they were onto something, and the live recording highlights just how good these players are -- locked in and ready to crescendo when they must, or dial down and let it the strings fade out at the last word. Probably helps they've got great material to work with - these songs offer an approachable, tried-and-true rock sound with off-kilter perspective and a hell of a lot of energy and grit.

What's captured in this live studio session is what you get at one of their shows, blissfully so. I had the privilege of seeing him & the Goddamn Band in concert earlier this year and I get chills every time I think about it. Just as impressive was the part where the mic dropped out and he quieted the sing-along crowd to get through (I think it was) an acoustic cover of "It Never Stops." He was a maestro, conducting himself as much as the rest of his band and the audience, both humble offering and

This guy, I'm telling you. He's not fucking around. For years, I looked at his catalog as something kind of ancillary and also-ran, and it wasn't until 2015 that I realized what a mistake that was. Fortunately, there's a ton left to discover and absorb, and I'd wager that Devine, with his inimitable voice and perspective, won't tire or slow down in his steps to share these honest passages of tired American life. At least, I hope not. I just want more of this sound, full and feisty and frustrated, unfettered.



"And I'm grabbing at a feeling now
That I can't ever name.
Some sign posted to remind me
How I wanted things this way.
She says 'It's pretty but you hate yourself.
I can hear it clear as day.'
 And I say 'I sing like this,
It sounds worse than it is. '

I'm okay, okay.
I'm okay, okay.
I'm okay, okay.
I'm okay, okay.
So just stay, just stay
So just stay, just stay
I'm okay, okay. So just stay, just stay,
Just stay, just stay."
~No Time Flat
Kevin Devine and the Goddamn Band, Matter of Time 

10/11/15

Some songs you love in a singular context - there's no connection to the artist's catalog, albums or performances, it's just this one song you hear and hear and hear and it's perfect every time. That is Ron Pope's "Drop in the Ocean" - while I'm sure he's a very talented piano player and songwriter and has a lot of good things to say, I can only come back to this perfect beautiful song.

I believe it's a Pandora discovery, but every time it winds up on a channel of mine I love it. His voice is equal parts delicate and clear, managing full-throated held notes and occasional falsetto. A quick review of his discography tells me this was on his 2008 debut - the fact I still hear it so often in 2015, though, says something about how this might be the song that winds up defining his career. And if it is, what a beautiful thing that would be - I love the wanting in this song, and how hopeful the chorus is despite this rather melancholy setting of droughts and deserts.There's heartbreak here, but it's not accepted, it's not giving in.

I should listen to more solo piano songs like this today. There's something so sophisticated and uncluttered about it, and also quite impressive. I love imaging fingers dancing across keys and finding all the right notes. I love how crisp and bright and still dramatic the sound can be, I love how it highlights words and stories layered above it. It shows how powerful one good melody can be, when you don't need any other adornments. In this little relatively unknown song, with just voice and piano, there is so much beauty and simplicity and expression, a devotion to undying love, the kind that isn't little or unknown at all, and I just love how timeless and human that is.

"It's just a drop in the ocean
A change in the weather
I was praying that you and me might end up together
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert
But I'm holding you closer than most 
'Cause you are my heaven."
~Drop in the Ocean
Ron Pope, Daylight

9/29/15

"Wearing all your best clothes
Up until the sun rose
Laying in the backyard
Just picking up the dead stars
Go ahead and tell them all the world
Never change this
You're the living proof, yeah, it's dangerous
Snow covered streets
So, where you really wanna be

Come on, follow me down
Yeah, while you move your mouth around
Follow me down
You said, 'be the one they talk about.'
 
Staring at a crack in the window by your bed,
Stumble over your words in bed
Tell me where we're going, where the bad win
So I follow her down."
~Follow Me Down
Lydia, Run Wild


When I first decided to listen to the new Lydia record Saturday morning, I had no idea I would end up playing it all weekend long. This is a fun one. Easy breezy beats and dead-on satisfying guitar parts made the new Lydia record my go-to listening this week - I even bought it on iTunes so I could headphones-it. I think what I like the most about it is how surprisingly good it is.

This is one of those bands that sort of passed me by back when they had their heyday - the release of "Illuminate" didn't catch me immediately, though I've come to appreciate its beauty years later. I didn't make much of the band after singer/keys player Mindy White left to start States, and it wasn't until after hearing Capital Cities that I checked out the musicians' earlier work. I've come to find it really beautiful and emotive and full - but as beautiful as an album as it is, it never reached any sort of regular rotation for me. "Run Wild," though, is as addictive as its lusty, glittering hooks aim to be.

At first listen, it sounds more like the electro pop of Capital Cities than the full band sound of Lydia. But I like the lightness, I like the effervescence, and I like the space. The production of Aaron Marsh is an obvious benefit, and I hear a lot of his styling here: the way the backing strings build and the verses slow a bit before a deep and sentimental chorus. The riffs themselves. And I love Leighton's voice, a raspy, tired sound that feels fresh and modern and floats over drum beats and handclaps and synthy strings; it sounds like mainstream pop filtered through a graceful indie gauze. And there we have the golden thread of past Lydia releases, a sound that has shifted with trends without sacrificing the lust-fueled, wide-eyed orientation.

There's a few really great moments on this record, like the cinemtatic chorus of "Late Nights" like the 80s warm pop glow of "Paper Love" and its Coldplay-esque guitar lines. I like how this record always seems to be catching its breath, with melodic little riffs and floating harmonies and  interesting rhythms in interesting places. I can't get enough of it. Might have to check out their past catalog a litlte more than the occasional thumbs-up on Pandora. A sound like this - something modern and peppy but oh so familiar - surrenders to the present, without erasing the past. 



"I watched the trains on the coast, they're moving me
I washed your hands like the wind blowing the breeze
I saw the sky open up your blue and grey
I saw that, I saw that night life running through your veins."
~Late Nights
Lydia, Run Wild

9/21/15

"Like any great love 
it keeps you guessing
Like any real love
it's ever changing
Like any true love it drives you crazy
But you know you wouldn't change
Anything anything anything."
~Welcome to New  York 
Taylor Swift as performed by Ryan Adams, 1989 

I probably don't need to say any more adoring things about Ryan Adams on this blog but he covered the entirety of Taylor Swift's "1989" and it is amazing. Amazing! I cannot stop listening to it.

The authentic profound messages of these songs come across a lot stronger without the glitz and shine of a pop record - Ryan Adams also has better delivery than Swift does, partly because he's been doing it as long as she's been alive. Hear how he takes the hooks and stretches them out across bars instead of repeating them, and how he gracefully falsettos at the crest of them. I'm noticing different lyrics and meanings behind them; the flirtation of "Blank Space" is replaced with a sad hope, and the in-your-face attitude of "Shake it Off" is replaced with an ode to overcoming anxiety. Not that those traits weren't found in the original recordings, if you searched heard enough, but here they are that much clearer.

Turning "Out of the Woods" into a waltzy ballad was an obvious - and brilliant - choice. It sounds so much like a Ryan Adams song, like something out of the Heartbreaker era, with gentle guitars and a slow kick backbeat and rich, string-filled outro. It might be the best musical section of the record. I think it's the one I'm the most surprised by, and my immediate favorite. That and "Shake it Off," with its woodblock rhythm and breezy keys. He removes a lot of the words and pre-chorus structures, and it makes the meaning that much stronger - same with "Blank Space," a song I regularly sing and dance to but loved without its punchlines.

Some tracks he doesn't change too much but just adopts - like the piano-set "This Love," and "Clean," which is sped up slightly and decorated with guitars instead of automated bells and xylophone. A song that, in Taylor's word, is a little flippant like "All You Had To Do Was Stay" suddenly becomes a forlorn kiss-off, with a slightly syncopated melody and a warmth that wasn't there before. It reminds me of the quiet restraint he started exhibiting about 10 years ago in his solo work, the kind that his self-titled last year celebrated.



"When you're young, you run,
When you're young, you run,
When you're young, you run,
But you come back to what you need." 
~This Love,
Taylor Swift as performed by Ryan Adams, 1989

I anticipate this record all summer long, being a huge fan of both artists and really into their latest work. Now that it's here I can't wait to revisit "1989," a record that was all kinds of fun and romantic and dreamy and uplifting in the winter of 2014. Who didn't love this record? To hear in this way, filtered through the mind and fingers of an artist I love as much as Ryan Adams, is a gift. His motivations for doing it are as pure they could be - and his praise of Swift is, too.

In a broader sense, a crossover record like this promises to marry the fan bases of two at-a-glance disparate artists and show, quite easily, how much they have in common. Too often I hear people write off Taylor Swift as a product of a machine, not knowing how much she can write and build and convey. And despite his epic catalog there's still a lot of people who aren't familiar with Ryan Adams at all, or who might not realize how sound and strong and touching he can be. I love that this happened.  I love that I can hear it and share it and enjoy it.  I love that something so "mainstream" is so fulfilling, restoring my faith in the tastes of the masses at large and the idea that music, in all its form, can truly unite.



"I never miss a beat
I'm lightning on my feet
And that's what they don't see,
That's what they don't see.
I'm dancing on my own
I make the moves up as I go
And that's what they don't know,
That's what they don't know

'Cause the players gonna play, 
And the haters gonna hate,
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, 
Baby, I'm just gonna shake. "
~Shake it Off 
Taylor Swift as performed by Ryan Adams, 1989

9/15/15

"I'm not the tiger he never had,
I'm not the first hit when you got it bad.
I'm not your second, I'm not your third but
I'll be your bird.

I'm not your Chesnutt,
I'm not your Mould,
I'm not your DJ on late night radio,
I'll be the first one to ask where you were,
I'll be your bird."

~I'll Be Yr Bird
M.Ward, Transistor Radio

This is my favorite album today, simply because I forgot it existed and how gorgeous it is. M.Ward is one of the most effective active songwriters, who I remember loving a good 10-12 years ago before his sound seemed to be adopted by a hundred others. When I first heard "Carolina." his voice hypnotized me and my heart broke and to this day it's one of my favorite songs. But as far as his impressive album catalog goes, I think "Transistor Radio" is my favorite - because of the way it flows, the way it cackles, the way it sucks you in and creates so much space between the sounds.

I've made the mistake of abandoning my guitar a little too much lately, and this record makes me want to run home and play, play, play. When this guy solos you can feel the pluck of every string - and while he plays at the pinnacle of folk mastery, there's an allegiance to the basics before showing off. He shows how much you can do with strumming and just a couple layers of sound and harmonies. The lap steel highlights are subtle enough to be heard without kitsch. Upbeat moments are Americana through and through, and the plucked solos shine among the saloon-style piano.

Lyrically, our narrator is a sad, solitary heart who weeps openly throughout, using these effortless verses that don't follow a strict structure, that don't beg for hooks, and instead just breeze across the guitars' backbone. He doesn't overly dress up the hook, opting for choice phrases that are repeated, and his voice is as quintessential as they come. I love how unencumbered his words are - how free from overemphasis they are - keeping it simple through and through.

In this era, when the sensitive twee songwriter type is a dime a dozen, and that folksy Americana sound has been homogenized and filtered and adopted by the mainstream, it is a worthy trip back to examine the modern roots of this sound. The kind of sound songwriters like M.Ward were polishing off long before some one-off seven-piece was soundtracking fashion commercials with their mediocre banjo solos. Happy to have rediscovered this record now, as is it carries the perfect fall aesthetic - soft and patient, wistful and warm, all the things you feel when the sky is suddenly dark and the near-dead leaves crunch under your feet and your heart finds a little comfort in the cold.

https://youtu.be/TAEkn0htBEg

"I dug beneath the wall of sound
I ended up back where I started
The song is always the same
Got lonesome fuel for fire

And so my heart is always on the line
I've traveled all kinds of places
The story's always the same
Got lonesome fuel for fire."
~Fuel for Fire
M.Ward, Transistor Radio

9/8/15

"And I was afraid, but you were glowing like,
A most relieving light.
You were my revealing light.

I close my eyes and suddenly we were attached.
You stayed with me after the moment passed,
I felt you buried deep under my chest,
Like my lungs when I’m breathing in,
And I was not myself when I opened up my eyes again."

~Like Slow Disappearing

Turnover, Peripheral Vision

Lately I've been getting lost in "No Closer To Heaven," but the past two days I revisited an album that continues to captivate as much as it did the first time I heard it this year - Turnover's "Peripheral Vision." I took it in completely when it came out this May and played it several times over the summer, only to hear its tracks hold out pretty well on Pandora. Coming back to the LP was a solid choice - few bands are this good at keeping away from filler, and there isn't much of a weak moment to speak of here.

What a warm, resplendent sound this is, with choruses and hooks that sneak up on you. The landscape is awash in vintage emo tones but somehow sleeker, played through cleaner guitars but willing to lock into their groove. Forty minutes of desperation and wandering begin with the brilliant "Cutting My Fingers Off," a song that toys with tempo in all the right ways without losing a silky, melodic feel. I'm equally obsessed with the lovesick "Humming," which somehow manages to pull off peppy without losing the moodiness that precedes and follows it. The dueling verses in "Diazepam" are equal parts sad and honest and refreshing. 

What I love about this record is its consistency, and how it unfurls. The layers that feed off one another, from interesting, unstructured lyrical patterns, to muted guitars acting as intros and adornments before their centerstage licks, wrapped up in a steady, slow bass and familiar backbeat.

I checked out some of their older work after this record and I can't say it took me in quite the same way; "Peripheral Vision" has a feel that pushes the genre's boundaries rather than living squarely between them, and I prefer the more interesting parts and sounds. The heavy echo and delay here, underscored by occasional backing harmonies to the subtle, muted leads, creates a sound that reminds me at once of 80s English rock and mid-aughts pop punk, committed to the slower sound.  I'll take the combination, in all its wistful warmth and beleaguered maturity. Turnover made something special with this one and I hope the audiences at large treat them well for it. 

"Cause I can still remember when you were afraid of the darkAnd I told you to come and you followed where I asked you to go

Would you come here and spin with me?
I've been dying to get you dizzy,
Find a way up into your head
So I can make you feel like new again."

~Dizzy on the Comedown
Turnover, Peripheral Vision

9/4/15

"If everyone’s built the same,
Then how come building’s so fucking hard for you?
It’s something we’re all born into.
Nothing’s left up to grey.
It’s black or white and sometimes black and blue.
It’s something we’re all born into.
Whoa.
Now I know what’s in a name; not just my father’s.
Three-fifths a man makes half of me.
Why should I bother?
Merchants of misery stacking the deck.
Fuck your John Waynes.
Fuck your God complex.
I’ve got everything in front of me, but can’t reach far enough
To reach these fever dreams they call American.
I am the ghetto’s chosen one.
The privileged bastard son.

They’re getting their anchors.
They’re gathering rope.
You’re pushing to Heaven all alone.

They’re getting their anchors.
They’re gathering rope.

You’re pushing to Heaven all alone."

~Stained Glass Ceiling

The Wonder Years, No Closer to Heaven

You know that feeling when you hear something really great, and you love it and you obsess over it, and it is brilliant, inspirational perfection, and then you feel like shit about yourself because everything you produce looks futile your glazed, tired eyes?

Thanks, Dan Campbell! 

No, seriously, "No Closer To Heaven" is all I wanted it to be - obvious evolution in the band and Campbell alike. We hear a ton of guitars and wild rhythm change-ups and excellent, excellent hooks, wrapped up in the sad fighting light of reality.

I loved "Cigarettes and Saints" pretty hard these past few days. Now my favorite song changes with every listen.  I've stopped and said "Wow" so many times, whether it's the chorus of "You in January," that brilliant tambourine in "Patsy Cline," or the final drum rolls in "Palm Reader." Not to mention, as an album formula, the structure is laid out so well - the mid-section heavy slow jam  ("Cigarettes") like The Greatest Generation did, and hey, they don't ~quite~ end on an epic track to spare predictability. Smart smart smart - but not at all ineffective, because now I just have to go back and listen to it again.

The final verses in "Stained Glass Ceiling" are some of the best TWY lyrics Campbell has produced. If they don't break your heart, you're not paying attention.

What a profound rock band The Wonder Years have become. I am so proud to have loved them for this long , as silly as that sounds - but from the moment I heard "Washington Square Park" the summer I came home after college and I knew I'd find the sound I liked in a lyrical aesthetic I loved. They've only grown in maturity and worldview technical prowess, and I look forward to peeling back every layer of this one. I think I'm going to hold onto it for awhile, as you should with the ones that impress you so much at the outset. The more you listen, the more you learn.

9/3/15

I am loving this track today. As if I needed more albums to be excited about, with The Wonder Years coming out tomorrow and Foxing and Deafheaven still on my to-hear list, I learn Pentimento has a new LP coming out this October, and from the sound of the single, it is exactly the kind of gear-up pop-punk that's perfect for a meandering afternoon during a moderately boring day.

The opening chords and first verse of "Sink or Swim" feel very early Starting Line to me. The harmonies at the end do, too. But I felt like this offered more than your standard pop-punk track about halfway through, at the change-up  in pace and melody at the end of the second verse on the "devil you don't" line, which is a brilliant little variation on a theme. I'm looking forward to checking the Buffalo-based group when they come through town on their headlining tour. I'm looking for something to sink into.

Time to walk around with headphones, and wait for the leaves to change.


"so do I sink or swim 
drowning in the waters 
and could've beens
I'm not good enough for myself
let alone anyone else
that's just the way it is, yeah

so I just waste away
and worry about everything I cannot change."
~Sink or Swim 
Pentimento, I, No Longer

8/27/15

Last night I had the awesome pleasure of watching Lake Street Drive perform their radiant live show - if I had to bet on any band about to pop off in the mainstream/top 40/award-show category, it's them.

I started listening to them in the spring and loved the retro vibe - which is what instantly draws in the listener, until the grooves and vocals  keep you sticking around. There's clear Motown inspiration in the harmonies, swing beats, and vocal adornments, not to mention lovesick blues aplenty. But - and I think this is why their shows sell out worldwide - there's something so fresh and modern about them. Perhaps that's because of the members themselves. They show clear joy in what they do, the gender balance is refreshing in a four-piece, and their style is ultimately trendy. 

Singer Rachel Price is the bandleader and it's a role she was born to play. The show opened with her sultry vocals a capella, joined by the three members clustered around the microphone. Very 40s, just like her fabulous curled blowout. I was in love with her. So was the rest of the crowd.

Price's showmanship and dance moves are top-notch, and she manages to walk that fine line between performer-as-diva and performer-as-entertainer, commanding attention but never crawling for it. Just effusive, blissful energy - and her between-song chatter was solid-but-subtle real-talk about weekend partying and sexual frustration. It is clear she adores her bandmates as much as they adore their instruments.

The guitarist doubles as the trumpet player, and stand-up bass player Bridge Kearney is a master at taking the classical instrument to rock show levels, soloing and segueing from the band's originals into, of all songs, Van Halen's "Jump."  The drummer was positioned side-stage and lit from above, so you could see his motions clearly and it added energy.My favorite track was the ballad, of course, called "Just Ask," but I loved the closer and soon-to-be-single "Hell Yeah."

Seeing this show was not on my to-do list when I woke yesterday, but I couldn't have been happier to attend. Singing a little, dancing a little, and laughing a little to Lake Street Drive was an unexpected surprise, like so many other wonderful moments in this life.




"If you draw the line baby,
I will walk the walk
But I may sow some seeds baby
And I may pick a lock
My door is always open
If you find you wanna talk
And when you're good and ready
We can go as deep as you want

So just ask,
Baby just ask
I'll do anything for you
All you gotta do is ask
So just ask
Baby, baby just ask
I'll do anything for you
All you gotta do is ask."
~Just Ask
Lake Street Drive, Bad Self Portraits

8/21/15

"I beat my,
Myself black and blue
You cut your,
Yourself up it's true
Tell me why
There was no follow through
Where the hell I went
When I went krazy without you
Krazy without you."




A little edgy, uptempo pop rock can really get you through a Friday afternoon. I discovered, via YouTube, the latest from Matt Skiba and The Sekrets, a band I did not know existed. Matt Skiba is really talented, and also really busy. 

The record is 32 minutes of riffs and hooks and top-of-range high notes. It's like a peppy version of The Smiths in some way, with retro-throwback rhythms and dynamite rhythms. I could maybe do without the "k" trope - it's even embedded in their lyrics! - but I suppose I ought to give it up for attention to detail. In a way it speaks to the adolescent moodiness a rock musician has to encapsulate, and his voice carries with a goth-like flatness that makes it somehow forgivable. There's a specific style to hear, and to see, yet it's subtle enough to avoid the kind of dramatics I've gotten a bit too old for with modern acts. Skiba, after all, is an adult, and so even in pop punk/pop rock format, there's a maturity to speak of.

Across "Kuts" there's a healthy dose of guitar solos, and a ton of synth production that feels current and trendy and now. The focus isn't on the frills, but the feel, like the building chords and bridges that collapse into sad little scenes of hearts in pieces and broken souls. It's like someone poured The Cure through a 2014 indie pop filter, and blended in some early 2000s emo. I will take it.

I'm familiar enough with Alkaline Trio to know I'd appreciate the sound of Skiba's own creations, but I'm unfamiliar enough with Skiba's (massive) catalog to feel like I've discovered something. At the end of a week, before a series of unknown hours and unknown situations and all the space and opportunity that can provide, these are the sounds that keep me from the same old traps and tracks, and embracing what is new and now, and fresh.

"You came crawling from the wreckage
You were stumbling through the dark
You were trying to send a message
You were trying to leave your mark
I was busy playing in traffic
I was dizzy from the spin
Blindfolded with my arms out stretched
They called my next of kin

And I went off the rails without you
I went off the rails it's true...

You came roaring from the ocean
You were swept onto the land
You had nothing but your broken wits
And a fistful of sand
I was softly speaking backwards
In my ancient mother tongue
There was nothing left to do but laugh
At what I had become

And I went off the rails without you
I went off the rails it's true...

I beat my
Myself black and blue
You cut your
Yourself up it's true
Tell me why
There was no follow through
Where the hell I went
When I went krazy without you
Krazy without you."
~Krazy
Matt Skiba and the Sekrets, Kuts

8/18/15

Listening The Frames is such a gift for your ears. Knowing they've been around since the mid-90s, their catalog has a nostalgic quality, but the songs themselves feel timeless in structure and supreme melody. They're often incredibly sad and heartbroken, but nonetheless alive, with a hunger for feeling, even in desperation.

I came across this performance in a YouTube spree this evening, and the refrain has slipped from my lips ever since. It's the kind of song that makes me want to pick up a guitar and play something simple, find a full band to chime in and send the message through. Not only is this a beautiful song, and an impressive performance with one hell of a referential interlude and mash-up ending, but Glen Hansard's opening monologue is too charming for words. Tough to beat those final harmonies too, from a song I never heard til now, the kind that are soft, subtle and haunting just before the applause cuts in and the lights come up. Those moments on stage, the kind that are so full of fleeting magic, are what can make a 16-year-old song sound fresh and familiar, wonderful and warm.

"Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine
Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind
'Cause I don't understand these people
Saying the hill's too steep, well
They talk and talk forever
But they just never climb

Falling down into situations
Bringing out the best in you
You're flat on your back again
And star, your every word I'm heeding
Can you help me to see?
I'm lost in the marsh

Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine
Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind
'Cause I don't understand these people
Saying the world is sleeping
They toss and turn forever
But no rest will they find

Star, teach me how to shine

Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine
Teach me so I know what's going on in your mind."

~Star Star

The Frames, Dance The Devil

8/14/15

"Twice a week I pass by the church that held your funeral
And the pastor's words come pouring down like rain
How he called you a sinner and said now you walk with Jesus
So the drugs that took your life aren't gonna cause you any pain
I don't think he even knew your name
And I refuse to kneel and pray
I won't remember you that way

I lit you a candle in every cathedral across Europe
And I hope you know you're still my patron saint
I tried to forgive, but I can't forget the cigar in his fist
I know that they were heartsick, but I need someone to blame
And I know how they blamed me
I know what you'd say
You'd tell me it was your fault
I should put all my arrows away.

I'm sure there ain't a heaven
But that don't mean I don't like to picture you there
I'll bet you're bumming cigarettes off saints
And I'm sure you're still singing
But I'll bet that you're still just a bit out of key
That crooked smile pushing words across your teeth

Cause you were heat lightning
Yeah, you were a storm that never rolled in
You were the northern lights in a southern town,
A constant fleeting thing.
I'll bury your memories in the garden
And watch them grow with the flowers in spring
I'll keep you with me."

August is hands-down the strangest time of year. The slow, gorgeous fade of summer begins, fall creeps in around the edges, and every few years or so, my life turns upside down. Given that cycle has continued here in 2015, with the most significant sentimental loss I've ever faced, I'm ready to move forward, and with that comes the corresponding soundtrack. I am undeniably, unimaginably excited for the new record from The Wonder Years this fall and the subsequent tour - so much so that writing down sentences about it makes my finger tingle and I smile to myself. Some things don't change, and that's the way I feel about this band.

With just two songs out, I can already tell "No Closer to Heaven" is going to be an epic, dramatic album - the kind that "The Greatest Generation" was and continues to be. I see l some of my friends and acquaintances roll their eyes when I tell them I'm still - yes, still - really into pop punk and emo music. They're especially shocked if they've only been familiar with my folk and indie obsessions. But I can't get over the heightened aggression and flair for dramatic. I can't stop wanting my heart torn out I cannot stop being impressed by Dan Campbell cutting right to the quick of it, and saying it like it is.

I've been binging on "Cigarettes and Saints" today, and I've decided this song really crushes it. There's some kind of triumph behind that first guitar line, crystal-clear and resonant as it fades, only to come back in a patient pattern before the song erupts. The structure overall is drawn out, but purposefully so, like a funeral march, and the second half of the song begins with an anxious tone before finding its footing. "My whole generation got lost in the margin," Campbell sing-screams in the climax, and I can't help but think how me as well as the 17-year-olds playing this probably feel that way, too. The way he says "I know they blamed me," breaks my heart. What kills me most about this song is the overloading of religious imagery without reverence. The candles he lights feel significant, but futile, the pastor's words are empty and fleeting. And yet our narrator forges ahead, he vows to fight the forces that trigger these sad events, swirling in shame and regret and sadness all the awhile. What a feeling. What a story. I can't wait for more.



"These wolves in their suits and ties
Saying, "Kid, you can trust me"
Charming southern drawl, sunken eyes
Buying good will in hotel lobbies
Buy fistfuls of pills to make sure you don't hurt no more
You don't gotta feel anything
Got their fangs in our veins
Got their voice in our head
Got our arms in their grips
No, we can't shake free
This goddamn machine, hungry and heartless
My whole generation got lost in the margin
We put our faith in you and you turned a profit
Now we're drowning here under the waves
(We're no saviors if we can't save our brothers)
Drowning out under the waves
(We're no saviors if we can't save our brothers)
Drowning out, drowning out...
You can't have my friends,
You can't have my brothers.
You can't have my friends,
You can't have my brothers.
You can't have my friends,
You can't have my brothers.
You can't have me
No, you can't have me." 
~Cigarettes and Saints
The Wonder  Years, No Closer To Heaven

8/2/15

The new Citizen full-length is the best damn rock music I've heard in some time. Love the grooves, the heavy bass, the tendency to shout versus scream with just enough of the latter to feel appropriately hardcore. Their debut two years back made quite the splash, but I only really got into the single, "The Summer," which is a fierce and forceful kissoff:



"I watched you burn and I felt it. 
You’re spitting words like you’re someone else. 
And I watched you run, I was screaming and following you down. 
It seems I’m stuck in the promise you made, I’m counting out.

I don’t want to know, 
I don’t want to know.
If I could catch you once, I’d see you right through.

You said you’d stay, and you promised, I finally see you out. 
Why’d you wait for the summer to chew and spit me out?
I sit awake and wait impatiently. 
The same mistakes are waiting to be made

I don’t want to know, 
I don’t want to know.
 If I could just write you off, I’d see you right through."
~The Summer
Citizen, Youth

Citizen's second effort- "Everybody Is Going to Heaven" - certainly feels darker and more mature, but with the same channeled rage. The first slowdown on track four, "Heaviside," showcases their melodic tendencies well, then it's back to brutal, dark chords and distortion for days.Swapping vocal styles works for this band in so many ways - there's Manchester-esque emo flavor before screamed choruses, and the variety adds depth to a sound that's an approachable kind of heavy. I have listened to this record three times today, and the break from maudlin (bless them) songwriters is welcome. This is a powerful collection of ten songs, sure to played excellent live.

"I've placed the boards across your windows
I've nailed your hands so you can kiss the floor
A blanket suffocates the things you know
Numb yourself, like you did before."

~Numb Yourself

Citizen, Everybody is Going to Heaven

I love their inclination to hold back - not every song throws down in a bust though they're more than capable of pulling it off. I listen for that patience, and for when it breaks. I listen for the confident aggression that feels a little more grown than a lot of other bands I seek out when looking for something with bite, and yet remains interesting musically; I listen for those off-center melodies, something that sounds so nu metal and energizing and full. These songs are vivid and harsh, not quite violent but almost there. They're just enough to power up and power through a messy, busy day with a messy, busy mind.



"I am coming clean with myself
My darling, my darling
Now that I've shed my skin, you can tell I'm brighter than ever
The flood has washed my bitter design
Polished in every way
I am coming clean into love
I'll die if you let me
I am coming clean with myself
My darling, my darling
Now that I've seen the world through your eyes, I'm brighter than ever before
Bandaging all of me

Selfish me

So bittersweet
A suspicious love for the sake of us
Suit yourself fittingly
My arms are opened up
Suit yourself fittingly
The haze surrounds only us"

~Weave Me (Into yr sin)

Citizen, Everybody is Going to Heaven

7/30/15

"It's the wrong dream, with the wrong man,
With a cold gun, in your own hand.
Get it right this time, get it off your mind.
Let the summer rain bring you rest and shame and love."

~Rest. Shame, Love
Augustana, Can't Love, Can't Hurt

The random algorithms of Pandora couldn't know this appears to be one of the rainiest summers on record. It couldn't know that the first time I heard this song in years arrived on a lonely, rainy evening, and would linger in my ears through a stretch of heat-drenched dry days.

Augustana is one of those bands I will sort of always haphazardly defend. An early 2000s pop rock band that made a splash with a few overly played singles doesn't necessarily merit favorite status, but I've always thought their full-lengths were solid listens. Their songs are knee-deep in sentiment, the guitar lines are simple and clear, and there's a twinge of middle-of-nowhere folk that goes down easy. Taking the time to listen to "Can't Love, Can't Hurt" and mellow out to its laid-back rock, I feel like I am rediscovering a secret, like I am finding the box under my bed I left there years ago. Many of their songs on this record are beautiful and memorable. This one in particular is flooded with patience, even in its sad defeat. All thanks to a nicely curated Internet radio playlist that randomly reminded me of what I wanted to hear.

7/25/15

"They caught me as I placed her down in New York City streets.
Love roared as they pulled me back 
and tears fell from her cheeks and she said, 
'When you let go, where will I be?' 
and I broke down and said 
'Love is shackles, you’ll be free.'"
~The Path
Head North, Bloodlines

So into the latest Head North record, and their corresponding EPs. What a great band, who also hail from upstate New York. Their sound is that deep and resonant pop punk that is kind of all the rage, but their songs all have a really intimate and cutthroat quality, not shying away from the power of a good build-up and shouted words. Reminds me of Manchester Orchestra in that sense, but a little less dark and a little more bright. They rely heavily on melody without ignoring riff and fill potential, allowing some of the most bold and rage-fueled lines to take centerstage. I am glad to remember them on this beautiful summer morning; it's the perfect soundtrack for tossing my hair up, grabbing some coffee and getting on with it.

7/23/15

My love for Ryan Adams is no secret, but my adoration for the Foo Fighters - especially "One By One" - is a bit more unspoken. So what a treat for my tired, waiting ears today to hear Adams tear it up acoustic to "Times Like These" at a performance abroad captured on YouTube this week.
I could write a lot about why I think this song is great from a pop-rock standpoint, or why so mny Foo songs are, but I think, here, the hook speaks for itself. So memorable. Throw in  Adams' delicate, unwavering delivery, and there is no better vehicle for a message of resilience. What a fantastic song this is - this record was the first Foos I ever indulged in, and I glommed on like a hungry thing, taken by the strength and aggression encapsulated in melody. This record made me feel good, and it made me friends, and it never got old. Neither did they, production enthusiasts as they are. So what a thrill it has been to once again rediscover the Foos and Dave in their 2015 "Sonic Highways" stage, broken leg and all - it's like nothing has changed.

Far as covers are considered, RyanmAdams crushes it with mastery and grace as he does so many others. Adams dedicated this to Dave, unrecorded in the video above but included in others. I love his live performances and watch them near constantly, it seems; the day I see Adams live, finally, will feel like some kind of holiday, I'm sure, where I am hopefully hopeful and proper-buzzed, shrouded in love and inspiration and gratitude for living, the way the best moments always are.

"It's times like these you learn to live again
iIt's times like these you give and give again
I's times like these you learn to love again
It's times like these time and time again"

~Times Like These

Foo Fighters, One by One

7/15/15

The Weakerthans are no longer a band, as of the day that ended 40 minutes ago.

Life is not easy, lately or ever, but for me, The Weakerthans, have always made it better.

This band was a gift from a friend, a discovery I cherished to find and never grew tired of. Their songs have meaning that unravels and unfolds, that adopts to new circumstances and paints them with poetic context time and time again. Their rhymes and patterns roll off the tongue, their riffs soothe and strengthen and sedate.These songs have grown only more important -- and relevant -- to me as I've aged, whereas so many others have faded away.

John K. Sampson is one of the greatest modern lyricists, and worthy of awe in plainspeak. The band's aesthetic is a weathered indie rock with a healthy Canadian flair, suitable for bus rides with the Discman, headphones across campus, or long drives across interstates. Their brand of lonely is comforting, even when being alone isn't a concern. The amount of times I have played "Aside" in order to not feel so bad about feeling so bad, or "This Is a Fire Door Never Leave Open" when I am homesick, or "My Favorite Chords" to consider the shy little intimacies of love, well, it has to be in the hundreds by now.

I know most of their catalog like the back of my hand. Like I know my name or my home address. I know their words the way Christians know Bible passages, and I believe I repeat them for the same reasons. They make me feel, they make me understand, they make me believe.  That won't change, just because the band is no longer a unified, existing entity. I will still get to love these songs, I will still play them and sing to them and share them with others. The Weakerthans, as a group, were inactive long enough that this is not exactly a surprise, but it still feels like I'm losing something. Like we, the listeners, will miss out on all we could've gained from something more. We will not get new material or tours. We will never again feel the anticipation preceding a potential release. We will no longer have new albums to rank, or live recordings to compare.

I never saw them live. What a shame. Least I'll always have the mix CDs. I'll always have the liner notes, the MP3s, the vinyl, and these beautiful passages embedded in my mind. No one can take that away from me.



"My city's still breathing but barely it's true
through buildings gone missing like teeth.
The sidewalks are watching me think about you,
sparkled with broken glass.
I'm back with scars to show.
Back with the streets I know.
Will never take me anywhere but here.

The stain in the carpet, this drink in my hand,
the strangers whose faces I know.
We meet here for our dress-rehearsal to say 'I wanted it this way'
Wait for the year to drown.
Spring forward, fall back down.
I'm trying not to wonder where you are.

All this time lingers, undefined.
Someone choose who's left and who's leaving.

Memory will rust and erode into lists of all that you gave me:
a blanket, some matches, this pain in my chest,
the best parts of Lonely, duct-tape and soldered wires,
new words for old desires,
and every birthday card I threw away.

I wait in 4/4 time.
Count yellow highway lines that you're relying on to lead you home."

~Left and Leaving 

The Weakerthans, Left and Leaving

7/12/15

"And I don't think on why I'm here where it hurts
I'm just lucky to have the work
Sunday morning I'm too tired to go to church
But I thank God for the work."
~Something More Than Free
Jason Isbell, Something More Than Free

I feel like I don't yet have the words or links to properly explain how incredible and memorable the new Jason Isbell record is, but I am going to briefly try. I haven't stopped listening to the NPR stream and can't wait for the 17th when it gets released so I can play it with me all the time.  I didn't even want to leave my house earlier this afternoon, because I couldn't play it in the car. It's patient, lush and heavy, sad and reflective and profound. My favorite song changes each listen. Right now it's "Life You Chose."

Each song is a story, and what an incredible storyteller he is. I could not be more satisfied by this record as a fan, and I could not be more impressed and inspired a writer. This record also has a lot more guitar solos and full band compositional moments than "Southeastern," it feels like, with choices made in keeping with the whole scope of the song, and you the listener can just get lost in how well it all comes together. The overall vibe is still his brand of folksy Americana, with classic-sounding melodies, fluid twang and hushed tones - it is warm, it is cool, it is supple and resilient.

 Lyrically, Isbell is a modern master of the craft. He cuts to the heart of the it every time, whether it is love or regret or self-satisfaction, with just enough detail to give every feeling its corresponding setting. The chorus in "24 Frames" is still the greatest thing I've heard all year. The first verse of "Flagship" is so devastating and,perfect, not to mention the hopeful rescue of the chorus; the whole song has so much resolve and that soft, billowing organ accompaniment is sheer, subtle brilliance. I love this record. I am so glad it's here. I needed it, in the way you sometimes need something completely new and outside yourself to dig into and and hold onto and get lost in. Helps you get by. This is all I can say, as words so often fail to do justice to the greatest things we hold. But, as Isbell shows us time and time again, what a glorious thing it is to try.