5/4/14

While I tend to shy away from bands that seem to take the hipster mountain man trope too far, I've got a soft spot for Portland-bred Blind Pilot. Their sound is incredibly sweet yet deep, decorated with detail but not for the detail's sake. Something about this song, the title track closer from their debut, is so gorgeous beyond its simple chord choices - maybe it's the subtle sound of uncanny strings, like an upright and dulcimer and mandolin. Maybe it's the sheer patience of the first verses, before the ascending chorus and its to-the-point,from-the-heart hook. The overlap of the third verse and chorus to close it out is an excellent touch, especially when those words just pop against each other - "crisscross," "fog," "three rounds and a sound," "you know me." Mostly I love the way Blind Pilot manages to carry a heavy weight of feeling on the lightest of sounds and waves, sharing these troubles, trials and desires without getting too caught up in the density of it. At the heart, it's simply beautiful music.

"They're playing our song
They're playing our song
Can you see the lights?
Can you hear the hum,
of our song?

I hope they get it right
I hope we dance tonight
Before we, get it wrong.

And the seasons 

Will change us new
But you're the best I've known
and you know me
I could not be stuck on you
If it weren't true

I was swimming
My eyes were dark
'til you woke me
And told me that opening
is just the start
It was
Now I see you, 'til kingdom come
You're the one I want
to see me for all
the stupid shit I've done

Soil and six feet under,
Kept just like we were
Before you knew you'd know me
and you know me.
Blooming up from the ground
Three rounds and a sound
Like whispering 'you know me,

You know me.'
So this was our song,
This was our song.
I still see the lights
I can see them

And the crisscross
Of what is true, won't get to us
'Cause you know me,
I could not give up on you.

And the fog of
what is right
Won't cover us
'cause you know me-
I could not give up a fight.

Soil and six feet under
(Crisscross of what is true, won't get to us)
Kept just like we were
(Cause you know me. I could not give up on you)
Before you knew you'd know me
(But you feel the truth)
And you know me

Blooming up from the ground
(And the fog of what is right won't cover us)
Three rounds and a sound
(Cause you know me, I could not give up a fight)
Like whispering 'you know me
(But you feel right)
You know me.'"

~3 Rounds and a Sound 

Blind Pilot, 3 Rounds and a Sound

11/3/12

Good mornings have good coffee and good songs, the kinds with harmonies and odd layers of instruments and musings on humanity. I am well-rested for the first time in what feels like days, I can listen better and focus on little moments.This album has so many.

I think it'd be a wonderful thing to write songs this sad and thoughtful, I do not think that everyone who thinks they can pull it off can, but you know it instantly when you've heard someone who can get it right.

"It's not hard to live like a ghost
I just haunt all that I've wanted
And leave what I don't
I dreamt a trail up to the sky
And my brothers built propellers
Just to see how far they'd fly

So hold, high how faint your reasons
Or you'll never get on
Your flashing sparrows chasing with them
Or you'll never get on
Don't you forget you come from nothing
Or you'll never get on
That wind is calling my name
I won't wait, or I'll never get on"

~Half Moon 

Blind Pilot, We Are The Tide

9/3/12

Can't not love this video/song.

Love the instrumentation, the space between the harmonies and the simple, simple parts....hard to beat a stand-up, too. Also, I think I am predisposed to love any song named after my beloved home state or its pinnacle city, as well as those with this certain sentimental feeling.

"I hear the train all night,

Sound of it's wind blowing through our subtle lives.
And I have a job to do walking these cars,
Walking all this sleep to get to you.

But I don't feel you stir beside me,
And you're not in my morning hours.

Some ties are made to break,
Some stalks grow high and green to rot away,
And feel the weight.

And these lines tell a truth,
These city veins answer all we do.
So could you keep me in the pulses?
Could you keep me in the sound?

I got wise and I got old
Not once, not once did I fold
So don't you now

Maybe you bet on me
While we were still young enough to know
What to believe

For every year you took,
For every soft breath or loving look,
Believe me,

And don't keep me like you have me
And don't kiss me like you don't

I got wise and I got old,
Not once, not once did I fold,
So don't you now.

Some land holds a home,
Some of my years only hold me to roam.
But I tell myself it's true
You see a home, you see a man
You see it too.

And I say "Don't you know you have her,
Go on kiss her now you boy."
I got wise and I got old,
Not once, not once did I fall,
So don't you now.

I got wise and I got old,
Not once, not once did I fall,
So don't you now."
~New York
Blind Pilot, We Are the Tide