It's that time of year again.
The beginning. Which also means the end.
I'm particularly at ease as I sit down to write this list this year. It's the kind of thing that's an annual source of self-inflicted stress. While the AOTY list is a list that anyone who fancies themselves any kind of music "expert" or "critic" must be able to accomplish, I dread the work that it requires to reflect, write, compile. This year, though, it wasn't hard to find a free moment and begin typing. I knew most of this in my head, I had considered it several weeks before when I knew January was creeping closer. I kept a running Post-It list and refreshed my ears with a Spotify playlist. And I'm excited to put it out there, all this music that has meant so much to me.
2015, perhaps more than any other year in my adulthood, carried more emotional trials than I could have anticipated. I dealt with heartbreaks I could not predict. I faced fears I had been running from since I was an adolescent. I let people in. I let go. I ran farther, wrote faster and kissed harder than ever before. I gave up bad habits and picked up better ones, and I picked myself off the floor. I found surrender, I found self-love, I found the freedom and lightness a human can attain when you break your mind out of the fences of expectation, and now it is 2016, and I find myself still fighting for all of this, but with degrees of anticipation and confidence and the good kind of nerves, and I am encouraged. Most people reading this do not know most things about me; most people do not know most things about anyone, least of all strangers on the Internet, but if you are reading these words right now you can probably gather that that my lifeline (as it is maybe for you too) through all of this in life is music.
10) If I Should Go Before You - City and Colour
A late-year release that continues to captivate me, I didn't fully realize the brilliance of these songs until I had the chance to hear them live. And then I heard what I should've the first time - sweeping, elegant rock songs, with a timeless, bluesy feel, and Dallas Green's sorrowful interpretations of life and love. From the opening bars of the dark, groovy "Woman," you can tell this a record that uses the best of ingredients in the rock band pantry - heavy rhythm section, masterful solos, top notch vocals and hook-filled choruses. But mostly what I love about this record is how the sentimentality still steals the show.
Bound for trouble from the start
I've been walking through this old world in the dark
All along right by my side
There you were shining, my ray of light
~Lover Come Back
9) Permanence - No Devotion
When the day started to drag, when the week started to feel dull, this was the record to play to pick it up again. An indie favorite among a certain post-emo scene, the kind who might still care who Geoff Rickly is, the No Devotion record encapsulates a sound that's both reminiscent of a past era and somehow still trendy, walking one of my favorite lines. I love how synth-pop permeates the guitar parts, how new wave that sound is, matched with dark chords and stirring harmonies at the high-end of Rickly's vocal range. This record surprised me by how much I liked it, how fun it was to listen to, and also how unseen it was given its overall depth compared to acts in the same kind of genre.
Ten thousand summers
Cannot replace what we lost when you went away
Ten thousand summers
In the grass
And though it's getting dark
Remember this will pass
~10,000 Summers
8)Carrie and Lowell - Sufjan Stevens
So many
Sufjan fans fell by the wayside when his grand plans for a 50-album,
50-state spree stopped after two, myself included, as "The Age of Ads"
and his BQE tribute didn't seem to have the same heart. But Stevens'
musical brilliance, and poetic truths, shone through this year in the
most surprisingly stunning ballad collection, a heartfelt, intimate
tribute the love and loss and pain and quiet, awkward, awesome moments
that make up family. It's just too beautiful. When I listen to this record, I feel like it's OK to be curious and shy and passionate about the ones you love.
Do I care if I survive this, bury the dead where they’re found
In a veil of great surprises; hold to my head till I drown
Should I tear my eyes out now, before I see too much?
Should I tear my arms out now, I wanna feel your touch
~The Only Thing
7) Run Wild - Lydia
Another one that really surprised me by how much I wound up listening to it. Lydia was a band I got into purely by Pandora association, despite knowing they lurked somewhere in the mid-aughts emo scene I'm so fond of. Choosing to get into them shortly before this release was somewhat serendipitous but also somewhat misleading - the Lydia that existed 10 years ago isn't the one that put out this radio-friendly, poptastic, shimmering party serenade. But I love it, oh how I love it, from the stammering chorus of "Follow You Down" to the wide-eyed dance rhythms of "Late Nights." Something about this record set the tone for a light and breezy ride, no matter how dark and heavy I felt, no matter where I was going.
I don't want to keep your heartache
And I don't want to feel your ghost
And I don't even know where we will go
Yeah, I'm just trying to make it home
~Late Nights
6) Pageant Material - Kacey Musgraves
There's so much to love about this record, which is one of the sweetest, funniest, smartest offerings country music had to offer in 2015 and one of my favorite morning sing-a-longs. Kacey Musgraves has a strong wit, sharp tongue and killer voice, wrapped in an aw-shucks-stoner attitude that makes her songs so original and listenable and just overall delightful. Her take on gossipy neighbors and nosy friends shows a mature mindfulness that you're more likely to read about on yogi websites than hear about in a country song, setting her apart from the usual heartbreak heroines. Musgraves is only two albums in but she's only getting better - and more sure of herself, too, if the "Dime Store Cowgirl" anthem holds up.
I ain't exactly Ms. Congenial
Sometimes I talk before I think,
I try to fake it but I can't
I'd rather lose for what I am than win for what I ain't
~Pageant Material
5) Peripheral Vision - Turnover
If ever there was a darker, dreamier record this past year, I hadn't heard it. Turnover came out of nowhere, relatively, to put out one of the most outstanding LPs in the alt-indie scene, one that cut through stereotypes of bands in the genre and threw down a new standard for moody yet upbeat tracks. This record soundtracked many a lonely night, injecting a shot of needy hopelessness right when it was needed, but in the most melodic fashion. There's a depth in production here that creates a really full sound, but still lets you pick out the guitar parts. So much delay!! And so cohesive, which is why I think it was so easy to listen to time and time again. "Peripheral Vision" is a tribute to the complications and anxieties in relationships, the kind that we all wish we could avoid, but if this is where the stumbles gets you, maybe it's worth learning your way through.
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
4) American Candy - The Maine
This one really sneaked up on me. I had never listened to The Maine before "American Candy." What I discovered was the purest pop rock I'd heard since radio-friendly All-American Rejects tracks in high school, excellent parts and succinct playing. A perfect balance between light and dark, this record grapples with
issues of anxiety and self-consciousness and stereotype better than any
I've heard in ages, without being too obviously "fuck-the-man." Why it's not on other top 10s, I cannot say. Something this well-executed ought to be recognized - there isn't a bad track on this record, and it never left my rotation since it came out in the first quarter of the year. In a scene jam-packed with releases, that's not nothing.
Sometimes I feel as though I'm going mad when
I get a touch of saccharine on my lips
I hate the taste on my tongue too damn sweet
I don't fancy american candy, american candy
~American Candy
3) Something More Than Free - Jason Isbell
This record contains my favorite song of the year, the one that I played on repeat the most, with the chorus that still brings tears to my eyes. I was so obsessed with this record when it came out, and while I listen to it less in full, I still think it's one of the best showings of the year, with every track showing how timeless and tireless Jason Isbell's sound is. While his breakthrough on "Southeastern" gave us all a taste of what he is capable of as a songwriter and introduced us to his own personal angels and demons, "Something More Than Free" gives us more of a look into how he sees the world and what matters in, things like working hard and loving true.
"You thought God was an architect, now you know
He’s something like a pipe bomb ready to blow
And everything you built that’s all for show goes up in flames
In 24 frames"
~24 Frames
2) Astoria - Marianas Trench
The top two were really hard for me this year to balance out, because they both hit me in the gut. So consider this almost a tie...and consider them both the kind that lived up to high expectations. Marianas Trench may not be a well-known act in most music circles, and that might be the biggest oversight in critical estimations. I think Josh Ramsay is a brilliant modern pop composer and if you disagree, I guess you've never heard a little song called "Call Me Maybe." He is a production master - and he shines brightest in his own band, Marianas Trench, who write epic after epic after epic. This one might their strongest yet - clearly 80s inspired, and clearly heavy on the drama. But it's tight as hell when it comes to hooks. How "One Love" isn't tearing up the radio stations, I don't know. In the past month or so since I bought this record I've listened to it almost every day, and it only gets better. It only cuts deeper. "Astoria" makes me smile, it makes me cry, it gives me shelter, it makes me a fighter. If ever there was a band that proved pop music as a genre exists beyond what's on the charts, it's Marianas Trench, and if there was any rock album in 2015 that lifted my heart to places I didn't think it could still reach, it was "Astoria."
"Don't remind me what the price is when left to my own devices
'Cause I'll find out in all due time what happens to never say die"
~Astoria
1) No Closer to Heaven - The Wonder Years
When "The Greatest Generation" came out in 2013, I couldn't help but think that this big-sounding, on-the-rise rock band from Philadelphia, my favorite active artist, had the makings of a voice of a generation. When "No Closer to Heaven" dropped this year, I knew that inkling was spot-on. Dan Campbell has turned his musings outward, and this record finds pondering the sick, sad world around us as much as his own place in it. The band followed its strengths with this record, and they've wound up with some of their best-ever songs, like "Cigarettes and Saints" and "Stained Glass Ceilings." This is not a record for the faint of heart, as it has its fair share of thrashing and screaming, as well as some disturbed imagery, from car crashes to drug overdoses to gun violence. But in this aggression is a ferocious heart, one that refuses to quit, colored by drum rhythms for days and dueling guitar solos. To me, this is the essential combination for punk rock - an American critique offered by the minstrels of its lower middle class, and loud-as-fuck playing. But there's something else that that phrase "punk rock" doesn't quite capture, and that's literary-level vocabulary, narrative-style scene setting and that particular brand of maturity that only comes from traveling to mental depths so low, and so dark, and surviving them. No one does it quite like The Wonder Years does, and no band ever will.
This god damn machine; hungry and heartless.
My whole generation got lost in the margin.
We put our faith in you. You turned a profit.
Now we’re drowning here under your waves.
~Cigarettes and Saints
Honorable mentions, for lack of enough listening to properly rank:
Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit - Courtney Barnett
Vitals - MuteMath
Traveler - Chris Stapleton
All Your Favorite Bands - Dawes
Dealer - Foxing
1989 -Ryan Adams (listened a lot, but didn't feel quite right to rank. Best cover album of all time, tho, for sure.)
Past years:
2014
2013
2012
2011
Showing posts with label the wonder years. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the wonder years. Show all posts
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Friday, September 4, 2015
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.
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.
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.
Friday, August 14, 2015
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
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
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
6/30/15
"I swear I'll never let you down again."
Is there anything - anything - better than the solace of an incredible new song from an incredible band about to put forth an incredible new album? I am still so in awe of "The Greatest Generation" that I was holding my breath a little bit on what we might hear from The Wonder Years this year, but after hearing "Cardinals" I feel this will be amazing, when Dan Campbell continues to write such phenomenal words and pull out these devastating truths ("We're no saviors/If we can't save our brothers") and the band supplies such layered melodies and frenzied rhythms. I stayed at work an hour later than usual, because I didn't want to be without it on the drive home and haven't bought the pre-order yet. The hook is so good, and so telling of what this band can do. Can't get over the drum part in the chorus, it's too tricky for me to count but I love how it ascends, and then the gang vocals at the close, something of a trademark for this six-piece-plus, tie the whole thing together. Putting out a single this soon makes me think there will be another one or two before the album drops in September - or at least, that's what I can hope for, because new songs and new sounds and new feelings are all that I can hope for on the horizon, even better when they're grown from the same favorite spots I always founds them.
Is there anything - anything - better than the solace of an incredible new song from an incredible band about to put forth an incredible new album? I am still so in awe of "The Greatest Generation" that I was holding my breath a little bit on what we might hear from The Wonder Years this year, but after hearing "Cardinals" I feel this will be amazing, when Dan Campbell continues to write such phenomenal words and pull out these devastating truths ("We're no saviors/If we can't save our brothers") and the band supplies such layered melodies and frenzied rhythms. I stayed at work an hour later than usual, because I didn't want to be without it on the drive home and haven't bought the pre-order yet. The hook is so good, and so telling of what this band can do. Can't get over the drum part in the chorus, it's too tricky for me to count but I love how it ascends, and then the gang vocals at the close, something of a trademark for this six-piece-plus, tie the whole thing together. Putting out a single this soon makes me think there will be another one or two before the album drops in September - or at least, that's what I can hope for, because new songs and new sounds and new feelings are all that I can hope for on the horizon, even better when they're grown from the same favorite spots I always founds them.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
5/27/15
"Jesus Christ. I'm 26.
All the people I graduated with,
All have kids,
All have wives,
All have people who care if they come home at night.
Well, Jesus Christ, did I fuck up?"
~Passing Through a Screen Door
The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation
I am compelled to post this tonight as it will only remain true to my life for the next several hours -- and because it is a pop punk bridge for the modern age that reflects ultimately what I find many in my generation often grappling with.
I know it seems like all we care about is what's happening on our phones but the timeless mortal longings for companionship and love and meaning in our lives - surprisingly!!! - remain. In my conversations this past year, with friends or acquaintances or strangers of a similar age, I've heard plenty of takeaways on what it means to be alone, what it means to be coupled up, or somewhere in between. Some seem dead-set on running as far as they can from commitment of any sort, thinking such trappings spell doom for their individualized futures; others seek it like water in a drought, gasping and grasping for something to hold onto other than themselves that will provide vitality. Still others I meet are in some sort of medium ground, not alone and not lost though conventionally behind the times and, through their personal choices, redefining them. Some others just don't seem to care where they fit. They just seem happy.
I am one of those who is not alone, though I live that way. I am one of those who pokes and prods and rips up roots almost fast as I can grow them, though I have a few places I can call home enough to find someone to laugh with and buy me a drink. I often feel as though I have fucked up, though I know in my heart of hearts and deepest of consciousness that I have not.
To me this song spells out fervent desire for change, without yet knowing which kind to make. It starts from the feeling that the present in all its normalcy is not adequate, when the room to run is so far and wide and somewhere out there is something more. That feeling, the opposite of sought-after stability, is glorious in its own way, and glamorized thoroughly, but it presents challenges and fears in the way traditional settling down might in others. What if nowhere feels like home? What if there's no one to look over at, and smile to know all you've shared? What if, to be running and constantly seeking, means you lose everything that is worthwhile after all? Answering these questions sometimes only brings a stronger desire for sameness, for stillness, for closeness that may not be found outside in the world but behind your bedroom door. And then the cycle begins again...
With this song, with this album, Dan Campbell and The Wonder Years presented a story of the times that I hope will preserve the emotional trials and struggles felt by many in the here and now. It helps that it is incredibly fluid, aggressive and devastating rock music, that makes your neck arch and fingers drum and throat ache to shout. I shouted these words 10 rows deep last August, screaming as loud as I ever would packed among hundreds of strangers younger than me, or older than me, or cooler than me, or more scene than me, and for that day, for that set, I did not feel fucked up. I did not feel like I'd missed out. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
All the people I graduated with,
All have kids,
All have wives,
All have people who care if they come home at night.
Well, Jesus Christ, did I fuck up?"
~Passing Through a Screen Door
The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation
I am compelled to post this tonight as it will only remain true to my life for the next several hours -- and because it is a pop punk bridge for the modern age that reflects ultimately what I find many in my generation often grappling with.
I know it seems like all we care about is what's happening on our phones but the timeless mortal longings for companionship and love and meaning in our lives - surprisingly!!! - remain. In my conversations this past year, with friends or acquaintances or strangers of a similar age, I've heard plenty of takeaways on what it means to be alone, what it means to be coupled up, or somewhere in between. Some seem dead-set on running as far as they can from commitment of any sort, thinking such trappings spell doom for their individualized futures; others seek it like water in a drought, gasping and grasping for something to hold onto other than themselves that will provide vitality. Still others I meet are in some sort of medium ground, not alone and not lost though conventionally behind the times and, through their personal choices, redefining them. Some others just don't seem to care where they fit. They just seem happy.
I am one of those who is not alone, though I live that way. I am one of those who pokes and prods and rips up roots almost fast as I can grow them, though I have a few places I can call home enough to find someone to laugh with and buy me a drink. I often feel as though I have fucked up, though I know in my heart of hearts and deepest of consciousness that I have not.
To me this song spells out fervent desire for change, without yet knowing which kind to make. It starts from the feeling that the present in all its normalcy is not adequate, when the room to run is so far and wide and somewhere out there is something more. That feeling, the opposite of sought-after stability, is glorious in its own way, and glamorized thoroughly, but it presents challenges and fears in the way traditional settling down might in others. What if nowhere feels like home? What if there's no one to look over at, and smile to know all you've shared? What if, to be running and constantly seeking, means you lose everything that is worthwhile after all? Answering these questions sometimes only brings a stronger desire for sameness, for stillness, for closeness that may not be found outside in the world but behind your bedroom door. And then the cycle begins again...
With this song, with this album, Dan Campbell and The Wonder Years presented a story of the times that I hope will preserve the emotional trials and struggles felt by many in the here and now. It helps that it is incredibly fluid, aggressive and devastating rock music, that makes your neck arch and fingers drum and throat ache to shout. I shouted these words 10 rows deep last August, screaming as loud as I ever would packed among hundreds of strangers younger than me, or older than me, or cooler than me, or more scene than me, and for that day, for that set, I did not feel fucked up. I did not feel like I'd missed out. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
4/12/15
First bike ride of the season took me on my favorite solo-cruise route - from Millvale along the Three Rivers trail, past PNC Park, around Heinz Field, across the bridge and down to Point State Park. The scenery changes quickly, the path goes from crushed stone to pavement to concrete with varying degrees of incline, and on the first free day I've had in awhile that just happened to the warmest yet, I could not resist putting on my headphones and going for a ride.
Shuffle did not fail me, starting with a strong run of modern pop punk.
"I'm safe, and who ever thought that was difficult?
My nerves start to feel so frayed.
I'm trying to turn things around, but instead
I'll say 'Why do I feel so invisible?
Good things will come my way.'
I'm trying to turn things around, and I wait
'Till the day when I stop making big mistakes
And the clouds, they roll out of this whole damn state
I believe in a place and I wanna go
Honesty will leave me feeling livable
Once I change.
Now that I've found some time, all the pain won't bother me.
I've wanted to find what my head keeps filtering."~Good Things
The Dangerous Summer, War Paint
The trail was full of so many people - solo riders like me, couples jogging, small groups of walkers or cyclists - so I knew better than to blast the volume and tune out. Never know when someone's speeding up behind you. I quit dodging the crowds for a bit when I got to the Point, and decided to stretch out and lay on the grass. Like divine intervention, or the mathematical realities of an 8-gig device, a sliver of "Clarity" arrived on cue.
The trail was full of so many people - solo riders like me, couples jogging, small groups of walkers or cyclists - so I knew better than to blast the volume and tune out. Never know when someone's speeding up behind you. I quit dodging the crowds for a bit when I got to the Point, and decided to stretch out and lay on the grass. Like divine intervention, or the mathematical realities of an 8-gig device, a sliver of "Clarity" arrived on cue.
I laid there for awhile, listening to the same song over and over again. I put the volume up and watched the clouds, watched the fountain, and stretched my feet in time to the staccato strings. I let the rest of the album play the whole ride back.
"I promised I'd see it again
I promised I'd see this with you now.
I promised I'd see it again,
I promised I'd see this with you now.
I said, said, said it out loud over and over
Said, said, said it out loud but it did not help
I'll stop now just enough so I can hear you
I stay up as late as it takes"
~Just Watch The Fireworks
Jimmy Eat World, Clarity
By the time I made my way back to the trail head, I was just sweaty enough, feeling tension-free and exhilarated by the spontaneous ride. I switched back to shuffle and found myself where I started,with "Suburbia" piping through like a boisterous old friend you haven't seen in awhile. Usually, I plan rides for certain early mornings or with friends. It's a scheduled activity. But today, with my bike fresh from a tire tune-up on the back of my car, I decided to deviate from my to-do list in favor of what felt right, and it was worthwhile. What a change of pace, what a pleasant reminder of the control we have over our own destinies.
I strapped my bike to the trunk of my car. I kept my headphones in.
"I’m not a self-help book; I’m just a fucked up kid.
I had to take my own advice and I did.
Now I’m waiting for it to sink in.
Expect me standing tall, back against the wall,
'Cause what I learned was
It’s not about forcing happiness;
It’s about not letting the sadness win."
I had to take my own advice and I did.
Now I’m waiting for it to sink in.
Expect me standing tall, back against the wall,
'Cause what I learned was
It’s not about forcing happiness;
It’s about not letting the sadness win."
~Local Man Ruins Everything
The Wonder Years, Suburbia, I've Given You all and Now I'm Nothing
Sunday, August 31, 2014
8/31/14
Today I get to see my favorite band play for the first time. Since 2010,The Wonder Years have been my link to the past and soundtrack to the present, the kind of pop punk that touched upon everything that made me love the genre way back when in the first place, deepened with an of-age maturity perfectly matching my own struggles, trials, inner demons and dreams. Dan Campbell and company created a tremendous force in a genre ever-shifting, ever-changing, ever running from its own stereotypes without sacrificing their own progression. For this, and for the countless hours spent singing at the top of my lungs, I love them. Check out the tag at the end of this post. You'll see.
I get to see The Wonder Years today, and it's mostly because I live in Pittsburgh, a major market with a devoted community of promoters who work hard to deliver the best of the scene, and one-of-a-kind events like the Four Chord Music Festival. It's been such an improvement in my exposure to bands and overall quality of life to be able to find out a band is touring and know there's a pretty good shot they're coming through a local venue, after I spent a year and a half missing out due to having to travel to D.C., Philadelphia or Baltimore to see the bands I love.
Shows were immensely important to me growing up. They were the only place I felt sort of cool - at school I was an over-achieving nerd, at ballet class I was a tortured young artist, but in my basement blasting Taking Back Sunday or The Early November, I felt alright, understood. Thee early 2000s eruption of indie, emo and pop punk bands gave me an anchor, and I clung to it. Going to see the bands I loved live meant dancing and yelling and gaping in awe like a fool, but it also meant being part of a crowd I didn't have to run from or morph in front of to fit in. I saw kids like me, and older ones with tattoos and cigarettes I'd one day emulate, in my own way. My fascination with stage and performance developed, learning to hear the acute differences between guitar parts and memorize set lists. The fixation eventually carried over to other parts of my life, when wearing band shirts and listening to headphones in the hallways led me to some of the best friends I ever made.
I'm no longer a mousy girl in checkered Vans with a button-covered messenger bag waiting outside the back door of The Bug Jar, but that feeling that drove me there never left. In some ways, my ability to satiate it has only increased with the time and resources adulthood can provide. Sure, I sometimes feel old (there was that time I went to the Touche Amore concert in my work clothes and high heels) but I'm so grateful to be able to indulge this part of myself, now more than ever. So, cheers to the Pittsburgh music community for giving me an outlet again, for enriching my 2014 with so many incredible shows, sounds and memories, for giving me another spin with that all-time favorite companion, distraction and medicine of live music.
Should be a great show.
"I've been acting like I'm strong
But the truth is, I've been losing ground
To a hospital too crowded,
A summer winding down,
I hadn't seen a heartbreak until now,
I hadn't felt a heartbreak until now."
~Dismantling Summer
The Wonder Years,The Greatest Generation
Saturday, July 12, 2014
7/12/14
"If I lay here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat me whole. If I stay here long enough maybe the night could take me home. I won't let go, even if you say so."~Divorce and the American South
I often wonder what it's like to be the kind of person who can be happy just by being present, those yoga-minded folk who can see a blue sky and sunshine and feel at peace, who don't need anything more than the breath in their lungs to feel happy and grateful to be alive. Moments like that, for me, are hard to come by. I've just never been that calm of a person. But, I do get that feeling from certain albums; at least they can chase away the constant companions of anxiety and complication, often through commiseration.
I've long admired the work of Dan "Soupy" Campbell, for his ability to tease out the hardest feelings in realist scenes, his brutal self-awareness and his ever-emotive vocals. I've loved The Wonder Years for a long time now, I've drank in all they offer, and loved them more and more along the way. The news of his solo project, Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties, made me excited and nervous. Listening to it makes my heart hurt in the best way, with the saddest kind of tale of loneliness and regret. Musically, it's the most mature, full, and experimental we've seen from Campbell yet.
The first few times I heard this record through I knew instantly it was fabulous but I couldn't tell why. It took a morning or two of feeling unsettled and a little desolate myself before it fully washed over me, as if I needed some kind of target before I let the arrow drive through my heart. That's because it is really fucking sad. This fictional narrative is fueled by emotion of the most broken, busted kind. This is an album told from a lost and lonely soul from the bottom of an empty bottle. Each scene symbolizes defeat, if not admitting to it directly.
From start to finish, Campbell gives imagery to desperation with his story of a man whose lost seemingly everything but the conscious awareness of how fucked up his life has become. Songs like "Runnin' Scared" and "The Thunderbird Inn" are testaments to what it means to be hopeless, a feeling that shouldn't translate itself to sing-along choruses. But this is where Campbell's storytelling abilities come in, with his full-fingered grip on how emptiness manifests itself in drinking, sunken eyes and late rent checks.
"Well I know I'm a coward and I feel a bad night coming, didn't know that I looked that pathetic." ~Runnin' Scared
When discussing this album, Campbell talks about the "expansive tonal palette" he wanted to create, which I think he hits dead on. For all its loneliness, "We Don't Have Each Other" is incredibly warm, satisfyingly so. His strained throat and acoustic strumming are a pretty constant presence, with background vocals and plenty of build in the rhythm section adding a folk-rock weight. I'm always a bit cautious when I hear about musicians tinkering with horn sections, as they can become gimmicks. But here, they add dimension, a depth just theatrical enough to soundtrack the desolate Aaron's journey through his own depression. Even from this depth, though, the album is never frantic or madcap. The timing on this album is so measured and I think that adds to its literary capacity. We've heard TWY take it slow before, but I think Campbell sounds great in this mid-tempo world, with its varied roots of punk and folk creating this indie alt-rock tale, more in the style of The Mountain Goats or Neutral Milk Hotel than his Warped Tour compatriots.
This is a story told in front of stained glass windows and bartenders, crying out from abandoned streets and motels with memories of nurseries, mother's kitchens and old cars. Each turn around the corner stumbles on a little more smoke-tinged heartbreak, like the regret of watching it all fall apart, the strange mix of pride and guilt of your roots, and the slow, sudden sink into drunken depression. This is captured lyrically, with Campbell-as-Aaron's direct cries for help from God and his departed love Dianne, but musically as well - exemplary of this is "Get Me Out of Here Alive," a slow-burn full of pain and restraint, never erupting but wallowing on the brink. This might be my favorite track, at least it is this week. "Carolina Coast" is similarly heartbreaking as a closer, one that gives just a glimmer of hope that our anti-hero won't give up, as if he's realized there's nothing else to do when your choices are to chase ghosts or let yourself drown.
"Hey, Holy Ghost, why'd you leave me? Where'd you go? I know we ain't spoke in so long, but I've gotta know if I'm alone. If I start drinking, I'm gonna be the town drunk. You always said I should lighten up, so I'm gonna lighten up. I'm gonna lighten up. So long. I'm sorry that I wasn't who you want. If I can't make you happy, I'm no good for anyone. So long. I'm sorry that I was who you you'd want. If I cant make you love me.." ~Grapefruit
I haven't read many, or any, reviews of this. It was a highly anticipated release from one of the most popular artists in my favorite genre, so I think in many ways I was predisposed to fall all over it. But listen after listen, I hear more and more of the story behind this all this and how it was built, the channeling of pain and the setting of a scene. The story of Aaron West may be an artist's invention but the resonance is powerful when it taps into this much forlorn defeat and vivid imagery. It's always interesting to see where your favorite musicians take their side projects. The results can be very disappointing or simply forgetful. This, though, is fulfilling and dramatic, well-thought out and incredibly produced, and mostly just the product of careful, gifted writing.
I'm going to go find a physical copy of this CD today. I think I'll be holding onto it for awhile. I think I'll be singing along for sometime. I think this kind of sadness, captured in a bottle, is timeless and transcendent, like a fire-orange sunset that burns up the sky, and maybe for a moment, lets you get lost in something other than yourself.
"When I met you we were young
And like gasoline to matches
Waking up drunk
Sleeping through your early classes
I grew up and grew dull
And you say you wished I hadn't.
Well I'm drunk again
And you're guilty like you're Irish catholic
You ain't no saint
I ain't one either
Guess that's why I'm lying here
'Cause I know that I'm banged up
I got bruises I can't place,
Oh, I've been coughing out blood.
I know that I'm banged up,
I got bruises I can't place,Oh, I've been coughing out blood.
I got a gut full of ulcers
They're gonna burn out like dead stars
and turn to dust."
~You Ain't No Saint
Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties, We Don't Have Each Other
Waking up drunk
Sleeping through your early classes
I grew up and grew dull
And you say you wished I hadn't.
Well I'm drunk again
And you're guilty like you're Irish catholic
You ain't no saint
I ain't one either
Guess that's why I'm lying here
'Cause I know that I'm banged up
I got bruises I can't place,
Oh, I've been coughing out blood.
I know that I'm banged up,
I got bruises I can't place,Oh, I've been coughing out blood.
I got a gut full of ulcers
They're gonna burn out like dead stars
and turn to dust."
~You Ain't No Saint
Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties, We Don't Have Each Other
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
1/8/14
What is it about the end that makes you want to go back to the beginning?
Maybe it's just me, but the end of 2013 seemed to bring more than usual flurry of lists. Too many rankings. Too much specificity - the top 10 albums commercially released, the top 10 albums you probably didn't hear, the top 10 songs, top 10 tours...music criticism has evolved(devolved) into a competition for all-encompassing coolness, or maybe it always was. As someone who truly believes the best music is whatever you find you're looking for it, I tend to have a difficult time sitting down and compiling these lists.
And yet, I have, time and time again. I try to go by what I loved the most, what spoke to me, rather than what is the most acclaimed or groundbreaking. This list comes with all the usual prefaces, that I probably could sit here for days rearranging the order of the pack, that I am probably forgetting some, that some are way stronger than others, that staying power will really prove me right or wrong....but honestly, this was a great year for music, and I loved how inspired I was by so many new songs, sounds and artists.
10) RVIVR- The Beauty Between
This album was a late year discovery for me, and it came in just in time. I caught their song, "Paper Thin" on NPR's best of the year list, and stopped everything I was doing to find out who it was. I could see how some might be misled by band name - not another one of those all-caps, weird-spelling things I don't know how to pronounce! No! But oh, how little I cared when I heard how kick-ass their record was. A rather lengthy LP of short little punches of punk rock to the throat topped up with a multi-song themed suite, all with just-right, good-enough screamed/shouted/sung harmonies, and clean, fast and furious guitar solos fueling my jealousy and drive to pick it up and plug in and yell my head off, Completely hooked on everything about it, this album is the one of the few my ears heard this year deserving of the phrase punk as fuck.
"Okay, I touch the ground/Send my roots deep down
When it gets too loud
7) Touche Amore - Is Survived By...
Someone said to me this year, "You like 16-year-old girl metal." That may be true, and I'm taking it as a compliment. I spent more time going to metal shows this year than any other genre, fueled in part by a 10-day jaunt in a van on a DYI tour, but it opened by eyes to what scenes today look like, sound like, feel like, and I liked it. I don't blog about metal a lot, because I like to blog abotu songs with lyrics I really relate to and I don't really listen to metal for the lyrics....but that is not the case with Touche Amore. They're all about the poetry, they're all about pushing the words out there and then raining down on them with layers upon layers of heavy, astmospheric sound. This record hooked me as soon as I streamed it, so full of questioning and legacy and daring in the face doubt. This song in particular fueled me on many a cold, confused day's drive.
"Does this mean that the words won’t come?
Does this mean that I’m at my end? If my joy
comes with the price of my love, I won’t pay if
I have to pretend. There’s always a chance to
relapse and fall back to the person I still fear
is there. So if this ink will suddenly run out,
I’ll refill if I feel the need to share."
~To Write Content
6) Daft Punk- Random Access Memories
I loved this album. I still love it. I play it when I happy, I play it when I am sad, I play it when my iPod has died and I forgot my charger and it happens to be in the disc changer, so I may as well listen to the whole thing through. Music is supposed to make you feel things, and Daft Punk knows how to do this without the listener any the wiser. This is not an album you simply take in, this is an album you have a conversation with, it speaks to you, provokes you. I'm not even sure what you call Daft Punk nowadays are far as genre goes, but I would not hesitate one moment to call them artists, especially when you hear about how much time, effort, and attention to detail went into this record. Complete pros. Kudos for showing them all how it's done.
"And we will never be alone again/'Cause it doesn't happen every day
Kinda counted on you being a friend/Can I give it up or give it away
Now I thought about what I wanna say/But I never really know where to go
So I chained myself to a friend/'Cause I know it unlocks like a door."
~Instant Crush
5) The 1975 - The 1975
Fun, sexy, smart, bold - what to say about The 1975 that someone more well-versed than me hasn't said? This album soundtracked my summer, poolside with friends, curling my hair before heading out, hitting the gym hard, cleaning my apartment and letting the sun stream in the ceiling-high windows. From "Money" to "Robbers" the spitfire attitude of this album is rebellious, and yet contemplative enough to be hip, instrumentally, it's so *now* it's maybe a little ahead of its time, it just might be the pop of the future. I love how well they use simple parts on real instrumentals, occasionally dressing it up with some synth tones and interludes. It's hard to see why this record was passed up on so many other album of the year lists (leaving me to believe a lot of people paid to write about music have no idea what the hell they're talking about and let the accepted trends speak for them). I'll always associate this band with 2013, where life outside of work was spent adventuring and experiencing, curious and excited about the new ways to play in my new-found adult life while still ever-so-slightly keeping a finger on the pulse of the youthful past I'm not quite ready to surrender.
"And don't call it a spade if it isn't a spade.
And go lie on the floor if you want.
The first bit of advice that you gave me that I liked was they're too strong, too strong.
Get in the shower if it all goes wrong.
Yeah, If you wanna find love then you know where the city is."
~The City
4) Jimmy Eat World - Damage
Can Jimmy Eat World release an album that doesn't make it into my top 10? "Damage" is proof that, no, no they cannot. Nearly every review of this album makes a whole bit about how they're older and have lived more life than they did when they wrote "Bleed American" - well, no shit, it's called aging. And nearly every discussion of this band seems to include the brilliant observation that they can't make "Clarity" again - here I thought releasing the same album was what artists were all about! While "Damage" doesn't reinvent any wheels, it is cohesive, it is smart, it is melodic, it is all the things that make JEW a great band that's withstood the test of time. I've played "Please Say No" and "How'd You Have Me" enough times this year to place this album on a most-listened lists. As always with this band, timing is everything, and "Damage" gave me a lot to chew on for some time.
"You know I don't ever sleep, just starting at the ceiling
I'm laid there beneath myself
You should have to be somewhere else
With someone just like me, nothing complicated
All the feelings and fantasy
Can you trust, can you trust
That there's some things, you should never have, never known about"
~No, Never
3)The National - Trouble Will Find Me
You can't rank National albums, really, it's just not something you should do. It's like picking a favorite chocolate or something, they all are good in different, subtle ways while fulfilling the same underlying temptation. Devastation, acceptance, regret and sorrow all make appearances on "Trouble Will Find Me" and they're all addressed with the same curiosity and nervousness, the same awkward intimacy. The National is becoming ubiquitous as far as bands of this decade goes, and while their sound has quieted in a lot of ways it's gotten no less complex; in fact, it's only moreso, with shakers and auxiliary aplenty and experimental tones and timings. On this album, the band proves their mastery of space, balance and the ability to create moments that steal the heart and suspend it for as long as possible before letting it drop and shatter, and I love them deeply for it.
"Don't make me read your mind/You should know me better than that
It takes me too much time/You should know me better than that
You're not that much like me/You should know me better than that
We have different enemies/You should know me better than that
I should leave it alone but you're not right
I should leave it alone but you're not right"
~I Should Live In Salt
2) Jason Isbell - Southeastern
Every now and then you hear an album that transcends so many boundaries, and Southeastern was one of those records. I first recall hearing about Jason Isbell through a New York Times profile, as trendy as that sounds, though I'd recalled the Drive By Truckers from occasional dabbling in the country songwriter genre. Nothing was like this record, though, where the storytelling is so pure and the chords so classic, even staunch no-country listeners instantly recognized its quality and capacity to be moving. Try listening to "Elephant" and not thinking back to your loved ones you lost too soon, who you saw in the throes of mortality and still manage to crack a smile. Isbell is the kind of guy who, when in front of a mic, moves everyone to listen, and something about the simplicity and purity of his songwriting makes me remember that the only way write well is to write honest, straight from the heart. It's unmatched, unpretentious, timeless, and just like it's supposed to sound.
"Once a wise man to the ways of the world
now I've traded those lessons for faith in a girl
Crossed the ocean, thousand years from my home
in this frozen old city of silver and stone
Ships in the harbor and birds on the bluff
don't move an inch when their anchor goes up
And the difference with me is I've fallen in love
Stockholm let me go home."
~Stockholm
1) The Wonder Years - The Greatest Generation
Can I say anything about this record I haven't said already? Maybe this: that it's a shame I haven't seen them yet. The Wonder Years are leaders of the pack as far as the pop punk genre goes, but my love for them comes from a place much more personal and private than any trend, ranking or pack mentality goes. This is a band that, over the last few years, has soundtracked my life and transitions in near-perfect fashion, channeling the same fears and doubts in an aggressive yet meditating sound. So many good moments on this album, solid chord progressions and tense bridges keep an ever present suspension that just pulls me in and doesn't let go. I start listening to this album and I can't put on anything else until I've heard the whole thing. Never once do The Wonder Years completely lose it, as much as Dan Campbell tells you he's going to, there's so much thought and restraint. "The Greatest Generation" is literary in concept, in craftsmanship and contains the best closer they've done yet. I'm glad this album came around at a point in the year when I needed something to scream to, when I needed something loud and fresh and familiar to escape to, and I have a feeling it'll be that way for years to come.
"Jesus Christ. I’m 26.
All the people I’ve graduated with,
All have kids, all have wives,
All have people who care if they come home at night.
Well, Jesus Christ, did I fuck up?
I’ve been looking for/Tears in the screen door.
I’ve been waiting for/Another disaster.
And I was kinda hoping you'd stay.
I was kinda hoping you'd stay.
I was kinda hoping you'd stay."
Maybe it's just me, but the end of 2013 seemed to bring more than usual flurry of lists. Too many rankings. Too much specificity - the top 10 albums commercially released, the top 10 albums you probably didn't hear, the top 10 songs, top 10 tours...music criticism has evolved(devolved) into a competition for all-encompassing coolness, or maybe it always was. As someone who truly believes the best music is whatever you find you're looking for it, I tend to have a difficult time sitting down and compiling these lists.
And yet, I have, time and time again. I try to go by what I loved the most, what spoke to me, rather than what is the most acclaimed or groundbreaking. This list comes with all the usual prefaces, that I probably could sit here for days rearranging the order of the pack, that I am probably forgetting some, that some are way stronger than others, that staying power will really prove me right or wrong....but honestly, this was a great year for music, and I loved how inspired I was by so many new songs, sounds and artists.
10) RVIVR- The Beauty Between
This album was a late year discovery for me, and it came in just in time. I caught their song, "Paper Thin" on NPR's best of the year list, and stopped everything I was doing to find out who it was. I could see how some might be misled by band name - not another one of those all-caps, weird-spelling things I don't know how to pronounce! No! But oh, how little I cared when I heard how kick-ass their record was. A rather lengthy LP of short little punches of punk rock to the throat topped up with a multi-song themed suite, all with just-right, good-enough screamed/shouted/sung harmonies, and clean, fast and furious guitar solos fueling my jealousy and drive to pick it up and plug in and yell my head off, Completely hooked on everything about it, this album is the one of the few my ears heard this year deserving of the phrase punk as fuck.
"Okay, I touch the ground/Send my roots deep down
When it gets too loud
It's like a wrong way on a one way street
Promise to myself that I just don't keep
You can hate me now/But I'll stick around
Don't fit, full of shit, struggle with identity
Try to find me."
~Wrong Way/One Way
9) Mansions - Doom Loop
If you haven't called Mansions a breakout band from their debut LP, "Doom Loop" should've done it for you. Anyone looking for proof that great rock musicians still exist need to look no further than this record, which was fairly cemented in my morning rotation. Sounds so good on speakers, loud and clear and content. I love how guitar-driven these songs are, I love the classic setup, I love how verbose the lyrics are and how unafraid of the dark the themes are, no matter how coherent the chords. A heavy, hearty sophomore effort from a band that, in 2013, found a solid place in my stereo.
"you’re out for blood in the older south
picture yourself in your dad’s old house, alright
the doors are locked and you can’t see straight
you’re lost for good in that pitch black state, alright
go on and hunt me down
it’s way too late to turn back now.
i don’t hear it when you whisper in your sleep
but every morning it’s just waiting there for me
i got this feeling i can’t shake
i got this broken heart that i just can’t set straight
no I can’t get away."
~Out for Blood
You can hate me now/But I'll stick around
Don't fit, full of shit, struggle with identity
Try to find me."
~Wrong Way/One Way
9) Mansions - Doom Loop
If you haven't called Mansions a breakout band from their debut LP, "Doom Loop" should've done it for you. Anyone looking for proof that great rock musicians still exist need to look no further than this record, which was fairly cemented in my morning rotation. Sounds so good on speakers, loud and clear and content. I love how guitar-driven these songs are, I love the classic setup, I love how verbose the lyrics are and how unafraid of the dark the themes are, no matter how coherent the chords. A heavy, hearty sophomore effort from a band that, in 2013, found a solid place in my stereo.
"you’re out for blood in the older south
picture yourself in your dad’s old house, alright
the doors are locked and you can’t see straight
you’re lost for good in that pitch black state, alright
go on and hunt me down
it’s way too late to turn back now.
i don’t hear it when you whisper in your sleep
but every morning it’s just waiting there for me
i got this feeling i can’t shake
i got this broken heart that i just can’t set straight
no I can’t get away."
~Out for Blood
8) letlive. -The Blackest Beautiful
I still haven't let go of this record. It's as fierce and fresh as the first time I played it, on a night's drive back home from a friend's when I felt alone and pissed off at the world. It became a car record, then a working out playlist, and now it's just my entry into letlive., one of those bands that proves modern hardcore isn't just a bunch of skinny kids with skinny pants and skinny hair, that it's founded in the roots of metal: angry riffs and blood-curdling screams and being pissed off at the world. And yet, they find hooks, groovy moments reminiscent of metal bands before they were unintelligible, and the blend is as delightful of one as a listener as fickle and frustrated as me could hope to find. Plus they toured with Every Time I Die. Long live letlive.
"Taxi drive me to the endLet the meter run into the digits I can't spend
The you'll drive me to the edge
I'll stand upon the precipice and jump to pay my debt...goodbye"
~Virgin Dirt
I still haven't let go of this record. It's as fierce and fresh as the first time I played it, on a night's drive back home from a friend's when I felt alone and pissed off at the world. It became a car record, then a working out playlist, and now it's just my entry into letlive., one of those bands that proves modern hardcore isn't just a bunch of skinny kids with skinny pants and skinny hair, that it's founded in the roots of metal: angry riffs and blood-curdling screams and being pissed off at the world. And yet, they find hooks, groovy moments reminiscent of metal bands before they were unintelligible, and the blend is as delightful of one as a listener as fickle and frustrated as me could hope to find. Plus they toured with Every Time I Die. Long live letlive.
"Taxi drive me to the endLet the meter run into the digits I can't spend
The you'll drive me to the edge
I'll stand upon the precipice and jump to pay my debt...goodbye"
~Virgin Dirt
7) Touche Amore - Is Survived By...
Someone said to me this year, "You like 16-year-old girl metal." That may be true, and I'm taking it as a compliment. I spent more time going to metal shows this year than any other genre, fueled in part by a 10-day jaunt in a van on a DYI tour, but it opened by eyes to what scenes today look like, sound like, feel like, and I liked it. I don't blog about metal a lot, because I like to blog abotu songs with lyrics I really relate to and I don't really listen to metal for the lyrics....but that is not the case with Touche Amore. They're all about the poetry, they're all about pushing the words out there and then raining down on them with layers upon layers of heavy, astmospheric sound. This record hooked me as soon as I streamed it, so full of questioning and legacy and daring in the face doubt. This song in particular fueled me on many a cold, confused day's drive.
"Does this mean that the words won’t come?
Does this mean that I’m at my end? If my joy
comes with the price of my love, I won’t pay if
I have to pretend. There’s always a chance to
relapse and fall back to the person I still fear
is there. So if this ink will suddenly run out,
I’ll refill if I feel the need to share."
~To Write Content
6) Daft Punk- Random Access Memories
I loved this album. I still love it. I play it when I happy, I play it when I am sad, I play it when my iPod has died and I forgot my charger and it happens to be in the disc changer, so I may as well listen to the whole thing through. Music is supposed to make you feel things, and Daft Punk knows how to do this without the listener any the wiser. This is not an album you simply take in, this is an album you have a conversation with, it speaks to you, provokes you. I'm not even sure what you call Daft Punk nowadays are far as genre goes, but I would not hesitate one moment to call them artists, especially when you hear about how much time, effort, and attention to detail went into this record. Complete pros. Kudos for showing them all how it's done.
"And we will never be alone again/'Cause it doesn't happen every day
Kinda counted on you being a friend/Can I give it up or give it away
Now I thought about what I wanna say/But I never really know where to go
So I chained myself to a friend/'Cause I know it unlocks like a door."
~Instant Crush
5) The 1975 - The 1975
Fun, sexy, smart, bold - what to say about The 1975 that someone more well-versed than me hasn't said? This album soundtracked my summer, poolside with friends, curling my hair before heading out, hitting the gym hard, cleaning my apartment and letting the sun stream in the ceiling-high windows. From "Money" to "Robbers" the spitfire attitude of this album is rebellious, and yet contemplative enough to be hip, instrumentally, it's so *now* it's maybe a little ahead of its time, it just might be the pop of the future. I love how well they use simple parts on real instrumentals, occasionally dressing it up with some synth tones and interludes. It's hard to see why this record was passed up on so many other album of the year lists (leaving me to believe a lot of people paid to write about music have no idea what the hell they're talking about and let the accepted trends speak for them). I'll always associate this band with 2013, where life outside of work was spent adventuring and experiencing, curious and excited about the new ways to play in my new-found adult life while still ever-so-slightly keeping a finger on the pulse of the youthful past I'm not quite ready to surrender.
"And don't call it a spade if it isn't a spade.
And go lie on the floor if you want.
The first bit of advice that you gave me that I liked was they're too strong, too strong.
Get in the shower if it all goes wrong.
Yeah, If you wanna find love then you know where the city is."
~The City
4) Jimmy Eat World - Damage
Can Jimmy Eat World release an album that doesn't make it into my top 10? "Damage" is proof that, no, no they cannot. Nearly every review of this album makes a whole bit about how they're older and have lived more life than they did when they wrote "Bleed American" - well, no shit, it's called aging. And nearly every discussion of this band seems to include the brilliant observation that they can't make "Clarity" again - here I thought releasing the same album was what artists were all about! While "Damage" doesn't reinvent any wheels, it is cohesive, it is smart, it is melodic, it is all the things that make JEW a great band that's withstood the test of time. I've played "Please Say No" and "How'd You Have Me" enough times this year to place this album on a most-listened lists. As always with this band, timing is everything, and "Damage" gave me a lot to chew on for some time.
"You know I don't ever sleep, just starting at the ceiling
I'm laid there beneath myself
You should have to be somewhere else
With someone just like me, nothing complicated
All the feelings and fantasy
Can you trust, can you trust
That there's some things, you should never have, never known about"
~No, Never
3)The National - Trouble Will Find Me
You can't rank National albums, really, it's just not something you should do. It's like picking a favorite chocolate or something, they all are good in different, subtle ways while fulfilling the same underlying temptation. Devastation, acceptance, regret and sorrow all make appearances on "Trouble Will Find Me" and they're all addressed with the same curiosity and nervousness, the same awkward intimacy. The National is becoming ubiquitous as far as bands of this decade goes, and while their sound has quieted in a lot of ways it's gotten no less complex; in fact, it's only moreso, with shakers and auxiliary aplenty and experimental tones and timings. On this album, the band proves their mastery of space, balance and the ability to create moments that steal the heart and suspend it for as long as possible before letting it drop and shatter, and I love them deeply for it.
"Don't make me read your mind/You should know me better than that
It takes me too much time/You should know me better than that
You're not that much like me/You should know me better than that
We have different enemies/You should know me better than that
I should leave it alone but you're not right
I should leave it alone but you're not right"
~I Should Live In Salt
2) Jason Isbell - Southeastern
Every now and then you hear an album that transcends so many boundaries, and Southeastern was one of those records. I first recall hearing about Jason Isbell through a New York Times profile, as trendy as that sounds, though I'd recalled the Drive By Truckers from occasional dabbling in the country songwriter genre. Nothing was like this record, though, where the storytelling is so pure and the chords so classic, even staunch no-country listeners instantly recognized its quality and capacity to be moving. Try listening to "Elephant" and not thinking back to your loved ones you lost too soon, who you saw in the throes of mortality and still manage to crack a smile. Isbell is the kind of guy who, when in front of a mic, moves everyone to listen, and something about the simplicity and purity of his songwriting makes me remember that the only way write well is to write honest, straight from the heart. It's unmatched, unpretentious, timeless, and just like it's supposed to sound.
"Once a wise man to the ways of the world
now I've traded those lessons for faith in a girl
Crossed the ocean, thousand years from my home
in this frozen old city of silver and stone
Ships in the harbor and birds on the bluff
don't move an inch when their anchor goes up
And the difference with me is I've fallen in love
Stockholm let me go home."
~Stockholm
1) The Wonder Years - The Greatest Generation
Can I say anything about this record I haven't said already? Maybe this: that it's a shame I haven't seen them yet. The Wonder Years are leaders of the pack as far as the pop punk genre goes, but my love for them comes from a place much more personal and private than any trend, ranking or pack mentality goes. This is a band that, over the last few years, has soundtracked my life and transitions in near-perfect fashion, channeling the same fears and doubts in an aggressive yet meditating sound. So many good moments on this album, solid chord progressions and tense bridges keep an ever present suspension that just pulls me in and doesn't let go. I start listening to this album and I can't put on anything else until I've heard the whole thing. Never once do The Wonder Years completely lose it, as much as Dan Campbell tells you he's going to, there's so much thought and restraint. "The Greatest Generation" is literary in concept, in craftsmanship and contains the best closer they've done yet. I'm glad this album came around at a point in the year when I needed something to scream to, when I needed something loud and fresh and familiar to escape to, and I have a feeling it'll be that way for years to come.
All the people I’ve graduated with,
All have kids, all have wives,
All have people who care if they come home at night.
Well, Jesus Christ, did I fuck up?
I’ve been looking for/Tears in the screen door.
I’ve been waiting for/Another disaster.
And I was kinda hoping you'd stay.
I was kinda hoping you'd stay.
I was kinda hoping you'd stay."
~Passing Through A Screen Door
Honorable mentions:
Into It, Over It. - Intersections (Much as I love "Proper" I haven't given this a fair shake yet. But I will so here it is).
Deafeater - Sunbather (At least three people have told me to listen to this record. I haven't yet. Putting it here to give myself a reminder.)
Haim - Days Are Gone (Pop. Tastic. Love.)
Arctic Monkeys - AM (I only heard one song off this but I really liked it. so I guess I will check out the whole thing eventually).
Atoms for Peace - Amok (Thom Yorke is better than you, always.)
Cecile McLorin Salvant - WomanChild (Amazing artist. Amazing voice. She knows how to sing right from the soul and I love her for that. I need her on vinyl ASAP.)
Sainthood Reps - Headswell (Nu metal for life. I still like the first one better, but this guys have a great thing going.)
Scholar - Chose Adventure (So this friend of mine writes such great songs and his record is way cool.)
Paramore - Paramore (I really liked this record, it was so close to making it in my top 10! But there were enough songs I skipped compared to those I didn't, however, "Ain't It Fun" is definitely in my top 10 sing-a-long songs of the year).
A Day To Remember - Common Courtesy (I liked this album way more than I thought I would. Something very Four Year Strong about it that resonated with me. Also, the story associated with is one for the textbooks are far modern music industry is concerned, many lawsuits and label fights.)
And hey, for kicks, let's look backwards even more:
Best of 2012
Best of 2011
Honorable mentions:
Into It, Over It. - Intersections (Much as I love "Proper" I haven't given this a fair shake yet. But I will so here it is).
Deafeater - Sunbather (At least three people have told me to listen to this record. I haven't yet. Putting it here to give myself a reminder.)
Haim - Days Are Gone (Pop. Tastic. Love.)
Arctic Monkeys - AM (I only heard one song off this but I really liked it. so I guess I will check out the whole thing eventually).
Atoms for Peace - Amok (Thom Yorke is better than you, always.)
Cecile McLorin Salvant - WomanChild (Amazing artist. Amazing voice. She knows how to sing right from the soul and I love her for that. I need her on vinyl ASAP.)
Sainthood Reps - Headswell (Nu metal for life. I still like the first one better, but this guys have a great thing going.)
Scholar - Chose Adventure (So this friend of mine writes such great songs and his record is way cool.)
Paramore - Paramore (I really liked this record, it was so close to making it in my top 10! But there were enough songs I skipped compared to those I didn't, however, "Ain't It Fun" is definitely in my top 10 sing-a-long songs of the year).
A Day To Remember - Common Courtesy (I liked this album way more than I thought I would. Something very Four Year Strong about it that resonated with me. Also, the story associated with is one for the textbooks are far modern music industry is concerned, many lawsuits and label fights.)
And hey, for kicks, let's look backwards even more:
Best of 2012
Best of 2011
Thursday, May 23, 2013
5/23/13
"I was just happy to be a contender.
I was just aching for anything.
I used to have such steady hands but
Now I can't keep them from shaking."
I am very much addicted to the new record from The Wonder Years. It's called "The Greatest Generation." In a week it has become that kind of album that feels like a good friend, the kind you call after a shitty day who listens and understands and helps you keep your head on straight.
I listed to the album a ton when it was streaming pre-release, and picked up a physical copy for $10 at a Hot Topic at the Capital City Mall off of I-83 after work two days after it came out. I purposely hadn't read any album reviews. Took the long way home to get a full car listen in, which is an extra enjoyable experience when you already know the words and where the big moments are. Took me a long time to sit down and write about it, as is often the case with topics of dear import to me.
"Two blackbirds on a highway sign
Are laughing at me at four in the morning.
They played the war drum out of time
So I’m not sure where I’ve been marching.
I wanna be strong, but it’s not easy anymore.
I’m hoping I’m wrong."
~The Devil in My Blooodstream
Chain smoking and reflecting, I thought about how much of the album is about turning despair into absolution, and getting the best you can out of yourself. It's no optimistic tale, by any means. Fear is a prominent theme, but it is embraced. There's hope there, buried in acceptance of, or even surrender to, reality and self-assertion. No shortage of compelling, spot-on lyrics, as you would expect from this band by its fourth LP. Dan Campbell has truly succeeded in spilling his guts with vibrant and original turns of phrase, from personifying devils in bloodstreams and on front porches, to the reminiscent and familiar and ubiquitous memories of old houses and highways.
"The Greatest Generation" is something of a redemption story, of not only the narrator's life but of a era full of mutually lost souls. The kind who are confounded by growing up in a time where they are guaranteed nothing, yet feel the promise of everything all at once, in the blighted cities and the troubled families and the broken, forgotten romances.
"I keep a flashlight
And a small knife in the corner of my bed stand.
I keep a flashlight and the train times,
But you wouldn’t understand.
How could you understand?"
~Passing Through a Screen Door
All deep thoughts aside, it's fabulously fucking fun to listen to.
TWY has always had really precise guitar lines, unbelievably layered - you'll hear the catchy pop punk-style riffs underscored with heavy bass, and dramatic harmonic echoes in a bridge, then pedal-fueled shredding to cap it all off. Solos are stretched out into climatic collapse of call-and-response response singing and thrashing crash hits - don't let the emotions and narratives mislead you, this is a rock band with some fierce ability to throw down. The production mimics the style of the songs, focusing on moments in true Mark Trombino form. I love the way that so many songs seem to build and break. Songs don't end as much as they explode. Drummer Mike Kennedy shines, he's intricate and steady - see the intro of closer "I Just Want To Sell Out My Funeral" for a taste of him at his best. That song might be the best thing they've ever done.
The use of keys and acoustics on tracks like "The Devil in my Bloodstream" and "Madelyn" give it a breather..."Devil" in particular is easily one of the most mature songs TWY have ever produced, though it in no way sacrifices their grit or glory or raw emotion, and I love that. I think that's the way growth is supposed to work, anyway, in a band or a life or whatever.
I'm thrilled with Campell singing lower at moments, and background vocals are used throughout yet just enough to keep (as on other records). The back-ups in the chorus of "Dismantling Summer" makes me smile, and Campbell's cracking in the bridge of "Passing Through a Screen Door" break my heart. "An American Religion," one of the edgier tracks, is incredibly striking and sharp with a bitter taste. One of my most-listened to favorites so far is "The Bastards, The Vultures, The Wolves." I seriously cannot stop listening to this song, because it is about being scrappy, and reminding myself that I am scrappy is the only way I get through the day sometimes.
"I know I was an angry kid
But I scraped and scratched for this
Now I’m stuck holding a bomb
With a fuse that’s still lit"
~The Bastards, The Vultures, The Wolves
The liner notes in the album were very interesting to me (the packaging, by the way, is beautiful and cool and classy). They said something about how *this* generation can, and should, be the next to be great. I want to remember that. I think we all should remember that. How easy it is to sell yourself short. How easy it is to shut off the world. It is much harder to engage, because the second you jump, you know you don't really know where you're going to land.
Simply, this is an amazing album, it is a story of this age for the ages. It tells of scenes and feelings only those who were there and felt it can truly understand. Listening to this record is ultimately reflective for me, and though I generally get that way any time I band I really love has a new release, there will be distinct associations of times and places and feelings I will have with this record. About being almost 25 and still not sure if I'm growing up, if I want to, or if I have already and don't even know it yet. About how every decision terrifies, but no decision depresses. About learning to let go or realizing you can't.
There's something a bit pivotal going on right now, for me personally, and the generation at large. Here I stand staring at the next chapter, knowing full well the damage I've done and the dreams I've desperately clung to....I can list the failures far quicker than the triumphs, though only I will understand why any such moments are important to me. To the rest of the world, who am I? Who are any of us? It's instinctive to say not much, given the smallness of our little lives in the vastness that surrounds us. But I think that's where the triumph is to be found, by giving in to whatever the world offers you, and wherever your life brings you. Being open for whatever harm or hope comes your way. That will fill you, color you, and collectively, if we've all got enough strength to open our eyes and look around and, collectively, forge ahead, we just might make it OK. Maybe better.
"Because I'm sick of seeing ghosts and I know how it's all gonna end.
There's no triumph waiting. There's no sunset to ride off in.
We all want to be great men and there's nothing romantic about it.
I just want to know that I did all I could with what I was given."
~I Just Want To Sell Out My Funeral
The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
4/2/13
"I'm feeling like I'm falling behind"
Sometimes context happens when you're not expecting it.
It's not exactly deja vu, it's not exactly fate or a message from the heavens, but it happens when you're alone with your thoughts just enough - not enough to drive yourself crazy but enough to find yourself still. Maybe your eyes close and your skin shivers just so and your mind clears just enough that you see yourself from 10,000 feet, your present life in all its context.
Head on the desk, ear next to the speakers, new Wonder Years blaring and stirring my soul, context is key. There's a familiarity to this, to contemplating aimlessness and mediocrity and ambition and all the world's pains and possibilities. It's been there through it all, all the heart-versus-heart decisions. All the family trials, and nostalgia of knew-them-when friends, all the lessons in the arts and sciences of self-control. It's all felt very real to me, all of it, but it is all very fragile, like vapor drifting through my fingers. I can see it, but there's no chance of holding on. It will vanish, and give way to something else, just like the wisps of hope and love and fear and faith before it.
I'm not sure if there's anyone out there, actively recording and popularizing their music, who captures mid-20s existentialism with as much fury and anger and hope and perspective (or better bass riffs) than The Wonder Years. Yes, they throw down incredibly hard, and yes, if there is a pop punk scene worth examining in full these days, these are the guys are holding up the epicenter, gang vocals in tow. But lyrically, there's so much to uncover, for more than fans of the genre. Each listen brings out another metaphor, another pattern, another reference. TWY lyrics have a very conversational structure, offering a comfortable disguise for the literary, as they are metaphorical and measured enough to give shape worthy of a story. Just absolutely biting my tongue to see what the rest of "The Greatest Generation" holds after falling in love with this track (and the band all over again).
"Well I'm terrified, like a kid in the 60s
staring at the sky, waiting for the bomb to fall
And it's all a lie, what they say about stability,
it scares me sometimes,
the emptiness I see in my eyes
And all the kids names I've ever liked
Are tied to tragedy
I don't my children growing up to be anything like me
I've been looking tears in the screen door
(tears in the screen door)
I've been waiting for another disaster
(another disaster)
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I keep a flashlight and a small knife in the corner of my bedstand
I keep flashlight and the train times
But you wouldn't understand
How could you understand?
Jesus Christ, I'm 26
All the people I graduated with
All have kids, all have wives
All of people who care if they come home at night
Well Jesus Christ, did I fuck up?
I've been looking for tears in the screen door
(Tears in the screen door)
I've been waiting or another disaster
(Another disaster)
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I was kind of hoping you'd stay."
~Passing Through a Screen Door
The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation
God Save The Wonder Years. I am so unbelievably stoked to hear this album, the rest of their catalog has only gotten better with time in my eyes.
(Sidenote: I participated in AP.net's live chat with TWY this week, and Soupy answered my question! Well, one of them. He did not weigh in on liquor privatization in Pennsylvania, probably because he is straight edge and thus unaffected by the availability of alcohol. I knew it was a longshot, but just throwing this out there so I'm on the written record about it.)
Sometimes context happens when you're not expecting it.
It's not exactly deja vu, it's not exactly fate or a message from the heavens, but it happens when you're alone with your thoughts just enough - not enough to drive yourself crazy but enough to find yourself still. Maybe your eyes close and your skin shivers just so and your mind clears just enough that you see yourself from 10,000 feet, your present life in all its context.
Head on the desk, ear next to the speakers, new Wonder Years blaring and stirring my soul, context is key. There's a familiarity to this, to contemplating aimlessness and mediocrity and ambition and all the world's pains and possibilities. It's been there through it all, all the heart-versus-heart decisions. All the family trials, and nostalgia of knew-them-when friends, all the lessons in the arts and sciences of self-control. It's all felt very real to me, all of it, but it is all very fragile, like vapor drifting through my fingers. I can see it, but there's no chance of holding on. It will vanish, and give way to something else, just like the wisps of hope and love and fear and faith before it.
I'm not sure if there's anyone out there, actively recording and popularizing their music, who captures mid-20s existentialism with as much fury and anger and hope and perspective (or better bass riffs) than The Wonder Years. Yes, they throw down incredibly hard, and yes, if there is a pop punk scene worth examining in full these days, these are the guys are holding up the epicenter, gang vocals in tow. But lyrically, there's so much to uncover, for more than fans of the genre. Each listen brings out another metaphor, another pattern, another reference. TWY lyrics have a very conversational structure, offering a comfortable disguise for the literary, as they are metaphorical and measured enough to give shape worthy of a story. Just absolutely biting my tongue to see what the rest of "The Greatest Generation" holds after falling in love with this track (and the band all over again).
"Well I'm terrified, like a kid in the 60s
staring at the sky, waiting for the bomb to fall
And it's all a lie, what they say about stability,
it scares me sometimes,
the emptiness I see in my eyes
And all the kids names I've ever liked
Are tied to tragedy
I don't my children growing up to be anything like me
I've been looking tears in the screen door
(tears in the screen door)
I've been waiting for another disaster
(another disaster)
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I keep a flashlight and a small knife in the corner of my bedstand
I keep flashlight and the train times
But you wouldn't understand
How could you understand?
Jesus Christ, I'm 26
All the people I graduated with
All have kids, all have wives
All of people who care if they come home at night
Well Jesus Christ, did I fuck up?
I've been looking for tears in the screen door
(Tears in the screen door)
I've been waiting or another disaster
(Another disaster)
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I was kind of hoping you'd stay
I was kind of hoping you'd stay."
~Passing Through a Screen Door
The Wonder Years, The Greatest Generation
God Save The Wonder Years. I am so unbelievably stoked to hear this album, the rest of their catalog has only gotten better with time in my eyes.
(Sidenote: I participated in AP.net's live chat with TWY this week, and Soupy answered my question! Well, one of them. He did not weigh in on liquor privatization in Pennsylvania, probably because he is straight edge and thus unaffected by the availability of alcohol. I knew it was a longshot, but just throwing this out there so I'm on the written record about it.)
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
3/6/13
OMGOMGOMG! THE WONDER YEARS ALBUM COMES OUT ON MAY 14, AND MARK TROMBINO MIXED IT OMGOMGOMG.
"I'm not even sad anymore,
I'm just so tired most nights."
~Logan Circle
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
I am fully prepared for this upcoming album, with the promising title "The Greatest Generation," to soundtrack yet another summer full of life and love and sundresses and growing pains (can you still call them that in your mid-20s?). I've let someone break my heart every summer since 2010. We'll see what happens this time.
"I'm not even sad anymore,
I'm just so tired most nights."
~Logan Circle
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
I am fully prepared for this upcoming album, with the promising title "The Greatest Generation," to soundtrack yet another summer full of life and love and sundresses and growing pains (can you still call them that in your mid-20s?). I've let someone break my heart every summer since 2010. We'll see what happens this time.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
6/30/12
I remember driving into work last summer, listening to this song and thinking "Why the hell I am I still here?"
That was three jobs and hundreds of miles ago. I may have found a way to change my circumstances, but oh how I miss my friends.
I've talked to some on the phone, some I haven't. These are people I've known for more than half my life.
I would just like to tell them I'm doing OK and I miss them. Oh well. Time to go to work.
"I've spent twenty-two years just wading through bullshit
And hey, it's worked so far,
I don't know why I'm here,
But I know who my friends are
So everyone moved in with their girlfriends,
In one-bedroom apartments,
In the town that we grew up in and,
All my friends are in bar bands,
I don't know how it happened,
I hope it pays the rent,
And still there's some days
when I don't think that we'll ever see Dave again
'I'm not sad anymore,
I'm just tired of this place,
And if this year would just end,
I think we'd all be OK'"
~All My Friends Are In Bar Bands
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
And hey, it's worked so far,
I don't know why I'm here,
But I know who my friends are
So everyone moved in with their girlfriends,
In one-bedroom apartments,
In the town that we grew up in and,
All my friends are in bar bands,
I don't know how it happened,
I hope it pays the rent,
And still there's some days
when I don't think that we'll ever see Dave again
'I'm not sad anymore,
I'm just tired of this place,
And if this year would just end,
I think we'd all be OK'"
~All My Friends Are In Bar Bands
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
Thursday, May 24, 2012
5/24/12
I am not in my hometown seeing this band right now.
If I was, you know I'd be singing my heart out to every word, entranced and blown away and in awe of how tight they probably sound during the bust at the end of "And Now I'm Nothing."
The Wonder Years ignited a pop punk spark on a scene that, previously, was fragile and flickering after the establishment grew up, got off the labels and onto a real job or whatever. Pretty much everything else after sounded pathetic and poppy, then these guys came along with fierceness and smarts, and just enough pride to tell you being sad and sorry is not the end of the world.
Once again, it was a way of life.
These boys know how to tell a story, with passion and patience and perspective. Take a lyric from this song, "looking for pizza/all we found was complacency and somewhere to sleep"...that's a poet's line, right there, manipulating a verb like that inside a scene. Well done. Throughout their catalog, metaphors are visceral, biting, while guitar lines have a wonderful way of transitioning between assault-like attacks and heartbreaking solo melodies.
Only The Wonder Years could make touring in Europe sound like a drag. That takes talent. This song has a wonderful soothing quality in its desperation and drive, making me realize and remember that everything troubling, or wonderful, tends to pass as quickly as it showed up. Felt that way about this song even before I had a place to miss.
"So you found me on the floor split open at the seams
Lights are blurring and they're right there in front of me
Tuesday we woke up at one
But it gets dark here at three
It's getting hard to believe in anything
Tuesday we woke up at one
But it gets dark here at three
It's getting hard to believe in anything
Tuesday I called up my dad
Said 'I'm off balance and weak
Feeling homesick for things I know don't think of me'
He said 'It's gonna get lighter, son
Just wait there and see
It's getting hard to believe
Last night in Leeds
Al and I found ourselves running the city
Looking for pizza, only found was complacency
Seeing somewhere to sleep
I'm still waiting for the map to say
Home's a week away
The boys are drowning in ?
I'm amazed they can breathe
Weebles just got caught stealing a Christmas tree
We drove all the way to Glasgow
Just to watch our defeat
But the floor against the bed last night was too heavy
Last night in Leeds
Joe was talking to some barmaid
Trying to get lucky
I think it almost worked until he ran into Bobby
Kid pulled the cockblock of the century
I'm still waiting for the map to say
Home's a week away
Unless Great Britain comes to me and says
'It's not so bad if you don't look at it that way'
Last night in Leeds
The world collapsed all around me
Along with the shelf in the basement of Liv's house
By two or three, I thought we'd lost Josh and Mikey
They were skyhooking cans they hadn't emptied out
Last night in Leeds
I know we woke all the neighbors
I don't think anybody slept that night
Last night in Leeds
Things got a bit lighter
I guess my dad was right
I'm still waiting for the map to say
Home's a week away
Unless Great Britain comes to me and says
'It's not so bad if you don't look at it that way'"
~Hostels and Brothels
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
12/27/11
My Top 10 Favorite Albums in 2011
I'm hesitant to call this a "best of the year" list, because best is a very subject term. So, here are my favorites:
10)Foo Fighters - Wasting Light
They still got it. No lie. I've seen enough live performances from this album to know that NO one can rock a room like the Foos. "Walk" is likely one of the best mainstream rock songs that came out this year, and Dave Grohl & co. continue to make their messages known and connect with society. Even thought "Wasting Light" may not have the staying power of their other catalog titles, the band still sure does.
9)Manchester Orchestra - Simple Math
A band we hadn't heard from in a minute came back with power, with perspective and punch. Take a listen to the title track, or "Apprehension" and you'll see that Andy Hull pours out his heart like it's made of cheap vodka. True, that's the biographical text we've come to know and love from this band, but this time around in it's a new glaze. Emo chords are traded in for darker, twisted sounds, and there's as much layering as there is stripped-down, laid-bare musings.
8)The Dangerous Summer - War Paint
This band captured my heart early in the year when I discovered "Reach for the Sun," and when their sophomore "War Paint" came out, the band quickly became the soundtrack to my summer. Loss, redemption, struggle, rinse, repeat. The title track is a rallying call to rise above, "Work in Progress" is a retreat from the world. Album closer "Waves" could make you conquer the world, while reminding your loved ones to do the same.
7)Bon Iver - Bon Iver
It had been too long since "For Emma, Forever Ago" and we needed to hear from Bon Iver again. We did, this fall, and the self-titled album captures a place that feels snowy, warm, effervescent. "Minnesota, WI" is just one example of how production should enhance instrumentation, not bury it, and "Towers" clips along almost like an Old West saloon song, maybe one that mated with binary. I dig the style.
6) The Joy Formidable - The Big Roar
I discovered the Welch trio on Pandora around the same time this album came out and holy shit was I blown away. Shoegazey rock? Big guitars? Chick singer? Count me in! Don't let the radio edit of "Whirring" fool you - these guys know their riffs, they know their layers, and they know how to blow your mind.
5)Ryan Adams - Ashes and Fire
One of my most-anticipated albums of 2011, and it didn't let me down a drop. Ryan is back with a pillow-soft smile, but the beat-up, broke-down desperation lives on. "Lucky Now" will hopefully be played on Grey's Anatomy when the second half of this season airs. If I'm lucky. Songs like "Dirty Rain," "Save Me" and the title track show that Ryan Adams is a master of the ballad formula in its truest sense, and with this album he's shown us no age, illness, marriage or critique will keep him from developing his talents.
4)Wilco - The Whole Love
Wilco is an awesome band. We knew this, we knew this because of "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot," we knew this because of "Sky Blue Sky" but Jeff Tweedy continues to come up with some of the catchiest, sly-ist little songs I've ever heard. "Born Alone" is the type of song that makes me want to dye my hair dirty blonde, wear daisies behind my ears and hop in a pick-up owned by a guy with just the right amount of stubble on his cheeks. This album should be enough to make this band triumphantly mainstream, but for some reason I still feel like they are kind of under everyone's radar. Maybe that's where they want to be.
3)The Decemberists - The King is Dead
"Don't Carry it All" is, in my opinion, the song that sums up where we need to go as a society. And for that, I give them extreme props. While it's lacking a strict storyline, you know what this record is about all the same and I think that's a strength. Instead of a script, characters and drama, we have scenes and messages. I also know that "Down by the Water" was overplayed like a motherfucker on indie radio, so we can only assume that means The Decemberists, with this release, are cemented in indie history. Applause.
2)Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues
"What good is it to sing helplessness blues?/Why should I wait for anyone else?" If you're looking for political philosophy musings as you yearn for an apple orchard to run through, Fleet Foxes will certainly soothe your desires. This is a band who I respected and enjoyed, and that's only been furthered by this record. It rises, peaks and falls like an orchestra might, uncovering safeness in smallness and boldness in triumph.
1)The Wonder Years - Suburbia I've Given You All and Now I'm Nothing
Just when I thought I was maturing out of pop punk, The Wonder Years came along and gave me a reason to stay. I was familiar with a few songs from their last release, "The Upsides," and picked up "Suburbia" on a whim 'cause I liked the title. I am a little amazed at the story they've woven through this record. You can see the sad town, you can feel the bitter winter, and you can hear the kids partying in backyards late at night. The opening track is an anthem for recovery from the toughest falls, the longest stretches of self-deprecating doubt. "And Now I'm Nothing" is acceptance, surrender to the now and the way it is. In between, "I Won't Say the Lord's Prayer" is an atheist seeking not answers but apathy, and "I've Given You All" is my favorite song I've ever heard about a homeless man. If you were about to write off the genre, don't, because the honesty is still there. This is the record for those who want to get out of this town and start again, even if there's no way out yet.
Honorable mentions to the following albums which I enjoy but have not listened to thoroughly enough to rank against the others: The Black Keys - El Camino; The Civil Wars - Barton Hallow; Laura Marling - A Creature I Do Not Know; Dia Frampton - Red.
EDIT: Aw shit I forgot about Taking Back Sunday. With John Nolan! I missed them in concert 'cause my car died and I was kind of homeless for a couple days. But good record, blasted it many times on 5 and 20 in Canandaigua.
EDIT 2: Iron and Wine! I suck at this.
I'm hesitant to call this a "best of the year" list, because best is a very subject term. So, here are my favorites:
10)Foo Fighters - Wasting Light
They still got it. No lie. I've seen enough live performances from this album to know that NO one can rock a room like the Foos. "Walk" is likely one of the best mainstream rock songs that came out this year, and Dave Grohl & co. continue to make their messages known and connect with society. Even thought "Wasting Light" may not have the staying power of their other catalog titles, the band still sure does.
9)Manchester Orchestra - Simple Math
A band we hadn't heard from in a minute came back with power, with perspective and punch. Take a listen to the title track, or "Apprehension" and you'll see that Andy Hull pours out his heart like it's made of cheap vodka. True, that's the biographical text we've come to know and love from this band, but this time around in it's a new glaze. Emo chords are traded in for darker, twisted sounds, and there's as much layering as there is stripped-down, laid-bare musings.
8)The Dangerous Summer - War Paint
This band captured my heart early in the year when I discovered "Reach for the Sun," and when their sophomore "War Paint" came out, the band quickly became the soundtrack to my summer. Loss, redemption, struggle, rinse, repeat. The title track is a rallying call to rise above, "Work in Progress" is a retreat from the world. Album closer "Waves" could make you conquer the world, while reminding your loved ones to do the same.
7)Bon Iver - Bon Iver
It had been too long since "For Emma, Forever Ago" and we needed to hear from Bon Iver again. We did, this fall, and the self-titled album captures a place that feels snowy, warm, effervescent. "Minnesota, WI" is just one example of how production should enhance instrumentation, not bury it, and "Towers" clips along almost like an Old West saloon song, maybe one that mated with binary. I dig the style.
6) The Joy Formidable - The Big Roar
I discovered the Welch trio on Pandora around the same time this album came out and holy shit was I blown away. Shoegazey rock? Big guitars? Chick singer? Count me in! Don't let the radio edit of "Whirring" fool you - these guys know their riffs, they know their layers, and they know how to blow your mind.
5)Ryan Adams - Ashes and Fire
One of my most-anticipated albums of 2011, and it didn't let me down a drop. Ryan is back with a pillow-soft smile, but the beat-up, broke-down desperation lives on. "Lucky Now" will hopefully be played on Grey's Anatomy when the second half of this season airs. If I'm lucky. Songs like "Dirty Rain," "Save Me" and the title track show that Ryan Adams is a master of the ballad formula in its truest sense, and with this album he's shown us no age, illness, marriage or critique will keep him from developing his talents.
4)Wilco - The Whole Love
Wilco is an awesome band. We knew this, we knew this because of "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot," we knew this because of "Sky Blue Sky" but Jeff Tweedy continues to come up with some of the catchiest, sly-ist little songs I've ever heard. "Born Alone" is the type of song that makes me want to dye my hair dirty blonde, wear daisies behind my ears and hop in a pick-up owned by a guy with just the right amount of stubble on his cheeks. This album should be enough to make this band triumphantly mainstream, but for some reason I still feel like they are kind of under everyone's radar. Maybe that's where they want to be.
3)The Decemberists - The King is Dead
"Don't Carry it All" is, in my opinion, the song that sums up where we need to go as a society. And for that, I give them extreme props. While it's lacking a strict storyline, you know what this record is about all the same and I think that's a strength. Instead of a script, characters and drama, we have scenes and messages. I also know that "Down by the Water" was overplayed like a motherfucker on indie radio, so we can only assume that means The Decemberists, with this release, are cemented in indie history. Applause.
2)Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues
"What good is it to sing helplessness blues?/Why should I wait for anyone else?" If you're looking for political philosophy musings as you yearn for an apple orchard to run through, Fleet Foxes will certainly soothe your desires. This is a band who I respected and enjoyed, and that's only been furthered by this record. It rises, peaks and falls like an orchestra might, uncovering safeness in smallness and boldness in triumph.
1)The Wonder Years - Suburbia I've Given You All and Now I'm Nothing
Just when I thought I was maturing out of pop punk, The Wonder Years came along and gave me a reason to stay. I was familiar with a few songs from their last release, "The Upsides," and picked up "Suburbia" on a whim 'cause I liked the title. I am a little amazed at the story they've woven through this record. You can see the sad town, you can feel the bitter winter, and you can hear the kids partying in backyards late at night. The opening track is an anthem for recovery from the toughest falls, the longest stretches of self-deprecating doubt. "And Now I'm Nothing" is acceptance, surrender to the now and the way it is. In between, "I Won't Say the Lord's Prayer" is an atheist seeking not answers but apathy, and "I've Given You All" is my favorite song I've ever heard about a homeless man. If you were about to write off the genre, don't, because the honesty is still there. This is the record for those who want to get out of this town and start again, even if there's no way out yet.
Honorable mentions to the following albums which I enjoy but have not listened to thoroughly enough to rank against the others: The Black Keys - El Camino; The Civil Wars - Barton Hallow; Laura Marling - A Creature I Do Not Know; Dia Frampton - Red.
EDIT: Aw shit I forgot about Taking Back Sunday. With John Nolan! I missed them in concert 'cause my car died and I was kind of homeless for a couple days. But good record, blasted it many times on 5 and 20 in Canandaigua.
EDIT 2: Iron and Wine! I suck at this.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
9/4/11
I do love this song. Heard it on a mixtape.
"I'm looking for the upsides to these panic attack nights
Where I'm staying in eating take out food by TV light
I'm trying to play the b-side to this awkward life of mine
You could flip me over, I'd sing a few lines about how
I'm so used to shooting myself in the kneecaps
Standing in the way of progress
Or letting down my friends
So I'm nailing shards of hope together
To put something over my head
Cause you know here it's always raining
And it happened again, it happened again
She said, I let this slide when we were younger
You know you don't have to write like this
The whole world's full of losers
If you get a chance to win, take it"
~Washington Square Park
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
"I'm looking for the upsides to these panic attack nights
Where I'm staying in eating take out food by TV light
I'm trying to play the b-side to this awkward life of mine
You could flip me over, I'd sing a few lines about how
I'm so used to shooting myself in the kneecaps
Standing in the way of progress
Or letting down my friends
So I'm nailing shards of hope together
To put something over my head
Cause you know here it's always raining
And it happened again, it happened again
She said, I let this slide when we were younger
You know you don't have to write like this
The whole world's full of losers
If you get a chance to win, take it"
~Washington Square Park
The Wonder Years, The Upsides
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