10/16/14

Lately I've observed how music is as much a physical manisfestation as it is a sonic one. Its presence is so very tangible. 

I spent 20 minutes the other day looking through an old beat-up CD binder and sifting through piles of cracked jewel cases looking for this particular disc (to no avail, yet). I fiddle with the cord on my headphones throughout the day, and try not to sing to myself. I come home and pry open a sleeve to slip out the dense, thin vinyl and smell its decades-old dust or plastic newness. Then I settle in and put my fingers to strings, in hopes they'll come to an understanding with each other this time. And some days, I wake up too early and stretch my spine and extend my toes toward the sky, crack my bones and balance to the tune of the piano, focusing on time and space and little else, for in some moments, this connection is the key to clarity, arriving unexpected where the mind and body meet. 

"Love,
I won't break your heart,
it's a long way down from here,
every time you fall and break apart,
i will pick you up again.

With your head up high,
would you try,
try to place your feet back on the ground,
I found that its easier to hide,
in the cold alone,Unraveled since the day you fell apart,
oh but honey i'm alive.

Love,
I won't break your heart,
cause I've seen this all before,
you're a fire that grows from just a spark,
and then walks right out the door.

With your head up high,
would you try,
try to place your feet back on the ground,
I found that it's easier to hide,
in the cold alone,
Unraveled since the day you fell apart,
oh but honey I'm alive.

Crying on the phone,
when you said you were alone,
I am gonna stay,
though your friends have gone away,
all the secrets that we have,
only keep the worlds alive,
but you've got something left to give,
if you'd only learn to live.

With your head up high,
would you try,
cause your the only one to pull me through,
it's true,
and it seems a waste of time,
to grow old alone,
we've been dyin since the day we fell apart,
oh honey i'm still alive, i'm still alive."
~The Day You Fell Apart

The New Frontiers, Mending

10/8/14

Three in the morning and the sad songs didn't start til 2 a.m. But it was just the right timing, past the point of hoping for sleep while verging on acceptance of the insomnia ahead. Somehow it took several hours of tossing and turning and ruminating before I sought sonic distraction.

Of course, as is often the case, the most suitable finds were perfectly randomized. Old favorites whose notes felt warm and comforting to tired ears, plucked by an algorithm with no knowledge of my state of mind. Listening to these familiar songs, played in past desperate times, reminded me this, all of this, too, shall pass, be it three to five minutes and four to six chords at a time.



This song. This song is meaningful, with glimmering darkness that swallows you whole. Few words, small melody, with cinematic, visceral sound. It reminds me of worse times, and better ones, the safe familiar vision of that light so far in the distance.

"Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame."

~Breathe Me, 

Sia, Color the Small Ones

What a find. This album is a perennial rediscovery,and well-worth it,because it's solid from start to finish and desperate folk-sad with an alt-rock sound. Haunting vocals, which, I'd say, all three of these tracks have in common. This is a song for rainy nights and whiskey tears. I'm halfway there.

"Anything to make you smile
You are the ever-living ghost of what once was
I never want to hear you say
That you'd be better off
Or you liked it that way

But no one is ever gonna love you more than I do
No one's gonna love you more than I do."

~No One's Gonna Love You More Than I Do 

Band of Horses, Cease to Begin




Early-stage Radiohead. What more is there to say? Truly one of the best albums of all time, a precursor to the genius works to come with a little bit of that grunge rock angst still kicking around the edges.. Think I found the right album for the remainder of this sullen night. One that provokes a little thoughtfulness, a little depth, which are the intellectual ways to describe wallowing, I think.

"Two jumps in a week
I bet you think that's pretty clever don't you boy?
Flying on your motorcycle,
Watching all the ground beneath you drop
You'd kill yourself for recognition,
Kill yourself to never ever stop
You broke another mirror,
You're turning into something you are not

Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry,
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry.

Drying up in conversation,
You will be the one who cannot talk.
All your insides fall to pieces,
You just sit there wishing you could still make love.
They're the ones who'll hate you,
When you think you've got the world all sussed out,
They're the ones who'll spit at you,
You will be the one screaming out.

Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry

It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing that you ever, ever had
It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing you ever had has gone away.

Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry,
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry,
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry,
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry."

~High and Dry 

Radiohead, The Bends

9/30/14

"Maybe every promise anybody makes 

Is destined for the rocks
The longer it takes
Daylight is so close I can almost taste it
It's all I got, and it's not right

Everything is broken in my mind
Ain't no place to run
Ain't no place to hide
Don't wanna lose control
Baby I just might."

Is there any better antidote to any sick feeling than the perfect guitar line? No, not really, and so often I find what I'm looking for in Ryan Adams. His latest record did not disappoint., It exceeded my expectations, stepping up its aggression from the pretty yet maudlin folk of Ashes and Fire, tapping into a classic-rock cadence and delivering the straightest, surest messages from a crooked, complicated heart. The first time I heard "I Just Might," I must've played it a dozen times in a row, on a sullen, pivotal Wednesday night spent pacing and gnawing at my fingertips. Songs about this kind of desperation - the mad kind - are hard to do in this blues-rock style without coming off as kitcshy, but his always-sharp playing and subtle melody changes add sophistication to chords and structure that, in less masterful hands, could feel far less effective and elegant. I love love love this song. 

See how slowly it builds? See how effortlessly it repeats, but not quite? Hear how far a little tambourine can go? The final bars and the outro are  perfectly contrasted, a dash of uplift followed by the now-familiar shadow of a melody. His lyrics and imagery, as they are on the rest of this fulfilling self-titled, are direct, dramatic and precise - "shaking in the wind like a lame excuse," "ghosts dwell in the streets from a hit and run."  The pace toys with the idea of increasing without really committing, never hitting that point of no return into an all-out break, but it feels like it just might, proving how sound can better encapsulate a feeling than most, or any, combination words may ever hope to. Though I like these words, though they mean something to me, the composition here tells the story. This is what it sounds like to feel tangled and naked and obvious, lost and dark but so, so aware of the ever-approaching brink. What a precarious place. 

This is, I think, one of my favorite albums of the year, for so many songs and moments. I could see where it sounds too familiar to feel fresh, but these songs are ripped from the pages in so many ways, and crafted with such expertise that I am hard pressed to find a better recent example of what it means to write good, pure songs, straight from the heart and the lips and the strings, than these. The last four tracks, in particular, are my favorites. I will listen to them much more before this year is through, and this everlasting Ryan Adam's admiration/inspiration grows.

"Hell is rising in front of my face
I'm free from desires, I rise above the maze
Every step I take, closer to the sun
Darkness is so loud, surrounding everyone
Ghosts dwell in the streets from a hit and run
Keep your head down
Keep your eyes shut tight
Don't wanna lose control
Baby I just might
Don't wanna lose control
I just might
Don't wanna lose control
I just might
I just might

You make a wish, you want it to come true
But somewhere underneath all the hope is the truth
Prayers go unanswered
You're waiting for the proof
Don't know what to say
Don't what to do

Maybe every promise anybody makes is destined for the rocks
The longer it takes
Daylight is so close I can almost taste it
Don't know what to say, don't know what I said
Everything is broken in my head
Lost out in the darkness, looking for the light
Think I'm gonna run
Baby I just might
I might,
I might,
I might,
I might..."

~I Just Might
Ryan Adams, Ryan Adams

9/25/14

This is my favorite Black Keys song of late, though it's not new. I suppose I first heard it on a breeze-through listen of El Camino after its release, an album I appreciated but never listened to much, as I always favored the older stuff. "Little Black Submarines" re-entered my consciousness as a radio edit in mid-August. Now it is a weekly, or daily, obsessive listen.

It's classic Black Keys in the best way, dreary and aggressive, composed and chaotic. They performed it during a magnificent spectacle of an arena tour in Pittsburgh earlier this month, and I felt stunned by Dan Auerbach playing solo in spotlight. I felt shaken by the kick kicking in at the bust, enraptured by the newfound attack of the hook. Subtle tambourine and synth harken back to this band's earlier days, the ones of rebellious distortion and analog glory. Then everything collides, a punishing offensive of one loud-ass guitar and a little of everything else backing it up. Auerbach's effortless cool is trademark, and rugged, and I can't think of a better sound than his vintage pedal-fuzz to accompany this hardening of hearts. Lyrical brilliance has never been this band's strong suit, though it has never needed to be with this kind of blues-rock feeling, and yet here they hit their mark with dead-on aim, with a story of a desperate broken heart sullen and thrashing in its own misery.

Vulnerability never sounded so tough.




"Little black submarines,
Operator please,
Put me back on the line.
Told my girl I'd be back
Operator please,
This is wreckin' my mind

Oh can it be,
The voices calling me,
They get lost,
And out of time,
I should've seen it glow,
But everybody knows,
That a broken heart is blind.
That a broken heart is blind.

Pick you up, let you down,
When I wanna go
To a place I can hide.
You know me, I had plans,
But they just disappeared,
To the back of my mind.

Oh can it be,
The voices calling me,
They get lost,
And out of time.
I should've seen a glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind.

Treasure maps, fallen trees,
Operator please
Call me back when it's time
Stolen friends and disease,
Operator please,
Patch me back to my mind.

Oh can it be?
The voices calling me
They get lost
And out of time.
I should've seen a glow
But everybody knows
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind
That a broken heart is blind."
~Little Black Submarines
The Black Keys, El Camino

9/21/14

"I took a trip down south and felt the sun on my face,
and it made things OK for a second.
I drew a picture of my problems when I was going insane.
And I focused on the currents.
It's the funny thing about it,
I never seem to worry that every single current's not the same.
It's all about position, and where I choose to lay.
And God, I am going away."

I heard this song for the first time in awhile today, a surprise find on a borrowed iPod. I heard this song with fresh ears today, and it meant all the same that it used to, filtered through a new lens. I think this was one of the first TDS songs I really *heard*, sometime while living in the Finger Lakes racking my brain over how to do better at my job and not fuck up relationships.  That was four years ago. Some things, they don't change - like the constant drive for self-exploration and development AJ Perdomo captures so well. This album, I think, is certainly his best. From the time I first heard it, I remember loving the drama in his voice, the slow-climb guitar parts and the intensity of the minor chords. This song in particular is a lesson in how to build tension with tight patterns and throw grenades in a bridge, a step one example of the kind of pop punk/alt rock made all the brighter and better by its intelligence, thoughtfulness and dig-deep awareness. This song was a good one to hear today, offering comfort to a wild, raging heart and a line of scripture for a tired head, making things OK for a second. 



"Would you believe in my songs
if I gave them all to you?
I can find the strength in my voice
to call you back and say that everything is bad without you
and I'm lost again, oh God believe I'm lost again."
~Weathered
The Dangerous Summer, Reach for the Sun