7/12/15

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

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

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

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

7/7/15

I've been on a huge Eisley kick lately, thanks mostly in part to a tailored Pandora station entitled "cold summer" that blends full-band, string-focused indie with pop hooks and sad, sad stories (Keane, Death Cab, The Format, The Killers).

I love how romantic and swelling their sound is, with the most melodic, full voices and carefully placed accents. Most of their songs have a narrative sense, something romantic or hopeful or lost or a combination of sorts, but all have really gorgeous, silky melodies. It's a bright sound, but not a light one, deep but not weigthy. Some are dancier than others, some are sadder than others, but I've found them to be thoroughly enjoyable for trying on something new.



"Tell me why I'm discontented
Will I die without the details in my hands?
I feel these vines surrounding my heart, 
I fear I'm moving at a slower pace again
Tell me how this all unfolds.

I can't find the secret to survive
To grow old safe and sound
Whoa, life is sifting through like the sands in the hourglass
There's not a moment to relive my time and space
There's not a moment to undo anything

How could I have been this careless, oh whoa
I fear I'm locked inside another cage again
Shake me from these torturous dreams where I keep screaming
Can't see how to overcome

'Cause I can't find the secret to survive
To grow old safe and sound
Whoa, life is sifting through like the sands in the hourglass, whoa
There's not a moment to relive my time and space
There's not a moment to undo anything."

~Millstone
Eisley, Currents

7/6/15

Can Brand New just show us what they've been working with already? Jesus Christ, enough with the roll out.

No matter how pissed off that makes me, though, I can listen to "The Devil and God..." and forgive all of their damning publicity decisions, because it just never stops Feeling Relevant. You could ask a dozen people who like modern rock music about Brand New and maybe 30-40 percent have heard of them? All of whom probably really love them, or have some attachment to the band even from their "Your Favorite Weapon" days. For me, "Deja Entednu" will forever hold a place on my desert island five (Deja, Clarity, Rumours, Abbey Road, ???) and was really a milemaker for the scene and its ascent, but I think "The Devil And God..." cuts a little deeper sometimes, somehow, finds the wounded dark places and exacerbates the pain. It screams and pleads and begs more, it gives up and falls down harder, and I can think of no better soundtrack for a day or decade's worth of fervent aggression.



"Hey hey hey, Mr. Hangman,
Go get your rope
Your daughters weren't careful,
I fear that I am a slippery slope
Now even if I lay my head down at night
After a day I got perfectly right
She won't know...
She won't know.
She won't know."
~You Won't Know
Brand New, The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me

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.

6/29/15

Currently celebrating the fact I had the wisdom to make the spontaneous purchase of Elliot Smith on vinyl a few months ago. Called "An Introduction to Elliott Smith," it has some of my most favorite tracks including the original "Miss Misery" and "Twilight." After a weekend with rained-out plans and little to do but listen to the storm and my head and the music, I put this on and heard Smith the closest to the way I did when I first discovered his work: closed up, locked up and searching for serenity.

People will tell you he is sad and melodramatic. He certainly can be those things,  but listening to his music has such a profound, uplifting effect when you're already mostly down. It's partly his playing style, patient and plucky, and largely his vocal delivery, as delicate and withdrawn as he was. His heat so obviously broken always  - even when he's a little more aggressive about it, or when it's barely beating. He's a songwriter's songwriter, when it comes to the simplicity he displayed. The best lines that punch you in the chest are the ones that come with the least anticipation, like in this little two-verse lament. The rhymes are elementary, accessible, as they toss around these concepts of love and loss and death and lucidity.

There's something so somber-pleasant about his work, like wildflowers plucked off by the wind.

"I'm waiting for the train
Subway that only goes one way
The stupid thing that'll come to pull us apart,
And make everybody late.
You spent everything you had
Wanted everything to stop that bad,
Now I'm a crashed credit card registered to Smith -
Not the name that you called me with.

You turned white like a saint,
I'm tired of dancing on a pot of gold-flaked paint.
Oh we're so very precious, you and I.And everything that you do makes me want to die,
Oh I just told the biggest lie.
 
I just told the biggest lie.
The biggest lie."
~The Biggest Lie
Elliott Smith, Elliot Smith