It's frustrating to me to realize all of the books I'll never read and music I'll never enjoy. I have this recurring vision that I'll be buried alive under a pile of books and magazines and journals and cd's that constantly accumulate at a much faster (at least geometric, though sometimes it seems exponential) rate than I can ever truly consume them.
Sometimes I think it would be nice to commit the sort of crime that avoids prison but that gets me a nice year of house arrest. Then I'd get caught up on my reading. And cd's. And dvd's. But I'd probably still be so far behind that I'd have to break through the barrier toward the end of the sentence in hopes of getting another year. With my luck a serial killer would move in next door and I'd end up solving the case after putting the lives of me and mine in jeopardy and get my sentence reduced. And yes, I just rocked a Disturbia reference, because I am comfortable in my own skin.
Without further ado:
The Danielson Famile -- "Fetch the Compass Kids": This is weird stuff. I first discovered this bizarre Christian evangelical band through a long Rick Moody article in The Believer. Atonal and messy and sometimes almost unbearably shrill (intrigued yet?) these God-rockers (though I'm not certain "rock" is the word -- maybe "loud troubadours") don't sing overtly about God. In fact, had I not read the Moody article and still stumbled upon the Danielson Famile I more than likely would never have guessed that they were trying to help me get my Christ on, which really is the best sort of Christian music, and I mean that as a compliment to good Christian music. This is not comforting tunesmithing, but it is a compelling kind of discomfiting. Decidedly not for everyone. Good music often isn't. Grade: B+
The Darkness -- Permission to Land: Fuse bombastic heavy metal affectations with the transgendered showiness of glam rock with a sentimental attachment to the age of disco with Spinal Tap and what do you get? You get the Darkness, that's what. Soaring, screaming falsettos merge with monster guitar riffs and lyrics that aren't but ought to be about Valkeries (Valkyries?) characterize a band that in turn characterizes a mini-movement within modern rock. I'm not certain if this (the movement and the Darkness) is serious or a joke, but if its a joke it's a pretty good one, and if its serious, well, give me a double shot and a beer and turn that shit up. Grade: B
Death Cab For Cutie -- Plans: Once a band enters your pantheon everything they produce is likely to make you happy. At least until they put out the absolute dreck that pushes you toward an existential crisis. And even then you'll apologize for it rather than give it a lashing. Thankfully, Death Cab's latest (from 2005 -- let's get in the studio Mssrs. Gabbard, Harmer, McGerr, and Walla) is far from dreck. Gabbard's warbly-lovely voice is the driving force behind Death Cab's lush harmonics and melodic pop. Plans is not their best album. It is still a wonderful album. Grade: A-
Two Albums From: The Decemberists -- "Picaresque," The Crane Wife: I've fallen so far behind that I was still absorbing 2005's "Picaresque" when the prolific Decemberists released 2006's The Crane Wife and now I am catching up on both. Both are fine albums from a band that really ought to be annoying. Colin Meloy's voice is nasally and scratchy and his lyrics are hyperliterate and highly literary. Some might call him pretentious, because "pretentious" is probably the most overused and misused word among educated Americans. It is a word rarely used correctly because to call someone pretentious is to claim to have an insight into their tastes, education, and interests that few of us have. Meloy has a higher degree (I think and MFA, but it might be an MA) in English literature. He is a published writer. I also suspect that he is an incredibly odd fellow, but if the oddness of its creators disqualified us from liking the music we like most of us would probably cut our collections by about three fourths. In any case, by all measures, Meloy actually is both deeply literate and literary and so his lyrics are in keeping with what might be the smartest rock band this side of Radiohead. Coincidentally (and wholly unintentionally on my part, as I am a slave to the alphabet), the producer for both of these albums is Christopher Walla, Death Cab's keyboardist and jack of all instruments. What that means, I have no idea. in any case, since I've been listening to these albums together it is difficult to differentiate them. Both do a good job of flipping between upbeat and balldy numbers, with the upbeat outnumbering the ballady by an appropriate number. If you like The Decemberists, you'll like both of these albums (but if you like the Decemberists, you already have both of these albums). If you don't know the Decemberists, buy one and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. If you know the Decemberists but don't like them you are probably the sort of person who misuses the word "pretentious" and so I'll take your opinions with a grain of salt. Grade for both: A-
The Derek Trucks Band -- Songlines: This album inspires me to discuss three issues, which I will now do: 1) I have no idea how to alphebetize albums such as this one. Is it a "T" because of the whole last name first, first name last thing? Is it a "D" because of the fact that they are the Derek Trucks Band, and thus the formal band name starts with a D, assuming we skip "the"? I'm going with "D" but I can be convinced to go the other way if anyone has a strong opinion. 2) I bought this wholly on the advice of a rave from Stephen King in his regular column on the back page of Entertainment Weekly, from which I have now come to realize two things. The first of these is that Stephen King is an execrable writer. Yes, yes, I know, he's a zillionaire and he's sold a billion copies of his books. He's a more successful writer than I will ever be. And maybe his books, which I have not read since I was ten, are better than his essays in EW. But go and read at least five of these and tell me that most of them are not truly awful. The second observation is that Stephen King has taste that ranges from the merely uninteresting to the really dubious. Which brings us to: 3) This is a perfectly cromulent album. I thought it was wretched when I first listened. It has now grown on me to the point where I think it is simply marginal. Derek Trucks is a good guitar player. And when I turn this album off right now, the odds that I'll ever listen to any of it again except when the songs pop up on shuffle on my iTunes or iPod are pretty much zero. Grade: C+
Kevin Divine -- Split the Country, Split the Street: Here is what I wrote about his first album in a post reviewing various pop culture offerings at Rebunk (which, as I read through our June 2005 entries in order to find this excerpt I came to realize was really, really good):
Kevin Devine: Make the Clocks Move: Sublime pop with an opening song, 'Ballgame,' that makes you ache for the lead singer. Redolent of Elliot Smith."Ballgame" is the best song about depression and self doubt and, believe it or not, war (about which he is remarkably sad and smart and not at all what you might expect from an indie rocker), in the last decade. It is beautiful and aching and smart. It took the second album some time to grow on me, but whern it did I realized that in a just world Kevin Devine would sell ten million records. Instead I get to share him with you like a precious secret that I make clear is ok for you to share with anybody you meet. "Aftermath" (which is more clearly anti-war, revealing as much as anything changes in the body politic in the last couple of years) is this album's "Ballgame," but the whole thing, as was its predecessor, is transcendentally great. Grade: A-
Donnas -- Gold Medal: The Donnas are sassy thrash rock chicks who write about guys and partying and relationships and preparing to be pissed off and being pissed off and showing the consequences of their being pissed off. The songs are melodic but thrashy, punky but poppy. It's all dumb rawk, and dumb rawk can be good. Sometimes very good. The Donnas won't change the world. But you can drink beer while listening to them, and you'll enjoy both the beer and the Donnas, and there are certainly worse things than that. Grade: B+
Doves -- Some Cities: Sometimes lost in the Britpop deluge is the Mancunian trio Doves. All this tells me is that mainstream tastes are ephemeral and fame rarely allotted based on sheer value. Doves are a great band that produces uptempo music that sounds graver than it is. Some Cities is their third studio album, though they have also released a handful of ep's and one compilation of B-sides and ephemera. The production values stand out on this disc, bringing all of the elements of the trio to bear. The lyrics are up-front but not annoyingly so, and the instrumentation tends towards the lush, but not showily so. Grade:A-
Bob Dylan -- The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan: I have been on something of a Bob Dylan kick for the last year or so, which is to say that I've been trying to catch up on buying his vast catalogue. I have very little to add to the vast amount written about Dylan in the last four-plus decades. This elbum is among his earliest and captures him at his folk-rock apex that so many wanted to freeze him in before he went electric and all that well-known stuff. A story about this album that may amuse only me (and my friend Mike Stark): I was at Mike's house (his family were practically surrogates for me in college and a few years beyond) and his sister, who must have been eight or nine, had found a vinyl copy of The Freewheelin' . . . and a turntable. She thought the album was ok until a magic moment of discovery -- she played the album at 45 rpm and a new world opened up to her, with Bob Dylan sounding like a poetic Alvin Chipmunk. Grade: A-
Nick Drake -- Made to Love Magic: You know Nick Drake from “Pink Moon,” and you know “Pink Moon” from that Volkswagen commercial from a few years back, and if you say any different the odds are that you are lying. And that’s ok. Advertisers have gotten savvier about using good music, and oftentimes underheard or lost music, in their commercials, to the point where calling someone a sellout for letting their music be used in such a way is an anachronism. These are largely lost and unreleased songs from the late singer-songwriter’s career, which was cut short due to his death from an overdose of antidepressants. As with most such compilations, this one is uneven, but the best cuts show why Drake has become revered in some circles. The worst show why posthumous releases are problematic. Grade: B
Drive-By Truckers -- A Blessing and a Curse: DBT represent modern Southern rock at its best. Although largely guitar-and-drum-driven, it is DBT's lead singer, Patterson Hood, who helps set the band apart and make it a y'allternative/psychobilly stalwart. Patterson has a raspy moan of a voice that augments the intelligence of the lyrics that emerge from it. I first got to know DBT through their concept album, Southern Rock Opera, and have gotten to like them more with each passing listen to work such as this. Think Whiskeytown meets Wilco but different. Grade:A-
2 comments:
My friend James was in a Darkness tribute band, brilliantly named "The Dampness." Now sadly defunct.
Roger --
I'm not certain which aspect I find the most brilliant -- that there was a Darkness tribute band, that it was called "The Dampness," or that it is now defunct. Classic.
dcat
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