Father John Misty at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

"If there's a banter hall of fame, I'm available," Father John Misty (performing name of Josh Tillman, former Fleet Foxes drummer and J. Tillman for his earlier solo work) said at one point during his concert last Wednesday at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I, for one, would vote to induct him. Tillman is quite a talent as a songwriter and vocalist, but I think the biggest thing I'll remember from the concert is that he had the best stage banter I've ever heard. It's the main reason I was inspired to write a review. Tillman said some really hilarious stuff, and I'd like to preserve it for posterity.

The show, part of the Rock Hall's free summer concert series, was unfortunately moved indoors due to the threat of rain, which never materialized. In fact, the weather turned out be perfect for an outdoor concert. (I do wonder how far in advance the decision had to be made. The show started at 7:30, and a look at weather.com at 4 pm showed that there was 0% chance of rain through the time that the concert would be ending.) This move was especially problematic for opening band Night Moves, whose set was a fairly miserable experience for me. Nothing against the band, though; it's just that the museum lobby, full of chattering people and too warm from the sun streaming in through the large glass windows, provided a horrible atmosphere for a concert. Fortunately, during Father John Misty's set the crowd was more attentive, the music volume was louder, and once the sun went down, the general atmosphere of the room improved tremendously.

Tillman and his band played a great set of country-tinged folk rock, including either every or almost every (I wasn't keeping track) song from Fear Fun, the sole Father John Misty album thus far. As I said, though, I mainly wanted to write about Tillman's stage banter. I'm fully aware that a lot of this stuff won't come across as funny in writing. Tillman's acerbic delivery, combined with the often out-of-left-field nature of his remarks, really made it all much funnier in person. But I'll do my best at recounting some of his better lines.

Referring to the pictured signs, Tillman inquired, "Who the fuck is Gwen Moby?" (A good question, I might add.)

There's currently a piano set up outside the entrance of the Rock Hall as part of the Play Me, I'm Yours exhibit. Tillman complained about how many times he had to hear people play "that fucking Adele song" when he was outside smoking.

A large banner with a picture of the Rolling Stones hung from the ceiling off to one side of the lobby. In between acts, a spokesman from the museum made some remarks, including references to event sponsors. Early in his set, Tillman said something about wanting to thank another sponsor, the Rolling Stones, who had been so generous in sponsoring events like this over the years. Later, he gestured toward the banner and said, "Look at them. They're such bros." (I use quotation marks here and throughout although these are, of course, paraphrases.)

Tillman occasionally went off on rambling stories that were, quite frankly, fairly bizarre. He told one story about how the show we were attending was, in fact, the beginning of an exhibit about the career of Father John Misty. The exhibit was to show him working his way up to arena shows, then becoming a heroin addict, then going to rehab, then, twenty years later, releasing a "middling comeback album" which would win a Grammy.

In perhaps my favorite bit, Tillman said he liked to imagine the Rock Hall in a post-apocalyptic setting, 300 years in the future. The building, he imagined, would be the home base of a cannibal tribe. In this post-apocalyptic society, the surviving humans would wonder at the significance of all the trinkets in the museum. The leader of the cannibal tribe would wear Michael Jackson's jacket. And one day, someone would pick up Jimmy Page's guitar, and write a really great song, and this would be the beginning of the rebirth of human culture! Tillman remarked that he should make a movie using this concept - I'd go see it.

What else? At one point, Tillman asked the members of the band what item of theirs they'd like to put in their museum exhibit. (He came across as very cynical about the museum, and about a lot of things, for that matter. I wondered whether he genuinely disliked the museum and its corporate nature, whether he was just a bitter person in general, or whether it was simply his stage persona. I don't know, but it was entertaining as hell.) The first band member said he wouldn't want to give up anything to put it in a museum. Tillman said, "How about your attitude? But I don't think it would fit!" (Oh snap!) He continued by saying that his bandmate's "ability to put up with Josh Tillman" was worthy of being displayed in a museum. The response to the question from the second band member was a cheesecake, and Tillman said, "So now our exhibit is a fucking piece of cheesecake in a glass box."

Near the end of one song, Tillman went to the back of the stage and mocked strumming on the huge faux guitar visible in the background of this picture. After the song ended, he complained to the sound guy that his guitar wasn't turned on (at this point, I don't think most people in the audience got the joke). "You know, the giant guitar that I brought especially for this song," he continued. "That guitar back there. Come on. It's called professionalism!"

It's probably worth mentioning that Tillman commented several times on how drunk he was. There was plenty of professionalism on display in the musical performance, though. Fear Fun is a really solid album, and the music and Tillman's voice shone in the live seting. The end of the main set was stunning. After the band finished album closer "Everyman Needs a Companion" and the applause subsided, Tillman tacked on an additional verse to the song, playing alone on an acoustic guitar. This segued directly into the album's lead single and standout track "Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings," a song with a much heavier rock sound than anything else on the album. The live performance was heavier still, and sounded fantastic - when the bass kicked in, I could feel it, and on top of the flashing lights and crashing guitars, it created a little moment of bliss. The song was a fitting climax for the concert. Incidentally, several times in between songs some people standing near me (one of whom was also fond of loudly exclaiming "Father John!") wondered aloud when Father John Misty would play that one song of his which they knew. When "Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings" started, one of them said, "Oh, this is the one!"

The concert was capped off with an encore, two new songs sandwiching a cover of the Beatles' "Happiness Is a Warm Gun." I had been worried that the move indoors would ruin the evening, and the opening band's set greatly deepened my worries. But it turned out to be a fantastic show. Father John Misty is quite a performer, and I'd highly recommend seeing him live to anyone who has the chance.

The National at the LC Pavilion, 6/15/13

September 19, 2005.  Less than a week ago, I had gone to my first concert at the Beachland Ballroom, a spectacular performance by Sufjan Stevens and his band.  Before then, I hadn't been much of a concertgoer, but now I was eager for more.  A friend, who went to a lot of concerts and who I had run into at the Sufjan show, asked if I wanted to tag along with her and some other people to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah at the Beachland.  CYHSY were the buzz band of the moment, thanks in large part to a glowing review from Pitchfork for their debut album.  I decided that sure, it sounded fun, and I went.  At that night's show, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah were opening for another band, The National (before the concert, I didn't know much, if anything, about either band).

Interesting sidenote about the malleability, and fallibility, of human memory: when searching Google to find the date of the concert, I came across a forum post where someone said, in reference to their "biggest Beachland moment," "I went to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and the opener was The National on what would be their big come up year for Alligator, in 2006. I don't know if they would agree, but it seemed to me they blew up after that. That night, I think they were better than CHYSY."  This is actually the second time that I've come across a reference on the Internet to a past concert that I attended where the person misidentifies which band opened for which (in this case, the year is also off by one, but that's not a big deal). It's really fascinating to me how humans have such a powerful ability to remember things, yet at the same time, can so often hold memories about events in their lives that are at least partly contradictory to the objective history of those events. Okay, so that's my neurobiologist side coming through.  Back to the main point.

That night, the ballroom was pretty packed for Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.  After they finished, some people began to filter out of the room.  The size of the crowd continued to diminish during The National's headlining set. Given the band's career trajectory, I think it's almost certainly true that some of the people who left early are now fans of The National.  I wonder if any of those people remember what they did, and now regret it?  To be fair, I also didn't appreciate the performance to nearly the same level I would now, but I did at least stay through, and enjoy, the headlining set.

The National have come a long way since then.  Last Saturday I saw them perform at the LC Pavilion in Columbus, and the outdoor venue, with a capacity of about 5000, was pretty close to full.  It was actually something of a last minute decision for me to attend the show.  Cara didn't want to go to Columbus that night because she was planning to do a bike race the next morning, so I'd be making the drive, both ways, by myself.  I decided I didn't want to miss the concert.  It was a good decision.

The event, dubbed the "Next at Wex Fest," featured three bands.  Openers Mount Moriah played a nice set of twangy alt-country. I enjoyed it, but didn't find it particularly memorable. The next band, Local Natives, was another one which I'd seen previously at the Beachland.

They played a really good hour long set with a nice mix of songs from their two albums. The band's sound is highlighted by strong vocal harmonies and at times exotic-sounding percussion. I expect they'll continue to grow in popularity.

The outdoor setting worked well for this concert. At about the time Local Natives were concluding their set, the sky was gorgeous, which the band remarked on.

Darkness began to fall as the excited crowd waited for The National to arrive on stage. That crowd would not go disappointed. From the start of "I Should Live In Salt," it was clear the band would be providing a thrilling experience both aurally and visually.  There were several cameras set up on stage, and live footage of the band was mixed with an interesting selection of other images and projected on a giant screen behind the stage.  The colorful display, with the band members in stark contrast in front of it, made for quite a sight.

But of course, the main draw at a concert should be the music, not the light show.  In that regard, The National delivered and then some.  They played a set heavy on songs from their two most recent albums, also throwing in a few songs each from their highly acclaimed earlier releases Alligator and Boxer.  This is a band whose members have clearly honed their craft to reach a great level of musicianship.  Matt Berninger's signature baritone vocals and the rest of the band's accompanying music sounded just about as great as you could hope for a band to sound.  In addition to the five normal band members, I have to give special credit to the trumpet player and trombone player the band brought along on tour.  The powerfully brassy notes emanating from these two added so much to the band's live sound.  On some of the songs, the brass created something of a reinterpretation of the original (The National do include some horn sounds on a few album tracks; by contrast, the haunting strings which appear on some of their songs were absent at this concert), and often the live version sounded even better than the album version.  On "The Geese of Beverly Road," the trumpet took the opening notes which are played by a clarinet on the album.  This song, from Alligator, was simply stunning, definitely one of the highlights for me - the guitar sound created such great atmosphere, and Berninger's vocals were really powerful.  Actually, if I could change anything about the concert, I'd ask for more songs from Alligator, an album I've recently realized, after many years of listening to it, is in fact one of my all time favorites.  But I guess getting three songs from an eight-year-old album isn't bad.

Another highlight was main set closer "Fake Empire," perhaps The National's most popular song and for good reason. I just love the piano intro and the trumpet part that comes in near the end, and it all sounded so great live.

The encore started with "Humiliation," a track from the band's latest album, Trouble Will Find Me.  The band tacked on an intense outro that's absent from the album version, with Berninger screaming the vocals.  (He screams more often live than on album - another example would be on "Squalor Victoria." It's a treat to witness.)  When the opening notes of Alligator's closing song "Mr. November" started up next, the crowd went wild.  I had a feeling this song would be something special - I remembered the last time I had seen the band, at the Beachland in '07, and how Berninger had climbed up onto one of the giant speakers next to the Beachland stage, so I wondered what he'd do this time around.  What happened easily surpassed any expectations I might have had!

The LC Pavilion's audience section is mostly a sloped lawn; in between the lawn and the stage is a fairly sizable pit section.  I was standing at the very back of the pit (I have to say that going to concerts is the main time that I really appreciate being tall).  I could see, after Berninger began singing "Mr. November," that he climbed down from the stage into the the audience.  Still belting out the vocals, he made his way through the crowd, his long microphone cord trailing behind him and being held up by audience members.  Soon, I realized that he was just feet away from me!  After that, he changed directions, went toward the side of the pit, and climbed into a beer stand, still singing.

Matt Berninger's journey through the crowd during "Mr. November."

I was definitely laughing at this point.  It was a giddy, exhilarated sort of laugh.  "Mr. November" had to be the biggest highlight of the evening, but it wasn't the last song.  The band followed it with "Terrible Love," which ended at 11:00, which is apparently the venue's curfew because Berninger announced that they had to stop, and said something about the people in condos nearby.  This was greeted with a chorus of boos.  Thankfully, Berninger, after consulting with the rest of the band, said they could play one more song, and it didn't count because it was quiet.  The band gathered at the front of the stage and performed "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks," with no plugged-in instruments (acoustic guitars and trumpet and trombone were played, and voices were sung, into the mics).  It was a perfect finale.

 This really ended up being one of the best concerts I've seen in a long time.  It was well worth the trip to Columbus, and it's hard to believe in retrospect that I was uncertain about going.  I realized that live music can really be something special, so if there's a concert you want to see, just go for it!  If you don't, you're throwing away the chance for a wonderful experience and memory.

Even if, over the years, that memory may diverge somewhat from what actually occurred.

Lucius and You Won't at the Beachland Tavern

"It doesn't always work that well," Josh Arnoudse, lead singer of indie folk band You Won't, remarked to me as I was chatting with him at the merch table after his band's show on Thursday night at the Beachland Tavern.

We were speaking of the portion of the band's set in which he and Raky Sastri, the other member of the duo, had stepped off of the stage and performed a pair of songs unplugged, on the tavern floor, in the middle of the audience.  Apparently, sometimes when they did this, a noisy audience ruined the experience.  I thought once more of how lucky I was to have such a great place to see concerts.  I've also seen bands like Megafaun and The Rural Alberta Advantage perform songs out on the Beachland floor, and it's always something magical.  You Won't took it to another level by actually bringing a harmonium out to the floor with them.  The first song saw Arnoudse playing the harmonium and Sastri playing the saw; for the second song, Sastri took over harmonium duties while Arnoudse climbed up onto a chair to sing.  And then, partway through the song, he went down to the floor, opened up a bag, and very dramatically (by which I mean, he almost hit a nearby audience member) pulled out a wind chime, of all things.  I'm sure that if a picture of me had been taken at that moment, it would have captured a wide grin on my face.  It's moments like that that make live music such a wonderful thing to experience.

The unplugged section was the top highlight, but You Won't's whole set was great.  I picked up their album Skeptic Goodbye after the show, and I'd highly recommend it (the whole thing is streamable on Bandcamp).  It's a catchy little folk/blues-rock album that, to me, really stands out from the crowd of modern indie folk.  Maybe it has something to do with being performed by just two guys, two guys who are clearly really passionate about their music.  It's an album with an intimate feel, even as there is at times a lot going on (check out the music credits - "Josh Arnoudse: vocals, guitar, piano, bass, mandolin, accordion, FX pedals, stomping feet and clapping hands! Raky Sastri: drums, harmonium, accordion, singing saw, bowed mandolin and mountain dulcimer, modified coffee can, cardboard boxes, washbasin, cellular phone, stolen road sign, stomping feet and clapping hands!").  Arnoudse's lyrics, his somewhat Dylan-esque vocals and the often fuzzy sound lend a nicely nostalgic air to the music.  Their live sound was heavier than the album's, and suited the concert setting well.

Sastri, in particular, was a joy to watch, playing (and switching between on the fly) a large assortment of percussion and keyboard instruments with great deftness and intensity.  Both members of the band brought enormous energy and talent to the show, and by the end of their performance I, having only listened to the band once before going to the show, was completely won over.

It was a great show - but You Won't were just the opening band!  This was a show that I kind of just went to on a whim because I thought the bands sounded interesting and it would probably be a good time.  And I was very right.

Headliners Lucius are starting to attract some buzz.  This is a band that catches your attention before you hear a single note of the five-piece's music.

I'd guess the band is dressing and styling themselves in this distinctive way to try to help them stand out in a crowded music scene.  I can't fault them for it.  Really, it adds to the fun of seeing them perform.  And did I say You Won't brought a lot of energy to their performance?  Lucius easily exceeded the openers' energy level.  On some songs nearly the whole band was engaged in raucous percussion parts.

Lead singers Jess Wolfe and Holly Laessig both have gorgeous voices, especially when they harmonize together, and the drumming, guitar playing, and backing vocals from the three male members of Lucius rounded out the band's sound nicely.  This was really infectious stuff; the audience was clearly eating up every note.  "Turn It Around," which closed out the main part of Lucius's set, is a truly fantastic pop song.

And when I say "the main part" of the set, that's because Lucius, too, stepped out into the audience to perform a couple of songs unplugged.  It's really something that more bands should do when they have the opportunity, which the Beachland often provides.  It brings such a great sense of connection between audience and performers.  One of the two lead singers of Lucius spoke some clearly heartfelt words about what a journey it had been for them, and how grateful they were that we were all there to see them.  I felt equally grateful to be able to see such great performances in such a great setting.

Lucius and You Won't are both bands that I could envision becoming quite popular.  If you have the opportunity to see either live, don't pass it up!

Sufjan Stevens at the Beachland Ballroom, 12/16/12

I'm fairly convinced that Sufjan Stevens is a genius.  I'm also convinced that he's a pretty weird guy, and that he's aware of this.  Last night, after stumbling over some lyrics early on in his new epic 12-minute holiday masterpiece "Christmas Unicorn," he wryly said, "Who wrote these lyrics, anyway?"  Oh yeah, and let's not forget that he was wearing an elaborate unicorn headdress festooned with balloons and feathers at the time.

There's just something about the guy.  I mean, who does these things?  How many indie folk musicians would bedeck themselves with sparkles and balloons and a unicorn horn during a show?  How many indie folk musicians would release 10 discs of Christmas music, one disc for each year, in two 5 disc sets, each packaged with all sorts of extras ranging from stickers to deep, thoughtful essays on the holiday season to temporary tattoos?  How many indie folk musicians would close an album (The Age of Adz) with a 25 minute pop song ("Impossible Soul")?  How many people, period, could even write a 25 minute pop song and make the whole thing absolutely brilliant?  And how many people could get a room full of mostly twenty-and-thirty-something indie music fans to boisterously sing along to a series of traditional Christmas carols?

I certainly had high expectations for Sufjan's concert at the Beachland, where I'd seen him twice previously.  Both were great shows, and I was excited to see him perform his holiday music, which I love.  That's something I never would have thought I'd say as recently as a few years ago.  I can't say that I ever had any particular fondness for Christmas music before I started listening to Sufjan's Songs For Christmas collection.  I fell in love with the first five disc release, both for the beautiful renditions of traditional carols and (especially) for some of the best original songs of Sufjan's career.  This year he came out with the second five disc set.  It's easily even more ambitious than the first, and I'm beginning to feel that it's just as great.  So Cara and I headed over to the venue a half hour before doors opened, hoping we'd be able to get a decent spot near the stage (last time we'd been near the back), and fortunately, the line was not yet too long when we got there.

I knew beforehand that the show was going to be quite a spectacle, but when I walked into the ballroom, my eyes instantly widened at what I saw.  The stage was all decked out in holiday cheer, and that was nice enough, but to the left of the stage...

There was a giant, colorful, game-show-style wheel stretching from floor to ceiling with the names of different Christmas carols festively decorating it.  One might have guessed that this wheel would be spun during the show to select the songs that would be used for the sing-a-long portion of the night, and one would have been right.  This was all tremendous fun.  There were even hymn booklets handed out at the entrance to ensure that everyone could sing along.  Here's the cover (make note of the instructions printed on it):

Perhaps ten or twelve carols were performed sing-along style, with Sufjan, his band and the audience all celebrating the holidays together.  This was divided into two segments of the main set, the rest of which was a stunning display of musicianship easily up to the standards of any "normal" Sufjan Stevens performance.  I'm truly amazed at the diversity of his catalog, from his early acoustically focused songs to his more electronic and experimental recent stuff.  His Christmas music covers the same range.  Sufjan's music can at times be catchy, rousing, or majestic, but at its best, I'd usually describe it as "heartachingly beautiful."  A prime example would be "For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti," a fan favorite from the Michigan album featuring Sufjan's amazing voice and banjo playing which was inserted as a brief, non-Christmas interlude in the middle of the main set.  Several of his holiday songs are just as chills-inducing.  My favorite is probably "Sister Winter," which was an absolute thrill to see performed live.  I also loved "Justice Delivers Its Death," a new song in which Sufjan seems to ponder the strange contradiction of a holiday meant to celebrate Christ's birth that is celebrated with rampant consumption and consumerism.

There were several short hymns which Sufjan and his band performed a cappella, filling the ballroom with angelic harmonies.  And at other points in the show, there were bubble and confetti machines, and inflatable Santas and unicorns and enormous bouncing balls thrown into the crowd.

And then there was Sufjan, dressed as the Christmas Unicorn, climbing up onto a speaker directly above where Cara and I were standing, during an astonishingly good song that goes from gentle, playful verses to an increasingly majestic chorus before transitioning into an irresistibly danceable cover of Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart."  It was truly a magical moment, and one that only Sufjan could pull off.  "Christmas Unicorn" closed out the main set perfectly.  After several minutes of unrelenting applause from an enraptured audience, Sufjan returned to the stage sans holiday attire for a perfect encore that filled me with nostalgia for more than one reason.

You see, the first concert I ever attended at the Beachland was Sufjan Stevens on September 13, 2005.  (I know the exact date because we have a poster from the show hanging in our apartment.  I didn't actually buy the poster at the show, but found it at a local shop years later.)  Not only was it my first concert at the Beachland, it was at that point in my life that going to concerts became a "thing" that I did.  In a sense, it was the beginning of a new era in my life.  At that show seven years ago, Sufjan was touring his breakthrough Illinois album, and last night's encore was quite Illinois-heavy, including "John Wayne Gacy, Jr.," another one of those heartachingly beautiful songs on which Sufjan's voice and lyrics do things that no one else's can.  As I stood there, I couldn't help but think of being in the same room, hearing the same music more than seven years ago, and of all the ways my life had changed since then.  In a way, it was like things had come full circle.

After playing "Come On! Feel the Illinoise!" Sufjan said he thought they had time for one more song.  I was silently hoping for one song in particular, and when he laid down the opening notes of "Chicago" on piano I was overjoyed.  "Chicago," after all, was the song Cara and I used for the recessional of our wedding, and now we were standing together, perhaps ten feet away from Sufjan Stevens himself, seeing the song performed live.  (Amazingly, earlier this year we also got to see a live performance of our wedding's first dance song, Bowerbirds' "Northern Lights.")  Talk about a perfect way to end the night!

During the show, some of the stage banter included joking about how the world was supposedly going to end in a few days.  And I thought to myself, if the world were going to end, this was a good concert to go out on!

I'm the Christmas Unicorn.  You're the Christmas Unicorn too.

Springsteen on the mind

The Amazon MP3 store recently had Bruce Springsteen's Born in the U.S.A. among its sale albums.  I like Springsteen's music, but had very little of it in my collection (only Born to Run from a previous Amazon sale), so, given that Born in the U.S.A. is considered another classic album, I decided to grab it.

When I listened to it, something happened that I consider pretty remarkable.

Some background information is in order.  When I was a kid, my dad listened to a lot of Springsteen.  A lot.  Picture several CD towers full of Springsteen albums and concert bootlegs.  Apparently, I was into The Boss as a small child.  I've been told that I liked (as I called it) "Bruce music."  Somewhere around middle school, in what was undoubtedly typical preteen contrarianism, I decided that I didn't really care for Springsteen anymore.  As I matured through high school and college, my opinion swung back toward appreciation, but I didn't go out of my way to listen to much Springsteen.  When I pressed play on my iPod after downloading Born in the U.S.A., it had been many, many years since I last heard the album.

Before that first listen, if you had named any tune from the album besides the title track and asked me to hum it, I'm fairly certain that I would have been at a complete loss.  I had little to no conscious memory of any of the other songs.  Yet upon hearing the album, everything was instantly so familiar.  It was like I had never stopped listening to it over all those years.  I also found that I loved the album.  After a few listens, I'm tempted to consider it one of my favorite albums ever, something that would almost never happen so quickly with a new album.  But to my conscious mind, a few weeks ago, there was essentially no difference between Born in the U.S.A. and an entirely new album.

Think about that.  In my brain, there were neural circuits associated with the music of this album, and they had lain dormant for years upon years.  But there were powerful connections there, because a single listen to the album reactivated them so quickly and so strongly.  The same thing had not happened with Born to Run.  With that album, I knew the very famous title track well, but other than that, only a few bits and pieces rekindled vague memories; there was none of that intense feeling of familiarity.  And this makes a lot of sense - Born to Run was released almost eight years before I was born.  Born in the U.S.A. came out just before my first birthday, and considering my dad's fandom, it's quite possible that it's the album I was exposed to more than any other during my early childhood.  And early childhood is, of course, when the most rapid brain development occurs, when neural plasticity is at its highest.  I suspect that those dormant neural circuits I spoke of were already being formed when I was too young to have any conscious memories - much like how we begin to learn language before we are even a year old.

It makes sense, but it still blows me away.  Just the fact that there are parts of our brains storing specific pieces of music, and we can go years without accessing them, but they're still right there, waiting to be pulled up to conscious thought.  The human brain really is an amazing thing - I wouldn't hesitate to call it the most amazing thing in the known universe.  I'm also blown away by the power music can have over us.  Why did we evolve to be so affected by certain arrangements of sounds?

It's not surprising, really, that the me of today likes this album so much.  Some of my favorite music artists, like Arcade Fire and Pearl Jam, were strongly influenced by Springsteen.  And now, I can appreciate the lyrics in a way that would have been impossible for a child.  But at the same time, I have to guess that nostalgia plays an important role.  At times, when I'm listening to Born in the U.S.A., it seems like I can hear my dad singing along.  It's something I wouldn't have anticipated, and it's rather remarkable.

It's all so fascinating for me to think about, and I just had to get those thoughts out.  So there's my extremely nerdy exploration of the experience of hearing a great album for the first time in many years!

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros - Here

It's a nice feeling when great music takes you completely by surprise.  I remember well the first time I saw Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros perform live, at the Spot at Case Western Reserve University.  I knew little about the band before the show.  Here was this big group of hippie-looking people with all sorts of instruments playing big, uplifting, utterly irresistible songs that sounded like they came out of the '60s or '70s.  I was enthralled with their performance, and bought their debut album Up From Below without hesitation.  It ended up being my favorite album of 2009.  The highlight of the album, "Home," a duet with the Magnetic Zeros' frontman Alex Ebert trading off vocals with Jade Castrinos, is one of the happiest love songs I've ever heard, and probably one of my favorite songs ever.  The song helped propel the group to a decent amount of fame, and anyone who watches the NFL regularly probably heard it in the league's commercials.

In some sense, it felt to me like the band had caught lightning in a bottle with Up From Below, so although I was looking forward to the followup Here, I had my doubts that it would live up to its predecessor.  Now, having given a lot of listens to Here, I'm happy to report that those doubts were unnecessary.

I'll admit that the first time I listened to Here, a part of me was waiting for some of the big, rousing numbers that made up much of Up From Below's runtime.  Such a song never really came.  And that's why I consider Here so surprising: after the breakthrough success of their first album, they came out with a followup that is so different in sound, but at the same time, so excellent.  Indeed, the more I listen to Here (which is not an album that should be judged after one or two listens, especially if you're comparing it to its predecessor), the more I'm tempted to say it's just as good as Up From Below.

The album does retain the retro feel of its predecessor, but it's a much more mellow and more intimate affair.  I'm sure some people will be looking for another "Home."  I'd say "Home" was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and it was a wise choice not to try to copy their earlier success.  At the same time, the second track on Here, "That's What's Up," is (in a sense) a sequel to "Home," not in overall sound but in content.  It's another Alex/Jade duet, and whereas "Home" described the experience of falling in love, "That's What's Up" includes lyrics like, "Forever, hey hey love/We been best friends forever darlin, that's what's up!"  It's another very happy song, and I can't help but smile when I listen to it.  Castrinos' powerful vocals are a delight, and she takes lead vocals on "Fiya Wata," another highlight.  Ebert is an excellent vocalist himself, reminiscent of John Lennon at times.

Many songs on Here, such as "I Don't Wanna Pray," sound like they could be a group of friends singing around a campfire.  The album just emanates such great vibes.  Other standout tracks include opener "Man on Fire" and "Mayla," the centerpiece of the album, which takes great advantage of the band's large size as different instruments provide layered textures in a wonderfully chill-sounding song.  Here was self-produced, and I'm really impressed with the overall sound of the album.  I'm no audiophile, so this may not be the best description, but I'm sure some people have heard of the Loudness War, and may have noticed that albums released more than, say, 15 or 20 years ago tend to be less loud than more recent albums.  This is not a good quality of modern music, as the increased loudness means more compression,  less dynamic range, and at times loss of sound quality.  I noticed that when I play Here on my stereo I have to turn the volume up higher, like I would for an album from 30 or 40 years ago.  I feel like this adds to the old-timey nature of the Magnetic Zeros' sound.  The music has more room to breathe, and just has a nice, warm feeling to it.

The world, I think, could use more unabashedly happy folk music.  Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros have now released a second outstanding album of such music, and the gospel-folk of Here makes a wonderful companion piece to the folk-rock of Up From Below.  I very much hope that I will get to see these songs performed live!

Favorite music of 2011

With the new year here, I guess if I want to post a list of my favorite albums from 2011, I had better get to it! It was a strong year for music, from my point of view. I got to listen to a lot of really good albums; some were releases I'd been anticipating and many others were artists I discovered. There were also some great concerts. Godspeed You! Black Emperor in Chicago and The Decemberists at Nautica stand out as two of the most memorable shows I've ever attended. The former was simply one of the most epic experiences of my life, two-and-a-half mind blowing and eardrum rattling hours of post-rock mastery. The latter was an all around great set punctuated by the single most memorable song performance I've witnessed, as a huge cargo ship passed behind the riverside stage in perfect timing with "The Mariner's Revenge Song."

In this post, I decided to list my ten favorite albums of the year. I make no claim that these are the ten best albums of the year; these are strictly my opinions. I listened to about three dozen new albums this year (and at least as many albums from previous years that were new to me). There's undoubtedly lots of great stuff out there that I haven't heard, but this was a good number for me. I like being able to devote extra attention to the stuff I really like, rather than trying to listen to as many different albums as possible.

I'd like to mention When You Left the Fire by The Wilderness of Manitoba, which I reviewed here. It was released in 2011 in the U.S., and would rank pretty highly on my list, but was actually released in 2010 in Canada.

And now, to the countdown.

10. Beirut - The Rip Tide









"Postcards From Italy" off of Beirut's first album, Gulag Orkestar, is one of my favorite songs ever. The words and music together create an amazing mood of nostalgia and of being transported to another time and place. And oh, those horns! Although The Flying Club Cup was pretty good, nothing off of Beirut's sophomore LP really came close, and I found it somewhat disappointing. The Rip Tide, in contrast, has several tracks that evoke similar feelings to "Postcards From Italy," and coming from me, that's saying a lot. Key tracks: "A Candle's Fire," "Santa Fe," "The Rip Tide."

9. My Morning Jacket - Circuital









Here's another band whose previous LP disappointed me, and in this case, a lot of other people as well. Circuital is a nice return to form, just some great roots rock that adds nicely to what the band did on albums like It Still Moves and Z. Key tracks: "Victory Dance," "Circuital," "Holdin on to Black Metal."

8. The Rural Alberta Advantage -Departing









I reviewed this album from the Canadian indie rock trio after it was released. It picks up right where their first album, Hometowns, left off - "Departing is ten more tracks of the RAA's signature sound - Nils Edenloff's Jeff Mangum-esque vocals over purposefully strummed acoustic guitar and propulsive keyboard and percussion." Although I'd like to see them change up their sound a little more in the future, they certainly haven't worn out their welcome yet; there's some great stuff here. Of special note, Paul Banwatt's drumming is killer, not something you often hear in modern indie rock. Key tracks: "Stamp," "Tornado '87," "Good Night."

7. Odessa Chen - Archives of the Natural World









Odessa Chen is a little known, San Francisco-based artist who I discovered several years ago and whose gorgeously moody music characterized by stirring cello, arpeggiated electric guitar lines, and Chen's strong voice I fell in love with. This is her third album; it was funded by a Kickstarter project which I gladly donated to because I enjoyed her previous albums so much. The title of the album refers to Chen's desire to record the stories of the numerous forms of wildlife that are being driven to extinction by human activity. This serves as an overarching theme for the album, which, musically, is fairly similar to her previous work, with a bit more of a rock side. The appropriately nautical-sounding "Oh, Atlantis!" is a real standout. Key tracks: "Deer Perspectives," "Oh, Atlantis!", "The Mercy of Sound," "Cinders."

6. Bon Iver - Bon Iver, Bon Iver









This album ranked highly on a lot of people's year-end lists, and I can see why. I was really surprised by the dramatic evolution in sound here, and I personally like this album quite a bit more than the also quite good For Emma, Forever Ago. Key tracks: "Perth," "Holocene," "Calgary."

5. Motopony -Motopony








This is another album that I already reviewed. I guess it's appropriate that it ends up adjacent to Bon Iver on my list, because I wrote, "In a certain sense, I'd compare this album to Bon Iver's latest. I wouldn't say that Motopony sounds just like Bon Iver (maybe a little) but there is a similarity in that, at its heart, this is a guy with a guitar playing folk music, but then it pulls in all sorts of eclectic instrumentation and stylistic influences and becomes a wonderfully diverse (yet cohesive) collection of songs." There are several songs on this album that are just beautiful. Key tracks: "God Damn Girl," "Wait For Me," "Wake Up."

4. Various Artists - National Parks Project









Here's an album that seems to have flown under just about everyone's radar, and that's a shame. To celebrate the 100th anniversary of Canada's national parks, the National Parks Project was created, a film and accompanying soundtrack album with contributions from a whopping 39 musicians. As a big fan of Canada's indie music scene, it's not surprising that I've found much to enjoy in this album, with contributing artists including some of my favorites (Mark Hamilton of Woodpigeon and Casey Mecija of Ohbijou) and a whole host of others, such as Kathleen Edwards and Besnard Lakes' Jace Lasek and Olga Goreas. What did surprise me was how well it actually works as an album. There's a tremendous variety of sounds, but it all flows together pretty well, and I can imagine the songs here would go well with the scenes one might encounter in national parks - much of the music tends toward the pastoral or the atmospheric in sound. With twenty tracks, It's a pretty long album, but it's well worth listening to the whole thing. Key tracks: "Welcome to the Dark," "Sunblood," "Mystic Morning," "Wapusk," "Kathleen Lake."

3. Moving Mountains - Waves









After two albums of epic post-rock music with emo vocals, Moving Mountains decided to change things up, leaning more toward the post-hardcore side of their sound with an album of songs that are generally heavier and more to the point. Although I do miss their more drawn out post-rock numbers, this album still has the essence of what makes Moving Mountains' music great, with soaring melodies, heavy riffs, and plenty of emotional intensity. If you are into the sort of music that comprises the rest of my list, there's a chance this won't be your cup of tea, but sometimes it's nice to just rock out. Actually, this is the one album on my list that I'd describe as great workout music. Key tracks: "Where Two Bodies Lie," "Furnace Woods," "Full Circle."

1. Okkervil River - I Am Very Far and Ohbijou - Metal Meets (tie)









Two albums stood well ahead of the pack for me, and when it came down to it, I couldn't decide which one was my favorite. (I previously reviewed both.) Okkervil River is my favorite band, so I was expecting to love I Am Very Far, and it didn't disappoint. The band definitely pushed their sound to new places, with a variety of instrumentation making this their biggest sounding album. At times raucous, at times gorgeous, and with more of Will Sheff's reliably brilliant lyrics, it's another outstanding addition to the Okkervil catalog. That another band released an album I ended up loving just as much is a testament to how much Ohbijou has grown as a band. They, too, really explored new places with their sound, adding synths and heavier guitars to help create lush dreamscapes, with the string section and Casey Mecija's angelic vocals reminding the listener that this is still the Ohbijou we know and love from their previous releases. Yet this is definitely their most confident-sounding, and in my mind best, album so far. Key tracks: "We Need a Myth," "Show Yourself," "Wake and Be Fine," "The Rise" (I Am Very Far), "Niagara," "Balikbayan," "Anser," "Scalpel Blade" (Metal Meets).