#HOWEVER i didn’t think i listened to phoebe bridgers enough for her to make it to my top artists compared to some other bands and artists | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raereview · 3 years

Text

A Writer in Her Early Twenties Writing About Smoking Cigarettes and Feeling Inferior? …Groundbreaking

an essay I wrote in November of 2020 as I was nearing graduation from Columbia College-Chicago

You know when a bug gets stuck on its back and its little legs start flailing and it frantically rocks back and forth trying to flip back over? That’s how I’ve been feeling recently.

I started smoking cigarettes again to calm me down because smoking weed always makes me have an unwanted existential crisis. In high school, I loved smoking cigarettes because it made me feel like an adult. I dreamed of being someone like Carrie Bradshaw; smoking cigarettes at parties and being so terribly interesting that I only had to write one column a week to pay for a lavish lifestyle. That dream was only amplified when an English teacher wrote on one of my assignments in red ink that she wanted to read my memoir one day. After that, I smoked cigarettes my friends would steal from their stepdads, while I waited impatiently to turn 18 so I could be an adult, leave my hometown, and become a real writer.

Now I’m 21 and can legally buy cigarettes in the city of Chicago. I bought a pack of American Spirits two days after the 2020 Presidential Election because my anxiety was getting high and I couldn’t. I tell myself they are better than regular cigarettes— even though it clearly says on the package they aren’t. Just holding a cigarette is sex to me (I never describe things as sex, but my first Creative Writing professor used to, and she sounded so fucking cool when she did). I always feel dizzy after the first couple hits. I can’t imagine that’s normal. I know that weed is probably better for my body, but I like that no one judges me for not inhaling correctly like they do with weed. I can let the smoke barely touch my lungs before I puff it out of my lips, and no one says a goddamn thing. And so maybe it’s just the action of smoking, but I always feel calmer by the time I put out the cigarette, leaving behind that black mark and bits of ash.

On the 13th of November, Phoebe Bridgers and Maggie Rogers released a cover of “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls because Bridgers tweeted that she would do so if Biden won the election. I didn’t recognize the song based off the title, but after a quick google search, I remembered hearing it on the radio growing up. It’s got one of those choruses that feels like it was written to be screamed at the top of your lungs in the car with the windows rolled down. I paid $1.50 for the song on Bandcamp (the proceeds went to Fair Fight), then I grabbed my pack of cigarettes, and went out to my back porch to listen to it. I’d barely been able to get out of bed all week, but I knew the cover needed my full attention because I recently became a “stan” of Phoebe Bridgers.

For a while I felt as if Phoebe was someone I knew through a friend of a friend; we ran in the same circles, but never really crossed paths. I adore Hayley Williams and Phoebe’s vocals were on my favorite song on her new album, most of the music I listen to is indie and makes you want to cry which is how you could describe her music, and her lowercase tweets always showed up on my timeline. I knew I’d become acquainted with her eventually, I just wanted to be ready; I had a premonition she’d change my life. I wanted us to fall into each other at the perfect moment.

Sometime in late June or early July, I was laying on the futon in my sister’s spare bedroom, staring at my phone in the darkness while everyone was asleep. The quiet nights of West Texas creep me out when I’ve gone months in Chicago without a moment of silence. I don’t remember what I was initially looking for on Spotify when her solo, sophomore album Punisher came up on the “recommended” section. I hit play because it felt like Spotify was a friend trying to set me up with her for the millionth time, telling me to just trust them and to meet her. It felt like the perfect moment, spilling our guts under the covers, “What if I told you I feel like I know you, but we never met?”

By “Moon Song” and “Chinese Satellite” I was silently weeping, trying not to wake up my nephews in the next room. Punisher made me feel introspective and existential, and the record almost gave me the same floating, panic feeling that weed gives me (but it’s cool when she does it). The strings from “Graceland Too” and “Savior Complex” swam inside my bloodstream and lifted me off the futon, off the part of Texas that I suspect she writes about hating. I was 16 when I had my first weed-induced existential crisis. My friends drove me around town in an attempt calm me down and I kept asking them if I was dead; Punisher feels like the soundtrack to that car ride. Receiving an impressive 8.7/10 on Pitchfork, the publication’s Sam Sodomsky describes her songwriting on the album as “candid, multi-dimensional, slyly psychedelic, and full of heart.” There are moments as a writer where a line makes me mad because of how well it described something I have yet to put words to, and Bridgers made me furious when she sang on the final track “I Know the End”: “When I get back I’ll lay around Then I’ll get up and lay back down Romanticize a quiet life There’s no place like my room.” It’s so simple, but it perfectly described the way I can get so anxious that I spend most of my days in bed, convincing myself I’ll never not feel this way.

That’s at least how I’d describe my recent state of constant anxiety. I know it started before the election, but constantly checking news sites seemed to amplify everything. I think the thing I have been most anxious about (personally, not politically) is the fact that I’m moving back home to my hometown after I graduate next month. I finally became an adult, but I will be graduating with my Bachelor of Arts degree in Creative Writing, and I have no job prospects and no memoir in the making. I try to remain optimistic, but the catastrophic thinking my brain does is very convincing and tells me that if I can’t find a job in my field that I’m a bad writer, and if I’m a bad writer I’ll never be understood, and if I’ll never be understood I should just quit writing now, and if I quit writing then I should just lay in bed and not go to my zoom classes. It’s a long series of pointless, self-deprecating “and if’s”, but once they start it feels like telling yourself that you’re only going to smoke a couple cigarettes, and then you end up going through a whole pack in a few days and all you’re left with is regret and a headache. So, during that week of bed-ridden anxiety, I was thankful that my new love for Bridgers was stronger than my imposter syndrome. If I was doomed to be misunderstood, I wanted to listen to a writer who I feel like I understand.

When I went outside to listen the song, I quickly remembered that it was November in Chicago and my fingers shoved themselves deeper into my jacket sleeves. I managed to peak them out just enough to light a cigarette and hit play on the song. I was sure I looked very dramatic to the men doing construction on the apartment next door: a girl in her 20’s, smoking with her headphones in, staring off into the distance. The cover initially sounds more stripped and melancholic than the original, just Bridgers light vocals and an acoustic guitar. My legs were already shivering, but all the hairs on my body stood up higher when Rogers came in and their voices molded together. I don’t know her music, but the twang in Maggie’s voice that carries the second verse was comforting to my southern roots. I took a long drag when she sang “When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you're alive.” If I didn’t know better, I would have thought this cover was the original.

“Iris” is a song I’ve always known all the words to, but I had never really listened to the lyrics. The song was written by Goo Goo Doll’s John Rzeznik for the movie City of Angels (1998) staring Nicholas Cage. Rzeznik told Dan MacIntosh of Songfacts that when he wrote the song he was inspired by Cage’s situation in the film and thought “Wow! What an amazing thing it must be like to love someone so much that you give up everything to be with them.” Phoebe Bridgers’ songwriting feels like it comes from the same universe as “Iris”, specifically her song “ICU”. Both songs could technically be described as love songs, but I feel that a disservice to both.

They differ from traditional love songs because write about it in a realistic way, almost as if the thesis of both is “I know everything is awful and we could hate each other one day, but I want to be with you anyways.” A line from the chorus of “Iris” almost says this exactly, but far more eloquently, “When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am,” and then verses repeat this sentiment of knowing the love could end, but wanting the love anyways. Bridgers’ songwriting in “ICU” comes at a relationship with the same approach. The verses describe things she thinks could complicate or end the relationship (the other person’s family, someone falling out of love, self-sabotage). Regardless, the refrain keeps repeating, “But I feel something when I see you”. All this to say that when Bridgers sings Rzeznik’s lyrics, they feel as if they are her own.

The Goo Goo Dolls must have also thought Phoebe would do the song justice as their twitter account replied to Bridger’s original tweet a few days after Biden was announced the projected winner, saying “We’re waiting…” with the gif of Judge Judy motioning “hurry up”. When I read or hear really good writing, I selfishly question if writing is even actually what I’m meant to be doing… if it was something that should have stayed a hobby, or a poorly constructed daydream of becoming Carrie Bradshaw.

Recently, I wrote a paragraph about one of my favorite albums with the intention of writing a whole essay about it. However, after that I got stuck. Every time I tried starting the next sentence, I hit the backspace button until it was gone. I spent two whole days watching interviews with the artist, reading reviews of the album, listening to the whole record on repeat for hours, and I couldn’t get anything more than that paragraph. The words simply would not come to me. Moments like that, combined with rejection emails from literary magazines or hearing Bridgers sing lines that take my breath away, I wonder if I should keep fueling my love for something that will always love someone else more or if I should quit?

I listened to the cover of “Iris” on repeat until my cigarette was out. The big tree in my backyard is barren because of the new season, and so now more of my neighborhood is visible. It was around 4p.m. and the sun was already starting to set thanks to daylight savings (until I wrote that sentence, I didn’t think to consider my anxiousness and my need to stay in bed all day could also be attributed to seasonal depression). I’ve always been obsessed with sunrises and sunsets. I know I probably write about them too much: how they make the whole world “glow” orange, the transitions of the colors in the sky, how they always represent an end or a beginning. My hometown has the best sunsets and sunrises: the land is so flat you can see all the way to the horizon, there are no clunky buildings blocking your view. I thought maybe this sunset would spark inspiration in me, so turned to go toward the edge of my porch to see more of it, and for a second I looked at the windowsill I rested my lighter and cigarettes on.

Lying there was a fly stuck on its back. Before they fixed the insolation, our apartment was infested with so many flies that all summer the surfaces of my home were perpetually covered in fly guts. The fly’s little body twitched frantically as it tried to push itself over. I felt pity for the fly even though others of its kind spent the warmer months buzzing in my ear and making me want to move. As I watched the insect, I realized that my anxiety doesn’t feel like drowning or spiraling or falling. It feels like flailing— like a bug stuck on its back trying desperately to get right side up again. It’s kind of pathetic how much it feels like the end of the world. I might not be the first person to think of that, but the metaphor came to me so clearly that it took my breath away. Quickly, I used my lighter to flick the fly back onto its legs. We stared at each other for a moment. I know flies don’t have facial expressions, but I swear, it looked confused. I thought maybe it heard horror stories about me from its friends about the sweaty girl who kills them with rolled up newspaper and wondered why I helped it. Finally, it turned from me and crawled away in the opposite direction.

That fly made me like a god, but more importantly, it made me feel like a writer. I found the words again. Relating to an insect isn’t exactly Carrie Bradshaw or Phoebe Bridgers, but I was excited. I immediately ran inside and started this essay. My frozen fingers started to warm up as I typed everything out. It felt like writing and I were a married couple who had sex for the first time in months; we got our spark back. And I know writers aren’t supposed to wait for inspiration to start writing, and I know this doesn’t make me as good as Phoebe Bridgers, and I know I still don’t have any job offers, and I know I didn’t cure my anxiety but writing this felt really good.

When I wrote this essay, someone I showed it to said they “got my angst”, but not my love for writing. Maybe that’s because I don’t always love writing in the explosive, epic way I sometimes think I should? I love writing with the kind of love that I’m told is in good marriages; the love is a choice. There are days when I can’t stand a word I put on the page, but there are also the days where I find perfect metaphors for sunsets or anxiety or bugs or Phoebe Bridgers. There are days I lay in the warmth of someone else’s words as if they were the sun. There are days where I can’t stand go to class after turning an essay in because I don’t want people to associate the person on the page with the person sitting across the room from of them. However, even on days when I can’t stand writing or being a writer, I still wake up, put on my fake glasses that make me feel like an intellectual, I grab my New Yorker tote, I write silly lyrics I think of on the train, I read someone else’s work and remind myself they had 20 drafts of this I’ll never see, I reread my own work and see if any lines make me catch my breath, and I write.

I write because I still have the desire to be understood. I write to try and understand why I can’t stop loving it even when I hate it. I write because I fear one day the inferiority will be too much and I won’t wake up and choose to still love writing.

I still listen to Iris on repeat because the lyrics are as painfully relatable as they are catchy. At its core, the song is asking someone to understand. I think that’s what all I want, understanding. I want to know that someone else feels the same way I do about sunsets, or Carrie Bradshaw, or Punisher, or smoking cigarettes to look cool. If I write my truth, maybe someone will understand? Alexander Chee wrote in his How to Write an Autobiographical Novel that “To write is to sell a ticket to escape, not from the truth, but into it.” Maybe that’s why I don’t love being high because I feel like I am trying to escape the truth? Maybe that’s why I love Phoebe Bridgers’ songwriting and writing in general because it makes me feel like I am trying to escape into the truth? Maybe if I can make it to the truth, I’ll be understood?

Maybe I’ll understand?

Sources: Bridgers, Phoebe. Lyrics to “Punisher.” Genius, 2020, genius.com/albums/Phoebe-bridgers/Punisher. Sodomsky, Sam. “Phoebe Bridgers: Punisher.” Pitchfork, Pitchfork, 22 June 2020, pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/phoebe-bridgers-punisher/. Rzeznik, John. “Goo Goo Dolls – Iris.” Genius, 7 Apr. 1998, genius.com/Goo-goo-dolls-iris-lyrics. MacIntosh, Dan. “John Rzeznik of Goo Goo Dolls.” ShieldSquare Captcha, 12 June 2013, www.songfacts.com/blog/interviews/john-rzeznik-of-goo-goo-dolls. Chee, Alexander. How to Write an Autobiographical Novel. Bloomsbury, 2019.

#personal essay #writing #phoebe bridgers #iris #writer #goo goo dolls #nonfiction #music #music writing

3 notes · View notes

fullregalia · 3 years

Text

20/20.

This year, in hindsight, was a real write-off. I had grand plans for it, and while I ushered it in in a very low-key manner since I was recovering from the flu, I’d expected things to look up. Well, you know what they say about plans (RIP, my trip to Europe). I got very, very sick in early February, and I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t COVID. Since March, the days have been a carousel of monotony: coffee, run, work, cook, yoga, existential spiral, sleep. My Own Private Year of Rest and Relaxation, if you will. Of course, life has a way of breaking through regardless; I attended protests, completed my thesis, graduated from grad school, took a couple of road trips upstate, and celebrated the accomplishments and birthdays of friends and family from a safe social distance. It was all a bit of a blur, and not ideal circumstances to re-enter the real world, or whatever this COVID-present is.

Throughout it all, in lieu of happy hours, coffee dates, and panel discussions, I’ve turned even more to culture and cuisine to fill the the negative space on my calendar where my social life once resided. However, since a global pandemic ought not to disrupt every tradition, here’s my year-end round up of what made this terrible one slightly more tolerable.

After an ascetic fall semester abstaining from TV in 2019 (save for my beloved Succession), I allowed myself to watch more as the year wore on, and especially after graduation. I caught up on some cultural blind spots by finally getting around to The Sopranos, Ramy, Search Party, and Girlfriends. I wasn’t alone in bingeing Sopranos, it absolutely lived up to the hype and then some; this Jersey Girl can’t get enough gabagool-adjacent content, pizzeria culture is my culture!

Speaking of my culture, there was also a disproportionate amount of UK and European shows in my queue. Nothing like being in social isolation and watching the horny Irish teens in Normal People brood. I’m partial to it because I share a surname with the showrunner, so I have to embrace blind loyalty even though there was, in my opinion, a Marianne problem in the casting. Speaking of charming Irish characters with limited emotional vocabularies, I belatedly discovered This Way Up a 2019 show from Aisling Bea and Sharon Horgan. And while Connell and Marianne are actually exceptional students, I found the real normal people on GBBO to bring me a bit more joy. Baking was abundantly therapeutic for me this year, and watching charming people drink loads of tea and fret over soggy bottoms was a comfort. I also discovered the Great Pottery Throw Down, and as a lifelong ceramics enthusiast, I cannot recommend it highly enough if you care about things like slips, coils, and glazing techniques. GPTD embraces wabi sabi in a way that GBBO eschews flaws in favor of perfection, and in a time of uncertainty, the former reminded me why I miss getting my hands in the mud as a coping mechanism (hence all the baking). Speaking of coping mechanisms, like everybody else with two eyes and an HBO password, I loved Michaela Cole’s I May Destroy You; though we’ve all had enough distress this year for a lifetime, watching Cole’s Arabella process her assault and search for meaning, justice, and closure was a compelling portrait of grief and purpose in the aftermath of trauma. Arabella’s creative and patient friends Kwame and Terry steal the show throughout, as they deal with their own setbacks and emotional turmoil. Where I May Destroy You provides catharsis, Ted Lasso presents British eccentricity in all its stereotypical glory. At first I was skeptical of the show’s hype on Twitter, but once I gave in it charmed me, if only for Roy Kent’s emotional trajectory and extolling the restorative powers of shortbread. For a more accurate depiction of life in London, Steve McQueen’s series Small Axe provides a visually lush and politically clear-eyed depiction of the lives of British West Indians in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. Lastly, how could I get through a recap of my year in tv if I don’t mention The Crown. Normal People may have needed an intimacy coordinator, but the number of Barbours at Balmoral was the real phonographic content for me.

Turning my attention across the Channel, after the trainwreck that was Emily in Paris, I started watching a proper French show, Call My Agent! It’s truly delightful, and unlike the binge-worthy format of "ambient shows” I have been really relishing taking an hour each week to watch CMA, subtitles, cigarettes, and all.

Honorable mention: The Last Dance for its in-depth look at many notable former Chicago residents; High Fidelity for reminding me of the years in college when my brother and I would drive around listening to Beta Band; and Big Mouth.

Music

My Spotify wrapped this year was a bit odd. I don‘t think “Chromatica II into 911″ is technically a song, so it revealed other things about my listening habits this year, which turned out to remain very much stuck in the last, sonically. I listened to a lot more podcasts than new music this year, but there were some records that found their way into heavy rotation. While I listened to a lot of classics both old and new to write my thesis (Paul Simon, Leonard Cohen, Prokofiev, and Bach) the soundtrack to my coursework, runs, walks, and editing was more contemporary. Standouts include:

Saint Cloud by Waxahatchee, which makes me feel like I’m breathing fresh air even when I’m stuck inside all day

La Bella Vita by Niia, which was there for me when I walked past my ex on 7th avenue (twice!) and he pretended that I didn’t exist

Fetch the Bolt Cutters by THEE Fiona Apple, because Fiona, our social distancing queen, has always been my Talmud, her songs shimmering, evolving, and living with me every year

Shore by Fleet Foxes, for the long drive to the Catskills

Women in Music, Pt. III by HAIM, because these days, these days...

Musicians have been reckoning with tumult this year as much as the rest of us, and the industry has dealt with loss on all fronts. I’d be remiss not to talk about how the passing of John Prine brought his music into my life, and McCoy Tyner, who has been a companion through good and bad over the years.

Honorable mention to: græ by Moses Sumney; The Main Thing by Real Estate; on the tender spot of every calloused moment by Ambrose Akinmusire; Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers; folklore by you know who; and songs by Adrianne Lenker.

Reading

What would this overlong blob be without a list of the best things I read this year? While I left publishing temporarily, books, the news, and newsletters still took up a majority of my attention (duh and/or doomscrolling by any other name). I can’t be comprehensive, and frankly, there are already great roundups of the best longform this year out there, so this is mostly books and praising random writers.

Last year I wrote about peak newsletter. Apparently, my prediction was a bit premature as this year saw an even bigger Substack Boom. But two new newsletters in particular have delighted me: Aminatou Sow’s Crème de la Crème and Hunter Harris’ Hung Up (her ”this one line” series is true force of chaotic good on Blue Ivy’s internet). Relatedly, Sow and Ann Friedman’s Big Friendship was gifted to me by a dear friend and another bff and I are going to read it in tandem next week.

On the “Barack Obama published a 700+ page memoir, crippling the printing industry’s supply chains” front, grad school severely hamstrung my ability to read for pleasure, but I managed to get through almost 30 books this year, some old (Master and Margarita), most new-ish (Say Nothing, Nickel Boys). Four 2020 books in particular enthralled me:

Uncanny Valley: Anna Wiener’s memoir has been buzzed about since n+1 published her essay of the same name in 2016. Her ability to see, clear-eyed, the industry for both its foibles and allure captured that era when the excess and solipsism of the Valley seemed more of a cultural quirk than the harbinger of societal schism.

Transcendent Kingdom: Yaa Gyasi’s novel about faith, family, loss, and--naturally--grad school was deeply empathetic, relatable, and moving. I think this was my favorite book of the year. Following the life of a Ghanaian family that settles in Alabama, it captured the kind of emotional ennui that comes from having one foot in the belief of childhood and one foot in the bewilderment that comes from losing faith in the aftermath of tragedy.

Vanishing Half: Similarly to Transcendent Kingdom, Brit Bennett’s novel about siblings who are separated; it’s also about the ways that colorism can be internalized and the ways chosen family can (and cannot) replace your real kin. It was a compassionate story that captured the pain of abuse and abandonment in two pages in a way that Hanya Yanagihara couldn’t do in 720.

Dessert Person: Ok, so this is a cookbook, but it’s a good read, and the recipes are approachable and delicious. After all the BA Test Kitchen chaos this summer, it’s nice we didn’t have to cancel Claire. Make the thrice baked rye cookies!!!! You will thank me later.

Honorable mention goes to: Leave The World Behind for hitting the Severance/Station Eleven dystopian apocalypse novel sweet spot; Exciting Times for reminding me why I liked Sally Rooney; and Summer by Ali Smith, which wasn’t the strongest of the seasonal quartet, but was a series I enjoyed for two years.

Podcasts

I’m saving my most enthusiastic section for last: ever since 2018, I’ve been listening to an embarrassing amount of podcasts. Moving into a studio apartment will do that to you, as will grad school, add a pandemic to that equation and there’s a lot of time to fill with what has sort of become white noise to me (or, in one case, nice white parents noise). In addition to the shows that I’ve written about before (Still Processing, Popcast, Who? Weekly, and Why is This Happening?), these are the shows I started listening to this year that fueled my parasocial fire:

You’re Wrong About: If you like history, hate patriarchy, and are a millennial, you’ll love Sarah Marshall and Michael Hobbes’ deep dives into the most notable stories of the past few decades (think Enron and Princess Diana) and also some other cultural flashpoints that briefly but memorably shaped the national discourse (think Terri Schiavo, Elian González, and the Duke Lacrosse rape case).

Home Cooking: This mini series started (and ended) during the pandemic. As someone who stress baked her way through the past nine months, Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway’s show is filled with warmth, banter, and useful advice. Home Cooking has been a reassuring companion in the kitchen, and even though it will be a time capsule once we’re all vaccinated and close talking again, it’s still worth a listen for tips and inspiration while we’re hunkered down for the time being.

How Long Gone: I don’t really know how to explain this other than saying that media twitter broke my brain and enjoying Chris Black and Jason Stewart’s ridiculous banter is the price I pay for it.

Blank Check: Blank Check is like the GBBO of podcasts--Griffin Newman and David Sims’ enthusiasm for and encyclopedic knowledge of film, combined with their hilarious guests and inevitable cultural tangents is always a welcome distraction. Exploring a different film from a director’s oeuvre each week over the course of months, the podcast delves into careers and creative decisions with the passion of completists who want to honor the filmmaking process even when the finished products end up falling short. The Nancy Meyers and Norah Ephron series were favorites because I’d seen most of the movies, but I also have been enjoying the Robert Zemeckis episodes they’re doing right now. The possibility of Soderbergh comes up often (The Big Picture just did a nice episode about/with him), and I’d love to hear them talk about his movies or Spike Lee (or, obviously, Martin Scorsese).

Odds & Ends

If you’re still reading this, you’re a real one, so let’s get into the fun stuff. This was a horrible way to start a new decade, but at least we ended our long national nightmare. We got an excellent dumb twitter meme. I obviously made banana bread, got into home made nut butters, and baked an obscene amount of granola as I try to manifest a future where I own a Subaru Outback. Amanda Mull answered every question I had about Why [Insert Quarantine Trend] Happens. My brother started an organization that is working to eliminate food insecurity in LA. Discovering the Down Dog app allowed me to stay moderately sane, despite busting both of my knees in separate stupid falls on the criminally messed up sidewalks and streets of Philadelphia. I can’t stop burning these candles. Jim Carrey confused us all. We have a Jewish Second Gentleman! Grub Street Diets continued to spark joy. Dolly Parton remains America’s Sweetheart (and possible vaccine savior). And, last, but certainly not least: no one still knows how to pronounce X Æ A-12 Boucher-Musk.

3 notes · View notes

somethinggoodmusic · 5 years

Text

I could write volumes about how 2018 fucking sucked, but at least the soundtrack was great.

Before moving on to my top 25 albums of the year, bear in mind that I consume albums in an archaic fashion: I pay for them (often beautiful vinyl versions); listen to them all the way through, in sequence, over and over and over again; and completely fall in love with them. These are the records that had my back during a dreadful year.

#25

Love in the Time of E-Mail by Antarctigo Vespucci Polyvinyl Records

#24

Freedom’s Goblin by Ty Segall Drag City

#23

Hope Downs by Rolling Blackouts Coastal FeverSub Pop

#22

Somewhat Literate by Retirement PartyCounter Intuitive Records

#21

Feelin’ Freaky by Falcon Jane Darling Recordings

#20

Plays With Fire by Cloud Audio Antihero

#19

Uncle, Duke & The Chief by Born Ruffians Paper Bag Records

#18

The Diet by Cullen OmoriSub Pop

#17

ocala wick by gobbinjrTopshelf Records

#16

Kill the Lights by Tony Molina Slumberland Records

#15

Francis Trouble by Albert Hammond, Jr. Red Bull Records

#14

Numbskull by The Band Ice Cream Urban Scandal Records

#13

Forth Wanderers by Forth Wanderers Sub Pop

#12

POWER by Des Millions Independently-released

#11

Twin Fantasy by Car Seat Headrest Matador Records

#10

boygenius by Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus Matador Records

I have no hesitation putting this EP ahead of so many great full-length albums released in 2018. Look past its six-song tracklist and you’ll see this debut offering from indie super-group boygenius — comprising Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus — has more creative energy than almost anything else on this list.

And how could it not? Baker, Bridgers and Dacus are all indie superstars in their early-20s, all entering the height of their powers after releasing career-making solo records in 2017 and 2018. And those six songs? They’re not just throwaway tracks — they’re some of the best songs any of them have ever written. But more impressively to me, they’re not simply Baker, Bridgers or Dacus solo tracks with three-part harmonies jammed in — the trio put tremendous care in crafting something completely original and beautiful.

For more on boygenius, read my post (and listen to the playlist) from a few weeks back.

Clean by Soccer Mommy Fat Possum Records

Nashville-based songstress Sophie Allison delivered an indie rock classic on her new LP Clean, defying critics of her preceding record Collection. In fact, this might have been a motivating factor: at a recent Soccer Mommy show at D.C.’s Black Cat, Allison noted her (somewhat feigned) surprise when a reference to Collection drew a healthy cheer from the sold-out crowd.

For context, Collection marks Soccer Mommy’s transition from DIY bedroom pop project to full-fledged indie rock band, and set the mold for an amazing follow-up. On Clean, Allison’s singing and songwriting are bolder, the sound is more robust, her full band is on-point — and — now the future looks very bright.

Where We Were Together by Say Sue Me Damnably

I play Korean guitar pop band Say Sue Me’s debut LP a lot. It’s meticulously crafted, expertly performed and infectiously-fun — until the final track, when everything the quartet built comes tumbling down in a brilliant and emotional album-closer, “Coming to the End,” which is punctuated by a jaw-dropping extended guitar solo.

Like, I can’t hype up this solo enough — it emotes in the same way as the saxophone in “Jungleland” and or the slide guitar in “Layla’s” coda. It’s simultaneously thrilling and gut-wrenching as you hinge on the solo’s every twist and turn, set against pounding drums and crashing cymbals. It’s my favorite musical moment of 2018.

Lush by Snail Mail Matador Records

Before hearing Snail Mail AKA Lindsey Jordan’s debut LP Lush, I scoffed somewhat at Pitchfork Senior Editor Ryan Dombal’s assertion that the record “encompasses the once and future sound of indie rock.” Not that I wasn’t already impressed with Snail Mail’s preceding, self-recorded EPs — made before the Maryland native turned 18 — but that’s a BIG statement for anyone.

After hearing the album, though, I was like “Yep! Good call!”

“Pristine” is one of the record’s best tracks, but it’s also a fine description for Lush itself — every sound is polished and precise, but never manufactured; while Jordan’s songwriting already rivals the best in the game. And I’m not going to do that “for her age” bullshit — Jordan is a tremendous talent that’s touring her ass off, headlining shows around the world. We’re past that.

Fall Into the Sun by Swearin’ Merge Records

One of the most pleasant surprises of 2018 was the reformation of Swearin’ — which disintegrated in 2015 after the break-up of the band’s two creative forces, Allison Crutchfield and Kyle Gilbride. The Philly-based outfit initially pledged to forge on following the split, but that obviously proved difficult in the short term.

Fast-forward a few things and seemingly things are okay, both on- and off-stage. Musically, Swearin’ has never sounded better: Fall Into the Sun recalls the frantic guitar rock of the band’s 2012 and 2013 LPs, but there’s a new maturity in the sound, as well as an optimal balance between Crutchfield and Gilbride’s contributions.

Tell Me How You Really Feel by Courtney Barnett Milk! Records

Courtney Barnett had a tough act to follow preparing the sequel to her magnificent, Obama playlist-residing, superstar-making first LP: 2015’s Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit. And she succeeded — however the intense pressure to meet astronomical expectations, which Barnett refers to on the record, seemingly took its toll.

Tell Me How You Really Feel is dark. It’s the album where Barnett stops being whimsical and starts getting real. No more missed connections at the YMCA pool — on the first three singles alone we find our hero battling misogynist shitheads online and in real life (“Nameless, Faceless”), calling for an emotional break (“Need A Little Time,”) and trying to cope with isolation/loneliness (“City Looks Pretty”).

Historian by Lucy Dacus Matador Records

Remember Lucy Dacus from #10 on this list? Well, she released an even better album on her own earlier in 2018. Historian, the (fellow) Virginia native’s second record, is a star-making solo effort on which Dacus called all the shots.

Between this and boygenius, Dacus used 2018 to cement her status as one of the indie rock’s greatest talents. An artist wise beyond her years, Dacus is the only singer-songwriter I’ve ever felt comfortable comparing to Joni Mitchell — which is among the highest praise I can think of for any artist.

POST- by Jeff Rosenstock Polyvinyl Records

Jeff Rosenstock set the bar high and early, releasing his stellar solo debut on New Year’s Day and never looking back. That I’m still listening to the former Bomb the Music Industry! frontman’s album in mid-December is a feat in and of itself, but POST- earns #3 on this list due to Rosenstock’s unbridled exuberance, anthemic scream-alongs and dinosauric riffs. Fuck, even the song’s ballad (SOTY candidate “9/10”) has energy coursing through its wall of sound.

Slow Buzz by Remember Sports Father/Daughter Records

If it weren’t a complete cop-out, the debut LP from Philly pop-punk band Remember Sports would be #1B on this list. I can’t really find a flaw across its 12 perfectly-sequenced tracks — each and every one of which has a place and purpose (as well as killer riffs and rapturous drumming). Guitarist and singer Carmen Perry’s brutal and brilliant lyricism is Slow Buzz’s secret weapon as she brilliantly lays bare the emotional toll of falling in and out of love.

LONER by Caroline Rose New West Records

Not everyone struggles on their second album. Some, like the wildly-creative Caroline Rose, use it as an opportunity to completely reinvent themselves artistically. Rose released her folksy, roots rock-inspired debut I Will Not Be Afraid in 2014 but ultimately wasn’t satisfied with it — any anything. She described the situation (and more) to Pitch Perfect PR:

“I was 24, lonely, and realizing life might actually be as hard as people said it was. Gandalf had yet to raise his staff and part the seas for me,” she says with a straight face. “I felt a bit disillusioned with my music; it didn’t sound like my personality. I hadn’t dated in years, I was going to lose health care. I felt detached from the modern world.”

So what did she do about it? “I joined Tinder. I turned 25 and rented my first real apartment and painted it bright colors. I started socializing more and little by little, weeded out all my clothes that weren’t red. I embraced my queerdom. I had a girlfriend, we traveled the country, we broke up. I discussed politics, capitalism and Rihanna. For better or worse, I became a member of the modern world. Turns out the modern world is terrifying.”

Rose got more personal and aggressive in her musical approach and tried to be more sonically diverse with her new work. She also injected humor into the mix — leading directly to essential LONER tracks like “Bikini” and “Money,” but also giving her music a lighthearted, fun spirit as she creates vivid scenes and characters. Folksy, roots rock turned into decadent indie pop heavy on guitars, keys and synths. So yeah, she found her sound. And it’s unlike anything we’ve ever heard before — that’s why she gave it a name: “schizo drift.”

LONER is my favorite album of 2018. Rose recently posted on social that she’s beginning work on the follow-up — let’s hope it’s [adjusts tie] more of the same.

Hate reading? Follow the “Songs of SOMETHINGGOOD” playlist on Spotify and you never have to come back — but I’d appreciate it if you did.

https://open.spotify.com/user/somethinggoodmusic/playlist/1XgOCb4C0QVky14Qdj9mxL?si=UIsabN7NRD20Vdsi3lYEew

SOMETHINGGOOD's Albums of the Year 2018 -- feat. records from @newwestrecords @father_daughter @Polyvinyl @matadorrecords @milk_records @mergerecords @FatPossum @subpop @DarlingRecords @audioantihero @CIRecs @topshelfrecords & more! I could write volumes about how 2018 fucking sucked, but at least the soundtrack was great.

0 notes

gojasonsummers-blog · 6 years

Text

Look what I did!

I didn’t listen to every album that came out this year. Nor did I listen to all the good ones. Hell, I didn’t even listen to Reputation all the way through (don’t worry, I still have opinions). That being said these are my top five albums of the year.

5. Minimum R&B- The Dirty Nil

Of all but one of the songs on Minimum R&B have been released before. Outside of the song “Caroline” the record covers B-sides and EPs the band released since their inception. As I write it feels cheap to include what is essentially a “compilation record” on a year-end list- yet here I am. While I listened to a collection of other albums that are objectively better than this one through the year, none were able to draw me back in the same way.

While disjointed and inconsistent this album follows a young band discovering their own sound. Within the eleven tracks sits an almost anthemic mayhem that sounds as though it could fall apart at any moment. A certain sense of auditory nostalgia that makes me want to smoke cigarettes or punch someone. I’ve done neither, but you know.

Favourite Track: Cinnamon

4. Stranger in the Alps- Phoebe Bridgers

Stranger in the Alps is an album stuck between pop and folk. While she’s far from the first to bring the two genres together (Connor Oberst even finds himself on the track “Would You Rather”) she does so in a way refreshing to my ear. Her falsettos and layered vocals paint something that keep me wanting more.

The lyrics presented are an intimate look at the quick rise and dirty fall of relationships and how we internally deal with the struggle of such. Themes that stuck with me due to how I was introduced to the album. But I digress. Bridgers is a genuine song writer that, at times, almost brings you too close. Sometimes she turns a phrase that leaves you feeling in a discussion with an old friend. Sometimes she turns a phrase that reminds you of the time you overshared on a first date. Either way both speak to me.

Favourite Track: Funeral

3. Pure Comedy- Father John Misty

I don’t think I’m smart enough to fully understand what this record is about, but shit I want to be. An unsurprising theme of my list are dark, honest lyrics. It’s an aspect of music I care deeply about and that happens to get me mopin’ every time. Another theme I love is that of theatricality, something Father John Misty delivers in spades. The man is an entertainer who delivers nothing but his best on Pure Comedy. He sings of capitalism, low iron count and, yes, sleeping with Taylor Swift with the aid of VR (all problematic).

The arrangements of piano, horns and strings swell and subside over the seventy four minute cynical, theatrical spewings of J. Tillman. While absurd the record kept me entertained for its entirety. It exhibits a charming side to an intelligent man who seems to know just how intelligent he is. Either way, it’s a bouncy lullaby to the pessimistic and I couldn’t be happier.

Favourite Track: Pure Comedy

2. Turn Out the Lights- Julien Baker

For me listening to this album is a religious experience. With each run through my soul leaves lighter. That being said, the album is far from light. It exists in a sense of confused darkness- an almost guilt knowing Baker should feel better, but doesn’t. In my own life I fall into these frustrating thinking patterns time and time again. To a sense where a reserved moodiness is more of a baseline state. To be able to listen to a record and feel this space occupied by more than myself is nothing more than therapy.

Structurally many songs don’t stray far from Julien’s Brand New style of quietquietquietEMOTION. However no one is better at it. Look no further than the title track “Turn Out the Lights”. There are songs that begin to stretch her style such as the closer “Claws in Your Back” which point to an even more exciting future for the Memphis based singer songwriter. In closing, thank you Julien.

Favourite Track: (Objectively) Sour Breath. (Quantified by how many times I’ve cried to it) Happy to Be Here

1. A Crow Looked at Me- Mount Eerie

While this is my favourite album of the year, I’ve yet to listen to it front to back in one sitting. Its contents directly challenge the passive nature in which I prefer to consume music, and for that I am grateful. On July 9th, 2016 Geneviève Castrée died. On January 5th, 2017 her husband Phil Elverum announced he would “re-enter the world”. On January 6th he played his first show in almost three years, including a song from his upcoming album that ended with the lines “It’s dumb/ And I don’t want to learn anything from this/ I love you”.

Flash forward to March 24th of the same year and you have the release of A Crow Looked at Me. This is quite possibly the most intimate piece of art I have ever taken in. The album is barely music. There are few choruses, rarely a song structure, sometimes an accompanying instrument. Instead of poetic lyrics the album is diary pages from a broken person. It isn’t a lesson, or a crescendo towards a final blow. Instead the album is so real it’s hard not to equate every line to a metaphor to death. But there are no metaphors or concepts here. As Everum states “Conceptual emptiness was cool to talk about, back before I knew my way around these hospitals”.

Favourite Track: Real Death

0 notes

crescendo-kuci · 6 years

Text

Top Albums of 2017

It’s that time of year again! In a year of reinventions, triumphant returns, tragedy, and necessary accountability for musicians of all levels, these albums affected me and stayed with me through one of the most tumultuous times of music in recent memory. I will not mention the artists by name, but up until news of their personal lives surfaced, two different albums would have been in my top 5 (one of them even claiming the top spot). I don’t mind not having them here though, as it is more of an insult to the victims if I included the bands in this list than an insult to the bands if I don’t include them in this list. Fair enough?

Lets start with some albums that I enjoyed this year but just missed cracking my top 10 (in alphabetical order):

Chon - Homey Electronic/hip hop/R&B combined with the trademark Chon math/prog rock made for a great follow up to the mostly same-sounding (but still incredible) Grow.

Dryjacket - For Posterity “Epi Pen Pals” is one of the best songs from this year, and I don’t believe Dryjacket is getting nearly as much attention as they deserve.

Japandroids - Near to the Wild Heart of Life Although it’s their worst LP to date, there are a few classic Japandroids jams (the title track and “No Known Drink or Drug”) and the epic “Arc of Bar” that still made this a great indie rock album.

Jay Som - Everybody Works If this textured, full, tonally exceptional album is the typical result of the recording process happening completely in a bedroom, all albums from here on out should be recorded in a bedroom. Also, “Baybee” is a jam.

Julien Baker - Turn Out the Lights My number 11 album of the year. Julien’s voice reaches beauty and power that it didn’t reach on Sprained Ankle, and the added instrumentation doesn’t hurt either. Get the tissues ready, you’re gonna need ‘em.

Looming - Seed Jessica Knight continues to have the most overlooked/underrated/underappreciated voice in independent music, and I’ll never forgive any of you for making that true (unless you listen to this album and their 2015 banger Nailbiter). Educate yourself!

North End - Alpha State I tweeted in January that this was the first great album of the year, and it stayed with me all the way to the end. If you’re looking for a dynamic instrumental rock album to carry you through work or studying, look no further.

Oso Oso - The Yunahon Mixtape As a big fan of their album Real Stories of True People, Who Kind of Looked Like Monsters, I was so pleased when I saw them surprise drop this album. What I originally thought would be a lesser album due to the nature of its release turned out to be an incredible step forward. It’s slightly more muted than their previous effort, but with more earworms spread throughout the track listing. Do not skip this album.

Tigers Jaw - Spin Having an overall shine that wasn’t present on their previous efforts, Brianna and Ben (along with producer Will Yip) have created a great showcase for the scene’s first steps into the middle ground between independent and major labels. “Guardian” was constantly on repeat for me, and “Escape Plan” might downright be my favorite Tigers Jaw song to date.

Turnover - Good Nature So we can all agree that Peripheral Vision is an absolute scene classic, right? Well, the band also agreed, so they didn’t change their sound or approach all that much for this album. But hey, don’t fix it if it’s not broken.

The Top 10

10. Sorority Noise - You’re Not As ______ As You Think

Watch: “No Halo”

Singing about deeply personal struggles with both a vulnerable whisper and a frustrated yell is nothing new for Cam Boucher, but this album instrumentally captures the tone of his words to a degree I haven’t heard in their past efforts. If you’re not yet acclimated with Sorority Noise, get listening.

9. Phoebe Bridgers - Stranger in the Alps

Watch: “Motion Sickness”

Although I was an admittedly late passenger on the hype train for this album, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since I listened. “Motion Sickness” is the stand out of the album, but Phoebe’s voice stays engaging and beautiful from start to finish. Even John Mayer himself has given Phoebe some strong praise, not that you’ll need any more motivation to check out the album once you hear her voice for the first time.

8. Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds From Another Planet

Watch: “Road Head”

On the first listen of “Machinist” I wasn’t too keen on the direction Japanese Breakfast was going with Soft Sounds From Another Planet, but once the full album released I was all in. Where “Machinist” was 100% about spacey, technological sounds that captured the lyrics (I’ve come around on the song and love it in the context of the album), the rest of the album uses those effects to a tasteful and effective degree. There are even a couple of stripped down songs at the end of the track listing just to keep listeners on their toes. On top of all of that, the bass groove in “Road Head” is just so damn good.

7. Prawn - Run

Listen: “Greyhound”

All of you monsters slept on my favorite album of 2014, Kingfisher, when it came out, so I’m not going to let you do it to Prawn again. They’re consistently writing energetic, beautiful songs that have far outpaced the rest of their peers. “Greyhound” in particular was a song I had on repeat all year, but Run has top to bottom jams. Don’t miss out on them this time around.

6. Vasudeva - No Clearance

Listen: “Take Away”

My favorite instrumental album of the year goes to none other than Vasudeva. No Clearance does what very few instrumental albums can do for me, and that’s be completely entertaining and engaging from start to finish. The band has included a ton of moody, textured, and even electronic passages that give their trademark upbeat and lighthearted grooves an incredible sound. Although “Take Away” may not be the best example of this (I’d give that to “6&5″), it’s a perfect song for newcomers to Vasudeva to get acclimated with the band.

5. Hodera - First Things First

Listen: “Out of Sync”

Back when Hodera premiered this song on their Audiotree Live Session, I was immediately sold on their follow up to United By Birdcalls. What I was surprised to hear on the album, however, was how much they embraced their country influences. I’m by no means a country fan, but Hodera embraces the genre with just enough rock instrumentation to keep me enjoying the album. Matthew Smith even seems more comfortable in letting his conversational singing style lead the tracks, which is fine by me. Hodera is one of those bands that should’ve caught on with listeners of bands like Pinegrove, so here’s your chance to catch up if you’ve missed them.

4. Less Art - Strangled Light

Listen: “Pessimism as Denial”

Ah, “supergroups.” You gotta love ‘em. Consisting of members of Thrice, Kowloon Walled City and Curl Up and Die, I knew I would probably like Less Art’s debut album before I even heard it. When I listened and heard that it was exactly the middle ground between those three bands that I was hoping for, I ecstatically listened to it repeatedly. This is right at the max in terms of heavy rock that I can still enjoy, with tight drumming and tonally perfect bass and guitar instrumentation throughout. Can’t wait for all of these guys to unite and melt my face again with those sweet, juicy tones.

3. Manchester Orchestra - Black Mile to the Surface

Watch: “The Gold”

I listened to “The Gold” about thirty times the night it premiered. And then I put it on repeat when I went to bed and woke up to its beauty. So, yeah, I guess you could say I was pumped for a new Manchester Orchestra album. While “The Gold” is the standout track, there’s a beautiful and haunting vibe that engrosses the rest of the album. These songs are uniquely united in a way that hasn’t been seen on their previous efforts, and it makes for an immensely enjoyable complete album listen. Despite the closer “The Silence” being nearly seven minutes long, you’ll want to experience Black Mile to the Surface all the way to its chilling end. In terms of their discography, I’d place Black Mile to the Surface second just behind Mean Everything to Nothing, and I’m of the firm belief that Simple Math is a near perfect record.

2. Pet Symmetry - Vision

Listen: “Hall Monitor”

If I were to make a top songs of 2017 list, I would have to include “Hall Monitor,” “You & Me & Mt. Hood,” “Stare Collection,” and “Lint Roller” in the top 10. It was honestly incredibly difficult to pick which song to link with this post. Off of that alone I decided to place this album so high on this list, but even the songs on the album I don’t consider my favorites this year are stellar. When I listen to this album all the way through, the only song I skip is “Eyesores” because it’s just a short burst of distorted vocals and guitars, but that’s it. Every other song is a genuine joy to listen to, and I really can’t ask much more from a band that barely even takes themselves seriously. Get listening.

1. The Menzingers - After the Party

Watch: “After the Party”

I’ll admit, I hadn’t heard a single song by The Menzingers until they released “Lookers” last year. I know, blasphemy. I proceeded to do my homework and check out their older material in preparation for this album release, which usually results in either negatively comparing newer material to older material or getting burned out on the band’s sound. With After the Party though, neither of those ever happened. I still get just as pumped now when a track from the album comes up on shuffle as I did when it first released. Whether that song is the title track, “Tellin’ Lies,” “Lookers,” “Your Wild Years” or “Bad Catholics,” I’m always happy to let it play. That’s not to say that a full album listen isn’t warranted though - the slower tracks are perfect in their sequencing and tone to offset the loud punk tracks. If you need any further proof that this is my favorite album/band of the year, they were my top played band on Spotify and claimed three of my five most played tracks. 2017 for me was the year of The Menzingers.

How do your picks compare to mine? Anything you think I might have missed? Let me know on Twitter @CrescendoKUCI and I’d be more than happy to reply! Thanks for reading this post, and I hope you’ve found some great new music to enjoy.

#aoty #2017 #music #rock #punk #indie #the menzingers #manchester orchestra #pet symmetry #less art #hodera

0 notes

joementa · 7 years

Text

Week Of October 23, 2017.

The latest album by Alex Cameron, Forced Witness, is absolutely incredible. I don’t see a situation where this does not end up in my top 10 list for 2017. I have been listening to it non-stop since I first listened to it on 10/26 (8 times over 3 days, and 6 times on 10/27 alone – I know because I counted). The album is an absolute masterpiece. Every single song on the album is catchy, with impossibly infectious melodies. The lyrics are borderline ridiculous and very funny. You can hear a TON of classic influences in the music – pop, synth pop, classic rock, dark indie pop, Bruce, The Killers, New Order, among others. Anyone influenced by ONE of these things is bound to make solid music. Combine so many of those together and you get a classic album like Forced Witness. And there are some guest appearances that will knock your socks off, particularly Angel Olsen on “Stranger’s Kiss.” No lie, I thought it was Gaga singing when I first heard it (this is a complement). Do yourself a favor and run to your local record store and buy Forced Witness by Alex Cameron IMMEDIATELY. You will not regret it.

One of my favorite bands ever is a band called The Gaslight Anthem. To say that they changed and saved my life would be a complete understatement. They’ve been on a hiatus for the past 2+ years, but thankfully their main songwriter, Brian Fallon, is still making music. This past week he announced his second solo album, Sleepwalkers, due out on February 9. The first single is “Forget Me Not” and I think it’s AWESOME. I absolutely love it. The lyrics are very relatable, and it’s easy to sing along to. If you’re familiar with any of Brian Fallon’s work (which you should be), then I think you’ll probably like this song.

Margo Price is one of my favorite singers right now, and she’s also an incredible songwriting. Her voice absolutely soars. Here’s an interesting article about her that was in the NY Times a couple of weeks ago: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/12/arts/music/margo-price-all-american-made.html. Her new album, All American Made, is out now on Third Man Records, and is definitely a no-brainer in terms of albums that you should listen to. Like her previous album, the fantastic Midwest Farmer’s Daughter, it was recorded in Memphis. However, All American Made was recorded at Sam Phillips Recording Studio, whereas Midwest Farmer’s Daughter was recorded at Sun. Neither of the albums suffer from the different studios, and I think it’s really cool that she’s recorded her albums in Memphis. It’s a great city with a TON of musical history. It’s my favorite musical town in Tennessee, and I’ve been to a few of them.

Speaking of Margo Price, you should be on the lookout for her album Live At The Hamilton. Although it was technically only available to members of Third Man Records’ vault club (of which I am not a member), you can find it online and a reasonable price (of which I did). I love the album, and I think you will too. Obviously, Margo Price has a one of a kind voice. You can hear it on her albums. The live recording is no exception. Plus, Live At The Hamilton was recorded in DC on November 9, 2016, the day after a significant event occurred in America. The recording really captures the mood at the show. You can hear it and you can feel it. But it’s also therapeutic.

I give props to those that were in attendance and to those that were performing for Live At The Hamilton. I was supposed to see her in Philly the next night (November 10), but was not feeling up for it. I had tickets but chose not to go. It didn’t seem right to be at a show. I also canceled the show I was supposed to go to on November 9 in Philly (Drive-By Truckers) for the same reason. I had tickets but chose not to go. Sometimes things happen that not even music can help you with. For me, those things are very rare, but unfortunately do happen on occasion.

Anyways – bottom line. Make sure you track down Live At The Hamilton. You are smart enough to be able to find one online. And of course you will need her new album, All American Made.

A few other things you should probably now:

DMB has been on a year-long hiatus from touring. That’s bad news, as they are undoubtedly one of the best live bands ever. However, there are a TON of live shows that have been professionally recorded and are readily available. That number will increase by one with their annual holiday release, from the Gorge 2016. This actually was their last show before their hiatus, and the setlist is pretty solid, including “The Idea Of You” (an extremely underrated song), “The Stone” opener, Joe Lawlor guesting on “Rhyme & Reason” (this guy ALWAYS tears it up on guitar!), and my favorite DMB song, “Lie In Our Graves”. And to top it all off, the show takes place at the Gorge, absolutely one of (if not THE) best live venues.

A bunch of Tom Waits albums are going to be reissued on vinyl. How many? Try his ENTIRE catalog on ANTI-, all of which were remastered by him and his wife. None of these albums are bad and all of them should be owned by you: Mule Variations, Glitter & Doom, Blood Money, Alice, Real Gone, and Bad As Me. Real Gone is also going to be released in a remixed version. I read online that the box sex Orphans: Brawlers, Bawlers & Bastards will be reissued next year. If that’s true, that is amazing news, because it’s nearly impossible to find right now (unless you want to spend $430 dollars on Discogs Ha!). With the exception of Orphans, which doesn’t have an official release date, all of the ANTI- albums will be released in November and December this year. That’s great timing, because Tom Waits makes great music for the cold weather.

The Killers are reissuing a few albums on vinyl later this year, including the tough to find (and underrated) Day & Age, as well as Direct Hits, Sam’s Town, and Saw Dust.

Here is a list of some of the music I’ve been listening to the past week. Format: musician – album title, or musician – “song title” (album title).

Alex Cameron – Forced Witness

Brian Fallon – “Forget Me Not” (Sleepwalkers)

Iron & Wine – Beast Epic

Phoebe Bridgers – Stranger In The Alps

Matthew Ryan – Hustle Up Starlings

Margo Price – All American Made

Kamasi Washington – Harmony Of Difference EP

The National – Sleep Well Beast

The Killers – Wonderful Wonderful

St. Vincent – Masseduction

DRA – Prisoner

Jade Jackson – Gilded

Conor Oberst - Salutations

Haim – Something To Tell You

The Pretenders – Viva El Amor

Gordi – Clever Disguise EP

Black Sabbath – Paranoid

Misfits – Legacy Of Brutality

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – From Her To Eternity

The Cure – Seventeen Seconds

Angelo Badalamenti – Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me soundtrack

Neil Young – Silver & Gold

Neil Young – On The Beach

Bruce Springsteen – Magic

Margo Price – Live At The Hamilton

The Gaslight Anthem – American Slang

The Gaslight Anthem – The B-Sides

The Gaslight Anthem – “Desire (acoustic)” b/w “Halloween”

Brian Fallon – Painkillers

I hope all of you have a great Halloween. I recently put together a playlist for Halloween and I think it is really solid. I put in a lot of time making sure the songs flowed in the right order. That’s really important to me. Here is a link to the playlist on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/joementa/playlist/41z2zrMaRe0Yp3howyjfvU?si=F8kAlBgI. You can read some of the notes about it right here: http://joementa.tumblr.com/post/166842162133/happy-halloween-2017. Remember to listen to plenty of Misfits and Danzig this week! Have a great Halloween!

0 notes