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Jackson Browne
The Pretender
Jackson Browne
from The Pretender
November, 1976

Anecdote: This song makes me cry. It’s the only song that makes me cry. It’s painful for me to listen to, but it makes me feel more alive and more sober than any other song I own. Seeing Jackson Browne perform this song live was like staring at who I’ll be in thirty years, and it put a feeling in my stomach that hasn’t gone away. Looking around at the crowd, the complacent baby boomers, & knowing that this was the generation that hoped & loved, & seeing that they all turned out to be pretenders… I guess we all turn out that way. And maybe I’m not ready to give up just yet, but I’m certainly aware of what’s forthcoming. I don’t know what that means for me yet. I don’t know how that affects all of my ideals, knowing that there really isn’t hope & that we’ve all got to compromise eventually. So I just listen to this song over & over hoping to figure it all out.

Background: Jackson Browne’s first five records offer a very poignant record of a generation coming down from Woodstock. Through the years we trace the idealism of the late 60’s to the despair of the early 70’s to the resignation of the mid 70’s. The Pretender is his statement of resignation. Produced by Jon Landau (fresh off of working on Bruce Springsteen’s break-through Born To Run), the record had a pop sheen that underscored his lyrical concessions to consumerism. The title track closes the record with a sarcastic but painfully telling call to pray for the Pretender, “who started out so young and strong only to surrender.” He paints a picture of suburban life; a 9 to 5 day job, children and ice cream trucks, Pretenders reminiscing about the fight for love that yielded none of the changes they expected it to. “I’m gonna be a happy idiot and struggle for the legal tender where the ads take aim and lay their claim to the heart and the soul of the spender. And believe in whatever may lie in those things that money can buy… Thought true love could have been a contender.” Critically, the concession was considered a step down from his previous albums, but it clearly resonated with the public, marking his entrance into the mainstream.

Cary Ann Hearst & Michael Trent
Hollowpoint
Cary Ann Hearst/Michael Trent
from Shovels & Rope
October, 2008

Anecdote: This is my music. Not that I had a hand in it, it’s just the shit that I loooove.I really can’t say much except that it’s my favorite. It’s what music should sound like. It’s like the music that you knew was being played somewhere but you didn’t think that it was ever recorded. But it was recorded. And it will be the most underappreciated record of the year, hands down.

Background: Shovels & Rope is a dirty, fuzzy, drugged out Appalachian folk record. Hangings happen. Crops wilt. And bullets fly. It’s a story of hard times, a collection of heartwrenching tales, tragic accounts of the seedy south. The record was recorded between solo records by Cary Ann and The Films records by Michael Trent, and was produced by Trent. Hollowpoint Blues is the confession of a lover done wrong… “I’m’a drink me a bottle of Night Train… Told my secret to a junky whore… I won’t let nobody tell me what I do ‘cause I believe in my pistol more than I believe in you… You better find somebody that’ll take a little mercy on you, won’t be me.” It doesn’t get any better than that.

Melanie
Ring the Living Bell/Shine the Living Light
Melanie Safka
from Gather Me
October, 1971

Anecdote: I got into Melanie through Brand New Key, which remains the only Melanie song I’ve ever heard played in public, so I had nearly written her off as a one hit wonder when I picked up some vinyl and discovered that the rest of her work, particularly the rest of the material on Gather Me, can be very mature and substantial (if at times melodramatic). So glad I took a chance on her.

Background: 1971 saw Melanie and husband/producer Peter Schekeryk leaving Buddah Records to form their own label, Neighborhood Records, and the immediate payoff was Gather Me, Melanie’s most celebrated album. Out of the gate the label had a hit record with a number one single in Brand New Key. The transition wasn’t without complications, however, as Buddah, attempting to cash in on the success of the new record, quickly released an older unreleased recording, the Nickel Song, as a single just as Neighborhood was releasing their follow up single, Ring the Living Bell. The competition kept either song from finding chart success, but Ring the Living Bell did find it’s place as a critical favorite. The track features an expand/contract arrangement that matches short, rollicking piano verses with epic choruses that expand each time through, eventually incorporating epic choir vocals, strings, brass, and the kitchen sink before collapsing into a breakdown refrain that fades out. Melanie’s vocals are particularly well done on the track, matching all the dynamics of song, and the epic arrangement suits all the idealistic, even triumphant, altruistic hippy exclamations. But as the 70’s went on and Woodstock-goes grew disillusioned, so did Melanie’s popularity fade, leaving Gather Me as one of the last relics of the movement.

Benji Hughes
Neighbor Down the Hall
Benji Hughes/Keefus Ciancia
from A Love Extreme
July, 2008

Anecdote: Benji opened for Jenny Lewis earlier this year. And what immediately struck me was his drummer, who had this incredible feel. And when I realized the drummer was a babe (Barbara Gruska) I was even more impressed. I don’t know if that makes me sexist or not. And then I realized that Benji’s white t-shirt didn’t quite fit and that his belly hung out of the bottom. Apparently he used to be a housepainter. And he still looks like a housepainter. Then I realized that all of his songs were incredible. And so I bought the record. I listen to it more than anything else I’ve bought this year.

Background: A Love Extreme is the diary of a crooning houspainter who packs his bags and moves from Charlotte, NC to Silverlake, CA in order to make a record over a 40 month period. But this is no ordinary housepainter, for Benji Hughes rides a giant wave of spacey synths and buzzsaw guitars on a lazy baratone that will woo your pants to the ground. His husky exterior deceiving, Benji is actually a connoisseur of cool, magically transforming (with the help of producer Keefus Ciancia) dating mishaps, landlord disputes, and bogus parties into sonic dreamscapes dotted with cavity-inducing sugary sweet hooks. In You Stood Me Up, Benji recounts a failed date down to the Butterfinger Blizzard and fries he had while waiting for her to show up at Dairy Queen and lands on the maddeningly catchy refrain “I guess you got me, yeah, you really got me, hundred million ways to break a heart and that’s one you taught me,” but not before letting it fly that his new girl is a “10” with jet black hair who he might not have met if he hadn’t been stood up. Underneath the sensitivity lies a quilt of tonal goodness that spans the gauntlet from Dre-inspired funk to Flaming Lips-esque choirs, a sound that is nothing if not ambitious, inspiring comparisons to Beck. This is obviously a must listen.

Bob Dylan
I Want You
Bob Dylan
from Blonde On Blonde
May, 1966

Anecdote: I have a new favorite Bob Dylan record every two weeks. And a new favorite Bob Dylan song every week and a half. Right now my favorite record is Blonde On Blonde and my favorite song is I Want You. We all interpret Dylan through our own lense and here I see Dylan dissatisfied, reflecting on a love lost and lashing out at those who tore him and his love apart. This is becoming one of my favorite sides of Dylan, the spiteful allegories. But what makes I Want You a bit different is that, in the vain of most of the record, it’s posed as a vulnerable love song.

Background: Blonde On Blonde was released in the midst of an incredibly tumultuous ‘65/’66 tour. Dylan had recruited the Hawks (who would be subsequently redubbed The Band) as his backing band for a tour that saw such cold reaction in response to his move from folk to rock ‘n roll that Levon Helm quit the group. Out of this turmoil came a batch of absurd love songs, documenting a life on the road where Dylan would retreat to women and drugs. The backing bands, a mixture of session musicians and members of the Hawks, captured what Dylan would go on to call “(his) particular sound.” I Want You, which featured Al Kooper and a host of Nashville hired guns, hints at the “carnival” sound Dylan was aiming for, albeit in a much more upbeat manner than can be found elsewhere on the album. Though largely overlooked by critics, I Want You, lead by peppy lead guitar hooks, would go on to become one of the most commercially successful tracks from Blonde On Blonde, the last record Dylan recorded before his motorcycle accident, capping what many would call his finest era.

Blitzen Trapper
Furr
Eric Earley
from Furr
September, 2008

Anecdote: I’m getting pretty used to being disappointed with new music these days, but this new Blitzen Trapper record not only lived up to my expectations, it completely shattered them. And then some. I’m going to go ahead & call it… this is the best record of the year.

Background: Stepping back from the fuzzed up grooves of their debut, Furr finds itself driven by mature folky sensibilities and rootsy subject matter, painting a much more vivid picture than before of six dudes perfecting their craft on some northeast American countryside. This is never truer than on the title track, a fable wherein the subject, after becoming lost in the woods, joins a pack of wolves and begins to conform to their ways and appearances. Ultimately he rejoins mankind, but taking with him the lessons learned about a simpler way of life. The story meanders to a stomp-clap rhythm among acoustic guitars and harmonica, occasionally accompanied by miscellaneous sounds of nature, before finally fading into what could be a passing swarm of bats and I honestly can’t think of a better way to end it. Such a charming and fresh take on folk music.