Barton Hollow - The Civil Wars, 2011

I am so happy that after last night's Grammy Awards, most of America is now aware of the force that is The Civil Wars.  The first time I ever paid this duo (John Paul White and Joy Williams) any attention was while watching So You Think You Can Dance last summer, when a group routine was choreographed to their beautiful "Poison & Wine".  Now, I love this show with a passion, and it was a lovely, well-danced routine, but I remember trying to focus on what was happening visually, while being completely wrapped up in what was happening audibly.  And actually, looking back I don't think the choreography does the song justice, but you can decide that for yourself, and watch it here:

"Poison & Wine" became their first widely received track, having also had play during a Grey's Anatomy episode - I should really start watching that show just for the exposure to emotion-packed songs by new artists.  Soon enough however, I was listening to their whole album, Barton Hollow, and most thankfully, my roommate Beth bought it on vinyl when we got to see them live at The Vogue in November.  So, here I am, on my day off on the morning after the Grammys, fully expecting to do a Whitney tribute blog, or maybe finish off the Billy Joel one that's been sitting in my drafts for a week, and all I can think about is The Civil Wars.  And apparently I'm not the only one, with Barton Hollow climbing back up to the #5 download on iTunes this morning!

So I slip Side 1 over the post and settle onto my couch, with ears perked up.  "20 Years" introduces us to Barton Hollow - a place full of stories - and to what The Civil Wars do best: soft and subtle harmonies over a lullaby-esque picked acoustic guitar.  The story is simple yet compelling, speaking of a 20-year-old note on "yellow paper" waiting to be read and responded to.  Although this record was made in 2011, I sometimes feel as though Barton Hollow is that old letter slid under my door, and I am unfolding it to discover old secrets and truths of a stranger.    

Next is one of the album's few more perky tracks, "I've Got This Friend", which was on regular rotation on my summer playlists this past July and August.  Probably my favorite matchmaking song... not that I can think of any others (without including "Matchmaker" from Fiddler on the Roof).  Since seeing The Civil Wars perform live, I can't help but picture Joy bouncing along to this song like she does in her heels and knee-length dress.  

As I've listened to "C'est La Mort" and "To Whom It May Concern" today, they keep reminding me of two other songs of similar content: Respectively, Bruno Mars' "Grenade" and John Mayer's "Love Song for No One".  (If you are unfamiliar with either, the names will link you to youtube vids.)  Of course there are several differences in both cases, but I think what truly sets The Civil Wars songs apart is their earnestness, and ability to sound convincing, whether on the subject of a love worth dying for or a non-existent, but yearned for love.   

I would say this quality is suspended into their concert performances.  Although Joy and John are not a couple, but married to different people, they are able to hold such beauty and tension in their relationship to one another.  Their partnership allows them to be so honest in their music, letting them be each other's voices for pain and love in that way.  They mean the words they sing, just not about one another.  Amazing. 

Next comes the enchanting "Poison & Wine", which still causes me to stop nearly any activity in order to digest more fully.  The song comes across as a bottle of wine that I want to guzzle, and often once I've listened intently with eyes closed, I feel drunk by the end of it.  I kind of wish Side 1 of the vinyl version ended there, but instead "My Father's Father" brings the first half of the record to a close with a sparse and simple song.  I feel as though this is the best kind of country music, because all though it is all about telling stories, they never spell it out too much for the listener, leaving plenty of room for us to fill in the blanks with our imagination.  How literal or metaphorical is the grandfather's blood on the tracks?  It's left for us to decide.  

I turn the record over and get picked back up with the album's title track, "Barton Hollow"; the bluesy number that was performed at the Grammy awards.  Continuing the trend of subtle stories, Barton Hollow becomes a home that can never be returned to, and is marked by the final line of the chorus: "Can't no preacher man save my soul".  This is followed by instrumental "The Violet Hour" on piano, guitar and a little bit of cello, that ends with the piano mimicking a bell tolling.  "The Violet Hour" reminds me how instrumentally sparse the whole album really is - the instruments are there to support the vocals, and the default attitude is that less is more.  Sometimes a violin will highlight melody or add something a little extra, or a cello will give a foundation for the guitar lick, but for the most part, listening to The Civil Wars is all about lyrics, vocal harmony, and whatever may lend itself to these.  

As an example, "The Girl with the Red Balloon" has a very light amount of violin in it; other than in the moments that swell with tension and timbre, the song is sung over guitar chords and the odd cymbal roll.  This is also what has the next song, "Falling", always remind me of the music from Marketa Iglova and Glen Hansard from the movie Once.   It probably also helps that they have a song with nearly the same title, "Falling Slowly".  Joy and John Paul's voices once again are so believably full of experience and desire and pain.  

Although I am starting to feel bad about how much I am comparing the songs on this album to other artists and work, I have not mentioned the most obvious, which is Alison Krauss and Robert Plant's collaboration on Raising Sand.  There are many comparisons one could draw, but "Forget Me Not" seems like the one song that feels as though it could have been a B Side to "Please Read the Letter".  If someone had played me this song a year ago and told me it would be on my stereo on the regular, I would have laughed and made a hostile comment towards country music in general.  Alas and alack, I have given in.  If this is Country, I am a fan.  Lower case f-fan only.

"Birds of a Feather" closes off the vinyl version of Barton Hollow, and continues the theme of channelling Krauss and Plant... can channelling happen to living beings?  Oh well.  It's fun, though minor, and leaves me wanting more.  Altogether, I am amazed that such a sad sounding album could feel so alive and well.  It is mostly in minor keys and either whispery-quiet, or desperately-loud, but it is honest and beautiful, and will long live on my future iPods.  

Although officially that's the end of the album, the bonus tracks that come with the iTunes download are very worth a mention.  The first is a song that nearly knocked me off my seat in concert: a cover of Jackson 5's "I Want You Back".  Now, I am the opposite of a fan of covering anything by Michael Jackson, but this is phenomenal, as they recreate it to the point of being nearly unrecognizable.  Next is a Leonard Cohen cover (of which I am nearly always a fan) of the song "Dance Me to the End of Love".  All this to say, I am a pacifist, but I support keeping The Civil Wars in the top download category by getting their album on iTunes.  If you haven't already.  And if you still need convincing, you can pick a free download of one of their shows, "Live at Eddie's Attic" right here:  http://noisetrade.com/thecivilwars

Congrats Joy and John Paul, on your Grammys and many new fans!  

Undun - The Roots, 2011

I've been meaning to go back a little and give you reason to pull an older slightly-neglected album off the shelves again, but new music has been so good lately!  Undun is the record I can't get enough of right now, and I want to offer it up as an alternative to Kanye's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy as an album that attempts to push rap music in a new direction.  The Roots, however, are able to do so far more narratively and positively on Undun, which focuses on a man - Redford Stevens - who dies at the beginning of the album, and everything we hear after that looks back to what led up to that particular moment.  And that's about as much pre-amble as I want to give you, because something tells me Undun is the kind of thing that we'll enjoy as we discover new things each time we listen.

The first thing I notice, before I even hit play, is the album art depicting a kid "flipping in the ghetto on a dirty mattress" as Lauryn Hill so eloquently describes.  Like any great rap album, Undun is full of reference, even in its few, but intentional visuals.  The first track, "Dun", builds (or fades out backwards-ly) sonically toward the first full song, "Sleep": stunning in its short and slow depiction of Redford looking on his own death through incredibly poetic rap.  Similarly, "Make My" is Redford's coming to terms with his near-approaching life's end.  This song is so beautiful, and strikes me as brutally honest in its ability to realistically capture someone's final song or word.  As conceptual as Undun is, I can't get over how catchy the music is throughout.  The Roots are relatively un-rivalled in the arena of instrumental hip-hop (heck, they created it), and prove they are still on top.  The bass line from "Make My"slips and slides around everywhere, and "One Time" is driven forward by percussive piano chords that, although with a low bpm, force physical movement out of its listener.

"Kool On" introduces a completely different beat with one of the slickest transitions I can remember - and it's just a fade in!  And let's face it, using an old-school vocal line as a rhythmic beat is so awesome right now, whether it's on Watch the Throne or not.  This and the next, "The OtherSide" is the closest track to a dance groove that you'll find on the album, but they are not really for dancing at all since they are gritty looks at a life of chasing drugs and money.  Greg Porn has some of the most direct and simple phrases, like "I'm on the edge of my bed making love to my meds".  

I keep thinking that the worst must be over; Redford is dead, so eventually we'll get to some happy memories, right?  On the contrary, it seems like his death is the most peaceful moment on the album, and "Stomp" definitely intensifies things, and gets the physicality of life, viscerally describing "blood sweat and tears, broken teeth and spit".  "Lighthouse" continues that theme as guest rapper Dice Raw asks us to "take a look at my lungs and my liver - it's disgusting".  Again, the rawness of the story is never abandoned in the midst of thoughtful and catchy hooks that can be played anywhere.  I have cooked and cleaned and just chilled out to this record, and it all works.  

"I Remember" suggests that Redford never really had a chance, drawing "a two from the deck" and continues to be fairly aware that death is not too far off.  "Tip the Scale" is the last track that gives us any lyrics, and I suppose it can be seen as the beginning of the end in multiple ways.  It reveals either a real or felt decision he is making between a friend's life and his own.  Knowing the end outcome gives this song even more dramatic weight.  And we are left to contemplate the short life of a thug over Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (for Yia Yia & Pappou)", and its 3 variations in the form of movements.  Each take a very different approach while holding a recognizable piece of Sufjan's original: "Possibility" is high and dream-like, "Will to Power" is is dark and jazzy, and ends with chaotic chordal clusters, and finally "Finality" feels much like a string quartet at a funeral, yet ends with a low hammer on the piano.  

Undun allowed us to peer into a common character's last bits of life, but Redford's stereotypical thug-like behaviour never distracted me from his humanity.  Nothing about this album felt like every other rap about money, drugs, sex, and death.  It was neither braggy nor preachy, yet honestly looked at nothing less than the meaning of life, and I'm left wanting to have another listen.  Don't mind if I do...  

4 - Beyonce, 2011

One of my favorite things to do around the new year is reflect on the finishing year by reading lists and making some of my own.  There are a number of artists that have shaped my 2011 with new and newly discovered albums - Bon Iver, Florence, Adele, Josh Garrels - but I've decided to talk about Beyonce's 4, because I doubt I will ever be inspired to write about any of her other albums, past or future.  And I cannot stop listening to it.

Who would have expected this?  A chock-full collection of hit after hit, that somehow sound even better together, from a woman who has built her career on singles and music videos.  Beyonce has never been what I've considered great at the art of album, but 4 is an incredibly happy exception.

"1+1" reintroduces Beyonce to us as a sexy balladess with clear control on her vocal range.  Before we dance, we are asked to remember that she is not only a beautiful, engaging performer, but a vocal contender as well.  "I Care" and "Miss You" are best paired together, both using 80's instrumentation to recall a classic pop-r&b fusion, and both wrestling with relationships either on their way out or regretfully finished.  Come to think of it, "Best Thing I Never Had" is a part of the series too - but adds some real Beyonce attitude.  Sure it's a pithy chorus, but Beyonce's never been hailed as a lyricist anyway, and it's a great song to sing at the top of your lungs in the car.  Try it sometime.

By now, we've remembered what Beyonce is capable of, but we're not sure if she's still really got the power to start the party.  By the time I listened to 4 in it's entirety I had already seen the video for the last track, "Run the World (Girls)", and was at best disappointed.  Was that going to be the strongest dance song on the album?  Certainly not.  And this is where the party begins, appropriately with "Party", which brings along with it Andre 3000 and Kanye, and a sample of La-Di-Da-Di.  It's a massive summer party track, but was unfortunately released a little too late to get the attention it deserves.

There's always one song I don't love, and on 4 it's "Rather Die Young", which feels inauthentic and silly, referencing a bad boy who is worth all the trouble.  Beyonce is getting too old for that, and I find "Start Over" to be far more believable as she searches to reignite a spark with a long-term partner.

"Love on Top" is a throwback to past divas such as Whitney of the 80's and even Diana of the 60's, as she once again shows what she can do, this time in 6 key changes.  It was the perfect song to let the world know of her anticipated Knowles-Carter child in this pop-historic VMAs performance.  You should probably watch it here if you haven't yet:

The party refuses to stop as Beyonce uses a counting down sample from Boyz II Men (good move B) to "Countdown" which is one of the most eclectic songs that doesn't sound scattered ever made in the r&b world.  The video is nearly perfect as it mirrors this collage of a song, with great dance moves and even greater outfits.  If you haven't seen it, you should probably watch it here:

THEN, "End of Time" comes on, with its massive horn shots and epic marching beat.  This for me is the highlight of the album.  By now I am sold on B, and all that is left to do is shake whatever your mother gave you, regardless of how it compares to what Beyonce received from her mother.

"I Was Here" slows everything down again with the track that will likely be played at Beyonce's funeral.  Written by legendary love song writer Diane Warren, it might be a little melodramatic for my taste, but every diva needs to plan ahead for a memorial or life-time achievement award.

The album ends with "Run the World", which actually has an incredible beat and similar energy levels to "End of Time", but falls flat when compared to other girl-power/feminist anthems like Destiny's Child's earlier "Independent Women".  The video has some amazing dancing, but it mostly frustrates me by what it could've been.  Still, considering this post has been video heavy, I might as well conclude one last performance that almost convinced me of this song:

When I think of 2011, I will undoubtedly think of Beyonce's 4.  What will you think of?

21 - Adele, 2011

I've been attempting to finish a post on the magnificent Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation, 1814 for the past couple weeks, but can't seem to.  I'm sure a large part of the delay is the fact that I'm awaiting a vinyl copy to come in the mail, and want to have listened to it once before finally publishing anything.  That's what you have to look forward to.  In the mean time, I've been going through a bit of a music funk.  I'm tired of almost everything I've heard before, but can't seem to find the energy to listen to anything new.

The one exception has been Adele's second album, 21.  Yes, it's titled from the age at which she wrote the material, and yes, that throws me off every time considering the emotional depth and maturity that echoes through most of the tracks.  I have to admit, this album is growing on me with every listen.  As a follow up to 19 I immediately found it disappointing.  Don't get me wrong, I fell in love with "Rolling in the Deep" like everyone else, and was playing and re-posting her performance at the Brit Awards of "Someone Like You" along with the half of facebook.  But after my first listen, I felt that the rest of the album couldn't live up to these two power songs.

I still think they are the strongest on the album along with "Rumour Has It".  Yet at some point I gave the rest of 21 another chance, and this time I imagined that it was a backwards sandwich - the goods at either end with mostly boring essentials in the middle.  Eventually it morphed into a Lasagna, where the cheese is still on top, and most of the good juices drip to the bottom, but really, it's all good.  Something tells me I'm hungry...

As I mentioned, 21 begins with a bang.  The album is an exploration of a particular breakup, but instead of opening with melancholy, Adele comes out swinging.  There is indeed a fire in her heart, and it's contagious.  I guess the first two songs represent the anger stage of the grief cycle.  That's my favorite.

"Turning Tables" jumps back in time to the moment she realizes a breakup is necessary, and although it's a good song, it has an annoying tendency to get Rihanna's "Unfaithful" in my head.  I'm no Rihanna-hater, but this is really one of her worst.  Still, I shouldn't take out my feelings on Adele; it's not her fault that Rihanna wrote a catchy tune that talks about being a murderer.

The one song I haven't changed my mind on is the next: "Don't You Remember".  Adele, you are so much better than a shmultzy country song.  I know every breakup album needs a depression-infused-regret song, but this can not be it.  I honestly think I would have enjoyed this album much earlier if this wasn't included.

And now that we're past it, I can relax.  It gets better from here; it's a steady increase of good tuneage.  "Set Fire to the Rain" is quickly becoming the spicy meat in my Adele sandwich... or lasagna.  It's the ideal Adele instrumentation that starts with piano at the foundation and builds through the verses to create a climax at the chorus with strings and an epic feeling chord progression.

I love the punctuated piano shots of "He Won't Go", and I do tend to sing along, so perhaps it'll still grow on me, but right now I'm mostly excited for the ballads to start.  "Take It All" feeds that craving.  Pure, soulful Adele-voice, with the tiniest dab of gospel choir.  I kind of wish she saved this one until later, because it's hard to go back to the poppy "I'll Be Waiting".

Something about "One and Only" sounds like it should be in Dream Girls (Am I alone in this?).  Maybe that's why I feel like it doesn't hit as hard as it might be trying to.  I do LOVE the bridge, where she gives him a little understanding:  "I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart."  Almost wish it was a song in itself.  Then Adele does something I never would have expected.  She covers the Cure's "Lovesong".  I really like this a lot by itself, but I'm still not sure how it goes with everything else.  Are we meant to hear that she's ready to love again, is it denial, or does she actually feel like she'll love the D-bag forever?  I'm a little confused.

I forgive and forget everything that came before as soon as the arpeggios of "Someone Like You" begin.  This son makes me melt all over, no matter where I am; I become that dork on the bus with the iPod who closes her eyes super dramatically, and worries everyone around that she might burst into tears, and no one will know what to do.  But hey, you try to listen to this tragic tune without controlling your emotional reactions.

Here's that post I love to share.  I have to go cry now, and no, I don't have time to talk about whatever the bonus track is that came with my iTunes download.