2007 Rerun: For Emma Forever Ago - Bon Iver

I have had so much difficulty in motivating myself to write about my 2008 rerun album this particular season, so I have decided to skip right to the album I chose for 2007 instead. Along with Radiohead's In Rainbows (which I gave the top spot in my top 12 albums of the '00's and wrote about here), there is no question in my mind that the album of 2007 I'm most likely to 're-run' is Bon Iver's debut For Emma, Forever Ago. 

Not only did For Emma shape what we would expect from Justin Vernon and the rest of the Bon Iver crew, it also seemed to speak directly to our hearts (especially of the broken variety) through barely-comprehensible lyrics and sparsely produced acoustic guitar.  The truth is, we tend to love an album with a story, and this album has a particularly good one.  Vernon had hit rock bottom with both his romantic relationship, and his band at the time.  Carrying his grief and pain into solitude, he decided to process by moving to a secluded cabin to write, play, and record some songs.  The result: an album of intimately expressed and beautifully written tracks full of atmospheric tension.

The record begins with Flume, a song covered by none other than Peter Gabriel himself.  See what you think of that, here. I'm not sure what I think about understanding all the words in this song, since part of what draws me into the raw emotionalism of Bon Iver's music is the way his Vernon's voice makes it hard to make out the english words. There is a sense that the only language that is clearly being spoken is that of music, and when a word or phrase does break in to my consciousness, it becomes especially meaningful.  One of the clearest sounds in Flume is a muffled echo, reminding me that when grief is most poignant, sometimes nothing else sounds clear. 

Although Lump Sum begins with monkish motet-like harmonies, the song picks up with a faster pace, without losing the sadness that permeates the entire album.  The echoey sounds continue in the harmonies, and the song fades perfectly into Skinny Love, arguably the most popular song from For Emma..., and for good reason, since few break-up songs are able to so honestly hold in tension such raw emotion with thoughtful reflection.

The Wolves (Act I and II) slows down and emphasizes harmonies that remind me of Fleet Foxes.  It moves from being nearly the sparsest track on the album, to being the most dense, complete with a horn section and chaotic drum set solo, and finally returning to the sparse voice and guitar feel it began with.  I feel as though if I took a bit more time with this song, I would find all five stages of grief represented.  Someone else can do that though.  I'm moving on to my first love of this album: Blindsided.

Just this listen through, I realized was how clear Vernon's vocals are on Blindsided.  It seems as though the only thing he can make sense of verbally is his feelings from being blindsided, and his continual reeling from the shock.

Creature Fear and Team are two songs that carry the most volume and energy on For Emma, but instead of coming across as angry, they sound confused and desperate.  Team is also the one lyric-less track on the album (though Vernon's voice and whistle can still be heard), but I hardly notice this because of how Vernon treats his voice already like one of the instruments.

For Emma seems as though he has moved to a point of considering closure.  Don't get me wrong; he's still fairly bitter, ("Go find another lover... to string along") but the relationship feels "forever ago".  My favourite part of this song are the horns.  The strumming pattern gets old, but it does carry this sense of moving forward, one step at a time.  If the album ended here, I think it would sound like a fabricated happy(ish) ending, but luckily it does not.

Vernon ends with an "excavation" - Re:Stacks is a reflection that questions the entirety of his lost relationship.  He plays with the metaphor of gambling in a way that is full of both sadness and hope.  Hope, because there is a hint in the last line that the album itself is a part of the process towards moving on.  He may have hit rock bottom, but he knew exactly where to channel that painful, chaotic energy: into an album that wrestles with his fears and griefs vulnerably and honestly.  This is an album that I will return to, not only when I am at my worst, but perhaps especially when I am.

2009 Rerun: Sigh No More - Mumford & Sons

The 2009 Re-Run was a no-brainer for me.  I allowed one other album to keep a foot in my list of options for a while, but there is no evading the fact that Mumford & Sons' debut album will be most often and likely returned to.  I've found a lot of reviewers have been extraordinarily hard on Sigh No More, perhaps because of its rather quickly spread success; something so loved by the mainstream couldn't possibly be brilliant!  But it is.  Sigh No More is brilliant, not for its musical experimentation nor deep insights, but for its simple ability to speak of and to the human experience, with hope and stomping of feet.

The first song and title track of Sigh No More acts as almost an overture does to an opera, but instead of foreshadowing melodies, it hints at the dynamics and stylistics that make up Mumford & Sons' flavour.  It begins with emotional harmonies over a quiet plucked guitar, and slowly but surely, the bluegrassy folk band builds up to what they love most: full band at full volume, driven by a kick drum on every beat.  Ironically enough, if we listen to this album before knowing anything about this new English group, the first song invites us into the middle of a story - a relationship - in which the singer, Marcus Mumford, cries, "you know me!"  Now I feel as if I do, and that is one of the reasons I will always go to this record when I need a pick me up.

I've been listening to this album quite a bit this week, and I find it's most effective when I happen to be feeling a lot of feelings.  Marcus Mumford becomes the thoughtful and encouraging voice in my head, attempting to out-yell the negative ones.  "The Cave" is one of those songs that is so good to yell out loud to yourself, whether it's you who needs to hear it, or someone else.  No wonder it's their second biggest single and the most listened-to song from the album on my personal iTunes.  

I mostly appreciate "Winter Winds" for the horns it profiles, but also the way it appropriately references speaking to one's self.  It leads up to one of my favourite tracks, "Roll Away Your Stone", which uses its religious references to explore the vulnerability and courage of friendship.

I recently watched Taylor Swift do a cover of the next track on the album, "White Blank Page".  Unsurprisingly, she doesn't do it justice at all.  This is because the beauty of this song lies not in the cuteness of love, but in the "swelling rage" of it being unrequited.  I especially like the violin lines, and singing along to the "ahh's".  "I Gave You All" continues a rant - perhaps on the same relationship lost - and is equally fun to sing to.  We end up with the longest break from full instrumentation since the start of the album, and it's kind of nice break.  Don't worry, it builds back before too long, and even brings the horns back as well.

"Little Lion Man" is one of the most justified uses of profanity in a chorus - there's just something about an apology that authentically recognizes how much the apologizer has messed up, and there's something really unsatisfactory about the verb "mess".  This music video was my very first introduction to Mumford & Sons:

 

I listened to this album while trying to plough through a large pile of paperwork-errands in one of my borrowed offices today, and though much of the album is full of tension and pressure, the one song that I found incredibly weighty and stressful was "Thistle and Weeds".  Soon enough I was calmed by Sigh No More's most-like-a-hymn, "Awake My Soul".  Sitting in my office with the weight of my two-page-long to-do list, this song felt like a prayer.  Other times it may seem a bit trite.  A friend recently asked me how many of Mumford's lyrics come straight from one of his father's sermons.  Well, either way, the result is sing-along-able tracks that, even if cliche'd, work great.

"Dust Bowl Dance" kicks it back into pressure mode, but at least the two songs are broken up long enough so that my shoulders don't explode from tension.  The final track, "After the Storm" is appropriately titled after this rush of an album.  We leave the album with some stark images of death, fear, and loneliness, but also some words of comfort ("love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears") in this lullaby.  It's a song I can sleep on, or, as I have often done, return back to the beginning of Sigh No More.

2010 Rerun: Wake Up! - John Legend & The Roots

Here it is, the first of the Record Rerun series.  Beginning with 2010, I'll be moving backwards, picking an album from every year.

It could be a little tricky to predict that an album less than 2 years old will be one I listen to for years to come.  2010 was a decent year for music, but I have to admit, this decision wasn’t so difficult for me.  Although there were a fair amount of stand-out albums - Sufjan, Kanye, Janelle Monae, Erykah Badu, Beyonce, Cee-Lo, Arcade Fire and The Black Keys, to name a few – still, Wake Up! was a relatively quick pick.  It did help that I’ve written about a few of the albums above already.  But ultimately, this gospel-saturated collaboration between John Legend and The Roots (and a few other guests) gives off the sense that it intends not only to be a great album of its year, but an all-time classic.

In 2010, I so anticipated this record.  I love John Legend's voice and style, but am often let down by his actual song choices, so I was stoked for him to work with The Roots on some soul covers.  I picked it up immediately, and was not disappointed.  The animated cover art is beautiful, and the music is even better.  I suggest a relatively high volume for your ideal listening experiece.  Speaking of, if you want to listen along, here's the soundcloud link: http://soundcloud.com/billboard/sets/wake-up-john-legend-and-the-roots

“Hard Times” kicks off the album with some brief reflection time, as ?uestlove gives us some cymbal love, and John Legend freestyles a bit before the beat drops.  And when it does, it drops hard.  Nearly every beat is accented by something, whether it’s the drums, horns, or bass.  It's a full song, with a lot of anger-release potential, showing off just how tight The Roots can be.

“Compared to What” settles into a groove, without ever letting go of the drive already established.  As it fades out, piano runs and tambourines give us a decidedly philly-style introduction to the title track, “Wake Up Everybody”.  The duet features Melanie Fiona, who sounds best when harmonizing with Legend, but I am probably biased.  Common also makes an appearance, which is also just fine with me.  I feel like it would be a good idea for him to collaborate with John Legend more in the future.  The call to “Wake Up” continues into “Our Generation”, with the punchy response of, “let’s straighten it out”.  The invitation to accept responsibility and make things better is refreshing, and the baritone saxophone doesn't hurt either.

“Little Ghetto Boy” – first the prelude, which comes across more as a spoken word over piano and drums, and then the song – begin Side B of the record.  The song flows seamlessly, and kicks in with Black Thought rapping over a progression led by an organ.  These two related tracks represent what this album is all about: optimism in the face of pain and suffering.  Never does “Little Ghetto Boy” excuse the kid to spiral – he's expected to grow up and change his situation – but neither does it minimize the difficulty that his situation presents.  Like in “Our Generation”, a the choral response is repeated, but instead of an imperative, a different kind of hope is offered: “everything has got to get better”.

I somehow always miss the next song on Wake Up!  Even when I intentionally listen to it, by the time “Humanity” drops its reggae feel, and talking “about love the way it should be…” and I forget all about “Hang In There”.  Both songs offer optimistic hope and encouragement, and feel laid-back, which you should enjoy before you're taken to church on Side C & D of the vinyls.  

“Wholly Holy” is a song I would legitimately love to hear in a church.  On this record that calls us to not only believe, but act towards making our world more live-able, it makes sense that the spiritual overtones would be given some explicit reference.

I have a sneaky suspicion that “I Can’t Write Left Handed” was The Roots' favourite song to record.  Legend opens it up with some preamble, recognizing that, “war is always hell.  It always will and it always has been”, before launching into to this beautiful soul-folk song, telling the story of a man shot in the arm.  This song is long, builds slowly, and is performed in every imaginable collection of dynamics.  John Legend shows what he’s made of, as he repeats a lot of the story several times, yet every time brings the lyrics alongside a deep-seated emotion and soul.

One last time, I flip the vinyl over for the shortest Side of the record.  “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be Free”, and “Shine” complete the song cycle, by moving the focus not just to ourselves, but letting stifled voices heard.  You should probably listen to Nina Simone doing “I Wish I Knew…” as well, because she is the bomb.  "Shine" works almost as a benediction, or a modern day version of "This Little Light of Mine".  While we move out to Wake Up the world around us, and make it better, "Shine" reminds us not to write anyone off, and let them shine on.

It is so easy to complain about everything and anything, but this album inspires hope in a way that few have the confidence to do.  Happy listening, and I'll try to be quick with posting my 2009 rerun.  Peace out.