Five years ago, I bought this record by merit of it being the only non-hip-hop record in my local record store’s selection of new vinyl (their selection has since improved greatly) and because of the owl on the front. Also, I thought I had heard something about the group on college radio. Nevertheless, when I first put the stylus into the groove, I had no idea what would come out of the speakers. I definitely was not, in the year 2007, expecting something that sounded like a George Harrison/Velvet Underground collaboration (in VU’s softer period, of course). The songs are delicately played, subtly sang, and hauntingly familiar–and when you’re dealing with British indie-pop, all of those qualities will work for your benefit.
folk
Record #94: Cat Stevens – Foreigner (1973)
Sometimes, my wife says it best. About eight minutes into the side-long Foreigner suite, she remarked, “Well, in terms of hit or miss, this is definitely a miss.” I asked her what she meant, and she gave me a number of answers, along the lines of, “it’s cheesy” and “it sounds like the music for some Sims Medieval video game.” She went on to remark, “it makes me want to listen to Flight of the Conchords, because they do stuff like this as a joke.”
Record #93: Cat Stevens – Teaser and the Firecat (1971)
Yesterday, I noted how much like a fairy tale Cat Stevens’ Tea for the Tillerman seemed. It’s ironic then that, while it shares a name with a children’s book written by Stevens, Teaser and the Firecat lacks the easy, story-like quality of its predecessor.
Record #92: Cat Stevens – Tea for the Tillerman (1970)
There are albums that are kind of like a spouse: you’ve played them so many times that you have every sound memorized, and you love them completely. Then, there are albums that are more like a crush: you love the idea of them, and every time you hear them, you fall in love, but you’re unfamiliar enough with them that it still surprises you.
I definitely have a crush on Tea for the Tillerman. But I’d definitely be down for getting a few cups of coffee with it to get to know it a little better.
Record #74: Bright Eyes – I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning (2005)
I distinctly remember the first time I heard the opening minute of this album, wherein Conor Oberst tells a tale of a girl on a plane that begins crashing into the sea and is told that she is going to her own birthday party, and that everyone loved her very, very, very, very much.
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Record #72: Bright Eyes – LIFTED, or, The Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground (2011)
Much has been about Conor Oberst and his distinctly ragged singing voice and self effacing/exalting lyrics. The range of tags assigned him is “whiny kid who can’t sing” on one end and “the new Dylan” on another. As with all things, the truth is somewhere in the middle.
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Record #66: Bon Iver, Bon Iver (2011)
The years between 2007 and 2011 were rather significant for Justin Vernon, the man behind Bon Iver. His debut album had been picked up by a label, and launched him into international (indie) stardom.
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Record #65: Bon Iver – Blood Bank EP (2009)
After Justin Vernon came out of his cabin in the woods with his solo debut, he also came out of the minimalist confines that the instruments in his solitude offered him. Blood Bank EP is meager in tracks, but rich in content.
Record #64: Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago (2007)
When I first heard For Emma, Forever Ago, I was a folk singer. And most of my inspiration came from the old country of Johnny Cash and Emmylou Harris, as well as the humble figerpickings of Sufjan Stevens and Damien Rice. But I was listening to so much else–Radiohead, Sigur Ros, mewithoutYou–but my musical pallet didn’t have room for too much outside of an acoustic guitar, harmonica, banjo, voice, and occasional trumpet or drum set.
Then I heard Bon Iver.
Record #59: Bob Dylan – Blood On The Tracks (1975)
As I had mentioned earlier, breakup records are an important pop music tradition, and Blood on the Tracks is the archetype for the genre. The record finds Dylan in the studio without the Band for the first time in years and returning to the lyric-heavy writing of his earlier material, leading to his first 7min+ running times since Blonde on Blonde.