Hum, “Downward is Heavenward”

…and we are not alone.

In February 1998, I was living with my parents, working two jobs, and attending community college in southeast Kansas. The nearest “real” cities with anything to do were two hours away (pick a cardinal direction and you’ll hit one). Music was my escape. Downward is Heavenward was one of my favorite “escapist” albums.

Flashback three years earlier. I had my first run in with Hum at an amusement park in Kansas City called Worlds of Fun. Lawrence, Kansas’ radio station Lazer 105.9 put on an all day long concert with both local bands and up-and-coming national acts. RCA had just released Hum’s major label debut (You’d Prefer an Astronaut) and “Stars” was set to go supernova (note to self – way to work that in there). It was the intellectual and romantic-in-the-classic-sense-of-the-word lyrics married to loud dropped-D chugging that was unlike anything my teenage ears had heard. It wasn’t your run-of-the-mill 90s rock. It wasn’t self-apathetic grunge, it wasn’t overtly boyfriend/girlfriend music (although it was, hidden in metaphor and scientific terminology).

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The Afghan Whigs, “Gentlemen”

understand? do you understand? I’m a gentleman, I’m a gentleman….

I have always been affected by albums as a whole. They are works of art and should be perceived that way. I like listening for the concepts and themes conveyed in an hour long piece of music. It’s like watching a movie to me. The digital music movement to me is a low point because music is now viewed more than ever before in terms of “song” rather than “album,” and it’s a shame. Its no longer about what cds you own, its whats in your ipod shuffle that matters.

One of the greatest concept albums made in my lifetime was the Afghan Whigs “Gentlemen.” The Whigs were always a cult band, and probably to this day, the ultimate cult band (although Dulli’s latest ensemble, “Twilight Singers” falls into the same category). Born during the grunge era, the band had too much of a motown-influenced sound to gain mainstream popularity. “Gentleman” got buried under albums like “Nevermind,” and “Ten,” which was too bad, because the album was pure genius. The ironic thing is that The Whigs were on the Sub Pop label early on. Anyway, they always remained too good for mainstream tastes, both their blessing and their curse.
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Bruce Springsteen, “The River”

200px-bruce_springsteen_live_75-85.jpg
My dad said: “Where you been?”
I said: “I went to take my physical.”
He says: “What happened?”
I said: “They didn’t take me.”
And he said: “That’s good.”

Now, before I even start to talk to you about this song, you need to hear a specific intro. I’ll wait. Ok? Good. Now, for years I’ve had to defend the notion that you can enjoy being sad. Long before my father passed away, I used to try and explain to people that there was a beauty in sadness, and that it was worth considering. “Happiness cannot be happiness without contrast,” I would explain. Part of this logic is evident to most people who’ve ever met Irish people who like music. The rest should be evident to anyone who has ever seen “Romeo and Juliet,” or something similar. I suppose I’ve been challenged a bit on this point since that fateful November afternoon, but, ultimately, I stand by it. The most profound sadness can show you things of beauty if you know how to look. And there’s no question that this is an ability that my father gave me.

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The Story, “In the Gloaming”

jbcov-angelinthehouse-215.jpgIn the gloaming, oh my darling
When the lights are soft and low
And the quiet shadows falling
Softly come and softly go…

 

 

 

 

 

At the start of September, 1991, I was just beginning my seventh grade year in Lowell, Massachusetts. Lowell is a fairly typical city on the decline, and the schools are both overcrowded and underachieving. Which may help to explain how I managed to find myself one of the “best students” in my particular pond. Honestly, and I sound like a complete nerd for saying it, I loved learning. I lived for books and classes and computers – school, I suppose, was a welcome respite from the stresses of growing up in a fractured home. In any case, after a conversation with my new friend Diane, I decided that I should make an effort to get transferred to the nearby town of Chelmsford. The academic opportunities were said to be amazing (and they were, comparitively), and I positively drooled at the idea of taking advanced classes in a town full of kids who – I presumed – lived for the same thing. (How young and simple, eh?) I finally made my way there for October 28th. The decision, though it has brought me the friendships and relationships I treasure, was not without its share of hardships. { See also: “litotes.”}

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Au Revoir Simone, “Stars” & Sun Kil Moon, “Ocean Breathes Salty”

Just as there are seasons for the songs that I know, there are moments when the weather, or the light, or the time, or the air just won’t allow my senses to choose what’s appropriate. In these moments, I tend to go rummaging about through the depths of my archive for “forgotten” bits, or, as is more often the case, I wander about the Internet in search of fresh ideas. The former can lead to serendipitous finds like The Mountain Goats while the latter can result in exciting things like Au Revoir Simone’s “Stars.” It can also lead to a fair bit of embarrassment, as, these days, I’m often the last guy to discover anything. If music is a continent – let’s say North America – then most of my friends are Leif Erikson, while I, regrettably, am Miles Standish (proud). What can you do?

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