Up for Sunrise

The Catbirdseat has compiled an interesting little list, naming five albums we didn't hear in 2007. Among these is Dolorean's You Can't Win, which reminded me of a Dolorean song I enjoyed from a sampler/comp called Outta Sight! and had since forgotten. "Morning Watch" recalls Damien Jurado (who, interestingly, soundtracks a wonderful short film featured on Dolorean's website) in its weightiness and worn melody.

Dolorean - Morning Watch [mp3]

I'll post the film here too, since it really is good. As Mr. Dolorean says: simple and emotional. Plus, you can hear Jurado's "I Had No Intentions".



buy You Can't Win from Yep Rock.

Bows + Arrows is Two

Thanks to everyone who has shared music, insight, time and excitement with me over the last couple years. It's slow going around here, I know, and it's because I still haven't found the perfect way to do this. There has been interesting discussion, especially recently, about the purpose of music blogging, or something to that effect. It's kinda disheartening, the current state of music blogs, though clearly I haven't done much to change that. Still, about 2.34 times/month inspiration strikes and I'm reminded that this can be an enjoyable endeavor.

To celebrate I'd like to share a song which I've been (halfheartedly, of course) searching for over the past couple years. It was my introduction to the Weakerthans and, in many ways, indie rock, an alternate take on the beautiful "Everything Must Go". Long after, when I picked up Left and Leaving, I would hear the song in a slightly different form and realize that it's missing something. The drums! In the perfect version, they start and end the song, cast a grey drizzle over the affair, hush Samson's words and guitar.

The Weakerthans - Everything Must Go (Alternate Version) [mp3]

I hope this thrills at least one of you out there.

***

The brains and heart behind It's Hard To Find A Friend offers a wonderful holiday album, with some special tracks, for seven dollars. Though it's not the songs that should entice you when all-proceeds-go-to-charity! Check it out here.

I Sold Myself Out

Pitchfork wasn't so far off in their review of Christopher Denny's Age Old Hunger: it's an out-of-time record from a man in Arkansas, a lovely album of songs, old and new, sung genuinely. I do think, however, that two things need be mentioned in conjunction with the album, points which I find most appealing about Mr. Denny's work. First, there is a very strong resemblance to the wonderful Tom Brosseau which extends beyond the obvious vocal comparisons (is it appropriate to call it "high lonesome," or is that something else altogether? It fits.). Knotty punctuation aside, a shared affinity for trains and a lost generation of middle-America and its mannerisms ties the gentlemen-- at least in my mind.

Christopher Denny - Age Old Hunger [mp3]

Secondly, the Pitchfork article makes no mention of the title track, the strongest point on the record, even if it's not the most accurate representation. "Age Old Hunger", unlike the album's other tracks, can't be reduced to C&W or old-timey-anything. Too direct and too stark, it's-- and I hate to use this word in this context-- hungry.

I sold myself out, and I didn't get nothing in return
I sold myself out, not one thing did I earn.

I damn near lost my mind, trying to think like somebody else
And I about lost my heart, trying to feel like somebody else.

proclaims Denny, with what can only be described as sheer conviction, over two smoldering chords. And later:

I wanna feel this hole in my soul, just how I don't know
I wanna feel good like I did when I was younger.

it's powerful and simple, recalling Dylan's "Most Of The Time" (musically too!). Please, take it with you and listen, this will all make more sense, really.

purchase Age Old Hunger, out now on 00:02:59.