T for Tom

2017 Midseason Review on Music

Posted in Prose by johnsontoms on June 21, 2017

2017 Midseason Review

Halfway people, let’s talk about all the good music so far.

Image result for beach fossils somersault

1. Beach Fossils – Somersault – Beach Fossils previously made my favorite New York punk record, Clash The Truth, and there’s something in that phrase – “New York punk.” From a guy that’s never been there, there’s a certain amount of clout of what we think New York embodies – cold, cold steel, a life under the thumb. The Strokes and Interpol and have come close in our generation to speak for the youth of overcrowded America, but Somersault truly nails the sense of careless laissez faire for a world that’s got nothing left to offer its children – “All you got / was never had nothin’” is probably the line of the year.

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2. Slowdive – Slowdive – I have so many questions for this band. How do you disappear for nearly 30 years and get back together to make this record? How, if you’re capable of making something so timeless, classic, equally from the past as if from the future, have I never before heard of you, even if it was just one album before the breakup in 1991? What have you been doing in the interim to make these sounds possible? Maybe its best I never know and just enjoy the gift that is Slowdive. Viva.

 

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3. Father John Misty – Pure Comedy – It takes a couple listens to get through the writing that is so thick and so dense that at first its comedy upon itself – the metaphors so direct and the satire so clean that it’s almost aggravating that a major label artist can get away with writing something that on its surface seems so juvenile: an hour long ballad of angst toward the human race and its conniving modern existence, written mostly in the abstract. But, after a thorough couple spins, it’s really nothing short of magnanimous. Where it fails to show nuance, it breathes with guilt, and eventually Tillman tips his hand – he’s in this with us, and this is his suffering. Sincerely a wonderful piece of work from a genuine artist.

Image result for joey badass all amerikkkan badass

4. Joey Bada$$ – All-AmeriKKKan Bada$$ – I’ve never heard something both so gentile and violent at the same time. This is a New York rapper in the tradition of Nas, but somehow more poignant in a time of need. Where Nas and other rappers before may have been (rightfully) timid and spoken in generalities, Bada$$ isn’t beholden to such subtleties in world that he (rightfully) guesses need none. Where Father John Misty works around the problem with humor, Bada$$ goes straight home: “Start a Civil War within the USA amongst black and white and those alike / They are simply pushin’ us to our limit so that we can all get together and get with it / They want us to rebel, so that it makes easier for them to kill us and put us in jails / Alton Sterlings are happenin’ every day in this country and around the world.”

Image result for sylvan esso what now

5. Sylvan Esso – What Now – When I saw them this past spring their DJ table had “FtheNCGOP” in electric tape across the front, which read Fuck the North Carolina Grand Old Party (becauase Fuck the North Carolina Grand Old Party, among others). Sylvan Esso (Amelia and Nick) seem to be in tune with the feeling I hope we all have, at least those I know well among my age – what now? No matter what we say or do or shout or try to teach others, hate persists. And as I danced in the crowd of kids like me all jumping and singing to the music that filled us, I remember looking at the charge taped on that DJ table and thinking “the kids will be all right.”

 

Songs:

“Leaving LA” – Father John Misty – not a question in my mind this is the greatest song of the year – a “15-minute chorus-less diatribe” in the vein of Bob Dylan. Bereft of all but voice, guitar, and three strings, it’s the ballad for the ages.

“Land of the Free” – Joey Bada$$ – “The land of the free is for the free loaders, leave us dead in the street to be your organ donors. They disorganized my people, made us all loners. Still got the names of our slave owners.”

“Thinking of a Place” – The War on Drugs – you know that feeling of nostalgia and longing you get when you think of the best moments in your life? This is the soundtrack to that feeling, written about that feeling.

“The Glow” – Sylvan Esso

“Ascension” – Gorillaz – Vince Staples leads the British response to Joey Bada$$. “I’m just playing, baby, this the land of the free, Where you can get a Glock and a gram for the cheap, Where you can live your dreams long as you don’t look like me: Be a puppet on a string, hanging from a fucking tree.”

“Tangerine” – Beach Fossils

“Do I Have To Talk You Into It” – Spoon

“Prisoner” – Ryan Adams – this man is ageless.

“Star Roving” – Slowdive –  ROCK N FUCKING ROLL.

“On Hold” – The XX

“Conrad” – SOHN – this man’s voice, man.

 

Albums:

Ryan Adams – Prisoner – **** – Truly challenges as his best record ever.

Alt-J – Relaxer – ** – Eight tracks so empty you’ll fall asleep.

At the Drive-In – Interalia – * – It’s not 2000 anymore.

Beach Fossils – Somersault – ****

Michelle Branch – Hopeless Romantic – **

Molly Burch – Please Be Mine – ***

Cold War Kids – LA Divine – **

Day Wave – The Days We Had – ***

Drake – More Life – ***

Bob Dylan – Triplicate – ***

Justine Townes Earle – Kids in the Street – **** – He’s at his best when he’s cheerful.

The Early November – Fifteen Years – ***

Elbow – Little Fictions – ***

Father John Misty – Pure Comedy – ****

Feist – Pleasure – ???

Gorillaz – Humanz – *** – Everything about this album is great except for Damon Alborn’s own contributions.

Aldous Harding – Party – ***

Japandroids – Near to the Wild Heart of Life – **

Joey Bada$$ – All-AmeriKKKan Bada$$ – ****

Kendrick Lamar – DAMN. – *** – It’s safe, and that’s not what Kendrick should be.

The Lulls in Traffic – Rabbit in the Snare – **

John Mayer – The Search for Everything – **

James Vincent McMorrow – True Care – ***

Methyl Ethel – Everything is Forgotten – ***

M.I.L.K. – A Memory of a Memory of a Photograph – ***

PJ Morton – Gumbo – ***

Phoenix – Ti Amo – *** – So fun, like always.

Real Estate – In Mind – **

Sampha – Process – ***

The Shins – Heartworms – ***

Slowdive – Slowdive – ****

SOHN – Rennen – **** – What a voice.

Sufjan Stevens et al – Planetarium – *** – This is actually, really an opera.

Chris Stapleton – From A Room, Pt I – ***

Sylvan Esso – What Now – ****

The XX – I See You – **** – Their best record, and one that finally soars.

On Age and Reconciliation

Posted in Prose by johnsontoms on June 21, 2017

The smallest things can bring back a wellspring of memories so flush that the absence of the figures, the places, the smells and moments that created each one will be longed for so overwhelmingly as to supersede any wiser, calmer notions of present tense. Today I sat and waited through a simple slideshow commemorating the career of a lifelong officer in the Army, but the song that played over such militant bourgeois had with it the ability to conjure a past of my own – the song that played was typically reserved for soldiers who passed away and were then being memorialized, something I’ve sat through more times than a few. I hadn’t at any one time before known a soldier as a friend to have passed away, but to have gone through the act regularly to have then no longer heard the tune for nearly two years, put me right back there like the times before when it became passé. It put me right back in that place where I wish for all the earth that I could be 24 and in the Army again, but knowing all the while that every decision I’ve made that led to my exit has been the right one. These conflicting emotions are hard to reconcile.

As I get older, as each experience I endure becomes more rich, more colorful, more true, as I gain perspective looking back to understand the things I learned while I was young, I become more and more attached with the idea that their symbols will last forever. Even the past year when I was no longer in the Army and which I regard often as the hardest and most challenging mentally and physically, I find myself wishing I were back there to commiserate with those that needed commiseration. I wish that I were back in that bar serving beer and cooking hamburgers and finding company among the few others that understood how cruel the world had become, before I moved out to step back in line with the system that betrays us. A song maybe, or a certain color of the sunset, or even just the general sobriety that I keep these days can be enough to remind me that for a year and a half I was as if a child again with little obligations beyond paying my debts, which I was only just able to do, and the rest spent baking in the summer heat of a Texas sun while drinking cheap beer with my friends on the water we could find, the only peace available to those with little to spare. Even there, amongst the general confusion of a futureless existence, came peace a little a time.

Now with little present for sake of the future I am back to wishing I could have the world at my fingertips. I am reminded daily while working in the Army infrastructure that I once was the Army, in the uniform. Sitting next to me at all times is a framed collection of photographs that I made some years ago, photographs of the places that meant the most to me with the friends I kept – Paris, beaches of Italy, Salzburg winters, Netherlands adventures. And just as much as those moments shaped my entire existence, I think also of the hideous and despicable and asinine things that I was forced to endure just to have those few moments with those few great people – enduring gas houses, going sleepless for days wearing battle rattle, eating steaks off the desert floor, pushups for no reason, sleeping 50 to a tent, PT in the rain, yelled at constantly, standing in line all day, and above all, living with the knowledge that I could die if the circumstances were right.

There isn’t also a day that goes by that I know I haven’t made the right decisions. There isn’t a moment that I get home and not know that I’m in the right place because every time I look at the family I’ve got and things around me, only the things I love and need most, I know I’m going to be alright insofar as I’m allowed to control it. But when those times come and I haven’t seen or spoken to my friends in weeks, months, years, and I wonder where they are, I can’t reconcile that I wish I were back with them right then and right there, slapping each other’s helmets and telling jokes in the snow and missing chow time because we were greasing the cannon and working night shift in the winter and inspecting weapons and running in formation because we were friends and we hated everything we did but we did it together.

It’s hard to reconcile that time passes. I might still have my friends near me even after these changes if only the world didn’t separate us so casually, cast aside like figures on a map, each returning some way or another to a life they knew familiarly and hoping to stay in touch over the thousands of miles that now separates them. If only it weren’t so hard to get ahead and move freely about this planet, I’d have you all still near.

I’m working my way there. I just hope you can hang on until I get there.