Tuesday, March 17, 2009

2000

The year 2000 does not seem like such a long time ago... and yet it was! Nine years have passed since the Y2k scare, since we exited the 1990s, since Bush, Jr., first entered the White House. A lot really has happened between now and then. I had to make a lot of personal adjustments as well since this was also the year I graduated from high school and entered college. Music was also turning a corner as certain scenes died (ska, industrial) and others (rap-core, metalcore, revitalized hardcore, and something we mislabeled as "emo") took off. Of these I tended to favor the sad stuff because, obviously, nobody on Earth could possibly understand how I felt.

We're not going to look at the outright emo-y stuff because, in retrospect, quite a bit of it was actually quite annoying. Instead we'll focus on these five performers who were (and some continue to) express loss and doubt and shame in an authentic and ear-pleasing manner.

Lock the door so nobody will see you cry. We're going to revisit some of the music that made gray clouds weep cold rain... IN THE YEAR 2000!



Bear Quartet - Helpless
The Bear Quartet are, at last count, a quintet from Sweden who, despite having been around for twenty years, remain fairly obscure. They cover a myriad of noisy genres, from straight up rock to electro-pop to post-punk, but excel when they tone it down for the weepy ballads. In "Helpless" the lyrics are vague (and Swedishly accented), but the stumbling acoustic guitar and pitter-pat percussion and the wispily sung chorus convey soft forlorn emotions that are bittersweetly familiar, even if there's not really anything identifiable to put your finger on.

Kind of Like Spitting - Birds of a Feather
In 2000 Ben Barnett, who pretty much IS Kind of Like Spitting, released (at least) three full-length albums and a split, and there were probably some other EPs recorded that year as well. He is a prolific beast, yet his songwriting remains uncompromised. Two things stand out in this song... well, way more than two, but these are the things that grab me hardest: 1) the violin that winds its way through the music like a thin stream of water, and 2) the closing lines of the song. It's all a little bit angsty, but in a resigned sort of way rather than the more irritating overwrought sort of way.

Damien Jurado - Tonight I Will Retire
This was the very first Damien Jurado song I ever heard, and it is still one of my favorites. I couldn't understand how such joyful things like embracing your lover and going to heaven could end up being so dang sad. Listen to the lyrics and hear it all unfold. The instrumentation doesn't add much in the way of happiness as it's only Jurado's soft voice over top sparse piano playing and even sparser percussion. It's a bleak recipe for complete and utter sadness. Enjoy! By the way that's David Bazan on keys and drums, and sources tell me that even the album's name, Ghost of David, refers to Mr. Bazan. Why don't they just get a room?

Pedro the Lion - Bad Things to Such Good People
So... David Bazan. He can and will devastate you. The story told in this song makes a little bit of sense on its own, but to be fully appreciated it should be taken within the context Winners Never Quit which tells the story of two brothers, one a successful politician, the other a screw-up. There's a lot of drama and "Bad Things", located near the end of the album, describes some of the aftermath. It's amazing how many emotions this one song can elicit, all of them negative. What's completely positive, though, is Bazan's acoustic guitar-playing. It churns and gallops as he wails about familial disappointment and spiritual crises. This album changed the way I thought about music while depressing the heck out of me.

The Gloria Record - A Lull in Traffic
This title track from The Gloria Record's A Lull in Traffic EP. It's a musical departure (or advancement) from the band's previous work in that there is a lot more going on here sonically. While the band's first recordings seemed to pick up where Mineral left off, the initial pop of the very first note from this, the very first song from the EP, indicates that the music is going to hover in a more etheral direction. And it certainly does. "A Lull in Traffic" (both the song and the entire album) sound like Christmas songs for the wary. Lyrically every line of this song is a keeper even though nothing is really being described. It's like hearing a vague outline to the story of a failed life, and you can interpret the middle as you like.