The voice is perhaps the most underrated instrument in all of rock music. Look through any bookstore and you'll notice: 4-5 guitar magazines, a couple bass mags, a few drum books, but typically zero vocal magazines.
Why?
My only reasoning is that people feel as they can change the way they play an instrument, but cannot change the way they sing. The voice is naturally formed and virtually unchangable, the only change being from the wear and tear of age. I don't know how old Jim James (of My Morning Jacket) is, but there is absolutely no sign of any maturing, just the golden vocal chords of God Himself.
On record, I've always been attracted to James' voice. Through numerous EPs (Chocolate & Ice, Split w/ Songs: Ohia) and a couple albums (At Dawn, It Still Moves--I don't have the Tennessee Fire) I've enjoyed a whiskey-sweet, floating voice capable of a mood I've never heard before. His voice is one that can fill enormous spaces and still be soft. It can fit perfectly into every song, but stand out at the same time. It is a voice that (for me) stands for the lush South on the brink of fall, that feeling of disappointment of another summer gone but simulateous excitement. James' voice is the only one I've ever heard capable of sadness and uplift at the same time in the same word.
While the records are great, James' voice is even better live. Now, I've never seen them, but their new record, Acoustic Citsuoca, captures the greatest possible picture of the band ever. Nothing but acoutic guitars, minimal backing and that golden voice. As the EP winds through backing gets more sparse leaving more room for James to sing. Even when he hits a sour note, it's not because of his voice, but his body that seems like it's unable to keep up with his voice. A voice frozen in time and perfect.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Of language
The man said:
"When I golf,
I don't need a pen,
but a pencil
with an eraser."
How many more times
will I hear this,
before I die?
"When I golf,
I don't need a pen,
but a pencil
with an eraser."
How many more times
will I hear this,
before I die?
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Journey to the Center of the Universe
I would like to write of some new albums I have gotten, but I haven't completely absorbed all of them as of yet. To whet your appetite: Canned Heat - Cookbook, Issac Hayes - Live at the Sahara Tahoe 1973, Interpol - Antics, Hot Snakes - Audit in Progress, Lakeside - Fantastic Voyage, Joanna Newsom - The Milk-Eyed Mender, Devendra Banhart - Nino Rojo, My Morning Jacket - Acoustic Citsuoca, The Arcade Fire - Funeral, Jack Rose - Raab Manifestos, Necrophagist - Epitaph, Sunn 0))) - White 2...
But now...
I recently watched High Fidelity, a wonderful movie. It is undoubtedly among my top 5 favorite films, if not number #1. It's not a movie that is extremely unique to look at (see Steven Frears' 2003 entry, Dirty Pretty Things), but it is an incredible story based on a book by Nick Hornsby. I have never read the book and I don't really intend to. I don't need to.
For those of you who have not seen the film High Fidelity is the story of a man, Rob Gordon (John Cusack) who finds himself destined to be rejected by women, time and again. He sets himself on a journey to discover exactly what the cause may be.
Ironically, the cause is there the whole time. Instead of acknowledging fault or accepting responsibility for failure, Rob skirts the issue--himself. Rob's story is one of the contemporary adult male's all too common solipsistic tendencies. Rob can never remember how a relationship ends, only that he is the one hurt--end of story. Rob views himself as the subject of the sad pop song, continually wronged. The clincher comes when, after asking Laura if she slept with Ian, he sleeps with Marie DeSalle and asks, "What did Laura mean by, 'I didn't sleep with Ian yet?'"
Rob's situation is not too hard to imagine. Any person that exists in a relationship occassionally puts the blinders on, only viewing themselves and their emotions. It takes a long time and, sometimes, a big moment to understand that there are two people: a relationship requires push and pull, give and take. I only hope I can be so lucky.
But now...
I recently watched High Fidelity, a wonderful movie. It is undoubtedly among my top 5 favorite films, if not number #1. It's not a movie that is extremely unique to look at (see Steven Frears' 2003 entry, Dirty Pretty Things), but it is an incredible story based on a book by Nick Hornsby. I have never read the book and I don't really intend to. I don't need to.
For those of you who have not seen the film High Fidelity is the story of a man, Rob Gordon (John Cusack) who finds himself destined to be rejected by women, time and again. He sets himself on a journey to discover exactly what the cause may be.
Ironically, the cause is there the whole time. Instead of acknowledging fault or accepting responsibility for failure, Rob skirts the issue--himself. Rob's story is one of the contemporary adult male's all too common solipsistic tendencies. Rob can never remember how a relationship ends, only that he is the one hurt--end of story. Rob views himself as the subject of the sad pop song, continually wronged. The clincher comes when, after asking Laura if she slept with Ian, he sleeps with Marie DeSalle and asks, "What did Laura mean by, 'I didn't sleep with Ian yet?'"
Rob's situation is not too hard to imagine. Any person that exists in a relationship occassionally puts the blinders on, only viewing themselves and their emotions. It takes a long time and, sometimes, a big moment to understand that there are two people: a relationship requires push and pull, give and take. I only hope I can be so lucky.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
A vote for the democrats...
...is a vote for more drugs! Look at this. The Kerry/Edwards campaign is offering, in their gear section, a daily pill holder. Take note that the pill holder is the first item under the "accessories" tab. This pill holder also reminds geriatrics with alzheimer's who to vote for.
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