One thing I am especially grateful for in this world is music. I've said before that there are two things I find constant in life: God and music. I'm not saying that God and music are the only two things worth living for, but they are certainly two things that will never go away (or at least, not until I'm deaf.) When I am down and when seemingly nobody understands what I'm going through, I can always find comfort in them.
So today I honor the music that is defining this period in my life. If you know me you know that my memory tends to work through music; all of the music I own and listen to defines certain chapters in my life. There are the metal stages (high school), folk stages (winters), punk stages (summers), techno stages (long story.) I even keep track on my iTunes individual playlists from the quarters in college, because each one of them tells a story of what my life was like in that time period.
So here we are now, rounding the corner into winter. Athens is dead and will be for the next six weeks, leaving me home alone working and procrastinating on Christmas shopping. This time of year is always very mellow for me, and my listening habits tend to reflect that; slow and melancholy, the only way you can define Athens in the winter.
That all being said, here's a look at what I'm listening to now:
Stars, Sad Robots: Excellent name for this six-song EP, and somehow, when you listen to it, you kind of get the idea why it was named that. Stars tend to create light-hearted indie pop, but this EP is what happens when you drown that in droning synths and sadness. I heard someone say a few months ago it's perfect 'fall music,' but I'd have to argue that the melancholy here demotes it to see-your-breath, leave-less-tree sorts of introspection; in other words, this is good 'winter music.'
Check the album out here.
Joe Pug, Nation of Heat: Another solid EP, this is the debut from young Chicago singer-songwriter Joe Pug. Pug assembles his acoustic-guitar picking, harmonica, and gravelly voice into literary folk music not dissimilar to Josh Ritter and even Bob Dylan (for comparison's sake.) Key track here is "Hymn #101," a sweeping confession of a song that features one of my recent favorite lines: "They say I come with less than I should rightfully possess / I say the more I buy, the more I'm bought / And the more I'm bought, the less I cost."
Check it out here.
Denison Witmer, Carry the Weight: I discovered Denison about a year ago when he played Baker Center here in Athens. I bought two of his records, Safe Away and Are You a Dreamer?, that day, and he has since become something of a favorite for me and Katie. His stuff is the kind of singer-songwriter acoustic pop that you listen to on a cold, quiet day - hushed finger-picking, oft-near-whisper vocals. Though a lot of his stuff is more depressing than I'd usually ask for (there's a reason he's been compared with Elliott Smith) I find I retreat to Denison more than a lot of other artists. His new effort though, Carry the Weight, is something of a change of pace. This album features a full band on nearly every track, as Denison veers more towards indie pop and away from acoustic, maybe in an effort to redefine and recategorize his stuff. It is catchy pop music, but not the Denison I expect. Good stuff, but not necessarily great - and not a good place to start listening to him. (For that, check out this website.)
Check out Carry the Weight here.
The Innocence Mission, Now the Day is Over: I stumbled onto this gem from folk quartet The Innocence Mission while browsing around eMusic. When I played it for Katie, she suggested I don't tell my friends I got it. Why? Because it's an album of 13 lullabies, including classics like "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," "What a Wonderful World," and "Edelweiss." Here they're stripped down about as much as they can be, perfect for the sleeping children this album was intended for - and for the mood I tend mellow into during break. Can't wait to watch the snow fall while listening to this stuff.
Check it out here.
More chill music to come!