March (music) Madness

March is finally here, and with it a glimmer of hope that warmth is around the corner. Of course, living in Ohio, I don't trust that warmth is here for good until mid-June (I was wearing shorts one day last week, today - Monday - it's 20 degrees. Blast you, Ohio...), so I don't get my hopes too high on days it creeps above 50 degrees.

What I do install my hopes in about this time of year, though, is the warmth delivered through music. Around the time the calendar turns to March and spring break is on the immediate horizon (God bless you, March 20), I crank up spring-inspired tunes (as in, anything upbeat and/or involving steel drums), and pack away the droning, mopey stuff (see you in about 7 months, Bon Iver) that I so often associate with the loneliness/introspection of winter. I've noted here before that I'm seasonal with music, but it's worth saying that spring is typically the most drastic evidence of this phenomenon.

(If you doubt my theory, I defy you to catch me listening to Bob Marley in a month that isn't March or April. Seriously.)

What's exciting me right now? The prospect of cranking down my windows and cranking up the new U2 album, "No Line on the Horizon," some good ol' rock 'n' roll running through my hair. Or the thought of sitting on my porch, Animal Collective's "Merriweather Post Pavilion" blaring from inside, sun shining down. (For the record, I still don't have "MPP"; been waiting for the backorder of vinyl. But I'm confident the aforementioned scene will occur.)(Tuesday edit: finally bought "MPP," along with "No Line on the Horizon," today. Super pumped. But it's still cold.)

Anyway, my point here (in case you haven't figured it out) is that my winter-to-spring music listenings transition is under way. A sampling of what sorts of artists ease their way out of hibernation during this transition:

- Bob Marley
- Red Hot Chili Peppers
- Green Day
- The Clash
- Kanye West
- Modest Mouse
- Wilco (coming to Athens April 17, oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh)
- Arcade Fire
- Band of Horses
- Rage Against the Machine
- The White Stripes
- Dispatch
- Beirut
- Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
- Flogging Molly

This spring, as I've incorporated these artists more and more into my daily listening habits, I've also had the (pleasant) distraction of several fantastic albums solidifying themselves in my rotation and proving to be seasonally appropriate offerings. Here's some new stuff I've been listening to (which will, at the end of today, be at least temporarily overshadowed by "MPP" and "No Line"):

Welcome Wagon, Welcome to the Welcome Wagon: I wrote about this late-2008 album a couple of posts back, so I won't waste too much time here rehashing what I said. Suffice it to say, this is pretty orchestral-folk-rock a-la-Sufjan Stevens (who signed the Welcome Wagon to his label and produced this debut effort.) The difference between this and Sufjan's mastery is the directly-spiritual lyrics; while Sufjan is usually ambiguous with his shout-outs to the Almighty, the Aiuto husband-wife tandem (of which Thomas Vito Aiuto is the Reverend Thomas Vito Aiuto) is up front with its odes to the Omega (ha, okay, enough with the clever word play.) Anyway, what you'll find here - and the reason its appropriate for the season - is bouncy alternative gospel, if ever there were some. The tambourines, the horn section, the banjo - it all comes together in a sunshiny way.

Andrew Bird, Noble Beast: Bird's stuff is not so much upbeat as it is, well, optimistic. His epic whistling (he's got to be the best in the whistling biz) combines with sweeping string arrangements (he's a classically-trained violinist) to create alternative rock splashed with classical and jazz, lovely tunes that explore all ends of the melodic spectrum. As the cover of the album suggests, Bird's latest, "Noble Beast," seems perfectly fit for the great outdoors; it's a naturalistic album that paints a musical beauty suited for something we can find, often, ride outside our front door. Or on a cross-country road trip. Or from deep inside a swaying, yard-side hammock. Anyway, you get the point; this is an album (similar to his others, by the way) that longs to appreciate the fresh air and warmth of spring.

M. Ward, Hold Time: Fresh off his stint with Zooey Deschanel as the Him in She & Him (a collaboration that produced an album, "Volume One," which I've grown to appreciate; keep reading this post), Matt Ward - M. Ward on the stage - recently released his sixth solo album, the 14-track LP "Hold Time." Ward's solo stuff (he collaborates with several artists in his off time, like Conor Oberst and Jim James) is a good blend of country, rock, and folk, backed by the songwriter's deep, unassuming croon that explores very little of the melodic spectrum. On "Hold Time," his work with She & Him shows, as the LP is a little more accessible, friendly, and dare I say, mainstream (if you're unfamiliar with M. Ward, this isn't a bad place to start, but I'd recommend his last album, "Post War.") None of this is to say, though, that it's bad; in fact, it's very, very good. Ward bounces out catchy tunes that sing of loneliness, love and God (a perfect rock trifecta) and the end result is a warm, alt-rock record.

She & Him, Volume One: Okay, confession time: I did not want to like this record. Sure, I was curious to know what it was like (big fan of the "Him," M. Ward), but I really didn't want to like it. Why? I guess a part of me felt a wee bit betrayed by Ward; the "She" in She & Him is Zooey Deschanel, an actress best known for her role in the Will Ferrell movie "Elf," and that sure didn't seem very cool to me. One of my favorite singer-songwriters collaborating with a sexy young Hollywood actrees? Puh-lease. I'll take a rain check. Alas, the acclaim poured in; they said Deschanel's voice was silky-smooth. They said Ward's country-rock touches brought out a 60s-rock brightness to Deschanel's lyrics. They said it was one of the best records of the year. Paste went so far as to call it the best album of 2008 (which I noted in my post of the best '08 records), a selection that I deemed nearly blasphemous. I avoided it as long as I could, but in the end, crumbled at my own demise: I bought the album for my parents for Christmas, thinking they'd like it. And they absolutely loved it. Played it during family dinner. Played it while washing dishes. Listened to it all the time. And of course, I realized I liked it too; is it the best record of 2008? No. But it is a fun trip into 60s-pop, a catchy record with some Beatles' covers to boot. So there. I like it. Now let's move on.

MGMT, Oracular Spectacular: You might know this electronic-rock duo as "that one band" that sings "that one song" from "that one movie" or "that one commercial." That's right, MGMT is responsible for "Time to Pretend," a really frickin' catchy dance number that was featured in the movie "21" and, I believe, in some car commercial (at least that's what I was told when blaring the song in my car for my roommates thinking I was hip, a realization that left me sad, confused, and very un-hip.) Anyway, truth is that this 2008 record (remember when I said there were four albums from 2008 that deserved to make my "best of" list? This and "Volume One" are them. Sorry I forgot to keep going with that) has a lot more to like than just that song, especially "Kids" and "Electric Feel," both of which are better than "Time to Pretend," in my opinion. The album gets a little soft in the second half, but ultimately is worth a listen, if only you want to dance around and get a little sweaty in the warm spring air.

Welp, that's all for now, but stay tuned for more.

(It must be noted here that this post took me four days to write. Now here I am, on Thursday, and it's nearly 60 degrees outside. Yes, welcome to Ohio. Anyway, today might be the perfect day to drive around blasting some of these tunes out the window. And I'm listening heavily to "Merriweather Post Pavilion" and "No Line on the Horizon," which I will share my views on soon.)