I and Love and You

Apart from my man crush on Sufjan, there are a couple of other artists whom I go ga-ga for on a pretty regular basis. It is a select group of artists whom I can listen to at any time of day, any time of year and, well, it's pretty exclusive. (No big deal.)

The Avett Brothers are definitely members of this group. I fell for them hard two years ago through their album Emotionalism, and haven't looked back. I (try to) learn their songs on guitar, I (think I) woo Katie with their lyrics, and I find that I (probably falsely) relate to them on some sort of level (what that level is I'm not sure, but a man can dream). Heck, a song from these guys could end up as the first-dance song at my wedding. (At least I'm pushing for it. Stay tuned.)

Regardless, they released a new album today, I and Love and You. It's their major label debut, and was produced by none other than mega-music-producer, I-could-produce-three-platinum-albums-in-my-sleep-using-only-the-skin-on-my-left-elbow Rick Rubin. I haven't purchased it yet (saving it for the record-shopping spree with the boys on Saturday), but I've streamed it a couple of times. Despite this nagging feeling that they should have avoided Rick Rubin (just seems so mainstream) I'm finding that the album is unsurprisingly fantastic.

I'll probably post my track-by-track review of the album sometime next week, after I've bought the vinyl and descended from the Cloud 9 that I'm expecting U2 to perch me atop Saturday night, but in the meantime, this is the music video for first single "I and Love and You." It does a pretty good job showing the world what these Carolina boys are like, and just how beautiful their songs can be. Enjoy.

New Sufjan

You may know by now that I have, well, a thing for Sufjan Stevens. The man is quite extraordinarily talented, and produces some of the greatest, in my opinion, music of the new millennium.

Of course, he hasn't released a proper album of new material since 2005. There have been b-sides and Christmas albums, and there will soon be a classical re-mix of an old album (Enjoy Your Rabbit) and an album of orchestrated songs about a highway in Brooklyn (The BQE). But the Sufjan of old has been at rest since Illinois.

Which might not be a bad thing. I complain a lot about the lack of new material from Sufjan, but that's because I, selfishly, want him to keep blowing my mind. There can be too much of a good thing, though; if Sufjan put out an album a year, I think we would be overloaded. Plus, you've gotta give the guy some credit - at least he's not been doing nothing for the last 4 years.

Recently, Sufjan has been touring the U.S. in support of The BQE (but of course, nowhere near Durham). My friends had the unbelievable privilege of seeing him in Cleveland, and my sister, brother-in-law, and unborn nephew will see him next week in Portland, Maine (I will never, ever let my nephew live down the fact that he gets to see Sufjan before I do. Well, maybe not see, but at least attend a concert. You know what I mean.) From the sounds of it, Sufjan is impressing once again with his quirky, awesome musical shenanigans.

The video above was posted to the web last week, having been filmed at one of the recent Sufjan stops. It's the performance of a brand new song, "There's Too Much Love." From the sounds of it, Sufjan might be exploring some more, shall we say, experimental sounds in his new stuff.

I was kind of afraid this was the direction he would be taking when I heard his "You Are the Blood" cover on the Dark was the Night compilation. I should say, I'm very biased towards Sufjan's acoustic, hushed songs, like "For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti," "Vito's Ordination Song," and "To Be Alone with You." Those songs have pulled me out of some bad times, and never fail to give me goosebumps, even sometimes bringing tears to my eyes. His jubilant, stuff, meanwhile, is still awesome, but sometimes requires a little bit more patience and the proper mood to really appreciate it. "There's Too Much Love" (and some of his other new stuff, according to my friends) seems to hint that Sufjan might be leaning more towards the latter type of songwriting.

But you know, I'm actually really digging "There's Too Much Love." The spastic interlude towards the end gets a little too crazy, but overall this is a really catchy song. Any other thoughts?

This is Durham (Fall)

(Photo, courtesy Takaaki Iwabu, is actually Durham. Eno River Park. Look it up.)

Tuesday, September the 8th, was the first day of fall quarter at Ohio University, and, effectively, the first time in 18 years that I did not go back to school in the fall. I thought it would be weirder than it was.

Funny thing happened the following Thursday, though. It was 68 degrees here in Durham. Yes, 68 degrees; colder than Athens and even, in fact, colder than Katie's current "home" in Detroit. I imagine it's the last time this year that Durham will be colder than Detroit.

Needless to say, there was a certain "fall air" about that day and it, well, warmed me. Admittedly, fall is one of my favorite times of the year; I love the temperature, I love the leaves falling, I love the excuse to wear jeans. I love Halloween. I love the lead-up to Thanksgiving. I love going back to school.

Oh, wait.

It is a funny thing about fall that is rather hard to pinpoint. I've never tried this experiment - nor will I ever - but if you asked 10 people what their favorite season of the year is, I would put money on at least six or seven of them saying fall. At least, it is my favorite season. I think it's Katie's favorite season, too. Various members of my family might agree as well. But why is it that we love fall? Is it the temperature? The leaves falling? The excuse to wear jeans? Or maybe it's Halloween? The lead-up to Thanksgiving?

No, my friends, I submit that the reason so many of us love the fall is simple: We love going back to school.

As hard as that may be to believe - and perhaps it's just that I, alone in my Durham apartment, am waxing a little on the nostalgic side of late - think of it this way: We are all trained to associate fall with beginnings. Why? Well, for most of us, the first 22 (or 18) falls of our lives (or at least the conscious ones) are spent going back to school, starting anew with a fresh grade, maybe fresh friends, perhaps a fresh environment. Others greet the autumnal beginning of school even more, either spending additional years as an undergrad, dedicating themselves to further degrees, or becoming an education professional. Or, you know, all three (I'm looking at you, Dad).

But even for those of us who don't languish in an educational environment, the fall culture still surrounds us: The kids go off to school. Soccer practice starts. College football is on TV. It is a new beginning. A fresh start.

You have to admit it: there's something fun about going back to school. Or at least living in the culture of it.

And so it is, with these thoughts on my mind, that I've reverted to my autumnal listening habits. Just what, you ask, do your autumnal listening habits look like? And why, you wonder, have you quite abruptly shifted from a discussion on school to a discussion on music? Good questions, the both of them. The short answer would be "awesome" and "because this is my blog, not yours." But there is a long answer, too. There's always a long answer.

The last four falls have been four of the most significant seasons in my life. The fall of my freshman year of college was maybe the most significant of all; few seasons in life feature as much change as the fall of freshman year of college. The falls of my sophomore, junior, and senior years each respectively carried their own twists, turns, and dashes of change as well; each ushered in a new year of school, a new status with friends, a new living scenario, and an overall new environment to adapt to.

Maybe it was because I spent so many of those days walking introspectively about Athens kicking at the fallen, dried leaves strewn across the bricks that those seasons felt so long. Each and every one of them. Felt like entire years in and of themselves.

Considering the great changes that fall brought about in college and the profound immensity by which each passed silently from early September to late November, its no big surprise that the soundtracks that carried me through each of those seasons would be so permanently and remarkably etched onto my brain. Indeed, each fall I discovered new artists, and in turn those artists painted a musical impression upon my brain of what fall is supposed to be. And so those songs came to represent fallen leaves. They came to represent cooler temperatures. They came to represent new beginnings.

My freshman year, it was Sigur Ros, Ryan Adams, My Morning Jacket. Sophomore year introduced Explosions in the Sky, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, The Decemberists, M. Ward, Nickel Creek, Ray LaMontagne, TV on the Radio. Fall of junior year welcomed the Avett Brothers, Band of Horses, Denison Witmer, and Josh Ritter. Then finally the first season of the last year ushered in Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver.

Whenever I listen to these artists, I feel a wave of nostalgia and memory wash over me, throwing me back onto those leaf-covered brick sidewalks that led to class, or onto my friend-saturated porch where we would watch the leaves fall off that tree between Gam and Tiffin Halls. I'm knocked back into the comforting times of yesteryear, those seasons where everything was fresh, where everything was still ahead of me.

Now here it is: mid-September, and I'm still in Durham. Classes have begun, and I'm still at work. The temperature is dropping, the leaves are starting to change, and I'm inside, sitting at a desk.

Such was the case that Thursday, with the 68-degree day. Overcast, windy, cool - typical fall stuff.

Driving home from work that day, I decided to listen to some Explosions in the Sky. The next day, in my office, I listened through M. Ward's catalog. Same with Josh Ritter, Ray LaMontagne, and Band of Horses. It was almost a natural happenstance; with the arrival of fall, so came the arrival of these artists that have so thoroughly represented the season into my listening habits. And it continued; this entire last week, it was one artist after another that I have either discovered or listened to heavily in the fall. The temperature wavered - in fact, it climbed back to 90 one day and dipped again to the high 60s another - but fall still hung in the air, the leaves still began to shift colors, and college football was still on TV. And so I have comforted myself with my fall music.

It sure does make me miss Athens. And my friends, too.

But you know, I've discovered a lot of new bands recently. The xx, out of the UK, are rocking my world right now. Same with jj, from Sweden. Then there's Megafaun, Bowerbirds, the Felice Brothers, the Duke & the King, and Joe Purdy. All of them, new to my music catalog, new to my music vocabulary. All of them soundtracking the seasonal change here in Durham.

It dawned on me that these bands - the xx, jj, Megafaun, and the like - will one day represent the fall of my first year in Durham. I will listen to them and my drives across the city, my quiet times at the Parkwood Lake or at Duke Gardens, and my exploration of new places and things - with leaves changing and falling - will flood back in a wave of nostalgia. They will come to be comfort bands just as the bands of falls past have. I might not look as fondly upon them as acts like M. Ward or Explosions in the Sky - after all, this is the "fall without Katie" - but they and the bands yet to be discovered in the coming months will still hold a special place in my music library and music memory, if only to represent my first fall in my new home.

Because just like the falls of the last four years, I'm in a new living scenario, with new friends and a new environment to adapt to. It is a new beginning, a new season, and with a fresh start, I still have everything ahead of me to look forward to.