Tag Archive - Mountain Goats

Wardrobe

I’m not normally one who gives much thought, time, energy, or money to augmenting his wardrobe. Over the past year, however, I have found two exceptional pieces of clothing that demanded purchase.

Both are t-shirts.

First, in honor of my breakfast making, E’s obsession with, and Halloween dressing, as Darth Vader, together with E’s choice of an “I am your father” Father’s Day card, there was this:

Then, in honor of… well.. my singular focus when it comes to music, there was this:

I commend them both for your consideration, and for your further insight into the man behind the blog.

Enjoy.

Joy

For those of you all up into joy today for advent, here’s the Kirk family’s favorite joy song nowadays:

California Song

In case you’re wondering (I know you were), this is the Mountain Goats song that is currently occupying a large part of my days’ mental soundtrack.

California Song

It’s from a 2007 Zoop show, which is available in its entirety here.

Can you see that young star overhead? It’s the one that designed my undoing….

tMG Church 4-14-2011

When the Church of the Mountain Goats gathered in Baltimore on April 14, pastor John preached a phenomenal sermon.

[Here, jrdk is being a bit tongue-in-cheek, please don't write the management complaining about his ecclesiology. --ed.]

After the song Damn These Vampires (which does use the word damn, but really, if you’re going to wish for God to damn something shouldn’t it be the forces of darkness that destroy people’s lives?), he introduced the next song as follows:

This song is about how if you have survived some personal trauma–which I’m afraid that the great secret of life is you have.

That’s the thing. There’s a line that’s either Salinger or Beckett I’m not quite sure, but it’s “You’re on earth, buddy, there’s no cure for that.”…Beckett…

What binds us, especially those of us who get really into music, is that we share some kind of wound. And we sort of come to shows or write songs in order to open the wound back up and watch it bleed awhile. And sort of… and hang out together and say to one another, “It’s ok that it looks like that. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Right?

At the same time you harbor a dream of being like the normal people who you imagine exist who probably don’t–right so… And you think, “O some day I will be free of this wound that I carry. This song is called, “Never Quite Free.”

If you listen to it, there is riotous cheering when he says that the great secret of life is that we all endure trauma; there are shouts when he talks about gathering to open the wound and watch it bleed. They cheer when he says it’s ok, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Take note, young preacher: the celebration comes, in large part, in the gathering sharing the brokenness together. The great preachers don’t pretend to hold it all together, to have the perfect embodiment of easy answers.

The great preachers acknowledge that the brokenness of the world is their brokenness as well.

Also note: he preached his sermon in 1 minute, and 1/3 of that was an illustration.

ὁ ἀναγινώσκων νοείτω

Music FYI

I know that you are worried.

Does Kirk listen to anything other than The Mountain Goats?

To set your minds at ease, here is a list of other music I’m currently digging in my non-Apple-product MP3 Player:

I am enjoying them all, but not yet ready to evangelize for them as I am for the Goats.

All Eternals Deck

For the past several weeks, I have been streaming All Eternals Deck at every opportunity. The new Mountain Goats album is officially released today for us consumers to go about our business of consumption.

So go get it. $5 to download the whole thing. Seriously. Get on it.

This album continues the musical trajectory from both the last Mountain Goats album, Life of the World to Come, and John Darnielle’s side project, “Undercard” which he produced under the rubric of The Extra Lens.

What I mean by this is that Darnielle’s songwriting has increasingly moved from being so lyrically driven that the music hardly matters to richly orchestrated music that is, itself, a voice in the song.

Like all of Darnielle’s music, the songs on All Eternals Deck repay careful listening and attention to the lyrics. On the one hand, this album’s entrance into the world of vampire mythology can be heard as simply playful riffs on a fad that I, for one, hope will pass without much more ado. But upon closer inspection, these songs aren’t ultimately about vampire bites and some sort of demonic antipathy for the song Hotel California (although the latter is a particularly amusing moment).

Wooden idols. Aviator shades. These are trinkets from Crusades. Hmmm…

As with Undercard, Mountain Goat regulars will be pleasantly surprised at the varying styles of the songs on this latest album. High Hawk Season is throw-back in its harmonies and vocal accompaniment–underlaying typical Darniellian lyrics.

So, even though I still think that We Shall All be Healed is the greatest album ever produced, All Eternals Deck is a must-listen for all Mountain Goats aficionados, and a great entry point for folks who want an entree into the work of one of the greatest lyricists of the current generation of songwriters.

All Eternals Deck

The Mountain Goats’ new album, All Eternals Deck, is available for audio streaming on NPR.

My thoughts on the album, no doubt, coming sometime soon.

Goats on Mt. Letterman

“See that young man who dwells inside his body like an uninvited guest”:

Mountain Goat and Sir Arne’s Treasure

Last night promised to be an auspicious evening. Not only was my man-crush John Darnielle, of Mountain Goats fame, going to be performing, he was going to be playing in the Castro Theater. Man crush + the Castro = Good Times.

The San Francisco Film Society had commissioned him to compose and perform a new soundtrack to be played with the 1919 Swedish silent film, “Sir Arne’s Treasure.”

In addition to being geeked and otherwise excited about the event, I was curious to see how well Darnielle could pull it off. From the clips I’ve seen of him in concert, he’s a free-flow performer, taking time between songs, often, to interact with the crow and often taking his time moving between instruments. Accompanying a film would be a very different animal. And, after the film, he confessed that this was the first time he had been nervous about a performance in a long, long time.

The other thing I wondered was what sort of style he would use. Silent films have their own genre of melodramatic accompaniment that’s not exactly the stuff of Mountain Goats lore.

So how did it go?

To be honest, it took me several songs to not be distracted by the strange conjunction of old silent movie with the contemporary, standard fare Mountain Goats style music Darnielle was performing. I would say that he wasn’t so much performing a soundtrack for the movie as singing a soundtrack that was inspired by it. He didn’t confine his songs to the scenes or acts of the film, and at times was singing rather melancholy music during humorous slap-stick moments.

But about four songs in I started appreciating the way that the music was actually capturing the drama in a way that the speedy-action silent film wasn’t doing for me on its own. I started to realize that the “darkness with redemption” motif of Darnielle’s writings was perfect for the film.

For me, however, the show really took off when Darnielle was joined on stage by an electric guitarist, bassist, and drummer. That would be John Vanderslice on the electric, btw. Somehow, the sound worked a bit better for me as an accompaniment (and, yes, the chemistry was awesome), and the lyrics were more clearly drawing us into the world of the film’s love and heartbreak and self-sacrificial attainment of justice.

As the film drew to its close, it become increasingly clear to me why the SFFS might have chosen Darnielle to perform this piece.

The film demands of its watchers that the story be seen as unfolding under the close scrutiny of God’s own eye, such that the plot will not be resolved until all is rectified according to God’s justice. The self-sacrifice that makes the final resolution possible is another nod toward a traditional model of redemption through sacrifice.

These are analogous to the themes that suffuse Darnielle’s own work. Like the film, Darnielle’s lyrics are often a dark mix of suffering and hope, of death and redemption. Even though he was not singing the song of the film, Darnielle’s music was typical in its employment of those themes–so often his, anyway, and now reinspired by the visual backdrop of Sir Arne’s Treaasure.

So unlike some, I don’t wonder what were supposed to extract from the pairing, I just wonder what it’s going to take for me to be able to see it again.

Undercard

On Thursday I received Undercard, the latest project by Mountain Goats front man John Darnielle, but this time under the name The Extra Lens and created in collaboration with Frank Bruno.

I spent way too much time in the car over the past couple of days, which has given me a chance to listen through the album three or four times. Ok, so, I may have taken the long way to work on purpose… er… to avoid traffic and make sure I got through the whole thing before getting to my destination.

A Darnielle album is like a short story collection. You are going to be hearing stories put in verse. These stories are fraught with symbolism and meaning. I am once again reminded of one of my favorite Flannery O’Connor quotes:

A story is a way to say something that can’t be said any other way, and it takes every word in the story to say what the meaning is.”

In the case of Undercard, the story collection is more like a Tobias Wolf montage than, say, Dubliners. The advertisements for Undercard were characteristically self-effacing: “…the project began as a potential home for any song John wrote that had a) more than three chords or b) a bridge.” But the musical complexity of this album isn’t merely that there are more instruments, more complex tunes, or “a bridge.” There is some of that.

But what makes this album so great is that the diversity of musical styles is so broad that it sounds at times like it could be a mix CD representing four or five different bands. That’s what I mean by the work being more like a Wolf compilation and less like Dubliners.

With each passing song you find yourself in a completely new setting, in stories that intentionally span over 75 years, numerous countries, and with that corresponding musical styles. From the sorrowful, piano accompanied and accordion-tinged, “In Germany Before the War,” to “Rockin’ Rockin’ Twilight of the Gods” with its 70s esque guitar accents, to the driving-rock lead guitar of “Adultery,” to “Cruiserweights” with its more Mtn Goat-esque lyrically driven feel, the album takes you all over the place. And that’s a good thing.

What about the lyrics themselves?

As happens often in Darnielle’s work, the stories somtimes take time to sink in and make themselves understood. And sometimes, the storyline is clear enough but what they communicate isn’t clear until you put the lyrics together with the title. For example, one song tells the somewhat troubling storyline of a guy who gets into an accident en route to check into a hotel with his neighbor’s wife. That’s one level of the story. Then you read the title, “How I Left the Ministry,” and you’re sent back, first with, “Yeah, that’d do it…” and then also to think about the tones in which the story is told. Is this a celebration or a lament?

One thing I love about Darnielle’s work is that he is never going to b.s. you about the painful ramifications of the decisions we make. Too often in television, story, and music, adulterous affairs are told as joyful moments of self-discovery with little overarching indication of the destruction such actions work. “Adultery”, the first track on this album, will have no such sentimentalizing.

You can read more and listen to a preview at the NPR website.

You can also stream it at the Merge records cite.

If you’re really cool, you can grab a copy on vinyl.

Or, if you’re only moderately old school, you can order the CD.

Page 1 of 212»