Photobucket
Photobucket
Photobucket
Photobucket
Photobucket
Showing posts with label Okkervil River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Okkervil River. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

I will NOT write an essay about Arcade Fire winning Album of the Year.

The title of this, that's what I said to myself Sunday night after seeing Twitter explode (both positively and negatively) regarding Arcade Fire winning the Grammy for Album of the Year for their 2010 record The Suburbs.

It's going to be too overdone. There will be nothing left to say. All of my music critic friends are already making snarky jokes about it. Those were the justifications I whispered to myself.

See, on Sunday night, I live tweeted the Grammys without actually watching the Grammys. Part of this was because I like live-tweeting, part of it was because I don't like watching the Grammys, and part of it was a sort of social experiment, devised to see how much of the pomp and circumstance can come through in a parade of like-minded people speaking in 140 characters about the same event.

Hit the break for more.

Monday, December 7, 2009

No, I Am Not High

One of my favorite bands is Okkervil River. Discovering them first through their 2007 album The Stage Names, I likedit enough to work my way through their back catalog. I really enjoyed the way frontman Will Sheff wrote, lyrically. A track like "The President's Dead," which was released as a single late in 2005, took both a widescreen and microscopic view to the reactions towards the assassination of a President - any President. It had a subtle depth to it that deftly related the issues that would surround an event of that magnitude without turning into melodrama. And it was a good song, too.

The album that touched me the most was their 2005 album Black Sheep Boy. Loosely, it was a concept album based on the "black sheep boy" character, inspired by a 1967 song of the same name by Tim Hardin. Lyrically, it may be the record I most relate to in my entire library. Sheff sang with furious emotion about hearing of a female friend's abuses with her father on "Black," pained a simple, yet nuanced look into unrequited love on "Song of Our So-Called Friend," and created interesting fairy-tale allegories on "A King and A Queen" and "A Stone."