She Toes the Line

Luna – Bewitched vs. The Band – The Band

Luna’s Bewitched could certainly contribute a few tracks to the soundtrack to my first few years of college, and it turns out there’s still a lot to recommend the album. I appreciate that it’s mood-malleable or mood-neutral, a.k.a. enjoyable in a variety of states and situations. And there are some hilarious lines: “I had to be drunk just to look at your face / that was alright by me.”

I’ve never been wholly sold on Bewitched, though, and while it’s largely taste, here’s why: I would characterize it, with the main exception of the title track, as somewhat aloof. I’m not looking for consistently heart-wrenching, but I find myself favoring a bit less sheen and a bit more substance. There’s no one song on the album that lyrically or sonically nails it for me, or at least not in the way that makes me anxious to put it on a mix CD or playlist for a friend. Also, much of the second half of the album makes me feel lethargic. It’s just so even, so lulling.

The Band’s The Band wins hands down, partly because as soon as I started listening to the album, I felt a familiar disappointment that it would end eventually and I’d have to go about my business free of The Band. I only listen to this album occasionally when playing cards or cleaning house, but it makes whatever I’m doing better. Instead of being mood-malleable, it is restorative. (For anyone interested in drawing a contrast with the emotional resonance I find lacking on Bewitched, consider “Whispering Pines” on The Band, for one.)

On a larger scale, listening to The Band teaches both rock’s history and future. You see not just the emotional contours of the lyricist’s current life, but also larger cultural and historical contours. There’s a generosity of approach here, a desire to show that much of what we suppose divides us can perhaps bring us together. Not to get all hopeful or anything. It's The Band talking.