For me this is a case of nostalgia for a classic album vs. present listening preferences. Generally speaking, my list tilts in favor of what I’m listening to most now, but once in a while I’ll pull something out a band I listened to back in high school or college and be surprised at how great they still sound (i.e. the Beautiful South, , Violent Femmes, Dinosaur Jr., etc.) . Sometimes I’ll pull someone out and realize how awful they always were (i.e. Circle Jerks, The Farm, certain Morrissey, etc.). It will be interesting to see in 10 years who I won’t care for anymore. Lambchop? The Hold Steady? Heaven forbid…
We’ll see how Stina fares, but first let’s talk about the new stuff:
Do Make Say Think –
Winter Hymn, Country Hymn, Secret Hymn 
Funny story. That’s my friend Jay Baird on the cover of this album, so obviously,
Winter Hymn, Country Hymn, Secret Hymn gets some immediate bonus points; however, those bonus points get taken away right off the bat because, as Jay tells it, it’s a picture/painting of him sleeping on the bus while the Do Makes passed the Grand Canyon. Apparently, instead of waking him up, they thought it’d be funny to let him sleep through it and memorialize this moment on their next album cover. Jay sometimes describes these guys as kind of jerks (he’s got some pretty funny stories), and other times he says they’re alright. I guess it’s a little of both, so I’ll call it a wash. Usually, I try and not let the artists’ personalities affect my enjoyment of their music anyway. And that’s good because even if these guys were jerks, their music would still be some heavy-ass shit. My personal feeling is that these guys are light years ahead of the rest of the “post-rock” pack. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Mogwai and some Explosions, but they don’t even come close to doing what the Do Makes do or making what the Do Makes make.
Winter Hymn, Country Hymn, Secret Hymn reveals these guys at the top of their game. First of all, there are those amazing horns, which showcase both the band’s great arrangements and some really interesting playing. Then, there are the two drummers who create all kinds of polyrhythmic, crazy time signature stuff--stuff that I won’t even pretend to understand but still sounds cool as crap. These guys also blend acoustic instrumentation and electronics just about perfectly. And finally, rather than relying on the linear quiet, medium loud, really loud dynamics that their contemporaries do, Do May Say Think keep you guessing as to where they’re headed next. Just listen to the decrescendos on “Outer, Inner & Secret” if you want to know what I’m talking about.
So far Canada takes a healty lead over Sweden.
Stina Nordenstam -
And She Closed Her Eyes
I haven’t listened to Stina in quite a while, but back in 95, she was one of my favorites. She was the kind of artist of whom I had fantasies about being her boyfriend. She was also one of those artists I was obsessed with enough that I tracked down just about everything I could lay my hands on—her older album, rare singles, compilations, collaborations, etc. When her next album,
Dynamite, came out I rushed out to buy it, only to be disappointment on my first few listens. It was one of those cases of where I wanted it to sound exactly like her last album and was disappointed it didn’t. It was dissonant and brooding whereas
And She Closed Her Eyes was sweet and lyrical and a little jazzy.
Dynamite still remains a kind of hard listen for me, but I think I now understand why she changed direction so much. I think she simply wanted to counter the sound that had glassy eyed boys sending her letters about the beauty of “Little Star” (I don’t know if this actually happened, but I for one came dangerously close). The word I would use to describe this sound is “precious”. It’s the word that came to mind fastest when I contemplated listening to
And She Closed Her Eyes again (it’s also the word I would use to describe a lot of Belle and Sebatian’s material). It’s not exactly a negative word, but I do find that most of the stuff I used to listen to that could be described in this way, I simply don’t anymore. It’s the third category (in addition to the two mentioned above). There’s the stuff that still sounds good, the stuff that doesn’t, and then there’s the stuff that you’re not sure about because you just don’t ever feel inspired to listen to it anymore.
In any case, I was glad for the opportunity to listen to
And She Closed Her Eyes again to see how it stood up after so many years, and I listened to it the way I often did then—in bed about to go to sleep. My first reaction was surprise. The first half of the album is actually a little darker than I remember it. The song “Viewed from the Spire” has this really groovy but kind of sinister vibe part. And while “When Debibie’s Back From Texas” and “Fireworks” have moments that could be described as “precious,” you could probably just as easily call them beautiful (Sweden scores!). I fell asleep sometime around “Little Star”. When I got up the next morning, I was excited about listening to the rest of the album, but in the cold light of a Michigan Sunday, it sounded again like I was originally worried it would—a little too sentimental, a little too dear. It’s one thing to have a sweet, little girl’s voice, but it’s another to surround that voice with boy’s choirs and soprano saxophone parts. Maybe the first half of this album is better than the second, or maybe this kind of album just sounds better when falling asleep. In any case, I think I’ll put it on again—and sooner than later--but in the end, it just didn’t finish strongly enough for the win. I guess it just didn't want it badly enough.
Another victory goes to the Canadians.
