Counting Crows - Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings

The latest Counting Crows album suffers from Goldilocks Syndrome — parts of it are too hard, parts are too soft and the rest is just about right. The concept here was that the record's first half represents the "Saturday nights," with hard-rocking and much mayhem, while the rest calls to mind "Sunday mornings," and the gentler comedowns they provide. The idea would have worked better over two discs, but presented as one album of fourteen songs it seems less like a high concept than a purposeless and jarring shift in tone.

That said, there is a lot to like here. Once I got past the uncharacteristic noisiness of the early tracks, I was able to appreciate the songcraft. In fact, I favor the album's first a half a bit more than the sleepier second half, where the melodies are a bit harder to pick out. Measured against the Crows' four other albums, I see this one toward the bottom, battling it out with Recovering the Satellites for last place. But that's more a testament to how exceptional I find the other three. This is a keeper, just not up to the standards of their best work.

Into the Wild

Date: March 28
Location: Clifton Living Room

There is so much working for this movie, and one big thing working against it. First the positives. The acting is uniformly excellent, with Emile Hirsch delivering a haunting performance that should have been recognized by the Academy — he is alternately charming, obnoxious and desperate, and pulls off one of those DeNiro-esque body transformations that makes the film's last scenes particularly distubing. Hal Holbrook, Vince Vaughn and Catherine Keener (among others) flesh out their supporting roles superbly, painting a portrait of American life outside the spotlight and making McCandless' fate even more poignant. The photography is lovely, especially in long shots of the Alaskan wilderness that drive home just how far this young man went to escape civilization. Eddie Vedder's original songs are lovely, and were wrongly overlooked by the Academy.

So what's the negative? Sean Penn, simultaneously the film's biggest asset and it's fatal flaw. Penn does a wonderful job shaping the story, putting us in McCandless' shoes (or bare feet), telling a sad story without losing sight of the spirit behind the young man's journey. But he wields his camera like a blunt object. I really appreciate cinematic masterminds like Scorsese, Paul Thomas Anderson and the Coen Brothers when I see a showy director fall flat. Penn throws in every trick in the book — freeze frames, slow- and fast-motion, jump cuts, you name it. But why? The story is most effective when he just settles in and shows us two people talking, or delivers a breathtaking overhead shot of a small bus lost in a sea of mountains. The show-offy stuff distracts and detracts from an otherwise special movie.

Shelby Lynne - Just a Little Lovin'

I forgot to include this CD in my recap of 2008 so far. That's appropriate because it's mostly forgettable. Shelby Lynne, who has put out three exceptional albums of original material in the past 5-6 years, chooses to pay tribute to Dusty Springfield on her latest record and she turns in some lovely, sleepy renditions of Springfield classics such as the title song, I Don't Want to Hear it Anymore, I Only Want to Be With You, Breakfast in Bed and more. Lynne has a great voice, to be sure, but she's simply no match for Dusty Springfield. I discovered Springfield a year or so ago (it was Tift Merritt comparisons, in fact, that led me to her) and she simply blew me away. Her music makes me wish I was a teenager in the 60s, discovering it for the first time. Soulful, sexy, rich and resonant... it's the sort of thing you listen to and think 'why does anyone else even bother?'

Anyway, back to Shelby Lynne. She just chose a far too tough act to follow. I admire the attempt, and the album is a very easy listen, but I look forward to her returning to the original country soul material she does so well.

The music of 2008

With a couple high-profile releases (Counting Crows and R.E.M.) on the way over the next two weeks, I thought this would be a good time to catch up with the CDs I've purchased so far in 2008. I plan to review all of my music purchases this year.

I don't feel as qualified to "review" albums as I do films, due to my lack of musical ability, I suppose, and the fact that I've never studied it in any formal way. However, it's a safe bet that I've spent more hours of my life listening to music than watching movies, and I definitely know what I like.

Here, then, are my first reviews of 2008. I'll compile them in one post because this is a catch-up effort. From now on I'll blog one at a time as I do the movies.

Of the four CDs I've purchased so far this year, two are duds and two are excellent. First, the duds.

Kate Nash - Made of Bricks

There was a lot of buzz surrounding this album early in the year, very similar to the praise heaped on Lily Allen in early 2007. The comparison is a valid one, to a point. Nash is brash and British, like Allen, but this album is nowhere near as fun or interesting as Allright, Still. I was ready to turn it off before it was over. I always give an album a few listens before really deciding how I feel about it, but I literally couldn't get through this thing twice. It's not offensive in any way — quite the opposite, it's just boring.

Sheryl Crow - Detours

I have a love-hate relationship with Sheryl Crow. The Globe Sessions is a teriffic album... I love everything on it. And I'm discovering I hate pretty much everything else she's done. The strong reviews for this album (and the fact that it is her first work since being dumped by Lance Armstrong, usually a good sign) had me optimistic. But it's a mish-mash of hippie protest songs, jilted lover anthems and unconvincing rockers. Once you have a certain number of CDs (I'm up to 400 or so) you ask yourself "Is there any reason I would ever play this instead of one of the other 399?" and in this case, the answer is no.

So, those are the duds. I'll make back some of my money selling them on Amazon. Now, on to the winners...

Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

Now we're talking! Another much-hyped act, but one that lives up to its billing. This delightful album is a cross between Graceland-era Paul Simon and modern punk. African rhythms supplement guitar-bass-drums power pop in a decidedly low-key, minimalist package. Few of the songs cross the 3-minute barrier and they're all catchy as hell... this album is a reminder that one of the best things music can be is fun.

Tift Merritt - Another Country

Every once in awhile I stumble upon an artist who joins the pantheon — the list of artists I treasure above all others. A list that includes Elvis Costello, Ben Folds, Lucinda Williams, The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Lyle Lovett, R.E.M., Rufus Wainwright... and more, but not many more. In recent years, Josh Rouse and Stew have found their way on to that list. And with this release, Tift Merritt officially joins them.

I adore her first two albums (one of which she signed for me after playing as Costello's opening act in Miami) but this release cements her status as one of the finest singer-songwriters working today. Her second album, Tambourine, was a genre-hopping shot of whiskey, full of Memphis horns and big vocals. It's bold, brilliant and one of the best things in my collection. Another Country is something altogether different — written and recorded after a year of soul-searching in Paris, it's a much quieter and deeper record. Merritt's voice is exquisite, somehow combining the gorgeous purity of Alison Krauss with the passionate grit of Lucinda Williams. And her songs are universally wonderful, from the simple country classic-to-be 'Hopes Too High' to the slow ache of 'Keep You Happy,' there isn't a weak track here. This is an early favorite for best album of the year.

Sometimes an artist just hits you right where you live. It's fascinating how different music does that for different people. Somebody out there is blown away by the Kate Nash album I couldn't get through twice, and no doubt somebody out there is selling Tift Merritt's Another Country to a used CD shop for $5 as I type this. But as I said at the start, I know what I like. And this I like.

My Kid Could Paint That

Date: March 14, 2008
Location: Clifton Living Room

As if we needed more proof that the Oscar documentary selection committee has its collective head up it ass! This extraordinary film is not just the best documentary released last year, it's easily one of the best films overall. It starts out as a puff piece on a 4-year-old girl who paints abstract works that sell to serious collectors for tens of thousands of dollars. It ends up as a powerful, sad and provocative exploration of art, the media and parenting.

Filmmaker Amir Bar-Lev walks the finest line imagineable, inserting himself into his film at a key turning point without losing focus on the true subjects. He manages to make a statement about the creative roles not just of the little girl and her parents, but of a documentary filmmaker, a print journalist, a TV journalist, and the masses who are so quick to both celebrate and tear down those who fascinate us. I watched this on DVD this morning but didn't put it back in the mail to NetFlix because I already want to watch it again.

2 Days in Paris

Date: March 11
Location: Clifton Living Room

It's impossible to watch this film and not compare it to Before Sunset. As in Sunset, Julie Delpy (who wrote, directed, edited and even scored this film) plays a romantically-confused French woman wandering through Paris conversing with her snarky American boyfriend. Her parents even return, playing her parents, just as they did in Sunset.

The problem is, just about any film suffers in comparison to Richard Linklater's classic, so a film that so brazenly mimics it really doesn't stand a chance. Delpy and Adam Goldberg do their best with the often-clever script, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was with the wrong guy. I had no investment in the romance, and the neuroses grew old rather quickly. The plot was also contrived — Delpy's character keeps running into old boyfriends — in a way the Linklater film (and its "prequel" Before Sunrise) never did.

I like both of these actors quite a bit and would love to see them (together or separately) in a film that isn't a blatant copy of one of my all-time favorites.

Best Albums of 2007

10. Lyle Lovett and His Large Band - It's Not Big It's Large

This album was a return to form of sorts for Lovett, after a long dry spell following The Road to Ensanada. It hasn't held up as well as I thought it might, but it's still a great listen with a couple of songs that rank among his finest.

9. M.I.A. - Kala

The definition of a "grower" — I liken this album to a sore tooth that you can't keep from probing with your tongue. It's loud, repetitive, assaulting... and I couldn't help but listen to it over and over again. I've never been into world music or electronica, and this album is a fusion of both, but I find something irresistable in M.I.A.'s electric delivery and her addictive beats. It's a great "dance" album but at the same time feels like a powerful ground-up political anthem.

8. Fountains of Wayne - Traffic and Weather

Another collection of simple gems by the best songwriting team since Lennon and McCartney (or at least John and Taupin). They have a gift for turning the banality of daily life (waiting in line at the DMV, driving down I-95 to meet your girlfriend, searching for luggage at the baggage claim) into pop poetry. This album doesn't reach the heights of Welcome Interstate Managers, but it's a worthy addition to their teriffic catalog.

7. Amy Winehouse - Back to Black

It's a shame Winehouse is such a mess, but I suppose she fits into a long line of fine artists whose personal lives were drug-addled disasters. Here's hoping she cleans herself up and continues to put out music as wonderful as this bluesy, soulful throwback. Its Motown-via-21st century English party girl vibe is beyond cool, and the songwriting is truly exceptional. So, too, are her vocals — who would guess a woman whose hair weighs more than the rest of her body could have pipes like this?

6. Josh Rouse - Country Mouse City House

I'm convinced that Josh Rouse is incapable of making bad music. Through seven full-length albums I've yet to come across a song I'd even consider skipping. This latest effort is a low-key affair, recorded over a few days in Spain, featuring nine laid-back ditties, two or three of which count among his best work. He's one of those songwriters who comes up with such perfect melodies that you can't help but wonder how nobody could have stumbled upon them before. In a fair world, he'd be winning Grammys and selling out arenas. But I'm happy to have him (along with Ben Folds and a few others) in that 'secret treasure' category.

5. The Shins - Wincing the Night Away

The Shins are the sort of other-worldly band that seems to play by their own rules and put out a kind of music that nobody really ever came up with before (I'd put them in a category with Belle & Sebastian and The Smiths in that regard). Several years ago, Zach Braff doomed them by having Natalie Portman, in Garden State, declare that their music would change your life. No it won't. But I can see why a kid in the throes of teeange existentialism would think so. This album is their best yet and it offers new delights with every listen.

4. Lily Allen - Alright, Still

Absolutely the most fun I've had listening to an album in years. The alchemy of Allen's Cockney-accented vocals blended with her sunshine melodies and ska beats makes for the musical equivalent of a banana split. It's such a delightful evocation of a particular time and place in a brash young woman's life — every time I listen to this CD I find myself longing to go to London and pub crawl with the cast of a Nick Hornby novel.

3. Lucinda Williams - West

Williams is in the unenviable position of having to compete with her own peerless catalog with each new release. West doesn't stack up to Car Wheels on a Gravel Road or her self-titled classic, but neither does anything else on this list. What it does have are six or seven of the best songs I heard this year, performed and produced to perfection. It has one misstep (a 7-minute blues stomp that loses my interest at the halfway point) that drops it to #3, but Williams long ago cemented her status as one of the finest ever songwriters, and this album is further confirmation.

2. Bruce Springsteen - Magic

You have to hand it to Bruce — 58 years old and putting out his third teriffic album in a row. This is a streak to rival Bob Dylan's current run, which is high praise indeed. Magic is the best of the bunch — a perfect blend of his anthemic Born to Run style with the introspective power of Devils & Dust. He has a few songs here that are directly or indirectly about the Bush administration and the war in Iraq, and he manages to make them powerful, poignant and also damn catchy. Perhaps the most impressive is 'Long Walk Home,' in which Springsteen bemoans how far off track Bush has taken this country. The final verse is particularly gripping:

My father said "Son, we're lucky in this town,
It's a beautiful place to be born.
It just wraps its arms around you,
Nobody crowds you and nobody goes it alone"

"Your flag flyin' over the courthouse
Means certain things are set in stone.
Who we are, what we'll do and what we won't"

It's gonna be a long walk home

Yes it is. But meaningful albums like this one will make it an easier journey.

1. Rufus Wainwright - Release the Stars

This is getting a little boring. Rufus Wainwright puts out an album and it hits #1 on my year-end album list. This year I struggled a bit and thought about going with Bruce or Lucinda, even Lily Allen or The Shins. But I kept coming back to Wainwright's latest opus. Following his epic two-part Want albums, Release the Stars is a relatively modest affair. As modest as any collection of pop operettas (poperettas?) lavishly adorned with strings, horns and choirs can be, anyway. What brings me back to Wainwright again and again, and his albums back to my #1 spot, is his peerless songcraft, of course, but also the reckless abandon with which he pours his heart out on tape. His is the only work I can think of that has brought little old stoic me to the brink of tears, and on more than one occasion. The highest compliment I can pay to Wainwright is that he's the most cinematic musician I've ever heard, and this is another release worthy of the biggest of screens.

Margot at the Wedding

Date: March 4
Location: Clifton Living Room

I'm glad movies like this are being made, and I'm glad writer/director Noah Baumbach is interested in making them. I'm just not so sure I want to watch them. It's talky, raw, darkly funny and (to borrow a phrase I heard from an elderly woman following The English Patient) "very European." Nicole Kidman does wonderful work as the deeply flawed title character, a woman who shows affection by mistreating her loved ones. She and Jennifer Jason Leigh, playing her sister, have great chemistry and their scenes feel painfully real. Also memorable is newcomer Zane Pais, playing Kidman's son, and shining in some achingly uncomfortable scenes. It's all very well done, but how much fun is it to watch unlikeable people attack each other for 90 minutes? Some, but not a lot.