Shorthand for Nothing

Harvey Danger are my favorite, favorite band, and I have written about them a few times. They sadly broke up in 2009, but that is no reason not to listen to them! Let’s move onward.

Where Have All The Merrymakers Gone?
This is their first album, and it is the one you may have heard. The single is called Flagpole Sitta. I have always thought the title is pretty appropriate for the tone of the album, at least partly because lyricist and vocalist Sean Nelson is the sort of person who would be concerned with that sort of thing. It is less polished than the other albums, but in a very appropriate way. This is an album about departures and reflection. I am not entirely convinced lo-fi is the term I want here, but it’s got a simple sound with pretty memories, beautiful vocals, and lyrics which are hopeful and nostalgic and sad. It is simple and straightforward and makes me happy. If you like your indie rock simple and nostalgic, you could do no better than this album.

King James Version
In contrast, the King James Version is a complex and sarcastic exploration of faith and skepticism and alienation. Polished, self-aware, and snarky, this album has a lot of energy and a lot of really great moments. Mostly it is a restless album, from Carjack Fever suggesting that we “empty all the minibars and leave this town in flames” to Sad Sweetheart of the Rodeo’s tale of its titular heroine and her life of corporate drudgery. There is a lot of dissatisfaction and restlessness expressed here in a lot of different ways, because Sean Nelson is excellent at capturing those subtle nuances of things. It closes with The Same As Being In Love, which is one of my favorite Harvey Danger songs and certainly my favorite closing track. If you like guitars and energetic well-constructed rock albums, you probably want this one first.

Little By Little…
This album came five years later and represents quite the departure stylistically, from the guitar rock of KJV to a more mellow, piano-driven sound. (It is also available for free as a download at their website, so you have no excuse for not listening. At all. This is free music, completely free, and it is a really good album. That is free.) The pianos give it a more mature sound, and lends itself nicely to an album which is darker and, if not exactly brooding, at least a little bleaker. (It also makes one of the happiest songs on the planet, Happiness Writes White, even prettier.) There are songs about record collections, stalkers, shattered relationships, and dying by what you live by. Despite this it ends on an optimistic note in Diminishing Returns, about finding something tangible in a world of -isms. It seems to say: This will all make sense one day, so just hang on. The perfect album for people who like introspective albums, and especially for people who like to fall in love with songs about someone who has fallen in love with their music collection.

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Hello! It is time for another edition of Rob Mason Tells You What To Listen To! In this edition we will explore The Long Winters’ discography. They are making a new album so now is the time to catch up on all their stuff and pretend you know all about the Seattle music scene!

The Long Winters are pretty appropriately named. There are songs about the first sign of winter and songs about waiting all winter and songs about springtime. It always feels like there is a long winter involved, is what I’m saying. Fronted by endearingly crazed mountain man John Roderick, the lyrics are frequently clever, often whimsical, and always pretty. There are five tracks to be downloaded and loved right here.

The Worst You Can Do Is Harm
Their first album is called The Worst You Can Do Is Harm. If you click the clicky you will see it is described it as being “full of ghosts and shipwrecked relationships.” It is an album about being well-meaning, about having a place to call home, about running away, and about making mistakes. It is not very optimistic: it’s a record full of disasters, and sometimes you can’t pick up the pieces.

There are some gems on this album. I really enjoy “Carparts,” “Unsalted Butter,” and “Scent of Lime”–the last of which features some beautiful harmony vocals from Sean Nelson. There is not a track I don’t enjoy, though the opener, “Give Me A Moment,” can drag some. Yet this is probably the weakest Long Winters album. It feels uncertain. There is a definite sound but it’s not quite sure where it’s going. It’s like the first few weeks of winter, when it’s warm one day and snowing the next and you’re just not sure what to make of it.

I remember reading an interview with John Roderick (I do not remember where, but it was really good) about the meaning of the title. It’s kind of an answer to the question “Well, what’s the worst that could happen?”–the worst that could happen is you could seriously ruin something forever. The title appears in the song “Scent of Lime:” “The worst you can do is harm / Waiting for the other shoe to fall / And shouting from your car at an empty road.”

There’s lots of little moments like that on the album, but mostly it’s rough. It’s worth having, but check out the others first, unless you really like listening in chronological order. This is definitely a debut album.

When I Pretend To Fall
When I Pretend To Fall is definitely the most upbeat of the three albums, and undeniably fun. This is an album which has at its emotional core the idea of spring coming at the end of a long winter, and an album which has probably the best description of anything that I have read, anywhere. No, seriously:

This is our new record. It’s made of downtown right as the sun comes out after it’s been raining and a little bit of three a.m. city bus in from the airport. There are several big fights between people who love each other that end with both people breaking into song and someone in a tee-shirt with rolled-up sleeves playing a sax solo. Also, there are friends coming to the rescue and there are other friends who don’t want to be rescued and there are a few friends that do want to be rescued but don’t want to have to ask.

I can’t do better than that.

The heart of this album is “Cinnamon,” which is a really beautiful and happy song. It’s just so hopeful, and it is made all the more poignant by being followed by “Bride and Bridle,” a song that is about how sometimes time isn’t long enough to put the past behind you. And then later on there’s “It’ll Be A Breeze” which is about absence. Then there’s an important moment in the song “Stupid,” where the title is sung: “She laughs when I pretend to fall.” It’s about doing stupid things for love, but in a hopeful way, which certainly captures the soul of this album pretty nicely.

It closes on a slightly darker note with “Nora,” which tells a story of different expectations coming into conflict. It’s a perfect note for closing the album, to make it all seem a little uneasy in retrospect, the way a conclusion ought to do.

This album is really good. If you like your music upbeat and irrepressibly cheerful without being credulous, this is a perfect album. If you like albums that feel like seeing green grass finally growing through the snow, you should probably order it as soon as possible.

Putting the Days to Bed
Putting the Days to Bed is the newest album and it is also the sleepiest. Appropriately so! This is an album which is about trying to come to terms with regret. Some things weren’t meant to last; some things were meant to last but don’t; some things weren’t meant to last no matter how much you think they were. It’s not entirely depressing but it is certainly resigned, but wistful. Perhaps nostalgic is the best word.

So to keep with this wintry theme, this is an album that takes place in the dead of winter–as the song “Fire Island, AK” says, “the ice has come”–and you know it’s going to be months before spring. This doesn’t mean you can’t warm yourself by the fire and think of the happier times or wish really hard for warmer times and poetic autumns. There are two songs I consider the emotional core of this album: “Hindsight,” which is a song about the end of something beautiful, and “Ultimatum,” which is a song about wishing that it didn’t have to end this way and doing what you have to do. And it closes on a strong note with “Seven,” which seems to accept the departure, though not without a strong sense of regret.

The title is a line from “Hindsight:” “Did you say what you wanted said / Or are you just putting the days to bed?” and captures the feel of the album nicely: it is an album about leaving things unsaid, about just putting it all behind you without getting the chance to actually do anything about it. (Of course, since when does saying everything you wanted to say actually make anything better?)

This is my personal favorite album, because nostalgia and regret are emotions I find particularly powerful, but it is a quiet album with a lot of acoustic guitar, perfect for putting the days to bed, and for those nights when you wish things had ended differently. Or if you just want to listen to an album with the line “If you’re my anchor, then I’m throwing you over the side.” It has that line in it. But you probably shouldn’t expect something upbeat.

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New feature! I am going to tell you what you should listen to. I’ve had people ask me where they should start listening to some bands, so I thought it might be helpful to write up a little guide with that in mind. Everything that I listen to is excellent, of course, but it can be difficult to choose an in, as it were. Today we will look at The Decemberists‘ catalog. (Click the clicky for their Myspace page, with some tracks, to listen to.) (more…)

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I have been in Seattle since Tuesday. I came to watch the final shows of Harvey Danger, the band which has long been, without a doubt or question (unlike so many other things), my favorite. Both shows were excellent, and more than excellent, in a way that words can only express inadequately. Or my words, anyway. This is usually something I never do: express freely, truly, and without reservation that something is good, really, legitimately good. I am doing it now. It alone is more than worth the flight, the time, even the frustration and the fears.

I don’t have the time now to explain how much Harvey Danger has meant to me over the years. I know I tried once before, when the band announced the breakup. It was inadequate then and it would be now. Anyway, where would I begin? No, there are things which are better left underground.

The shows had many moments both happy and sad, funny and emotional. They lasted forever, or might as well have, until at the end there was nothing but that sense that it was really complete, it was really over, that there was nothing more that could or should be added. At the final show especially, there was that sense of finality.

There’s a lot I want to say: how glad I was that Evan Sult was there, and perhaps more specifically that Sleepy Kitty was opening; how fun it was to see him and John Roderick and Evan Mosher and other guests on stage, especially towards the end; how perfect the final song was, and indeed the final part of the set. I can’t say it right, so perhaps it’s best to leave it unsaid, at least mostly.

I was fortunate indeed to live so close to such a remarkable band for so long. Some of my best memories are of Harvey Danger shows, or of acquiring Harvey Danger albums. This truly is the end of an era, and the timing is appropriate: days before I move to college for real this time, in a city which is still new to me. Even now I find myself looking for symbols and meanings to hold on to.

To the band, I have little left to say except thank you. You will be dearly missed, and you can add me to the list of strangers who have been touched by your music. I hope you had as much fun with it as I did, but at any rate let me express honestly and without reservations that you have been nothing short of wonderful and I wish you all the very best.

And one final thought: there was nothing quite so appropriate as finally hearing Sean sing the word “love” in The Same As Being In Love. That made me smile. There was nothing left incomplete.

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So, maybe I mentioned that maybe I was going to this Harvey Danger concert tonight?

Yeah, I did. It was rather excellent. I am mostly writing this to remember some things, but hey, have fun: the opening bands were the Organ Beats and Magic Magic. Which I will eventually go check out later? Then Harvey Danger played a two hour setlist, featuring a new song and a bunch of other stuff, and then I walked home from Allston, and it was fucking exhausting, and that’s exactly the way a concert should be. I couldn’t ask for more.

There will be Seattle later this month, and it will be good, but tonight would be enough. Rest assured, the band is not going out without a bang, and that, sir, is good.

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Those of you who have known me for some time probably know that my favorite band is and has been Harvey Danger for quite some time. Sean Nelson is a brilliant writer and lyricist, supported by talented musicians, creating the sort of intelligent and melodic music that I particularly enjoy. This is to say nothing of the fact that he has an amazing voice and their live shows are never anything short of spectacular. (This blog derives its title from a Harvey Danger song.) Unfortunately, the band has announced the dates for their farewell tour, which, while I hope to be able to purchase a plane ticket to see one of their last shows, I’m certainly not relying on. I’m sad to see them go, but I certainly reaped the benefits of being a local fan, and I’m thankful for that. I hope you will indulge me while I reminisce. (more…)

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Yesterday at midnight Central Time, NPR had a live broadcast of The Decemberists playing their new album, The Hazards of Love, in concerts. As live broadcasts of concerts tend to be, the quality was lacking, and through my laptop speakers it felt distant. Despite that, I knew I needed to purchase this album as soon as possible. I got on iTunes the next day and downloaded it.

In many ways it’s a continuation of what they started experimenting with in The Tain, The Island, or The Crane Wife (the song)–long, multi-part stories, epic in scope. This is not a new concept, but the Decemberists pull it off in a unique way–Colin Meloy’s unique lyrics and vocals added to some much harder edged sensibilities than most of their previous works (with a few notable exceptions). It captures the perfect balance between over-the-top and taking itself seriously. It’s fun, it’s epic, it’s scary, it’s creepy, it’s touching. If you’ve liked some of The Decemberists’ longer and more epic material in the past, this is the album you have been waiting for.

As a fully developed story, it’s possible there will be a dearth of single- and radio-friendly tracks from this, but that is hardly a weakness.

It’s on iTunes for ten dollars, bereft of DRM. Go, buy it, love it.

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According to this thread on the Harvey Danger forums, Bobby from the Bound Stems has categorized it as a “trial separation” rather than a breakup–which is hopeful news, though it’s still sad to have missed seeing them live. I’ll be keeping an eye out for further developments. While bands going on hiatus occasionally fade away, they also occasionally come out with a wonderful new album after five years or so, a different direction from their previous material, but worth the wait.

In the meanwhile, Evan Sult is now working on a new project, Sleepy Kitty, and if you haven’t checked it out you should go do so right now. It’s fun.

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Having apparently signed up for The Decemberists‘ mailing list on two different email accounts, I was pleased to read recently that they are launching a new tour soon. There’s also a new album cover at their website! And a fun track–”The Rake’s Song”–from their next album–The Hazards of Love. I’m even more pleased to read that their setlist will consist of the entirety of their new album.

This past March I had the pleasure of attending Harvey Danger‘s 10th Anniversary Public Spectacle, a two evening event at which the band played all three of their albums, and most of their B-sides and rarities. It was a treat, to say the least. (I also believe the Half Brothers played their entire new album at their CD release when I was doing merch.)

Sometimes I feel like it’s easy for people to say that it’s easy to play through an album, it doesn’t require any clever setlist design. Possibly so! But it’s a rarity, something bands seldom do, and this is part of where the charm comes from. In the case of a new release, your first chance to listen to the new material is in a live format–by the time you buy the album, you already have songs to be excited about, you know what to expect, you remember all the excitement and energy from the show. In the case of older releases, it’s a chance to hear the old material as it appears on the album, but live. Not so much different as transformed.

I ramble. I’m looking forward to the new album and hope I can scrape together money for the new tour.

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Yesterday my friend told me that Bound Stems, a recent favorite group of mine, is apparently breaking up. No details as of yet, but I’d heard rumblings several months before so it somehow didn’t come as a shock–but it is very sad news.

Bound Stems is probably not the typical band I’m into. Though the lyrics are beautiful and often clever, it is not lyrically driven music–it is, as their myspace profile declares, “pretty/complex/music,” math rock, with complex rhythms and layered instrumentations that combine to make up music that is catchy in the best possible way, subtle, intricate, fun.

And at a first listen I enjoyed a few tracks but didn’t quite get into it, because on a first listen it’s the lyrics that grab me, and the lyrics are part of this densely layered wall of beautiful sound, woven seamlessly into the rest of it.

Perhaps to get a sense of how different this is for me: despite now being my third most-played band on my last.fm profile, I only know two or three songs’ lyrics by heart. The rest of the top four on there (Harvey Danger, The Decemberists, The Long Winters), I know most of the songs that I have, with only two or three exceptions. This is not to say the lyrics are anything less than masterful. But they are of a different sort than I’m used to–something I’ve mostly unfolded over time, and it always enhances my enjoyment as it does so.

So, in the off chance the band is reading this: very sorry to see you go, but thank you for the wonderful music–it will remain on my playlist for a long time yet to come, I’m sure.

Update: Apparently they have been broken up for two months and the news is just now leaking? More if/when I have it.

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