CarneVaca
12-08-2003, 10:43 AM
Dudes:
I am in a particularly generous and community-minded mood today. It won't last, so let me take the opportunity to share with you something that has brought me much musical joy in recent days. Iron & Wine is one of these one-man bands that has positively gorgeous music. The dude, Sam Beam, recorded all the tracks in an analog four-track machine in his living room. He uses his voice, harmonized with himself, acoustic guitar, Dobro and banjo.
The result: a disarmingly honest set of songs that for about 45 minutes or so make you glad to be sad. The lyrics are introspective and at times inpenetrable, so don't expect to get what he's saying right off the bat. Adding to the challenge is the way he mixes his voice to create an ambience with the instrumentation, as opposed to making the vocals leap out at you. The low-fidelity recording, hisses and all, add an heartwarming element of despondence and earnestness that is unmatched in this day of slick recordings laden with studio tricks (not that I'm knocking that necessarily). These are mono recordings, so these melodies slide into your consciousness through the center channel and seep into your soul, where they stay ensconced in a way that will have you humming involuntarily in no time. Beam is an anti-Lindsey of sorts, considering his recording methods, but his sense of melody, harmony and despair is not unlike our own favorite artist's.
For some samples of the music, go to ironandwine.com.
Here are the chill-inducing lyrics to one of my favorite songs, imperfect-yet-fresh rhyme schemes and all:
Mother don't worry‚ I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother don't worry‚ I've got some money I save for the weekend
Mother remember being so stern with that girl who was with me
Mother remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying upward over the mountain
Mother I made it up from the bruise of the floor of this prison
Mother I lost it‚ all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother forgive me‚ I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons can be birds taken broken up to the mountain
Mother don't worry‚ I've got a coat and some friends on the corner
Mother don't worry‚ she's got a garden we're planting together
Mother remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry
Blood on the floor and the fleas on their pawsAnd you cried 'till the morning
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain
I am in a particularly generous and community-minded mood today. It won't last, so let me take the opportunity to share with you something that has brought me much musical joy in recent days. Iron & Wine is one of these one-man bands that has positively gorgeous music. The dude, Sam Beam, recorded all the tracks in an analog four-track machine in his living room. He uses his voice, harmonized with himself, acoustic guitar, Dobro and banjo.
The result: a disarmingly honest set of songs that for about 45 minutes or so make you glad to be sad. The lyrics are introspective and at times inpenetrable, so don't expect to get what he's saying right off the bat. Adding to the challenge is the way he mixes his voice to create an ambience with the instrumentation, as opposed to making the vocals leap out at you. The low-fidelity recording, hisses and all, add an heartwarming element of despondence and earnestness that is unmatched in this day of slick recordings laden with studio tricks (not that I'm knocking that necessarily). These are mono recordings, so these melodies slide into your consciousness through the center channel and seep into your soul, where they stay ensconced in a way that will have you humming involuntarily in no time. Beam is an anti-Lindsey of sorts, considering his recording methods, but his sense of melody, harmony and despair is not unlike our own favorite artist's.
For some samples of the music, go to ironandwine.com.
Here are the chill-inducing lyrics to one of my favorite songs, imperfect-yet-fresh rhyme schemes and all:
Mother don't worry‚ I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother don't worry‚ I've got some money I save for the weekend
Mother remember being so stern with that girl who was with me
Mother remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying upward over the mountain
Mother I made it up from the bruise of the floor of this prison
Mother I lost it‚ all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother forgive me‚ I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons can be birds taken broken up to the mountain
Mother don't worry‚ I've got a coat and some friends on the corner
Mother don't worry‚ she's got a garden we're planting together
Mother remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry
Blood on the floor and the fleas on their pawsAnd you cried 'till the morning
So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds flying always over the mountain