- I would talk about Star Trek here but I don't think that I have enough to say about it to warrant an entire post to itself (general summary: it's great), so, I'll wait until after the Lost season finale airs on Wednesday and talk about both of those things in one post. I've decided to make this post about something I promised to cover a while ago: My other favourite album of 2008, besides 808's & Heartbreak, namely, The Gaslight Anthem's The '59 Sound:
In a certain way, it's odd that 808's and '59 could be my two favourite albums of last year because, both thematically and sonically, they couldn't be more diametrically opposed. 808's is all depressive, paranoid truths, delivered with appropriately alien and synthetic musical backdrop; it's harsh at points but altogether necessary and, despite its frigidness, it finds pockets of warmth within heartache that make it all, ultimately, life-affirming. The '59 Sound, by contrast, feels like a musical postcard from a time that, if it ever existed at all, is long gone and, as such, it's all warm, mushy nostalgia and heart-on-sleeve working class sentiments backed up by fittingly scrappy, but never mean or overly aggressive, guitar rock.
The obvious start point for The Gaslight Anthem is Bruce Springsteen (more specifically, the Springsteen of Born To Run and prior, before the cynicism set in and he was creating grand lyrical mosaics out of everyday life) and, certainly, it checks out (hell, "Meet Me By The River's Edge" includes the lyric "no surrender/my Bobby Jean") but there seems to be a slowly developing genre of bands like this and I couldn't be happier. I haven't heard it termed yet but all these groups share a general aesthetic: Soulful, grown-man vocals, alternately twinkling or clacking guitars, working class subject matter, at least two of the band members looking like auto mechanics, punkish energy/enthusiasm, an affinity for cleaned-up 50's nostalgia, slight nods to old-school country (these bands are the first people you call in when putting together a Johnny Cash tribute record) and lead singer having a penchant for hair grease and sleeve tattoos. Examples of this "movement": The Loved Ones, Bad Religion (sometimes), Social Distortion (at their least emo), The Lawrence Arms, This Charming Man, Against Me!' (at their least shout-y) and Polar Bear Club.
The Gaslight Anthem, while certainly not the first band to do this sort of thing, are, in my mind, the best at it for a couple of reasons. Firstly, they're the band who has most fully stripped away the harshness and meanness of their punk rock roots, while not abandoning the energy. If one were to term The '59 Sound as a "punk " record, it would be more in the Ramones sense (stripped-down, speedy musicality with an appreciation for pre-Beatles rock & roll) than in the Sex Pistols sense (outright rage/nihilism, with confrontational singing and lyrics) but even that isn't really accurate; it's far too cleanly produced (but, thankfully, retains grit and energy) and has a bit greater tonal range. Secondly, they're the band with the most naked heartland-rock fixation. Not just Springsteen, but Dylan and Petty (who gets a chorus name check in "Even Cowgirls Get The Blues") too. The guitar sounds, often interlocking in patterns which alternately jangle brightly or clatter like those beat-up car engines they love to sing about, are the biggest give away in that regard but check out the rock-solid, but deceptively complex, rhythm section and the clever use of non-rock sounds (the cabaret stand-up bass on "Film Noir", the clanging church bells on the title track, the brief scat-singing (!) interlude on "Great Expectations") for further evidence.
There's also the issue of those lyrics, which are my third factor putting the band above their competition. If you're not like me, and don't have a sort of unreasonable nostalgia for an era you've never lived in, you probably won't go quite as ga-ga over the band's shameless appropriation of 50's motifs as I did. But, for me, this is mana from heaven: They sing about sleeping on beaches and using pay phones, one chorus references "high-top sneakers", "sailor tattoos" and an "old '55", another contains a wish about looking "like Elvis", they speak in grand declarations like "I'll love you forever/if I ever love at all", they reference Audrey Hepburn and Marylin Monroe, the phrase "twist the night away" is used with no irony, they think Ferris Wheels and carnivals are the coolest things ever. I could go on and on but you get the idea. To be fair, the band does, on occasion, try to bring a bit of edge to this fuzzy-dice nostalgia trip (there's a semi-hardcore punk backup shout on "The Patient Ferris Wheel" and "High Lonesome" contains a line about "the powder on the bar") but those ultimately feel sort of hollow, perhaps the last fleeting vestige of traditional punk being molted away. Of course, none of this would mean anything if the band didn't believe it; if they were winking or being ironic. But, as far as I can tell, they seem to be 100% serious about this stuff, which is pretty commendable. In an era where being whiny/angry is almost a guarantee of success (whether in standard radio-rock or more MTV-friendly emo), it's great to hear a band with this much zest and enthusiasm (even if they have to reach back nearly 60 years to find it). Heck, even the ex-girlfriend ballad "Here's Looking At You, Kid" and the dead friend-tribute title track are delivered with faint smiles of fondness than agonized cries of pain and are much better for it.
Of course, even if you aren't convinced by the words here, these songs are impeccably written and performed and should convince by themselves. Ebbing and flowing at just the right points, tracks like "Film Noir" and "Old White Lincoln" have both breezy calms and swirling storms. "The Patient Ferris Wheel" and album-closer "The Backseat" are the most closely-allied with basic punk and, thus, have a tinge more aggression but still drip with warm romance. Slower numbers like the blues-tinged "Even Cowgirls Get The Blues" and the sparkling "Here's Looking At You, Kid" show the band's range. For me, the record's biggest stunner is "Casanova, Baby!" a rockabilly-ish, night-on-the-town number with great guitar work (dig that bridge!) and the album's best set of words ("every slow, mad song/is a night I'd like to spend with you"? Genuis, to these ears).
In the end, The '59 Sound is very much a regressive album; it doesn't try to advance any sort of music at all, it's almost stubbornly stuck in the past lyrically. But that's cool because the band has written a great set of tunes which live up to their influences and because the lyrical sentiments, as overly sentimental as they might be, are fun to get lost in. This album creates a world of beat-up classic cars, beaches at sunset, hotly anticipated county fairs, dancehalls filled with the sounds of 50's rock, charming, swooning boys in leather jackets and the beautiful, sundress-wearing girls who love them. It's a world where there's nothing that can't be fixed by a good, long drive or a dance with your sweetheart, where the only violence is when your friend knocks you out for making a pass at his girl (but you're still best buds after the ambulance arrives), where you can wash way all your problems with a dip in the river and where the daily grind of your job just gets you more ready for a late night of cruising and dancing. It's a world that's pretty damned far in the past, if it ever even existed at all, but wouldn't it be nice if our world was a bit more like it?
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