Album of the Week: For Emma, Forever Ago

Hi folks. In a holiday break from my usual esosteric reviews of jazz and other non "popular" music, here's an absolutely fantastic album of folk-rock. Yes, this week's album is "For Emma, Forever Ago," by Bon Iver.

Now, I'm the first to admit that my current musical knowledge tends to be about 2 or 3 years behind the curve. Meaning, I discover new music about 2 or 3 years after the rest of humanity discovers it. I don't know if I'm secluded or what, but that's just the way it is I guess. This particular nugget was originally released in winter of 2008.

I purchased this cd with some Christmas money, so I've only listened to it about 2 or 3 times through thus far. I can't claim to have any great knowledge, but what has been really striking me thus far is the overarching tone of the songs; the unmistakable "calling card" of the music. Bon Iver is basically a pen name for Justin Vernon, the artist that lies behind this music. And apparently, if what I read on Amazon is correct, Vernon basically hauled himself into a secluded cabin in the Wisconsin woods and created this album throughout the winter, by himself. That setting is incredibly evident in the songs. I can't quite explain it in words, but were I to try, I would say that there is a haunting to the music, one that can be colored only by heartbreak. In this respect, this album is actually reminding me a lot of Bob Dylan's "Blood on the Tracks," at least in how it manages to maintain such an emotional undercurrent to the music.

Bon Iver is much more stripped down than Dylan though. That's another striking aspect I feel, how naked every song feels. It's not that the music isn't complex, there are some tracks like "Blindsided" that have some fairly intricate horn and guitar parts, but they never seem to get in the way from the simple emotion of the music. I think part of that comes from Vernon's voice, which definitely is one of the most unique that I've heard in a while. He has a very intense falsetto, but keeping in character, it never gets overwhelming.

In sum, the overall aural experience of this album is akin to sitting in a giant pillow, in a brain fog such that you cannot notice a dagger made of frozen tears stabbing you in the heart, but not really minding that much, because the dagger is so pretty, and your brain is so fogged.

Definitely, I think my favorite song on this album is "Re: Stacks." Catch a clip of it here. I have no idea what the lyrics mean yet, but it's a good introduction to the album I think.

So yes, I don't have too many specifics for this album, since I've only listened to it on cursory passes thus far. But I do know that I like it, so I think that should probably suffice, considering this is my online space. Most definitely, it's a good album for the dark winter, with cold nights. Like right now.

Catharsis

You know, it's very rare that you realize you are experiencing the "last" of something. I suppose, you realize it's the last day of school, you realize it's the last band concert, you realize to a certain extent the end of certain things. But a simple end is not necessarily what I'm talking about. I'm talking about an End.

Point being, I went over to my grandmother's house tonight to shovel the driveway. My grandma passed away this summer, her house is being sold tomorrow. She lived in this house ever since about 1954, my dad and aunt grew up there, I grew up going there, it's been around the family for quite a while. Tonight, I shoveled the driveway, I walked into the backyard, took a look around, and left. I don't see any reason why I'll ever be back.

Like I said, an End. It was a rather surreal experience, to say the least. I don't know if it was necessarily sad or depressing, but it was surreal. So many things come rushing back, you don't really know what to think. All you can think, is that you're standing at an End, and there isn't much more to do.

Reminiscent

I'm doing something I quite rarely do right now. Two and a half years ago, when I lived in England, a video was made of some of our shared experiences; the Nine of us. I've seldom watched the DVD, fearing so much the weighty memories it brings back. But tonight, for some reason, I felt like watching it. And I am watching it, right now. We're in the Lake District right now.

It's kind of strange, I suppose, to see pictures of myself from that period. Philosophically, emotionally, mentally, physically, I was still in very much a formative period at that point of my life. In fact, I think, that experience was maybe the formative period in my life. It was assuredly the most immersive. It's funny to look at me; I'm clean shaven, I have more hair, I look very different. And I think, you can tell, even from just looking at me, that I was in a different place. That's okay though. One thing still remains - still have the ratty ass Twins hat. And oddly enough, I think I'm mostly still wearing the same clothes. That blue pullover thing positively has to be the best clothing purchase of my life.

Two things, actually three, stick out to me most of all. First of all, it reminds me how intensely bonded the nine of us were, for that one year. If I remember correctly, it was an incredible attachment, one that I don't know has ever been duplicated quite exactly. Very seldom have I felt friends as close as family. Which makes it even more ironic, to think of the state of relationship that the nine of us currently experience. To put it mildly, it is not quite as intense.

Second, I think I forgot what an incredibly eye-opening experience the whole thing was, being that independent. In retrospect, it's really quite shocking that I didn't get myself killed, or arrested, or otherwise injured making my way through the Continent for months at a time. Seeing the pictures, remembering the little things, it just really brings back how intense the whole experience was. You want to talk about feeling vital; I don't know what exactly is going to duplicate that feeling. I remember stepping off the plane in Grenoble, for the first day of Christmas holiday, and just thinking "oh shit...." But I made it.

Third, it makes me remember what Nottingham (the city) actually felt like when I was there with this group of people. Being back in Notts this summer, I remember feeling extremely comfortable, at ease, but still having this sort of emptiness. Now I can fully realize what that was. That's a lie, I knew what it was at the time, but I didn't have the additional audio/visual stimulus. What a time, what a time.

Favourite Things I Now Remember

1 - Having paella on the beach in Nice, and throwing rocks into the Mediterranean
2 - The leather chairs in the flat living room
3 - My practice facility/flat basement/church hall
4 - Every single meter of the route from the flat to the university
5 - Everything else

There's my nostalgic post about England for the year. I wouldn't say it makes me melancholy; it just makes me remember. And I think, remembering is important.

Final Thoughts

Well, I suppose 3/4 of finals are complete, in addition to a turned-in final paper. The only thing standing between myself and irresponsibility is corporations. It's a formidable obstacle, but I'm confident it can be overcome. There is a very real possibility of bloodshed though. Finals always tend to rekindle my secret desire to drop out of law school and start a folk band.

The thing about finals, the thing I didn't recall before yesterday, is the incredibly loneliness that they yield. For the past 24 hours, I probably estimate I've had approximately 5 minutes of actual face-to-face human contact. I suppose I'm also a victim of certain extenuating circumstances, but it's really hit me recently, how lonely all this studying gets. I actually think I had a dream last night with a talking copy of the model business corporation act. That is not a positive development. If I have a dream involving a talking book, I want it to be a fun one. Like the sushi book I saw at Barnes and Noble tonight that came with its own sushi rolling mat. Now that, my friends, would be a dream.

But since we're on the subject, I dare anyone to ask me anything about fiduciary duties. I will demolish it.

I really think half the battle of these exams are mental. Didn't Yogi Berra say something about that?; I think so. It's always better to walk into a test thinking that you're going to dominate it, rather than thinking you will be dominated. Pompous? Presumptuous? Of course. But that's part of what you sign up for when you go to law school.

In any event, it's time for these tests to be over. It's time to emerge from this hazy world of corporate opportunity, of the federal rules of evidence, of the first amendment. I'm even starting to get sick of my favorite term from international law - jus cogens. Mainly though, it's time to stop being in this solitary existence.

Well, in a little more than 36 hours, at least the exam part will be done. Cannot come soon enough.

My Snow Day

The rest of the civilized world is having a snow day, probably due to the blizzard conditions, blowing snow, and ridiculous roads. I, on the other hand, am having a conlaw exam on the dark hell masquerading as the First Amendment.

I think the sick thing about this, is I'm glad to have the exam...

Guest Blogger - The Dog

Often times I cannot help but wonder: what is wrong with all of these people?

There are so many things, I tend to lose track of them. Why don't they share what they have, like food? Why don't they devote more time to relationships, like me? Why are they always on the move?

Oddly enough, it's this last concern that is somewhat stifling me at the moment. I had to take the guy for a walk today, like I tend to have to, and I simply cannot understand why he feels the need to be so slow. It's a beautiful December day, there's a light slow falling, and you want to move slow? No, no, no, this is not a time to move slow. This is a time to move fast! Why shouldn't you be frolicking in the snow, or dashing after a squirrel, or doing any of these things? Everyone seems to think life in the fast lane is such a bad idea. I would disagree. Life in the fast lane, often times, is quite a good idea.

I wonder why I have these views? Maybe it's because most of my day is spent in a slow lane. I sleep all night, wake up to go outside, eat, and then spend most of the day lazing about. Sure, I do things to break up the monotony of the day, important things. For instance, I look out the window. I look out at everything that is mine, and I usually think how how happy I am to have it. Sometimes, I chew on a piece of rawhide. And if I'm feeling extremely ambiguous, I will sniff around the kitchen for food. As important as these activities are though, they can hardly be thought to be "fast."

Maybe it's the fact that I'm getting to be an old man. While the humans surrounding me age at a seemingly glacial pace, time keeps up with me. As personally hard as it has been to realize, longetivity (at least in human years), is not something I will be blessed with. In fact, sometimes I wonder how much longer I'll be able to run and jump the way I do, or bound up and down these stairs. I think about it sometimes, but it's dawned on me that these are not things to dwell about.

The way I see it, the world is composed of many wonderful things. Some of these things, I don't enjoy. For instance, I don't enjoy being sprayed with a hose, I don't enjoy being treated impolitely by other dogs, I especially don't like being talked to like a baby. After all, I'm getting old; I should be respected. But for the most part, there are so many things to be wondrous about. How can you not be wondrous of a gorgeous day, or time spent with special people? In these situations, it just doesn't seem useful to always be moving in half-speed. If I spent my entire life in half speed, I definitely would not have survived that jump off of the slide. No, life is something that should rather be enjoyed to the fullest. And sometimes, that means going faster than you think you should.

As in all things, there is a time to be cautious. Hell, even I have to be a little cautious on the back steps nowadays. But after a while, caution gives way to complacency. If there's something you really want, at the end, you have to make an effort to get it, which may be uncomfortable. You think I like tearing around like a jackass, just to get someone to go walking with me? Of course not, it can be equal parts embarrassing and terrifying. After all, I'm getting old. But it works.

There are few really important things in my life. I enjoy eating, walking, and being with my family. Pretty much all of these are communal activities. I do what I can to get these things, and I hope they work out. So I don't see what the big fuss about the fast lane is about.