It’s been awhile since I’ve did some music reevyoo’in. And, since nothing as of late has struck my fancy, I figured that I’d give in and pick one of this past year’s gems to look at.
Whiskeytown. For those not in the know, they are a disbanded group of musicians (hailing from North Carolina), most notable among them was Ryan Adams, self-proclaimed savior of rock. But before you go getting any of them pre-conceived notions about the sound, be well forewarned that this is indeed not rock. In any way. In fact, I cringe to say that it’s alt-country.
I first heard of alt-country when a friend referenced Wilco (much loved by many a college student). Since the second half of the word has “country” in it, my brain shut off. How unfortunate for me, as discovering Pneumonia has been such an incredible find.
I hate country. I can’t stand modern country, but have always held a special place in my heart for bluegrass. Perhaps this is why this release is even allowed into my collection. Believe you me, I feel scandalous owning something mildly resembling country.
Enough babble. The disc overall feels like a comfortable pair of jeans. Nothing surprising, nothing envigorating or energizing. It somehow has a lazy-day feeling…as if I’m sitting on the front porch in the rain on a Sunday morning. It feels good in all the right ways, and almost feels as if I’ve heard it before in some distant, subconcious soundtrack to life in general.
Stand-out tracks include “The Battle of Carol Lynn,” “Sit and Listen to the Rain,” and my all-time favorite, “Jacksonville Skyline.” Missing from the album is Adams’ braggadocio. Stripped of all pretense and ego, perhaps this is why the album has such a raw, honest feeling. Emotion seeps from every track, but in a controlled manner (read: not in an emo-annoying way). The playful, Beatles-meet-Billy Joel track, “Mirror, Mirror,” lightens the contemplative mood of the disc, but in a fitting and non-distracting way.
Discs like this always seem pointless to review, probably because they’re so close to your heart. It’s like trying to decide if your arm is good, bad or even worth keeping. It’s pointless. Both are just there and there is something fitting about it.
Simply put, Pneumonia is one of those timeless albums that betrays no decade, no musical fads, and defies genres. Hell, it made an alt-country fan out of this guy.
Thus ends this half-assed review.
Never be ashamed of your music. Music is art and entertainment, and if it entertains you…then rock out to it like there is no tomorrow. Don’t apologize to anyone for what you listen to, unless of course the volume is too loud. In that case, apologize and turn it up just a little more.
