Skip to main content

The Dirty Three :: Whatever You Love, You Are


Sometimes it’s not enough to survive winter. Sometimes you want winter to cut you just so that you can enjoy the warmth of your own blood, however fleeting the pleasure. Sometimes you want to traverse dark roads bundled in shadow and avoiding the eyes of passing strangers. Sometimes you wish to visit a place inside yourself that is far less civilized, a place that, though you’ve been many times before, still requires a map to locate.

This map can take many forms, and has, for centuries, done so for many people. Some wish to find these roads through drink or pills or violence; others, the more sane, the more austere prefer music. Not anything will do of course, it must be, preferably non vocal, with no real importance placed on the composition’s simplicity or complication. it must, however, possess a certain quality that is impossible to define or explain until it is experienced.

The Dirty Three certainly has such quality, and can be retained for use as such a map, and easily so. Personally, I would choose 2000’s impeccable Whatever You Love, You Are, an album whose presence in my life I owe solely to Jamie. When I first moved to Seattle in the fall of the same year, a friend bought me tickets to Shannon Wright with the Dirty Three opening. Having just moved to a new city, and not really knowing anyone, of course I would rather stay home and mope. Little did I know what a mistake I was making. A year later I had the chance to see Nick Cave at the Paramount Theater with Warren Ellis in the supporting band, and had a pretty decent idea of the size of my mistake.

On Whatever You Love, You Are, The Dirty Three are the musical equivalent of a good cry. The music is dark and brooding, yet fraught with a beauty as delicate as the finest filigree. Emotions reel with Warren Ellis’ violin, while Jim White’s percussion makes want to open your chest to let the pressure off of your rotten heart; Mick Turner’s guitar makes you roll on the floor, tearing at your hair. it is cathartic and exquisite; it is bliss.

As the final strains of "Lullabye For Christie" fades from your speakers you shake your head and return to reality. You’ve travelled your dark roads and come back unscathed, though likely a little changed; behind your eyes lurks a new wisdom . However, isn’t that the allure of travel?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Lucero Video for "Darken My Door"

Darken My Door from Lucero on Vimeo . It's good to see that a serious band doesn't have to take itself seriously. Even better when a band's fans don't take them too seriously. "Darken My Door" off of Lucero's latest album, 1372 Overton Park , is a song about losing stuff--girlfriend, money, dignity. In fact, a lot of Lucero's songs are like that, but I'm not getting into that now. I'm talking about the video, which has so much to love. Obviously, I love the fact director Alex Mecum has used a puppet as the protagonist. But it's what the puppet does that makes this video so much fun. Puppet eating chili dogs, puppet drinking whiskey, puppet giving blow jobs . . . Hell, there's even puppet vomit! It's ridiculous, yes, but also tragic. By the end of the video, if you don't feel a little sorry for the scruffy faced whore puppet, then you have no soul. Here's a little more about the videos for Lucero's new album: To promot...

Okkervil River, Wellington, New Zealand :: Live Music Review

There are energetic drummers, and then there is Travis Nelson. Truly, he is 'Animal.' Okkervil River albums have so much personality, the songs themselves become characters: players, people in the guise of animals or gods (and who can tell the difference sometimes?). And like watching a melodrama, we are witness to emotions that heave and plummet with frightening force. The songs can be drunken youth: the rotund boots on their feet knocking wildly on every surface. Or they can be villainous and smart, full of smiles and wishing-you-well up to the second they thrust the dagger into your belly. Pitched, lust-crazed, calculated: that is one half of an Okkervil album. The other emotion is equally intense in its thick, slow agony: the eternity it takes to remove the knife, knowing you have it all to do over. And so it goes: soaring, drunk, angry, knife, stab, agony, pull-it-out-and-let's-do-it-again. At the San Fransisco Bathhouse in Wellington, New Zealand, on a crisp early a...

Best Music of 2008 [Last.FM gobbles our scrobbles]

Internet radio / social network / music discover tool Last.FM has released its Best of 2008 list. There are going to be dozens of "best" lists coming out in the next few weeks, but this one should command your attention. The list is not based on radio play, and it is not based on best selling albums. It is based on the number of times we (that's the royal "we" in all it's regal garb) have played tracks from our iTunes, iPods, Songbirds, or any other player that allows scrobbling. It is based on what we wanted to hear. We pressed play. We made the playlists. The only fault I can find lies in the Top 10 Tracks, which basically MGMT and Colplay. But that's what you get with raw data. To me, the Artists list is the most compelling. You will find no Kanye West on this list; no Britney and no Janet. You will only find the artists played incessantly and obsessively.