Well, it's not really so much a tape as it is a playlist, but we grew up with cassette tapes. And since it's our blog, we can call it whatever we want. So while you're poring over our posts--as we know you do--you can listen to some of the songs we like. We'll try to update the mix tape, er "playlist", every week. However, we tend to spend a lot of time in bars, so cut us a little slack. So yeah. Duck and Cover Mix Tape: second door on the left.
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
Comments