"The Legend of Chavo Guerrero"- The Mountain Goats

When you're a kid, you need distractions from all of the: boredom, bad romance and bad parenting that afflict you. Everything seems to loom much larger then, so if you don't have anything to cling to you can feel overwhelmed. That's the general conceit of "The Legend of Chavo Guerrero," a propulsive effort that's our first taste of the Mountain Goats' upcoming "wrestling album" Beat the Champ. In this case, the specter of John Darnielle's abusive stepfather returns to wreak all sorts of havoc. He lets a young Darnielle down every chance he gets and openly mocks his hero Chavo Guerrero, a member of the distinguished Guerrero wrestling family. The louder he screams the further Darnielle retreats into the blue light of a luchador broadcast. "Look high, it's my last hope, Chavo Guerrero coming off the top rope," Darnielle sweetly wavers during the chorus as his acoustic guitar and Jon Wurster's drums lock into place. As fake as wrestling is, there's a real joy to it that we all could use; regardless of age.

(Beat the Champ is the Mountain Goats' first album since 2012's stellar Transcendental Youth and it's out April 7 in North America, April 13 in Europe, and April 3 in Australia/New Zealand, through Merge. For an explanation of the album you can check out Darnielle's Tumblr. Finally, the band's announced a tour to promote Beat the Champ and you can find the dates after the jump.)

Mountain Goats Dates:

1/24-25: San Francisco, CA - Sketchfest
4/2 Nashville, TN: Mercy Lounge
4/3 Asheville, NC: The Grey Eagle
4/4 Savannah, GA: The Jinx
4/7 Chapel Hill, NC: The Cat’s Cradle
4/8 Washington, DC: 9:30 Club
4/9 New York, NY: Webster Hall
4/11-12 New York, NY: City Winery
4/13 Philadelphia, PA: Union Transfer
4/14 Boston, MA: House of Blues
4/16 Cincinnati, OH: Bogart’s
4/17 Detroit, MI: Majestic Theatre
4/18 Chicago, IL: Vic Theatre
4/19 Minneapolis, MN: Cedar Cultural Theatre
4/21 Louisville, KY: Headliners
4/22 Columbus, OH: Wexner Center
4/23 Chicago, IL: Mr. Small’s Theatre
5/8-10 Atlanta, GA: Shaky Knees Festival
5/26 Denver, CO: Gothic Theatre
5/27 Salt Lake City, UT: Urban Lounge
5/29 Seattle, WA: The Showbox
5/30 Portland, OR: Wonder Ballroom
6/1 San Francisco, CA: The Fillmore
6/3 Los Angeles, CA: Mayan Theater

"Almost Like the Blues"- Leonard Cohen

(From 1HeckofAGuy)

Until the release of "Almost Like the Blues" Canadian folk artist Leonard Cohen had never issued a song with "blues" in the title. Which is strange when you consider that the hyper literate characters he's created have felt them. They've stared at a knife blade and seen "salvation," hopelessly dwelled on one night of love, tried and failed "to be free." On "Hallelujah," arguably Cohen's most famous number, love is reduced to a "cold and broken hallelujah." Any one of those depressive songs (and countless others) deserved to have blues in the title, but for 47 years Cohen resisted the temptation.

That said, even this first taste of his 13th studio album Popular Problems positions the word against noncommittal words "almost" and "like." Not to mention, the music itself has a non-blues feel. A maraca twitches for the duration of the track. Wood drums clop between speakers. Piano keys quietly sound and horns blurt at random intervals. In musical terms "Almost Like the Blues" is closer to a Vegas lounge or a Greenwich Village cafe than the Mississippi River Delta.

Cohen's lyrics however need no qualifiers; the blues are in their soul. Though he turns 80 next month, the former poet's lost none of his talent for crushing insight. "I have to die a little between each murderous thought and when I'm finished thinking, I have to die a lot," he growls with stale whiskey on his breath. Despite his countless religious allusions, Cohen's never had much faith and "Almost Like the Blues" finds him wallowing in faithlessness. He admits to being a sinner and quotes a great professor on the myth of an afterlife, "there is no God in heaven, there is no hell below." From the way Cohen sounds you'd never believe the latter statement. Hell exists and its hounds are hot on Cohen's trail.

Popular Problems drops 9/21 through Columbia and you can find the tracklist below.

Popular Problems:
1. "Slow"
2. "Almost Like The Blues"
3. "Samson In New Orleans"
4. "A Street"
5. "Did I Ever Love You"
6. "My Oh My"
7. "Nevermind"
8. "Born In Chains"
9. "You Got Me Singing"

"Wide Awake" ft. Cat Power- J Mascis

On "Every Morning," the first single from J Mascis' new solo album Tied to a Star, the Dinosaur Jr. singer/guitarist was struggling to get through the day; "Every morning makes it hard on me," he depressingly whined. To summon the strength to head out into world he had to softly beg "Oh baby won't you see me?" before leaning into a characteristic guitar solo. You could tell if he had any company at all, he'd make it through. If not, he might sit in bed all day.

Though a guitar solo is absent from the considerately strummed folk number "Wide Awake," and it's a few hours earlier, everything else is intact. Mascis is still sitting up in bed worrying about what the day will bring. "I'm wide awake," he repeatedly intones over a delicate acoustic guitar melody. Listening to Mascis' "slacker" moan in such a sparse setting, you can almost hear his eyelids closing and him sliding further down the bedroom wall back onto the mattress. His sleep, or lack thereof, all depends on someone ending his lonely spell. He's been bad at interactions since the early days of Dinosaur Jr. and now is no different. "Walking by your will," Mascis recounts in a tender duet section with Chan Marshall of Cat Power. It doesn't sound like much, but even standing up and walking is a victory.



Tied to a Star drops August 29 through Sub Pop.

"Heavenly Father"- Bon Iver

Though last year's soaring LP Repave by Volcano Choir essentially acted as a new Bon Iver effort, it's really been three years since the act Justin Vernon came to fame with has issued anything new. In the run-up to Repave's release in September, Vernon expounded on the silence surrounding Bon Iver, saying "I really have to be in a specific headspace to even begin to illuminate an idea that would create another Bon Iver record, and I'm just not there." At the time his words were effectively a death knell, terrifying fans (myself included) that a follow-up to Bon Iver Bon Iver would never come.

Today then is a cause for minor celebration amongst Bon Iver torch-carriers. As previously reported on the blog, Bon Iver is contributing a new effort to the upcoming Zach Braff film Wish I Was Here and today Line of Best Fit points out the song "Heavenly Father" has officially debuted. In terms of sound, it owes at least a bit of rent to Repave closer "Almanac" which was similarly constructed around an electronic figure. That said, the synthesizer in "Almanac" was far more confident and forward-moving than the electro manipulation we hear in "Heavenly Father". The piece hiccups and stutters in shifted pitches as Vernon's familiar ache floats atop. At times invading hi-hats tics make you think "Heavenly Father" could launch into trap territory if given enough time. But the song doesn't have that kind of certainty. Vernon's perpetually wondering if he can ever come to accept a higher power, or so it seems. "I was never sure how much of you I could let in," could be a religious skeptic's call to the Lord or an explanation offered to a former lover why things didn't work out. With "Heavenly Father" Bon Iver show why love and religion aren't the right answer for everyone, they're riddled with far too many questions that can never fully be answered.

(You can listen to "Heavenly Father" now through the All Songs Considered Media Player on NPR and look for the Wish I Was Here soundtrack to drop digitally July 15.)

Track Attack- "Tangerine" (Led Zeppelin, 1970)

(Welcome to "Track Attack", where each Tuesday a "new" song will be reviewed. Anything is fair-game for this feature, from 50s rockabilly to 70s disco, 90s shoegaze, or 2000s freak-folk. With all the recent attention paid to the reissuing of Led Zeppelin's monolithic first three albums and lead singer Robert Plant prepping a new record entitled Lullaby And... The Ceaseless Roar, now is as good a time as any to take a look back at a relatively overlooked track from the band's third LP.)

I say "relatively overlooked" in the prologue because nothing was really overlooked during Zeppelin's lifespan. Every song, every 15 minute drum solo, every cringe worthy aside, every divisive review, every allegation of Satanism and every shark-filled "sexcapade" has been: examined, reexamined, and parodied so often that the analysis of "there's nothing left to be said" is stale. They're the largest rock group we've seen this side of the Beatles and in many ways they're more enormous because there's no unanimity in their reception. If you pressure anyone long enough, they'll part with a Fab Four song they like. Not so with Zeppelin. There are easily as many people who'd just as soon never hear "Stairway to Heaven" again as there are that play air-guitar alongside Page when his mythic solo comes to a head. That division inspires debate which ensures the band's work will never stop being talked about.

It's utterly bizarre then that such a massive band would record such a diminutive tune. Even for the reverent folk of their third LP, composed at the tranquil cottage of Bron-Yr-Aur in Gwynedd, Wales, "Tangerine" stands out as a moment of astonishing placidity. With the band nearing their zenith of commercial relevancy, Led Zeppelin III acted as a counterbalance. Largely gone were ragers reminiscent of : "Dazed and Confused" and "Whole Lotta Love"; in their place leisurely slid sunny day tracks like "That's The Way" which has been compared to a Cat Stevens song. Working for the first time as a full-fledged democracy, they were attempting to drown out ceaseless noise with stark silence. 

Zeppelin would need cooperation from all members of the unruly crew to compose something in the vein of "Tangerine". If each member was left to their own devices, it would be utter chaos. Robert Plant's baby making wail would begin instantaneously. Jimmy Page would solo uncontrollably. John Paul Jones' bass would rumble like a '57 Cadillac engine on the verge of a blowout. And John Bonham would race to see if his wrists or drumsticks would break first. 

None of that happens on "Tangerine". In fact, nothing happens during the beginning of the song. Page lazily plots out an acoustic melody, before completely abandoning it. What follows is surely the longest stretch of unadulterated silence in their 12 year career. Only 6 seconds in length it feels like 6 life times. When Page returns with his minor key 12-string figure, which vaguely informs "Stairway"'s own riff, there's a nagging urge to celebrate. Which lasts right up to the point where Plant's aching mewl wafts in. Plant is a master of shaking his voice until you can almost hear change falling out and "Tangerine" serves as vital support to that thesis. Over a buttery pedal steel guitar part, Jones' quiet humming and Bonham's restrained drum fills, Plant's voice quivers in the chorus as he recalls the dreamlike Tangerine. It's long been alleged Page wrote the sentimental lyrics as an ode to pop singer and former writing partner Jackie DeShannon after their relationship ended in 1965. However, there's more universality to his words. "Tangerine"'s for anyone who has ever wondered if a former love still thinks about them too. It's for those who feel sadness in summertime instead of unmitigated joy. (After all it is the season of sweltering heat where days never seem to end and relationships falter without school to prop them up.) The mythos of Led Zeppelin may be alien to mere mortals, but songs like "Tangerine" are crushingly familiar.

If you'd like to make a suggestion for a future installment of Track Attack feel free to leave it in the comment section.