Year by year: 2006

John Callahan – PURPLE WINOS IN THE RAIN

Broken noses, broken veins…

If any other album in this series demands a proper review, it’s this. Because face it – your chances of having heard John Callahan’s music are minimal to say the least.

I first read about this album in 2008, and it was Jim James, of all people, who praised it to the extent you could not ignore. I never cared for Jim James and his overtly second-rate band, but something drew me to an album he so ardently recommended. The album was not easy to track down, but Christ was it ever worth it.

Purple Winos In The Rain was not connected with any special (or specific, for the matter) moment in my life. Rather, it created its own moment. Rain poured to “Lost In The City”, autumn ended to “Suicide In The Fall”. You come across such albums once in a while and wonder just how obscure great things can get.

And it’s great in a quiet, humble but absolutely unequivocal way. Seventeen songs (plus a guest appearance from Tom Waits, who gets to sing the stunning “Touch Me Someplace I Can Feel”) of strummed guitars, affecting piano notes and occasional harmonica. John’s beautifully understated and moving vocals coupled with the kind of tunes that make you go ‘Jesus this is fucking amazing’. Seventeen times. And the lyrics, of course. Morbid, ominous – against all that melodic prettiness (“Portland Girl” is just unbelievable).

This album’s influences could be numerous, but you won’t hear them. John Callahan’s personality is all over these songs, whether it’s the one-minute “Yesler Street” or the straightforwardly waltzy “Bullet Through The Heart”. Shamefully (I had an excuse: I loved the music), it was somewhat later that I found out more about the art of John Callahan. His brilliant but hopelessly dark cartoons were a perfect match for the music on Purple Winos In The Rain. Sadly, the only album he managed in his lifetime (he died in 2010, at the age of 59). 

I’m listening to it right now. It’s something about Charlie Manson saving The Beatles… And just like Jim James all those years ago, I can’t recommend this enough. By any standard and for any taste, Purple Winos In The Rain is achingly special. 

Mulled wine

White, never red.

It’s a form of art. In fact, preparing mulled wine is not unlike writing a short story where it’s all about the right details and how you place them to make one coherent piece. 

Rather importantly, it has to be honey instead of sugar, the water must never boil and you should not forget a pinch of cloves. Also, it’s never red, it has to be white. And then any writer’s block will go way. Together with a headache and a dead end of another plot.

The Bazaar Of Bad Dreams

I would love to have some more Nocturnes from Kazuo Ishiguro, certain stories from Heavy Water are among the best things Martin Amis has written, and Will Self’s Grey Area has never left my writing desk (lest I forget just how good “Between The Conceits” is). It’s a shame that a short story is merely a distraction for an established author. 

So much so that you really have to be a dreamer. Thankfully, there’s one such dreamer in America, and his new collection of stories (published a month ago) is as good a book as I’ve read this year. The man knows a short cut to a nightmare you wish to see. And when he writes like Raymond Carver (no shame in that; there isn’t a better short story writer than Raymond Carver), he still ends up writing like Stephen King. Which pays off: The Bazaar Of Bad Dreams is escapism of the highest order. 

Year by year: 2005

The New Pornographers – TWIN CINEMA

A.C. Newman.

Dan Bejar.

Neko Case.

In one band.

***

There's not much left to say really. God knows power pop should not be this inventive. In fact, there’s more going on in “Bleeding Heart Show” than in the whole discography of your favourite band.

Listen to this and weep:

Those drums.

Year by year: 2004

Nina Nastasia – DOGS

Nina Nastasia is special. She is one of the most intriguing, genuinely exciting songwriters of past decade. I would say ‘these days’, but she hasn’t recorded an album in five years and God knows when this hiatus will end.

Also, Nina Nastasia is not the sort of artist where you could say ‘she should be a lot more popular than she is’. I would not be too sure. Many will recognise “Ugly Face” from Carriers, some will recognise “Bird Of Cuzco” from a John Peel tribute record, but she is simply not cut out for anything remotely resembling fame. She’s been endorsed by Steve Albini, for Christ’s sake. 

She doesn’t make that kind of music. She makes the kind of music that her talent would allow. Striking, original, clever melodies that may not always overwhelm, but when they do work – you get things like “Judy’s In The Sandbox”, “Underground”, “A Dog’s Life”, “Stormy Weather”, “All Your Life”. These are some of the best songs I’ve ever heard. 

P.S. Dogs originally came out in 2000, but the record was rereleased in 2004. And it's too bloody good, so fuck the dates.

Year by year: 2003

Gillian Welch – SOUL JOURNEY

If I start sleeping in the gutter, drunk at the age of 40, Soul Journey would be my album of choice. Not that it’s depressing and not that it’s uplifting – it’s both. But a bad streak is perfect for it. Lying off the beaten track, abandoned by all, somewhere in Nashville.  

An album heard at a special moment in life, under special circumstances, but while many albums like that (Bon Iver’s For Emma is one) are later revealed as weak and ‘what on Earth was I thinking’, Soul Journey has never let me down. Not once.

You can tell me about the transcendental alt. country beauty of “One More Dollar” all you want, but I never liked Gillian Welch when she was trying to be perfect. It just sounded smooth. Sterile. So in that sense Soul Journey was a true gift. It’s like she wasn’t trying too hard – and for some people, it works best. 

Jeff Tweedy has never done a song better than “He’s a Dick”. Likewise, “One Monkey” is the best thing Gillian Welch has ever done. But Soul Journey is so much more than that. And Christ it’s hard to stay away from a pathetic dive into this album’s title.

Year by year: 2002

Beth Gibbons & Rustin Man – OUT OF SEASON

Funny I should write this on the first day of winter. Funny – because Out Of Season could be the ultimate autumn album. Everything about it, from Beth Gibbons’ morbidly soulful vocals to the cold, slightly surreal vibe, everything screams wet shoes and windy streets.

It’s that same Beth Gibbons of Portishead – but this is bleak jazz rather than chilling trip-hop. A sense of abandoned hope runs through “Mysteries” and “Show” and the incredible “Tom The Model” like cold, cold blood – but, crucially, the effect is beautiful rather than oppressive. 

The centrepiece is “Funny Time Of Year” which shares the atmosphere with Nico’s version of “My Funny Valentine”. Desolation mixed with sadness, and the feeling that 30 years from now you will cry listening to these songs. Odd how both have ‘funny’ in their title. A less appropriate word would be hard to find.