Heretic Pride is an enigma. On one hand, it is home to the song Heretic Pride, Sax Rohmer #1 and Lovecraft in Brooklyn. On the other hand, it’s home to quite a few songs I can’t seem to remember exist. Then, I think to myself “Damn. Heretic Pride is the perfect album! I love every song!”, only to actually listen to the album and realize this isn’t true. I just have constant and recurring amnesia about the songs I dislike.

On one point I am utterly certain: the polished arrangements do not detract from the album. I love lo-fi old school John Darnielle as much as the next person (if the next person loves lo-fi old school John Darnielle a whole bunch), but these songs are meant to be polished. You can feel it. Take Lovecraft in Brooklyn, play it with old guitars and record it on a boombox in someone’s basement and it’s going to suffer. Sure, I’d love to be in that basement, hitting the record button, but the crisp energy of the song is…amazing. It would be missed.

The album is missing a central theme. I see several smaller veins, such as the manicness and unrequited love, but the overarching theme doesn’t exist. It’s kind of jarring. I walk into a Mountain Goats album expecting a package deal. Splitting up “All Hail West Texas” just doesn’t feel right, but I freely pick and choose songs from this album.

From the undeniable electricity of Lovecraft in Brooklyn to the light and airy Tianchi Lake, this album’s just hard to sum up. The only niche it seems to fill is the “Mountain Goats Fan” niche.  I guess that means, despite the change in recording and instrumentation, this newest albums remains in the “vocally and lyrically driven, story like songs for those who think stories should be about insane writers, lake monsters and cults” niche.

Oh! Crossover special. Fan of the Irish folk band Heathers? They cover Heretic Pride. I recommend watching this video now for ultra happiness.

What to Expect?

John Darnielle. You probably aren’t walking into this album without a well honed love of the man, anyway. Expect his awesomeness, some fancier music, and a good deal of awesome. And some boring, at least if you think like me. Because damn, some of the songs are boring.

What to take away?

This album is a mixed bag to the Mountain Goats enthusiast. It’s lacking some of John Darnielle’s staple elements, such as a central theme, and it has really boosted the production value, but it’s packed with some amazing goodness and is definitely worth the sticker price.

What drink to pair it with?

This is a tricky one. Without a cohesive flavor to the album, it’s hard to say. I’d venture the third least expensive bottle of Gewürztraminer at your local wine and spirits store would do well. Spicy, slightly dry, a bit unusual, and not for everyone.

Favorite song?

It’s definitely Lovecraft in Brooklyn. That song would leave me manically air-guitaring through multiple iterations. It’s just too much. I also love how different it is from Darnielle’s normal style. When that guitar grunged in to open the song up, I grinned like an idiot. I knew it was going to be brilliance.

“In the Craters on the Moon” has an undeniable something something about it, and is a hard contender for first place. John Darnielle’s quote, listed below, makes me love this song even more.

“Sometimes you just don’t want to leave the house for days… and your friends come over and say they brought groceries. Don’t let them in! It’s a trick! They’re not really your friend. When you lock yourself in your house and all you need is daytime TV, and a pencil, to keep track of the days that you’ve been locked in the house. This song was written, with that pencil.”

Folk is big these days. At least it was there for a bit. Between the Avett Brothers and Mumford and Sons, it seemed the world was ready to step away from the auto-tuning and enjoy music that’s more than 65% real. I hope that’s still going on. I don’t follow the world closely enough to know anymore.

If folk is big, then the Armadillos should be big too.

This is a band that really knows their shit. They wield their instruments masterfully, which is all the more amazing considering their instruments include things like accordions, tin flutes, mandolins and cellos. Wrap this all up with amazing skill and some amazing voices and you have folk gold on your hands. Honestly. The Armadillos are my 8th most played band for the past year, even though I only own 8 songs by them.

The album seems to inhabit the period between the end of the Revolutionary until the industrial revolution gripped America. Even though there are a fair number of years between those two events, the album seems a solid, cohesive unit. This is more than just half-hearted nostalgia, though. These artisans have crafted some amazing songs that feel period, even while being spruced up with tempos and instruments not native to the time. When I listen to Yorktown, for example, I’m not thinking about the Armadillos. I’m thinking about Yorktown, and what it would be like to be on that battlefield.

Admittedly, some songs have me more than others. I adore Eleanor. So, so, so much. I’m also quite partial to Devil’s Rag, and of course York Town. Some songs don’t have the immediate appeal of those three, but are still utterly lovely songs. The only song I’m not partial to is the Donner Party, and I admit it’s exclusively because I’m a weeny. I can’t just listen to it as a song. No, I must imagine what it would be like to be forced to eat a friend, neighbor or acquaintance due to starvation. It kind of bums me out, contemplating if I’d eat my best friend, and thus, I don’t listen to that song.

But can we focus on Eleanor for a minute? The song is utter perfection. From the opening mandolin to Sheila’s voice, it’s just so much. It’s so good. And the lyrics? They flow beautifully. There’s not a phrase that catches or a questionable verb. I don’t talk to many people, and few enough of them have a penchant for folk music, but by God I make people listen to this song.

Here. Go listen to them now. Right here. Don’t go to Myspace to listen to them. You click on them, Myspace ignores your request and starts playing Rihanna on J-pop. Best to skip that entirely and go to the bandcamp page. Bonus, once you decide they’re amazing and awesome and such, you can buy it. Right there. Whoo, convenience.

What to Expect?

The most amazing Revolutionary War/Industrial Revolution inspired indie folk of your life. Listen. Listen and be well.

What to take away?

The Armadillos should have more songs available to the public.

What drink to pair it with?

What to quaff with this album? A truly dizzying question. Whiskey and water, most likely. If that’s not up your alley, drink some Yuengling, if you’re lucky enough to be in a state where it’s available. I’m not, anymore.

Favorite song?

Eleanor. Eleanor for the win. Seriously. This song is among my favorite songs ever of all time. Go listen to it, and it’ll be one of yours too.

This is an important album in the library of any Zevonite. It’s the end of an era, a beautiful final album by an amazing musician with the help of many brilliant, talented and famous friends. It’s truly a lovely album. I just don’t like it that much.

Heresy and blasphemy, should the High Priest of Zevon hear of it, my life is forfeit.

That’s not to say I hate the album. Some songs are just utter perfection. “Dirty Life and Times” is an amazing song, the lyrics in “Disorder in the House” are witty and amusing (the couch of despair later turning into the davenport of despair is particularly amusing). Numb as a Statue and Prison Grove are utterly captivating, and Keep me in your heart is breathtakingly depressing.

The album is packed with guest musicians: Jackson Browne, Jorge Calderon, Tom Petty, Ry Cooder, Emmylou Harris, Don Henley, David Lindley, Timothy B. Schmit, Tommy Shaw, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Bob Thornton, Joe Walsh and Dwight Yoakam.

And yet, despite all of this, I never find myself wanted to listen to The Wind from beginning to end. I always just want to pick out those four songs that I adore and ignore the rest of them. Music is amazing, though. Spent four years skipping over “Carmelita” when it would come on, and then one day I realized Carmelita was an utterly amazing song. Listened to it on loop for days. Perhaps I’m just not there yet, and in a couple years the rest of this album will catch up with me. I hope so.

What to Expect?

Warren Zevon, all over the board. From rough bluesy Rub me Raw to light and delicate Don’t Leave me, this album runs the gamut of Warren Zevon’s repetoire.

What to take away?

As the final album of Warren Zevon’s career, this album is a must for Zevonites. You will love some of the songs on it. I just don’t think every song on the album is meant for every Zevonite. We might have to split into separate congregations over this album.

What drink to pair it with?

Skip the drink, pair it with your favorite sandwich, and enjoy the hell out of it.

Favorite song?
Numb as a Statue to me is the cream of the crop, though Dirty life and times is also amazing beyond reason.

Now this is an album. My ratings for individual songs are all over the board. From one to five stars, one song will cause me to erupt into impromptu dance and another will send me spinning into a rage. And yet it seems like once a month I think that I ought to listen to Graceland again.

Paul Simon’s lyrics are freaking gorgeous. Many of his songs are pure poetry. But add music and instantly I’m bored. I think it’s the generic 1980s music accompanying so many of the songs. Take, for example, “I Know What I Know”. The music is boring. It’s straight up tired. The Gaza Sisters add interest, and draw me back into the song, but then they go away and I’m lost again. Half the music on this album just sounds like a pre-programmed track on a keyboard.

The funny thing is that there is something undeniable about this album. I’m not crazy about it, start to finish, but I’m drawn to it.

“The Boy in the Bubble” is a particularly good entrance into the album.

The accordion kick-off amuses me every time. A South African inspired pop album, complete with accordion.

As is often the case with Paul Simon, this song sounds upbeat and happy. Well, except for that accordion. It sounds kind of…salty. And the synth guitars (I’m assuming they’re synth guitar sounds, anyway) that screech in remind me of weapons. So maybe the song doesn’t sound that happy.

Then Graceland, despite the utter brilliance that is the lyrics, starts off and loses me. The music is just so boring!

Perhaps in seven years this album will hit me like a train. I mean, I was born in the same year this album was made. Perhaps 24 years just isn’t quite old enough to appreciate the greatness. I do love the poetry of his lyrics, though, and trying to tease apart meanings from the songs is interesting. There are some particularly good notes about “You Can Call Me Al”.

I also greatly enjoy Lady Smith Black Mombazo, Los Lobos, and Good Rockin’ Dopsie and the Twisters when they make appearances.

What to Expect?
Paul Simon. World Music. Synthesizers in an overabundance, totally killing the awesomeness that is Paul Simon and said World Music.

What to Take Away?
Leslie doesn’t like synthesizers half as much as she thought.

What Drink to Pair it With?
This is a tricky one. It seems to depend on the song. The differences from “Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes” and “You Can Call me Al” are pretty steep. I’d hazard a guess that a bottle of dry red wine would pair nicely. You pick the type.

Favorite Song?
Call me shallow, but I only bought the album because of “You Can Call Me Al”. For weeks I would bike to work belting this song out as I rode, headphone free, through the blustery and cold Wisconsin fall. It’s just a flawless song, and the music is far from generic.

The lyrics: consistently cryptic. After much sleuthing, here are several purported meanings of this song:

1) It’s about a man having a mid-life crisis. Seems pretty reasonable, though doesn’t explain that “body guard” quip.

2) It’s all about Paul Simon. The beginning is Paul Simon worrying about his music career. The middle is Paul Simon worrying about his freshly broken family. The end is Paul in South Africa, realizing life will go on. Still no explanation for that “body guard” line.

3) It’s all about Dante’s Inferno. This one’s my favorite. A genius on Songmeanings.com put this one forward. Alighieri shortened is Al, Beatrice (Dante’s lost love) is shortened to Betty. He goes through Hell and purgatory to find her, and ends up in heaven. Betty is is body guard, because, well, she’s dead. She can rock the afterlife world better than him. Who cares if this is or isn’t what Paul Simon’s thinking. It’s brilliant.

4) It’s about apartheid. Black man in Johannesburg, shit sucks. Still nothing about Betty as a bodyguard.

5) It’s about alcohol. Al, as in alcohol. Betty, as in the Betty Ford clinic. Amusing. Apparently Paul Simon met Chevy Chase at said Betty Ford Clinic. And since Chevy Chase was in the music video…

6) Of course I know the story of Paul Simon at a party where the host supposedly consistently (and accidentally) called Paul Simon and his wife by “Al” and “Betty”, but, well. that’s boring. And still doesn’t explain the verses.

This song is clearly dated. The synthesizers are overwhelming. But they’re played with such promise. They’re not tired old synthesizers, they’re bursting with emotion and energy. When there wasn’t a million feet of snow outside, I would belt this song as I biked to work in the morning. It was good.

This album is solid. There are some songs I’m not crazy about, but only one that I want to murder. That’s better than most albums.

Generally speaking, I like the less poppy stuff the best, which incidentally means I like the country sounding songs the best. I also prefer story telling songs over love songs. Regardless, Jewel is an amazing writer, and even the songs I don’t like post-recording I appreciate on paper.

I really think Jewel feels confined by the pop genre. Her best songs are ones where she ignores the rules. Rambling stories with intermittent choruses. I love music like that: Warren Zevon, The Mountain Goats, they don’t care if they drop a chorus, a verse or a bridge. Or all three. Jewel is at her best when she works the same way. And when she breaks out that twang.

She uses some words and imagery multiple times. I’m ignoring the normal words like articles, common nouns and common verbs. Most notably repeated words are: barbed wire, neon, disco, and vain. Two songs mention a man with his hands in his pockets, and two songs talk about problems seeming small while in an airplane.

But, seriously. The word neon comes up a lot in this album. It’s amusing.

If you do the math, this album gets an 80%, and the average song rating is a four. Not bad, Jewel. Not bad at all.

As for something to drink while savoring this album? That’s where things get tricky. Perhaps a rhubarb wine. Sophisticated yet slightly rural. Sweet and uncommon.

yeah, rhubarb wine.

And the words. My god, how she pairs words. It’s perfect. Imagery everywhere.

five stars.

Three.five stars.

After several minutes of thinking, too, I suspect her use of the word ‘geppettos’ must refer to the Pinocchio toymaker, and she’s saying something about puppeteers. It seems a stretch, though. Even though I like the lyrics, like the meaning, even like most of her singing, the odd tempo loses me.

Three.five stars.