Putting the Days to Bed
The Long Winters
(Barsuk)
You may not know John Roderick by name, but you should. Perhaps you're a Death Cab for Cutie fan still hung up on 2003's Transatlanticism. Well, John Roderick was there. Do you remember Harvey Danger? Again, Roderick was there. And of course, you might read CMJ. Yep. He's there, too. But the easiest way to experience the musical talents of John Roderick is to listen to his primary group, the Long Winters.
This might not sound like a compliment, but the Long Winters' Putting the Days to Bed is a record which speaks to the 14-year-old girl inside of me. It's an intricate examination of the staples of the average teenager's consciousness: love, relationships, and longing. And that can be highly appealing; in its best moments, Putting the Days to Bed becomes a spinning time warp of a dreamier existence. Everything is alternated between the pink-tinged yearning of a devastated crush and the crushed gravel gray of broken feelings. And while it is nice to consider those feelings and those times more than five years after the fact, that very nostalgia can make this record as repulsive as it is compelling. The claustophobic subjects which Roderick obsessively explores can eventually grate and rub the listener's nerves ragged. And perhaps, the fact that it inspires such strong emotions - both positive and negative - makes Putting the Days to Bed less of a pop album, and more of a work of art (if, that is, we must say that things which are pop cannot be art).
Because while most albums such as this would either join the O.C. soundtrack of filler indie rock or simply be annoying, the Long Winters' latest provokes genuine complex reactions. Listen to the opening track, "Pushover": it's easy to relate to that desperate search for affection, but it also brings to mind how alienating it is for the other person who doesn't want to give us that affection. The Long Winters never throw their audience into the cage of perfectly smooth John Hughes bliss, but instead leave both sides of the relationship open. We are allowed to either be entranced by these desperate men searching for affection, or adjust our running shoes to escape from their gazes. And at the same time, underneath this vast emotional plane, a series of boppy pop songs, such as the immensely pleasing "Fire Island, AK" or the evocative (and a little whiny) "Clouds," please the ears with their light and playful melodies.
Overall, Putting the Days to Bed is a record as complex as the feelings - and the years - it evokes. It cannot entirely be given a glowing review; more so than most, this music is vastly contingent on the listener's emotional state. So the Long Winters have made a five-star album to put on when moping around the house and thinking about love. But be warned, it devolves into a two-star album the moment life begins to go on, and every look, smile, and whisper stops being so damned meaningful and heart-rending.
Official Site
Buy It on Amazon
See Also: Shout Out to the L.I.W., y'all!
(Barsuk)
You may not know John Roderick by name, but you should. Perhaps you're a Death Cab for Cutie fan still hung up on 2003's Transatlanticism. Well, John Roderick was there. Do you remember Harvey Danger? Again, Roderick was there. And of course, you might read CMJ. Yep. He's there, too. But the easiest way to experience the musical talents of John Roderick is to listen to his primary group, the Long Winters.This might not sound like a compliment, but the Long Winters' Putting the Days to Bed is a record which speaks to the 14-year-old girl inside of me. It's an intricate examination of the staples of the average teenager's consciousness: love, relationships, and longing. And that can be highly appealing; in its best moments, Putting the Days to Bed becomes a spinning time warp of a dreamier existence. Everything is alternated between the pink-tinged yearning of a devastated crush and the crushed gravel gray of broken feelings. And while it is nice to consider those feelings and those times more than five years after the fact, that very nostalgia can make this record as repulsive as it is compelling. The claustophobic subjects which Roderick obsessively explores can eventually grate and rub the listener's nerves ragged. And perhaps, the fact that it inspires such strong emotions - both positive and negative - makes Putting the Days to Bed less of a pop album, and more of a work of art (if, that is, we must say that things which are pop cannot be art).
Because while most albums such as this would either join the O.C. soundtrack of filler indie rock or simply be annoying, the Long Winters' latest provokes genuine complex reactions. Listen to the opening track, "Pushover": it's easy to relate to that desperate search for affection, but it also brings to mind how alienating it is for the other person who doesn't want to give us that affection. The Long Winters never throw their audience into the cage of perfectly smooth John Hughes bliss, but instead leave both sides of the relationship open. We are allowed to either be entranced by these desperate men searching for affection, or adjust our running shoes to escape from their gazes. And at the same time, underneath this vast emotional plane, a series of boppy pop songs, such as the immensely pleasing "Fire Island, AK" or the evocative (and a little whiny) "Clouds," please the ears with their light and playful melodies.
Overall, Putting the Days to Bed is a record as complex as the feelings - and the years - it evokes. It cannot entirely be given a glowing review; more so than most, this music is vastly contingent on the listener's emotional state. So the Long Winters have made a five-star album to put on when moping around the house and thinking about love. But be warned, it devolves into a two-star album the moment life begins to go on, and every look, smile, and whisper stops being so damned meaningful and heart-rending.
Official Site
Buy It on Amazon
See Also: Shout Out to the L.I.W., y'all!
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