Reviews by deksametazon

It's absolutely astonishing how you can be on top of your game in every sense of the word, and then autumn comes and on the second day, it hits your chest with all the feelings of anxiousness, melancholy, and inadequacy and such.

Part of that "and such" gang is The Lioness by Jason Molina AKA Songs: Ohia AKA whatever the hell alias he went by at that time. By this point, Jason polished his sound so much, that you can see your own crying face on the atoll on the cover.

Jokes aside, the album sounds much more rich and fuller than any of his previous albums. The lyrical content is much more digestible and easier to understand than the previous civil war metaphors he employed. And most important, it's consistent enough to be enjoyable all throughout. The first half, 1-5, is obviously better, but 6-9 is an honest surprise every time I listen to it. Short and to the point, with no whacking around the bush.

Orpheus Listening Challenge 2023: #40 An album you've not heard from one of your favorite artists (15th album)

Oh yeah, this one is a dud. It's just a mangled, lo-fi, harrowing tape of 10 songs recorded on a tape recorder somewhere on the road. The only positive thing I can say is that here you can hear somewhat of a progression from early Molina to peak Molina we will get to hear on subsequent albums. Other than that... maybe you can make the case... yeah no. Whatever you try to say, other albums have done it better. Skip this.

Honestly, the album feels really rocky to me. Like, there are the building blocks you'll be accustomed to on his later releases, but the album as a whole feels really distant from his later material. The songwriting feels a whole lot more cryptic and distant, at least for me, but the atmosphere is still there.

If you're a fan of Jason's material (like yours truly) you should listen to this one for the sake of listening to it, but if you're just a passing soul, skip it and only play a select few songs like Cabwaylingo, Blue Jay, and Our Republic.

EDIT: Okay, Crab Orchard also bops

Protection Spells is sorta like. Both are recorded on tour and are pretty much forgotten in the discography. Still, unlike The Ghost, Protection Spells is an album of much better production value, which significantly boosts my enjoyment of the thing.

On a song to song basis, it's nothing overtly spectacular. It's not bad, but it's lacking. It's much closer to and with the sparse slowcore-infused folk than it is to, let's say, the emotional fervor of, which automatically tells you all you need to know. If you like the opener, you'll like the rest of the album the same.

I guess you can point out, from the standpoint that this was recorded on the road, and in one take, that Jason had a beautiful talent to capture the moment exactly how it felt at that point in time.

Mi sei apparso come un fantasma (a rough translation of She Came To Me As A Ghost) is arguably Jason's best live performance.

Recorded just after the release of, this live album is exactly what Jason's career was like in the early 2000s: slow-cutting lonely musings with angry crescendo moments, this time backed by an actual band, fleshing out the recording significantly.

The package contains a few songs that are untitled and are so far unreleased (which I'll reference by their given name), and a few tracks from The Lioness and his s/t debut.

Because of the full band backing previously mentioned, the songs on here gain a new life, and sound so intimate yet so full of energy. Cabwaylingo went from being a sparse melody, to becoming this big, confident rocker of a track, and the others are full of instrumental passages that were really lacking on the studio versions.

My overall feelings towards this are very positive. Jason was a prolific musician on the stage, and while most of his live catalog is stunning, this album has it all: intimacy, loneliness, anger, energy and most importantly, passion. A essential in the discography of Jason Molina.

The only thing I'm slightly mad about is that the album was released on some backwater label, and is pretty impossible to rerelease.

OK so, Jason realized that writing sad songs with the backdrop of civil war isn't going to cut it, so what does he do? Well, he still writes sad songs, but this time, they're PURELY sad songs. And it's much better!

The opener here, An Ace Unable to Change, is the main course meal of the entire album. With its groaning organs, sparse drumming, rolling guitars, and Jason's wailing and highly introspective lyrics, it's the first song that I can say implements the formula that I like Jason for. As for the rest of the album, it's very serviceable. They are richer in texture, less doom-and-gloom, and a lot shorter, but are still very much melancholic, and introspective, and have this veil of darkness around them.

The musical equivalent of wandering deep inside a forest, with an eerie and unshakeable feeling that the slow wander might be your last. From its blunt guitar strum in Lightning Risked It All, to the ethereal sounds of the closer Incantation, we're taken on a trip through the final thoughts of a person far gone.

Pitchfork wrote that this is the sound of an "Ecuadorian hut", but in my opinion, it couldn't be more far from it. These are the sounds of the tundra and mountains. Rain falling among the trees, winds howling and piercing your body, and the Aurora slowly sucking out the life from you.

A frequent topic of conversation in the circles of Jason Molina listeners is actually where the line is drawn between his work as and Jason himself said that the story of Songs: Ohia ends with this album, while all other sources claim otherwise, that Magnolia Electric Co. is the last album.

And really, from one point of view, Didn't It Rain sounds like Jason wanted this to be the last album in the Songs: Ohia catalog. The s/t song is unlike the rest of the songs Jason has written, full of cautious optimism. Cautious, but it is still some kind of optimism and the desire to lead the inexperienced on the right path. Stylistically, very similar to the previous one, but much more vocally similar to, in the sense that it has that vigor and energy that adorns that album.

The highlights of the album are the opening song that I have already described, but also the trio at the end of the album, Blue Factory Flame, Two Blue Lights, and Blue Chicago Moon. It's only when I'm writing this that I realize that all three songs have blue in the name, which is not surprising because if I had to use one color to describe these songs, it would be that dark, deep blue, but just bright enough to be navigable. All three songs have a characteristic Molina sound, but with a touch of accessibility for passing listeners. And again, with a touch of optimism and a cry for a change in your ways.

To me, probably an album in the top 5 of his entire studio discography.

I kind of find this album a small step toward the promise land. Coming between, which was a slow, sparse, and melancholic trip, and the atmospheric brooding and longing of, tries to bridge the gap, and it kinda goes in this weird direction of classic Jason mixed with rockish and, dare I say, upbeat elements.

On the other hand, it's nice hearing Jason go in a bit of a different direction. The opener adds those grittier elements, Captain Badass mixes his folk roots with jazz drumming, but sadly there's a lot to be desired, especially compared to albums he would release after this. Some songs are shorter, some are too long, and they lack the all-out emotional onslaught and power, but it's definitely an album that gives optimism and something that would give fans a reason to eagerly await his next outing.

Too ambitious. Four tracks that are all suites which start good, but end up meandering too much by the end,

Of course, they're all great musicians, and the whole way through you can hear how meticulously planned it all sounds, but that fire gets lost due to the thing that was supposed to make it great: it's grandiosity. It takes very hard musical movements like jazz, classical, and the brutal side of prog and stitches them together into a hodgepodge that's hard to digest. Maybe if I forced it more down my earhole, it would become a favorite of mine?

These guys sure know how to party. Dancy goth rock for the deep European basements. Cold and really infectious, like the song Roller Ball, which is an aggressive banger of a song that leaves you with nothing but your will to just dance it out.

But my favorite, oddly enough, is the opener, Repeature. It's such a a great slow punk blues song. Shame it's the only song of that vibe, and that it's an instrumental.

The rest is ominous stuff, with tense guitars and sparse arrangements. Wish more European bands did this brand of goth rock and post-punk.

Miladin's second album is even better than his first. The singer-songwriter added even more substance and depth to an already impressive outing.

The content is much more oriented towards unrequited and failed love than the predecessor. The arrangments and producing work is much deeper, which can be attributed to more artistic freedom, and the general sense of knowing where to go musically can be heard as well.

This would ultimately be his final album, as he took quite a few steps back after the death of his sister. In retrospect, he could've been a worthy rival to the likes of Balasevic and Dragojevic, but I guess it's sometimes better to step away when you're ahead.

Well, I might be biased, but this album is good, even if it's not anything special (and maybe even dated). Not a lot of singer-songwriters around these parts, but even with that in mind, he still had to compete with a few heavy hitters that would easily dominate the west had they were born there, and I can say for certain, thanks to this album, Miladin put out a compelling case for being the best of his craft around these parts.

His voice and pen skills echo a lot of melancholy, probably a bit too much for an average young listener. A lot of themes circle here: love, friendship, protest, you name it, but in its core, it's an album full of mature musicianship with a lot of passion for the craft and homage to a lot of contemporaries from around the globe.

To be brutally honest, the only reason I decided to listen to this album this morning is that it's on the Rough Guide section of Smog's artist page, so I said let's see what it's all about, because surprisingly I've never turned on this album, and the tags attracted me (and anyone who knows me even a little, knows that I go to sad and angry tags faster than a child to sweets).

The big problem with this album is that, after you become familiar with the rest of Smog's discography (and Bill Callahan eventually), the whole album gets pretty bad. Or is it my general aversion to the indie/lo-fi sound, which this album abounds in. Anyway, through the album you can see somewhere in the distance that sound for which Smog/Bill will be known not only later in his career, but already on the next album. Songs like "Sleepy Joe" and "The Candle" excel in just that. I don't want to say that the album is bad, far from it. The aforementioned two songs have a passing quality, as well as "Prince Alone In The Studio" and "Goldfish Bowl" (which reminds me of Radiohead), but it's just not what I like from him.

Summa summarum: if you're just starting to delve into this artist's catalog, skip this album and start with Knock Knock (or any later album)

An album about moving forward in life, past the abuse, the broken love, the abandoned home, etc. If you've listened to his previous albums, you can find many parts that harken back to them, but different to them, Knock Knock employs lusher and more complete instrumentals, as if Bill is trying to distance himself from slowcore infused folk in and and, well, venture out.

And as is with most trips, you get to see a lot of stuff you won't see at home (Held, Cold Blooded Old Times, Hit the Ground Running), and at some point, you start becoming homesick, and yearn for your home (River Guard, I Could Drive Forever, Left Only With Love). But most of the time, you just end up driving, passing stories, enjoying the asphalt underneath your wheels, and making memories you will one day return to once you're older and far from your adventurous youth.

A slower pace, more emotional tone, and an overarching sense of anger of sorts is what adorns this album. A lot of good songs here, with nice variety, if you can look through some that are unnecessarily long.

What a beautiful album.

I've always seen this album as a perfect ending to a part of Bill's catalog. Something about Smog, in general, oozes youthful experimentation, and to see a clear maturation in his work is a beautiful sight, and this album is like that one ending scene in the movie where the main character grows out of a phase and gives us a glimpse of what is to come.

Every song is intricately crafted and does a great job of weaving a story through it, and ultimately giving advice, if you look into it. Highly recommended album if you want to look past the classic singer/songwriters like Dylan, Cohen, Elliott Smith, Joni Mitchell, etc., and get into lesser-known singer-songwriter territory.

Also, Joanna Newsom plays piano here, so there is that.

Ah, The Smiths. One day I'll think of them as geniuses and other days I'll think they're the most overrated band alongside Radiohead (yes, sue me).

For the longest time I held the opinion that this album is overrated and that the only saving grace of this album is A3, A4, and B4, but the last time I listened, I tried approaching this album from another angle. The depressed indie 16yo angle. And boy, let me tell you, if you look at this album from that angle, it makes sense why people like this album. It radiates "that's to me" energy, it's not even funny.

Jokes aside, I can see why people love this album. Marr's playing is beautiful, Morrissey has some lyrics that make you stop and think about them, it's quintessential I get it, and I would've probably sworn by it if I heard the full thing whilst I was in high school dealing with breakups and not fitting in. But now, I find it sappy, aside from the aforementioned tracks up there, which I have heard when I was younger. I'd rather listen to Hatful, than this tbh.

Let's start off by saying I respect this album and everything Patti Smith stands for. That being said, there's very little I find worthwhile on this. Gloria is a great punk rocker, but the rest doesn't quite find that level of fire. The poetry is good, but in an album setting it feels pretentious and forced. The rest is generic garage rock in a style that grinds my ears.

Whispery vocals with acoustic guitars (also known as indie folk) is a genre that generally doesn't sit well with me, and this album is no exception. Elliott tries to mix and match styles, jumping from twee pop, to folk, slacker rock, and even at times, slowcore, but clumsily tripping around and creating a characteristic sound that lingers around to this day (maybe that's the charm). He does have a way with words, I'll give him that, but I'd rather read the lyrics as a book of poetry than listen to this.