Codeine – The White Birch 9.2

Slowcore exists only in the winter for me. I don’t know why, but when winter gets here, it feels like it lasts forever. Maybe that has to do with its very uniform approach: cold and sad. The White Birch, Codeine’s last album, has remained a staple for winters ever since I first heard it. Lacking any sort of happiness, it kind of embodies the winter for me: plain, dull, and a black hole of emotion. 

Each time as I see my breath in the cold air, the songs pop into my head. It works as some kind of genetic disposition. Unlike a lot of slowcore, it tends to be a bit more experimental, mixing occasional blasts of anger and volume. These elements are used almost as punctuation throughout the album.

Length-wise, it is a relatively short album, clocking in at about 43 minutes. Things get started with a quiet, clean song “Sea”. Usually if a band starts out with a long song, it means they have some sort of faith in it. That faith is justified here. It set the tone for what’s in store for you, easing you in slowly to the angst.

Angst abounds throughout the album. Somehow it avoids being whiny. Resigned would be a better term for it, the singer/speaker doesn’t appear particularly distraught at the point. He’s still working through all the motions, and you get to experience them with him. Honestly, I want more singers in this vein, but it seems that it was more acceptable in the early 90s, when emotions were allowed to be real. 

“Loss Leader” includes a great amount of distortion and volume. One of the album highlights comes across as a disturbed valentine, a beautiful song called “Vacancy”. Perhaps this is the closest they come to anything resembling happiness. The tempo continues at the pace of molasses, at points coming across more as decoration than as keeping time. 

Towards the end we get the border personality disorder of “Wird”. Veering radically between near silence and frustrated noise, it is a dozy. If there was going to be a song you could compare to Slint on here, it would be this piece. They channel Slint’s rage and confusion. It moves from noise, to silence, to gorgeous melody. 

If you need to stay in on a boring winter night feeling kind of down, you could do far worse than these guys. What is surprising is after you’re done, you feel better.

Low – I could live in Hope 9.6

This is the most ambitious quiet music I’ve ever heard. Since autumn comes in full swing, with sweaters being brought out of the closets, I figured now would be a good time. Listening to such quiet music, it is like the knee jerk reaction to loud, stupid, overbearing mainstream music. 

“I could live in Hope” avoids most of the egoism of rock and roll. None of the players appear to be particularly interested in soloing at any time. Rather, the sum is greater than the total of their parts. By the way, they don’t actually rock. There’s nothing on this album to indicate such a thing.

Most of their music following this album followed a similar format. Vocals seem to float together in space. The bass appears to be particularly prominent, though that may also be due to the lack of volume. According to legend, during their first few performances, they got heckled for their quiet attitude. Rather than satisfy those annoying Duluth crowds, they put the volume down. Now if that isn’t the most polite punk thing to do, I don’t know what is.

Slowcore basically got invented by these guys. From the beginning of their career, they knew how to keep things moving at the pace of molasses. Plus, in case being slow wasn’t enough, they stripped down rock to a guitar, bass, and the sparest drum kit known to man.

“Words” starts things off sort of explaining their mindset. The lyrics “Too many words” and “I can’t hear them” dive deep into your brain, as does the vocal delivery. It is a unique delivery. “Down” and “Drag” are probably some of their best songs to date.

Autumn marks the beginning of browned lawns and dead leaves. I really think the album sort of captures that quiet desperation. Unlike Codeine, the music doesn’t get particularly experimental. No loud surprises are in store for you; just one of the few bands carving out their own niche in an overcrowded field.

A Mix CD for Glenn Beck

Glenn Beck plays an emotionally unstable teenager on television. People watch him out of the hope that he will ‘lose it’ on the air. Sadly for them, Glenn only cries like a small child all the time. Most of the time he’s predicting some sort of catastrophe based off of what tea leaves on the bottom of a cup tells him. After he’s done crying (crying usually takes up half the air time) he teaches the audience 5^th history, including such unknown historical figures like George Washington and Benjamin Franklin. Beck states how these people probably would support his efforts today before making several voices and passing out from sheer insanity. Those who watch him consider his word to be pure “genius” despite the fact that he never even went to college or displays anything popularly known as ‘intelligence’.

I worry about Glenn. Each time he’s on TV or being interviewed, he’s always getting really vulnerable, talking about how he used to be an alcoholic and doing a ton of drugs. But now that he’s overcome his failings, he feels it is his right to not allow anyone else on Earth any sort of leeway

.

Below is a playlist I’ve created that might help Glenn through this difficult period in his life called “his actual life” Maybe when he listens to it, he can finally relax with some diet soda as he pretends to rock out. 

1.       Galaxie 500 – Fourth of July

Since Glenn loves America so much, this might do the trick for him. I can imagine him playing air guitar at the end, as he bops his head up and down in front of a fan, to give the illusion that he is bringing down the house.

2.       The Pixies – Havalina

I think that Glenn Beck probably has a soft spot in his heart for the Pixies. They were around while his life was total garbage. Plus, he can then imagine being chased by the pigs in Washington (that’s what the song is about, kind of).

3.       Low – Words

Yeah, Low will reach his very soul. Perhaps this song will make him cry, as he realizes that they embody all that is good with slowcore. They are Mormons just like him, and they understand what he’s going through, that is, if they had a TV show and made millions of dollars a year.

4.       Rodan – Tooth Fairy Retribution Manifesto

Whenever I think of the words “paranoid”, “uncomfortable” and “American”, Rodan comes to mind. Glenn feels like the tooth fairy. He takes away our ignorance and leaves pure country-fried wisdoms under our pillows, along with nightmares. 

5.       Shellac – Dog and Pony Show

Up to this point, there’s been less anger. Steve Albini is probably the only indie rock musician capable of reaching Beck’s seething, misdirected rage. Plus, there’s talk of being a preacher, which is something Glenn most currently thinks of himself as, so I know he’ll enjoy this.

6.       Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 – The Operation

Yes, I know it seemed hardly the place for an operation. According to what Glenn thinks about socialized medicine, this may scare him greatly, thinking doctors will operate on Americans in public squares. But that dual bass attack might win him over to the idea. 

7.       The Sea and Cake – Choice Blanket

After the reminder of public health care, he might need a mellow track. “Choice Blanket” sounds like something Astrud Gilberto would’ve sung, had she been more rock inclined. 

8.        Codeine – Vacancy

So there’s a lot of slowcore on this mix, I know that. I want there to be a lot of exposed, raw emotions on here. Glenn’s hurting. His heart yearns for love, hugs, chocolate, sunshine, kittens, happiness, pretty flowers, 2 for 1 sale at Target, Ecto cooler coming back, and more. At least now he’ll know he’s not alone in his suffering.

9.       Tortoise – Gamera

One of the sweetest songs Tortoise ever wrote. This will help Glenn relax, maybe he’ll decide to mediate or do yoga as this plays. 

10.   Bedhead – The Present

This will end things off. I think Glenn will relate to the lyrics about living in the past rather than the present. Here, sing along with him:

It's always this year's gift
Is it ever what I wanted
Was I unhappy living in the past
Has my growth been that stunted
When to be ashamed is to be defined
And all this self-awareness
The blind led by the blind
An empty conscience is sensitivity
I have to pretend I'm overcome with humility
It always comes on time
Not a second before the instant
But this year I think I'd rather be a relic
Than part of the present

If you noticed, I kept all the music references within the early 90s. That’s probably the last time Glenn had his finger on the musical pulse, so going all nostalgic with him might allow him to pay closer attention. But we’re all worried about him going crazy on TV, some tuning in for that. Others put him on mute and watch his facial contortions as he does “Kermit the Frog” impressions. Let’s hope this reaches him in time.