Pitchfork

Brent wrote a review of the National Skyline EP yesterday. But I was supposed to review it! You see, I have the CD sitting right here just waiting for me to go off about it. Brent figured it would be a lot of fun to write about-- probably because he knew that he could riff on the sterile Canadian escalators on the cover in some witty fashion and talk about his famous reviewer lifestyle and his satin jacket and how great he is. Brent doesn't care about us other reviewers. We're out here just tryin' to get by and do right by the music, but he just reviews whatever pleases him, lets his girlfriends rate the albums, and eats steaks all day. We're friends, though. He knows my real name.

So I guess I'm left with this John Denver tribute album to review. That's fine, though, because John and I go way back-- all the way back an Orioles/A's game in the summer of '97 when I saw him sing in Baltimore. You see, at every Orioles home game they play "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" during the seventh inning stretch. I think it's been a tradition since he first released the song back in 1974. Anyway, John happened to be attending this game and they announced his presence over the P.A. system. He stepped out on top of the A's dugout and led the crowd in a rousing rendition of clapping to the beat of the song. This brought back memories of my mom and her John Denver record collection and the countless songs I'd forgotten he wrote or performed. I didn't realize the gift I received that day. John died in October of that year. Had the game been his last live performance? Does clapping count?

You like John Denver. I know you do. Come on! If you say you don't, you haven't listened to enough of his songs. Ignore whatever song he's written that annoys you and start fresh. I know he's done something you'll like. This is a guy who looks like he's having the time of his life on every album cover. How could anyone hate that? Mark Kozelek of the Red House Painters doesn't. He produced this Tribute thing. He also contributed three tracks-- one with Rachel Goswell of Mojave 3, and two with his band. At first, I was put off by that. "Why didn't he just do all the songs himself?" I wondered. But I was relieved by the variation of the three tracks-- they're instrumental, sparse, and sad, respectively.

Take Me Home is thick with melancholy, perhaps a secret sorrow expressed by each of the artists for Denver's passing. They'd grown up with him and probably owe at least a tribute song to his memory. Bonnie "Prince" Billie (aka Will Oldham of Palace for those who didn't see our "Top 10 of '99" list) leads off with an a capella version of "The Eagle and the Hawk." The song would have fit perfectly at the beginning of I See a Darkness. (And it beats the shit out his contribution to Grand Royal's Groovebox compilation.)

Next up is a song I remember from church gatherings at the children's folk mass in Chelmsford, Massachusetts: "Follow Me." The Innocence Mission play this one with all the stops pushed in-- it's stripped down and beautiful. As is "Poems, Prayers, and Promises," performed by Rachel Haden from good ole That Dog. Her voice is layered during the chorus, making this the fullest song on the album yet. Which leads perfectly into the Red House Painters' instrumental version of "Fly Away," a track which completely took me by surprise. The layers of electric guitar navel-fuzz are perfect-- it stands out as one of the most original interpretation on the record. Mark Kozelek and Rachel Goswell take us back down from our elevation with an excellent acoustic take on "Around and Around."

From here, it's hit or miss (though mostly hit). The next highlight is the Sunshine Club's "Annie's Song," one of my favorites from childhood. James Hindle does a great "Whispering Jesse," and Tarnation's "Leaving on a Jet Plane" invents a new genre: soap opera organ country-trip-dub. (You heard me.) Low channels John Denver's ghost in the haunting "Back Home Again," speaking for him from beyond the grave in what would have been a perfect closer had Kozelek not wanted the spot for his own band. Luckily, Red House Painters close it out with a fine version of "I'm Sorry." I would have swapped the two, but hey, I wasn't managing this team.

I bet that Brent is just setting down to enjoy a nice steak dinner at Morton's now. I can just see him in his satin Pitchfork blazer, flanked by a couple of Hefner's bunny ladies. He's receiving kudos on his National Skyline review while grabbing for some wine to wash down the gristle he hasn't been able to chew up for the past three minutes. Me, I'm here looking for my old "Calypso" 7-inch.