Album Club Selection #21: John Murry - The Graceless Age

So Sun Kil Moon kinda started as a band, but it has since turned into just a Mark Kozelek solo project--he not only writes and sings 100% of the material, but on some of the albums he's even the only musician. (Red House Painters was his earlier band and was, again, a real band at the beginning but was pretty much just a solo project towards the end.)

Kozelek is crazy talented. He's got a lovely baritone, he's a killer guitarist, and a writer of startling insight and honesty. He turned towards a journalist approach--and by that I mean in the "diary" sense of journal, in that he began writing lyrics which seemed more like stream-of-consciousness recountings of his day. Which at first was revelatory and deeply engaging, but after a half dozen records just feels like laziness.

The big problem, though, is that a Pitchfork article revealed that he's been, charitably, a creep towards a number of his fans over the years. He's gone, I think, radio silent in the 18 or so months since and I don't really miss him. But the revelations do make it a bit hard to listen to his old stuff; in fact, I haven't really, since. And for a few years there, he was my favorite artist of this century, so that really sucked.

Here's his deconstruction of one of my all-time favorite pop confectionaries:

He did that with a lot of songs, and as far as I can tell, it was never meant to be ironical or tongue in cheek.

Here's the first song I ever heard by him--it made me laugh at the time and still makes me smile:

Sunshine in Chicago makes me think about my dad It was eight or nine siblings I am told that he had When summertime came, his parents put him on a bus And sent him to his Uncle's in Chicago for three months

Sunshine in Chicago makes me feel pretty sad My band played here a lot in the nineties when we had Lots of female fans and fuck, they all were cute Now, I just sign posters for guys in tennis shoes

His 2014 album Benji hit most of the year-end best of lists, and deservedly so. But I'm even more drawn to the gothic acoustic stuff like this earlier track which answers the question no one asked: "what if Nick Drake had Steve Hackett as his guitarist?"

Thanks for the info Scott. Interested ‘til I got to the 3rd para. Another Ryan Adams type scenario? I know folks argue that you can separate the art from the individual. However I do find that tough with popular music when you are listening to an individuals emotional expression within a lyric, knowing that aspects of their behaviour are deeply problematic to you. Hell, I struggle with Stray Cat Blues & Brown Sugar these days.

I'm with you on that 100%. All of it. For me, much of the dividing line is whether or not the artist is still alive to financially profit from my buying/listening/watching/whatever. Someone dead? I am much less conflicted, especially if they're long dead. Whether or not an actual crime has been committed also factors in, although perhaps not greatly. But, yes, it's easier (for me) to sometimes try to ignore when an actor has been a creep than when it's a singer singing the word he himself wrote.

A few weeks back, I had Aftermath playing. The very first time through the chorus of "Stupid Girl," my 16-year-old looked up, looked at the speakers, then slowly turned to me with an expression of "what the fuck, Dad?" on her face. I skipped to the next song, but ended up just turning the album off. Still like the Stones, still like the album—although the song's never been a favorite, to put it mildly—but it felt weird. I know the history, I get the point...but...I put on the Pretenders instead.

Understand that Bill, not for everyone which was why I thought I better put a health warning on it. But if you’re in the right mood…….

Subsequent records are a bit lighter, but only a bit.