Showing posts with label tracy shedd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tracy shedd. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Arizona (redo)



Tracy Shedd
Arizona    
(New Granada 2013)

Back on January 15th of this year, I posted a “review” of Tracy Shedd’s fifth album Arizona, which was released in November of last year.  I put “review” in quotes, because it was really some kind of attempt to capture the feel of the album without the usual rundown of hyperbole.  It was framed as a letter to a long lost flame from a long time ago, who, rumor had it, was struggling with debilitating depression.  It was part album review, part letter in earnest, and part fiction.  It felt wrong the moment I posted it, but decided to stick with it hoping that it would seem better in retrospect (you can see the mess here).  But, as I listen to this album for about the 3,000th time right now, after contemplating my favorite records of the year (see here), I thought I’d revisit and try to correct – or maybe make things worse.

This 2013 album turned out to be my favorite album of 2014.  This is in large part due to the fact that it speaks to me in a deeply personal way.  These songs are about a good many things, but I have tended to decipher the bulk of these as a message of support to someone in crisis.  The song “Control” addresses suicide directly.  Shedd pleas to a person on the verge by simply saying to them “don’t end it all tonight.”  It doesn’t get more direct than that, nor does it ever fail to send shivers down my spine.  This direct communication may be part of why this album has been so powerful for me.  Shedd conveys a comfortable environment that’s about appreciating those we love around us (“and I’ll miss you when you’re gone” – “Take a Ride”), and the memories that can carry us through the worst of times (“Boats,” “Million Pictures”), and by giving a genuine heart to heart plea to someone to not throw all of these things away, as in “Control” and “You’re No Fool,” her music and lyrics act as a guiding light to those of us who are genuinely in dark places.  She says the things that need to be heard – the things that more often than not are not ever conveyed.  How does one broach the subject of depression to their friends and family?  How does one ask for help?  How does one help someone in need?  It’s not as easy as it seems like it should be.

This record is not only lyrically direct, but also musically.  These songs are stripped down to mainly the twin acoustic guitars of Tracy Shedd and her husband James Tritten.  Their interplay is seamless.  Tritten plucks out clear, memorable, and fully realized guitar melodies – making the spare arrangements seem greater than the sum of their parts, yet not so much so that the personal nature of Shedd’s lyrics gets buried in the mix.  This album feels and sounds like a few really talented friends gathered right in front of you playing amazing songs.  Her choice of covers (The Magnetic Field’s early classic “Candy” and Sonic Youth’s breakthrough steamroller “Teenage Riot”) is remarkable as well.  These are songs that have always resonated with me and have provided strong memories, yet framed in this sparse environment “Teenage Riot” is like a brand new song. 

The quiet solitude of the opening “Sweet Talking” is a concise love song that covers the joy of being with a loved one and the hope for it to continue all the way till death in a meager two and a half minutes.  Likewise, the beautiful “Sing to Me” balances between both the closeness needed in life and the despair of death.  This dichotomy continues on “Friday Night at Einstein’s” – a story about losing oneself on the dance floor (reminding thematically of The Sundays’ flowing “She”) that is both life-affirming and lonely.  Elsewhere the lighter touch of the duet “All the Little Things” brightens the overall feel of the record, as does the chorus of the soul searching “Million Pictures,” and the summery and hummable “Broken Arrows,” who’s mantra of “you can die trying / or you can die with a broken heart” is still a rallying cry that resonates and reminds to keep on giving this shit show an effort.

This redo plus the strange letter review from January may together make this review a little more complete, but I’m afraid I’m still missing the mark (part of the reason in general why I may give this writing about music hobby a permanent rest).  Simply put, and probably all I’ve needed to say is: Arizona is an album that is humble and subtle, but one of great magnitude and impact.  I cannot recommend this with any greater enthusiasm.




 
Tracy Shedd "Broken Arrows"


 

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Arizona




Dear K*****,

I know it’s been forever and ever.  Not sure if this email address even works anymore, so I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough if this gets returned after hitting send.

Right now I’m listening to a recent album from the wonderful singer/songwriter Tracy Shedd titled Arizona.  I’ve always kind of taken her talent for granted since first learning of her through one of those cheap Teen Beat Records samplers I used to always buy around the turn of the century (do you remember “Circles” from that last mix tape I sent just before I went in for the kidney removal surgery?).  All five of her albums are excellent, and yet I’m pretty sure that I’m not listening to them enough and telling everyone I can about them loudly enough.  This new one though has really hit me at the right time.  Apparently, it is almost entirely acoustic guitars, aside from a from a few little added touches here or there, but I swear I listened this thing three or four times before I realized how stripped down and spare this actually is.  I have been so enraptured in her words and voice and the delicate and memorable melodies provided by the twin acoustic guitars that nothing has ever felt like it was missing.

Why has it been such a profound listen right now?  Well, 2013 was overall a pretty lackluster year.  It was filled with my usual health uncertainties, more heartbreak, and just a general distaste, as I noticed in retrospect that many of my old standby hobbies and habits have gone by the wayside.  Many of the old comforts don’t really do the trick anymore and I’m not sure why or what to do or where to turn next.  I simply know that it’s time to find a new direction and I’m starting to find some solace in that idea.

I don’t want this to be about me, except to say that I have serious self-doubt about contacting you again after all of this time and so absolutely out of the blue.  But I’m worried about you.  Rumor has it that you have not been in a good place of late and I wish to offer you my distant support.  And I think Tracy Shedd offers up a notion, in her song “Broken Arrows”: “You can die trying, or you can die with a broken heart,” where I’m not totally sure these are the only options available (besides the dying part), but I’m taking her thought as a kick in the butt for 2014.  I’m tired of not trying things I want to achieve for fear of whatever, so to hell with it!

“Walking down memory lane
You took me by surprise
I was homesick and blue
Thinking about what to do”
                                                           -from “Sweet Talking”

Tracy Shedd does a fantastic cover of the old Magnetic Fields song “Candy” that I put on the first mix tape I ever sent you back in ‘93.  Do you remember when we last parted?  We were listening to the Magnetic Fields’ “100,000 Fireflies” on your turntable, when you gave me a hug and placed a simple rubber band on my wrist to tell me that I should wear one as a reminder that there will always be ‘someone’ out there who cares.  Well, that always meant the world to me and sometimes I find myself wearing five or six rubber bands at a time – during those most distressing moments.  I don’t think I can ever repay you for that show of support, but my offers of heartfelt music have always been my return gift.  Shedd also closes the album with a cover of Sonic Youth’s now legendary “Teenage Riot,” which you never liked, because it was ‘worthless noise,’ while I always argued that the song was ‘artful dissonance.’  I think you’d really like this version though, because she turns the onrush of the original into something slow-paced and clear, putting a focus on its thoughtful distillation of our times - besides Howie Gelb from Giant Sand, who you always liked, sings the song along with Tracy.

“Oh, if I’m gonna sit down
And listen to this
Oh, I’ll need a stiff drink
To get me through
Oh, nothing is certain
And no one is perfect
Oh, and you’re no fool
You’re just a little lost”
                                                     -from “You’re No Fool”

It’s the bulk of this album though that feels like it should be the metaphorical rubber band as my gift to you – hell, I’ll mail order a copy for you!  Tracy Shedd’s words are so perfectly straightforward and free of useless complications.  She is direct and lets the power of her phrasing and her beautiful voice and melodies to hammer home whatever emotions she sets out to evoke.  She is clearly singing from the point of view of having someone in her life deal with some serious shit - someone who is on the brink, as she boldly sings on the song “Control”: “don’t end it all tonight / you have a life to live.”  It is a simple message but her soaring voice drives her worried plea home overwhelmingly.

I can only hope that you are not at such a terrible point.  Life is often painful, frustrating and extremely difficult to deal with, but it’s something that we all have to do our best to persevere in order to reach those moments of sheer joy and inspiration that make it all feel like we each have value and that are lives are meaningful.  It’s music like this album that always remind me that we all go through tragic times and that it’s okay to take comfort in the poetic words of great artists such as Tracy - it's life-affirming.  You have always been a spark and the first person to help your family, friends and anyone you come in contact with.  It is time to focus your amazing healing powers inward and help yourself for once and to realize that you will always have someone out there supporting you in spirit. 

                                                                                                                                                       Warmest Wishes,

                                                                                                                                                                      Chris.


Tracy Shedd
Arizona
(New Granada 2013)

 http://tracyshedd.wordpress.com/