Before we get into my 1000 Minutes for the week, we have an announcement. We’ve been writing this blog for nearly a year, and to celebrate our impending birthday, we’re putting together a concert on at The Bug Jar here in Rochester on Saturday, March 6. It’s a little early to start talking about it, yeah, but we’re excited. We’ll keep the bands under wraps for the time being, so be on the lookout for those. Let’s get back into some music:
This week’s installment of my 1000 Minutes project finds me repeating a band I’ve talked about before. If you’re unsure of what the hell I’m talking about, check out the full list through the above link.
After hearing their first album, I never would have figured Kings of Leon to become arguably one of the biggest bands on the planet. The girl who I was seeing at the time of their debut refused to listen to the album after the first time I played it for her. That’s not to say I loved it at first listen – because I didn’t. But when I go back to it, their success seems almost a foregone conclusion.
Youth and Young Manhood is everything that you could hope for in a debut – scuffed-up blues rock with a formidable lead singer. It’s primal and raw and almost sexual; hearing it now, I can almost smell the cigarettes and whiskey. Kings of Leon – at least on their debut – are a band to live vicariously through. And “Joe’s Head” – the most pop-centric offering on the album – is all southern drawl and high summer skies. And it’s so good that it’s the murders described in the lyrics seems almost justifiable.
I was never a big Dave Matthews fan. In my high school, attending a Dave Matthews Band concert was a rite of passage; I didn’t fulfill that until about 5 years after leaving high school, and I was disappointed. But that’s just me. I have some of Dave Matthews music, but it doesn’t affect me like a lot of people my age. I will say one thing for Mr. Matthews – he could sing just about anything and make it sound pretty amazing.
“#41” is exactly that. It’s apparently written about an argument between him and a collegue – but it sounds much more uplifting than something that’s ultimately so banal. I like this version the best; it unfolds at a perfect pace, and Tim Reynolds is pretty spectacular in and of himself.