this country will know us by name

29 November 2006 by julietb

so tonight the seaside calls us, the salty winds of the south coast will be whipping through our (really great) hair as we chomp fish and chips on the promenade and before disappearing into the toasty warmth of the prince albert to see two of my favourite artists ever play up close and personal sets.

i’ve posted frequently on the genius that is josh tillman but his friend and headliner for acousti-fest is Damien Jurado.

Damien Jurado is band.

And a man.

He has some kind of unique talent for storytelling.

On long nights, I’m surprised how noisy the crackle of my bedlinen is in my ears. It should be quiet, reassuring; should be the noise of warmth and comfort as I roll over with my duvet up to my chin and try to get to sleep but then there’s that scratchy rustle of cotton and feathers which recalls how simple things like a warm, safe, quiet place to sleep don’t come as easy as I’d always like.

That’s what his songs are like.

A master lyricist after the American tradition of Springsteen’s vignette laden radio friendly epics, Damien Jurado’s turn of phrase can reduce a life story to four minutes.
Damien Jurado’s songs have something to say about life.

About struggle. About being human in a fallen world. About fallibility and faith.

Some of his protagonists are aware of their failings, some are not.
Some seek redemption, while others offer no apology.

And some are just in love.

But most all are struggling.

Not wanting to get too jazz on you, it’s often what he doesn’t say in his lyrics which is the stuff to listen out for.

He could redeem and romanticise his heroes; could offer solutions and happy endings and trite repeat to fade choruses but he leaves in all the bad bits and makes you do some of the hard work.

It is the honesty in what he does which is disarming as his voice.

Sure there’s a plethora of lovely melodies, a couple of chirpy love songs and beautiful soaring harmonies from the always adorable Rosie Thomas and more recently band mate and cellist Jenna Conrad, amongst others but the humanity of Damien Jurado’s work, the brutal honesty and aching fragility of what he writes deserves attention.

Unsettling frankness, like noisy bedlinen is something I figure we could all occasionally do with a little more of…
Here is a track from his last album, Where Shall You Take Me (its for a friend… but you can all enjoy it)
Damien Jurado - I Can’t Get Over You

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