Jack McManus

Jack hails from Cambridge, MA and currently attends college in snowy Central New York. He was raised on a strict diet of his father's Bruce Springsteen and Clancy Brothers records and has since developed a taste for American folk music, jam bands and indie rock. He used to play the saxophone and currently pretends to play guitar and stuff like that. He spends his summers driving boats on Block Island and knows more about 18th-century pirates than anybody else he knows.

 
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YouTube Link: Ours, Joe Pug
Sometimes it can be detrimental, or even dangerous to love a set of songs too much. This happened to me with Joe Pug’s Nation of Heat EP, which I became so attached to that I found myself illogically predisposed to reject any new songs that Joe put out. Maybe its an effect of being burned too many times in the past decade by disappointing Springsteen albums, but I instinctively approached Joe’s new album The Great Despiser with weary skepticism when it came out. I assumed it couldn’t possibly match up to the wonderful songs in his back catalog. After all my cynicsm though, I turned out completely wrong. The new songs, against all odds, are just as good as his older ones, if not better. Joe’s ability to develop and grow as a writer and performer is pretty astounding, especially as he gets slowly more famous. Rather than basking in his modest limelight it seems to be motivating him to dig deeper, leading him to explore what makes him so good as a songwriter and vocalist.

This song, “Ours,” has everything I’ve always loved about his music: insightful lyrics that pack meaning into every carefully selected word, original and clever melodic patterns and a general feeling of unadorned, bare elegance that holds your attention without distracting from Joe’s poetry. Somehow he speaks in everyday language, employing universal description to relate sentiments that resonate far below the surface. He says things we’ve all thought and we all understand, but only someone with his talents can form into words.  The ability to resist cliche and formula without resorting to drastic experimentation sets Joe apart from the droves of other meek guitar-strumming amateur philosophers out there, a feat much more impressive than most can appreciate. Listen to this whole album, its near flawless.

 

Sexual Healing, The Hot 8 Brass Band
I love ridiculous covers, and this one is about as ridiculous as they come. On this radical re-interpretation, the Hot 8 Brass Band turns Marvin Gaye’s seminal classic completely upside-down, contrasting the original in every possible way like Bizarro and Superman.  On “Sexual Healing,” Marvin is liquid smooth, intimate, gentle, delicate and tender; the Hot 8 Band are lively, boisterous, bold, excited and loud. Despite this seeming paradox, the cover actually succeeds in its own unique ways. The iconic bass line takes a more prominent position, played by the tubas, while an army of trumpets blast out the vocal melody during the head. The vocal section has a freewheeling, polyrhythmic feel to it, borrowing musical conventions from African-American spirituals. A few ripping solos come after that, keeping the energy up throughout. This track was the perfect pick-me-up last week when I was up late studying, and now it has become an ideal victory anthem having finished the semester. Hopefully anyone still toiling will find it as helpful as I did.

 
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Thinking About You, Frank Ocean
I’ve proclaimed my appreciation (okay, love) for Frank Ocean before on this site, but this weekend I watched the official Youtube footage of his Cochella performance, and this song hit me way harder than I expected it to. I downloaded this track when it surfaced at the end of last year, but until I saw him perform it live I never fully appreciated its genius. “Thinking About You” is a return to late ’80s and ’90s pop conventions, reviving a style that has attracted significant publicity in the past few months with the death of Whitney Houston, who basically perfected the art of the pop ballad. This art has largely been lost over the past decade, as hip-hop and pop have gradually been stirred together, creating Flo Rida and Ke$ha. While this song certainly contains elements of hip-hop (insert obligatory OFWGKTA reference here), Ocean’s lyrics and performance maintain a feeling of gravitas absent from most of today’s shallow pop and R&B.

With Frank working as a songwriter for other artists as well as his own projects, this version is actually a demo that he recorded to show the eventual recipient of this song, Bridget Kelly, the nuances of the vocal melody. Being a demo, Ocean’s vocal track was never intended to be heard by the public, which would have been a shame because its amazing. I have no qualms with the audio quality, and his dejected, sometimes lethargic delivery has so much more emotion and sentiment than the comparatively sterile and processed-sounding final version. Even though the gut-wrenching chorus seems obviously intended for a female vocalist, Ocean’s falsetto somehow fits perfectly, straining just enough to give it an extra punch of believable emotion but not so much that it sounds unpleasant. He also cruises the deadpan parts of the verses at just the right speed and level of enthusiasm. That being said, I’d love to hear Mariah Carey cover this, she would absolutely tear it apart. The song’s lyrics hover right on the edge of universal appeal and specificity, describing situations that easily could have happened to Frank personally while staying relatable for all listeners who have ever tried to balance short and long-term happiness. In almost every way, this song is vintage pop gold. Give it a listen, and if you’re curious check out Bridget Kelly’s final version here.

I’ve been thinking about you, do you think about me still?
Or do you not think so far ahead, ’cause I been thinking about forever 

 
RAC

Why Even Try (RAC Remix), Theophilus London
I liked the original version of this track for the most part when I first heard it last summer, but I found its overly-pronounced growly ‘80s bass line distracting, and honestly a little bit ugly. Lo and behold, the mighty Remix Artists Collective agreed with me, replacing the dirty bass part with a twinkling piano melody on their own remix of the track. This step towards pleasant bounciness completely rescues the track in my opinion. It stays just as danceable, but it opens up a sense of shimmering wonder that really feels great, especially through a pair of decent earbuds. This has become one of my favorite tracks to walk around the city to, especially as the nights start getting milder here in Dublin.  The tempo magically seems to match up its quarter notes with the length of my stride, turning walking into a type of secret dance that I randomly perform on the sidewalks, unbeknownst to my fellow pedestrians. The glissando in Sara Quin’s hook does get a little bit schmaltzy, but London’s crisp verses and backing vocals make that a small concern. Cheers to RAC for making a slightly flawed track into an immensely more enjoyable remix.

 

Patron Saint, Garret Baker
One of the most interesting discoveries I’ve made since coming over to Ireland has been a series of gatherings where Dublin’s Ukulele players congregate above a pub and swap songs for a few hours every month. Garret Baker, a singer-songwriter from the Dublin folk scene, is a regular at these events, and his songs alone have made attending these nights mandatory in my mind. After the last Uke Night I, unbeknownst to Garret, purchased his album The Magpie on Bandcamp and I’ve been enjoying it all month. He writes simple, approachable lyrics and has a penchant for dextrous fingerpicking, which you can hear on this track but shines even more without the production elements of this specific recording. In many ways, “Patron Saint” is a quintessentially Irish song- it has a sense of self-awareness and personal dejection that combines with the central Christian metaphor to capture feelings that the Irish have struggled with for the past few centuries of their history. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes and lost souls, and the lyrics of this song reflect the  contradictory nature of praying for a cause that seems fundamentally futile. The reverent irony in the track is supported by a generally introspective, tranquil sound that comes from the effects on his Ben Gibbard-esque voice and the gentle ukulele riff, which is interrupted only for the section of the song that actually takes the form of a prayer. The whole tune has a simple and depressing sense of beauty to it, mostly deriving from the images of personal difficulty, conflicted feelings and “pale-skinned wraiths.” It also has one of the most jarring first lines I’ve heard in awhile, immediately grabbing the listener’s attention and keeping it from the very beginning. Its well-crafted lyrically and musically- I look forward to the next Uke gathering to hear more of his material.

Check out more music from Garret here.

 
When We Were Happy

When We Were Happy, Rob Giles
One of the most beautiful and emotionally crippling things about language is how some short phrases can have such huge connotations hidden in their phrasing. My favorite example of this idea comes from Sam Beam’s lyrics to his song “The Trapeze Swinger,” when he says “someone told me you’re still pretty” in the second verse. I’m always amazed at how clearly this short phrase so concisely presents such a complicated situation- the verb tense alone carries more emotional weight than most entire songs. Somehow those six words tell an entire story, without any need for detail or explanation. It might just be the best-written sentence I’ve even encountered. The title/refrain of this song by Rob Giles of The Rescues might come close though. With two less words, the phrase “When We Were Happy” rivals the connotative pregnancy of that Iron and Wine quote, immediately explaining the entire song before you even hear it. That phrase, which is also the title of Rob’s new solo album, quite literally says it all. As one could easily extrapolate from the title, the track centers on a painful romantic breakup, delving into the immensely complicated emotions that fill the void when happiness fades away in a relationship. Giles has fantastically expressive vocal style, and the simple guitar and bass parts have a painful throbbing to them that reflects the sentiment of the lyrics. The recurring string theme adds just enough beauty and tragic elegance to the situation, sonically capturing the feelings that Rob must have been struggling with when he wrote this song. Lyrics like these can only come from fresh painful experience, and the clarity in the title of this song alone is the mark of a great writer.

I want you, but I want you to be happy, the way we were happy, when were happy

 
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All Through The Night, Tyler Ramsey
In September I wrote about this song for Cover Me (you can check out the post here), and ever since then it has haunted me- never getting boring no matter how often I listen to it. There’s something  astonishing about how Tyler’s guitar picking follows the core melody while simultaneously picking the bass line and adding pretty little flourishes, especially since this attached version was recorded live. His voice has a roughness to it that gives the performance a tear-jerking sense of emotional sincerity,  making the romantic situation believable and real-sounding. The tempo and nocturnal imagery in the lyrics fit Tyler’s understated style perfectly, capturing the essence of the tune far better than Cyndi Lauper did on her more famous cover of this track. For all of its other merits, though, this song just has a gorgeous chorus. The melodic building and lyrical desperation captivate both the listener and performer, gripping our attention and provoking beautifully-strained wails from Ramsey. Also, even though the performance overshadows them for the most part, the lyrics of this track have a serene elegence to them that I really like.

We have no past, we won’t reach back, stay with me forward on through the night

 

Flipping through my overflowing Google Reader feed the other day I came across this Ann Powers article chronicling the past and future of American Idol, a show I very much adored in my younger years for vocalists like Ruban Studdard and Jennifer Hudson. I inexplicably followed a link in the article to Carrie Underwood’s original audition video, in which she performed a startling acapella version of the timeless classic “I Can’ Make You Love Me,” and as impressed as I was by her performance, I realized that I hadn’t heard this fantastic song in far too long. I set out to remedy that with a quick Hype Machine search, and I didn’t just find Bonnie Raitt’s original, but also recent covers by the two most talked-about vocalists of 2011, Adele and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. After listening to each of these versions many times I’ve come to realize that each performer brings out something different from the song, but the composition still transcends the presentation regardless of the context.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Bonnie Raitt
In many ways, Raitt’s original captures all of the intense emotion that makes this song the seminal work It has become. Her hybrid country-soft pop vocals capture the essential introspection and reflection in the lyrics, which, in their most basic form, outline the internal realization of a failed romance. While Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin’s lyrics directly address the romantic other, they’re the type of appeals that we only wish we could actually vocalize, but keep to ourselves instead. It isn’t an argument or even a conversation, but a solitary moment of conclusion and deep thought. Raitt’s vocals capture this perfectly, keeping her emotions just restrained enough to demonstrate the pain but keeping it believable as an internal monologue. Bruce Hornsby’s piano fills fit the situation perfectly as well, adding both emotional drama and impressive technical displays without calling too much attention to his playing. Each of these covers include piano parts, but none even attempt to live up to Hornsby’s level of precision and emotion.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Adele
In many ways, Adele’s version of the song aims to mimic the original. Inevitably though, her version dials up the emotion and spotlights the vocal performance by simplifying the accompaniment, in this case a single piano mostly playing chords and small melodic bits. This simplification actually changes the song drastically, quieting it down and letting the lyrics and vocals carry more of the emotional weight. It may be redundant criticism to say so, but Adele’s vocal performance is almost unthinkably powerful and beautiful. Especially on a song built for a strong vocalist like this one, I could listen to her sing all day long. Her adaptation of the song also fits the live environment perfectly, putting as little as possible between the vocalist and the audience to deliver the sentiment of the lyrics in their purest form.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Bon Iver
While Adele’s cover sticks to the general formula of the original (minus some simplifications), the Bon Iver version makes subtle changes to re-contextualize and re-interpret it a little bit more. While Raitt’s original seems to take place as an internal monologue and Adele’s pretty clearly drops the dramatic pretense and exists as a live concert recording performed in front of an audience, Bon Iver’s super-simplification of the piano part gives it the feeling of the subject sitting alone at the piano, singing his own feelings to himself. Its the most intimate of the three by far, relying on sincerity and feeling rather than vocal acrobatics to convey the emotion. Vernon’s high notes sound shrill and strained, just as the crushed lover’s should. The piano melody pops up at points, but in general the focus shifts completely away from technically-advanced presentation and more towards honest, simple portrayal of the feelings that surround the situation described. Its almost more like acting than singing, and Vernon might be the best actor in music today.

 
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We Take Care of Our Own, Bruce Springsteen
I can only start this review by admitting my lifelong love of Bruce Springsteen’s music. I personally believe that he’s the strongest lyrically-focused songwriter of Rock’s first three decades (’50s, ’60s and ’70s), and that Josh Ritter is probably the only writer who has been able to match up to him since his emergence in 1973. Obviously these bold claims rely heavily on my personal affection for imagery and narrative, but I’d be willing to argue that mastery of those styles truly sets the great lyricists apart from the rest.

Over the course of his career I’ve noticed that Springsteen writes his best songs when he focuses intently on a specific subject, whether it’s the state of America in the wake of 9/11 (The Rising), his complicated relationship with the shoreline towns of Jersey (his first 3 albums) or the collapse of his first marriage (Tunnel of Love). Unfortunately not all of his albums have had such specific and passionate motivating subjects, leaving us with duds like Human Touch/Lucky Town and most of the tracks on Born in the USA. After this aimlessness spoiled his last two releases, the uninspired Magic and the half-baked Working on a Dream, I can’t help but feel apprehensive about the newly-announced Wrecking Ball, and having listened to the patricarchally-titled single We Take Care of Our Own, I can’t say this apprehension has eased any.

Musically, this new track feels like a return to Rising-era ambition, with its prevalent violin riff, layered background vocals and heavily-present drums. I’m happy about the departure from the guitar-laden sound that producer Brendan O’Brien seemed to favor on the last two albums. I’ve heard whisperings of new textures to come on this new album, which I can see bringing welcome freshness and challenges to Bruce’s style, but this track stays solidly within his established comfort zone. The composition and form of “We Take Care of Our Own” are similarly reminiscent of his Rising songs, especially with the repeated lines in the refrain and towards the end of the track. Its rallying-cry nature should make for some fantastic live performances on tour this spring, so look forward to that.

As much as I like the sentiment of the lyrics, I think the writing feels awkward and clunky in a lot of places. Especially when accompanied by the written lyrics as in the official YouTube release, the phrasing lacks intuitive flow in several lines. There are annoying little jagged edges all over the place, like the extra syllable in “the road to good intentions has gone dry as a bone” or the forced rhyming between words like “home” and “blowin’” in the second verse. It comes off as unpolished and somewhat careless, which I hate to see from a writer who spent over six months re-writing and perfecting the words to Born to Run‘s title track alone.

I’m not giving up on this album yet, especially considering the promises of new stylistic textures and the inclusion of formidable tracks like the anthemic live-staple “Land of Hope and Dreams,” but I admit to being a little bit worried. I’m both confident and glad that the rest of the album won’t sound like this track, because even though it’s on the right track, this song definitely falls short of Bruce’s creative potential.

 

Without further ado (whatever ado is)…

1. Adele / Someone Like You
I first heard this song over the summer on NPR’s All Songs Considered podcast, and then rewound and re-listened to it probably six or seven times to catch all the lyrics and fully experience the song. Most obviously, the vocal performance here is absolutely phenomenal. Pretty much unparallelled in pop today. The piano riff stays out of the way for the most part, but it keeps the pace of the song from dragging and the bass notes pop to add poignancy. With disrespect to the performance, however, the true heart of this song is the lyrics. When I first heard the song I was taken aback by how accurately the song described a romantic situation I was in at the time, and it took me until probably twenty minutes after I stopped listening to it to realize that my life was actually nothing like the song. She presents the whole scene so realistically and vividly that, in that moment, I related exactly to it, despite that fact that I really couldn’t relate. Especially given its fundemental sadness, I think this speaks volumes about Adele’s gift as a songwriter as well as a singer. This choice was an obvious one for me, I think this song just has so much to offer on so many levels.

2. The Honest Truth / Typhoon
2011 was the year I discivered Typhoon, and I’m so glad I did. A standout on their March EP, this song has quickly become this band’s signature tune, showing of their best qualities as performers and the strength of Kyle Morton’s writing. The iconic rhythm sets the tone for the melodies that follow, and the whole composition swells to the point of bursting when the chorus-style vocals come in. Its a grand statement from this under-appreciated band, and I have a feeling that their next full-length is going to bring these guys some much-deserved attention.

3. Mama's Boy / Kanye West
Kanye wasn’t pumped when this track leaked over the summer, calling it unfinished and unauthorized. While it may not have gotten the official stamp of approval from Yeezy, the timeless soul-sampling beat, raw introspective lyrics and theatrical, confident performance make this track my single favorite hip-hop record of the year. West perfectly balances childish humor and honest, bitter emotion with threats like “I wanna run over you with my bike” and the priceless little-kid whine about not going to bed. Warning: It uses racial slurs heavily, but rap listeners should be used to that by now. Ye may not love it, but I do.

4. Beans / Chilly Gonzales
This track from the the nefarious Chilly Gonzales’ new album is undeniably goofy, but it also includes so much of what I look for in a song. Music should be fun, and this hip-hop parody hits all the right comedic notes with its ridiculous bean puns (“bean-aholic, call me Chilly Garbonzo”) and its relentless lampooning of the portayal of wealth in rap lyrics. Below the hilarity, however, is a legitimately pretty orchestral instrumental, with provocative twists and exciting builds. I plant seeds and then they blossom…

5. Lighthouse / NewVillager
I’ve written about this track before, and as much as I’ve continued to listen it, it still sounds fresh and exciting to me. The blending of indie-rock styles gives it universal appeal for me regardless of the context or my mood by incorporating dancy electro-pop, sunny acoustic guitar strumming and vocals that shift from Freddy Mercury drama to enthusastic gospel to, believe it or not, a rap verse. Its eclectic but still cohesive, which attracts me back over and over and keeps me from ever getting bored of this track.

6. Doorstep / tUnEyArDs
Merill Garbus, the formidable voice behind tUnEyArDs, really introduced the world to her crazy african-inspired melodic pop this year, and it left an impression on me as it did many others I think. This was the first song I ever heard of hers, highlighting her unique voice and innovative instrumental approach, which features the ukulele and relies heavily on looping. Her crystal clear voice is perfect for this super-melodic style, and her joyful spirit is absolutely infectious. I wanna see tUnEyArDs live really badly.

7. Perth / Bon Iver
This album made #1 on some 2011 year-end lists, and even though it didn’t make mine I do love Bon Iver, and I think this song stands out on an otherwise interesting but kindof forgettable album. Justin Vernon has a fantastic ear for melody and the technical skills to put the sounds from his head on record without too much interference. His billion side projects have definitely changed him as a musician since the first Bon Iver album (which I absolutely love), and as creative as he is here, I wish he’d return to more of a focus on conventional song forms. That being said, I think the melody of “Perth” just sounds so natural and intuitive, and the layered production is absolutely gorgeous.

8. Freaks and Geeks / Childish Gambino
Another polarizing figure of this year, Donald Childish Gambino Glover first attracted my attention with this cut, and I still think its his best. Lyrically, he’s absolutely obsessed with hip-hop conventions, especially mysogeny, gross-out humor and over-the-top bravado. Under this veneer though, Gambino has some real, honest emotion in many of his songs. I think Freaks and Geeks really sums up his lyrical approach and shows off his undeniably impressive flow. I think he’s a really interesting figure in rap and the indie world as a whole.

9. Valentine / Dispatch
Until this summer I had fully accepted that Dispatch, one of my first favorite bands, was over and finished releasing new material. To be honest, after this summer’s new self-titled EP it still doesn;t really feel like they’re back, but this one song ranks amongst their best acoustic offerings, and that’s saying something. The acoustic riff has an appealing, relaxed quality, and Pete Heimbold offers one of his best vocal performances to date, capturing the laid-back, beachy feeling of the song. It’s a great summer song, even though it might be winter right now.

10. Vagabond / Beirut
I’ve always loved Beirut, mostly for Zach Condon’s voice and their fascinating instrumental tendancies. The new album is full of great songs, but this one stands out as my favorite. The piano intro/riff and drum parts have a poppy approachability to them, the horns give it just enough of their trademark French style, and Condon’s singing is just dramatic enough. I’m also obsessed with the Calliope-esque break and the transition out of it. Its exciting and different, but it still appeals to things I love about rock music.

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