Loudon Wainwright III, Last Man on Earth (2001)

I know you've all missed my self-indulgent rants... I haven't been blogging much, mainly cos I've been way too busy discovering a new favourite country and adventuring and being in the sun. (And then, in fairness, working.) I'd also admittedly fallen into a bit of a Bright Eyes trap and never wanted to listen to anything else ever again. Ever. But yesterday I did, cos after nearly 8 weeks on the road, I'm finally a teensy bit homesick, and I needed something gentle for a Sunday morning. I'm also in the political heart of America and I fancied some American folk. And Loudon was exactly what I needed.

The Wainwrights do 'close-knit' pretty damn well. Loudon sings about his parents and about Martha and Rufus, Rufus sings about Martha, they both sing about their mother, and, on this album at least, Loudon sings about... another woman. It's all very... intimate.

I can see what Martha meant when she said her parents were very literal songwriters. Loudon Wainwraight III is one of those classic Americana folk artists who writes beautiful songs about everyday occurences and people. His sixteenth studio album, released at age 55, this album is clearly a heavily reflective album, and focuses intensely on his family. I like his literal style. He has a great ability to make the quotidienne sound interesting - my pick is "Out of Reach". He actually also makes the macabre sound frivolous (witness the excellent "Bed" and "Donations")

But mostly it's just about his voice. I unashamedly love classic folk, and that's what all these beautiful Wainwrights do best. Early in the album he sounds very Dylan-esque (witness "Living Alone"), but I hate making that comparison because Wainwright is just so clever in his own right. It's an album mostly unadorned with fussy accompaniment - a guitar here, a banjo there, and the occasional fiddle. It's a great album by a great artist who at is stage deserves the success of a simple, if slightly indulgent, album. And if I want to indulge on a Sunday morning, then I'll always happily do so with a Wainwright.

Bright Eyes, LIVE at The Chance Theatre, Poughkeepsie, NY, 1 Sept 2011

A week ago I had never heard of Poughkeepsie, New York, and certainly didn't ever intend to visit it. Three days ago I still couldn't pronounce it, but found myself in possession of a ticket to the place. And last night I rocked Poughkeepsie senseless with a bunch of underage hipsters.

I was meant to see Bright Eyes in Brooklyn earlier this week. Hurricane Irene thought otherwise and duly cancelled my flights but, never one to be deterred, I spent an inordinate amount of money and 2 full days on a bus, 3 flights and 2 trains travelling across 2 continents so I could see them in upstate New York instead. And that, friends, is how I came to be in Poughkeepsie.

It was worth it. Bright Eyes opened with one of my very favourite tracks, the kind of appropriate "Another Travelin' Song". It's like they'd read my mind. Or at least their facebook page. It's a fantastic, cheery song, and it marked the first time (of many) that I thought to myself that this is just how music should sound.

(I feel compelled to note that none of the screaming girls in this video is me.)

In fact the first half hour or so of their long - more than 2 hour - set read something like a 'My Favourites' list; plenty of wonderful, folksy numbers including "Old Soul Song", "Four Winds", "We Are Nowhere and It's Now"; excellent tracks from the early albums, making me all smiley on the inside.

A couple of particular highlights included Conor doing a gentle acoustic version of "Landlocked Blues" - just a slightly warbly guy and his guitar, delicately supported by a backing trumpet and rhythm guitar. On a night of exuberance and playfulness, this quiet rendition really was a Bit Of A Moment. Similarly near the end of the show he sat down, just him, behind a piano and sang a song I'd never heard before but nonetheless fell in love with at first lilting listen.

Perhaps it is sacrilegious to say in a glowing recollection of a magical show, but I tend to think the most recent Bright Eyes album, The People's Key, is a bit of a mixed bag. But last night they played some of the better numbers from the album including the superb "Shell Games" - better live than recorded - a delightful exposition of Conor's genuine charisma and energy. To be honest I never wanted to buy into the Conor Cliche - as I've written previously, I know he's great but I certainly don't think he's the new Dylan as many claim - but he does have a certain je ne sais quois that's intriguing and a little mesmerising. As of last night, it seems I've fallen into the Conor Oberst trap.

Which is not, I should point out, to diminish the skill of the rest of the band: Multi-instrumentalist (and producer) Michael Mogis is a dream to watch, and patiently, skillfully, lovingly compliments Conor's antics. Add to that two exceptional dummers (both on full kits...), at any given point at least 6 sets of keys, a trumpet, bass, lap steel, accordian... You name it. But at only one stage did all these instruments get remotely caucophonous, during the encore of "Road to Joy", complete with opening act Dr Dog. And if any song was meant to be caucophonous, this was it. Uplifting. To plagiarise Conor's words - "like springing sunshine into you."

I would have loved to've seen Bright Eyes on the Brooklyn waterfront with Manhattan as a backdrop. But seeing them in the tiny Chance Theatre in tiny Poughkeepsie was doubtless a much better experience. The intimate venue - which wasn't even full - was smaller, even, than venues where I saw local bands at University. And as a consequence, Bright Eyes were right up in all of our faces, all night. Conor's crowd banter was spot on, ranging from a pensive moment about the importance of brothers, to a long, hilarious stream-of-consciousness about virginity loss. And as the night wore on and Conor got more rowdy, things got more fun, culminating in 2 stage dives. If Conor Oberst wasn't enjoying himself, then he's an excellent actor.

The new album showcases more use of Conor on keys, and seeing Bright Eyes live confirmed for me that, all comparisons aside, Conor Oberst is a spectacularly talented musician, songwriter, and frontman. He's versatile, dextrous and terribly, terribly clever. But for my tastes and in my opinion, Conor Oberst is and always will be best when he's behind a microphone and a guitar, singing the beautiful, upbeat, folksy tracks that he writes so well.

That's how I saw him for most of last night, and that, my friends, is just how music should sound.