Artist: Bill Callahan
Album: Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle
Year: 2009
Grade: 3.5 pretzels
Full disclosure time: I know almost nothing about Bill Callahan. Thanks to the modern marvel that is Wikipedia, I’m told that he used to record under the name Smog and is somewhat celebrated as a lo-fi singer-songwriter. Good for him. So, what am I doing reviewing an album by an artist I’ve never listened to? Well, everyone’s favorite music pundits over at Pitchfork deemed it worthy of Best New Music honors and as I’ve mentioned in the past, I feel compelled to at least weigh in with my own thoughts whenever an album gets that kind of attention. So, here we go.
The first thing that jumped out at me on Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle (besides the pronoun-bending title) was Callahan’s voice. Occupying a low baritone range rarely heard in singer-songwritery music these days, it’s certainly distinctive. It’s a voice reminiscent of the other high-profile indie baritone, the National’s Matt Berninger, but also considerably more warbling and occasionally out of key. Callahan doesn’t have a traditionally “good” voice, so he compensates by singing in an expressive and unique style.
Musically, the album is a fairly routine collection of acoustic-based tales of songwritery confession, colored with just enough misery and violins to keep things interesting. Callahan clearly has a flair for wordy abstraction, leading to SAT-worthy song titles like “Rococo Zephyr”, which is a phrase that is probably meaningless, but sounds pretty artsy when recited in a deep voice over a string section. The album also features “Eid Ma Clack Shaw”, featuring a chorus of nonsense words, sung by Callahan in an almost-painfully clear and deliberate way. This certainly isn’t the most accessible album I’ve encountered.
However, there are plenty of highlights on the album, from start to finish. The haunting “The Wind And The Dove” evokes the same type of eerie, dramatic sadness as Nick Cave (“Ain’t Gonna Rain Anymore” particularly). On the slightly more upbeat side of the spectrum, “My Friend” features some exquisite acoustic guitar picking, leading into the driving chorus, with Callahan’s rough voice coughing out the title phrase. The overall effect isn’t all that…well, friendly…but it’s an impressive song nonetheless. The moments that felt the strongest to me were the ones where Callahan toned down the artistic pretention, allowing the music to speak for itself without being overwhelmed by a torrent of vocabulary.
I’m not sure Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle is enough to get me to check out Callahan’s entire back catalogue. It feels too similar to the indie singer-songwriter work of folks like Elliott Smith or John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats, artists I respect but have never been my favorites. However, the album is definitely worthy of note. Callahan’s dark acoustic style can be very compelling at times and the playing on the album is definitely top notch. For fans of Callahan’s work, I’m sure this is just what they wanted.
The first thing that jumped out at me on Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle (besides the pronoun-bending title) was Callahan’s voice. Occupying a low baritone range rarely heard in singer-songwritery music these days, it’s certainly distinctive. It’s a voice reminiscent of the other high-profile indie baritone, the National’s Matt Berninger, but also considerably more warbling and occasionally out of key. Callahan doesn’t have a traditionally “good” voice, so he compensates by singing in an expressive and unique style.
Musically, the album is a fairly routine collection of acoustic-based tales of songwritery confession, colored with just enough misery and violins to keep things interesting. Callahan clearly has a flair for wordy abstraction, leading to SAT-worthy song titles like “Rococo Zephyr”, which is a phrase that is probably meaningless, but sounds pretty artsy when recited in a deep voice over a string section. The album also features “Eid Ma Clack Shaw”, featuring a chorus of nonsense words, sung by Callahan in an almost-painfully clear and deliberate way. This certainly isn’t the most accessible album I’ve encountered.
However, there are plenty of highlights on the album, from start to finish. The haunting “The Wind And The Dove” evokes the same type of eerie, dramatic sadness as Nick Cave (“Ain’t Gonna Rain Anymore” particularly). On the slightly more upbeat side of the spectrum, “My Friend” features some exquisite acoustic guitar picking, leading into the driving chorus, with Callahan’s rough voice coughing out the title phrase. The overall effect isn’t all that…well, friendly…but it’s an impressive song nonetheless. The moments that felt the strongest to me were the ones where Callahan toned down the artistic pretention, allowing the music to speak for itself without being overwhelmed by a torrent of vocabulary.
I’m not sure Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle is enough to get me to check out Callahan’s entire back catalogue. It feels too similar to the indie singer-songwriter work of folks like Elliott Smith or John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats, artists I respect but have never been my favorites. However, the album is definitely worthy of note. Callahan’s dark acoustic style can be very compelling at times and the playing on the album is definitely top notch. For fans of Callahan’s work, I’m sure this is just what they wanted.
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