VZ Magazine

It’s getting more and more obvious to me that years, musically, are like the Star Trek movies: the odd numbered ones are the best. (I’m actually not a Star Trek fan at all; that’s just the best comparison I could come up with). For me, 2008 was a major year for music. M83, TV on the Radio, Portishead, and Vampire Weekend were the bands that helped me discover my love for new music after I’d spent two years obsessed with the British Invasion that had occurred thirty years before I was even born. So, to my disappointment, 2009 was a much lamer year. Everybody was clamoring for Animal Collective, Grizzly Bear, The xx, and Dirty Projectors. I didn’t like any of that, so I felt very alienated that year (although it did produce some music that I absolutely loved). Then, 2010 came along. Suddenly, I was into it again. I didn’t like My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy or Sir Lucious Left Foot at all, but between Robyn, Avi Buffalo, The Roots, and Love Is All, it was possibly the best year for music since I’ve been alive.

This incredible year was followed by (what else?) 2011. Once again, I just couldn’t get into it. I began working on my “1,001 greatest albums” project and, as the year went by, I began to wonder if any albums from that year were going to make it (some did). But before I knew it, the year was done and, within the first month of 2012, I was greeted by First Aid Kit’s The Lion’s Roar and the best album Leonard Cohen has put out since I’m Your Man. This is already looking like a great year in the making and, just to prove it, the year has forced me to make a fool out of myself.

In my review of The Lion’s Roar, I wondered how long it would take before an album would be able to top that on my best-of-the-year list. Two weeks. It took two weeks for an album to top it. Apparently, 2012 thought I was denying its awesome power, and decided to show me up. ‘I’ll show you,’ 2012 said. ‘Here’s Dr. Dog!’

Here is Dr. Dog with their seventh album, Be the Void. To be honest, I’d heard of Dr. Dog in the past, but I never really listened to them. I do this often, and I always end up wanting to hit myself in the head when it happens. In this band’s case, however, I may have done myself a favor by waiting until now to listen to them. While their older work is good, Be the Void is excellent. The first track, “Lonesome,” is as perfect as folky indie gets, and the album just gets better and better as it goes on. “How Long Must I Wait” is my favorite, a build-up song that pays in full with an incredible ending chant of the title phrase. Then, there’s “Vampire,” “Big Girl,” “Warrior Man.” Honestly, I love almost every song here, and I still enjoy the hell out of those that I don’t.

If there’s one band I would compare Dr. Dog to, it would be Foxy Shazam. They also released an album earlier this year, which I rather liked. Both bands share the same concept, paying tribute to old rock and roll without ignoring the fact that they are 21^st century bands. However, I prefer Dr. Dog’s version of this sound, because they don’t seem as nostalgic. Foxy Shazam relies on their influences; every song seems to be saying, “Remember this? Weren’t those good times?” Dr. Dog hardly even seem to be aware of how ‘60s-reminiscent their music is; they just play their music and, if it sounds like a certain band or influenced by a certain era, so be it. As long as it sounds alright.

I learned three things from this album:

1. Always listen to any band that has the slightest chance of being good.

2. Eric Slick is one of the best indie drummers today, on par with Chris Tomson and Brian Chase.

3. Never challenge a year's greatness, because it will make you look like an idiot.

At 77 years old Leonard Cohen is a masterful elder. He’s been making music for 44 years and has released 12 studio albums. He spent five years isolated at a Buddhist retreat in the mid-90s and filed for bankruptcy in 2005 when a former manager screwed him out of all of his money. Not only is ‘Hallelujah’ one of the most covered songs of all time but he’s still touring and touching audiences around the world.

His new album Old Ideas sounds like a man at his Zen. It is dark and quiet, ominous but beautiful. It doesn’t sound like he trying to change the world but to express his experiences from the standpoint of an elder. He holds onto a closet beauty, a natural intelligence after being on the planet for 77 years and being an artist for most of that time.

When approaching Leonard Cohen, especially Old Ideas, you have to remember that he is a poet before he is a musician. While he triumphs through different styles and can make beautiful melodies, his lyrics come before anything else. On Old Ideas he uses different instruments on every song but every song has the same tone, sound, and mood. He goes through the banjo, the organ, a sliding guitar, the harmonica, a picking acoustic, and the viola but his passive, deep voice is the most prominent sound. Deepening the mood is a female choir who often back Cohen. They sound like angels perched above his shoulders bringing a grace from God.

Listening to Leonard Cohen’s new album is kind of like going to church. It is a dark musing on life’s oldest questions. Death, heartache, loneliness, and afterlife are all pondered through Cohen’s entire career, but on Old Ideas he sounds confident, at peace. On ‘Darkness’ he sings “I’ve got no future/I know my days are few/I thought the past would last me/but the darkness got that too” but he doesn’t sound anxious or ill at ease. He sounds like he is waiting for his time to move on. He doesn’t know when it is but he will be ready when it comes.

But while he is still here he might as well be making beautiful music. On ‘Anyhow’ you can imagine Cohen sitting in a lounge reflecting on a long lost lover. With a slow piano and soft shakers he moans, “I know it really is a pity/the way you treat me now/I know you can’t forgive me/But forgive me anyhow”.

When I was first introduced to Cohen someone described him as Canadian’s Bob Dylan. While the two have similar lengths in their careers, the dispatch of their personalities couldn’t be more different. Dylan is crazier, always eager to change his style and with that his persona. Cohen is calm, instead of deliberately changing his style he deepens it and with that his personality. They are similar because they often ponder life’s deepest questions. While Dylan shows a variety of experiences, Cohen shows a humble wiseness.

When Rolling Stone asked Cohen about the name Old Ideas Cohen explains, “It was the old ideas, old – you might even say unresolved – ideas that are wracking around in my brain.” Old Ideas is a meditation from an old soul who still doesn’t know the answers but has all of the questions.