CD Odyssey Disc 905: Courtney Barnett

I am home from a road trip to see my mom. It was a pretty good trip, and since I’d recently sold my car I splurged a little and rented a Mustang convertible. I’m more of a Camaro man, but those weren’t available.

The Mustang wasn’t the greatest car but it was still a fun drive. As soon as you don’t own your own car any opportunity to get behind the wheel becomes more enjoyable.

As is tradition, Sheila and I each picked four albums for our trip. Her (very excellent) choices were:

• Frank Turner “Tape Deck Heart”
• Hayes Carll “Lovers and Leavers”
• Lily Allen “It’s Not Me, It’s You”
• The Decemberists “The King is Dead”

My choices were:

• Frank Turner “Positive Songs for Negative People”
• Dick Dale “Checkered Flag”
• Tom Petty “Highway Companion”

My fourth choice was this next album, which I think it going to become a perennial road trip favourite.

Disc 905 is….Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit

Artist: Courtney Barnett

Year of Release: 2015

What’s up with the Cover? A chair on a tile floor. Even though this cover looks amateurish it has a charm that’s hard to ignore.

How I Came To Know It: I don’t remember. This is surprising since I’ve only had this album for a few months.

How It Stacks Up:  I have two Courtney Barnett albums, although the other one is really two EPs released as a single CD. Regardless, “Sometimes I Sit and Think…” is the best of the two.

Ratings: 5 stars

If you crossed Beck’s rambling, sneaky-clever use of language with Liz Phair’s deadpan rock and roll style, you’d have something approaching Courtney Barnett.

Even comparing her to those two greats in the alternative rock world sells her short, though. “Sometimes I Sit and Think…” is a revelation. Barnett has reinvigorated everything good about mid-nineties rock, put her own twist on it and created a record that makes you think, makes you feel and makes you want to rock out all at once.

The record starts with the punk inspired “Elevator Operator,” a song with jump and energy and introduces you to Barnett’s slightly (but deliberately) flat singing style as she paints an affectionate picture of local loser Oliver Paul, twenty years old.

“Elevator Operator” also introduces you to Barnett’s grimy and beautiful guitar style, which hat manages to sound mangled and loose while always staying perfectly in the pocket. It has a deliberately fuzzed-out feel that can easily make a song sound muddy, but Barnett knows how to keep things hitting sharp and hard in just the right proportion to serve the song.

“Pedestrian at Best” is the album’s first hit (I expect more, if there is any justice in the world) and picks up where “Elevator Operator” leaves off, only with more fuzz and more glorious rock riffs. For all her easy access to rock goddess powers, Barnett has an endearing self-effacing quality. On “Pedestrian at Best” she notes “put me on a pedestal/and I’ll only disappoint you” – as though she is anticipating her coming fame and awkwardly trying to get all us fanboys to just chill out and enjoy the music. Like Beck, she’s a loser baby, but only in the way we all sometimes feel deep down if we’re being honest.

There are no bad songs on this record. Even the long rambling numbers like “Small Poppies” and “Kim’s Caravan” (both atmospheric and almost seven minutes long each) give your ears a break from all the awesome crunch of guitar; a chill out in a quiet back room so you can rejoin the party with renewed energy.

Speaking of parties, another favourite is “Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go to the Party” which perfectly captures that experience that comes over you around 8 or 9 p.m. on Friday when you’re not sure you want to be social. It is expressed simply as “I wanna go out/but I wanna stay home.” We’ve all been there. Sometimes you just want to chill out in front of the TV or with a good book. I usually end up going to the party anyway, but such is the life of the extrovert.

“Sometimes I Sit and Think…” knows how to demonstrate range in other ways as well. On the stripped down “Depreston” Barnett eschews the fuzz and lets the meandering melody speak for itself. It is the perfect approach for a song about a sad little town where real estate is cheaper for a good reason; no one wants to live there.

Barnett has a great ability to take mundane experiences and make them into thoughtful observations on life, the universe and everything, like this little section from “Dead Fox”:

“Jen insists we buy organic vegetables

And I must admit that I was a little skeptical at first

A little pesticide can’t hurt.

Never having too much money

I get the cheap stuff at the supermarket

But they are all pumped up with shit

A friend told me they stick

Nicotine in the apples.”

Not only does Barnett deliver these lines with the effortless perfection of a rap star, she matches it with just the right guitar-god groove.

“Sometimes I Sit and Think…” has only 11 tracks and is a tasteful 44 minutes long. Every song stands out individually, and Barnett explores a lot of different musical notions but the record never loses its cohesion. In an era of single-song downloads, it is refreshing to hear a record where the songs just belong with each other, without any filler.

I’ve found a lot of new music in recent years, but few albums have inspired me the way this one does. This is the rebirth of rock and roll and we should all be paying attention to the second coming with delight and even a little awe. Or maybe some aww…shucks. Courtney would probably prefer the latter, but something tells me she’s going to have to get used to adoration.

Best tracks:  All tracks