a record on repeat

I have several former college classmates that would be sorely disappointed to learn to that I have become an "indie kid," or at least as much of a kid as a 28 year-old can be. My passion for grime, drum and bass, underground rap and new hip hop has dwindled. I am not ashamed of this, however. I'm of the opinion that the music I listen to is better than yours. I'm still a hip-hopper at heart. It's what I grew up with and I go through phases of old school obsession (in fact, I'm just coming out of one). But I connect deeper, emotionally with other genres and it just so happens that many of them are independent acts.

I'm fairly certain that the dudes from my recording class would wonder what was so special about the album I've been listening to lately, J. Tillman's Year in the Kingdom. First, I would have to explain to them that in another life (called high school) I actually knew Josh Tillman. That's the main reason I've had my eye on his work. But even if I had not known him then, I'm sure I still would still be paying attention. He is, after all, the drummer for one of the most successful indie acts of the past two years, Fleet Foxes. So, since I'm now an indie kid, I would be obligated to check out any work from the band members, regardless.

Then, I would have to tell my old school mates that it's true, there really isn't anything particularly unique about the methods used to record or perform on this album. It's folk music. It's sparse, quiet and straight forward. There are no tricks here. There are some interesting sounds on tracks like "Crosswinds," which incorporates cymbal scratching to create atmosphere, but it's subtle. For Tillman, however, merely the presence of cymbals on a record is something somewhat new. Until he previous release, Vacilando Territory Blues, most of his music was made with his voice and his guitar. His voice is powerful, though. He was right to use it as his main instrument. It's no wonder he's a good fit for the Foxes and their dreamy harmonies. The instrumentation he uses for Year in the Kingdom may be a bit broader in range, but it still acts as a platter to serve his golden pipes.

I suppose what I like the most about this album is what I remember about Josh Tillman from high school and what comes through for me in his songs. There is a weighted sadness throughout all nine tracks. Yet there are also rays of light and promise, acknowledgements to relationships both past and pending. When he came to Philly last month R5 Productions advertised his sound as "sad bastard" music. I think that's a bit unfair. For me, there is both sadness and healing here. There is darkness and beauty. I have to be careful when I listen to his stuff. If it catches me on the wrong day, it plunges me into despair. Most of the time, though, songs like the title track offer me a contentedness that's rather sweet. That's something that Dizzee Rascal, Madlib and MF Doom do not provide.