Kentucky, approximated.

A year ago (and isn’t it funny that we don’t think of anything else this time of year but what happened a year ago?) I never would have assumed that I would go to Kentucky several times in 2006. But down through Indiana we drove, and I saw horses and drank bourbon and moonshine. This is mostly on account of the Damnwells song, which I like a lot, but I have noticed a strange amount of Kentucky in music I like by people who are not from Kentucky. That was a bad sentence, but I think you get the gist.

Neko Case, “Bowling Green”
Neko Case’ fantastic in this, an indiscreet song about pretty girls and lucky men in Bowling Green. It’s a rollicking direct hit, but charming and wry (as all good Case belters are). The times when I love Neko Case the most is when she writes these kinds of songs that are only vague characterizations but are inflamed (in the best possible sense) by Case’s voice, which (again) is utterly enrapturing.

Ryan Adams, “Oh My Sweet Carolina”
“I miss Kentucky/ and I miss my family,” sings Ryan Adams on this, which is arguably one of the best songs on Heartbreaker, a record composed entirely of great songs. Emmylou Harris sings back-up vocals, which are entrancing and sharp all at once. This song makes me catch my breath every time I hear it, and it makes me appreciate all the things that I love about Ryan Adams—his good voice, his good lyrics, his accurate sparseness and deft character development, and his beautiful evocation of something that is just far enough away to be interesting and just close enough to be intimate. “I was trying to find me something, but I wasn’t sure just what/ and I ended up with pockets full of dust.”

The Damnwells, “Louisville”
Louisville means little to me but pictures of nice-ish office buildings and a congested bridge. I saw the Damnwells open for Rhett Miller a few years ago, and they didn’t have any songs like this in their set—everything was exuberant and a little dumb, if I recall. This song is the opposite—it’s thoughtful and careful. It’s a love song, but of the wrong sort—“I don’t want love to conquer Rome, just your voice and a sleeping pill. I’m gonna trade in Friday nights for a piece of your heart”. This is a sentiment that I might not empathize with, but there’s lilting recognition here, that there’s a nonsense to what we desire but also a logic that’s quite beautiful. Cities and girls are interchangeable in pop songs (cities and boys too, though not in this instance), but I’m appreciative of any song that acknowledges why exactly that is. And even though I speed through cities and stall on bridges, other people might cry crossing that river.

Tom Waits, “Jockey Full of Bourbon”
Oh goodness is this self-explanatory. Tom Waits at his ultimate strength—articulate but bizarre story, whiskey voice, and a whole lot of hole where there might be heart or vice versa (and you can never tell).