John Denver - Golden: JAC's Best of John Denver

Long ago I overcame any problems I might have had with John Denver being somehow "uncool". My girlfriend at the time liked him so if he was good enough for her he was good enough for me. And I'm so glad I initially approached his music in that way. Truth be told anyone who thinks he's not (or wasn't) "hip" or whatever is really missing a lot. John Denver is one of the most under-rated singer songwriters of all time. He had luck with a couple of country hits and so many people pegged him as a country singer. As such perhaps he doesn't rank as a great country star. But most people who have taken him seriously hear him as more of a folk singer with bits of country and pop (adult contemporary) mixed in. I've put together this playlist that I believe proves what a substantial artist he was. I recommend that you listen to it in shuffle mode.

Prophet

He didn't live in darkness
It was the light he couldn't bear
Illuminating the futility
Exposing the reality
A world full of selfish people
A trait of the species
Darkness would have been his friend
To hide the truth he could not deny
Obfuscate lust, greed and pride
Survival of the fittest, hey that's alright
Instead he proclaimed humanity's state
Without the hope of even temporary escape
Grim as the Reaper knocking at your door

A car crash aftermath
You can't help but slow down
Turn to see what's there to see
But not for long
The guy in front of you slowed down too
(We've all the same hard wired brain)
Lest you find more than you thought
Not turn back in time
And rear end the other guy

He found ways to sing of loneliness
Despair given a melody
Between the look in his eyes and
The tremble in his voice
He could sell it to a poor man
He was no faker
As real as the sun
That will burn out the eyes of the one
Who gazes too long
At it's blazing light
From light years away
Giving decieving darkness
For the moments you bask in it's glow

The burden was too much for his skinny back
More than the weight of many worlds
He fell beneath his own weight
To him the logical response
But not to me
And not to you
Regardless the empathy and solidarity
How he seemed to have read our mind
Known our story, all our years to now
But he never knew the ending
How I wish it would have been his too
ESCAPE
From the blinding darkness and the piercing light
My third eye has been blind
Open it, Lord
Show me the reason
And I will sing your song

Suspicion

Creeps up to me like a serpent
Exaggerating, hissing white lies
Subtle black magic weaving
Uncertainty
Makes me read between the lines
For accusations from straight out of nowhere

I'll get over it soon enough
Cut the snake's head off
Find a way to make it right
With only my thoughts for company
If I can keep them in line
If I can stay sane
If I can overcome
Suspicion

This is the part of the film

In which the glass is filled with sand
Minutes into hours, as full as is allowed
Waiting for someone to come along
And turn it over again
Or break it with a hammer
Grains pouring out with shattered glass
The smashing blow of destiny

Impermanence
Life's greatest lesson
Is the most difficult to learn
Almost impossible to embrace
Until one realizes the value of freedom
That nothing lasts forever
Is good news indeed

- from Bipolar Confessional

Relapse & Restoration

You get hungry for the way it was
           Even though the way it was
Killed you slowly
                    slowly broke you down
             Killed the part of you
Kept apart from everyone else
           part of the past you won't let die
When the best you can do is help it die
                                         do it
  Drown the voices, I'd do it for you if I could
                                                            and I can
You only have to know the difference I can show you if you let me
You take all your selfishness and fascination with evil
You take all your anger and anxieties
You take all your fears and misconceptions
You take all your judgment and hypocrisy
                               you see it's all hypocrisy at the core
     That's keeping you away from doing something about it
                  We're all this way
           When we all recognize it we can move to the meat of the murder
                Stuff it all inside a golem, chant a few prayers
Even your dead god listens to that chant
          Small case god just isn't the One that can hold it under the water
            Not strong enough, not long enough to keep it under
                                                                It's got to be held under forever
                   Before it loosens the grip it's got on you
              But the right hand, the right chant, can you tell me what's next?
Struggles and bubbles, muffled screams, it was you but no more
                          Murdered that illness, left it on the ocean floor
     Only an illness, no demon or serpent crawling on the floor
  We're killing it with chemicals, ripping theses from the door
  We're tearing them up
  We're throwing them out
  We're never going to hunger again for the
                                                                            way
                                                                                    it
                                                                                       was

from Bipolar Confessional

Florida Georgia Line - Anything Goes

Have you heard of "Plan 9 From Outer Space"? It's the last movie Bela Lugosi ever made. He died during production but instead of shelving the project the director made the decision to use stock footage of the actor to flesh out scenes he was in. It is widely considered to be one of if not THE worst movie ever made. But there is a certain strange charm in watching things fall apart and "Plan 9" developed a huge cult following who were able to appreciate it for it's wretchedness...

Which brings us to Florida Georgia Line and, in particular, their most recent album "Anything Goes". Is it the worst "modern country" record ever made? That's a distinct possibility. It's filled with cliches and some songs are little more than laundry lists of hip hop cowboy stereotypes. Musically it's as sterile as a newly bought bottle of saline solution. These two guys are about as likable as...well, those two guys you used to know in high school who always hung around together stinking like stale tobacco and trying to hit on your girlfriend with lines from Playboy party jokes. Their voices are so processed that sometimes you have to do a double take just to make sure you're not listening to a machine. They've got hooks aplenty...TOO MANY DAMN HOOKS, they sort of lose their novelty all scrunched up together like they do 'em. They name check country stars and rock stars in the same breath, which seems to be a sort of rite of passage for the Luke Bryan school of country tough. Here they've managed to rhyme Haggard with Jagger and yes, you will walk away from that one like you've just had your eye spit in. To hear these guys tell it Randy Owens' legendary band Alabama are the best music in the world to listen to when you're high on marijuana. And there's a LOT of marijuana on this album, you have to wonder if they're giving it away for free down there on the border of Florida and Georgia.

All of which is to say that yeah, this is a bad album. It's a crap album. It's pure fluff without an ounce of substance. It's slogans and catchphrases. It has all the lyrical impact of a Wal Mart grocery list. The party does not stop, not even when you want it to, it just keeps on raving because that's what Florida Georgia Line are all about, getting high, getting drunk, getting lucky and the only thing stronger than their libidos is the THC content of the weed. An album that doesn't give a damn about what kind of music it is, and I'm not saying that's a bad thing but these guys come off like hicks with a fascination for Yeezy, they can't get rid of the twang but they can't throw down very well either.

You know what that means? That's right! "Anything Goes" is a classic, not to be missed! You'll find yourself stuck between cringing and laughter as you hear such masterful lyrics as "Victoria's Secret ain't a secret no more" and "Baby you ain't nothin' but a masterpiece/Swayin' and sippin' those Dos Equis". And check this: "All I wanna do is wear my favorite shades and get stoned/And all I wanna do is lace my Jays and lace some Jack in my Coke". Doesn't that make you want to run out and buy the record? And some whiskey? And Coke? And pot? Yes, folks, this album is laugh-out-loud bad and it doesn't let up with the party hardyin'. The closest you get to a ballad is "Dirt" which is, like, a tribute to...you guessed it. Dirt. Mud. It's a farmer thing, you wouldn't understand.

So I'm gonna recommend this stinker of an album because sometimes it's just fun to listen to a stinker of an album, it helps you appreciate the ones that don't stink all the more. But beware. The very sound waves emitted from your speakers when you play Florida Georgia Line will probably reek of weed and whiskey. It's too bad I don't do that stuff or this might sound like "Sgt. Pepper" to me.

Pushing the Wall

We're pushing up against a wall
Rain thrown like bullets in a storm
Pelting
Stinging
Burning for something just out of reach
A patient moonbeam
The sound of unfamiliar animals, wild
Huddled beneath the pouring water
Sheltered by alien trees
Push, push, though it never gives
We are here to push

They are gathering again
I can hear them through the whispered breeze
Speaking in tongues, rattling swords
Waiting for the clarion call
Here she comes, baby, here she comes
Hear their marching feet
The war songs so beautifully deceiving
A company of angels
Armed for an onslaught
Unfamiliar animals

How did we wind up here in the first place?
That's all I'd really like to know
Airplanes and cannonballs
Relative oxygen
Hark, I can hear the battle horns
A mournful bellowing
Signifying
Victory
Cracks in the wall

Dances for victory, dance with the enemy
Yes, they see our fear
Empty and they soon fall and run
Busted by confusion
Just lay down, be still, they may not see you
Try not to breathe
It's not that hard
It's not so hard

Maybe we'll get lucky this time
The wall surely will relent
Sing like a bird, woo-hoo
Kill two with one stone
Get lucky, this is the time
This is the place
Throwing sevens to the wind

And I'll never be so easy to read
And I'll never be your tough nut to crack
And I'll never be a grounded lightning rod
And I'll never be caught in a loop
And I'll never be anything but me
Me is all I'll ever be

Funeral procession crawls down the sidewalk
Carrying bodies tied to chains
Dragging them to the cemetery
Mumbling prayers, saying them backwards
That's the language the devil understands

How long and how far?
How are you forever?
Back and forth, my love
Feel your love forever

Breathe in, breathe out
Listen to the rasp
Start counting

Of course I don't know what it means
Do I look that smart to you?

Some push with their backs against the wall

from Bipolar Confessional