Sunday, June 17, 2007

Summer's Here, Let's Imagine Snow

See the tousled mane. She's boyish but singing like an exposed woman who hasn't lost the little girl inside of her. Julie Doiron's songs have this mesmerizing effect, possessed of a kind of purity, but not innocence. No. There's edge and not edge defined by brutality I don't think. Whenever I hear her songs, I feel like I'm being let in on a secret. And I feel a sense of gratitude for the fact that I can hear these haunting and validating miracles. Her music presents a lovely ambiguity of feelings. Just right. Just right.

Doiron's latest album "Woke Myself Up" has secretly creeped into my life this year and has become my favorite thus far, if only because I've listened to it more than any other and I can't stop. The songs on this album are movements, they build (not necessarily building up to cacophonous). You have to hear the whole song to get a sense. Every song has this unexpected turn in sense, melody, or texture that makes it transcendent. Yet they're all kind of matter-of-fact. That's what I like about her. Life is moving enough without too much embellishment or overarching dramatics. Because when the smoke clears, I think it's the genuine, hashed out connections that matter. Doiron connects with me like that. And I can only hope that she's allowed to continue to create. Please.

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