The Dailies 1/25/10: Too Many Movies for a Witty Tagline (Part II)

Welcome back. Previously, on 1/12, I had written the first part of this column, covering the Decalogue, volumes IV-X. You can read that here. Today we’ll take a look at five other films I’ve watched in the recent past. I apologize for the sporadic posts of late. I was on vacation in Mexico last week, and though I briefly considered leaving the pool and my frozen margarita to write about electro-pop and independent silent films, I decided to put it off for a while.

Trailerz

Little Dieter Needs to Fly (1997)
Director: Werner Herzog
Principal Actors: Dieter Dengler, Werner Herzog

Famed idiosyncratic director Werner Herzog helmed this documentary about a German-American fighter pilot shot down over Laos in the Vietnam War and the incredible struggle he endured to make it back home safely, a story that provided the basis for Herzog’s 2006 feature film Rescue Dawn (discussed in more detail back on 5/28/09). Herzog, both in his features and documentaries, loves subjects who live off the beaten path. He makes films about big dreamers, tyrants, wanderers, revolutionaries, and the like, and shows us how their desires and ambitions drive them mad. He also enjoys the dichotomy of the reasonable complexity of humanity against the natural complexity of the jungle, and Little Dieter Needs to Fly provides him with both.

Herzog gives us the back story of Dieter Dengler, a man who had known since he was a baby boy growing up in Germany that he wanted to be a pilot. We go through Dengler’s life; his immigration to America, his initial service time in the armed forces performing menial work, and finally, his conscription as a Navy pilot. Dengler joins the Vietnam War, but is shot down shortly afterwards, and Herzog and Dengler together describe the torments and hardships Dengler suffers as a captive of Viet Cong-sympathetic Laotians. Dengler’s personality is the most enjoyable part of the film; he speaks of his time in the jungle, his trials, and the friends he made while in captivity in a soft but factual tone, as if trying to explain his experiences to close friends. He’s not captivating only because of what he went through. Dieter Dengler, we can see, is a good person and a good soldier. The way he tells his story and the way he conducts himself, apart from the gruesome details, is why the film works.

Ideas in Little Dieter Needs to Fly fall flat. Herzog does a tremendous job of showing the thoughtful side of Dengler, but he often tries to force and further connections and comparisons that either aren’t necessarily there or aren’t built up strongly enough. Make no mistake; the film is about Dengler’s time as a captive in the jungle, despite the title. Herzog attempts to portray Dengler as a dreamer solely determined by his desire to be a pilot at the beginning of the film and at points throughout, but the connection isn’t convincing. It’s not that the film truly suffers because of it, but at its ending, when we get a shot of Dieter Dengler in an airfield surrounded by thousands of aircraft (the point being that this is paradise for him), the symbolism rings a bit hollow. Despite these shortcomings, Little Dieter Needs to Fly is a well-made film with an engrossing subject and story. B. (Originally aired on television, the film was nominated for an “Outstanding Non-Fiction Special” Emmy Award in 1999).

The Public Enemy (1931)
Director: William A. Wellman
Principal Actors: James Cagney, Edward Woods, Joan Blondell, Donald Cook

The Public Enemy, at the time of its release, was considered an ultra-violent, ultra-bloody gangster film, and though it is indisputably tame by today’s standards, one can see a connection between this film and more recent gangster films like Goodfellas and Casino. The Public Enemy shows the seemingly great life one can achieve when they take a life of crime, and then scramble to show all of the awful negatives that accompany such a life toward the conclusion of the film, just like the aforementioned Scorsese films.

The Public Enemy stars James Cagney, in one of his first leading roles, as Tom Powers, a local hood who works his way up in the world of organized crime. The film launched Cagney’s career, and rightfully so; he’s terrific in it, and the film wouldn’t be half as good without him. Cagney’s Tom Powers has a look of perennial meanness and intensity; we see it at points, like the famous scene where he smashes a grapefruit into his girlfriend’s face, but most of the time it’s hidden just beneath the surface. We always know it’s there, but we don’t know when it’s going to explode, and this guessing game provided by Cagney’s acting helps keep us engaged.

Looking at the story of The Public Enemy from a 2010 perspective, you’d think it’s not breaking new ground, but I’d imagine for the time this was pretty groundbreaking and serious stuff. It follows the usual routes. Hood starts as a child, works his way up the ladder as time goes by, experiences setbacks, consolidates power, gets too big for his britches and gets his comeuppance. By now we’ve seen it a thousand times, but we’ve seen it a thousand times because it’s effective, and thankfully Cagney carries the film where it needs to go. The gangsters could have been badder and more ruthless to really drive the film’s point home, but it was successfully made. Crime and hooliganism = bad. B+. (Nominated for “Best Writing, Original Story” Academy Award in 1931).

The Battleship Potemkin, or Bronenosets Potyomkin (1925)
Director: Sergei M. Eisenstein
Principal Actors: Aleksandr Antonov, Vladimir Barsky, Grigori Aleksandrov

Perhaps the most well-regarded and most important silent film outside of the work of Chaplin or Keaton (Buster, not Michael), The Battleship Potemkin was once thought to be so powerful that it could incite revolutionary riots among its viewers. It was banned in several countries at various times due to its political rhetoric, and, according to Roger Ebert, was listed in various “best films of all time” lists from the time of its creation an onward through several decades.

I can’t pretend to have deep, firsthand knowledge of the Russian Revolution and the anti-Czarist, anti-government feelings that permeated that time, and truthfully, The Battleship Potemkin didn’t provide me with any. That’s not, however, the point of the film. Potemkin, in terms of storyline, is a pure propaganda film extolling the virtues of the rebellion against the Czarist regime in Russia. We are beaten over the head with symbolism of Russian sailors eating maggot-infested meat, mistreatment of sailors by one-dimensional commanders, cruel and needless deaths of Russian civilians at the hands of Czarist soldiers, etc. Eventually, the symbols lose their meaning. The Battleship Potemkin, in some ways regarding storyline, resembles a Saturday morning cartoon, with perhaps less depth and less respect for the audience’s intelligence.

Really, though, The Battleship Potemkin isn’t about the story. It’s about the amazing things that Sergei M. Eisenstein was able to capture with his camera, in a silent film, in 1925. Its sequences are huge and breathtaking. Remember that scene, parodied in countless television shows, cartoons, and films (notably The Untouchables) of the baby carriage careening uncontrollably down a flight of stairs? That scene came from this film, and that sequence of a crowd of innocent civilians being gunned down on the Odessa Steps by government troops, is one of the most famous of all time. The Battleship Potemkin gives off a surreal aura. It’s old and its story is rather foolish, but it has an unmistakable air of power, importance, and even mysticism about it, as if you’re watching something unearthed from a time capsule. B+.

Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Director: Quentin Tarantino
Principal Actors: Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Steve Buscemi, Chris Penn

Being a huge Tarantino mark, I surprised even myself by not having seen Reservoir Dogs until a few weeks ago. Tarantino’s feature film debut sets the tone for his later releases; tremendous dialogue, brutal violence, and the idea of grown, (semi) reasonable people grasping for order and truth amidst chaos and disorder.

The majority of the action in Reservoir Dogs (in fact, all of it, apart from flashbacks) takes place in an industrial garage, which serves as a rendezvous point for several professional thieves. The thieves have been tasked with robbing a jewelry story, but everything during the heist gets fucked up. They return, one at a time, to the garage to try and piece together what happened, why it happened, and what to do next. The most exhilarating part of Reservoir Dogs, to me, was watching the thieves, specifically Mr. White (Keitel) and Mr. Pink (Buscemi), alternate between arguing with each other and trying to work together to forge a plan to get them out of their predicament. The violence and bloodshed is just garnish; the real meat comes from the characters, who pride themselves on being “professionals”, trying to figure out what happened and what to do and continually coming up empty.

The film begins Tarantino’s penchant for telling the story out of sequential order, a trait that works very well here. Piece by piece, he provides us with details of these characters; how they came to do this particular job, how one was shot, how another died, how another made it back to the safe house, etc. Each time we learn a little more about what happened before, and we can decipher part of the story for ourselves. Reservoir Dogs is an involving film with a great story, great acting and great dialogue. It’s hard to ask for much more than this from a(n admittedly non-prototypical) gangster film. A-.

The Fearless Freaks (2005)
Director: Bradley Beesley
Principal Actors: Wayne Coyne, Steven Drozd, Michael Ivins, various family members of these three

The Fearless Freaks is a retrospective documentary about the history of the Flaming Lips, an alt-rock band from Oklahoma. It follows the creation, continuation, stagnation, and ultimate promulgation of the Flaming Lips as they went from being a seldom-heard noise rock outfit to critically acclaimed, commercially successful (though not mainstream) noise rock outfit.

The Fearless Freaks tries to strike a balance between discussing the history of the band and painting a picture of each of its members, which allow them to go off on zany tangents and discuss their many passions and musings on life. Wayne Coyne, the lead singer and guitarist for the band, is the focal point, and he comes off as quite humble, charming and likable. He talks at length about his childhood and the effect that it had on his music, and tells a story about how he was held at gunpoint in a Long John Silver’s he worked at as a teenager. He goes back to the site of the restaurant in the film and cutely reenacts the robbery with the children of a Vietnamese couple who had since purchased the establishment. He talked about the robbery, and how pissed the gunmen were and how he thought he was going to die, and said, “This is really how you die; it's just one minute, you're just cooking up someone's order of French fries, and the next minute you're laying on the floor and they blow your brains out, and there's no music, there's no significance, it's just random - it could've been anybody.” There are unexpected moments of truthfulness and intensity like this throughout the film that give it a bit more weight than a standard rockumentary.

Of course, the film is meant to give unenlightened viewers a history of the career of the band and a glimpse of the people in it, and it succeeds at doing this. We see footage and hear music from the band’s first gigs in the early 80s, and the trajectory of their career is handled expertly. The Flaming Lips are truly interesting, quirky guys, and the film follows this ideal by being quirky in itself. Its cuts, interludes, and asides are often brisk and unexpected, and things often seem cheerfully and methodically unhinged, much like the band itself. B+.

John Lacey

The Dailies 1/12/10: Too Many Movies For A Witty Tagline (Part I)

Welcome back to another edition of the Dailies, where I take a closer look at some of the films I’ve watched over the recent past. Generally, I do two “trailerz”, in which I briefly discuss a couple of films and my opinions on them, and then write an essay on the third film in the column.

Over the holidays, I finally put a decent dent in my Netflix queue and watched way too many movies, so I’m going to take the brief approach to all of them. Hopefully that doesn’t offend any of my diehard fans.

Remember the last Dailies column, published on 11/29/09? Of course you don’t! In that column, my essay discussed Volumes I-III of “the Decalogue”, a mini-series produced for Polish television in 1989. You can see that, if you want to, here. We’ll get started by finishing our discussion of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s masterpiece, and later in the week we’ll move on to other areas.

Trailerz

“Dekalog” (or “the Decalogue”), Volumes IV-VII
Director: Krzysztof Kieslowski
Principal Actors: Episode IV: Adrianna Biedrynska, Janusz Gajos; Episode V: Miroslaw Baka, Krzysztof Globisz; Episode VI: Grazyna Szapolowska, Olaf Lubaszenko; Episode VII: Anna Polony, Maja Barelkowska, Wladyslaw Kowalski

Volumes IV-VII pick up right where the first three editions of “the Decalogue” left off, with more tales of the emotionally drained, morally confused inhabitants of a high-rise apartment building in late 80s Warsaw. The Biblical theme persists, with each chapter of “the Decalogue” pertaining to one or more of the Ten Commandments in some way.

Volume IV concerns a young girl who lives with her single father. One day, the father goes away on business, and she finds a letter in her father’s desk marked “Open after my death”. Without spoiling the plot of the story, this letter results in a discussion between the girl and her father as to who her real father is and the nature of their relationship. Volume IV might have been my least favorite volume of “the Decalogue”, because it was very heavy on dialogue and low on symbolism. Of course, I’m all in favor of films moved along by well-written dialogue, but because the language was Polish, I actually feel like I lost something in the translation and didn’t pick up on certain things that were said between the two that would have painted the nature of their relationship in a clearer light. “The Decalogue”, despite portraying rather complicated storylines and rather complicated characters, becomes quite simple to understand when we see the sullen face of a protagonist thinking about their next decision amidst personal chaos. We all understand that, no matter the language. If I was fluent in Polish, I might think Volume IV is brilliant, but I feel I was missing something.

Volume V is one of my personal favorites, following a young man (Baka) who indiscriminately kills a taxi cab driver in brutal fashion. The juxtaposition of his murder of the cab driver and the ensuing countdown towards his own federal execution clearly shows Kieslowski’s disdain for capital punishment. Baka is terrific as a stupid kid who did a terrible thing, and his ensuing terror as he is led to the gallows of the prison is one of the most haunting scenes in the series.

Volume VI might be the best film in “the Decalogue”. It concerns a young peeping tom in the high-rise (Lubaszenko) who constantly watches a pretty woman across the courtyard (Szapolowska). He’s madly in love with her, and devises various schemes by which he can interact with her. He eventually outs himself as a peeper and she then plays with him in order to destroy his youthful, innocent vision of love and affection. It’s not clear if she succeeds, but she realizes that her life is unrewarding and unfulfilling and the young man can actually give her something she desperately needs. Volume VI was expanded into an 86 minute film, A Short Film About Love. It is absolutely terrific, and marks the high point of a series filled with them.

Finally, Volume VII, another strong entry. In this edition, a 22-year old female, Majka (Barelkowska) lives with her parents and an infant girl. The young girl is actually the daughter of Majka, but Majka’s mother is ashamed that her daughter reared a child at such a young age and treats the young child as if she were her own daughter. Majka is not allowed to display motherly affection for the girl in public and is not allowed to tell anyone that the girl is hers. Eventually, she breaks, and kidnaps the young girl so that they can go to a place where she can actually raise the child as her own daughter. In the end, Majka’s desire for independence and freedom for her mother end up even trumping her love of her daughter. A- for the entire disc.

“Dekalog” (or “the Decalogue”), Volumes VIII-X
Director: Krzysztof Kieslowski
Principal Actors: Episode VIII: Teresa Marczewska, Maria Koscialkowska; Episode IX: Ewa Blasczyk, Piotr Machalica, Jan Jankowski; Episode X: Jerzy Stuhr, Zbigniew Zamachowski

“The Decalogue” ends with the final three volumes, starting with Volume VIII. This was another volume where I didn’t quite follow everything that was going on and why, but I managed to enjoy it nonetheless when I started putting the pieces together. A woman in her forties, Elzbieta (Marczewska) confronts an elderly professor of ethics (Koscialkowska) at the University of Warsaw. The elderly woman had a chance during World War II to save the life of the younger woman (at the time a child), but due to various political and personal factors at the time, chose not to. She believed the young girl to be dead until this confrontation, done expertly during one of Koscialkowska’s ethics lectures, guised as a legitimate question. They work with each other to ease the other’s pain; one who had lost faith in humanity at such a young age, and the other who never knew what happened to the little girl she refused.

Volume IX is another winner; in it, Roman (Machalica) is deemed impotent by a doctor, and he immediately considers his marriage to be over. His wife (Blasczyk), states her undying loyalty to her husband, but he pushes her away, believing she deserves better than an impotent, aging man. Without his knowledge, she has been acting on his lack of devotion for some time, shacking up with a local college student. His attempts at sleuthing and the various interjections of fate that occur are brilliantly written and orchestrated, but the idea is perhaps overly simple: they didn’t realize how much they actually loved and needed each other until they were unable to manifest that love physically.

Finally, Volume X, which adds some levity to the proceedings, even though it doesn’t sound like a very light or funny story. In it, two brothers are summoned to attend their father’s funeral and browse his belongings. Their father was a stamp collector, you see, and he actually appears in a couple of the earlier “Decalogue” volumes (notably Volume VIII) proudly showing off his latest additions. The father was obsessed with his collection; the boys rarely visited him and he needed something to occupy his time with. Beyond that, however, the collection made him feel young; only a boy or girl could feel elated after purchasing a rare stamp and only a child would have such a singular determination to pursue something, in the end, so meaningless. The two brothers eventually realize that their father’s stamp collection is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but they don’t sell it. Instead, they both undergo a transformation, realizing what their father saw in collecting stamps and beginning to act like children themselves in trying to add rare pieces to the collection. In the end, they are robbed, and though devastated, they resolve to start a new collection, for their father and themselves. Fantastic stuff. A for the entire disc.

I’ll return shortly with Little Dieter Needs to Fly, The Public Enemy (from 1931, not the recent crapfest), The Battleship Potemkin, Reservoir Dogs, and Flaming Lips documentary The Fearless Freaks.

John Lacey

Matt's Top 10 Albums of 2009

1) Baroness – Blue Record

I’m not the first person to put this album at number one on a year-end list, but it really deserves all the hype. If you want to know my full opinion, read my review here (http://themusicarium.blogspot.com/2009/11/baroness-blue-record.html).

2) Mastodon – Crack the Skye

This album was my # 1 from the moment I listened to it the whole way through, up until the release of Blue Record. I listened to this album more than any other full album this year, and with two 13-minute epics, that’s really saying something. Full review found here (http://themusicarium.blogspot.com/2009/04/mastadon-crack-skye.html).

3) Alice in Chains – Black Gives Way to Blue

Comeback album of the year, by far. Say what you want about AiC carrying on without Layne, but the music is undeniable. Proof that AiC’s music will always be timeless, regardless of whatever trend or craze might be “hot” in the music industry. Full review: http://themusicarium.blogspot.com/2009/10/alice-in-chains-black-gives-way-to-blue.html.

4) Dave Matthews Band – Big Whiskey and the Groo Grux King

Yeah, yeah, I know. One of these things is not like the other. Screw you. I’ve been a big DMB fan since 1995, and I haven’t enjoyed a full album by them since 1998’s Before These Crowded Streets, until now. DMB haven’t sounded this alive or inspired in the studio in a long, long time, and the songs are solid all the way through. If you can’t appreciate the groove of “Shake Me Like a Monkey” or the melodies of “Lying in the Hands of God,” I don’t know what to tell you.

5) Revocation – Existence Is Futile

On their Relapse debut (second album total), Revocation released one of the sickest, heaviest, catchiest, riff-godliest balls-out metal albums I’d heard in a long, long time. Take the technical thrash of Sadus and combine with the winning songwriting of early Megadeth or Metallica, add in guitar wizardry via early Testament, and add in some early Death-inspired vocals, and you have an album that wears its influences on its sleeve, but still sounds totally original and inspired. And from a trio, no less!

6) Katatonia – Night Is the New Day

I had to listen to this album 3 or 4 times before the songs really started to stick, but once they did… wow. This is by far Katatonia’s gloomiest record since Discouraged Ones, with no real uplifting rockers like they’ve had in the past couple of releases. The band has taken the darkest elements of The Great Cold Distance and expanded them with some more keyboard work, moody guitar lines similar to older releases, and Jonas Renske’s always depressing lyrics and vocal work. Renske gives probably his best vocal performance ever on this release, and that’s saying a lot for me, considering Last Fair Deal Gone Down was always their ultimate album, in my opinion. I can’t tell where I’d rank this among the rest of their catalog, but it definitely stood out to me as one of the best of this year.

7) Slayer – World Painted Blood

Slayer’s last couple of albums have been very hit-or-miss, with some great tracks (“New Faith,” “Disciple,” “Cult,” “Flesh Storm,” “Jihad”), but a lot of crap, too (“Here Comes the Pain,” “Skeleton Christ”). World Painted Blood starts out with the mid-paced title track, something the band hasn’t really done since 1994’s Divine Intervention, usually picking a faster track to open things up. And it’s the mid-paced tracks on World that really stand out the most, featuring a lot of inventive riffing and some of Tom Araya’s best creepy vocals, recalling “Dead Skin Mask” and “South of Heaven.” On the whole, the album is solid all the way through (minus “Americon,” which sounds like a riff a 12-year-old would come up with), something I haven’t been able to say about a Slayer album since Seasons in the Abyss. Full review: http://themusicarium.blogspot.com/2009/12/metal-by-steele-1.html.

8) Lamb of God – Wrath

Lamb of God are, in a lot of ways, the 2000s answer to Slayer. They have a signature sound that they rarely stray from, a die-hard fan base that listens primarily to them and them only (although I’d say LoG die-hards listen to more different metal bands than most Slayer lifers). Wrath isn’t their best album, that’d be 2003’s As the Palaces Burn, but I enjoy it better than their last effort, 2006’s Sacrament. It sounds like, well, a Lamb of God album, with a few new touches (blastbeats, clearer vocals on some tracks, acoustic interludes), so if you’re a fan like I am, you’re satisfied.

9) Shadows Fall – Retribution

After their major label misstep (according to most; I actually liked it), 2007’s Threads of Life, Shadows Fall returned in 2009 with an album that took the melody and streamlined songs of Threads and applied it to the aggression and ferocity of earlier releases like Of One Blood and The Art of Balance. The choruses are catchy as hell, and the highlight of the record has to be “King of Nothing,” featuring LoG’s Randy Blythe on guest vocals. The bonus edition with the cover of “Bark at the Moon” by Ozzy Osbourne is pretty rad, too. Solid step back in the right direction for these self-described Massholes.

10) Killswitch Engage – Killswitch Engage

You either like Killswitch Engage’s newer stuff or you don’t. A lot of their metalhead fan base ditched them after 2004’s The End of Heartache, more specifically when they released an album that sounded, well, almost exactly the same in 2006 with As Daylight Dies. Utilizing an outside producer for the first time – Brendan O’Brien, of Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains fame – the band’s songwriting style hasn’t changed much, but their overall sound has… at least, it has a little. There are a lot more vocal harmonies on this album than on any past KsE release, and the production has more of a big rock sound than a clear, crisp metal sound. These guys stick to a formula, for sure, but at least the formula sounded a little different this time around. Plus, “The Reckoning” is probably the best song they’ve done since Alive or Just Breathing.

Matt Steele

The Undisputeds: Sun Kil Moon - Ghosts of the Great Highway

Sun Kil Moon
Ghosts of the Great Highway
2003 Jetset Records (reissued in 2007 on Caldo Verde Records)

Sun Kil Moon is a project created by prolific songwriter Mark Kozelek, who had previously led the group Red House Painters and continues to release music both under his own name and the Sun Kil Moon moniker. His sound is unmistakable. He’s an understated singer, and his cadence and oft-brilliant arrangements work together to create moods both harrowing and beautiful.

There’s a longing soul behind the words and music, a soul very evident on Sun Kil Moon’s first release, Ghosts of the Great Highway. Kozelek rarely thinks forward, choosing instead to direct his writing towards discussion of the past. He paints pictures of past feelings and events in his life, not necessarily as a wish that these days return, but as a remembrance and as an appreciation of the good and bad. He’s fully aware that past is past, which makes his music more relatable and more poignant. Ghosts of the Great Highway brings us into Kozelek’s past, but also ours; moments large and small, triumphant and regretful, are conjured by his words and music and the feelings they generate.

The opener, “Glenn Tipton”, sets the brilliant tone for the album. With soft guitar, Kozelek sings about watching Clark Gable films on late-night cable, and how his father once liked to do the same:

Just like my dad did when he was home; /
Staying up late, staying up alone

He continues his remembrances, thinking back on an old flame:

I buried my first victim when I was nineteen; /
Went through her bedroom and the pockets of her jeans. /
And found her letters that said so many things that really hurt me bad. /
I never breathed her name again, /
But I like to dream about what could have been.

Kozelek’s ability to easily articulate feelings we’ve all experienced without resorting to clichés is perhaps his biggest strength.

He often employs the tactic of finding a nice melody and playing on that for an extended period; witness “Carry Me Ohio”, the second track. Numerous verses stretch out over six and a half minutes, but it’s never boring. Like Bob Dylan, Kozelek is able to confidently and strongly repeat ideas and themes, due to the ingenuity of his lyrics and the beauty of his music.

Kozelek finds boxers to be of particular interest, and three of the tracks on Ghosts of the Great Highway recall the lives of noted fighters. The third track on the album, “Salvador Sanchez”, uses a much grungier guitar riff, similar to something from Neil Young. Kozelek squeals over the booming guitar about different boxers who perished in the ring:

Have they gone, fell by leather,
So alone, but bound together.

An extended distorted guitar solo punctuates the tales of their poor fates.

A suite of sorts follows, with three-minute “Last Tide” bleeding into “Floating”. Both move back to the album’s initial motif of understated guitar pieces, and provide more great-sounding music. Stringed instruments are employed to add more weight to the already-strong proceedings.

Kozelek’s vocals are forceful enough to be noticed and appreciated while listening, but they’re soft enough to allow the listener to trail off into their own thoughts. It’s hard not to get wrapped up in thinking about your own experiences while listening to Ghosts of the Great Highway, which is one of the album’s many strengths and treasures.

“Gentle Moon” picks up where “Floating” left off, with more pretty guitars and lyrics. The verses function as a plea for some force to help those who need it:

Smile down on us sun, show your rays /
When things come undone… /
Rain, fall and voice sound, for those of whom, /
Still are not found

This all works back into a soaring, atmospheric chorus, keeping the album moving at its dizzying pace.

Things get a touch abrasive and grounded with “Lily and Parrots”, which is the most straight-ahead rocker on this album. It moves into the album’s centerpiece, the swirling epic “Duk Koo Kim”, an ode to another boxer who died after a fight with Ray “Boom Boom” Mancini. The song clocks in at fourteen minutes; the number of rounds Kim lasted in his final match, and is like an album to itself. It features several distinct movements and pieces. Kim’s untimely death is used as a device to explain how our ends can happen anytime, and how chaotic and senseless things are. The genteel arrangement eventually opens up into a droning, wondrous maelstrom; loud and forceful but never hard on the ears. “Duk Koo Kim” is the album’s masterpiece; a 14 ½ minute epic journey that never loses steam or gets boring.

After that, the album’s final two songs take things down a notch and allow the listener to breathe. “Si Paloma” is an excellent instrumental song; there aren’t many secrets under its surface, but it’s a joy to hear, with Spanish-sounding guitar and flourishes. The album’s final track, “Pancho Villa”, is a reworking of “Salvador Sanchez”, with the same lyrics but a different structure and tempo. It is a strong closer, building on and punctuating what came before and sending us off with another beautiful listen.

I’ve never heard another artist who so easily evokes and rouses distant personal memories and images than on Ghosts of the Great Highway. The music and Kozelek’s lyrics work together to create a sort of sonic time machine, and then they create the perfect soundtrack for that experience. It’s that feeling of bittersweet nostalgia the album creates, in addition to the overall strength of the music, which makes the album so great. Listening to it can be an exhilarating affair.

John Lacey