Music
The National ‘Boxer’: The Best Album of 2007
I’m going to have to go with Sixeyes on this one — a great album in heavy rotation here for some time now.
What are your top 10 most-played songs currently?
In no particular order:
- Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken — Camera Obscura
- Jackie — The New Pornographers
- Impossible Germany — Wilco
- Who Do You Love? — Ted Leo & The Pharmacists
- Various Stages — Great Lake Swimmers
- Emily Jean Stock — Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
- Maybe Sparrow — Neko Case
- Post-War — M. Ward
- Exactly Like You — Nina Simone
- Hate It Here — Wilco
(via Caryn’s blog)
In a new release of stories from the wildly popular public radio program This American Life, the double CD compilation of personal essays knowingly sums up the human experience in just two words: hope and fear. In This American Life: Stories of Hope & Fear, we find that even the seemingly mundane experiences hold a raw level of both. The presence of hope and fear is often palpable in the most basic of human experiences, and in the current climate of political, environmental and global pressures, the duality of hope and fear is a particularly appropriate case study. The album opens with deceptively simple story of a young man anxious to make it on his own in New York City … and then we slowly realize how vulnerable and needful we all really are, as things that only happen to the idea of us can leave us questioning just about everything. At the end of the first segment, “If I Can Make It There” an interview with Jorge Just, host Ira Glass very succinctly sums up the concepts in this collection and the very duality of both hope and fear this way: “Hope is dangerous. Hope makes you vulnerable – you can be disappointed, you can fail. There is a lot to be afraid of. In that way, stories of hope and stories of fear have a lot in common.” The collection, one CD titled “Hope” and one, “Fear”, branches off in various directions from this point, but always keeping that same thread weaving in and out.
There are eleven segments in this collection, and as with most things, there are definite rich and profound high points. Elsewhere the thread of the hope and fear concept feels a bit more strained, contrived. Still, each story builds in a very unique way, adding to the overall sum of the parts. Host Ira Glass adds his narrations in a way that doesn’t interfere with the reality of those involved. Deftly backing the effort are interludes and accompaniment by several notable indie gems, including Calexico, Morcheeba and Portastatic. As if that weren’t enough, the album art is by Divya Srinivasan – you may recognize her folksy style and endearing illustrations from Sufjan Stevens‘ Illinoise and Avalanche albums. From the top down, the producers have carefully considered each element and how it may enhance the setting and emotion within each story.
On the “Hope” disc, the full force punch of just how powerful these stories can be is laid out by track 3. In “Thinking Inside the Box”, David Wilcox begins by making us laugh, never for a moment letting on to what is about to pull us in to face a reality that all of us have had to face in one form or another … the cycle of nurturing, love and loss that can be all too familiar. As he recounts how his dying mother created a video for his mentally retarded sister, we hear Wilcox describe with humor, frankness and tenderness. It is in these heartfelt and raw moments that this collection is at its best, without affectation or cloying sweetness. These are confessions and revelations that grab you – and you find yourself completely relating to the emotion behind the piece, if not the scenario. Other times, it is the combination of simple honesty and the complex reality of human relationships that sets you on end. The engrossing tale of “The Babysitters” starts off slowly, but then spirals into a fascinating recollection of two siblings who as children invented a story that took on a life of its own. As with many of these pieces, the hidden stories that run underneath and live within the larger tale unwind and peek through in sometimes surprising ways.
Other moments in the set work well enough, but seem to try a bit too hard. “Is This Thing On?” (two friends test out their comedic theories, with drastically different results) and “Miami Vices” (a woman revisits her diary entries from the ripe age of 13) are witty and well told, but in both cases seem to be a bit too self-interested and run a bit long. Surprisingly (or perhaps not so much), David Sedaris’ modern-day fable of a chipmunk and a squirrel trying to “make it work” suffers the same problem. Sedaris is certainly clever and in another format, this piece may have worked better, but up against more gritty and genuine clips, it just feels forced and out of place.
Disc 2, “Fear”, opens with a well-spoken piece read by Tom Wright. “Fears of Your Life”, written by Michael Bernard Loggins as a way to cope with his own fears, starts out as a list of fears and works up into a running thought process that could very well be the backdrop to anyone’s day. This combination of emotion and prose exhibits everything that I love about a good spoken word clip, great intonation, pacing and sincerity. The next two segments are grand slams, albeit in different ways. Julie Snyder’s “On Hold No One Can Hear You Scream” we get an up close and personal seat to just how frustrating it can be to be the person on the other end of the line. In a month long battle with the phone company over erroneous charges, Snyder humorously, yet sincerely recounts how the whole situation made her feel helpless, angry and disillusioned. I think every one of us could see (or have seen) ourselves in that same position at some point in our lives as consumers, and I found myself sympathizing at the same time as laughing along with her. In contrast, “Anti-Oedipus”, an audio documentary/interview by Nancy Updike, steadily chronicles a family trying to exist without being able to cope with the truth – and in the end, things turn out completely different than anyone could have expected. Both of these segments are long, clocking in at around twenty minutes apiece, but the stories and styles are so appealing and enchanting, you never seem stuck.
This American Life: Stories of Hope and Fear probably isn’t something you’d race out to your local bookstore or music shop to wait in line to purchase. Which isn’t to say it wouldn’t be worth the trip – rather such a delicate and well-considered collection, even with its flaws, inspires, perhaps, a more esoteric approach. In reverence to the naturally exquisite everyday of the human condition.
Bottom line: While not every hit is a homerun, this compilation is a winner. A great companion to take along in your holiday travels.

