Matthew Houck, better known as alt-country singer/songwriter Phosphorescent, recently submitted a fragile, stripped down cover of Vampire Weekend's "Yah Hey," over Cal State radio. While not the most obvious choice at first glance, given the similar religious themes that hang heavily over both acts most recent albums(Muchacho and Modern Vampires of the City, respectively), and not too mention Houck and VW frontman Ezra Koenig don't sound all that different from each other, I think the selection works perfectly. The bare bones cover (just a man and his guitar) can be heard below.
After a scorching first day of performances at Chicago's Pitchfork Music Festival which concluded with Bjork's headlining set being cut short due to severe weather, Day 2 promises to bring more agreeable weather to Union Park when the music gets underway this afternoon. Standout performances from Friday's lineup included Mac DeMarco, whose breezy set was part rock show, part stand up comedy, as the Montreal goofball pulled out outrageous covers of Metallica, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Limp Bizkit, and Eric Clapton that ensured the vibe wasn't too serious on a 90 degree afternoon. San Francisco surf rocker Mikal Cronin played a ripping 45 minute mixed with fuzzed out cuts from both his debut and sophomore LPs as fans moshed and crowd surfed until covered in dirt like any good festival pit. With the music kicking off at 1pm this afternoon, here's a look at the sets we're most eager to catch:
Phosphorescent: 2:30pm (Green Stage)
The project of Brooklyn based singer-songwriter Matthew Houck released its sixth album, Muchacho, earlier this year to overwhelmingly positive acclaim. The record's single, "Song for Zula," is a strong contender for song of the year as it pairs beautifully textured production with thoughtful lyrics. Expect a sunny afternoon set full of newer material as well as back catalogue cuts from the artist's twelve year career.
Parquet Courts: 2:50pm (Blue Stage)
The Brooklyn punk rockers played a noisy, sprawling set at Buffalo's Tralf Music hall back in June which featured their classic indie rock evoking debut record, Light Up Gold in it's entirety. The spoken word poetry deliver style of frontman Andrew Savage along with playful guitar work allows the band's apathetic punk aesthetic to flourish. Expect the buzz around the young band to continue to grow as they should be welcomed by a large crowd eager to hear the lo fi punk outfit rip through jittery existential jams like "Borrowed Time" and the ridiculously catchy "Stoned and Starving."
Ryan Hemsworth: 5:45pm (Blue Stage)
Young producers seem to see their careers take off at such an accelerated pace these days and 22 year old Halifax native, Ryan Hemsworth is no exception. Since starting out as a laptop producer making tracks in his bedroom, he has developed a sound that combines elements of southern hip-hop, mainstream pop, R&B, as well as sample based electronica. His compositions are often ethereal and heavily layered, with a bright, optimistic feel and after playing a set at Buffalo's now closed Soundlab venue, his skills as a live performer have begun to take shape. The early evening show should be full of party anthems as well as intelligent, evocative tracks from a talented young artist who is clearly emerging as big name in the world of EDM.
Belle & Sebastian: 8:30pm (Blue Stage)
Keeping up with the tradition of the festival to bring in indie legends, the Scottish twee band will deliver a set full of their sophisticated pop tunes as the sun sets on Union park. Starting out as a school project that turned into one of the most critically acclaimed bands of the 90's, their lighthearted sound gained them countless fans worldwide. After reportedly being pursued for years by the festival for a booking, the bands clever lyrics and smooth instrumentation should be the perfect way to unwind after a long day in the sun.
Editor's note: If you missed any of this week's selections, you can check them out here.
Mac McGuire Album: Phosphorescent - Muchacho Muchacho, Phosphorecent's latest and best release to date, opens with the angelic "Sun, Arise!," itself bookended by the closing "Sun's Arising," Matthew Houck wastes no time in letting the listener know this is an album of awakening. What is found in between is Houck's journey of redemption, religion, and love, highlighted by the successful pairing of both conventional alt-country elements (mariachi horns, pedal steel slide guitar, violins) and non (synths, subtle electronics, dubby beats). Muchacho features a stunning one-two punch, maybe the best of the year, in the weary and reflective "Song for Zula" and the powerful show stopper "The Quotidian Beasts." The former, which would take top song honors if not for my selection below, features a wandering, Johnny Cash quoting narrator who feels to be "disfigured" by love and will be damned if he "opens [him]self up that way again."
Song: The National - "Sea of Love"
Like fellow Brooklynites The Walkmen, The National seem to have mastered the art of aging gracefully. Those “Mr. November” days are long gone, while family and a potentially soon-to-be post-rock ‘n’ roll life seem to be the band’s focus these days upon the release of their latest album, Trouble Will Find Me. On the tense and building “Sea of Love,” though, the men in The National remind everyone that they aren't going soft quite yet in their most thrilling and immediate song since “Abel,” and maybe best since “Slow Show.” While rocking out is great and all, it’s the little things that make this track really stand out: the welcoming heartland harmonica, the haunting backing harmonies, and those passionate pleas to “Joe” to “don’t drag me in” during the song’s thrilling conclusion. The great music video certainly didn't hurt either.
Joe Speranza
Album: The Lone Bellow - The Lone Bellow
Picking an album of the year is a very, very difficult thing to do and without some kind of aggregate it is impossible to do objectively. So all you loyal Daft Punk and Vampire Weekend listeners, and all you Kanye West martyrs, keep that in mind as I explain my choice.
Back in January, I wrote a gushing review of The Lone Bellow’s debut album in which I actually included the line “listening to The Lone Bellow is a potentially life-altering experience.” I wasn’t on drugs and I haven’t quit my job to follow them on tour, but it’s fair to say that my initial bewilderment with how good they are has quietly devolved into casual fandom. I’ve relaxed quite a bit since I proclaimed that “every so often, a band comes along that might just change everything.”
They haven’t exploded like I fearlessly predicted they would, but the release of their album was very important to me and it’s why I’m calling it the album of the year – so far. I previously called them a “kind-of country-sounding band,” which is – I can admit it now – inaccurate. They are very country. And I’m okay with it. And I never thought I’d type that.
The reason they appealed to me back then – and this is doing a disservice to the quality of the album from beginning to end – was that they were a Brooklyn-based band that had just recorded a country album. I grew up outside New York City, in a place where admitting you liked country music was not only frowned upon but a serious character flaw. It was wrong to like country music. So naturally, The Lone Bellow intrigued me. It was finally “okay” for me to listen to country music. And that’s great, because The Lone Bellow is just a beautiful album. The harmonies and buildups are perfect, and – if I can make an intangible tangible – you can hear how much this album meant to them. For more specific details and to read why I loved the album check out the initial review, but what you need to know is that there was a lot at stake for these guys and they really came up big.
The Lone Bellow has easily had the most profound effect on me this year; in case you care, I almost picked Indigo Meadow by The Black Angels – which was a huge return to form for them – but I already knew they were great. The Lone Bellow came out of nowhere and is the sole reason I now consider country music if not decent, tolerable. That’s a pretty big feat, so cheers to them.
Song: A$AP Rocky & Skrillex - "Wild for the Night"
In the same way people remember where they were and what they were doing during major, catastrophic events, I remember where I was and what I was doing the first time I heard “Wild For the Night” by A$AP Rocky and Skrillex. I was driving on that uneven stretch of road around the 219/I-90 merge where you start to think your car might just fall apart when all of a sudden, I heard the unmistakable, ghoulish voice of A$AP talking about his pistol and his morning routine. I thought okay, whatever, if my tires blow at least I’ll go out listening to a decent song. This was also around the time when I was deciding whether or not dubstep sounded better or worse than a fax machine and whether or not Skrillex was a genius or a joke. The 45-second mark of the song – the transition from the talking-with-your-mouth-full voice of A$AP to the button pressing brilliance of Skrillex – settled it pretty quickly; “Wild for the Night” literally made me smile and figuratively made everything clear: Skrillex is the shit and dubstep goes quite nicely with rap.
Ryan Wolf Album: Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Push The Sky Away Perhaps the first contemporary album to use Wikipedia and Miley Cyrus as artistic references without sounding shallow or smugly elitist, Push the Sky Away feels immediately prescient. Nick Cave and company demonstrate their continued awareness of the developing world we inhabit, crawling in its search for knowledge, placing faith in man’s flawed faculties while the Internet gathers and spreads human-generated information that may or may not reflect reality. As the all-knowing Google emerges as a man-made idol, Push the Sky Away returns to the flesh, favoring physical bodies and blood. Finding mystic qualities in seemingly neutral modern technology, Cave’s low-key, mid-tempo pastiche is deeper, darker, and more frighteningly astute than superficial listens suggest.
Song: Vampire Weekend - "Ya Hey"
Throughout Modern Vampires of the City, Vampire Weekend exchange class-focused secular musings in for serious religious introspection. On the record’s boldest, most full-frontal grappling with the spiritual, indie-pop royalty meets its Maker, addressing complaints, doubts, and praises to Yahweh (or “Ya Hey,” according to the inverted Outkast song title). Concealed within Exodus’s burning bush, God refuses to reveal his identity or “name,” obscuring the cosmic plan “through the fire and through the flames.” Earth’s searching onlookers may be left schismatic and confused, but Vampire Weekend’s fusion of inspired chants and chipmunk crooning sees beyond vicious ironies and mortal “mistakes” in this 21st century open letter to the Creator.
Nick Torsell Album: Disclosure - Settle I’ve been having trouble keeping up with the amount of great music coming out this year. Not because I haven’t been paying attention, but because it seems like every time a record takes hold of my mornings and nights, a new one knocks it from its place, clamoring for attention. The past two months have been unbelievably rewarding for me listening-wise, with three of my favorites releasing excellent additions to their catalogs. Boards of Canada, Daft Punk, and Kanye West, whose music has meant very different things at different points in my life but all had an enormous impact on me, all came through, and I’ll be digging through their newest records for years to come. But my record of the year is from a group who more than lived up to my high expectations after following their steady stream of remixes and singles, Disclosure. Settle, the 22 and 18 year-old Lawrence Brothers’ debut record, is body music, joyful and confident in a way that finds a way into your subconscious, coloring the daily rhythm of your routine. Settle is crowd-pleasing in the best way, endlessly appealing and diverse and never once pulling back from the throttle.
This past Saturday night, I had the opportunity to get to the third night of the Crossing Brooklyn Ferry festival at the Brooklyn Academy of Music while down in the city for work (not on assignment for buffaBLOG) and found myself vexed by a distressing turn of events. As a longtime TV On The Radio fan, I was very much looking forward to their closing set that was theoretically the climax of the three day festival curated by the National's Dessner brothers, and I was excited to see TVOTR again, this time in their native Brooklyn... until they started playing because their sound was deplorable. It was a sludgy, almost monotonous din that rendered Tunde Adibempe and Kyp Malone's vocal harmonies and everything else in their set unlistenable, including Tunde's on stage banter, which ended up sounding like he was an adult in a Peanuts cartoon.
The Brooklyn crowd seemed to eat it up, but I looked at the people I was at the show with for confirmation and I got it: they couldn't properly hear TVOTR either, and then I got kind of pissed off because there's no damn excuse. This wasn't the Rush show at the First Niagara (which also had deplorable sound), this was TV On The Radio, in Brooklyn, in an opera house within the Brooklyn Academy of Music, and their guitarist Dave Sitek is also their producer. Plus, Phosphorescent, the band that preceded them, sounded extraordinary. I was all smiles during their set; hell, I almost swooned Phosphorescent sounded so beautiful. The headliner TVOTR however sounded like rubbish, and it made me wonder: is their sound guy that big of an ass clown... or is Dave Sitek going deaf?
As you can tell, I was not amused by these events, and yeah, maybe I'm lashing out, but still, come on. The stage was set for something potentially wonderful, and instead we got something woeful, and I have to blame somebody. And for the record, I thoroughly enjoyed Sitek's impeccably produced Maximum Balloon side project... but somebody has to explain to me how a sonically ambitious and complex band like TV On The Radio can sound like Rush at the acoustically challenged FNC... in an opera house no less. It was a crime against art, technology, and my ears, and Dave Sitek's suspect hearing is taking the rap.
When Phosphorescent released “Song for Zula,” the lead single off of his new album Muchacho, back in January, it seemed like Matthew Houck had begun the transition from the grimy, heart-breaking, country anthems of Here’s to Taking it Easy, to an ethereal nether-world where he could lick his wounds and ponder his next move. This transition is made even more apparent now that we have access to all of Muchacho and can see that “Song for Zula” is, indeed, just the first step in Houck’s attempt to reclaim the parts of him seemingly stolen away by world sickness and heartache.
The album begins with a song called “Sun Arise (An Invocation, An Introduction)” and ends with a song called “Sun’s Arising (A Koan, An Exit).” The songs are extremely similar lyrically, both speaking of a “sun a-rising” and brightening Houck’s "dark" surroundings. The songs are also similar musically, with “Sun Arise” containing echoes of the pulsating bass and floating snyths from “Song for Zula;” an immediate prelude to that song’s surreal landscape.
The two “Sun” songs are obviously meant to serve as thematic bookends to the album, with the “Introduction” serving as an “invocation” and the “Exit” serving as a “koan.” An invocation is a summons, most often used in a religious sense. It’s a call, or a prayer, offered up to some higher being, requesting assistance. This makes sense as a way to begin this album as on “Song for Zula” Houck certainly sounds like he needs help. Left weakened and debilitated by love, he seems to be looking for anything to reinvigorate his “wild heart” and his “bones of steel” so he can “kill you with his bare hands once he’s set free.”
The very next song, “Ride On/Right On,” sounds as if it might almost be a prequel to “Song for Zula;” a glimpse into the narrator’s life prior to his heartbroken downfall. Here, Houck is noticeably more upbeat and confidant and the song itself sounds like it was made to “ride” to, with hand-claps and a steady bass line in the front and a non-stop noodling electric guitar in the back seat. The play on words between “ride” and “right” seems to be an indication that “riding on,” or, “moving forward,” and getting “turned right on,” is the “right” thing for Houck to do at this juncture. There’s a willingness here to “go,” somewhere, anywhere, and see what life might have to offer.
On “Terror In The Canyons (The Wounded Master),” however, we get the indication that that urge to “go” might be on the heels of a relationship that’s falling apart. Throughout the song, Houck plays with the idea of trading places between a powerful position and a passive one: “see, I was the wounded master, oh then I was the slave.” Like "Under My Thumb" in reverse, the narrator isn't just losing his grasp on love, he’s going from being its domineer to its subject, which is perhaps a subtle suggestion that the submissive state he finds himself in is somewhat deserved. Houck evinces his awareness of this role reversal through eminently humble lines such as “but you’re telling me my heart’s sick, and I’m telling you I know” and “you’re telling me you’re leaving, and I’m telling you to go.” As a “wounded” former master, Houck apparently at least has the shame to be honest with himself as a newly christened “victim.”
“A Charm/A Blade,” however, appears to present something of a “last straw” situation. Apparently still speaking to the same person who Houck instructed “to go” in the last song, he seems to be looking to make a final break here, singing: “dress me down in a New York crowd, lay me down and bawl me out, tell me everything’s been sold, tell me everything, I’ll go.” We've heard a lot of threats about “going” up until this point but the narrator’s true feelings seem to be betrayed when he pleads: “this can’t be what you want” and then meekly tells his mate to “cut my heart, but do it fast.” In the end “there’s a lot in the way” that’s kept him from leaving, but it seems certain that it’s a foregone conclusion at this point. Whether it’s from a person, or a place, or feeling, sometimes an escape is a necessity.
“Muchacho’s Tune” is the centerpiece of the album and, perhaps, its thematic compass. Houck has made reference to much of the album having been inspired by a trip to Mexico and that’s evident here on this Spanish-titled track and the back half of the album, which skews more toward the sandy drunkenness of "Zula."
Houck begins by referencing Mott the Hoople’s “Roll Away the Stone” seemingly as extremely personal evidence of just how low and nostalgic of a place he has found himself. Fame and fortune have “cauterized his veins” but the focus here is on self-improvement: “fixing himself up to come and be with you." One of the most interesting lines here, however, is a reference to a “whelp without his horns.” In other words: a fawn, or a young man, or, in Spanish, a “muchacho.” It’s a relatively fitting word for a man who’s made some mistakes and is looking to re-invent himself by taking a trip south of the border.
On “A New Anhedonia,” there’s still some work to do on that front, however. Houck calls out to the wind, “o now cousin, hej, what’s happened to me?” before delivering the line: “all of the pleasures now avoiding me, all of the new music now boring to me.” Anhedonia is one of the major symptoms of depression and basically means the “the inability to feel pleasure.” Unfortunately, this “prayer in the wind” to feel something again is only answered by the album’s darkest and strongest song, “Quotidian Beasts.”
The word “quotidian,” though no longer often used, means “every day” or “daily.” The “every day beast” that the narrator is grappling with seems to be some sort of clawed, female, depression-monster whose early-morning arrival is an inevitability. The narrator, at first, seems ready to fight it off, stating: “it’s you that took your claws, you slipped them under my skin, there’s parts that got outside, honey, I want to put them back in.” These “parts” are likely those essential to internal happiness but by the end of the song, with the “beast” back upon him, the narrator is already thinking “it wasn't so bad”: either a resignation or an acceptance, and probably a little of both.
The last proper song on the album is called “Down To Go,” a final ode to the necessity of escapism recalled throughout the album. Here, Houck also delivers a brilliant meta-dialogue that perfectly explains what we've just been listening to: “you say, ‘oh you’ll spin your heartache into gold.’ And I suppose, but it rips my heart out, don’t you know?” The second person is making a statement that’s clear to us at this point: whatever depression, world weariness or heartache Matthew Houck might have felt, he probably wouldn't have been able to make such a gripping, compelling album without it. As he wryly observes, however, if one wants to spin the pain in their heart into gold, they’ll need to remove it from their chest first. Such a level of self-examination has its costs and you’re probably going to see a lot of things you don’t like very much.
The album ends on a hopeful note though: a “koan.” A koan is basically an unsolvable riddle or fable, meant to provoke reflection. (I.e. what is the sound of one hand clapping?) Given the thematic bookends mentioned earlier, it might have been obvious to start with a sunrise and end with a sunset. Instead, the album starts with a sunrise… and ends with a sunrise. Houck's koan seems to ask: if you see the sun rise, then spend a whole day (or album) reflecting on love and life and movement and depression, then see the sun rise again, can you be sure that the sun ever really went down in the mean time?
We've got some impressive releases leading us into the mists this March. Break out the St. Patrick's Day attire and watch the snow melt away while you spin some of these great new records.
10. Suuns - Images Du Futur Montreal quartet Suuns (who were just featured in our first installment of the Festival Bands, Man! series) came together in 2006 when frontman Ben Shemie got together with bassisst Joe Yarmush, to record some beats, which eventually worked their way into songs. Grabbing two new members Liam O’Neill and Max Henry, the group expanded and released their debut record Zeroes QC in 2010. On March 5, Suuns will unveil their anticipated sophomore record Images Du Fur via Secretly Canadian. The first single off the new record “Edie’s Dream” further exhibits the group’s ability at carefully-crafted psychedelic tunes. Listen to “Edie’s Dream” below:
9. Julian Lynch - Lines
Madison, WI PhD candidate and musician Julian Lynch will release his follow-up to last year’s Terra with the LP Lines, due out March 26 via Underwater Peoples. The first single off the record “Carios kelleyi I” follows in Lynch's signature strand of textured, chromatic folk, with cheerful acoustic riffs coated with Lynch's warm hum. Listen to “Carios kelleyi I” below:
8. Chvrches - Recover EP
The title track off Chvrches' new EP wastes no time as lead singer Lauren Mayberry's vocals deliver a shot of adrenaline with a instantly catchy verse leading into an even more enthralling chorus. The Scottish trio will release the EP via Goodbye Records on March 25. Listen to "Recover" below:
7. Marnie Stern - The Chronicles of Marnia
Marnie Stern has been in the news quite a bit in the past few months. First, the New York indie-rocker has aparently started a real contest to win a date with her, and more importantly has shared a few tracks from her forthcoming record The Chronicles of Marnia which is due out March 19. The latest single "Nothing Is Easy" doesn't dissapoint with Stern's catchy whine, and convoluted guitar licks and percussion. Listen to the track here.
6. David Bowie - The Next Day
For the past decade or so, David Bowie has been pretty silent. One minute you're reading a story about how he will never put out another album ever again, then suddenly The Next Day is announced. As confusing as that last sentence is, and as bad as some of Bowie's '00-era records are, it's always exciting when a pop legend decides to come out of an apparent retirement and deliver a new collection of songs. Especially when the legend in question is 66 years old. The Next Day is officially out on March 12 in the US, but it is currently streaming on iTunes. Watch the video for "Where Are We Now?" below:
5. Phosphorescent - Muchacho
Phosphorescent, aka Matt Houck, will release his sixth studio record Muchacho, on March 19 via Dead Oceans. The first cut off the record is called "Song for Zula," a languid, floaty track with spiraling strings complete with an echoed drum loop. The New York via Alabama musician traveled to Mexico early last year after a brief "freak out" in order to find inspiration. When he came back to New York with a clear head, songs for Muchacho poured out. Listen to "Song for Zula" below:
4. Waxahatchee - Cerulean Salt
Waxahatchee is Birmingham native Katie Crutchfield. Still riding off the energy of her debut full-length American Weekend, Crutchfield will release her follow-up Cerulean Salt tomorrow via Don Giovanni Records. Crutchfield thrives on her unique lo-fi stylings, thought-provoking lyricism, and heart-on-sleeve approach to songwriting that goes unrivaled in today's immense DIY folk scene. Listen to the single “Peace and Quiet” off the record below and stream Cerulean Salt in its entirety over at NPR.
3. Rhye - Woman
Rhye’s first single “The Fall,” which came out late last year, was a crisp, androgynous track released by an anonymous group that had the attention of the indie blogosphere pretty fast. The sexy, yet minimal, track was intriguing everyone, and finally Toronto-born Mike Milosh came forward as the lead singer behind the duo. As they release their debut record Woman today, Rhye is entering an exciting time; they're only going to get more popular. Watch the entrancing video for “The Fall” below:
2. The Men - New Moon
The Men have decided to stay the prolific course and will release their fourth record in three years with New Moon on March 5. The record is streaming over at Pitchfork right now and upon first listen it immediately sounds a lot more varied and expansive, still exuding a punk influence, but with country and pop underpinnings. The group has maintained all the songwriting perks of last year’s Open Your Heart, with an array of new instrumentals including mandolin, harmonica, piano, and lap guitar. The record is being released by Sacred Bones. Listen to the single “Electric” below:
1. Youth Lagoon - Wondrous Bughouse
Youth Lagoon aka Trevor Powers’ record The Year of Hibernation was arguably the best debut of 2011, as it scaled a mountainous terrain of lo-fi dream-pop, and perfected the art of the build with tracks like “Montana” and “July” starting with calm synth textures and peaking with Powers’ ethereal croon. While the The Year of Hibernation was recorded in a friend’s garage in a few days, his sophomore album was done in a proper studio with the help of producer Ben H. Allen (Animal Collective, Deerhunter). And while there is a definite improvment in production and style, Powers is still blowing our minds, this time via a diversity of layered instrumentals and reeling psychadelic imagery. Each track takes on it’s own varied form, with emphasis on tempo changes and whimsical lyrical imagery. The album is out tomorrow via Fat Possum, but you can stream the album now over at NPR. Also, be sure to check out our detailed Songbook Report on the album here.
Given that the year is only a few days old I've found that there aren't many new albums I'd like to write about quite yet. In the mean time, listen to this track that Phosphorescent (singer-songwriter Matthew Houck) released back in December in anticipation of his new album, Muchacho, due out in March. The song is called "Song for Zula."
The last original work that Houck released was the 2010 album, Here's to Taking it Easy. That album was musically inspired by 70's country and lyrically inspired by life on the road, failing at relationships, and rather ambivalent feelings toward the city of Los Angeles. The last track on that album, actually called "Los Angeles," was the pinnacle of all three of those themes and saw Houck clawing his way through a heart-breaking country anthem, complete with soaring choral counter-point vocals and an angry overly-long electric guitar solo that might have made Neil Young nod like a proud father. In it, Houck seemingly bid adieu to Los Angeles, to the road, and to love.
Phosphorescent picks up on "Song for Zula" on a completely different planet. Gone is the shambling earthy country-rock of Houck's last two records, replaced by a sound that is distinctly surreal. Between the echoing snares, the meandering synths, and Houck's voice detached from it all, he practically sounds as if he's floating on the brink of existence.
The lyrics begin with an homage to the classic Johnny Cash song, "Ring of Fire," when Houck sings: "Some say love is a burning thing/ that it makes a fiery ring/ oh but I know love as a fading being/ just as fickle as a feather in a stream." The melody has a sound that is timeless and implacable, falling somewhere between Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" and the aforementioned "Ring of Fire" without ever actually becoming either of those songs.
Houck goes on to detail his thoughts about love in a way that not only suggests he's disenchanted with it or discouraged by it, but that he respects it and fears it as a power that brings men to their knees, saps them of their strength, and leaves them, evidently, nothing more than hollow husks floating in the ether. See: "Yeah and then I saw love/ disfigure me/ into something I am not recognizing" and "You see the cage, it called/ I said 'come on in'/ I will not open myself up this way again."
Houck repeats the homage to "Ring of Fire" again on the final verse before switching the punchline to "oh but I know love/ as a caging being/ just a killer come to call from some awful dream." Despite the pacific sound of the song, the narrator doesn't seem content to allow love to conquer him. ("I will not lay like this for days now upon end." "See honey, I am not some broken thing/ I do not lay here in the dark waiting for thee.")
The song ends, however, with the revelation that, despite Houck's efforts to throw off the debilitating effects of love, he isn't exactly unshackled yet:
"Ah and all you folks, you come to see/ you just stand there in the glass looking at me/ but my heart is wild and my bones are steel/ and I could kill you with my bare hands if I was free."
Like an animal in captivity, once love has you, it probably isn't very likely to let you go without a fight.
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