i heart darwin

There’s just something about this time of the year – New Year, I mean. It’s already half-way through January and I’ve still got that endless-possibility look about me in the mornings – that idea that it’s Blank Page Time, Square One Hour. I’ll be lying if I said I didn’t form this opinion until Chris tweeted about it, but it’s true – this, second only to those crisp Autumn Saturday afternoons in May, is my favourite time of the year. I feel newer. And older. And shinier.

It’s the fact that this atmosphere that January fills me with (let’s call it ‘freshativity’) is so specific and unique that makes me think of how certain things I come across (specifically music) can remind me of equally distinct periods in my past. Be warned, the next examples do reveal my horrific taste in music when I was younger.

Old Linkin Park albums (like Hybrid Theory and Meteora) take me straight back to my geeky, loner days in Grade 7. Crunchy guitar and not-so-hardcore-anymore screamo moments made me feel appropriate amounts of antiestablishment-ness. Fall Out Boy’s Under the Cork Tree record, however, conjures up a slightly less lonely, slight more punky Judy. I totally killed this one, and it will forever remind me of how I spent the whole winter smitten with a guy who ended up breaking my poor teenybopper heart. Aww! Oh well. I guess Fall Out Boy’s mostly indeterminable drone-like lyrics and sore excuse for a bassist (let alone person-in-general) were a perfect fit for the clearly disillusioned child I was back then. Other albums include The Arrows EP, Relient K’s MmHmm, John Mayer’s Room for Squares, Regina Spektor’s Far, Harris Tweed’s The Younger and (duh) Sara Barellies’ Little Voice.

So considering that moments of my life are marked by artists (or so it seems), I have an urge to define my January 2011 Freshitivity Official Album, and it is – it is - the self-titled record of the new-to-me-fabulous Darwin Deez.

I’ll admit I might be jumping on the indie-folk bandwagon here, but I’m convinced that it’s more than just the avante-garde that makes me want to take this LP out to a nice dinner-and-a-movie with scrumptiously evil ulterior motives. This is my kill-album of the week, my I’ve-only-had-this-album-for-four-days-and-I’ve-played-it-fifteen-times kill-album of the week. An explanation:

It’s awesome. Darwin Deez may take some getting used to, but you have to believe me and wait it out. I recommend a full listen-through at least 3 times before you make any kind of decision about him, because my first impression was not the gushing I so freely pour forth today, oh no. I thought it was drone-like, that his voice lacked any expression, that the similarity of the electric guitar sounds in every song was due to laziness and that (for goodness sake) if you’re going to sell an album, do not put that guy’s face on the cover (moustaches… ew). But you see, that’s all changed.

Each of the ten tracks on the album (plus two bonus songs) are equally distinctive in both lyrical content and composition. The simplicity is intriguing – there are blank spaces everywhere, often just lines with net vocals (and who has the guts to do that these days?). The ideas behind the numbers slowly flesh out the more you listen, and leave me with a feeling that Deez knows how to put a conflicting emotions into songs with an ease that simultaneously frightens and delights me. “Deep Sea Divers” uses a haunting metaphor of scuba-diving to express how it’s complicated when you love someone and they’re just sad all the time, and “DNA” uses a double helix to describe the humiliation of realising you’re not loved anymore. “Up in the Clouds” and “Bed Space” also talk about lost love, but I’ve never got the feeling that this is a mellow or emo album at all – “The Suicide Song” (from the window ledge I fall / watch my necktie whip back in the wind / from the top of an office building / I can’ t even see why I should live) is one of the most upbeat, vibe-y recordings on the whole CD. Deez changes it up in a way that lets me listen and have fun, or look up lyrics and feel melancholy. It’s the choice that makes it cool, that makes it awesome.

My personal favourite on the whole album (which was 99.8% influenced by this – seriously, click the link, you need to) is “Bad Day”. And if you haven’t clicked that link already, you’d better do it now, because that is justification enough, and I won’t give you the satisfaction of a written explanation just to save you 5 minutes and possibly let you make the saddest missed opportunity of your week.

So go get it. Try it out. It’s not up on iTunes yet, but it’s here and here. And his cute site is here. Let me know what you think, but at least give Deez the time and opportunity he deserves first – the opportunity to become on of your favourites ;)

P.S. All credit to Dave (who is awesome) for the introduction. High 5!