In a recent Uncut interview, Mark Kozelek was asked which record he was most proud of. His answer: 2010's Admiral Fell Promises, hands down. "Bury me with that one. That album is me at my best, my most focused. It's cohesive, beautiful." Long-time listeners can appreciate what he means in the wake of Admiral Fell Promises' intense, classical-guitar driven lyricism. That album may be the epitome of his signature prose and patient playing as a purely solo enterprise.
In stark contrast, Sun Kil Moon's fifth proper album, Among the Leaves, is a palette cleanser of sorts, and Kozelek has admitted as much. "My old approach sort of died, at least for the time being. I was probably working on a song and realised I'd already written it 100 times. I've done the romantic approach to death and wanted to have a laugh this time." Loose, autobiographical, and, yes, funny, Among the Leaves is easily the most off-the-cuff recording of the singer-songwriter's career. Where AFP was laced with classical embellishments and painstakingly poetic details, this record is direct and decidedly unlabored. Kozelek recorded many of the tracks in just a take or two, and the result is unadorned and engaging. Listeners have never been so welcome to inspect the artist's life as artist, with all of its glories, struggles, meaning, and mundanity.
Kozelek shares intimate experiences from life on tour and life at home in San Francisco. On the road, he sings about back-stage hook-ups, back pains, and crushing homesickness. At home, he recounts his past lovers (leaving him for riches or worse), his love of cats, and his sometimes painful relationship with writing songs. His honesty is arresting, even for his cult of followers.
His biting humor is also apparent. He titles songs such as "I Know It's Pathetic But That Was The Greatest Night of My Life," or the aptly autobiographical "The Moderately Talented Yet Attractive Young Woman vs. The Exceptionally Talented Yet Not So Attractive Middle Aged Man." In "Lonely Mountain," he reminds a friend jealous of the singer's relative freedom that "nothing came by luck / your Dad paid for your college / my Dad gave me five bucks." In "Track No. 8," he recounts the difficulities of being on the road: "You get on this plane / I'll sit at your desk / and I'll leave at eight and be home by five / call me from Warsaw if you have time." This theme of dislocation weaves its way throughout the record. In "UK Blues," he deals with being down during a European tour with numerous funny asides: "Denmark, Denmark / everyone rides bikes / everyone is white." And on his return home, while standing on the street in front of Lincoln Hall in Chicago, he remembers heady days long since gone: "My band played here a lot / in the nineties when we had / lots of female fans / and f--- they all were cute / now I just sign posters / for guys in tennis shoes."
But there is still some vintage Kozelek, too. In "The Winery," an exquisite tale of coping with a former girlfriend leaving him for a rich man, his poetic contrasts are striking, the transitions of the song sublime. It is a master-class in traditional songwriting, and even includes some of his well-known boxing allusions. In a closing nod to the riches unearthed throughout the 17 tracks on Among the Leaves, it is a song well worth considering here, in the same format of the prose provided in the liner notes.
you moved up near the winery i'm down by the oil refinery you left my rags for his riches left a note best wishes our cats still go out at night coolin' in the moonlight and the lights of martinez scatter on the carquinez i play guitar 'til morning light alone with it i've built my life met some lovers through my skills some have lasted others just fill time remembering you there with me taking walks along the sea years fly by cursing us all end of summer end of fall winter spring listening to almeida play pavane for a dead princess tarrega and albeniz and his own discantus santos vs benitez espada vs quevas ray leonard vs duran no mas no mas my tv glows my ceiling fan hums iron mike broke bones julian bream played the chaconne bobby fischer took rooks smokin' joe threw hooks roburt burns wrote poems ed gein dug up bones martin luther had a dream you never did anything you're up there in the vineyards using some pretty words eat at french laundry burnin' through money and i'm here eatin' pistachio nuts over by the taco truck scribblin' words on receipts just get stuck in repeat i walk along the service stops and the antique shops come home in the evening hear the dogs howlin'
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