Lists are tough, especially when the list is basically saying, \”Here is the music that makes up who I am.\” It\’s like you\’re distilling yourself (which is impossible) into 14 albums (which is restrictive, and impossible).
I\’m sucking it up, though. I had a lot of albums that probably \”should\’ve\” been on this list, but while \”Nevermind\” blew me away the first time I heard it, and \”Daydream Nation\” still makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck, I had to find a rubric other than \”these albums are really cool.\”
So, no, I didn\’t include \”Nevermind\” or \”In Utero.\” I didn\’t include \”Slanted and Enchanted\” or even \”The Unforgettable Fire\” or \”The Joshua Tree.\” I didn\’t even include \”OK Computer,\” for goodness sake. I mean, what kind of list is this, anyway?
I tried to include the albums that were not only seminal in their own right, but were also somehow seminal to ME. Yes, \”Nevermind\” blew my mind, but when I hear it today I\’m not whisked back to a moment. Before I jump into this album, however, I will list a few \”Honorable Mentions\” that would\’ve made the list if it were longer:
- Temple of the Dog — S/T
- U2 — \”The Joshua Tree\”
- Death Cab for Cutie — \”Transatlanticism\”
- The New Pornographers — \”Twin Cinema\”
- Rufus Wainwright — \”Want\”
Now that we\’ve dispensed with that interminable introduction, I present the album that edged its way past all those nostalgic postmarks. Big Thief have become one of my totem artists. Adrienne Lenker and Buck Meek craft gorgeous, lyrical songs that have a lived-in ease about them — like a pair of jeans you\’ve worn for years — but can also cut you to the bone.
And while I find each one of their albums just as good if not better than the last, it was \”Masterpiece\” that I fell in love with instantly, the one that forever stamped them on my heart.
The album opens with \”Little Arrow,\” a slow, scratchy, haunting acoustic guitar ballad in which Lenker seems to be watching old movie reels of a past life, memories buried somewhere and then brought to light projected on a wall. It\’s an eerie opening to the album, but then Lenker\’s personal history is a strange one.
She was born into a cult, for one thing, and then, at the age of five, a railroad spike fell from a treehouse and hit her in the head, nearly killing her. Her family spent several rough years wrenching themselves from their religion, and yet somehow by the age of 13 she was on her way to becoming a pop star, but ultimately walked away from that path. It must\’ve been a disorienting way to live, but her ability to capture all the turmoil and confusion and beauty of it all in her songs is a wonder to behold.
Like the unmarked family photo that comprises the album cover, \”Masterpiece\” feels like a musical photo album, with songs that capture people, places and moments. \”Lorraine\” is the steamy memory of a lover with \”burning hands;\” in \”Paul,\” a narrator recalls the exciting but dangerous relationship she had to leave; and \”Randy\” seems to have a narrator suffering from Alzheimer\’s? madness? as she talks to someone who may or may not be there.
Even when the stories are poignant or sad, Lenker seems to be able to summon a sweetness and humanity in her songs that draws me in. \”Masterpiece,\” my favorite song on the record, is muscular folk-rock tune that seems to tell the story about an older couple reminiscing about their years together, strolling through the past together from place to place.
But everything on this record is not filled with sweetness. \”Real Love,\” another powerful standout, declares simply, \”Having your face hit/ Having your lips split/ By the one who loves you/ Real love, real love, real love makes your lungs black/ Real love is a heart attack.\”
Lenker has yet to turn 30, but she\’s lived much longer than her years suggest. It\’s an audacious thing to call your first album \”Masterpiece,\” but in my opinion, the title is well-earned.