| Imagine that you are lost in the woods, somewhere in the northern 
                  portion of our country. It's a little chilly and amazingly dark 
                  as you wander through the collection of pine trees. All that 
                  you have on your person is a bottle of whskey. Night birds like 
                  owls and whipoorwills call out around you, but there is ... 
                  something else. Something large is rumbling around out there, 
                  quite likely a bear. And the bottle of whiskey is getting more 
                  and more empty.... There is a level of rural loneliness and paranoia portrayed 
                  in such a scene. And that's as close as i can get to the claustrophobic 
                  non-urbaness of Songs: Ohia. This music is the antithesis of 
                  hip-hop: it speaks of the wide open places, and being away from 
                  the maddening press of millions of your close city mates. Being 
                  alone in the woods gives one a feeling of freedom at being far 
                  away from everyone else, but there is also a little bit of fear 
                  knowing that the closest living thing your size might consider 
                  you a meal. I get such a feeling listening to Ghost Tropic. 
                  The loneliness washes over me with each lightly strummed guitar 
                  note, and the paranoia hovers in the air with every lingering 
                  piano note. I find the overall effect exceedingly beautiful, but i can 
                  see how some people would not be so amused. I had the CD in 
                  rotation when i had The Minions over for my non-Christmas Party, 
                  and about three minutes in someone said "Can we listen to something 
                  a little less depressing?" Sigh. So it's not the happiest album. The mood it portrays so well 
                  is a little down. But there is a place for such things. Like the first time i listened to this CD. I had planned to 
                  have it on in the background as i sat on the couch and read 
                  a cheesey sci-fi novel. I was tired after a restless night, 
                  lying on the couch on a grey day with my cat purring loudly 
                  in my lap. I sat the book down and just lay there, watching 
                  the naked tree limbs sway in the wind against the cold colorless 
                  Decemeber sky. Swaying, seemingly in time to the light swaying 
                  of Jason Molina's voice. The music absorbed my attention, and 
                  for a moment, life was perfect. That's some powerful stuff. It lends itself to serious listening. The music itself is quite interesting even beyond the mood 
                  that it paints so well. It's kind of minimalistic. Strummed 
                  acoustic guitar. Occasional piano notes that linger in the air 
                  in front of the guitars for several seconds at a stretch. Drums 
                  that mercilessly plod through the rhythm of the song. Mournful 
                  bass notes. And of course, slide guitar played so soulfully! And then there's the voice. Molina (the mastermind behind Songs: 
                  Ohia) uses his singing sparingly, preferring to let the guitar 
                  and piano do the bulk of the work on this album. But when he 
                  sings, he brings everything together into a shining moment of 
                  crystal clarity. His voice is so unique: it wavers, but not 
                  like tremolo. Not like he isn't successfully holding the notes, 
                  but more like the notes are so strong that his voice can't hold 
                  them still for long. In a way, he reminds me of Billy Bragg 
                  in his softer moments, or Will Oldham in his busier moments. 
                  It's different than either, but the emotionality that those 
                  two express might give you some idea of what i'm talking about. The voice and instrumentation flow in and around each other, 
                  with occasional bird sounds as well, to paint the scene i described 
                  above. I am really impressed with this CD. It blows me away. 
                  However, i can see how a lot of people would be turned off by 
                  it's slow pace and melancholy rhythms. Therefore, only 6 sponges. 
                  However, if you want an album of subtle beauty that challenges 
                  you just a little bit, then i strongly urge this release. |