Livingstone Bramble

So. As previously mentioned, Mark Kozelek has a new album, his second collaboration with Desertshore. And there's more than one song named after a boxer—a Kozelek trademark—but unlike "Tavoris Cloud," this one, with lyrics perhaps nearly as autobiographical, isn't heartbreaking. Rather, it's maybe the best smack-talking song ever about the pantheon of great guitarists. (Admittedly, there isn't a whole lot of competition.) I mean, how can you beat:

I can play like Fripp or Johnny Marr 
And I can play circles 'round Jay Farrar
I like Jeff Beck and Page just fine
But I hate Derek Trucks and Nels Cline
I hate Nels Cline

followed by a parody of Cline's trademark wiggity-wiggity-woo. (Of which I'm very much a fan, incidentally.)





(I love the idea of Jay Farrar looking up and saying, in a McNutty voice, "what'd I do?!")

But is Kozelek done? Not even close. He hasn't gone after the big daddy yet.

I can play like Malcolm and Neil Young 
And I can play circles 'round most anyone
I like Kirk Hammett and Steve Vai 
But I hate Eric Clapton and Nels Cline
I hate Nels Cline

Listen, I love Mark Kozelek, and although he mainly plays nylon-string acoustic these days, he is indeed one hell of an electric guitarist. But Eric Clapton, now...now you're playing with fire. And if you're gonna come at the king, you best not...ah, the hell with it. Slowhand's a big boy and Kozelek's laconic rumble gives the impression of either utter assurance that his absurd assertions are indisputable or he's taking the piss and doesn't really care much that you know it's not true and at the end of the day the point is that this is awesome.

Tavoris Cloud

So Mark Kozelek has a new album. Not a huge surprise—after all, it'd been several months since his previous release. Once again, it's a collaboration, and once again, it's with Desertshore, a band led by former Red House Painters guitarist Phil Carney. And, once again, it's great. Once again, many of his lyrics sound like a combination of stream of consciousness and him simply singing his diary yet somehow making it rhyme and scan.

But in the case of "Tavoris Cloud"—yes, yet another Kozelek song named after a boxer—that just makes it all the more powerful, as he reflects upon the death of his kitten, the improbable late career success of Bernard Hopkins, the death of his friend and contemporary Tim Mooney and, of course, his life.

I miss my afternoon naps, my kittycat sleeping on my lap
She died August 2011, just got back from Norway, she slipped off to kitty heaven
Last night I had to laugh out loud when Hopkins beat Tavoris Cloud 
At the age of 48 no fighter ever was that great

2012 last July every night for a week I cried and cried
When I got the news that my old friend Tim Mooney died
My heart dropped dead and my head spun thinking about the times when we were younger
And how my band looked up to Tim and all the guys who played with him 
Sometimes I still cannot believe Tim Mooney died at 53
He seemed much stronger, he was too young to up and leave

And at the age of 46 I'm still one fucked up little kid
Who has my fears and has my doubts
Who has my challenges and bouts
And though I moved out here I know I'm still that kid from Ohio
Still has hopes, still has dreams, still  has not learned a fucking thing
And though I moved out here I know I'm still that kid from Ohio
Who's living in a world that I'm still getting to know

Testify, brother. No one ever told me that you lose your hair and you get a paunch and a bad back but inside you still feel like a stupid kid. Why don't they warn you about that?