Rave On, by M. Ward
February 1st, 2012 | Filed under: Music | Add a Comment »Rave On, by M. Ward makes me happy.
Rave On, by M. Ward makes me happy.
…that I would like to make it very difficult for you not to listen to Give Us Rest, by David Crowder Band.
So here it is. Just hit play.
Crowder’s new and final album, Give Us Rest, is topping charts. Not just Christian charts, mind you, but Billboard’s 200.
Give Us Rest (A Requiem Mass in C [The Happiest of All Keys]) sold over 50,000 copies in its first week making it the No. 2 record in the country behind Adele’s 21, and the No. 1 new album on the charts. With a nearly constant No. 1 hold on the iTunes® Overall Albums chart, Give Us Rest offers David Crowder*Band the highest chart and sales debut of their over decade long career.
Good work, boys.
Warning: listening to I Am A Seed, by David Crowder Band, may incite excessive toe-tapping and other side-effects including happiness and hope.
My world is happy. Introducing Give Us Rest (Or a Requiem Mass in C [The Happiest of All Keys]), by David Crowder* Band.
(Although they did kinda phone in the album art — especially the typography.)
Thanks, Gabe Dixon Band.
An instant rock opera:
Fin.

Really thoughtful stuff from Fleet Foxes, whose amazing album Helplessness Blues I’ve been listening to online for months and was just given for Christmas. These lyrics from their title track are worth reproducing in their entirety. This has a lot to do with what’s running through my head these days:
I was raised up believing I was somehow unique
Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see
And now after some thinking, I’d say I’d rather be
A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me
But I don’t, I don’t know what that will be
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see
What’s my name, what’s my station, oh, just tell me what I should do
I don’t need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you
Or bow down and be grateful and say “sure, take all that you see”
To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me
And I don’t, I don’t know who to believe
I’ll get back to you someday soon you will see
If I know only one thing, it’s that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I’m tongue-tied and dizzy and I can’t keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?
And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf
I’ll come back to you someday soon myself
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m raw
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
And you would wait tables and soon run the store
Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
If I had an orchard, I’d work till I’m sore
Someday I’ll be like the man on the screen
If you had only these three to pick from, which of the following epic songs would you have played at your funeral?
I think this says a lot about a person. I have no idea what, but whatever it is, it’s probably really important.
(PS — I’d have to go with Plainsong.)
The soundtrack for the road trip in my head. (Just five albums on shuffle: no careful curation at work.)
[Edit: Okay, just go ahead and throw Mylo Xyloto in there for good measure. If the rest of this playlist is driving along empty roads, MX is passing through cities. Still part of the trip.]