The Mountain Goats Albums (15)
'Life of the World to Come'
Release Date 10/6/2009
Tracks 12
Label 4AD
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The Mountain Goats are, for all practical purposes, the endlessly clever and prolific John Darnielle and whatever musicians he surrounds himself with, which means that while the soundscape may change from project to project, the overall tone and feel of Darnielle's work remains remarkably consistent, an impressive achievement, really, since The Life of the World to Come is his umpteenth album (his 16th, actually, and his sixth for 4AD), and if an album where every track is named after a Bible verse looks like it's going to be a radical departure for Darnielle, rest assured, it isn't. This isn't some praise & worship affair, but is instead a considered treatise on the use and meaning of faith in our lives, and it's a theme Darnielle has visited frequently in his past work, and it isn't the first time he's used Bible verses to provide narrative structure to a song, either. He's always done that here and there on his projects, but this is the first time a whole album from him has used Bible verses as an over-arching scheme. Other than that, The Life of the World to Come is business as usual, with Darnielle musing on the need to believe and keep faith in something as the pressures, horrors, and oddities of life in the 21st century flash by at the speed of a keypad. There is a downcast and deeply meditative mood to this album, though, and the arrangements feature more piano than guitar (and plenty of violin arrangements from Owen Pallett), but Darnielle's fans don't need to worry here. He's still writing finely observed vignettes that manage to intersect life as we live it with life as we wish we could live it, and as such, he has more in common with a short story writer than he does with the typical singer/songwriter. What Darnielle has discovered, though, is that faith has its twin opposite, and it's called doubt, and the dark, uncertain path between the two is where most of our lives are led. This isn't a religious album in any normal sense of the word -- Darnielle certainly isn't preaching here or trying to point anyone to Heaven or any other place -- but it is a deeply spiritual one, and if it's a more muted affair than the last couple of albums, it doesn't really stand out of phase from them. By the end of the sequence (and Darnielle saves the darkest track, "Ezekiel 7 and the Permanent Efficacy of Grace," a song about a drug-addicted murderer driving to Mexico for last), one is sort of wishing he'd lighten up a bit, though. When faith works, it leads to resolution, contentment, and joy, after all. Maybe that's the theme for the next album. ~ Steve Leggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
The Mountain Goats are, for all practical purposes, the endlessly clever and prolific John Darnielle and whatever musicians he surrounds himself with, which means that while the soundscape may change from project to project, the overall tone and feel of Darnielle's work remains remarkably consistent, an impressive achievement, really, since Heretic Pride is his umpteenth album (and fourth for 4AD), and, as luck would have it, one of his most finely balanced ones at that. Darnielle at his best writes finely observed, slightly surreal, impressionistic vignettes that manage to mix life as we live it with life as we wish we could live it, and as such he has more in common with a short story writer than he does with the typical singer/songwriter. At his worst, he sounds glib, wordy, over wrought and ultimately unbelievable. Thankfully there is little of that kind of sputtering here, and Heretic Pride is almost perfectly structured, leading off with the shuffling "Sax Rohmer, Pt. 1," following it with the lovely, string-drenched "San Bernardino," and then skips off into Mountain Goat land, a world where the normal collides with the extraordinary, often within a line or two. Other highlights here include the beautiful "Tianchi Lake," which uses the simple act of swimming as a metaphor for so much more, and the odd, lysergic "Lovecraft in Brooklyn," which feels like the screenplay for a campy B movie monster flick given musical form, only, of course, it might be something else entirely. Darnielle can sometimes be too clever, loading in more than a song can bear, but he keeps that tendency in check for the most part on Heretic Pride, and the result is a wonderfully accessible and varied album that hits all the right buttons at all the right times. ~ Steve Leggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Coming off of the two strongest, most fully realized -- and most harrowing -- albums of his career, in particular The Sunset Tree, which helped bring him to the attention of a larger audience, John Darnielle (who's somewhat better known as the Mountain Goats) took something of a career digression with a record that, while retaining the production clarity and expanded instrumental palette of his 4AD output to date, marked a clear withdrawal, if not in quality, certainly in scope, from its phenomenal predecessors. Thematically at least, Get Lonely is the sparest, bleakest record in the Mountain Goats' discography. Much was made of the unprecedentedly autobiographical content of The Sunset Tree and We Shall All Be Healed, and it is true that they conveyed a sustained emotional potency that was largely new to Darnielle's repertory, but both contained so many lyrical loose ends, disjointed perspectives, and ambiguous imagery that it was difficult if not impossible to glean any consistent context in them, let alone a coherent through-line. Get Lonely, on the other hand, is practically monotonous in its lyrical focus. Every one of its songs features a first-person narrator in a state of desolation, near-desperation, solitude (always), and grappling, more or less explicitly, with the psychic effects of recent loss: extreme listlessness, emotional paralysis, intermittent attempts at deterministic redirection; nightmarish delirium. In most of them, almost nothing happens; the plot of "Wild Sage" consists of its protagonist leaving the house, walking outside, falling down by the side of the highway, and lying there. Sometimes he can't even leave the house. It's a break-up album -- an almost uncharacteristically straightforward conceit for Darnielle -- the chronicle of a person dealing (or attempting to deal, at least on his best days) with loneliness, grief, and the pangs of memory. Whether or not it's a literal chronicle of a period in Darnielle's life (he had, at the time of its release, been married for many years) is irrelevant; forgiving a slight turn for the phantasmagoric towards the end of the album (before its ultimate, resigned submersion into the Atlantic in the graceful, serene "In Corolla,"). It's hard to deny the fundamental, emotional truth contained in these songs, especially as it's conveyed in his uninflected, almost painfully restrained delivery. It's not all unrelentingly somber -- "Half Dead" and "Woke Up New" strive for a sort of resolute pragmatism, with musical backing that could almost be described as sprightly, though their plain and plaintive lyrics ultimately belie their hummable ditty-like choruses. And the churning, jazzy percussion of "New Monster Avenue" and brass band swagger of "If You See Light" provide welcome instrumental relief that befits their fanciful, imagistic lyrical tone. But these are almost necessary respites, since at its darkest and starkest, which is much of the time -- particularly on the central quartet of the shell-shocked title track, the spirit-haunted "Maybe Sprout Wings," the hallucinatory "Moon Over Goldsboro," and the agitated "In the Hidden Places," Get Lonely is nothing short of devastating. These songs may be primarily built around uncomplicated acoustic guitar parts (with judicious instrumental embellishments), but they're a far cry from the rudimentary lo-fi zeal and nervous energy of Darnielle's early years -- he's become significantly more sophisticated since then, as a composer, a writer, and an observer of the human condition, and this is in many ways his most mature work to date. ~ K. Ross Hoffman, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
John Darnielle is a compulsive writer forever clutching his stomach as songs pour out uncontrollably into whatever recording device is in front of him. What sets him apart from other prolific artists in the indie rock world (Conor Oberst, Ryan Adams, Stephin Merritt) whose records and side projects can't keep up with the flow of their pens is his almost alarming gift for pairing quantity with quality. After dropping the devastating Tallahassee -- a record that followed in gory detail the imagined demise of a Florida couple's marriage -- in 2002, he turned his focus inward, taking an almost autobiographical stance on the follow-up, We Shall All Be Healed, a framework that is applied tenfold on the riveting The Sunset Tree. This is John Cougar Mellencamp's Scarecrow if it were set in southern California and narrated by Charles Bukowski. At the center is Darnielle's abusive stepfather, who slyly receives the album's dedication. He's a drunk, a misguided disciplinarian, and a lousy role model for the young artist who plies away his days in a haze of liquor-fueled misogyny, wistful romanticism, and good old-fashioned teen angst, always aware that each night will end in violence. Darnielle's talent for writing an engaging narrative is matched only by the succinctness of the music behind it. This is especially true on standout cuts like "This Year," a near-perfect snapshot of youthful defiance with its rousing, last-road-trip-ever refrain of "I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me," and "Lion's Teeth," an uncomfortable moment of clarity that looks rage in both eyes without flinching, using a string-laden backbeat to up the suspense. Despite The Sunset Tree's white-knuckle subject matter and salt-in-the-wound imagery, it's surprisingly accessible. It's a gloves-off catharsis occurring in real time for the gifted singer/songwriter, and it leaves a mark on the listener as well. ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
If possible, the Mountain Goats' We Shall All Be Healed is an even bigger, lusher-sounding work than Tallahassee, the group's 4AD debut and the debut of their more polished production style. Whether or not this approach is somehow less authentic or more invasive than the ultra lo-fi sound of John Darnielle and company's earlier albums is up for debate, but, as with Tallahassee, it's a choice that works well for this particular set of songs. In fact, the lush strings and pianos that grace the album only make Darnielle's relentlessly strummed guitars and unadorned vocals sound even more strikingly plain. On Tallahassee, the Mountain Goats used their newfound polish to emphasize the album's decaying Southern gothic romance; We Shall All Be Healed sounds bright and crisp, burning with righteous anger that is fueled by Darnielle's sardonic humor. Beginning with "Slow West Vultures"' rapid-fire acoustic guitars and snippets of forced laughter and shattering glass, the album makes full use of its widescreen production; "Linda Blair Was Born Innocent" is searching and sad, using touches of Americana without sounding hidebound to that sound. As with all of his Mountain Goats work, We Shall All Be Healed has a passion lacking in a lot of music that is much louder. Darnielle's high, insistent voice, punctuated by his relentless strumming, is particularly intense on the talky, funny "Palmcorder Yajna." The oddly rousing "The Young Thousands" manages to be atmospheric and direct at the same time, and on "Home Again Garden Grove" Darnielle sounds like a veteran returning home. The album's softer songs retain that intensity: "All Up the Seething Coast" is quiet and mostly spoken word, but it recalls the calm before the storm more than the coffeehouse. "Cotton" is a sad and lovely song "for the people who tell their families they're sorry for things that they can't and won't be sorry for," and the cryptically lovely "Your Belgian Things" allows the listener to piece together a tumultuous story from Darnielle's recollections: "I can see you in my sleep/Playing the points for all you're worth/Walking gingerly across/The bruised earth." As musically and lyrically accomplished as We Shall All Be Healed is, it's not quite as gripping or rich as the best of the Mountain Goats' earlier work or Tallahassee, but that's relative; on its own terms, the album is still profoundly smart and profoundly emotional. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
'Bitter Melon Farm'
Release Date 4/23/2002
Tracks 27
Label 3 Beads of Sweat
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The second in the compilation series of compilation, singles, and tape-only efforts by John Darnielle and associated others, Bitter Melon Farm is a dream of a release, like its predecessor, Protein Source of the Future, almost effortlessly showing Darnielle's talent and his songs' worth. As with the first, the liner notes are as entertaining and thoughtful as the tunes themselves (his Spandau Ballet fetish continues, said band being mentioned not once but twice, the second time being his thought that the Transmissions to Horace tape should have just been a dubbed copy of True). Darnielle and acoustic guitar once more dominate the proceedings, and his ear for finding many attractive variations on that approach remains clear; consider the near-whine over the brisk run of "Against Agamemnon" versus the reflective, soft melancholy and remembrance of "Snow Song" and the soaring chorus on "Pure Intentions." Transmissions to Horace itself takes up ten songs out of 27 on the collection, and while Darnielle is a bit embarrassed over the praise that tape has received, it is a fine listen, topped off with a warm, lovely cover of the Commodores' "Sail On." Another cover concludes Bitter Melon Farm, a revamp of Ace of Base's early-'90s confection "The Sign" that helps demonstrate once again that those who scoff at songs for succeeding commercially could easily miss out on some beautiful art. More winners from the liner notes: talking about his first single, "Songs for Petronius": "I am aware of a few people who think this is as close to perfection as I've come. These are the same people who think that Suede was possibly the greatest band in the world when they were just playing in small clubs around London but became the worst band in the world as soon as they released their first single." ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
'Protein Source of the Future...Now!'
Release Date 4/23/2002
Tracks 23
Label 3 Beads of Sweat
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The first of three compilations drawing together compilation appearances, singles, and tape-only efforts from throughout the '90s, Protein Source of the Future...Now! may be designed for fans first and foremost, but also serves as a fine introduction to Darnielle's world of knowledge, wit, emotion, and musical range. His liner notes are not only entertaining reading, but a statement of purpose. Rather than organizing this effort and its subsequent follow-ups chronologically, he preferred to assemble his archive "as though it'd just been found among a bunch of tapes in an airtight container buried in the snow." With 23 songs in 50 minutes, the collection is testimony to both Darnielle's ear for economy in his songs and his belief that lyrics and music are fully complementary. Beginning with the brisk "Going to Tennessee" -- which kicks off with talk of a Darnielle obsession, namely the start of baseball season -- Protein Source covers a lot of ground with style. Nearly everything is just Darnielle and acoustic guitar, but anyone who has seen him perform that way knows that's often all he needs. That said, the combination of soft-drone keyboard and punchy drum machine backing him on "Going to Malibu" and the high, sweet synth melody of "Pure Honey" makes for some brilliant, heartfelt performances. The differences in recording often provide interesting contrasts; compare "The Window Song," with Darnielle in slightly higher voice with Bright Mountain Choir backing, and the rougher, strained delivery of "Seed Song." Other worthies: the near-T. Rex chug of "Third Snow Song" (brilliant line: "I can feel the cold air coming in through my teeth") and the affecting melancholy of "Duke Ellington." Killer bit in the song descriptions: "Is there any sacrifice I would not make to hear Spandau Ballet doing 'Billy the Kid's Dream of the Magic Shoes'?" No. No, there is not." ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
'All Hail West Texas'
Release Date 2/19/2002
Tracks 14
Label Emperor Jones
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Complex, awe-inspiring, and fresh with fretwork excitement, John Darnielle steps up to the mike with guitar in hand, revealing sentimental and emotionally charged acoustic gems. Leader of the Mountain Goats, Darnielle doesn't hide any sense of creativity while composing the material for this record. All Hail West Texas has juicy bits and pieces of melodic tapestry, with a forceful percussive background statement keeping the music afloat. Perhaps what most often reveal themselves during this lush and stylistically complex endeavor are the mature and naturally contemplative lyrics that Darnielle has been able to put together into his songs. Highlights such as "Riches and Wonders" and "Distant Stations" jump at the chance to grab the listener. Other tunes that break through indie-level barriers are the eclectic "Fall of the Star High School Running Back" and the original "Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton." The textured feel of the variety of sounds and notes created by the Mountain Goats is appealing and gripping, a foray into sounds chilling and pristine. The delivery of the lyrics is wondrous and breathtaking during certain moments. The band's instrumental ability possesses dexterous flair, and the result is the charm of the record's immediacy and absorbing emotional impact. The tragic weakness of All Hail West Texas is perhaps its need for persistent listening in order to understand the direction of the music. However, maybe that just proves to be the magic key, and the route to further appreciation of this particular period of the Mountain Goats' music. ~ Shawn M. Haney, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On Tallahassee, the Mountain Goats' 4AD debut, John Darnielle strips his music of the tape hiss that surrounded his previous work like a security blanket made of static, opting for a clean sound that emphasizes the album's sometimes stinging, sometimes sublimely beautiful words and melodies -- call it spite and polish. Though the lo-fi soulfulness that gave his songs an extra, homemade charm before is missed, it wouldn't have fit the ambitious tale he sets out to tell here: the album revolves around a troubled husband and wife who move to Tallahassee to run away from themselves and, ultimately, drink themselves to death. Darnielle has written about this couple before, but Tallahassee takes their relationship -- and his songwriting -- to a new level of vulnerability and intensity. Even among albums chronicling difficult and dying relationships, such as Blood on the Tracks, Shoot Out the Lights, and, more recently, Sea Change, Tallahassee takes a unique approach. Far from being morose or wallowing in sorrow, the album celebrates both the peaks and the valleys of a turbulent relationship; it's less like an autopsy of a love affair than an affectionate, occasionally drunken and rowdy, wake for it. Being such a conceptual album, the lyrics carry much of Tallahassee's weight. Darnielle is up to the challenge, crafting lines that range from the title track's eloquently simple "What did I come down here for? You" to "No Children"'s wickedly funny "I hope that our few remaining friends give up on trying to save us/I hope we come up with a fail-safe plot to piss off the dumb few who forgave us." Lyrics like "We're throwing off sparks/What will I do when I don't have you/To hold onto in the dark?" from "Oceanographer's Choice" convey deeper and more ambivalent emotions altogether; the richness of detail in Darnielle's lyrics makes you wish you could read Tallahassee as well as listen to it -- it's like the Great American Novel condensed into an album (and the prologue that comes with the album gives a tantalizing glimpse of what this story could be in book form). The album is literary as well as literate; songs like the aforementioned "No Children," which appropriately enough sounds like a cross between a sea shanty and a drinking song, conjure up visions of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald crashing a party hosted by Tennessee Williams. Though Darnielle's lyrics are what make Tallahassee so compelling, the album is also musically impressive, ranging from prickly, dysfunctional love songs like "Southwood Plantation Road" and "International Small Arms Traffic Blues" -- a deceptively pretty song that likens the couple's love to global conflicts and covert arms dealing -- to gentle lulls like "Peacocks" to the cathartic "See America Right." Each of the album's songs, in their own way, convey a rare and honest blend of love and frustration that isn't heard nearly enough in any kind of music. "Idylls of the King," which sounds a bit like an indie rock response to "Aguas del Marco," celebrates the wife's eyes as "Twin volcanos/Bad ideas dancing around in there," while the oddly sprightly finale "Alpha Rat's Nest" raises more questions than it answers: what relationship is truly "bad" if both parties go in with their eyes open? Throughout it all, Darnielle's folky twang gives an added authenticity and urgency to his tales of war, peace, love, and hate all living underneath the same roof. Ultimately, Tallahassee is about the staying power, for better or worse, of his couple's love; likewise, the album itself has plenty of staying power, only getting better and growing richer with each listen. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
'The Coroner's Gambit'
Release Date 10/17/2000
Tracks 16
Label Absolutely Kosher
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
After a three-year gap between proper albums (thought three singles collections were released during the interregnum), The Mountain Goats returned in classic form with The Coroner's Gambit. It's all here for both the devoted disciple and the new convert: low-fi production and highly literate lyrics, songs performed with simultaneous intensity and subtlety. Populating the album with images of cooking, gardening, relationships, and death (four common motifs in the Mountain Goats' body of work), and name dropping the likes of Tolstoy and LeAnn Rimes along the way, songwriter and principle Mountain Goat John Darnielle's lyrics are as deceptively simple and idiosyncratic as ever. Much like D.C. Berman of the Silver Jews, Darnielle's lyrics could easily stand alone without musical accompaniment, which maybe explains why he's usually satisfied recording on a boom box: slick production would just be distracting. And while much of the material on The Coroner's Gambit is captured in this modest way, five songs were recorded with Simon Joyner and members of Lullaby for the Working Class and Bright Eyes. But the resulting songs -- though symphonic compared to most of the output of the Mountain Goats, adding additional guitar and minimal string accompaniment -- are still well within the friendly confines of lo-fi. ~ Jason Nickey, All Music Guide
