Twenty years ago.
The best album I ever heard was reissued today.
Jay Farrar killed it. Son Volt. Trace. This album, which I've listened to religiously over the course of the last 20 years. Twenty damn years. Really?
There is something about an album that is in your blood, that is where you're from, that takes you to a time when you were, and still are. It's so hard to explain, yet so easy to.
The album Trace is, still, my favorite album of all time, and I have a pretty good track record of what is awesome. I'm not sure if it's the lyrics, the getting into Alt Country and having it defined to me through this record, living in 'sin' with my now wife in younger days, or just the absolute awesomeness of it. It just damn IS.
Like a national tragedy, or a defining moment in your life that is pure bliss, you remember exactly where you were when something stuck, and oh, boy, this album did just that. Going back--
It was 1996 (of course I know it came out in 95) and I was a little bit of a late bloomer in the day and picking up everything that SubPop was still putting out at the time, even if the quality of Subpop had gotten less than perfect.
I can't explain it, but I remember exactly where I was when I first heard it. My 'pre' brother-in-law just kind of brought it up to me as we were house-sitting for him in his East Hill rental in Pensacola. ---the dog that died from eating ladies underwear fetish overdose not long after. The hardwood floors. The neighbors that shared the duplex that we never really saw--He said simply, 'Rob, check out this album and let me know what you think' (while they were on vacation). I kinda put it in the home stereo and had a listen as I was doing shit, getting ready for work, etc. All of maybe 25 years old, with nothing on the agenda other than 'where were we going to have drinks tonight?" going through my head. Then, another listen again when I got home from work---a dinner date with (my now soul-mate) wifey (who I give total credit to for the billion re-plays as I hung out with her--lucky me). A burned tape that could play in the Geo Tracker. A tape later converted to CD and played at work while the monotonous mail inserting machine clicked along. The driving lyrics of every. single. song. Something new picked up after every listen, on every song. Now a store bought CD to play in the tracker. "Southbound you can taste the weather--feels like home".
Songs my five year old daughter sang with her now-uncle ten years later. I remember my brother in law playing Windfall flawlessly on the guitar and my kiddo singing along right with him. The best days.
I remember smoking cigarettes while listening (now 18 years quit), drinking beer while listening, just doing damn EVERYTHING, while listening. This album CONSUMED me for about two years, until I found others (i.e. Whiskeytown, Old 97's, Wilco, etc) sign of the times...but there was always the staple.
Shows in New Orleans, after seeing them the night before in Austin--the finally a show in Pensacola--Sorry Jay, I know the sound guy was an asshole idiot. I wont complain if you play at least within a 60-200 mile radius of here. Vinyl Music Hall will treat you right though--promise!
A year later, I was lucky enough to have my best friend living in Austin-those great times when tickets to SXSW were only $40 and you had to rush to see Bottle Rockets, right before or after Son Volt and Blue Mountain.
Yep.
I got a ticket and was able to see Son Volt the next year too at the now defunct Liberty Lunch. I didn't know it at the time, even after I bought all the older Uncle Tupelo CDs but we were waiting in line for the show and I let this older dude step in line next to me on his way to get in. Friendliest guy i'd ever meet-standing in line anyway-I gotta say this dude got preferential treatment and I couldn't understand--"dude! this guy just butted in front of me--maybe I should raise some hell and get him sent back to the end of the line--But later I knew.
Doug Fucking Sahm. OMG. How did I not know that? Well, I sure as shit realized it when I was watching Son Volt on stage an hour later killing it on the Straightaways tour-my ear drums (almost) bleeding-thank God for dollar earplugs (well played liberty lunch), then this guy comes out--the same guy that butted in front of me and played with Son Volt doing a cover of "Give Back the Key to my Heart". I was humbled and felt stupid at the same time. OMG. What. A. Night. I'd let you cut in front of me ANYTIME--what I'd give for him to still be around!
The best albums don't have to be the singing, the melodies, even the perfect lyrics that kick you in the balls. They just have to be. They have to take you to a place that you were, whether it be a time, or a collection of events that make it perfect.
Trace does all that, and sharing it with friends over the years that now love it, or kids that you've had that you've bred it into with continuous plays or just a time when life was 'better'. These are the things that great albums are made of, and for me, still the absolute best memories are ingrained with this disc. May it never get old and shelved. It sure won't in my house! Bring on the NEW memories.
"Seein Traces of the scars that came before--hittin the pavement, still asking for more."
