"...So what do they sound like?"

[tomEisenbraun]

Imagine you've just woken up in a new country, you don't know which, because you got their in sleep, and you aren't sure you aren't still dreaming. It's in the dead of the night, though. You can't understand a word of the language (you're not even sure you've ever heard it before) but you're desperately lonely, so you walk into a house crowded full of people, but you can't understand a word, and no one sees you because you've nothing to say.

Put out, you walk out the back door to look at the stars and try to make something of your loneliness and as you close your eyes you hear a voice singing to the same stars in this language you've never heard before, singing exactly what's inside you, echoing off the moon and stars, and changing your soul. This stranger is the most enigmatically beautiful human being you've ever seen. Attempting to go introduce yourself you suddenly find yourself awash in sunlight on your knees, crying in happiness--the stranger disappeared, and somewhere, almost inaudibly but not quite, that voice is still singing. And you carry it with you...

[tomEisenbraun]

Edit:

How the hell are we supposed to answer this question? They are now without genre, comparison, or classification. In a world of their own with their own sound. Can we find influences? Sure! But I wouldn't say they sound like Sam Cooke or Neil Young or Led Zeppelin or Wilco or the Flaming Lips or Pink Floyd or Skynyrd.

So comparisons are out.

Maybe...hmm...maybe a comparison with a twist?

If Kermit the Frog sang back-up for Neil Young for a few years, then quit and bought a four-track and slowly began merging into the universe (or was that the universe merging into him?) over the course of the next 30 years....that's what they sound like.

Seriously, how in the hell are we supposed to answer this?

What I did above was try to capture the feeling of the music that resonates most with my soul and turn it into an image--the description of sound itself is just so...inappropriate almost, that it takes away from what these guys are able to achieve. If you guys can find a way to convey what this band does to you in a way similar or dissimilar, then let's hear it! I'm so sick of not being able to answer this question with anything more than a loud sigh of acknowledgment of the complete inadequacy of the human language.

[Goat Boy]

Or as Van Morrison put it, rather more succintly, the inarticulate speech of the heart  ;)

I might come back to this...

[tomEisenbraun]

Please do -- your input is always appreciated (even when we clash!). Looking forward to hearing what you've got, Junior Member!

(You're only 450 posts away from gettin' that old time feeling! Woo!)

[Angry Ewok]

Hello.
Me, Bradley.
Me sail ocean in longship.
You, Native.
You meet me on beach.

Me like MY MORNING JACKET.
You listen, now.



And thus... the true story behind Thanksgiving.

[Killgies]

Good music is beautiful in any language. Even if you don't understand the words, you will feel the emotions through the music.
Kind of like the Force
;D

[Angry Ewok]

Good music is beautiful in any language. Even if you don't understand the words, you will feel the emotions through the music.
Kind of like the Force
;D

MTFBWYA!!!!

[primushead]

Seriously, if you could work a star wars reference into each post from now on, it would be the greatest thing ever.

[Angry Ewok]

Seriously, if you could work a star wars reference into each post from now on, it would be the greatest thing ever.

That would be freaking awesome. Second only to having a Star Wars reference for a username, of course.

[Goat Boy]

Please do -- your input is always appreciated (even when we clash!). Looking forward to hearing what you've got, Junior Member!

(You're only 450 posts away from gettin' that old time feeling! Woo!)

I hadn't forgotten!  Apologies for the delay in posting but work has been a pain these past couple of days.

Well different records give me different vibes and send me different imaginary places of course.  At Dawn's intimacy will always be connected to the period of my life when I first heard it and fell in love with it unsurprisingly.  I was backpacking in Australia at the time so this is what that record feels like to me now.  Geographically and emotionally it's connected in my mind to Australia and that particular year of my life.  So many happy memories.  Anyway, enough of the nostalgia, I've run with your idea - which was a good one and I felt deserved a considered reply - and tried to create something similar.  Feel free to laugh your asses off at it and mock appropriately.  It's not the kind of thing I'd usually post on a message board to be honest.  So, it starts with yours truly driving somewhere on the west coast of Australia.

The Way That He Sings [size=9](look, I even gave it a poncy title!)[/size]

.......It's been many hours since the last gas station but thankfully you have arrived just in time at the next one.  Exiting the van you are welcomed by a widescreen vista that could be straight out of a John Ford movie.  The gas station appears suitably small and insignificant in comparison.  The scorched red earth of the outback that has stretched out seemingly endlessly before you for days now, begins it's daily routine and merges ominously with the night producing a calm, black ocean.  Bending your spine backwards you arch your back, let out a small groan and look at the night sky.  It's remarkably clear.  The heavens are showing off tonight but it's been a long day, you're starting to fade and the stars, as pretty as they are, cannot prop up your eyelids.  Wearily you fill the tank, pay the man $40 and make your way back to the van kicking a stone across the sandy, ochre floor as if you've scored a winning goal on the way.  Suddenly a noise somewhere to your left catches your attention.  You look up and a figure appears from behind a gas pump.  A smallish young man holding an acoustic guitar who looks older than he really is fixes you in his stare.  "Hey there" he says.  You walk over and greet him.  On closer inspection it's clear he is years younger than you originally suspected.  Something about is appearance, his general demeanor made him appear older from a distance but closer you can see that his skin is fresh and his eyes are those of a young man in his twenties.  He offers you a handshake, you respond and he shakes your hand gripping it tight as one really should when meeting a stranger.  You notice the unusual softness of his skin.  His name is James and he is clearly happy to see you.  You begin to chat and wander over to the van where you open the side door and sit down together as he places the sunburst acoustic guitar on the back seat.  He talks enthusiastically in quiet, honey smooth tones but with a commanding, direct intensity that instantly impresses you.  When he speaks he looks right into your eyes yet his directness leaves no trace of awkwardness on your part as it usually would when a complete stranger addresses you in such a way.  On the contrary his openness is refreshing, almost childlike and rather captivating.  Immediately your guard is down.  Trust is implicit.  

After a while the enigmatic James brings out a pipe.  One of those pipes with a rotund chamber you remember silhouetted on those Sherlock Holmes books your Father used to read.  You search inside your pockets in the vague hope of finding something to smoke but there's nothing.  You look at him clearly disappointed but the stranger ignores your reaction and, smiling warmly, pulls a lighter from his jacket pocket, puts the pipe to his lips, lights it, inhales deeply then like an angry bull shoots the smoke out through his flared nostrils.  The night air welcomes the smoke as warmly as the strangers hand welcomed you not so long ago.   You enquire about three mysterious initials you notice embroidered in Golden thread on his jacket - MMJ - but James doesn't offer an explanation.  Instead, he hands you the pipe.  Instantly you recognise the sweet, fruity taste.  A smile inevitably breaks out on your face as you inhale the smoke, keeping it in your lungs for a while to get the full effect before exhaling smoothly.  James clears his throat and asks if you'd mind turning on the radio.  "Of course not" you reply even if you know you haven't had any reception since early afternoon.  However, amazingly the radio coughs into life when the dial is turned.  Princes If I Was Your Girlfriend.  You comment that it's possibly your favourite song on Sign 'O' The Times and that It is the most underrated.  The stranger nods appreciatively and regales you infectiously with his love of Purple Rain.  You tell him LoveSexy has been your favourite since you were 16 and you both laugh out loud at the thought of a naked Prince and the cheeky penis shaped flower discreetly located on the sleeve.  James turns the dial again. Galaxie 500 this time.  Something from On Fire but you can't place the woozy melody.  The THC is really kicking in after that second blast.  Another turn of the dial reveals Roy Orbisons magnificent voice soothing the lonely.   Each song is greeted with an infectious grin as James and yourself share your thoughts and delight in the obvious similarities between each other.  "Would you mind if I sing?" he asks.  "Please do".  Bent over an acoustic guitar he slowly begins to pluck delicately and precisely at the vibrating strings.   You stare at his fingers which felt chubby when you shook his hand yet now can't help but remind you of the delicate, feminine fragility of Jimmy Scotts as they play.  Long, slender and moving with sharp but fluid grace he picks out the chords and begins to sing.  You listen with rapt attention.  "I wont ask you where you're goin.  I wont ask you where you've been".  As the chorus dawns you take another large blast of the pipe and once again feel your vision casting upwards as James's voice rises, twirling it's leaves around the chords like vine around a heavenly pillar. "Hopefully it occurs to you that there's one thing I can't stand.  That's the thought of one single day without your head in my hand".  It's appropriately cosmic and the stars are shining that bit brighter now.  Perhaps the melodies are making them smile in celestial recognition tonight.  Your nose twitches as the feint aroma of distant magnolia drifts by and your head is now swimming.  A warm, familiar glow begins to take over your body.  It's intoxicating.  Ethereal.  Spiritual.  A connection.  When the song is over you nod your appreciation and offer a heartfelt "thankyou".  It's almost dawn.    

Basically when I discovered MMJ it felt like I'd been reacquainted with an old friend whom I'd never actually met before.  That's what it's like when you fall for a band.  It's the strangeness of the new that actually feels incredibly familiar.  That's what I've tried to capture above.  That level of intimacy and spell a favourite band can cast on you from the beginning.

[Love Dogg]

Tom and Goat Boy...you guys are blowing my mind a little bit.  I feel and see what you both are saying.  It's unexplainable, but y'all are getting close.  Thanks.