Josh Ritter - Getting Ready to Get Down

Fans of Josh Ritter know how clever he can be, whether he’s singing about bones or orbitals, dogs or empty hearts or love in nuclear war. Perhaps he is at his best when discussing complex, polarizing topics like religion in “Thin Blue Flame,” or “Galahad.” But Ritter clearly outdoes himself with his latest single “Getting Ready to Get Down.”

Often faith is in the background, or at least not always explicitly stated up front. But now, “Get Down,” off his upcoming album “Sermon on the Rocks,” promises to be something of a takedown of religion and Christian doctrine.

The lyrics are a mouthful, and they are tight. If you don’t pay attention you might get overwhelmed, and good luck trying to keep up out loud. There is no subtlety here, with lines like “What kind of God would ever keep a girl from getting what she needs?” What she needs is sexual fulfillment, and Ritter has no qualms about stating it out in the open.

The song is disdainful of the country-clubbers and the uppity ‘ladies of the auxiliary’ who believe the protagonist – a woman who was sent off to Bible school to try to teach her chastity – is possessed by the devil and consumed by sin, for having learned about sex.

Ritter throws it all out there, laughing at the uber-conservatives who believe that “to really be a saint you’ve got to really be a virgin/Dry as a page on a King James version.” Countering that are his own beliefs, that if you want to be a good person, try being a “strength to the weak…a joy to the joyful,” and “give your love freely.

The final message is that no one can tell you who you should be, and “When you get damned in the popular opinion/It’s just another damn of the damns not given.”

If the rest of the album is along the same lines of old-school Bible bashing, then it’ll be something to look forward to.

Album Review: "All Your Favorite Bands" by Dawes

Taylor Goldsmith of Dawes

For me, love for a new Dawes album isn’t always at first sight. I can never put on their record and listen to it spin a couple times and decide that it’s solid material. I’ve found that, with all four of the band’s albums under their current name, it has been a slow build to a feeling of intensity about their work. It’s like how most serious relationships aren’t founded on a sexy haircut or a witty line; it takes time and effort, but it builds into something lasting.

            Each first listen to each of their albums has left me thinking wistfully of the previous album, or, in the case of North Hills, wishing every song could be as good as “When My Time Comes.” But something keeps bringing me back, and eventually I get to the point I was at a little while ago, where I flipped through playlists on my iPod and noticed that most queues had seven or eight Dawes songs – and all from different albums. The more I listen, the more I find things I love about each song, the more I come to appreciate what must’ve gone into the making of the album. And that, in my opinion, is the sign of a great piece of work.