Nashville by Josh Rouse

When I decided how much I really loved Josh Rouse’s new album, Nashville—and I do love it: it’s the kind of album that the CD repeat function is designed for, you fall for one song and listen to it over and over, then fall for another and listen to it until you fall for the next—I thought about writing a review.

I was going to tell you that it’s as good as last year’s 1972, every bit as catchy, with melodious hooks and occasional blue notes and plaintive lyrics intentionally undercutting its beauty. But I thought how dry that would be; how I’ve read those reviews before, and how they might make me want to hear the album, but only because I liked the person who liked the album.

So I was trying to figure out how to convey how good this album is, and Susan Sontag’s 1964 essay ‘Against Interpretation’ came to mind. In it, she argues that ‘in place of a hermeneutics we need an erotics of art.’

Well, that was 40 years ago and her idea didn’t really catch on. But I thought I would give it a try with this album. So the preceding posts have been memories, sentiments and images that the ten songs evoked for me. Some are probably direct and obvious after the connection is made, some less so.

Anyway, listen to the album. It’s stunningly gorgeous.

Part one of Nashville:

it’s the nighttime