I’ll call you when we’re six feet underground

Jon Auer


Alright, who knows their Posies history? First question: when did they break up? Trick question! They never really broke up. Okay, then, when did they temporarily break up? Another trick question!. Which time?

Let’s try and sort things out. Back in 1997, all of the members began working on solo projects or joined other groups. Naturally, speculation grew that the Posies were no more. But no, they were still together and released another album. And then they really did break up. Except almost immediately following their “last show” Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow played a few shows together, not as “the Posies” but as Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer. What’s the difference, you ask? Not much.

They soon realized this and re-formed the band. Permanently?

Well, they’re both still working on solo projects. Oh, and they’re both in the re-formed Big Star. Yes, that Big Star. So they’ve clearly got a lot going on.

Why the history lesson? Only to explain why it’s understandable that Jon Auer‘s first full-length solo album has taken all of this young millennium to finish.

Finally complete and released earlier this month, Songs from the Year of Our Demise shows Auer’s darker side. He can still bring power-pop with the best of them when necessary, and these songs are certainly pleasant to the ear, but the constant theme is isolation, broken promises, failed relationships, and loss. Accordingly, the fast tempos and breezy feel of the Posies are mostly replaced by slower, quieter, and more sparse arrangements. If you like the Posies, you’ll still love Auer here. But if you are into introspective singer-songwriters, you’ll be pleased, too.

This album easily could have been over-produced and unbalanced (think Paul absent John–still a great songwriter but you sometimes have to wish someone had been willing to tell him “no”), but Auer shows remarkable restraint and taste. While there are a few moments of overindulgence (the outro to “You Used to Drive Me Around” could have been a minute or two shorter, and the title track is unfortunately placed as the conclusion, despite being clearly the worst song on the record), these are rare. On the whole, Auer embraces the philosophy of “less is more,” and the occasional flourish is carefully thought out. For example, the record opens with chimes which guide “Six Feet Under” without overwhelming it, and the double-bass outro to “Angelita” brings the song to a thudding conclusion.

One minor downside is that this is really an album that deserves to be listened to in its entirety. The songs stand up fine alone, but for the full effect, it is important to hear the balance between the faster and slower songs, and between the mostly dark tones and the few glimpses of sunshine. Each song builds upon the foundation of what came before, giving it a scope that each individual track cannot reach.

This is a shame, as one or two standouts would lift this album from being simply an enjoyable listen into a truly fantastic record. There is something to be said for painting a landscape, in intricate and loving detail. But a truly great record, in my mind, brings that landscape to life with a few moments of vivid clarity. These moments of climax give that much more texture to the rest.

That said, I do have a few favorites:

Six Feet Under
Bottom of the Bottle
Cemetery Song

If I haven’t already made it clear that this is not a particularly happy album, those song titles should do the trick. As should the chorus in Six Feet Under: “It’s okay, it’s alright, we can dig our graves tonight.” It would be morbidly depressing if it wasn’t sung so beautifully.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *