12 songs.

Create 12 songs that are good songs, record them, be it live or one thing at a time, mix them, master them, put them in an order that makes them flow smoothly, and release for public consumption. This process doesn't sound difficult. Surely a band can come up with 12 songs that are worthy of being consumed by the public. And yet, every year, so few bands are able to put together twelve tracks that are all worth a person's time.

I begin my review of My Morning Jacket's It Still Moves with the statement above because this record is far and away one of the most disappointing listens I've had in the past couple of years. And not only is the disc disappointing, but frustrating as well. The reason it is frustrating is because the first half or so of the album is one of the best halves of any album of the last five years, while the second half or so of the album is one of the most headache/yawn inducing, boring halves of any album of the last five years.

There are very very very few bands on earth who can get away with making an entire album of six minute or so (give or take) songs. My Morning Jacket is not one of them. Many times they end their songs in various spurts of instrumental "jams," though jamming denotes some sort of creativity, whereas the "jams" here mostly go nowhere other than serving a purpose of extending the songs out further than they should go. It also doesn't help that their sound as a band, a mix of countrified southern rock, britpop, and the type of country music one would expect from the backwoods of Kentucky, doesn't lend itself to six minute wannabe epics.

Over the first half of the record, this isn't such an annoying trait. The opening Mahgeetah builds up nicely, from its Brit-pop inspired beginning to it's more straight forward driving rock rhythm that takes over the song about a minute into it. The band jams it out for a bit too long, but the song is a very good song.

The group continues the momentum with Dancefloors, which begins with a bit of Brian Jones-era Rolling Stones bluesy guitar work before moving into a comfortable country/southern rock groove. The group lets their hillbilly roots show on Golden, a swift old-school, almost Johnny Cash like number.

The first signs of annoyance crops up on Masterplan. While lead vocalist Jim James' voice sounded full and powerful on the first few tracks, here is where he begins his Thom Yorke impersonation, with mixed results. Thankfully, the band moves back towards their more rocking side on One Big Holiday, a rollicking country roll number that has garnered the band some airplay on modern rock stations in various markets across the country.

I Will Sing You Songs is the beginning of the end of the good for this record. At over nine minutes, it can certainly be a chore to get through, though perhaps most scary is that it is actually worth sitting through. I'm not sure if the band saw that this song worked and decided to drag out the rest of their songs to all too long lengths, but it would explain a lot.

It is at this point where the headaches start. Easy Morning Rebel is a straight up country song with an annoying echo effect. The band utilizes this same echo effect on a lot of the album, but it is here where it first really becomes irritable and jarring to listen to. After a couple of minutes, the song becomes a "play whatever you want" jam session, including a horn section that sounds as out of place as a 16 year old girl on Michael Jackson's ranch.

The bluesy opening that permeates Run Thru is promising, but the song falters under its own weight, not to mention another terrible vocal performance from James. I just don't get how a guy can go from sounding as powerful and intriguing as James does on the first half of this record, and end up by the end of the record sounding like a bad Thom Yorke impersonator. It is truly mind boggling.

The last four songs on the record find James reprising his Yorke voice, with a mix of droning, depressing, and downright boring arrangements for songs that sound as robotic as songs can sound. I couldn't even finish listening to the last track, One in the Same, for fear that I'd want to do something stupid.

It Still Moves might appeal more to music fans who want something that has absolutley no common thread running through it. It is merely a bunch of songs thrown together with no real focus on how they work together as an album.

The scary thing is is that I'll still give it a very very very tepid recommendation, for the brilliance and entertainment value in the first half alone. But a note to My Morning Jacket: cut down on the droning ballads, up the country/southern rock fusion ante, and stop trying to sound like Thom "pretentious a*s" Yorke (and I say that as someone who likes Radiohead). Mr Jones, your voice is much better when you use it in its proper form.

3 stars on the nose, and a very very very tepid recommendation






Recommended: Yes