Whimsy is an overlooked quality of John Darnielle’s. After his confessional storytelling, and commanding, yet unimposing, nasality – which might appear snarky if not for his confessional storytelling – a sense of humour has sparingly earned chief mountain goat a few extra knickers slung from fans and critics. It’s always been there – “I know that one of us, I’m not saying who, has got rocks in her head” (Orange Ball of Hate) – but Days presents a wee bit of evidence to the quality of John applying humour to a subject he takes seriously. The album is enticed by the modern folklore of rock music and, to a lesser extent, Hollywood, and while John thumbs through the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s with a dark sincerity in his heart (I mean, two songs have the word ‘grave’ in the title), he realises such seriousness has already been overblown by rock critics and historians. So if you’re going to write about Woodstock ’99, make sure you really hammer the word “cocaine” into your audience’s ears whilst being hilariously nonchalant about it. There was so much cocaine involved in that festival; according to some accounts, even the cows were high.
John dives headfirst into the very real story of Charlie Sheen going to the police with a gore film, thinking it was real life footage, on Charlie Sheen Reaches Out to the Feds (“Gentlemen, the camera doesn’t lie / how many more innocent women must die?”). His humour never distracts from his powerful, heartland-y chords; a zappy I-V-IV combo shared with Annie Haslam Imperial Phase, on which John sounds like an aging rock fan shouting on a bus, informing anyone in radius that Renaissance indeed played at Carnegie Hall.
The way that John collects information suggests not the actions of a singer-songwriter but professional traveller. He has released countless “Going to” songs, which on this album includes Going to Fennario; a traditional folk singalong, outlandishly pretty even if that means you can already imagine the ukulele covers, featuring a beautiful gospel-adjacent chorus and tribute to Bob Weir, who I completely forgot had died. On Days, he’s going to Seattle. He spends time with Alice in Chains on Song for Layne Staley, which, in another Darnielle gag, interpolates the Smells Like Teen Spirit drum intro over gruelling acoustic guitar-strumming. He documents the downfall of a band that was set to go on tour…with CANDLEBOX on Candlebox, featuring a burst of energy in the chorus, via a planetarium laser show on the riff, and a striving I-ii-IV-V chord progression that allows the song to expand emotionally.
The album explores the bonds that trivial lyrics may share with hidden emotion. The choruses of Best Hard Rock Albums 2013 are as teary as a popstar’s pledge of love or heartbreak, but John’s just talking about end-of-year album lists. Crazy what a sudden drop into a IV can do, alongside fretless bass sounds and dazing drum syncopations. But that’s John Darnielle; he’s very good at resourcing emotion. Hidden Majesty of Later Venom Albums contains guitars that float around a large, blackened canyon, pointy piano chords that twinge like shudders on the neck, and the biggest heartbreaker of all: the simple line “just a little more bass on the wedge, if it’s not too much hassle / thank you for coming… we’re from Newcastle”. The moment itself is a Darnielle-ism at this point; a descriptive line followed a short, snappy rhyme that strikes like a winking hammer, which is the murder weapon I will gladly meet my end at. He makes sure the ensuing rhyme is either humoured or stupidly simple. “Fingers poking up through the ground in the dawn / like Carrie White’s mom” (Shallow Grave). The Darnielle-ism is the kind of thing that makes a new Mountain Goats album feel like the return of a friend – though Days is a fairly quick return, given its predecessor, Through This Fire Across From Peter Balkan, was released November last year – which is made even better when that friend is at its wittiest, and honestly, most joyful in some time.
The stronger the concept, the stronger the Mountain Goats album. Days is lean, but much stronger than some of the more recent “epics” that John Darnielle has attempted. He shuns rock opera in favour of anecdotes, and his anecdotes are far more memorable. Rolling through the decades has earned John a few laughs and plenty of poignancy; a crippling, but joyous account of real life craziness and untimely death that reminds us that time does nothing but turn us into lovers and grievers.
Best tracks – Charlie Sheen Reaches Out to the Feds – Candlebox – Going to Fennario.
Rating – 8 out of 10
