I recently posted at Mark's blog about having trouble really getting into the Beach Boys. Well, here is a guy who I didn't like very much at all either when I heard him the first few times. So there may be hope yet for future relations between Brian and I.

I mean I really was looking hard for something to like about Jay's music at the time I was introduced to it, and I just couldn't find anything. He sounded sad, his lyrics often weren't the kind that you found coming out spontaneously in the shower, mostly because I couldn't remember words that I didn't understand, or because they didn't rhyme. But after going back and listening to some the first things that he recorded when he lived in Belleville IL, I began to be interested in the guy, Jay Farrar, and the making of his musical intuition less his actual music that I didn't care for.

Now Jay's music may be the most comprehensively familiar tunes that I have in my head. The way I took a liking to Jay happened in sort of the same way friends of mine might like my music because they have a history with me. Or because they know where I'm coming from. Only I had to work backwards with Jay. There are some people that were able to identify the timeless timbre of Jay's vocals, the prophet like delivery of the songs, and the gift of songwriting. But all I could see were the same simple chords with a shaky delivery that didn't exactly get me pumped up in the morning on the way to work.

In the end, I've found that I love what God did when he gave man the gift of music. And the more I've attempted to tackle the craft of songwriting, the more I respect the idea that songs are gifts and work best when they are received as one.

Here's a list of his recordings if you are interested in checking any of his stuff out (The Son Volt albums are the easiest to get into I think):

Jay Farrar Solo Projects

Sebastopol

Thirdshiftgrottslack EP

Terrior Blues

Son Volt

Trace

Wideswing Tremelo

Straightaways

Uncle Tupelo

No Depression

Still Feel Gone

March 16-20, 1992

Anodyne

89/93: An Anthology