1. The Mountain Goats – This Year

The first time I heard The Mountain Goats, I was shuffling through Joms’ iPod on our way to the San Diego Zoo last year. I think we were talking about the absurdity of the emergence of a Lo-Fi category in alternative music, where TMG falls under. I forget which track or album were we listening to then but I remember clearly how TMG’s music, albeit crudely recorded (a main characteristic of Lo-Fi), served as the perfect soundtrack to the vast and never-ending San Diego Freeway.

I’ve since heard most of TMG’s discography and I’ve included the group (it’s actually the moniker of singer-songwriter John Darnielle)  as one of my all-time favorites.

I like the intimate feel of TMG’s albums that always revolve around a central narrative – a series of lo-fi opera/concept albums.  I’m currently listening to The Sunset Tree (2005). So far, this one ranks among their best albums to me (the other one is 2006’s Get Lonely).

Despite the brutal reality of The Sunset Tree (it’s about a teenager growing up with an abusive stepfather), I still appreciate the glowing optimism in some of the tracks.  I am particularly moved by This Year with its resounding resolution/assertion “I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.”

I’m posting here the rest of the lyrics and the video for better appreciation.

This Year

I broke free on a saturday morning.
I put the pedal to the floor.
headed north on mills avenue,
and listened to the engine roar.

my broken house behind me and good things ahead,
a girl named cathy wants a little of my time.
six cylinders underneath the hood crashing and kicking,
ahhh listen to the engine whine.

I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.

I played video games in a drunken haze
I was seventeen years young.
hurt my knuckles punching the machines
the taste of scotch rich on my tongue.

and then cathy showed up and we hung out.
trading swigs from the bottle all bitter and clean
locking eyes, holding hands,
twin high maintenance machines.

I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.

I drove home in the california dusk.
I could feel the alcohol inside of me hum.
picture the look on my stepfather’s face,
ready for the bad things to come.

I downshifted as I pulled into the driveway.
the motor screaming out stuck in second gear.
the scene ends badly as you might imagine,
in a cavalcade of anger and fear.

there will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year.

I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.