Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, My Morning Jacket are as reliably satisfying as microwave popcorn, and it’s equally perplexing to me why they aren’t as universally adored. Like microwave popcorn, they’re surely impossible to dislike (surely??) and their seventh album isn’t significantly less of a towering achievement than any of the six that preceded it (and significantly better than one or two of them). It kicks off with the gorgeous ‘Believe (Nobody Knows)‘- an absolutely scientifically proven perfect album opener- and never really lets up. It’s hard to think of a significantly more pleasurable way to spend 48 minutes (apart from having sex, like, almost a hundred times), my only gripe is that these beautiful songs somehow fail to truly stick with you like old microwave popcorn kernels lodged between your teeth.
‘Fun’ Fact: From Louisville, Kentucky yet as far as I’m aware have never once called themselves ‘The Louisville Lips’. What’s wrong with them?
I was just talking to my mate Sean last night yeah, and he was wondering ‘What’s the best pop song ever about broken bones piercing the skin?’ I’ve told you that you should stay away from that Sean, he seems to talk only in bizarre non sequiturs that turn out to be extremely relevant much later. Anyway ‘Compound Fracture‘ deserves at least to be included in the discussion.