Restless Leg Syndrome

Zevon on the left, Darnielle second to the right. The most important men in my life, shirt arted by Nina.

Thanks to Arcade (Ipromisewe’llstoptalkingaboutthemsoon) Fire’s new spot on top of the Billboard 200 chart, I’ve spent the past week unsuccessfully attempting to write something new and interesting about the current and future relationship between indie music and the mainstream. Alas, I am temporarily throwing in the towel.

(In lieu of my piece I refer to the behemoth article by my new hero, Nitsuh Abebe at Pitchfork. Though this was published as part of their Y2K wrap up back last September, its still well worth the read.)

Instead I’ll talk about something more personal, in the form of two very important men in my life: John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats and the late, great, Mr. Warren Zevon.

Though my love and respect for both these excitable boys is nothing new, today on my long and treacherous journey between New York and Boston I started thinking of their similarities. While Zevon and Darnielle are pretty far apart instrumentally, it is their witty, self deprecating narratives that win me over time and again. It is only natural that Zevon and The Mountain Goats appeal largely to different generations and audiences, but if you enjoy either one of their styles and don’t know the other, I suggest you learn.

Photo from Asylum Records

When Zevon passed in 2003, I was admittedly way too young to appreciate his work. I would soon learn, however, that his dark lyrics house all the best kinds of character studies. (An in-depth look at these headless gunners, gamblers, and, well, excitable boys can be found at the A.V. Club.) The rarity of Zevon’s genius comes to the surface more and more with each listen, as you catch lines you missed on the first, third and fifth time around. There is much to be said on Warren, and if you like reading artist biographies as much as I do, I wholeheartedly suggest I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead by Zevon’s ex-wife Crystal. But for now I’ll let him do the talking.

Suggested starter songs: “Excitable Boy” (obviously, as if I haven’t referenced it enough in this article), “Lawyers, Guns and Money,” (He “wrote this song late one night on wet cocktail napkins, after a long day of improbable and grotesque mischief.”) “Mohammed’s Radio,” and “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead.”

Photo by Derek Goodwin

John Darnielle also maintains an incredible narrative throughout most of his songs, especially those on The Mountain Goats’ earlier albums like All Hail West Texas, Tallahassee and, though some may disagree, The Sunset Tree. He shines brightest in the first person, telling his stories with a signature wry bluntness. On “Hast Thou Considered The Tetrapod,” a song that plays like an entry from his journal set to some simple chords, Darnielle sings about getting beaten by his step father. Despite the sinister nature of the song, however, when he says, “And then I’m awake and I’m guarding my face, hoping you don’t break my stereo because it’s the one thing that I couldn’t live without, so I think about that, and then I sort of black out,” it’s hard not to laugh. Darnielle’s ability to catch you off guard with black humor makes The Mountain Goats so disarming.

Suggested starter songs: “This Year,” “No Children,” “See America Right.” (Really anything from the aforementioned albums).