“Windfall,” the first track on Son Volt‘s Trace, is the reason I still keep up with Jay Farrar/Son Volt, etc.
I can still remember the first time I heard the song. It was Vegas at my brother’s home. He was moving, if the fuzzy memory proves correct, across town into new digs in preparation for marriage. Something about the song, the mournful twang of the guitar, the pedal steel, the violin … something resonated deep.
How does music do that?
Trace recently turned up after a long absence (lost among school papers in a shoulder bag unlovingly shoved into a corner), and listening to it has been a window into the soul. It’s still a great disc. Great enough to buy each of the band’s other discs, even though they aren’t as good.
It’s interesting that this obscure song from this revered (by some people) band has the power to keep a person buying while other music seems to slide on by. I can’t understand why Son Volt has been so attractive while a band like Third Eye Blind, whose initial album was equally glorious and still equally enjoyable, was a one-off purchase. I have never bought another Third Eye Blind, or a Matchbox 20 for that matter, disc.
I guess I always thought Third Eye Blind’s initial disc success could never be equaled. Son Volt’s first disc, on the other hand, sounded like a promise of greater things.
What kinds of music have you kept up with? What music have you let fall away?
Have you ever asked yourself why?