JACKSON C. FRANK / Jackson C. Frank (1965)

It's heartbreaking to think that Jackson made just one album, and astonishing to learn that he reportedly recorded the entire thing in less than three hours. It's his masterpiece by default, but fully deserving of the accolade.
His talent is undeniable and every bit the equal of his more well-known folk music peers. His tragic life story (schizophrenia and depression, homeless and destitute, dead at 56 of pneumonia) adds a tearful footnote to the prodigious emotional current that characterises his works. Listening to the soft melancholy that he coaxes from his guitar strings breaks my heart every time, and also, somehow, consoles an unseen part of me that remembers what it was like to be lost.

Songs of Note: My Name is Carnival; Just Like Anything

5 tender skies out of 5

KATATONIA / The Fall of Hearts (2016)

If I was in need of the post-BMD Katatonia sound but for some reason didn't have any of the better albums to hand, then TFoH would do, but it would be something of a compromise on my part. To be fair, it does deliver the usual mournful, warm, emotional-bandaging that they've perfected, but I often find myself drifting away from its overly-polished charms instead of being carried along with them.
I genuinely like the soft, pastoral moments, but the bulk of the album sometimes feels like it adheres to the established template a little too much. And yet, there are elements within the shifting structures that are wholly unexpected, that exist to break the rules. It's an odd feeling being stirred but still left wanting; it's like eating a heart-shaped cake that sates your taste buds but not your appetite.

Songs of Note: Old Heart Falls; Last Song Before the Fade

3½ residual thoughts out of 5

GREEN DAY / Greatest Hits: God's Favorite Band (2017)

This was originally a massive rant. But, that was dumb of me. Green Day make albums. Their (purely musical) Greatest Hits releases are an innately incongruous concept to the type of fan that I am. If you want to hear singles from (almost) across their entire career, by all means. Enjoy them in the way that works for you. I'm not pulling elitist hipster rank by relating the following, I'm simply giving thanks:

I've grown up with Green Day. I cannot imagine my life without them. It doesn't matter that Billie Hey-Ho's so much that I can no longer listen to (or experience) them live, anymore. It doesn't matter that I'll never be able to play like Mike. It does, however, matter that my friends and I are glorious perverts, cut from the same cloth as Mr. Tré Fucking Cool, himself. Whereas most of them prefer one era of their career to the other, I un-conflictingly adore them both. They're the only way I can comfortably engage with politics, because they always focus on the mental and emotional impact they have on those of us simply trying to make it day to day in this entirely fucked world.

I've edited the artwork to make a fully representative piece of visual iconography. And, I'm not even going to be giving a score. If I've learned anything from Green Day, it's that I can and should do whatever I want, while I can.

I suppose this is what unconditional love feels like.
This might be the first time god and I have something in common.