Blake Solomon
01/22/08, 01:06 AM
Jon Foreman - Winter
Record Label: Lowercase People Records / Credential Recordings
Release Date: January 15, 2008
I’m not sure how this will go, so bear with me.
I Love Jon Foreman. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would to finally see that in print. It’s not that I even love Switchfoot. The album everyone else and their God-fearing mother loved (The Beautiful Letdown) is the only one I enjoy by the group. Still, his lyrics have always been good. He is a fine musician. But did I Love him? Of course not, that would be silly. I don’t know him. I’m not a 14-year old girl. He isn’t in Plain White T’s. You know what? Fuck those girls for making it cliché to love a musician. Why are they the only people allowed to profess their true feelings for a particularly gifted songwriter? Winter walked right into my heart, sat down inside and made itself at home. (You know I wouldn't write a sentence like that unless I truly, truly meant it.) These six, lightly orchestrated acoustic songs will be with me forever. The amazing thing is I knew my connection would be special upon first listen. That just doesn’t happen to me anymore. And to be honest, I’m not really sure if I want you to be happy or sad for me. The only thing I am sure about is what you’ve no doubt already deduced: you need Winter.
I will be extremely surprised if someone releases a better song than “Somebody’s Baby” in 2008. Foreman’s voice is gristly and weathered as he tells the story of a young, drug-addicted woman. Lines like “All of her nightmares grew fingers / And all of her dreams grew a tear” literally chilled me to the bone. A mournful violin paints a picture of grey skies and hopelessness. But the true message of “Somebody’s Baby” is one we forget all too easily: everyone has someone who loves him or her, no matter what. We pass by those in need everyday, and I can only speak for myself on this one, but I push these people out of my mind almost immediately. I just don’t want to deal with it, because, you know, I’ve got my own “problems.” Who am I kidding? I’ve got it great. So do you, I reckon. As I write this, another anonymous person is dying of hunger/thirst/broken dreams. But remember this: “She’s somebody’s baby, somebody’s baby girl / And she’s somebody’s baby still.”
“Learning How To Die” begins with a breathy woodwind instrument (an Oboe, perhaps?). Foreman speaks about the inevitability of passing on from this life. Even with slightly regal trumpets in the background, the song has an admittedly somber feel. I think, however, that the song is quite cheerful. Yes, we aren’t going to be around too long. But we must remember to use our time well. “I Am Still Running” is anchored by a heavy bass drum and picked acoustic guitar. Foreman is very forward with his religious faith on Winter, and this song is no different. With falsetto backing vocals he sings: “Build me a home / Inside your scars / Build me a home / Inside your song / Build me a home / Inside your open arms / The only place I ever will belong.” At times there is a Sunday Night Worship Band-feel, but if that doesn’t bother you, there should be nothing to keep you from Winter’s greatness. Foreman will release two more EP’s this year (Spring and Summer), and I don’t necessarily hope those albums are more “joyful” or “carefree.” There are plenty of happy things being sung about on Winter, but with blooming flowers and rising temperatures, the next installments will probably feature quicker tempos and lighter atmospheres. However, after the brilliance and emotion brought forth on Fall and Winter, I couldn’t be any less worried about what Jon Foreman has in store for us. It will, without a doubt, be brilliant.
Just to reiterate: I Love Jon Foreman.
Recommended If You Like: Switchfoot, Relient K's Apathetic EP, reading a glorified diary entry by Blake, Drew Danburry, pulpits inhabited by a hypocritical college student
www.jonforeman.com
Record Label: Lowercase People Records / Credential Recordings
Release Date: January 15, 2008
I’m not sure how this will go, so bear with me.
I Love Jon Foreman. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would to finally see that in print. It’s not that I even love Switchfoot. The album everyone else and their God-fearing mother loved (The Beautiful Letdown) is the only one I enjoy by the group. Still, his lyrics have always been good. He is a fine musician. But did I Love him? Of course not, that would be silly. I don’t know him. I’m not a 14-year old girl. He isn’t in Plain White T’s. You know what? Fuck those girls for making it cliché to love a musician. Why are they the only people allowed to profess their true feelings for a particularly gifted songwriter? Winter walked right into my heart, sat down inside and made itself at home. (You know I wouldn't write a sentence like that unless I truly, truly meant it.) These six, lightly orchestrated acoustic songs will be with me forever. The amazing thing is I knew my connection would be special upon first listen. That just doesn’t happen to me anymore. And to be honest, I’m not really sure if I want you to be happy or sad for me. The only thing I am sure about is what you’ve no doubt already deduced: you need Winter.
I will be extremely surprised if someone releases a better song than “Somebody’s Baby” in 2008. Foreman’s voice is gristly and weathered as he tells the story of a young, drug-addicted woman. Lines like “All of her nightmares grew fingers / And all of her dreams grew a tear” literally chilled me to the bone. A mournful violin paints a picture of grey skies and hopelessness. But the true message of “Somebody’s Baby” is one we forget all too easily: everyone has someone who loves him or her, no matter what. We pass by those in need everyday, and I can only speak for myself on this one, but I push these people out of my mind almost immediately. I just don’t want to deal with it, because, you know, I’ve got my own “problems.” Who am I kidding? I’ve got it great. So do you, I reckon. As I write this, another anonymous person is dying of hunger/thirst/broken dreams. But remember this: “She’s somebody’s baby, somebody’s baby girl / And she’s somebody’s baby still.”
“Learning How To Die” begins with a breathy woodwind instrument (an Oboe, perhaps?). Foreman speaks about the inevitability of passing on from this life. Even with slightly regal trumpets in the background, the song has an admittedly somber feel. I think, however, that the song is quite cheerful. Yes, we aren’t going to be around too long. But we must remember to use our time well. “I Am Still Running” is anchored by a heavy bass drum and picked acoustic guitar. Foreman is very forward with his religious faith on Winter, and this song is no different. With falsetto backing vocals he sings: “Build me a home / Inside your scars / Build me a home / Inside your song / Build me a home / Inside your open arms / The only place I ever will belong.” At times there is a Sunday Night Worship Band-feel, but if that doesn’t bother you, there should be nothing to keep you from Winter’s greatness. Foreman will release two more EP’s this year (Spring and Summer), and I don’t necessarily hope those albums are more “joyful” or “carefree.” There are plenty of happy things being sung about on Winter, but with blooming flowers and rising temperatures, the next installments will probably feature quicker tempos and lighter atmospheres. However, after the brilliance and emotion brought forth on Fall and Winter, I couldn’t be any less worried about what Jon Foreman has in store for us. It will, without a doubt, be brilliant.
Just to reiterate: I Love Jon Foreman.
Recommended If You Like: Switchfoot, Relient K's Apathetic EP, reading a glorified diary entry by Blake, Drew Danburry, pulpits inhabited by a hypocritical college student
www.jonforeman.com