Of course, none of that would matter were it not reflected in his music. You get the sense that Rouse has indeed “been to Prague”. Not to begrudge a guy his happiness, but it’s all a bit cute. Suay co-wrote three of the nine tracks on Country Mouse, City House. Earlier in 2007, they released an EP together called She’s Spanish, I’m American. They collaborate on the artwork for his albums. He started his own label, through which he now releases all his material. He’s said in the past that he lives in Spain because, hey, he likes it there. It’s not like Rouse has sworn off America. Sometime around 2005’s Nashville, Rouse got divorced, kicked an alcohol problem, and moved to Spain. A native Nebraskan, he made a name for himself in Nashville as a sensitive, melodically gifted singer-songwriter, releasing a handful of exceptional albums that got him lots of critical acclaim and a cult following, but not even half the commercial success he deserved. Granted, Rouse’s story is far more complex than a college grad’s semester abroad. The line is so brilliant and hilarious because it captures the smugness and naivety with which American young adult artist types have for decades thrown off their native culture in exchange for a hipper, more thoughtful European model.Īnd when I think about Josh Rouse these days, especially his new album Country Mouse, City House, I can’t help but think of that line.
Well, I haven’t “been to Prague” been to Prague, but I know that thing, that, “Stop shaving your armpits, read The Unbearable Lightness of Being, date a sculptor, now I know how bad American coffee is” thing… When he tells her that Prague is overrated, she points out he’s never been there.
Cool, so does U-Haul.One of the best lines in Noah Baumbach’s 1995 cult classic indie film Kicking and Screaming comes when hopeless romantic college grad Grover’s girlfriend tells him she’s leaving him to move to Prague. Latin-tinged "His Majesty Rides", shaking it like Rob Thomas's "Smooth" without the Santana solos, finds Rouse singing, "Hey, look now/ We move from town to town". Rouse's idea of a drinking song: "Givin' It Up", a heavy-handed ballad about going on the wagon- "This is a world where no one feels sorry for you"- replete with lovematic Barry White strings. He'd need Mariah Carey's Olympian melismata to sell this brand of tacky sentiment, but Rouse is stuck with a strained Ryan Adams whine.Īt only 33 minutes, Subtítulo doesn't leave Rouse, longtime producer Brad Jones, and their small band much time to recover from such miscues. Glossy potential single "It Looks Like Love" is equally vapid: "There goes that melancholy feeling again/ It looks like love is gonna find a way." As if merely mentioning sadness were the same as describing it. It's the worst thing I've heard this year that wasn't sung by Richard Ashcroft.
Rouse's idea of a love song: "I'm so crazy about you/ So crazy and it's true/ I think you're wonderful/ Don't change," amid ebbing elevator strings. Rouse focuses on times and places, Subtítulo suggests, because he's not so hot at writing about people. And hey, if you're too cool for Jack Johnson's stoned beach bumming, there's always Rouse's scratchy impersonation on palm-swaying nostalgia trip "Summertime".
JOSH ROUSE HOW TO
Not a Travis reference, apparently: turns out the eponymous man just "doesn't know how to smile". Spanish singer Paz Suay lends her lilting accent to duet "The Man Who.", though the pedal steel, bossa nova rhythm, and L-train mentions muddle the geography. Setting has always been important to Rouse's music, and laidback opener "Quiet Town" depicts the troubadour's current Iberian environs atop sunny Harry Nilsson finger-picking, weeping strings, and campfire whistling. Sure enough, Rouse stays the course on Subtítulo, his first album since ditching his former label and moving to Spain. Subsequent pleasantries like Under Cold Blue Stars, 1972, and last year's Nashville conspired to render debut Dressed Up Like Nebraska a big, brooding alt-country fakeout. Rouse started settling into his current rut with his agreeable yet insubstantial sophomore album, 2000's Home. Here's a guy who claims he was ripped off by John Mayer, after all. For someone whose work emphasizes changing locales, singer/songwriter Josh Rouse has yet to travel beyond where-the-heart-is innocuousness.
0 kommentar(er)
