The Best Thing I Heard this Week-Chris Bathgate

I am a sucker (or perhaps an enthusiast) for great first tracks. As I say this, it seems so overly obvious that it shouldn’t be stated--rather, who isn’t enthralled by a great first track?** Well, years ago, the answer was probably no one. Now, however, I don’t think the answer is quite as obvious. Seemingly, more of the public listens to one or two tracks from an album that they like, and either dismisses the rest of the record or never bothers to hear it in the first place. This is by now not a new phenomenon, but one that has been going on for more than ten years I would imagine. Which is a long-winded way of saying that having a great first track only matters to people who listen to whole albums, and not the track that randomly gets posted on their Facebook wall or that they hear on the radio. I am one of those people, Chris Bathgate’s Salt Year is one of those albums, and the first track, “Eliza (Hue)” is one of those great openers that only comes around every so often.

Which is, of course, why Salt Year is the best thing I heard this week. I first heard “In the City” on All Songs Considered, which makes me pretty late to the Christ Bathgate party. He’s a singer/songwriter of the type which I usually hasten to ignore. However, it’s apparent from the first track that he has created a lush, full record in both the sonic and thematic senses. This isn’t a fucking Jack Johnson record, Bathgate has range. The first track (the aforementioned “Eliza (Hue)”), to a near perfect effect, uses Bathgate’s violin, piano, guitar, vocal harmonies, and percussion to fully wash over his listener. By the end you are left reeling emotionally and ready to be inundated with the rest of the record. Who is Eliza? What happened? How do you get your violin to make those sounds?

And, for someone who listens to whole records, that part is important. After the first track, I was rapt with attention, ready to be consumed by the rest of the record. Luckily, Salt Year does not disappoint. Bathgate does not fall into one of the many traps set for singer/songwriters, that of having every song end up sounding the same. It’s a folk record, but one that isn’t afraid to rock a little bit. Some songs are guitar-heavy, others mandolin, horns, and yet others violin.

The record is emotionally wrought as well. The two Eliza tracks tell a sad story, and “Salt Year” one of regret and nostalgia (and the term “salt year” is a pretty fucking cool thematic descriptor of the personal tragedies visited on this album):

Seventeen years before
I should have hauled off and kissed her
now I lace my wine with ginger
just let my evenings pass
they pass they pass they pass they pass and they pass

she's whistling in a candy store
and I'm just screaming in the dark here
I'm just choking down a salt year
when sugar's all I've longed for, all I’ve longed for, all I’ve longed for

Photo by austinadvocate

Finally, it seems necessary to add that while the description I have provided of the record makes it sound sad as shit, and at times it is, this isn’t a wholly depressing or melancholy record. I think that’s mostly because Bathgate is able to disguise some of the sadness and depression in music that doesn’t exactly convey those emotions. “Time” may be depressing in content, but the song uses a change of pace and a little instrumental weight to provide a more upbeat feel. The same could be said of “In the City” and “Own Design.”

Maybe the best thing I can say about this record is that it could easily be the soundtrack to Friday Night Lights (RIP). Bathgate’s music exhibits the same emotional highs and lows as the show, which is no small feat. This is an exceptionally well-crafted record, and certainly the best thing I heard this week.

**Let’s talk for a minute about what a Truly Great first track is. It has to do two things well: (1) Be a great song in and of itself; and (2) provide a sort of introduction, sonically and thematically, to the rest of the record. A ton of first tracks do one of the two. Very few do both.Why? Well, first, it’s really, really fucking hard to make a great song. Period. Second, to make a great song that also serves as an introduction to the record requires the kind of planning, foresight, deftness of sound, skill, and, well, intelligence, that few possess. Off the top of my head, Wilco has (or had?) a knack for doing both. Other semi-recent ones: Bon Iver’s “Flume,” Deer Tick’s “Ashamed,” The National’s “Fake Empire,” and every first track from a Shins record.