By Gabriel
esperately struggling with the letter D, I've found very few of such artists in my collection, and they don't mean as much to me. Drive Like Jehu was the stepping stone to two of my favorite bands, The Dandy Warhols made two decent albums but they're a bunch of pretentious junkies, and my loyalty to The Deftones is merely on an upper-tempo basis. They rock and that's it.
So, I've come to challenge myself with Delta Spirit–currently in its fledgling state with only one album–of whom I know very little. Ode to Sunshine was also recently placed in my "On Trial Pile"–a place where CDs land that have garnered little to none of my attention, and stand to be spared or sold. This is the first time that I've actually had to listen to the artist prior to writing about them.
Coincidentally, Delta Spirit was also featured as an upcoming artist on iTunes. Free songs on iTunes generally translate as "This band/artist sucks. Please help them." In general, the best term I can use to describe Delta Spirit's music is "saloon rock." A great deal of the songs are piano driven and few artists can pull that off. (Billy Joel, Elton John, Ben Folds, Rufus Wainwright,etc.) It's not exactly old Western music or country, but each of these songs could easily be accompanied by a stiff drink in a bar.
"Trashcan" is easily one of the best written and catchiest songs that I've heard since "The Way We Get By" by Spoon. It's unfortunate that the title seems to do it such a disservice and it hardly matches the lyrics. (Update: Trashcan lids were used as instruments. Still a poor title choice.) The most significant pieces on Ode to Sunshine paint a rather bleak picture for the person who's unwilling to elicit change or appreciate what they have after listening to the music. "People, C'mon" is the perfect sing-along representing vagabonds and searchers. Matt Vasquez's voice is sharp and it grinds perfectly in each transition. "People, Turn Around" is a call-to-action in the spirit (no pun intended) of Bruce Springsteen and Woody Guthrie. Its first verse poses an unavoidable question, "Eighteen and jaded with guns in their hands/They were fighting for freedom/And just what is that?" It's a honest question when we live in a country that kills for such a broad, and sometimes abstract, right. Really, what is it? "Children" is the greatest departure for the tone of the album but perhaps the most inspiring. I can almost picture them discussing the composure of the song, "Ok, this is going to be our U2 song." Faith and struggling with God is an undercurrent throughout the album but becomes most apparent here. The song is also a more realistic perspective than "I believe that children are our future." Peaking with a beautiful wail of "When you sitting second class/And as long as you're in control," the song is resolved with "Speaking when you're asked/You make your own stand." Personally, I'd support speaking whenever necessary, but I interpret this to mean that conditions aren't always ideal–take those chances when they come to you.
Lightly attributed to my aesthetic philosophy on visual arts, I tend to leave lyrics be. It stands that when I appreciate any art, I prize form over knowledge. That may be dangerous and naïve. For all I know, a singer could be encouraging the death of all first-borns or a profound love of unicorns. If I happen to understand what's being sung, I may end up liking a song or the performer more or less. Reading these lyrics, I've discovered that I appreciate both the message of Delta Spirit and the bed of music that those lyrics rest upon. Honesty and persistence will get anyone through a time of suffering, and a little faith never hurts. Ode to Sunshine has been transferred back to my permanent collection. I look forward to more music that speaks to conditions and attitudes that are no different today than they were 50 or 60 years ago.

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