Brooklyn Bridge by Triborough
I cannot get enough of this song, which is good because KINK.fm in Portland is playing it a lot these days (because I'm not alone in loving the heck out of the song) in anticipation of The Avett Brothers' upcoming July concert in the area. It's been awhile, a long while actually, since I attended a concert at a smaller venue such as the one where they are booked. Going to this concert deserves serious consideration; I just might order two tickets.
Excerpts from a review at PopMatters, dated September 29, 2009:
Are the Avett Brothers the Next Big Thing? They certainly bring formidable weapons to the sweepstakes. The Avetts, guitarist Seth and banjoist Scott, are two sweet-singing, super-handsome bros who harmonize on idiosyncratic, soulful folk songs about love and family and connection, the kinds of tunes that inspire lots of linked arms and swaying heads from their fiercely-devoted fans. Signs at Avett Brothers shows often read “Avett Nation”, which feels accurate enough when the crowds of plaid-clad grad students dig deep and sing along in ecstatic unison. The North Carolina band, rounded out by bassist Bob Crawford and touring cellist Joe Kwon, have built up quite a head of steam lately, releasing the well-received Emotionalism in 2007 and the Gleam II EP last year, which marked the boys’ strongest songs yet (and some sweet beards—Seth was looking pretty Pennsylvania Dutch there for awhile). It’s no wonder that the Avetts caught the attention of Rick Rubin, who signed the band to his Columbia/American imprint and produced their new major-label debut, I and Love and You. . .
. . . I and Love and You starts off with the title cut and, as the lead single and the centerpiece of live shows over the summer, it’s a song they’re obviously proud of and for good reason—it’s stellar. The song is an ambrosial slice of heartland balladry, and with its piano intro, vocal harmonies, and the “You don’t know the shape I’m in” refrain, it feels like the ghost of Richard Manuel is overlooking the proceedings. The boys make a point of splitting vocal duties, with Scott on the first verse and Seth on the second, but it’s when they sing together that they maximize their strengths. The song appears to be about the healing balm of Brooklyn, but the universality that these guys are so good at capturing comes down to those three words that are hard to say. . .
.
