There are a lot of things to like about Sometimes I Sit And Think And Sometimes I Just Sit, the debut longplayer by Australian singer-songwriter Courtney Barnett. If you buy it on CD or LP, it’s round and circular, just like…just like that weird new Star Wars robot. BB-8, I think his name is? (Michael, please review the style guide; relevant info about BB-8 is on page 12. -Dylan)
Anyway…where was I. Fuck. Okay, so Barnett is getting critical raves for her early nineties, fuzzed-out sonic approach, recalling Pavement or Nirvana at their most…um, I don’t know, droid-like? Uh…Pavement is a thing that that BB thing would probably travel along well? (Again, if you read my post in the bullpen, you’d be well aware that we can only confirm that BB-8 rolls on sand and rock. This is borderline irresponsible.) Ugh. So anyway, it’s not hard to understand what makes this album one of the year’s strongest, even though we’re not nearly at the end of the year…when the new Star Wars movie is out.
Barnett delivers lyrics in a fun, stream-of-consciousness, half-talked Aussie burr, which–I guess—is a way a robot that works like R2-D2 with one wheel could possibly talk? (Jesus, Dylan, this is crazy.) (Keep digging, Duque.) Lead single “Pedestrian At Best” crackles with old school rock and roll energy that purists (the kind of people who’d rather have physical effects in sci-fi epics instead of digital ones) are constantly clamoring for. Elsewhere, “Depreston” and “Debbie Downer” are perfect, timeless capsules of bland, small-town life, the kind where you gaze out into the setting twin suns and–
Alright, this is getting out of hand. I’m sorry, everyone. I can’t believe our esteemed editor-in-chief has mandated everything—even the review to a great rock record—be seen through the servo-lens of a character that was in the fucking Star Wars trailer for, what, three seconds? I signed up to write here because I wanted to write something as funny as the two nerds that ate shitty food, but it’s never going to fucking happen if Dylan wants me to write odes to BB-88 or whatever its fucking name is. Dude, it’s a movie, okay? This is extremely out of hand.
(I’m out shopping for Segway parts for my shrine right now, but when I get back we are going to have a very serious discussion. DO NOT PUBLISH THIS before I get back.)
