[The New Classics is a reoccurring segment in which we examine our favorite indie releases that are bound to replace our parent’s “classic rock” stash hidden in the attic or the basement. These aren’t reviews, these are uneditied testimonies and opinions about why we love what we love. Can we get a witness?]

Artist: My Morning Jacket
Album:It Still Moves
Released: 2003
Label: ATO/RCA

Words by Christopher Carosi

I read on the Onion’s media blog, The A.V. Club, that Jim James recorded the vocals for It Still Moves in an old silo in Kentucky. Seriously? Soooo what you’re telling me here is that the reverb that defines (alright, defined) MMJ—reverb so soaking wet you have to dry yourself off after—was recorded live? That’s fucking insane. Sometimes I wonder if Jim James’ voice was given to him by the devil, and that his band are demons sworn to protect him in lieu of an international mission by the Knights Templar to restore this ungodly power to the Vatican (where it belongs?) to be kept in a sealed room with Jack White’s moustache and Thom Yorke’s wonky eye. I hear his voice and wonder about the crossroads. It makes sense to me.

My Morning Jacket / Mahgeetah
My Morning Jacket / Golden
My Morning Jacket / Steam Engine

It Still Moves could pertain, by title alone, to the things that go bump in the woods, the harbingers of the devil, or—as I like to think—it could pertain to the beauty inherit in music, especially this sort of music, this palette of southern rock & roll. I know Jim James’ published musical history, and I know how exploratory his taste is, and just bought Circuital, and I know that there are no rules to a man’s artistic adventure, and that he shall change as he changes, if only not to become stale. But goddamn it, when you listen to It Still Moves, and let it wash over you, just lying down on your bed or walking around, you get the sense of this complete joy and fullness and love of SOUND. It’s like a curse, and it’s something that new MMJ albums will always have to answer for no matter how good Jim James is at writing other types of songs.

The thing about It Still Moves that is bold as hell and also really risky is the structure of the songs. They sometimes have 2-3 movements each, and the songs always seem longer than they are. The hugeness of their sound, the psychedelic textures therein, and Jim James’ cosmic voice, make the songs sound absolutely monolithic. Even songs like “Golden,” which are as simple as the band allows with layers of acoustic guitars and up-tempo drums, have this extraterrestrial mode. A song about basic feelings (“What does it mean to feel? Millions of dreams come real”) stretch out over the hills and mountains. “Dancefloors”, “Masterplan”, “Run Thru”, and “One Big Holiday” have end-of-song jams that last and last, the idea of the song’s ending getting stretched and stretched, which to me destroys the sense of time. This never seems too indulgent. This is self-conscious music to be sure, a lot of the rhythms seem to throw the listener precisely here and there, making them aware of the song’s movement as movement. “Masterplan” has a star-shooting pre-chorus and then an actual mountain-splitting-riff-chorus right after, which is surprising and powerful. It is a perfect example of the self-conscious nature I’m talking about. The vocals are so beautiful yet unintelligible in some spaces and so everyone just puts all the instruments on an even keel. It should be noted that any great band that you don’t know what the singer is saying is probably affecting you unconsciously. The singer has tapped into some shamanistic state.

Side A ends with “I Will Sing You Songs,” that slows everything down absolutely, the guitar and vocal stretched as much as possible over the rhythm, making a 9-minute song seem like a week. You’re lulled to a child’s sleep by the time the song is just tinkling guitar samples. When “Easy Morning Rebel” rushes up, full of cowbells and trumpets, you’re jolted forward into a country-narrative. It’s apparent that MMJ has such mastery over song structure and genre that they can cram sci-fi, brass, and Lynryd Skynyrd into a 5 minute song and have you scooting around the apartment in your knickers for what seems like double that (er, uh, just excited, sitting down, nevermind). There are moments of smaller-scale love that get a nice spotlight in songs like “Just One Thing”, which could have fit nicely on At Dawn between “Honest Man” and “X-Mas Curtain”.

But the cop killer, the game changer, the song where the occult power lies hidden is “Steam Engine”. This song is so dramatically captivating that it’s an entire environment, not just a collection of sounds. I have no fucking clue what the song is about, but the dynamics are unquestionably cinematic and emotionally intense. The guitars weep between Patrick Hallahan’s hammer-like drumming, and Jim James sings ponderous lyrics above, which makes for repeated and differing listens. I have to say—and I know I say a lot of hyperbolic weird shit in this column—that the moment in “Steam Engine” where everything smashes together, where the song twists on itself, becoming this psychedelic wonderland, after Jim James sings, “The fact that’s my heart’s beating is all the proof you need!” might be my favorite moment in music of my life. One realizes the first 4-and-a-half minutes are simply a calculated preamble of blank sky before the fireworks. It’s one of those rare pieces of songwriting that houses just about every sensibility one can have. It’s an absurdly powerful song, and still a favorite after all these years.

It Still Moves captures MMJ at their most ruthlessly brilliant, heightening their sound to its maximum. It makes complete sense that they would tone things down, add some space and electronic texture, and call the follow-up album Z. I, no doubt, love that album too. But to pack this much might and back off is always disappointing, and I say that for a lot of things, not just bands, so that’s a fact of life. I listen to albums like Evil Urges and Circuital happily, with love for one of my favorite bands trying to find new avenues of domination. I look back through my collection and notice the title It Still Moves and a smile spreads on my face, knowing that title is as self-aware as any can be with a cover photo of a stuffed bear covered in glittery streamers, and that it’s speaking to me again.

I remember seeing these guys play in Philadelphia during their Evil Urges tour, and being pleased how they ripped through the new songs with such confidence. But obviously (and I was really excited to see this) they set the It Still Moves songs for the big hinge-moments of the set, closing their first with “Mahgeetah” and the encore with “One Big Holiday.” After those performances, the crowd is left gasping. We were completely rocked. I remember having this feeling of intense joy (I was sober as a jaybird too) just from the culmination of this ensemble. There’s no doubt this album will always stick around, and be the complete exploration of a band’s potential. 1 out of 1 Earth.

Couldn’t have said it any better than that. What’s your favorite MMJ album? Are Chris’s calculations correct? Leave us some comments and let us know what you think. If you need some more time to deliberate, spend it picking up this mammoth of an album at Insound.

Filed under: Mind Blowing, New Classics, Not Blake, Jim, or Brendan