Iron & Wine – The Shepherd’s Dog

I always had such a difficult time with Sam Beam’s music. His first two albums are so quiet, so reserved, so solemn that I simply couldn’t dig deep into his complex songwriting. A few people I know (whom I trust in a musical manner) regard Beam as one of America’s greatest songwriters and honestly, I wouldn’t disagree with that notion. Although it took me to hear The Shepherd’s Dog to truly fall in love with his music, it is most definitely, some of the most compelling stuff you can find.

So imagine my surprise yesterday when here, at my birthday gathering/celebration, one of my many cousins reached over to the computer and found “Flightless Bird, American Mouth” to play. It had been so long since her and I had even discussed real, meaningful subjects on life and still, she had no reservations when saying that this will be the song she dances to on her wedding night. When I first heard this song, which is the closer here, I always assumed it was about the sad state America lives in, referred as a fat cat who knows he’s the ‘top dog’ but still, views the world from the misty view that there is nothing he can do to overcome it all. She shared that she feels it reflecting the moment where it finally hits you how amazing it is to find that special person that you simply, cannot live without and not just that but, knowing that they can’t live without you, when you yourself see yourself as nothing. That’s where he asks if he actually found his bird, flightless and all, and realizes that yes, she/he is hers/his. The lyrics are everything, here is one with the words included:


And it got me thinking about so many different things in life. How we have people in our lives who we will forever have a strong physical bond with (she is my aunt’s daughter, my mom’s sister, in very literal terms) and yet, we don’t really know them. We talked a lot and I found out that I have an amazing cousin that I need to really talk to more and that family is everything. And while we were here, mostly close friends and family (modest, I hope), it was great knowing that we can all get together, celebrate and rejoice in each other’s company. Thanks to everyone who made it that much more special – even after the rain poured for 30 minutes, even after the meat ran out, even after the beer ran out, even after the friends and cousins left and I was left here alone – it means a lot. Check out my beautiful cake, gifted from another cousin who brought it from the goodness of her heart.
So now, I still had to include another song off this album that I always connected with. One of 2007’s finest cuts, it was, again, where Beam and his new band broke out onto the scene. Critics paid attention because this was a progression in sound, a richer, more layered and textured album that could drawn people in for much more than just its words – and at the core of who it is and what it represents, it is an outstandingly musical album. I’m sorry for going too slow again but “Resurrection Fern” has to be my pick for the best off the album. If you can look up what the plant really is, it’s pretty awesome but as for the song’s meaning, beats me. For me, it reminds us how at the end of the day, all stripped down and with nothing else to hide behind of, we are all the same. We’re all fractured, fragile, frail people that have nothing more but our heart to give to others and through it’s Southern twang and Southern lyrics, too, it’s easily one of the most gripping songs on the album:


And oh yeah, Spain won. Hoo-ray! – Bryan