Review: Courtney Barnett - Sometimes I Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit
By Megan Fair, Copy Chief
[Mom+Pop; 2015]
Rating: 4.5/5
Key Tracks: “Pedestrian at Best,” “Depreston,” “Debbie Downer”
Sometimes I Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit is a masterpiece. Courtney Barnett’s witty, rambling, narrative-driven lyrics delivered with her raspy Australian drawl combine with the infectious, jangly guitar hooks and melodies to make an unforgettable combination of rock ’n’ roll, folk and blues that is impossible to forget and even harder to stop listening to.
The instrumentation on this album is a gritty, soulful expression of the traditional themes of blues and folk. The instrumental track for “Small Poppies” sounds right with Barnett’s lilting vocals, but it wouldn’t sound out of place if Big Mama Thornton was singing it either.
Barnett possesses an unmatched gift for spinning yarns that reflect seemingly insignificant moments in our daily lives. In every song we get a snapshot into a life, her storytelling abilities making each song its own complex square on the wonderful quilt that is Sometimes I Sit And Think. Barnett, through her stories and reflections, makes a strong evaluation of our present society and all its sources of anxiety.
The most aggressive track is “Pedestrian at Best,” a brutally honest rock ’n’ roll jam. Its energy is explicitly punk, the lyrics a mix of apathy and firm assertions. “Put me on a pedestal and I’ll only disappoint you / Tell me I’m exceptional, I promise to exploit you / Give me all your money, and I’ll make some origami, honey / I think you’re a joke, but I don’t find you very funny,” croons Barnett over a ripping chorus certainly meant to be the soundtrack for slamming beers and listening to your music way too loud. Inevitably, I find myself shouting alone as Barnett asserts, “I’m a fake / I’m a phony / I’m awake / I’m alone / I’m homely / I’m a Scorpio!” before tearing into the final chorus.
On the other end of her range, “Depreston” oozes contemplative existential crisis with its intimate and gentle riffing underneath a tale of visiting a potential house to live in and getting sucked into somber wondering about the life of the person who lived there before they passed away. The guitar slides in the bittersweet instrumental outro emulate the pensive time spent staring out the window of the car on the ride home from such an experience.
Another stand out is “Debbie Downer,” a brief jaunt toward the end of Sometimes I Sit And Think. Expressing the panic of aging in a nonchalant tone, Barnett sings, “I’m growing older every time I blink my eyes / Boring, neurotic, everything that I despise.” It’s hard not to be a sad sack in these tumultuous times when it’s hard to find a job even with a college education, growing up means facing mountains of debt and living alone, not to mention the onslaught of relationships which have become ever complicated in the fast-paced apathetic Internet Age of Tinder. Over a sunny melody, Barnett sings the relatable and raw lines, “Tell me when you’re getting bored and I’ll leave / I’m not the one who put the chain around your feet / I’m sorry for all my insecurities, they’re just a part of me.”
One of the greatest strengths of Sometimes I Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit is its ability to capture audiences young and old. As a 19-year-old college student, I’m infatuated with this record and have spun it many times since purchasing it, but I can say with certainty that my mom is going to love this album too. The crossover appeal of Barnett will snag fans young and old of rock, country, folk and blues, and rightly so; this album and Courtney Barnett are blossoming beacons of rock ’n’ roll greatness.
