"If the World was You"

If the World was You
2008
-by j.d. souther

As the songs on this album rolled past my ears for the first time, i felt a growing sense of disappointment. That impression was completely wrong, but back to that in a minute. Over the course of one day, i listened to a few tracks at a time. When i came to the last, the day was late and i was content to put off the final letdown until the morrow. I had recently heard j.d.'s ON THE BORDER anthology, and 2011's acoustic retrospective NATURAL HISTORY - these brilliant albums had primed me for a sweeping late-career artistic resurgence. J.d. had been a beloved figure on pop music's fringes...one of the creators of the california country rock sound, a contributing writer for some of the Eagles best songs, the sublime "Her Town Too" duet with james taylor...but what little i'd heard of his solo career (or Souther/Hillman/Furay) had been underwhelming.
When i hit the play button the following day on that final track, "The Secret Handshake of Fate", i was pretty sure i'd pass the disc on to my brother without another listen.
A month later, i still can't stop playing that song...and indeed the entire album. I'm sure most of us can relate to music we don't much care for upon first listen, but grow to love - which is what happened with the other cuts. But the final track is so off-the-charts brilliant, it evokes a small handful of songs that make such an instant impression, you forever remember exactly where you were the first time you heard them. You're wide-eyed with the instant recognition of sublimest brilliance. Is it on the short list of my desert island songs? Assuredly. At thirteen minutes, the only way you'll ever hear it on the radio is when i get my own show. It contentedly meanders its jazzy way around and around, which is a fitting reflection of the lyrics - salient, slyly salacious, and offbeat observations of human foibles. So startlingly perfect it's almost hysterical. The trumpet work by rod mcgaha takes some getting used to, because he doesn't sound the way trumpets are "supposed" to sound. This is a conceit and pitfall of popular music - certain styles of playing become accepted and expected. Mcgaha sounds so rough it's almost amateurish...but you finally realize he's simply doing it his way instead of aping armstrong or botti.
The other musicians (jeff coffin, chris walters, dan immel, jim white) play like they were plucked out of a jazz club you wish were in your neighborhood. Maybe your own ear won't need repeated listenings to realize that the other songs are brilliant, too. J.d. has never before been recorded this simply and beautifully.