I'm writing a feature for the NYPress on Will Oldham - one of my heroes and my go-to claim for the best songwriter of the last 25 years - and in preparation I received a promotional copy of his new record from Drag City. It arrived on Saturday afternoon after a long night of celebration and I actually walked with the package through the snow as I made my way to the coffeeshop in order to become human again. The cover was great. The note from Bonny's desk was great. I finished eating and headed upstairs to my apartment to listen. Watch as this becomes my first experience with a copy protected disc. At least twice per song a voice cuts into the record and announces: "You are listening to a promotional copy of Beware by Bonnie 'Prince' Billy." Watch as it becomes so bothersome that initial eyerolling turns to full body shakes each time the sound cuts out. Watch as I also point out that it doesn't stop the song in order to ruin all momentum. This is as if you were watching a movie and someone interrupts the video and sound for 10 seconds and decides to just leave that part out, because, really, what does it matter?
Copy protection is like the dirty virgin above. Like the virgin, the record will tease you with a simulation of reality. Yes, you have the real record except for these swaths of missing noise. Like the virgin, copy protection is a puzzle. Fill in those swaths with the lyric sheet you were graciously supplied with. Like the virgin, this disc is practically begging you to hit it (one way or another).
From what I can gather, Will Oldham has made another truly great record. It's expansive, cinematic and very well thought-out. The themes are massive as well as the instrumentation. I just can't get those promo voices out of my head. They'll haunt me, they'll haunt me.
