Recently, I acquainted myself with a lovely, extraordinary artist named Courtney Barnett. If you haven’t done so, I can’t recommend her enough. To compare her to Bob Dylan and Neil Young would be easy; this singer/songwriter is carving her own unique style. She’s best defined by her lyrics: mundane yet somehow fascinating, beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.
Her music is distinctly Australian, which might be the reason I’m drawn to it, deftly uttering her words with a day-dreamy quality, delivered with that dry Aussie accent. The lyrics are often wry observations of everyday affairs, but with an extra dose poignancy and insight. In the grunge hit “Pedestrian At Best”, Barnett is seemingly possessed with ambivalence, lecturing her thoughts with an alluring sense of urgency.
My internal monologue is saturated, analog
It’s scratched and drifting
I’ve become attached to the idea, it’s all a shifting dream
In “Kim’s Caravan” she takes a darker turn, expressing discontent for her milieu and questioning the construct of perspective.
I drank ’til I was sinking, sank ’til I was thinking
That I’m thankful for this view
Don’t ask me what I really mean
I am just a reflection
Of what you really wanna see
Barnett’s debut album, Sometimes I Sit and Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit, is understandably taking the music scene by storm with excellent reviews from critics and listeners alike. If you’re one of those people who likes to buy music, do yourself and Courtney a favour: purchase this album, sit, listen and think.