Good Grief! Patty Griffin and 1.000 Kisses' closeness to perfection

One side effect of the Best Album Eliminator game that is currently under way here at One Buck Records is it makes you ponder what makes an album great. I have some theories on the subject. The main condition: it has to be chock full of great songs, obviously. The ol' "All Killer, No Filler" mentality. Duh. And secondly, as more of a personal criteria, it should have its own inimitable mood, a coherent atmosphere that makes it an album, not just a collection of songs. Something that is distincly its own. 

So, by these, or any other criteria, does the perfect album even exist? And what about the ones that are almost perfect? How do you account for an album that almost gets there, right up to the finish line, but doesn't quite cross it? 

When I first heard Patty Griffin's 1.000 Kisses, I didn't expect much. I had fished it out of a bargain bin, vaguely remembering the name and a positive review that might or might not have been about this album. But the moment "Rain" came on, this album grabbed me, and wouldn't let go. It still doesn't. 

1.000 Kisses is, for the most part an album about broken hearts, due to a break-up, or even worse, due to staying together in a loveless relationship. A fearful symmetry links its cornerstones. Griffin's first words are "It's hard to listen to a hard, hard heart / beatin' close to mine". Six songs later, in "Nobody's Crying'" she bids adieu to a lover she has to send away: "It says that love is all gone / Every move I make is all wrong", while still being determined that sending him away despite her doubts is the best thing to do. 

When I check the back of the album, I always wonder how come I don't remember much, if anything, about the last two songs. And then I remember when I put them on, as they are genre pieces that don't have much to do with the rest of the album and, more to the point, are missing the emotional depth that the rest of the album has. I mean, it's totally fine to do a jazz-flavored torch song, then a Latin number, but these two songs absolutely break the spell that Griffin has woven before throughout those amazing first seven songs. There is one other cover song in the middle of that cycle, but it is much better chosen, and as emotional as Griffin's own songs: Her cover of "Stolen Car" arguably bests the original, outspooking the Boss' spooky tale of unfulfilled, despairing quest for redemption by a country mile. And the two closing numbers aren't bad, quite the opposite, but they don't fit with the rest of the bunch. That stuff I said above about the coherent mood? Exhibit A! 

But back to 1.000 Kisses. It's not all slow doom and gloom either, but even when Griffin picks up the pace a little bit, the undercurrent of deep emotions bubbling are in every song - whether it's the deceptively bouncy tale of a Native American war vet in "Chief" or the tale of an aged widow distracting herself from her grief by "Making Pies", 1.000 Kisses is an album that is all heart, tugging at yours at every turn. I might be a too emotional, or a wuss, or what have you, but at least one of the three emotional cornerstones of the album, "Rain", "Be Careful" or "Nobody's Crying" always choke me up. If it isn't done before, "Nobody's Crying" does it. There is something about the way she sings "I wish you well...on your way to the wishing well" that just gets to me. Every. Single. Damn. Time. 

That song also has one of the best run-on lines ever (or, if not a real run-on line, the best use of pauses for comedy-dramatic effect. When describing the lover she decided to get rid off the says that he was off fighting some demon...[Wait for it]...dragon...[WAIT FOR IT]...fly. Ha, she can be funny and dramatic and sad and comforting, all at the same time. And this isn't a studied, maximized for effect effort in weepiness, either, as most of the songs on the album where cut live with her band in the studio, which happened to be her guitarist's basement. And again, the two original closing numbers don't feature the same band that the first seven did, furthering the impression of being added to make up the album. So, without any regret I deleted these two, keeping the mood and spell of the album intact. At now only a little less than 30 minutes it's more of a mini-album, actually. But it'll be an amazing half hour, that I can promise.    

There are most definitely albums that are better than 1.000 Kisses, or more varied, or more groundbreaking. But I wouldn't miss the almost perfection of this album for the world. I bought other Patty Griffin albums, some of them very good. But it's not the same. There is a magic to 1.000 Kisses, or rather 8/10th of 1.000 Kisses (erm, 800 Kisses?!) that can't be replicated.