Jason Lytle
Yours Truly, The Commuter
Anti

Yes, a life sign from Lytle again, one year after his Fambly Cat demos, and two years after Grandaddy's sudden and quiet demise. Yours truly, Lytle, is back, with more of his trademark, slightly elevated, elegantly laidback space-pop.

Yours Truly, The Commuter is a collection of 12 new songs from Lytle, from out of his new Montana HQ. A hermit life? Well, the new material sounds slightly more sparse than the Grandaddy years, giving the feeling of a true 'solo' album, with Lytle doing most of (everything?) of the instruments involved. Mainly acoustic guitars, a soothing piano, some warm, flowering electronics (his favourite play-toys), loose-fit drum rolls (even drum machines can be sounding humane). Sort of like a high plain and mountainside cabin project as, say, Bon Iver, even though it's far from being that brittle and whispering. Sadness is definitely present, but the atmospheres are happy-sad and the sentimentality is sane and sober. Of the best songs I'd say you'll find: the excellent "Ghost Of My Old Dog"; the 'hit-potent' (Lytle-style), heart-warming and wonderful "Brand New Sun" (which sounds so like a Grandaddy song, you could swear you've heard it before - like one of the best Grandaddy songs you've never heard before); the majestic, opening title track; the more electric, up-tempo "It's The Weekend" (simply because an album like this need a rougher break); the gentle (after a short, schizoid intro) piano ballad "This Song Is The Mute Button"; and the closing ballad "Here For Good". Not to forget the tender and happy-sad "I Am Lost (And The Moment Cannot Last)" and the sugar-coated melancholia of "Birds Encouraged Him".

Yours Truly, The Commuter is a most pleasing album, and it's a pleasure to welcome Jason Lytle's first solo outing. Lytle pop gems. Melodies of a lo-fi nature, with a big heart. Even though it sometimes sounds a bit broken. Broken and mended. As the title song's opening line goes:
"The last thing I heard I was left for dead, well I could give two shits about what they said, I may be limping but I'm coming home..."

Copyright © 2009 Håvard Oppøyen