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Greg & Elijah
Elijah’s Top 10 Albums of 2016
10. Nattesferd Kvelertak — Listening to Nattesferd, Kvelertak’s third full length album, is something like travelling back in time. The album is a marked departure from aural onslaught of their previous record (2013’s Meir, produced by one of my all-time favies, Converge’s Kurt Ballou). Don’t get me wrong, Nattesferd is an onslaught, but of a much different nature. Fears that Kvelertak might be headed toward a more mainstream rock sound are allayed continually throughout this 47-minute masterclass in capturing the familiar energy, precision and fun of the American heavy metal sound of the early eighties and the aggression and fullness of the Norwegian black metal sound of the 21st century without losing any of their respective charms.
9. Puberty 2 Mitski — There are two distinctive threads running through Puberty 2. Firstly, there is innovation and a refusal to adopt a singular form of songwriting. Mitski demonstrates that she can write high quality and accessible pop tunes (see ‘Your Best American Girl’) whilst verging on proto-grungey post-punk (see ‘My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars’) and occupying more familiar, yet refreshing indie territory in between. The second thread demonstrates that Puberty 2‘s variety is not the result of simply compiling tracks from across a repertoire — this is Mitski’s fourth album. Looking past the fact that she’s only 25 (what have we done with our lives?), Mitski is demonstrating that she is a seasoned and consummate artist.
8. Next Thing Frankie Cosmos — Next Thing is the epitome of ‘big things in small packages’. This album lasts under a half an hour, with the longest of its fifteen tracks lasting only 164 seconds (that’s 2:44). But the listener will not feel cheated. Somehow, Frankie Cosmos (22-year-old Greta Kline) is able to capture complete, common, yet complicated thoughts with each track. In fact, the album is summed up quite well by the cover. As you can see, the perspective of the image is from that of a passenger in a car, doodling in a notebook. At the same time, the passenger is revealed to be using a mobile to take a photograph – captured as the cover image itself. The car is veering left, perhaps making a turn to the ‘Next Thing’. We also observe typical things – a fallen tree branch, a littered plastic bag, paw prints, a car driving off in the distance. It’s a brilliantly simple yet interesting composition, much like the record.
7. Skeleton Tree Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds — This album, as so many albums on my list this year, caught me by surprise. I first heard ‘Jesus Alone’ on 6 Music on 2 September and I knew Skeleton Tree was going to be special. The production was sparse and moving. Cave had moved from his typical narrative formula (in the accompanying documentary, One More Time with Feeling, Cave claims that he has lost his faith in narrative-based songs). The rest of the album reflects these shifts. With both the stirring words and ambient musical tone, Cave is reflecting on a profound sense of loss (having lost his young son Arthur in the summer of 2015) and engaging in some serious existential inquiries. So really, Skeleton Tree is not so atypical of Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds after all.
6. Teens of Denial Car Seat Headrest — There’s been a slight tendency toward slacker rock in my listening this past year. It’s probably a hangover from 2014’s GARAGE ROCK BONANZA. When Car Seat Headrest’s Teens of Denial first appeared on my radar, I despised the names of both the band and the album. But as with a lot of things in life, those become invisible or at least inconsequential to an individual once a relationship is solidified. I could write a lot about this record, but Greg expresses it so well that I’ll cede the floor to him for this one (see Greg’s comment on Teens of Denial below).
6. Painting of a Panic Attack Frightened Rabbit — A familiar face. I’m going to be honest here: when I first heard this record I was convinced that I would consider it nearly, if not the weakest Frightened Rabbit album to date. Something about it fell flat for me. So I put it away for a few months. Maybe six months. Then I picked it up again – I knew there had to be something I was missing. Even upon the first re-listen I asked myself, ‘Was I even paying attention?’ It was as if I had never heard these songs. And they were actually quite good! Maybe you share my initial impression. If you have not got back to Painting of a Panic Attack, I implore you to give it another shot. I admit that there are times when it feels less adventurous/emotionally porous than FR’s other material, but there is a quality to the songwriting (thanks to the ever insightful pen of Scott Hutchison) and production (thanks in part to the National’s Aaron Dessner) that keeps me listening.
4. Emotions and Math Margaret Glaspy — Margaret Glaspy’s debut album makes one wonder, what comes next? Emotions and Math is as competent and complete as a veteran release. That’s not say that Glaspy has gone stale – far from it! She touches on Aimee Mann and Elliott Smith in equal measure and brings her own sophisticated musical sensibilities to the table in well packaged yet positively aggressive and unpolished pop rock tunes. Emotions and Math improves upon subsequent listens and leaves us thirsty for what Glaspy will do next.
3. A Moon Shaped Pool Radiohead — I’ve done the maths and have discovered that the period between The King of Limbs and A Moon Shaped Pool is the longest gap between Radiohead albums since their first release, way back in 1993. That’s five years, two months and 20 days between KoL and AMSP! I know it might not seem like much, but perhaps you will remember that long gap between Hail to the Thief and In Rainbows – a mere four years, four months and one day. Okay, maybe it’s not so much about the quantity of time between records as it is the quality of material on each record that leaves us thirsting for more. The King of Limbs has its charms, including the special edition packaging, featuring the world’s first (and probably last) ‘newspaper edition’. But it fails to reach the bar set by previous releases, especially since In Rainbows seems to have become so loved amongst the Radiohead intelligentsia. But A Moon Shaped Pool proves to be not so much a simple return to form as it is a uniquely profound yet thoroughly ‘Radiohead’ collection of haunting and atmospheric orchestrations. It is unassuming, gritty, yet polished. It is all the things for which we admire Radiohead and with an added expanse of lyrical coherence.
2. My Woman Angel Olsen — Angel Olsen is another familiar face among my end-of-the-year picks. Her previous record, Burn Your Fire for No Witness, was my third favourite album of 2014. When an artist produces something as good as Olsen’s previous outing, it’s difficult to know how to approach subsequent releases. Should one set high standards only to be disappointed or should one go in expecting the worst? I was still weighing out this question when I first heard My Woman. According to Olsen, the album’s themes revolve around ‘the complicated mess of being a woman’. As one who does not self-identify as a woman, I believe this album also has plenty of energy to contribute to ‘the complicated mess of being a human’. Olsen’s lyrical, vocal and musical presence is stronger than ever and the record seems to hold together more fully than her earlier releases. In complete self-awarness, she addresses themes of despair, broken expectations and ultimately, hope, all borne with her trademark wit and defiant boldness.
1. Masterpiece Big Thief — It’s been a while since I’ve been so completely surprised by an album. There are great albums from great artists that I can see coming from miles away (such as Sufjan Stevens’ masterful Carrie & Lowell from 2015) and there are the general surprises that make me a new fan (such as Emotions and Math and Teens of Denial above). But then there’s something like Big Thief’s Masterpiece. I had already heard the album before I realised it was released on Omaha-based Saddle Creek Records, which might have coloured my first listen with Midwestern angst. But the Midwestern angst found me over the course of that first listen. I grant that this is all becoming a wee bit self-indulgent for an Angeleño-Glaswegian commenting on an album from a Brooklyn-based band that reminds him of the American Midwest. (To give me some tenuous credit, singer/guitarist Adrianne Lenker is from Minneapolis.) But there are serious, though probably unintentional musical and vocal hints of the Anniversary (1997-2004) among others, which is enough to send me spiraling into an adolescence-fueled hunt for a [misplaced] sense of ‘authenticity’. Because of these fleeting emotions, I feel some sort of shame that I can’t help but make this album my top pick of 2016. Beyond these fleeting emotions, Masterpiece is an album with superior breadth and depth, musically and thematically, driven by Lenker and Buck Meek’s vocals and guitars, completely deserving of any scanty honour that I may offer. It will haunt me well into 2017, which, unlike UK and American politics, is no bad thing.
- Love Muscle and Marrow
- You Want it Darker Leonard Cohen (1934-2016)
- Slow Forever Cobalt
- Blackstar David Bowie (1947-2016)
- Air Astronoid
Greg’s Top 10 Albums of 2016
10. Everything At Once Travis — Elijah may be holding his nose with this choice, but I felt like these Scottish lads (who’ve been together for 26 years!) finally found their way back to the simple, lovely tunefulness of their turn of the century apex (The Man Who, The Invisible Band) with this strong release. I’m a sucker for the gentle melancholic hopefulness of Fran Healy’s voice (check out 2:03 on this video) and shimmering indie instrumentation of the band.
9. Winter Lives Matt Pond PA — I have a weak spot for this chamber-pop troubadour. He once again demonstrates a songwriting brilliance that has made me love his poppy, life-affirming tunesmithery over the years. His voice has such a perfect sincerity and tone, the lyrical nostalgia of songs like ‘The Glow’ and ‘Whoa (Thirteen and Sledding with Kerry in Northern New Hampshire)’ warmed my sentimental heart, and the arrangements are solid and masterful.
8. Light Upon the Lake Whitney — You listen to this album and you wonder, what time-machine did these guys fall out of with their perfect falsetto over tight bass/drum combo and 60’s & 70’s guitar sounds. They may be aching for those ‘golden days’ but for my money, they’ve captured them quite perfectly here.
7. Arranging Time Pete Yorn — Ah Pete Yorn, yet another brilliant songwriting flame from the early 2k’s that had somewhat flickered out over the years (a la Travis). But he found that former fuel somewhere and picked up right where musicforthemorningafter left off with this new release. Check out tracks 1-3, ‘Shopping Mall’ and ‘Walking Up” for shambling, big-hearted, melodic indie goodness.
6. Not To Disappear Daughter — Oh her voice just slays me from the first word to the last: like smoke hitting a rain-covered window. Her elegant lyrical delivery taps into the deepest sadness you could imagine, but then soars into the sun over a cascade of guitars and throttling drums (check this video out, as well as this one and fail to be impressed).
5. A Moon Shaped Pool Radiohead — This collection of songs (arranged alphabetically it seems) took a bit to grow on me. Initially, I thought it was just some stray songs they’d never really finalized that they’d figured they would finally put on a record, but as I listened more carefully, it opened itself up to me—a staggering heartbreak woven through with gorgeous orchestration and unexpected turns of phrase and melody. They are back at the heights of their powers after the floundering The King of Limbs.
4. The Birds Outside Sang Florist — This is just a gentle, artless, and moving reckoning of dealing with the aftermath of a serious accident. The singer’s voice is fragile, child-like, but full of wonder and hard won wisdom…remembering the light coming into the room where she lay recovering, re-imagining the moment of the accident, but also whimsically meditating on the beauty and capriciousness of life. The instrumentation is lo-fi guitar strumming, Casio keyboard humming, and some droning organs, with the occasional full-band kicking in to make a point. It’s just so sweet and tender—the mending of a confused soul. (You can sample the record here. I particularly love the title track.)
3. Painting of a Panic Attack Frightened Rabbit — Ok, earlier I had told Elijah this wouldn’t probably be on the upper half of my top 10, but as I’ve gone through and listened again to the 12 tracks, it really is strong (I was basing my early sense of the album on the deluxe edition with 3 extra b-side worthy tunes). I think I was initially turned off by some of the ‘radio-friendly’ tendencies I was picking up (‘Get Out’, ‘An Otherwise Disappointing Life’) and though it loses it’s way a bit on the second half, man, when you listen to ‘Death Dream’ and ‘I Wish I was Sober’ and ‘Still Want To Be Here’ and ‘400 Bones’, it’s clearly the same undeniable genius we’ve celebrated on their last 3 albums.
2. Are You Serious Andrew Bird — I’ve always been a fan of the Birdman, but sometimes his meandering obscurity (addressed here on the title track: ‘Used to be so willfully obtuse / or is the word abstruse? / Semantics like a noose / get out your dictionaries’) and multi-layered loop tracks could sometimes become a bit tiresome. Here, he is the TIGHTEST he’s ever been with a strong backing band, streamlined songwriting, and his most straightforward reflections (‘this is all non-fiction’) delivered sincerely alongside delicious whistled melodies. It’s an almost perfect album (save the two-chord gruelling groove ‘Truth Lies Low’).
1. Teens of Denial Car Seat Headrest — I resisted listening to this album for a long time, despite (or because of?) the accolades coming in from various quarters of musicdom. I can’t remember what made me give in, but I’m so glad I did not hold out one moment longer. This is a concept album about a troubled teen exploring some deep universal themes (mortality, depression, anxiety) and others more teen angst-y (experimenting with drugs, drunk driving, relationship drama). The vocalist sounds (and reads) like two parts Ray Davies (Kinks), one part Beck, one part Stephen Malkmus (Pavement) with a dash of Black Francis (Pixies) to taste. The sound of the record is a blend of 90’s alternative rock (open chords through chunky overdrive pedal; double-tracked vocals) mixed with kind of a classic rock aesthetic (hello cowbell!), but as with all of the artists on this list, the song is king (the only number I’m not crazy about is the nearly 8 minute jam ‘Vincent’). This kid is only in his early 20’s but, to my ears, he has already been writing songs for years that hold their own with the greatest ever written.
- 22, A Million Bon Iver — I actually like this experimental collection from the falsetto king, but it just didn’t seem substantial enough to qualify as a full-length LP—it’s only like 22 minutes and 22 seconds long (hey wait a second, that was on purpose!!).
- Young Mood Colt — It really is a great collection of songs—I just couldn’t get over the singer’s grating, narcoleptic baritone voice.
- I also didn’t find the time to listen more carefully to a few records from artists I admire (Remember Us to Life Regina Spektor and Ruminations Conor Oberst, so they perhaps would have ended up on this list had I given their albums some attention). I also want to keep my ears tuned to the Spanish alt/indie band Mourn, who had a so-so album come out, but have potential to be a great band in the days ahead.
- Painting With Animal Collective — Not as bad as 2012’s Centipede Hz, this album still failed to make much of a dent in the AC canon, which is so disappointing as I love this band so much.
- Mangy Love Cass McCombs — I swing back and forth on this guy from album to album, but I almost felt like he was pranking his audience with this collection of his usual esoteric lyricism put to “easy listening” accompaniment. It won many fans in a wide range of music critics, but I’m calling the Emperor’s New Clothes on this one.
- Here Teenage Fanclub — Oh how I love these Scottish indie gods, but this album, their 10th LP, bored me to tears.
The present Western culture is largely ‘post-Christian’, fed up with the tired dogmas of the past. One common mistake made by the Christian community is to try to revamp the relevance of Christianity through massive immersion. The thought is (in an admittedly crudely-reduced form) that if we flood the world with Bibles and ‘the Gospel message’ the Christian community will finally end up back on top, like the idyllic golden age during which God was the ruler of the world. Unfortunately the Christian ideal has never been a part of reality. People may look back at post-war America in the 1950s and conclude, “That was a good time. People were decent. It was the 1960s that brought about our current distress. Abortion, homosexuality and the utter moral corruption of Western society.”
It is not my attempt to provide a thorough analysis of Western society since World War II, but I will point out that the heart of Christianity has never been about this set of morals, morals defined and packaged for Evangelical Christians by the Religious Right in the 1980s. The principal response of the Christian community seems to be pointing the finger. In his book, The Post-Christian Mind, Harry Blamires tends to point out that the problems facing the Christian community during this time are not the fault of the Christian community itself. He writes,
If we are to examine from the inside the machinery of contemporary error, we must step outside of our theological skins. Everything that gives shape and meaning to our conception of the span of human life derives from a system of beliefs that the post-Christian mind rejects. The Christian finds the ultimate meaning of things outside time, outside the boundaries of our earthly human career.
(Harry Blamires, The Post-Christian Mind [London: SPCK, 2001], 3.)
I’m afraid that Mr Blamires is mistaken on several counts. As the rest of his book points out, he generally defines “Everything that gives shape and meaning to our conception of the span of human life” as a set of morals based upon family values. For instance, he harps on the attack against the sanctity of marriage. While I agree that the value of marriage has been greatly reduced in Western society, I believe that the Christian community is largely at fault. By this, I mean that the Christian community has not demonstrated a great apologetic for marriage, giving no standard by which to critique the ‘secular’ tendency to divorce. My second main issue with Mr Blamires’ words has to do with a general presupposition concerning the utter ‘otherness’ of the Christian life, one in which we find “the ultimate meaning of things outside time, outside the boundaries of our earthly human career.” While God is most certainly greater than our realm, he is also very present and committed to time and space, which is most fully demonstrated in the Incarnation, the giving of the Holy Spirit, the advent of the Church and the rapid expansion of his universal kingdom.
Still, this tendency toward perceiving ourselves so fully identified with this ‘otherness’ helps the Christian community to embrace a false sense of exile. In such a way, the Christian can justify societal rejection based upon the life of Christ. Michael Frost in his book Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture, writes,
I suspect that the increasing marginalization of the Christian movement in the West is the very thing that will wake us up to the marvellously exciting, dangerous, and confronting message of Jesus.
(Michael Frost, Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture [Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2006], 9.)
This is very close to what I think we need to hear, but the language of ‘exile’ is too heavy-handed. Frost is very glad to leave what he considers the “Christendom era”. To set ourselves apart from the Christian tradition and to adopt what we consider to be ‘the message of Christ’ is dangerous. This is a mistake primarily because ‘the message of Christ’ is convoluted, and if we limit this message solely to the Scripture (as is by-and-large the practice of Protestantism) we undermine the very nature of Scripture. Scripture was not given to the Christian community as a tool by which we can live without the Church. That old Lutheran ideal, Sola Scriptura simply does not account for the robustness of the Christian presence throughout history. We are dealing with a living God and a living Church.
While Christianity is something very contrarian, we cannot accept that we are so holy and counter-cultural that exile is a result of our ‘doing things right’. The Christian community could do well by listening to the culture in a self-critical way. Unfortunately, I believe that this can be done wrong. In fact, I believe that the Christian community is experiencing its present dilemma because it has been taking the things of God, the way we rehearse the Gospel, the way we understand our role in this world, and severely altering it based upon our preconceived notions of how things should be. For instance, during the time of the Reformation, Calvinists began to wear black, not initially to express modesty, but to align the clergy with academia, showing that the Reformed priests were educated, unlike the Catholic priests who wore colourful vestments based upon the seasons within the Church year.
Changing our faith based upon preconceived notions has had far more adverse effects than the clerical wear of the Reformers, the most tragic of which I believe is the castration of the Gospel. What I mean by this is that the far-reaching effects of the Gospel have been greatly minimised in order to attend to the desires of Western culture. The culmination of Christ’s life, death and Resurrection has moved from an incredible cosmic event in which the transformation of the universe was initiated and the Church created and redeemed into a hyper-individualistic ticket to a spiritual heaven paradise. Was not the God of the Nicene Creed the God who created all things, visible and invisible?
Christianity is not a set of morals, it is not a set of mental suppositions and it is not a social programme – it is God’s transformative initiative in the universe, the Gospel. The Gospel is therefore the heart of Christianity and the heart of the Gospel is love. Perhaps the primary reason why Christianity has experienced such a drop in public sentiment is because love, and consequently the Gospel, has been corrupted and void of much of its usefulness. Now I will neither deny the sincerity of the entirety of the Christian community nor the power of God as demonstrated through even the most meagre of Gospel proclamations. We are fortunate that God is far more powerful and mysterious than our systems of belief, no matter how informed or refined.
What I am going to propose will not change the fact that God is far more than we comprehend on a daily basis, but I do hope that, as should be the case in any theological endeavour, this exercise will serve to draw us as the Christian community closer to the heart of God and his mission to the world. His mission is not one of ‘add-ons’. Being a Christian is not an ‘app’ one can purchase for their iPhone. Being a Christian is neither a new t-shirt nor a whole new wardrobe. Being a Christian is a radical transformation and orientation toward the will of God.
Love is the central tenet of the Gospel – God loves the universe he created. The existence of anything is contingent upon the grace and love of God and for us God demonstrated this love most tangibly through the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. Throughout the whole of Scripture God demonstrates his love, and Christ, when asked by a Pharisee, “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” responds, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22:34-40, NRSV)
In theory, the Christian community accepts most of these things with open arms, but the magnitude of what ‘love’ means is where the real weakness of the present Gospel takes shape. Perhaps a more revealing passage is found in the Sermon on the Mount,
You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
A pious Christian might call out an “Amen!” without thinking twice about this passage, but I believe a more honest response might be, “Oh shit, we’re doing it wrong.”
Indeed, the love of Christ is not some half-hearted commitment not to hate. The Christian community has a propensity to take the positive commands of God and turn them into negative commands. Instead of this radical calling ‘to love everyone’ we turn it into a meagre calling ‘not to hate anyone’. Even then we must weaken our definition of hate and say, “Well I don’t hate anyone, I simply dislike some people.” Whether we define our lack of love as ‘hate’ or ‘dislike’, we are still missing the point – we are called to love.
But we must also understand that the love of Christ is a very complex thing. God does not suspect that we will master his greatest commandment with relative ease. To love in the way that the Christian community is called to love involves a daily dependence on God’s strength and guidance by way of his Holy Spirit. We can hardly even begin to imagine what it is to love in the way that God demonstrated through Christ. Even on the Cross in the midst of his persecutors tradition maintains that Jesus requests of his heavenly Father, “forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 24:34) Jesus’ love is a radical love, and it was a love that brought about massive transformation: reconciliation between God and people (‘love your God’), reconciliation between people and other people (‘love your neighbour’; ‘love your enemy’), reconciliation within individuals toward themselves and reconciliation between people and the creation. The greatest commandments can summarise this grand reconciliation. If we love God in the freedom granted by the work of Christ we will love the entirety of his creation because he has created, loved and redeemed it. This holistic reconciliation in the Gospel can be used to counter the neo-Gnostic trajectory of contemporary Christianity.
When considering the implications of these reconciliatory principles, the unfathomable depth of the love God has for us and the love that God has called the Christian community to, I believe that a it is a good exercise to seek to see it all from the perspective of the Cross.
When your parents have failed you miserably
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When a friend betrays you
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When a co-worker spreads a rumour about you
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When a stranger cuts you off on the road
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When you see the homeless person on the street
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When someone succeeds as you fail
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When your significant other does not see your point of view
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When your child disobeys you
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
When you give into the temptation yet another time
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
In all things
Remember Christ’s love on the Cross.
Be transformed by Christ’s love on the Cross.
Exploring and employing the implications of God’s love is an eternal task, but I end this post with these thoughts: To be a Christian is to be a subject in God’s kingdom and to be a subject in God’s kingdom requires one thing: robust obedient love. This world can only ever benefit from more love. Nothing in this world ever went bad nor will anything ever go bad because there was ‘just too much love’.
“Random thoughts on Valentine’s Day 2004. Today is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap.”
Jim Carrey as Joel Barish from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry, 2004).
The film itself is a masterpiece. The screenplay by Michel Gondry and Charlie Kaufmann is incredible. The surrealistic and deconstructed story telling really gives the viewer a very unique cinematic experience while remaining extremely logical and precise. The acting of Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet (as well as the supporting cast – David Cross as Rob, “Carrie, I am making a birdhouse”) is top notch, while the score by Jon Brion is imaginative, beautiful and haunting. These many strengths are often the focus of reviews, but what I believe is the most compelling aspect of this film is the unique way that it uses science fiction to explore and communicate some of the most profound thoughts on the nature and possibilities of love.
Warning: plot spoilers follow. Throughout the film we see the breakdown of the relationship shared by the two main characters, Joel and Clementine, except in reverse as Joel’s memories of the relationship are being systematically erased during a [science] fictional medical procedure. Throughout the reliving of these memories we experience the real frustrations that Joel and Clementine faced as two very different people sharing life together (Joel being generally presented as more reserved, simple and logical, while Clementine is generally presented as free-spirited, impulsive and emotional).
In the end (chronologically), Joel and Clementine (who have both had their relationship erased via the procedure) have subconsciously ended up at the same place, Montauk, where they had originally met some two years prior. They begin to hit it off despite the obvious personality differences, but later on discover that they had previously dated for two years and they listen confusedly to separate recordings they had made before the procedure, explaining why each wanted to erase the relationship from their respective memories. Throughout the film we have discovered exactly why Joel and Clementine have fallen apart, but we have also witnessed unique and profound experiences that the two have shared, leaving us regretful for their inevitable break-up.
Still, Joel and Clementine determine:
Clementine “I’m not a concept, Joel, I’m just a fucked up girl who’s looking for my own peace of mind. I’m not perfect.”
Joel “I can’t see anything that I don’t like about you.”
Clementine “But you will.”
Joel “Right now I can’t.”
Clementine “But you will, you know, you will think of things. And I’ll get bored with you and feel trapped because that’s what happens with me.”
Joel “Okay.” Joel is content.
Clementine “Okay,” Clementine smiles and agrees, “okay.”
Highlighted by Beck’s amazing cover of The Korgis’ ‘Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime’, this ending always leaves me in tears because of the incredible way it presents life. Life is that dialectical tension between the broken and the beautiful, and in God’s grace the broken is made beautiful. Similarly, the tension of the Gospel is that the wholly-other God, unknowable by a broken universe, has effectively participated in human suffering in Jesus Christ and has invited the broken universe to know him, and in knowing him the broken universe is recreated. In the end, Joel and Clementine accept a love that is not ‘perfect’ by many standards, a love that is neither about the perfect timing nor about the perfect compatibility, but a love that is based upon a simple, yet profound commitment between two broken people – “Okay.” “Okay”, knowing full well that they will hate a lot of the other person and “Okay” knowing that to love is ultimately worthwhile.