The titular sequence of Ari Folman’s animated documentary, Waltz with Bashir, is the sort of scene that is unlike what one might initially expect. Even if a person knows that it’s a film that depicts the atrocities of the 1982 Lebanon War, picturing Bashir Gemayel elegantly dancing in box steps with some partner is not exactly the depicted series of events. Those who have seen the film know how the waltz in question unfolds, and that it really has little to do with much of what the film is trying to convey. Without giving anything away, it is a scene that represents the pinnacle of wartime tension. Yet, this waltz is so dazzling, so precise, and so hypnotic, that it’s truly unforgettable for good reason.
The Benji in question on Sun Kil Moon’s should be perfectly forgettable, yet that hardly seems to be the case for Mark Kozelek. Much like the waltz with Bashir Gemayel, Kozelek’s memories of the 1974 canine Higgins vehicle, Benji, are surrounded by so many other firsts, like seeing the ocean, and discovering David Bowie. Yet, on Sun Kil Moon’s sixth album, movies and television in general play out as an important motif. As much as Kozelek’s lyrics reveal and confide, and which stand at the forefront of this album, the lyrics also spend a great deal of time discussing how their writer is just as much of an observer as anyone else. What that means is while Kozelek greatly details his own experiences and inner-feelings regarding formative moments in his life, a lot of what he discusses is about people he knows, and their stories. Benji is, more than any recent album, a true dedication to storytelling as an art form.
Musically speaking, Benji is not innovative, nor is it taking folk or alt. country in some fascinating direction. That is not to say Mark Kozelek’s arrangements are not worthwhile, because one would be remiss imply anything of that nature. In fact, the compositions on Benji – usually executed with nothing more than a guitar or two, as well as some backing harmonies, and perhaps a mandolin – are consistently beautiful, albeit repetitive. The latter term may come with negative connotations, but would only hold considerable weight if the display of musicality were meant to be particularly significant. Such is not the case.
How Benji sets itself apart is shockingly simple, yet strikingly noticeable. Where many modern albums, particularly those that are lauded for telling detailed, sprawling stories (i.e. Kendrick Lamar’s Good Kid, m.A.A.d. City, Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs, Janelle Monae’s Metropolis series, etc.) they take entire albums to encapsulate ideas and themes relevant to a certain era of the artists life, or to the lives of different characters. What makes Benji both very rich, yet tremendously more easy to consume, is that Mark Kozelek takes enough material for one album, turns that into one song, and then repeats the process until he has eleven workable songs.
Through direct lyricism, and an admirable vulnerability from Kozelek, what is a series of truly brave statements is also wonderfully effective. Track after track, we are given story after story that mark something truly special to Kozelek. Despite his own willingness to be so forthright, Kozelek is never so blatant as to explain the importance of his experiences. While the music peters away in the background, it is only a tonal backdrop for Kozelek’s prominent themes of morbidity, insecurity, unfairness, tragedy, and family. Quietly, yet assuredly, Benji draws in ears, and lends its earned and unassuming wisdom as it attempts these moments that are meaningful for Mark Kozelek meaningful to us.
Kozelek is not reinventing the wheel, so much as he’s altering the design. While his pseudo-freeform accounts of his life are not the first of its kind, Kozelek delves as intimately as he can in terms of details. The track that comes to mind (and that is slowly becoming the most resonant track from Benji) is the penultimate track, “Micheline,” near the end of the track, where Kozelek sings about the ocean and Young Americans, where he quickly rattles off these milestones and influences: These mementos to his distant youth. These subjects could be discussed ad nauseum, the same way that Arcade Fire can talk about large concepts so broadly, yet with such nuance. Before Benji, the only band I knew of that could write a truly effective and emotionally potent song about breaking up over text message was The National. Kozelek, through his signature approach to his music, could do the same, and probably better than Matt Berninger and co. The way Kozelek is able to match the proper musical backdrop with his stories, the way he can use his arrangements to direct listeners into the most pertinent aspects of his songs, and the way he presents his work with such honesty and confidence, makes for a truly unmatched experience.
But why? Why does Mark Kozelek feel the need to tell us about his life? Why does anyone care to hear these exact stories from this exact person? Why should anything he has to say matter by any measure? Obviously, these questions could apply to literally any artist who uses lyricism and storytelling as musical elements, but Kozelek is different. His delivery and style could loosely be described as mumblecore-operatic. These stories, after all, are supposed to be important, and their importance to Kozelek is prominently established. Kozelek is not saying everyone needs to take away the same lessons as he did. He’s not saying that anyone needs to agree with his choices, or that anyone needs to identify with him. How Benji succeeds is as a deeply human work of art. By appealing to the very act of living through the most typical and mundane experiences, and without any bit of pretension, Benji becomes so memorable because so much of it is so easy to find relatable. Kozelek is embracing the spirit of art, through introspection, through deliberate honesty, and through enviable tact. By going back to basics, Benji becomes something truly extraordinary. In an age where novelty is more and more fleeting, Benji’s unexpected simplicity is a reminder as to why music is such a rewarding and powerful medium.
