The Story, by Brandi Carlile
Hearing this song again today, driving in my car, I thought of heroism. The heroism that comes from seeking limits, working through them, beyond them, overcoming them. The words, the music are anthemic, elegiacal, rough and raw. The singing is rough and raw. Her voice cracks a bit, strains for those limits, strains to surpass them. The heroism of making a life, finding someone you want to remake your life for, finding someone you love enough to change yourself into someone they have to love. Because there is no other choice. There’s simply no choice.
That songs can do this is remarkable. That singers can do this, make me feel that connection, bring me into their own sense of limits and exceeding those limits, is beautiful, stirring, a mystery. That’s what art can do and this always knocks me out — thinking about that, knowing it happens sometimes …
This song is a perfect complement to the one above. Again, it’s raw. She wears her heart on her rolled-up sleeve. She is tough, completely vulnerable, innocent, worldly, a fighter against the odds. She sings like a female Whitman, Guthrie, Dylan. I hear Roy Orbison and Buddy Holly in her voice too. But she sings now.
Throw it all Away
