25 Albums I Can't Live Without: #25

Indigo Girls' self-titled album

A few months ago, I saw a post on some website where the site’s contributors did lists of the 25 albums they can’t live without. I didn’t bother looking at their lists because I was sure they would be full of those albums that hipsters insist that everybody listen to.

Instead, I decided to create my own list. So for the next 25 weeks, you’ll get to see what albums shaped me and why. Here we go…

#25: Indigo Girls, “Indigo Girls”

The Indigo Girls might be the least likely artist that you’d think I would like. Their lifestyle and politics are totally different from mine, after all.

But they grabbed my attention because they were from metro Atlanta and because they hit the national spotlight at a time when what they were doing was different from what you heard on pop radio.

The late ‘80s was a time of drum machines and hair metal, so organic, acoustic sounds were an easy way to grab attention and distinguish yourself from the crowd.

Of course, the song that got the most radio play was “Closer to Fine.” The spiritual seeking of the song stood apart from the subject matter of most radio hits.

There was a notable rawness to the production, the vocals, and the instrumentation, and that grabbed my attention. The poetic nature of the lyrics piqued the curiosity of this creative (and sometimes pretentious) teenager.

Kelly McCartney writes at AllMusic, “To attempt examinations of these songs would not do them justice, for the layers of meaning and emotion unfold best upon repeated listening.” It’s a good description, even if it gives reviewers a cop-out.

As a Christian, “Prince of Darkness” resonated with me. It still does.

What makes “Indigo Girls” work is the contrast of Amy Ray and Emily Saliers’ voices. Ray’s edgy alto helps convey the folk-ish urgency, while Saliers’ softer tone conveys a different sound. Well, that’s the case most of the time.

From beginning to end, “Indigo Girls” holds up well today and rarely sounds dated. The most impactful songs are the ballads.

The closer, “History of Us,” gives me chills every time.

And “Blood and Fire” packs an emotional wallop that’s tough to overcome.

Like I said at the beginning, the Indigo Girls and I don’t have a whole lot in common, but that 1989 album is still worth listening to time and time again.

Photo credit: Bryan Ledgard, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons