The new War on Drugs album is almost too beautiful. I don't even really know what to say. I get this feeling that in a little over four months I'll be writing about how this is the album of the year. I knew it was going to be: I'm a pretty big fan of both Wagonwheel Blues and the Future Weather EP.

Actually, that's sort of an understatement. It's more like this: when I think of music that perfectly captures the feeling in my head when I'm happy, when I'm truly content, those moments when I'm so impossibly calm that my life seems absurdly lucky, that is what The War on Drugs sounds like to me. Peace, love, and understanding. The hyperbolic stillness of a quiet moment rustled by a gentle summer breeze. A car drive down the coast with all the windows down. I think I've said this before... in another life.

It's pretty clear from the press copy about the album that Adam Granduciel and company have put a lot of work into this album. Every instrument, every reverb saturated moment of this album feels certain and sure. It feels relaxed and easy going, like there was never any other direction a song could go in; this is just naturally what comes out when Adam sits down in front of a steady, driven beat, with his piano and his guitar in his hands. At the same time, it's just so damn beautiful it must have taken forever to get it that way, right?

So much of it just sounds like a pleasant dream. I want to lie in bed and let it fill my head with soft colors. Strangely, they are the same soft colors and memories present in the Urban Outfitters produced music video. Such a synergy of vision fills me with hope: I am not alone. Other people listen to this music, and they feel the same thing. What I am saying to you right now, someone else can understand, because the feeling emoted by the music is felt by all of us in almost the same way. That's beautiful, maaaaaaaaan.

I can't listen to this album without feeling certain that it's going to be a big deal. At least that's my hope. I hate for the bands I really love to become very successful, because then their concerts become expensive and full of douchebags, but at the same time I want everyone to hear this album. I want to hear it coming out of the windows of other cars when I'm driving down the street. I want to be inside Jack in the Box and go, "Really? Am I actually hearing The War on Drugs on the radio?" I guess I could just go to Urban Outfitters.

I worry that there is not enough peace and love in the world for an album this great to be loved by many. I recently watched Easy Rider, and the memory of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Cool Hand Luke has left me feeling kind of like the world is a disturbing, scary place, full of people just waiting to screw you over for stepping out of line. The War on Drugs becoming the next big thing in the musical realm I exist in, well, maybe that would prevent my eventual slide into reclusiveness.

You can stream the whole album over at Urban Outfitters.

P.S. Hey guys: please play in LA again. Seeing you at the Echo once was not enough. Though the chick who couldn't play tambourine to save her life up on stage was pretty funny.

You can download this song for free! by clicking on the album art.

It's lyric discovery time_!_ At 1:08 the lyrics go:

"He said I'm taking the farm out from under your knees / said I'm taking the air and ...

Taking the air and what? Here's what I got: "and the ? that you're leaning upon" so I'm just missing a word. I leave it to you, dear readers, what is he singing? Whoever guesses it can go update the lyrics on SongMeanings.

I missed so many good albums last year. I don't think I should do a "Best of 2009" so far this year as I am so slow on the uptake. My music discovery comes in violent spurts, where I ravenously devour gobs of music in a short amount of time and then wallow in it for a while until I feel that I need something new to catch my fancy. Sometimes it takes me a while to put my ear to the rail. I somehow missed all the hype in 2004 and didn't discover Arcade Fire until about this time of year in 2005. If I had a hipster badge, I would turn it in.

Would this song have ended up in my Best of 2008? Probably. Probably with a lot of other songs, too.

This is where I get to say something that I don't seem to often say about new albums: I quite like this one! It's split into sections by somewhat lengthy instrumental sections that are superfluous for the most part, but as a whole the album works quite well. You can download this song for free, but really you should buy the whole thing. Pitchfork's review says that it's a road trip album, and I suppose I agree. Just be careful, because if you turn the volume down too far, it loses a lot of its power and turns into a great bedtime album. (So it's like two albums in one!)

Most notable, of course, is the fact that the singer sounds like some high-pitched bastard child clone hybrid of Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan, who alternates between impressions of them, sometimes on the same song, jumping from Bruce Springsteen (like on this song) to Bob Dylan (like on Buenos Aires Beach, which has two of the most fun "oh-oh-oh-oh-oh" syllable stuttering parts I have ever heard in a song ever in my whole goddamn life) as if he was meant to do so his whole life. The music backing him up sounds roughly the same: it's familiar, as if you've got an E Street cover band playing shoegaze reinterpretations of the Boss' greatest.

Overall, this album is totes win. I'm totes hooked.