As public disapproval of the war in Iraq steadily climbs, I find that my disapproval of the state of popular music increases alongside it. While the Vietnam War era is characterized by the music that was created in response to it, why is the protest song dormant in the midst of an almost equally contested policy in Iraq? There are endless proposals, and we could all spend hours arguing over whether or not Karl Rove actually meets with ClearChannel execs to tell them how they can “help with the war on terror.” The only thing we know is that there is no Marvin Gaye, CCR, or Jefferson Airplane dominating the airwaves with musical opposition to the Iraq War. Sure, the Dixie Chicks are winning Grammys for bickering with the Bush Administration, and Green Day, Pearl Jam, John Mayer, and Pink have all tried to slip their social commentaries through the cracks of mainstream radio. These attempts didn’t turn many heads, though.

The good news, however, is that even if it isn’t being heard, at least great protest music is being made. You may not be able to hear it on Hot 102.1, but it’s in the stacks at Plan 9 Music, or just a click away on iTunes or Amazon. Several big names of the past have released critically acclaimed political albums, but could not catch on with today’s youth. Bruce Springsteen released Devils and Dust, Steve Earle griped on The Revolution Starts…Now, and Neil Young may have been a bit overaggressive with songs like “Let’s Impeach the President” on Living With War.

The best protest singers question the current state of affairs while avoiding pretentiousness. In a way, they aren’t “protest” singers at all. Rather than preaching their opinions, they tell stories or ask questions, allowing listeners to form their own opinions and responses. This “outside looking in” stance is what makes Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?” one of the best political songs in American popular music history, and when I picked up Josh Ritter’s The Animal Years last summer, I was immediately floored by how effectively his songs met the same criteria.

Josh Ritter was raised in Iowa by his parents, who are both neuroscience professors at Washington State University. He went to Oberlin College with all intentions of following in his parents’ footsteps. He heard Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline, though, and immediately knew he had a different calling. He finished his education studying “American history through narrative folk music.” He formed a band and moved to Boston, where he played at every open mic night he could. He was soon discovered by The Frames’ Glen Hansard, who took him on tour in Ireland. Since, the 29-year-old Ritter has become a very popular figure in Ireland, but he still looms in the shadows of the American music scene. The attention he is receiving for The Animal Years, though, could be a sign of big things to come.

The first track on The Animal Years, “Girl in the War”, was enough to convince me that this guy was the real deal. Written from the standpoint of a discussion between Saints Paul and Peter, “Girl in the War” makes no explicit claims about what is right or wrong, or how something should be different. Ritter sings, “And I got a girl in the war, Paul the only thing I know to do/Is turn up the music and pray that she makes it through”. Dreamy timbres and a gorgeous, yet calm melody complement the highly personal lyrics beautifully. Washington Post columnist Thomas Ricks praises Ritter for not singing “The President is bad and I am sad” songs, and “Girl in the War” is proof that Ritter never oversteps his boundaries.

On NPR’s Talk of the Nation, Ritter claimed that all of his songs are about confusion. He told Paste Magazine: “You can’t write on days that you know all the answers…because those aren’t the days when you need songs.” The centerpiece of The Animal Years is “Thin Blue Flame”, a nine-minute musical and lyrical journey that can only be about confusion. Like in “Girl in the War”, Ritter does not impose any ideology on the listener; he just describes what he sees. However, the angst in the musical arrangement and vocal delivery clearly indicate that he is troubled by his observations. The lyrics are loaded with intense imagery:

“Now the wolves are howling at your door/ Singing bout vengeance like it’s the joy of the Lord/ Bringing justice to the enemies not the other way round/ They’re guilty when killed and they’re killed where they’re found/ If what’s loosed on earth will be loosed up on high/ It’s a Hell of a Heaven we must go to when we die”

At the concert, Josh debuted a song from his newly-completed follow-up to The Animal Years. The song was tentatively titled “The Last Temptation of Atom”, and it proved that his ability to incorporate political commentary into his songs is not going away. He sings from the standpoint of a man hiding in a World War III bunker with a lover named Marie and an atomic warhead. He sings “We’d stay up every night /Looking up into the dark like it’s the night sky/ Pretend this giant missile is an old oak tree instead/And I’d carve your name in hearts into the warhead.” The dichotomy of humor and apocalyptic speculation makes for a very eerie song, and it elicited a very apprehensive applause from the audience. The intensity of the final stanza (“So I think about the big one/W-w-i-i-i/ Would we ever really care the world had ended?/You could hold me here forever/Like you’re holding me tonight/I think about that big red button and I’m tempted”) left the audience in silence for a few very long seconds before they erupted into applause.

In these often unsettling times, Josh Ritter is singing songs that people need to hear. Finding a song that you can associate with in a troublesome time is a way of telling yourself that other people are feeling the same things you are. So, for all of the brothers, boyfriends, husbands, and fathers who actually do have a girl in the war, Josh Ritter could be the one to tell them they are not alone in thinking “I gotta girl in the war, Paul her eyes are like champagne. They sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain.”

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