The Best of Arlo Guthrie: A Folksy Joyride You Didn’t Know You Needed
Alright, let’s talk about The Best of by Arlo Guthrie. If you’re into folk music that feels like a warm hug from your weird uncle who tells long stories at family dinners, this album is for you. It's not flashy or overproduced—it’s raw, real, and kinda messy in the best way possible. And honestly? That’s what makes it stick.
First up, we gotta shout out “Alice’s Restaurant.” Yeah, yeah, it’s technically a live recording, but hear me out. This track isn’t just a song; it’s an experience. Like, how do you even categorize something that’s part comedy routine, part protest anthem, and part rambling monologue? The whole thing clocks in at over 18 minutes, which sounds insane until you realize you don’t want it to end. I mean, who else could turn a story about getting busted for littering into a full-blown cultural moment? Every time I listen to it, I feel like I’m sitting right there with him, laughing at the absurdity of life while secretly questioning all my life choices. Classic Arlo.
Then there’s “City of New Orleans,” another standout. Man, this one hits different. It’s got this gentle sway to it, like watching the world go by from the window of a train. The lyrics are simple yet so vivid—“Good morning, America, how are you?” feels both nostalgic and oddly current. There’s something comforting about how he sings it, like he’s whispering secrets about the open road. It stuck with me because it’s one of those songs that sneaks up on you when you least expect it, playing in your head on random Tuesday mornings when you're stuck in traffic.
What strikes me most about this album is how unpretentious it feels. Arlo doesn’t try too hard to impress anyone—he just shows up, guitar in hand, ready to tell stories. Some tracks might sound rough around the edges, but hey, isn’t that the point? Life ain’t perfect either, right?
Here’s the kicker though: listening to The Best of made me wonder if maybe we need more albums like this today. Stuff that doesn’t take itself too seriously but still manages to say something meaningful. Or maybe I’m just biased because I now associate “Alice’s Restaurant” with Thanksgiving dinner disasters. Either way, give it a spin—you won’t regret it. Unless you hate fun. Then yeah, probably skip it.
