Contact Note - Jon Hopkins

Track list:

1. Circle
2. Second Sense
3. Contact Note
4. Searchlight
5. Symmetry
6. 100
7. Glasstop
8. Sleepwalker
9. Reprise
10. Nightjar
11. Black and Red
12. Luna Moth

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2004

OK, so I'm actually excited to give this one a listen. I don't think I've ever really given much time to Contact Note before, but I love Jon Hopkins' work (and am annoyed that my pre-order of the physical release of Singularity hasn't shown up yet; Amazon seem to be losing the plot slightly of late). My challenge to myself is to do this on a weeknight; did I?

Incidentally, I love the cover of this one. The lighting, the colours and the image all. That said, given the choice of subject I do wonder why the album wasn't named after the final track.

I did not manage to make this midweek in the end, and I found myself putting in two inserts before it after a couple of new purchases, but it feels like it could be a good album to round off a sunny weekend. Circle has a simple rhythmic loop that is easy to get sucked into whilst Hopkins weaves patterns over it. It feels optimistic, but it loses its way a bit when the structure that did so much to bring me in to the track is swapped out for another, leaving the latter part of the track feeling stale and distant. Its a perfect example of my fickleness I guess; it wasn't a seismic shift or anything, but it was enough for it to lose me.

I am rather disappointed by the opening to Second Sense too... not only do I not get on with the vocal insertions but it is a little too rhythm-led this time, and those rhythms can't sustain much on their own. It gets better when there's more melody added, or tuned up perhaps.

I discovered Jon Hopkins not through electronica, but through his production of low-fi Scottish indie peeps. Now Hopkins is well known for his collaboration with King Creosote, but it was his work on And the Racket They Made (from Bombshell) that really resonated with me, some years before Diamond Mine appeared. There it was his use of space more than anything else, the sparseness, the knowledge of when to dial back and support. I hear the roots of that sparseness here. Sure, there is always something going on, but there are passages when one element or other drops out or reduces to a low level that make you consider what was there, or what might be there.

I like, too, that Hopkins can take you on a journey, and may be specifically looking to do so if I recall discussion of a later work, Immunity, correctly. There it applied to the whole album, mirroring the structure of a night out, here I apply that more at the single track level.

I found this last night, too; putting thoughts to words to describe music dominated by electronic elements is surprisingly hard. Describing some of the sounds defies words, and you can't fall back on mentioning the instrument part either, because there's nothing there to identify in the same way that more... organic(?) music has. Don't get me wrong, I am not claiming for a second that non-electronic music has any primacy of place or anything like that, just suggesting that it is probably easier to describe.

There are some very different sounds on this disc, tonally I mean. 100 comes across bright and radio-friendly, almost "pop-y" which is a bit of a tonal jump. It's a good one though, breathing a life into the middle of the disc with its bold central theme. I am surprised to find I've only listened to it 6 times before as it is immediately familiar, the kind of track that could easily become an earworm. Tomorrow, as well as work I am expecting a delivery of English wine (it's getting better, they say...) and a man coming to fix my fence. It'll be nice to gain back a feeling of space in my back garden, especially given the fantastic bright, dry May we seem to have had this year. If I could bottle a day like today and carry it with me... warm but not too warm, bright, blue, full of life.

Enough whimsy. Except that the music seems to have gone that way, too... all plinky strings and xylophones.

Personally, I can't help but feel Hopkins is at his best when understated and downtempo. That isn't to say that he can't make some great tunes with more life in, but there are plenty of people who do that really well. Crafting truly engaging tracks that suit less full on moods and moments takes effort. It's easy to get tone in the right ballpark, but few manage to elevate that into something truly enjoyable in the way Jon Hopkins does. I know it's not on this disc, but I remember when I got Immunity and first heard the title track... I was absorbed, smitten. It probably helped that it includes a re-imagining of a King Creosote tune, again, and that it took me far too long to pin down what, so I had to listen to it over and over to confirm that it wasn't just similar to, but actually was the main lyric from Carbon Dating Agent (which I always loved, but since has become one of my all time favourite tracks).

I seem to be writing about anything except what I am hearing, but this has always been about where my mind goes from the music that I input as much as (or more than) about recording facts about what I hear.

There is a symmetry of sorts to this album, the first three and last three tracks have similar but reversed patterns of length, and as Nightjar begins it gives the impression that this will take the listener on a journey in the way that Contact Note did. I hope so, anyway because as it starts it is a little caught in between. Not super-sparse and considered, but not really enough going on to draw interest. On cue it opens up into a really nice simple piano, which in turn fades into more rhythm. It's not a high tempo journey, but it's going to some varied places.

Black and Red stands out as a complete oddity, blindsiding me with a load of found sound, a darker tone and not nearly as much coherence as I have come to expect from this artist to go with the absence of traditional tune, rhythm and structure. There must be a story behind this track - which ends with perhaps the most chilled sound of all of them - because it's so utterly out of place in other respects.

By ending as it does Black and Red dovetails nicely into the final track, a dreamy and ethereal number that I might appreciate more in another mood, or on another day. And that is all I could think of to write in those final 5 minutes... it must be time to start thinking about sleep and the week to come.

All That Must Be - George Fitzgerald

Track list:

1. Two Moons Under
2. Frieda
3. Burns
4. Roll Back
5. Siren Calls
6. Nobody But You (feat. Hudson Scott)
7. Outgrown
8. Half-Light (Night Version)
9. The Echo Forgets
10. Passing Trains

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2018

Another "A" insert here, and this one a real punt as I have no other touchpoint for George Fitzgerald. This was a recommendation when I was buying All Melody, and I heard a couple of samples on the storefront, said "sod it" and chucked it into the order. I've not listened to it yet, either. What's it like?

It opens with some street sounds, but they give way quickly to a synth-led structure creating a crucible like space for a top end that is... really odd. Words fail me, so moving on it garners a videogame soundtrack feel. The strange indescribable sounds aside, it has has something, but perhaps its thrust doesn't really sit well with me for a studied listen.

Reading up a little as the second track kicks in, it seems that Fitzgerald is much more club focused than I would have thought from this offering. My intersection with dance music is slim, but I have a fair amount of low-key electronica and that's where my head went when I heard the marketing samples, and why I picked it up on a whim. I suppose the fact I'm listening to this after dark on a Saturday means I got the timing right, but I am so uninterested in the club scene, and was similarly so in my youth. However my view of what gets played was skewed by that which made the radio and TV back when that mattered. This doesn't seem to share a lot of DNA with that guff from 20 years back.

There's more soft sounds, there's less repetitive "banging beats" and more growth within the tune. Crucially there's no paper thin plastic vocal on this either. I can't see how you'd dance to this, it just appeals to me in a more reflective way. But then I couldn't dance to anything, so what do I know?!

Where there are vocals, they are the weakest part of the compositions. And for all that I am finding the tunes to have some interest, they are also dragging. Roll Back has only just started, none of the three tracks before it are over-long and the whole disc is only 44 minutes but it feels like I have been going a while. So it's fair to say that I'm not falling wildly for it on first exposure. With that said, I'm not bouncing off it either. Any repellent effect that I get from the vocal segments is made up for by an interest in how he's constructed his loops and beats.

It's the most purely electronic, sci-fi-esque beeps and blips that appeal the most. They carry a familiarity from 10s of game soundtracks over the years, without being that at all. I have a frame of reference for it, even if it is not a reference the artist was consciously calling on (not that I would know). I can picture neon-lit streets of future dystopia, pulsing space-station bars, ship-stealing heist missions and more. I think this is why the vocal sections throw me for a loop; the music of my references rarely contains those elements.

Perhaps what surprises me the most is the volume level. It's not amped right up, but pitched lower. This allows for some more subtle sounds to be fused into the mix without getting swallowed whole. It's a world away from late nineties and early 2000s radio dance tracks that I recall (perhaps through stereotype-enforcing goggles, to be fair!). 

There are times when it flies closer to those themes, though thus far even the most egregious of them has been mitigated by the general volume level and the low contrast between elements. 

I think Outgrown must have been one of the samples I heard online, there's a keyboard line in there adding a nice bit of melody. It's a little bit swallowed in the hailstorm of electronics and the constant halo of the structural pulses, but it's there as a little beacon of calm, and the overall effect is nice, even if the track is probably a little busier than I would like in an ideal world. This listen is the last act of the day, a day in which I have been productive but felt completely listless away from the moments of key activity. 

There are two tracks to go and having just seen off what I suspect is the weakest offering on the album I am not expecting much from them beyond carrying on the general ambience of the disc. I can't say this is going to jump into regular rotation or become a favourite, but it's also not been an instant rejection either. There are enough soft edges here to make it good for reflection, switch off and relaxation, even when it is at its busiest. In time I might want to cut the more vocal-heavy tracks back, but I think even they deserve at least a second listen.

All Melody - Nils Frahm

Track list:

1. The Whole Universe Wants to Be Touched
2. Sunson
3. A Place
4. My Friend the Forest
5. Human Range
6. Forever Changeless
7. All Melody
8. #2
9. Momentum
10. Fundamental Values
11. Kaleidoscope
12. Harm Hymn

Running time: 73 minutes
Released: 2018

So another insert here, as I decided I did want to follow up on investigating Nils Frahm after the collaboration with Ólafur Arnalds. The first disc sold me, even though I was disappointed by the second.

The first, short, intro tune starts with ~10 seconds of silence. In a sub-2 minute track that's a significant chunk of time. I can see how and why silence might be used in structuring pieces, but I do wonder about tacking it on to the start or end of the track. In a live performance it might set tone and expectation, but on record? Not so sure.

This is a long disc and I have got up early on a Sunday to make time for it. I failed to find the right energy to do it last night (wash out all round, alas) and am trying to set that right. Soon I have to go off to do a huge shop (for two separate households) and then play dutiful son for a while. Yesterday was cleaning mold from windows that hadn't seen a cleanse in too long. Life's full of fun, eh?

It takes a little while to kick in, but Sunson has the pulsing staccato electronics that endeared the first disc of the Frahm/Arnalds collaboration to me. These kind of rhythms and patterns appeal to me a lot, I wonder why? A constant reference point, perhaps, or a subconscious connection to the heartbeat? I don't think "pulse" is a bad term for it at all. Over the top of this there are wandering pipes. I am reminded a little of Vangelis of all people. There is a little bit of a throwback vibe here. Then, about two thirds of the way through the track just stops. This is better use of silence, a reset, reformulate. The theme that comes back after the break is immediately relevant to what went before but framed very differently, so the quick enforced quiet between the two presentations allows for that relationship without the change being jarring or lost.

I find this hard to place. There's more going on in the pieces than perhaps I expected there would be so it's less immediately relaxing than I anticipated. Finding the words to describe where it would sit is tough. 

Vangelis probably is my best touchstone or reference point, despite this being less synth heavy, because of the variety. There are similarities in the structuring of the tracks and themes moreso than the actual sounds. Even the use of space, such as in the nice keyboard melody on My Friend the Forest, has echoes of the Greek. Actually here I feel there are actual melodic reflections of Vangelis tracks too, albeit with a more stripped down sound. The next track then veers off in a different direction, with taught trumpets that remind me of Scandinavian jazz, but with a slow tempo that, in combination, is really quite disturbing and hard to listen to.

By contrast, when Frahm brings out the keyboard, he has a nice, light touch, surprisingly so.

Is the title meant to be ironic? All Melody starts with anything but. Sure, a tune emerges from the electronics as it moves forward but it is not immediately melodic. My point of reference here dives to Ben Prunty's soundtrack for sci-fi roguelike FTL, a frustrating little game scored perfectly to enhance its tension.  Here the track builds a similar sense of edginess, the sound rounds out over time and the crescendo this involves is effective at subtly ratcheting up that dial further too. The track evolves as it goes, whilst always maintaining that tense aspect. 

You know, I totally missed a change of track there. The electronic rhythm seemed to continue right through with no break, and when you're talking two back-to-back 9 minute tunes...I am liking this mid section of the album though. Pulse, tempo, and tension. Ambient or electronica can be waffly and vague, purposeless. These three elements give it form and structure, give something to get your teeth into, something to lose yourself in, rather than simply losing track of the tune. 

I am losing track of this though... my mind has checked out, seeking refuge in nothingness as an antidote to the day ahead. I look forward to the day when I don't feel put upon, but I don't know if my mind will ever let me get there. We're almost through the album now, Kaleidoscope and its messy approximation of wind chimes and devotional singing is a but jarring. The low vocals on their own are nicely curated but the sounds layered over them are less appealing. It seemed as though the track got better in the latter stages of its 8 minute timeframe but to be honest I think I blocked out the bits that were less immediately accessible to me and concentrated on the part that I enjoyed

Overall this has been a strange listen for a number of reasons. The music itself is certainly one, but the timing (starting before 9am on a Sunday) is probably the key one, along with cutting away between tracks to get things done. It's not ideal, but then neither is finding a 73 minute block to dedicate when life continues on. I need my space and time, but for my own wellbeing I need to find a way to continue things like this, too... if I am not, it means my energy levels are down and I'm probably in a rut. 

The final track ends with silence, more than 10 seconds worth, but still a noticeable mirror to how it began. Overall I think there are some wonderful moments in this disc but it struggles to maintain the peak quality throughout.

Concubine Rice - Lone Pigeon

Track list:

1. Dad's Blue Danube / Concubine Rice / Your Tie Perhaps?
2. King Creosote's Wineglass Symphony / Sally Bradwell
3. The Road Up To Harlow Square / Been So Long
4. Heaven Come Down / Ancient Hubbard Cow Of Bubbletoop
5. Beatmix Chocbar Rap / Victoria
6. Waterfall / Boats
7. Old Mr. Muncherman / Endless Ballad Of A Riccoco Moon
8. Melonbeard / Lay Me Down / Stars Won't Sleep
9. Lonely Vagabond
10. Oh Catherine
11. Bona Fide World / Johnny & Jodie / Long Way Down
12. The Rainking / Don't Look Back
13. Concubine Rice Reprise / I Am the Secret Unknown
14. I Am the Secret Unknown
15. Untitled

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2002

So I think this will be an odd one. Lone Pigeon, aka Gordon Anderson, one of three musical brothers in my library, the others recording as Pip Dylan and my perennial favourite boy, King Creosote.

This is a solo work, though Anderson also recorded with The Beta Band and The Aliens, and I seem to recall it being weirder than his band-based work. There also seems to be no consensus on the proper track list for this album, so I've gone with what matches the titles in my player.

I rather like the simple rhythm that we start with, even if the tinny synth keys aren't exactly musical in nature. Anderson's voice is deep here, and the lyrics are definitely odd, but at the same time there is a simple charm to it all. Is that a recording of an elephant trumpeting?

This morning I have already been thwarted by bad luck once, discovering a slow puncture on the rear wheel of my bike meant I couldn't get out for some exercise before the day got too hot; I lack the necessary bits and pieces for repair so my pathetic attempts at healthy living is stymied again for now. I can well believe that the wineglass symphony is actually what it says on the tin, because the actual sound is a horrible din in places. Thankfully it gives way to more of a tune, and some repeated Beta Band limits. Recycled material is something I see a lot with Lone Pigeon - As an example, Boats crops up here as part of track 6, has it's own place on Schoozzzmmii, and then made it on to Luna by The Aliens too.

This whole album cuts about all over the place, splicing vignettes together into longer tracks. It gives it a very tumbledown air, very random. In places this manifests as some frankly appalling sounds, in others its just slightly odd, and then here and there you get lovely little loops, melodies or vocal lines cutting in and out. Honestly, just from the 4 and a half tracks that have played by now, I half feel I should just cut the lot. But only half. The other half of me loves the oddity, enjoys the arbitrary nature, and finds real beauty hidden in those nicer, more melodic moments.

I'm pretty sure my track list is wrong. Track 6 seems to have the Ancient Hubbard Cow of Bubbletoop at the start. You would have thought in this day and age it would be easy to get a definitive listing but... no. The rest of 6 sounds like it should be Beatmix Chocbar Rap, but no list I see anywhere fuses those two half-tracks together. I think this must be deliberate. Even pausing and going to look for the physical disc and liner notes really doesn't help clear anything up because the presentation there doesn't click with the 15 tracks it ripped to. I don't like the inaccuracy, but at the same time I'm damned if I can be arsed to sort through this any further.

There's a really nice guitar part at the start of what I have as track 7. It doesn't last long before we get into a really low-fi, echoing recording all sharp sounds and over-sustained vocals obscured by fuzz. Completely random, and still no Boats.

Of course.

The very next thing that plays is Boats. At the start of track 8. Only the opening hook though, then we're on to something else.

By this point the constant switcheroo is getting tiring. The interesting bits and lovely melodies are fewer in number than the meandering dross. I have been reluctant to mention it to this point, as someone who has been through (minor) depressive episodes in the past, but I find it hard to escape the thought that this disc might reflect Gordon Anderson's struggles with the mental illness that caused him to drop out of the Betas just as they made their name. The lack of cohesion in particular gives me that impression. Between the muddled track presentation, the skipping between styles, bits of atonal or incidental recordings and frankly nonsense lyrics its a hard one to escape.

Those nice moments are now so rare, and presented in such chaotic context that I'm considering junking the lot. Lonely Vagabond has a nicer touch to it, but of course the player things I'm on Oh Catherine now; only 1 tune out by this point, but still. It's frustrating me enough that I'm seriously considering junking the listen here, and there's still 20 minutes to go, including a 9 minute epic.

Somewhere along the way I have tuned out and got distracted by other things. It seems that might be a sensible thing, but it is contrary to the intent of these listens. I'm really rather disappointed by this. I knew this disc was weird but I hadn't realised just how poor most of it actually is. That said, if it was an endeavour that got Gordon Anderson through tough times and poor mental health then for all I dislike it I am happy that it exists.

I am the Unknown foreshadows the Aliens some, that rockier sound points towards things like I am the Robot Man, and The Happy Song... or rather to itself. This appeared on Astronomy for Dogs as well. The clashing guitars are actually a really welcome change from all that went before but not enough for me to save anything from this hot mess of an album.

Concierto - Jim Hall

Track list:

1. You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To
2. Two's Blues
3. The Answer Is Yes
4. Concierto De Aranjuez
5. Rock Skippin'
6. Unfinished Business
7. You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To (Alt. Take)
8. The Answer Is Yes (Alt. Take)
9. Rock Skippin' (Alt. Take)

Running time: 65 minutes
Released: 1975

Another almost random disc now, as this came as part of a big box of jazz classics. I've never heard of Jim Hall before so don't know what to expect. Apparently he's a staple of jazz guitar and the original disc was just 4 or 5 tracks but there are 9 here so a bit more to work with. I suspect this will not be my thing, but lets plow on and see...

The opening refrains have that light, dated electric guitar sound that I associate with noodling and cheese. The melody is perfectly likeable but there is something about the timbre of the 70s jazz guitar that is instinctively off-putting. The wind/brass led section that takes over from that guitar-driven opening is more my thing, but even then the tune tends a little too much to the cheesy for my tastes, I think its the constant nature of the bass and business of the drums and keys. Too much going on.

I'm not having a great day. Yesterday I failed to get this listen in and thus missed my target of 1 a day through the point I return to work, today I have woken up with a strange burning pain in my hands - just down the sides around the knuckles of my little fingers. It's much worse on the right, which I can barely touch to anything, and I've managed to give myself a blister because my trainer socks didn't cover the tops of my trainers when walking to do some shopping. Oh well, at least the sun is out, and in lieu of the listen yesterday I got stuff done in the garden and got out on my bike for the first time in too long.

The tune has grown on me a little bit as I digressed, leading me to think that maybe its a question of accepting it on its own terms. Certainly when the second track starts, then gets into its swing, I am more favourably disposed to it, though perhaps that is something to do with it not being the awful sounds I can hear being played next door, tasteless euro-pop. Ugh.

As much as I hate track-by-track statements, here it feels appropriate to call out the change with The Answer Is Yes, too. This tune has more space, more time, and feels better crafted as a result. One thing I really like here is how the guitar lead and the keyboard seem to be playing as extensions to each other in places - one starts a line, the other finishes it. The tune as a whole feels closer to the areas of older jazz that I have been fond of.

I am struggling to find many words this morning (well, midday now). I should by rights feel massively rested by now after a week off, what with it being Sunday, but I don't. Struggle to sleep last night as my mind wouldn't shut off didn't help. After a quick break to baste the lamb I have roasting for lunch it's into the centrepiece of the disc - a 20 minute concerto. Checking on LastFM I am surprised to find that I have clocked up 20 listens to Jim Hall (including the first 3 here), and that I have apparently heard enough of the Concierto De Aranjuez to scrobble it twice before. Surprised because consciously I was not really aware of this disc at all.

I rather like the tune though, a Latin rhythm, softly delivered by the bass with a little help from the drums keeps it rolling gently along as the various other musicians give their rotating parts over the top of it all. It has a nice gentle relaxation to it. The parts swap in and out in such a way that it doesn't get repetitive, at least through the first 10 minutes, only half way I'll grant, and the flow of the tune is really spot on. I could probably do with it coming to a close sooner than another 7-8 minutes though. Without the context of a live performance, immensely long tracks can strain the attention, and any dissatisfaction with the tune as it continues is more because I am trying to be attentive rather than doing something else whilst it plays. When really giving it a close ear, the patterns that provide that nice gentle sway are the ones that strain the interest. In general relaxation I wouldn't hear them as much, the melodic parts would win out, but here it was harder to escape them.

The ending of Concierto De Aranjuez is heralded by a complete change of pace and rhythm, it becomes ploddingly slow and patchy, losing all the coherence it had for most of its run. Now I really do wish the piece concluded 5 minutes earlier.

There is one more tune of note, what looks like a 2-minute interlude, and 3 alternate takes to come.  Retakes, remixes, acoustic versions etc. are all well and good, but I do wonder about including so many on the same disc as the original cut. Yes, this was a re-issue thing, but when you only have a handful of tunes in the first place...? This kind of thing is less annoying if it's one or two tunes in 10-20; when it's 3 in 8 the ratio is all wrong. Anyhow, minor rant aside, it seems to me that Rock Skippin' is well named - the sounds are bouncy, jumping around and I can immediately relate them to skimming stones, or clambering and jumping over boulders as a kid. Having said that, I then think again; in my memory or visualisation of those activities they're solo affairs, out in the countryside, slow pace, escapism. I don't know where I am going with this thought at all, but I feel that I need to get out into the countryside more, but finding the motivation to do so alone is... eugh.

So, into the repeats we dive and I find myself less at odds with it than I expect, but without anything to say.

My overall impression of this disc is positive, actually, which surprises me - especially given my initial reaction. I still rather resent the sound of the jazz guitar as exemplified on You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To, as a lead instrument anyway, but the one instrument doesn't make or break the track, and when it is employed with a less "ringing" sound the guitar is an excellent instrument for any genre. It's the specific electric rounded note guitar sound of the 70s that irks me. It's employed a little too much here for me to be 100% on board with the album but the general flow, pace and energy of the disc makes up for that some.

I have run out of steam entirely over the last 20 minutes, so I am grateful for the end when it comes. Now to go halve the lamb and take one half off to be eaten. Yum!

Complete Peel Sessions (Disc 6) - The Wedding Present

Track list:

1. Go Go Dancer
2. Sports Car
3. Kansas
4. 2, 3, Go
5. Bewitched
6. Venus
7. Loveslave
8. Real Thing
9. Drive
10. Montreal
11. Come Play with Me
12. Brassneck
13. Crawl

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2007

OK, so the final part of the Peel Sessions box set now. It's been a long time since the first disc almost blew my head off since I haven't managed to maintain any consistency of posting. That makes this marathon of The Wedding Present more like a series of middle-distance ambles. Crap analogies out of the way, how does this last live stuff sound?

There is a brief introduction before the band launch into Go Go Dancer, and it is a launch. A few taps of the drum sticks and its 0-60 in an instant with insanely fast drums and guitar to keep pace with. The sound is a little muted, but the essential energy of a Wedding Present tune is there all the same, peppy and two-speed, the vocal seeming to be in a different time to the backing.

It's now May, and I started this six-disc box set in January. That's shocking, even allowing for a few insertions, but life gets in the way sometimes. This is a hobby project, but it has been relegated underneath the need to maintain some kind of equilibrium. The plaintive voice on this rendition of Sports Car reminds me of how I have felt over the last bit... on edge, at my limit. It's the Friday of a week off, and I am only just beginning to feel like I haven't been working, it's taken this long.

There is something very weird about hearing a middle-aged man sing the lyrics of Kansas. I don't want to elaborate, because I don't want to think about it any more than I have.

I am feeling lost for words this morning. A few things to do today, not much going on upstairs as I find myself content to just hear tracks out without comment. It's a sign of comfort in one sense, and enjoyment in another. This listen is an oasis of calm before I have to rush out and shop for two people, do someone else's washing and other chores. Then, when I get home I have to home the bright morning is turning into a bright afternoon so I can motivate myself to do some essential outdoor work, else it's more spring cleaning. With that in mind there is reassurance in the constant guitar chords and familiar rhythms here, I don't need to think too hard about them.

Even the "new" (yeah, that doesn't mean much on an old live recording) songs are familiar, though apparently I have heard Venus just once before. The familiarity is by pattern, not specifics. Of course, then Loveslave starts and it breaks the rules. Slow pace that in some ways sits more easily with David Gedge's vocal style, which is expanded here to include imploring cries in the chorus. I'm not a huge fan of the track if I'm honest. The familiarity factor has been pulled away in that one track though and it doesn't immediately return which is a little disconcerting.

After a brief digression about a puppet (!) we're back onto firmer, more recognisable ground with Drive. When the pace drops I feel The Wedding Present lose their USP. It is the contrast between the busy guitars and bustling drums and the vocals that really sets them up. Having said that, Montreal creates more space and time and works really well, something about the melodics, and when it segues into Come Play With Me and maintains that lower pace I find my preconceptions challenged again until the closing of the second track brings its familiar refrains, and I think my favourite repeated loops (vocal and otherwise) in TWP's catalogue. It's over indeed.

Brassneck sounds very different, and I'm not sure if this is because they've changed the score or because it's not the song I thought it was. Probably the latter, but then songs do evolve from time to time. I really like the ringing on the guitar parts on the final number, Crawl. It's richer and lighter, and it feels like a good way to end the set on a positive sound even if the last lyrical utterance is a threat.

So, then... no more Wedding Presents for me for a while. On to other things...

Collaborative Works, Disc 2 - Ólafur Arnalds and Nils Frahm

Track list:

1. 20:17
2. 21:05
3. 23:17
4. 23:52
5. 00:26
6. 01:41
7. 03:06
8. Untitled

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 2015

After the first disc of this collection was largely a hit, what does round two have to offer?

If the track titles for the first half of this set were odd, these are just as inscrutable. I can only assume that the titles are timestamps as the liner notes suggest these tunes were put together in a single sitting. 

The soft piano that opens us up is clear, unadorned by any electronics this time around, its melody is sweet and simple, but not really a midday kind of sound. Then, in truth, it rather meanders to a conclusion, and a very unclear track changeover. Thus far it lacks the urgency and demanding features of the companion disc. For all the beauty in the notes there is something missing here. Vibrancy, points of difference. In another mood, where I was looking for laid back light melody, I think I would value this highly, but right now - this listen being a way of kickstarting my day, far later than it should have been - it falls a little flat.

Isn't it funny how our sense of self can completely realign how we view things? It's not just appreciation of music that depends wildly on mood, I've noticed it with books too of late. One evening I read a passage and thought it was dross, that I'd jack the book in there and then. I went back to it the next night and ended up with a more charitable view. The last time I picked up that book, a couple of days ago now, I ended up back in the first camp. Now, clearly that suggests it isn't a great read, but it is also interesting the degree to which my impressions of it shifted. I think I might be done with it now but... I kinda feel like I have to give it one more chance?

Why the digression? Because thinking about that is to think, too, about this project. When I started I was itchy on the trigger finger, cutting quite a lot. I have dialed back on that some of late (I didn't excise B1 from disc 1 for example). Does that mean another chance to appreciate things, or does it mean more dross in the mix? Probably both, to different degrees.

Meanwhile the lonely piano has been joined by some other sounds. The aural tapestry is better for it, but I still don't feel that this disc is living up to yesterday's standards. It was the whirs and clicks, the obfuscation of the melodies and tunes, those subtle electronic highlights that Arnalds made a name with that made those first pieces sing. Here they are either absent or applied with more force than is required. As we approach midnight (assuming timestamps) things are darker, edgier, but rather than a coherent aesthetic evoking in me memories or thoughts of references to other mediums, 23:52 ends up presenting me with a wall of wails, not song. It's not bad but it's not what I had hoped for on the basis of yesterday evening.

Ah, now. Into the new day and there we have it. Those staccato statics, and a pulsing sound to the main instrumentation. It's more sparse than anything preceding it on this disc, but also more vital, more immediate - all because of some sonic disruption that provides a constant nagging rhythm. It reminds me a bit of Boards of Canada's Tomorrow's Harvest, which is a good thing. There is still a more urgent edge to the following piece too, though it seems to be a solo xylaphone or similar, the pace is kept up. 

Until it morphs into a recording of people moving around the studio anyway, then it mellows out and loses the urgency. Sigh.

It recovers a little in the end, through presentation of a nice central theme, but my disappointment with the piece as a whole stands, and at the moment that disappointment reflects my overall feeling on this album. As the last titled track begins, another nice key-led tune, I wonder how much today's disappointment was setup by last night's enjoyment. This is nice, but doesn't have the same wow factor, doesn't draw me in and demand my attention. It's like there's no real sell here, just a meander through some notes and sounds for the sake of it. Some of those notes and sounds are gorgeous, some less so, but on its own that isn't enough somehow. They spoiled me before.

Collaborative Works, Disc 1 - Ólafur Arnalds and Nils Frahm

Track list:

1. Four
2. Three
3. Wide Open
4. W
5. M
6. A1
7. A2
8. B1
9. Life Story
10. Love And Glory

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2015

OK, so another impulse purchase makes its way in before I can close out the Wedding Present box set of Peel. This time it is a collaboration between Ólafur Arnalds, of whom I am a fan, and Nils Frahm, who I don't know from Adam, but might find myself interested in after this...

These tracks are named... oddly. For the most part they say absolutely nothing about what they might contain. I find the opening notes of Four to be almost brilliantly enticing. I like the tune they play but the buzzing electro edge to them is annoying in the same way a wasp or fly in the room can be. When the tune dies out and we are left with just chimes if feels empty, unfulfilling. 

Fulfillment is something I am craving right now. April was a difficult month in a number of ways and whilst I am starting May on holiday (well, not working this week; I'm at home) I am yet to get back to a baseline where I feel truly myself, or truly human. A combination of work stress and family matters, and a growing dissatisfaction with my solitary life. I am hoping that somewhere in these swirling sounds there might be some gold dust, the touchstone to reignite my velocity on this project (I'd like to get a listen in every day between now and when I go back to work on the 8th, but...). 

Three is also very mellow and feels more complete somehow, whilst Wide Open has punching static, needle scratches, giving a staccato, radio-signal loss effect. I think this is really effective. It sounds like the tune behind these breaks would work as a fluid number but the ticks shake it up, making it sound more dense with notes than it actually is. I feel like the closest thing to this I've heard before is Jon Hopkins, not Arnalds' solo work. In places it hints at a much deeper web of sounds, but they are all inaccessible, held back behind the barrier built by the static. It could be massively frustrating and a let down, but it ends up being highly satisfying. 

W sounds like videogame music... rising tension, peaks and troughs, right out of cyberpunk. I don't mean that in a pejorative sense at all, by the by. Even listening on a sunny spring evening this piece is very effective at generating an oppressive atmosphere of dark intrigue. There isn't really that much going on in the track, and yet it is gripping for most of its length. By the end the trick has grown old, and the relaxing tension leaves me cold. 

It seems that this double-disc collection was originally 4 releases, three of which make up the one album I am listening to tonight. There has definitely been a shift in tone from the laid back sounds of that first trio of tunes to this next couple, all edgy. There is a nice rhythm to this though, more staccato, pulsing, evoking sci-fi and space. 

On the surface level this is quite a bleak sound but beneath the distant beeps and clicks and whirs there is real heart, and I find myself tapping out rhythms that aren't necessarily actually there as it plays. These two composers have created a space that invites you to hear things in it. Whether claustrophobic or wide open in tone their sounds push you to imagine others, faint echoes in their chambers, tapping time. These pieces work best when they are busy, the slower, sparser moments feel empty, if only by comparison to the main thrust of the work. 

As much as I am rather enjoying this, it is awfully samey in places, and when they hit on a theme or loop that doesn't jive with me the charm falls away fast.

I see that at the start of the 13 minute long epic, B1. A low warbling sound with a repeating pattern of odd sounds that I cannot put into words. It leaves me very cold and there is not enough variation in the first 3 minutes of the track to make the discomfiture abate. The track does evolve a bit over its run, but it never really breaks from the initial mould and I find it by far the weakest moment to date. There is just too much emphasis on repetition and those odd pattern-notes. I would argue the main meat of the track is the background, where the change really happens, but it is locked away behind these unpleasant blotchy sounds which simply make the piece too unapproachable for me. And then it ends in the most abrupt fashion... just odd.

Hopefully the last two numbers return to form... early signs are good, as Life Story is a nice piano melody that, whilst very different in tone from the early tracks does have the same base engagement, the underlying warmth of the sound, framed in a way as to draw you into the web. The rustling static that serves as percussion is so soft in places as to be almost imperceptible, but I guarantee you would miss it if it wasn't there... it adds a fuzz, a glow, to the sounds of the keys which otherwise might be too stark and cold.

With all that said, there is still a loneliness to the track, and it leaves me with a little lump in my throat as it closes and we tick over into Love and Glory, which has a similar structure. This piece is more hopeful, lighter. Uncertain but expected happiness, this feels much more a celebration, as befits its title.

Overall, then... a wonderful set of tunes, one outlier aside. It's a pity that outlier was almost 25% of the disc by time.

Cold Moon - Alela Diane and Ryan Francesconi

Track list:

1. Quiet Corner
2. Migration
3. The Sun Today
4. No Thought of Leaving
5. Cold Moon
6. Shapeless
7. Shift
8. Roy

Running time: 37 minutes
Released: 2015

So another insert now, and another new purchase. This one ordered last night after loving Alela Diane & Wild Divine. I'm hoping this will keep up the hit rate.

The opening sounds are rather lighter, airier. The vocal has a weightless quality, even where it goes deeper in tone, and the guitar work that forms the basis of the song is flowery, until the point where it is all cut back, a deliberate change of pace. There is something a little unreal about the sound, it too rounded, too bright. I lack suitable words to put my disquiet with this sound into text. It just feels as though it isn't quite grounded?

Not the strongest start, then, but the first little ripples of Migration are better. This is very sparse indeed, and so laid back it may as well be prone. It is softer, warmer and more grounded. They leave space aplenty in the first couple of minutes, and it becomes more like a leisurely delivered topic speech than a song in terms of tempo. Diane's voice is completely comfortable in this space though, and although some of the strings go a little stark in places I really like the overall effect on this one, especially when the sound grows in the latter half.

I am treating this as a lazy evening, though really I had hoped to get the listen done earlier in the day. To be honest if I hadn't really, really been struck by Alela Diane's music in the last couple of weeks I doubt I would have found the impetus to do a single listen this weekend, let alone two. In the grander scheme of things these two posts don't actually advance me, since both were new purchases and both slipped in before my current position.Thus far I don't find this anything like as appealing as the album I listened to last night, it's a little too stripped back, a little too reflective. What sold me on Wild Divine was the energy from the band, ditched here in place of Francesconi's guitar work. He brings definition, sure, but there is a dearth of urgency and tone.

Alela Diane doesn't half have a wonderful voice though.

I find the pace too low, the approach a little too noodling. The guitar work feels more suited to a solo bedroom exploration of the strings than a recorded performance, an exercise in self relaxation. Alas that doesn't translate well. Things pick up a little when more is added to the arrangement, but I can't help but feel this album is lacking by comparison to everything of hers that I have been enjoying of late. I think this is the problem of expectation. I bought this excited, expectant and hopeful. I bought Cusp blind, unknowing and was charmed. Each disc acquired since has been shaped in its appreciation by that charm - either failing to impress by comparison or surviving the pulling up of standards.

Perhaps in another mood this would appeal. To be clear I don't think it is bad as such, it's more that it is slow, lonely, and intimate - the stripped back sound, just guitar and vocal, the deliberate pacing, it feels a little confessional, a private conversation that we just happen to have been invited to assess but not partake in. There are times when this works and there are times when it perversely feels like it drives a wedge between me as the listener and the performance. Sometimes those different impressions are made within the same song, and I am struggling a little with the contrast between those moments.

Final track, Roy, has a return to the sounds that defied my words in the opening moments. It seems fitting that it ends as it began, with me far from sure. First listen caveats apply, but whilst last time out proved that a strong first impression can be made, this album didn't leave anything like that.

Alela Diane & Wild Divine - Alela Diane

Track list:

1. To Begin
2. Elijah
3. Long Way Down
4. Suzanne
5. The Wind
6. Of Many Colors
7. Desire
8. Heartless Highway
9. White Horse
10. Rising Greatness

Running time: 38 minutes
Released: 2011

So we break with the Wedding Present for an unexpected interlude. Not a long time without a post (though that too), but three discs that I have picked up over the last couple of weeks.

The first of these comes from Alela Diane, who I was aware of but never actually explored before picking up Cusp when it released. Once I got that into the car for a few listens to and from work, I found a charming little album that immediately made me want to explore more. This dropped through my door a couple of days ago and I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet.

It starts with a bolder musical line than I was perhaps expecting, but it is a nice warm one, and supplemented very nicely by our singer's voice, which has an enveloping, drawing quality to it. Obviously this is a younger performer than the Alela Diane of Cusp, since the record predates it by 7 years, but that fact is also evidenced in the contrasting performances. Here there is a strut of youth rather than the reflection of one's 30s. I ordered this, To Be Still and The Pirate's Gospel at the same time; the other two arrived first and gave contrasting impressions. Wild Divine is on the better side of those two, more in common with To Be Still. 

On the evidence of the first two tracks I think this might become my favourite of the works I have picked up. I like the bolder, bigger sound and the easy flow. Whilst I was smitten with Cusp - which compared favourably with a couple of other 2018 albums I picked up around the same time, a result I think of no real expectations, as I found my hopes dashed a little by Ruins and I'll Be Your Girl by First Aid Kit and The Decemberists respectively - its appeal isn't visceral, but considered. The early tracks of Alela Diane & Wild Divine on the other hand just feel right from the off. The arrangements are nice and full, with enough of a big-sky America feel to them to trip that switch; Diane's voice is generally louder, bolder, here but in concert with the tunes behind her. Her tones have a warm sound that I find really engaging and were one of the primary drivers for me picking up all these other albums on top of that first introduction. 

To be honest, I think there are parts of Diane's songs which could be better; I am far from convinced by her as a lyricist as I find she relies too much on repetition. As I typed that I was thinking that trait was less evident on this disc than the others, but then it appears in The Wind... not in an offensive way, but in an apt one from a timing perspective.

Oh wow, I love the opening of Of Many Colors. The simple rhythm is nice but the strings of the guitars have such a nice roll to them... very American, but it feels small town, slow pace of life, rootsy. It's a sound that appeals... the myth of inland America as a storied place different from (what I imagine is) the reality of life in those parts. The mythic America is a place to visit in the imagination, full of wondrous places and tales aplenty; the real small town America appeals to me not at all.

This album is good at feeding that imagination.

I suspect I am missing finer details, because the general themes and tones are so strong and evocative I can't help but let my mind wander with those, drifting away from the specifics of the individual songs. And just like that I am almost through. The penultimate track just began, this a punchier twang to begin with, but then growing in refinement as the track builds. It then hops around between tones a bit, giving a bit of a strange overall impression. None of those tones are bad, but they don't necessarily feel as though they hang together perfectly. 

The strongest theme running through these tracks is the warmth of both the guitars and the vocal, it feels right for an evening. It has the country-ish edge to it that keeps it honest, but which also offers favourable comparisons with similar artists; whilst not American First Aid Kit at their best are a strong point of comparison, and I think Alela Diane comes off favourably in that. This album made for a good evening; I could quite happily repeat it... in fact I think I shall.