The City - Vangelis

Track list:

1. Dawn
2. Morning Papers
3. Nerve Centre
4. Side Streets
5. Good to See You
6. Twilight
7. Red Lights
8. Procession

Running time: 43 minutes
Released: 1990

I remember my dad having this, and hearing it a fair bit whilst in my early teens. I remember this being more immediately accessible than some Vangelis, I remember it including sounds of people going about busy lives in a city. Very much in theme. I do not remember many specifics, and it will be interesting to see how it has aged.

This album is a collection of shorter pieces than I instinctively associate with Vangelis, so I expect it will fly by. Dawn opens in a way I find incredibly reminiscent of Blade Runner (still almost certain to be my most inter-linked post), which is certainly not a bad thing. All soft synthetics it is a gentle beginning, though I would personally suggest that the sounds are more evocative of sundown than sunup.  It ends with footsteps, walking us into the next track with it's odd voice over, busy sounds in the background including emergency sirens, and then a chime and breathy pipe tune that feels more Amazon jungle than Amazon corporate headquarters.

So far the overall effect of the pieces and the theme are at odds rather than in concert, despite the presence of these other sounds. For all that, it is quintessentially Vangelis; relaxing and familiar.

As I type that we tick over and Nerve Centre starts up with exaggerated 80s sounds. I think of  latter-day Pink Floyd as a reference (A Momentary Lapse of Reason era). I also think of Beverley Hills Cop and the fact that this could easily be overlaid on cheesy montage / scene setting sequences in that style of film. Dated. Very, very dated. In some ways it feels as though it would have been dated even before it released. It does, however, for the first time reflect a busier theme, and for all the cheese I don't find it forcing me away; a knowing wry look instead. Opening a track with a motorcycle engine, before settling into a tune structure that evokes 1492 quite strongly is interesting. Obviously this album came first, but I find the similarities between this - ostensibly an urban theme - and that soundtrack for a historical ocean and jungle epic to be surprising. the Blade Runner reference makes sense in context, over-built urban visuals and sounds you would expect to go together, but the flash-forward to 1492 is more incongruous.

For all that the heavy synth sound dates badly, for all that it is hard not to hear the cheese when applying a more modern ear, I still find these tunes very comforting. I don't know if that reflects nostalgia or the craft of the artist. I suspect a little of both. There are musical themes running through here that are so familiar and reliable.

On Good to See You there is the conceit of hearing one half of a conversation, a distant, somewhat muffled female voice talking over a soft theme. It works well enough to break up the monotony of the lower register structural loops, but I find I preferred it when a sax line was used for the same purpose. We are then dropped into the territory of exoticism - a different language to the spoken vocal, and sounds that hint at Asia, a decade on from China. Vangelis is rarely a quick tempo composer, but Twilight is glacially paced. Its soft tones have a sort of swirling wind sound beneath them, faint but effective. This helps call back to another Vangelis album for me, Antarctica, though more because of my associations with the place / word than for any conscious picking up of re-use of musical themes.

My first real disconnect with the compositions comes with Red Lights, which... well, I am not sure what he was aiming at here. The combination of the title, the style, the female voices (no language I can recognise) just jar me out of things. Thankfully it is over quite quickly, and we hit the final number. More sense of where he was to end up on 1492 here. I don't really have much else to add as I find the tune rather nondescript... not because it is bad but little stands out as worthy of particular attention. It is long, giving the structure a long time to bed in, lots of opportunities to vary what happens over the top of that structure, and... lots of run to be a very typical Vangelis track.

It closes by harking back to the beginning - the footsteps and speech from the first two tracks are appended to the closing of the last, and the final sounds we hear are distant sirens muffled into a fade out. There is very little here that feels unique, little to make this album stand out from Vangelis' other works;I find myself OK with that, and I can only put that particular statement down to the nostalgia.

The Cinematic Orchestra Presents: In Motion #1 - Various Artists

Track list:

1. Necrology - The Cinematic Orchestra
2. Lapis - Austin Peralta
3. Outer Space - Dorian Concept & Tom Chant
4. Dream Work - Dorian Concept & Tom Chant
5. Entr'acte - The Cinematic Orchestra
6. Regen- Gary Reverend
7. Manhatta - The Cinematic Orchestra

Running time: 79 minutes
Released: 2012

I love The Cinematic Orchestra. There is something about their style of modern jazz that clicks for me. I am not sure that this will exemplify that though, as it is not really a Cinematic Orchestra album - a greater number of the tracks are contributed by others. I don't remember this one at all really, so it's a step into the unknown a little.

This is a collection of 7 long pieces, soundtracks to short films I think. The opening track is the shortest at over 8 minutes, so I anticipate plenty of time to reflect over the next hour and a half. There are 4 tracks in the middle by invitees, but the album is bookended by the Cinematics. Necrology gets us underway with an assertive rhythm-led piece, keys sparkling above it, light touch space forming around it. As we hit the halfway mark there is a more fully formed melody that shares the track with the drum riff, when suddenly both drop out giving a pause for breath, a sense of wonder and reverence. When the tune picks up again, the drum influence is gone for a while; it rejoins, softer than before, still central, but not as dominant.

I have to say, I rather like it. It doesn't have the same instinctive appeal as the works that drew me to The Cinematic Orchestra in the first instance, but it is very much enjoyable.

Austin Peralta's piece, Lapis, is more strings and classical forms. My initial impressions are so-so. Nice enough but not compelling. That feeling persists 3 minutes in, and whilst the track starts to grow it isn't stirring any great emotion in me as I sit with my breakfast and (decaf) coffee. The first point the tune really grabs my attention is 2/3rds of the way through, it goes still, sparse; every note more important for that. Alas, it is dealing with really high ranges, at which I find the strings more of a screech than a pleasant sound. The overall effect of the piece is pastoral. Whilst those straining high notes introduce a tension to it, that tension is quickly sliced through and comes at the expense of me being thrown out of whatever picture I conjured to the tune prior. From there, we head into space...

My first thoughts about this first of two contributions from composers Dorian Concept and Tom Chant are... well, it doesn't really sound that space-like. Devoid a visual to accompany, this feels decidedly less space-like than, say, Mogwai's Atomic does, to pick something I had cause to listen to part of recently. The disconnect between the title and the actual tune grows wider when a horn pipes up and takes centre-stage. Despite that, I find that the tune is sliding by quite fast, certainly not dragging or feeling unwelcome. Unfortunately I miss the rest of the track as I find that I need to fiddle with my bike lights, charging by USB, as I will be cycling later. Bloody USB splitter was only directing any power to one of them, so I had to play about, unplug my mouse and get them both charging that way. Ugh.

Ironically, Dream Work has plenty of the spacey sounds that Outer Space was lacking, an effect conveyed by soft electronic edges to many of the sounds, and a lot more room to breathe around the major themes. For all that, I don't find myself enchanted by it, there are hard edges to a lot of the sounds - the horns in particular - and it is a touch disjointed for me. It feels like the roomy sounds, smooth strings and the staccato horns are all from different compositions that just happen to be overlaid and playing concurrently. This track does feel like it is dragging by the time it starts to wrap up, to be replaced by a 20 minute epic from the Cinematics. I am grateful for the shift.

The opening of Entr'acte is very soft, quiet and understated. When the sound does rise, it is clear that whilst The Cinematic Orchestra might be the artist credit, this is not in the same vein as most of their work. The long drawn out string notes are nice, the sense of space is very much in keeping with their other work, but this is not a lush jazzy sound. This is a mood piece more reminiscent of a Vangelis or a Sigur Rós; I find myself thinking of Soil Festivities in some places, and the general feel of the Icelandic group's quieter tracks at others.

About 6 and a half minutes in there is a shift in tone, it gets a little darker and more tense. That feeling is intensified as we get a creeping bass sound, which is then overlaid by a sort of shredded pulse sound that I cannot work out. Sounds build around this unsettling centre and it swells until we hit a clear call of a note. Then silence. A piano - a melody like To Build a Home from Ma Fleur. Stirring, beautiful. This sits in the middle of the piece, a clear shift from what went before. I don't think this is really one piece in any real sense. The silences between movements belie that. The melody grows into something only to then immediately die out and shrink back. Strings come to swell the overall sound, but at the same time restore that love of the note unplayed, which seems to be a feature of Cinematics compositions.

This time we get a nice crescendo, a real sense of something building up, a subtle groove to the tune, jazz drumming under the classical swell. Oh yes. The top end gives out to frenetic strings as the drums grow in volume and pace. Those strings open out into more beautiful long notes, contrasting with the tight, breathy drums. The latter half of this piece has been top notch... as I say that we hit a snag in the last couple of minutes, as it turns into a twee little ramble then ends on a dark discord. All a little out of place. That detracts from the brilliance of minutes 12-18 in an unfortunate way, but cannot spoil my overall impression of the piece.

Two to go, and another 20 minutes. The Grey Reverend track, Regen, is also credited as a J. Swinscoe (the driving force behind the Cinematics) composition in my file metadata but I have no idea whether this is true. Googling Grey Reverend shows him to be another Ninja Tune artist, a collaborator with The Cinematic Orchestra, and a guitarist. That makes sense as the centrepiece of Regen is a guitar melody which acts as the frame to hang some emotional strings from. The tune meanders along pleasantly but unremarkably, then drops dead at around 7 minutes. It starts again very different, again re-enforcing the idea that these aren't really single tracks. The guitar is sharper, crisper, in this new tune, it stands more or less alone this time, there are other sounds there but they are distinctly second-fiddle and subservient. It is gentle, a stroll, though there seem to be the odd stray notes here and there that make it less comforting than I feel it should be. I don't dislike this piece at all, but at the same time I find it hard to really like, too.

The final piece, back in the hands of the Cinematic Orchestra, is very much movie-music. You feel like the track title is missing the final n, but the piece reflects nothing of Manhattan to me (though I've only been there the once; what do I know) so I wonder if that is meant to be an association we draw or not. The tune is nice, if not enthralling, but I have to admit I find my attention wandering. This has been a long listen and whilst it has been primarily positive, much of it is not the kind of thing you really get into, you know? The tracks are too long for that, and they are cut adrift a little without the visuals they were meant to accompany. As such I feel a tinge of gladness as the final refrains kick in then die down. There is a time and a place for these tunes, and I don't really feel that that is one after the other like this.

Interlude: Three Craws - James Yorkston

The Three Craws; James Yorkston, 2016
ISBN: 978-1-910449-76-9
Freight Books, Glasgow

Publisher site

An interlude now, as I digress to talk about a book, albeit a book by one of my favourite musicians. Yorkston picks an interesting title for his second book, and first novel, given that he, King Creosote and The Pictish Trail played gigs as a trio under that name.

The reason I am moved to write about the book here is not because I loved it, but because it was so authentically James Yorkston that I feel it merits mention alongside the music that led me to him. Set in his home turf of Fife, specifically the rural locales outside St Andrews, the style is such a good fit for the man it's uncanny.

Having seen the man play live, but also (and importantly) talk both live and on film, I found that it was easy to slip into reading his prose with Yorkston's own voice. This made for an interesting first couple of chapters, before I caught the sway of the protagonists themselves. More remarkable than hearing his voice so clearly in the text was how perfectly his way of delivering dialog in text, through italics, no quotes, no he said, immediately gelled with me. It is generally jarring, at first, when someone breaks standard conventions. "Everyone writes dialogue this way, what the heck is he doing?" Here, though, it worked for me. It fits perfectly with my picture of the author, his softly spoken tones, which lead you on a slow ramble. This is occasionally present in his music - I recall commenting on a conversational style when I sat down with the Cellardyke Recording and Wassailing Society, for instance.

The book itself is darkly comic, in a low-key kind of way. I didn't find myself relating to any of the characters much - a druggy washout, a farm labourer and an arts school graduate form our titular trio. They aren't particularly likable, sensible, or necessarily taking paths that make much sense over the course of the 210 page book. We have the viewpoint of the artist - failed, returning to Fife from London, to see his old friend. He meets the druggy on the coach and so things begin. Without wanting to spoil anything, the book paints a picture of a certain kind of rural life - one I can't speak to the accuracy of, but which is delivered with a low key charm and a wry line or two. It builds slowly, filling in this picture for us, before a twist that is signposted in some ways but a little surprising in others. The climax of the book is odd, tense and more than a little farcical, before leaving us on a very ambiguous ending.

The last two novels I have read have both ended in understated, and in some way unfulfilling ways; the previous one being Noah Hawley's Before the Fall, which I picked up on name recognition from having watched the TV show Fargo. There I felt let down, to the point that a page-turner that kept me up way too late reading turned into a not buying another one by the end. Here I am less harsh on the closing pages... whilst I did feel underwhelmed by the ending on reading it, on reflection it has an ambiguity that is rather appealing. Sometimes we are told too much. Sometimes the mysteries are unwound and the answer is rather dull. Three Craws, at least, leaves you with questions, with things to ponder. More importantly, it leaves you with a sense of place - an authenticity born from local knowledge. That clarity of picture and of voice sustained me through the book - and for that reason I would recommend it to Yorkston fans.

The Church with One Bell - John Martyn

Track list:

1. He's Got All the Whiskey
2. God's Song
3. How Fortunate the Man with None
4. Small Town Talk
5. Excuse Me Mister
6. Strange Fruit
7. The Sky Is Crying
8. Glory Box
9. Feel So Bad
10. Death Don't Have Mercy
11. How Fortunate the Man with None (Original Version)

Running time: 47 minutes
Released: 1998

This album contains one of my favourite cover songs of all time. Martyn's take on Portishead's Glory Box is inspired. I don't have that much of Martyn's back catalog - just this, Solid Air, and his debut, London Conversation. I'm not quite sure why I have such spotty coverage but there we go. Time to see what the rest of this covers album is made of.

I don't actually recgonise any of the songs here besides Glory Box for their titles, or the listing of composers in the track metadata, so it is a bit of a voyage into the unknown in that sense. The opening number is a smoothly grooved track, with Martyn's sometimes gruff voice is applied in a hushed and softened manner. The tune is not revolutionary, the lyrics not great, but the overall vibe is much more positive. Mood is a massive thing in music and where Diagrams managed to butcher the mood on Chromatics with some very bland arrangements, here the tunes maybe simple but they hit the nail on the head, and support the central draw, our star's vocal.

There is a lot to be said for execution; the band here do just that. It could just be that I am in a more positive mood today, though.

Things get a bit weirder on How Fortunate the Man with None (which appears again at the end of the disc; apparently originally a secret track, my copy - digital purchase, I think - has it credited natively). There is a shift to the main structure of the piece, losing the easy, bluesy nature of the first couple in favour of a busier sound. Electronics creeping in to form a rather off-putting loop. I say off-putting because it rather dominates the tune, and frankly its not an interesting hook. There is some decent drumming around it, but Martyn's voice is subsumed into this underwhelming, synthetic sound, killing the majesty some. Thankfully it seems to be a one-track experiment.

Martyn had great resonance, a full sound, magnetic and with a natural depth to it creating a warm sound. His voice sits so well with slow, sparse, bassy tracks. Together this creates a comfort blanket in aural form, wrapping me up and captivating my ears. This is a laid back album for the most part, a late night album in some ways; it's early afternoon now but the sheer cool of the man, his band and their source material succeed in slowing things right down. I probably need more John Martyn records.

Strange Fruit switches things up a little, opening with a sedate piano melody that lasts 80 seconds before the vocal joins in. There is a touch of percussion in there too but this track is sparse. I love the slow tempo, the vocal becoming a drawl on the low notes; it drips atmosphere and reminds me a little of Tom Waits, only more welcoming. Martyn is a better singer, his voice smoother than Waits' I think, though I would be hard pressed to say which I prefer. The slow pace is a feature of a number of tracks here, but its effect is variable. I find it less endearing on The Sky is Crying, for example.

Musically, Glory Box is a faithful cover, upright bass taking on the riff with aplomb, but the real standout is the soulful way Martyn delivers the lyrics. He turns the track - always a downtempo classic - into a blues masterpiece. There is so much character in his low, meandering take - pretty sure he injects some new lines in places - that it really is magnetic. I have always loved the original track; covers are often difficult in that situation, but this one nails the aesthetic of the track so perfectly, whilst migrating it genre-wise. I put it easily alongside Portishead's version as an equal, if not a slight improvement on it.

Feel So Bad gets an injection of life; a livelier riff - and a better use of electronica than we heard earlier - switch up the overall tone, which the tune probably needed not to pale in comparison with what came before. The quicker, louder nature of the song cleanses the palette and so obviously distances itself from Glory Box that it doesn't suffer. It is a palette cleanser, too; the slow, low sound returns after one track away. I think this is album craft, a dying skill in the day of streaming and downloads. Death Don't Have Mercy gets to return to the style used to smash earlier efforts out of the park and still stand up brilliantly because we were pulled out of our soulful reverie for a short time.

Ah, now. The "original version" (metadata tag line, not mine) of How Fortunate the Man with None that I close on... this is much more accessible, more enjoyable than the credited version. This has life, soul and more organic sound. This has a clearer vocal, no dubious electronics and a groovier bass and drums. This is good, good enough for me to ditch track 3 and be happy to lose it. Everything else? Everything else is staying because everything else is pretty darn great.

Chromatics - Diagrams

Track list:

1. Phantom Power   
2. Gentle Morning Song   
3. Desolation   
4. Chromatics   
5. You Can Talk To Me   
6. Shapes   
7. Dirty Broken Bliss   
8. Serpent   
9. The Light And The Noise   
10. Brain   
11. Just A Hair´s Breadth

Running time: 41 minutes
Released: 2015

Diagrams' follow up to Black Light never gelled with me, I think I played it once and didn't go back. It does have a cool name though, and now I get to visit it again.

It opens with space-y sounds that give way quickly to a riffy guitar, and Sam Genders' voice, distant but comforting. The guitar fades into the other sounds a bit, and there is a whistling chorus after the first verse that seems a little... odd. For all that though, it has an easily relatable rhythm and Genders is a genial vocalist. There is something about his tones that pulls you in.  The construction of the piece leaves me a little cold and flat in other ways though. The whistling does not work, and what was a strong riff to begin with dulls fast against the samey backing. I find the word "bland" coming to mind - a sense that carries over into Gentle Morning Song. I feel like the vocal deserves a little more life from the composition.

I am inside on a warm and sunny April day; this is a failure in itself - though I do have a fair few items on my agenda. I have been reading RPG systems, writing cheat sheets ahead of a GMing stint. This effort has left me feeling like anything but going out on the bike, which is really what I ought to be doing right now. Instead I sit here with a mint tea, an arched back and an album that has yet to offer up anything particularly noteworthy (though some distortion effects at the end of the second track half raise my eyebrows).

Desolation offers some hope. There is a touch more purpose in this, some contrasting tones, a nice fuzz to the bass. Genders is again distant, it seems to be a deliberate effect but it works for him. The track gives me the impression that it might be better through headphones - it feels like being constrained inside the sound would set it off. Coming out of my small speaker it's nice, but lacks a certain power. I can see it in there though - which is more than I could say for the first two tracks. Ironically, given its name, the track shines like a beacon in amongst some pretty nondescript offerings. The title track starts interesting but very quickly settles into an unsatisfying pattern that feels unambitious.

I find myself lost for words that aren't written as a track-by-track, using some time to go back and look at what I wrote about Black Light. It's not very illuminating. I describe Sam Genders as genial in a paragraph above - he really is. His tones are musical, his delivery clear, and he handles different rhythms nicely - always pushed back, further away from the listener than the various sounds that swirl around, but do not envelop, his lyrics. Its a shame there isn't a little more here to back him up. There is none of the punchy style that supported songs like Night All Night, which made it the Diagrams tune that jumps into my head when I think of the band.

As I started that sentence the track ticked over to Dirty Broken Bliss, which has a bit more character to it, a nice change of pace and form, a better contrast between the vocal and the backing. Unfortunately it then settles for being a simple repetitive pop song rather than seeking to really use the nice dynamic it establishes as a base for something more, but it is still a significant step up.

I can see exactly why I bounced off this album when I bought it - I note I referred to disappointment with it in the Black Light post. It teases interest but fails to deliver on it. It has strong points, but they are suborned to the weaker parts of it rather than the other way around. It is very flat. Moreover it doesn't really have a style. The only common thread seems to be the distance effect on the vocal; musically it veers between darker, fuzzier bass on the more impactful tracks and light 60s pop-ish sounds on others. The Light and the Noise in particular has a superficiality, a glib twang to it that turns me right off.

A slower number, Brain actually has a bit more character. I am not sure I like it, but it is different and stands out in a way that the majority of the preceding tracks simply failed to do. It opens up and flattens out as it goes, conforming more to the pattern set by the rest, but despite that retains a certain amount of charm, precisely because it did dare to be different up front. That difference returns to close the track out, too - essentially book ending a short track with sounds that actually make you pay attention to it. Alas the final track tries to repeat the "slower is more interesting" feat and ends up being mawkish and trite... the most interesting thing about it being the way it ends rather abruptly. A bold choice, that doesn't quite pay off.

I have to say I am not at all impressed with this offering. I was expecting it to be so-so, given I remembered being disappointed when I bought it, but I would go so far as to say it is actively bad for the most part. Why? Because despite having a really, really solid vocal throughout, it somehow manages to detract from that with bland tunes that deaden its impact. It really couldn't shake that first impression.

And the Rest Will Follow - The Second Hand Marching Band

Track list:

1. Those Words (demo 2012)
2. A dance to half death (original demo)
3. Were you there at St Peter's Square?
4. We walk in the room (original demo 2006)
5. We Will Convince You (original demo)
6. Transformers (B side)
7. Periphery (2011 demo)
8. Fingers Turn Blue (2012)
9. Enter the room with a loud boom (2006)
10. Church Hall (2012)
11. Children's children's children (demo 2012)
12. a+a (2008)
13. Today (2012)
14. I don't know what I need, I don't know what to say
15. Gregory (B side)
16. I went down to see Jane
17. What do you love for?
18. Only in tears/wrench of my hand
19. A hurricane, a thunderstorm (original demo)
20. Bottle of Anger (demo 2013)
21. Doorframe (B side)
22. Half Lies Through Half Teeth (demo)
23. Grit and Determination (first demo)
24. Little bit (demo)
25. Love is a fragile thing (2008 demo)

Running time: 90 minutes
Released: 2015

This was an impulse purchase... part of an entire discography. The Second Hand Marching Band made that easy by facilitating a pay what you want type deal over on Bandcamp - one cheaper than purchasing just the most recent album alone. I paid more because I have loved some of their free stuff in the past, grabbing it after I saw them live at Big Tent. This looks to run the gamut of their material, I suspect it will be rough, raw, but interesting.

The Second Hand Marching Band are a massive ensemble, playing folksy but modern tracks. The demo of Those Words downplays the size of the group. A simple brass tune and a softly sung lyric. It's a relaxed start to the collection, before we are pitched into the song that made me fall in love with the group. A Dance to Half Death is... really hard to describe. Big brassy riff, charming little chimes and guitar structure, broken voice delivering heartfelt lines. Its a a real oddball, but a real gem. In places the sounds don't quite come together right, but the earnestness of the performance outside of that allows easy forgiveness.

With it appearing as the second of 25 tracks here though I wonder if the peak is too soon into the mammoth 90 minute overall run time. It is Easter Monday; 4th day of the weekend. I should be feeling relaxed by now but I am not. Tiredness is still the dominant tide in my makeup, and I have plans later. This is my morning sorted.

From the rich deep tapestry of one track, we go to a largely solo, unaccompanied song. It has a charm to it but I am glad it runs short of 2 minutes. The transitions between pieces are sharp - they use their run time - and we are into a piece that reminds me of Amiina. There is a soft welcoming comfort in the structure and I find myself not really listening but rather sinking into the sounds and enjoying the overall ambience more than the specific sounds. Looking down the track list it is very likely I have most of these tracks on other albums picked up in the same bulk deal, over and above those that I had as freebies previously. I find that I am rather happy about this. Whilst part of the idea of this project was to trim down and shape up my library, the idea that I might actually promote some of the more obscure stuff is a positive in my mind.

I'm just saying, but this sort of sound is not what I would expect from a tune called Transformers. All lonely guitar work and soft voices. One of the reasons I fall for tracks and groups like this is that I rather value the less than perfect singing voice. There is an audible fragility in our lead vocalist, a flaw that really injects humanity into the pieces, present but not distracting from the main thrust. It is one of the things that really drew me to King Creosote originally, and he became a firm favourite. Flaws open us up, make us easier to relate to.

It amuses me to see "demo" against so many of these tracks. I am not sure the significance of it given the self-supported nature of the group - who are they demoing to? My ears (and likely my speakers) are not sufficiently good to pick up on significant differences in recording quality in those tunes I recognise. I find myself distracted; I have a silent TV on with the snooker - I don't quite know why but I think the idea of having something to pull my eye from these words every now and again was a good idea given the length of this disc; silent TVs can be mesmeric though, even when as dull as two baldies playing snooker (seriously, it's like there are three cue balls).

Church Hall has a more polished sound to it, in just about every way - including the singer's voice... until I typed that at least. I find myself really liking this piece. But I also suspect despite being a digital purchase from the band via Bandcamp this song may be mis-tagged. The lyrics constantly mention "fingers turned blue" which was two tracks back... hmm. Oh well, who cares. There's an insouciance, of all things, about some of these tracks in the middle of the run. It's quite uplifting.

I spent yesterday world-building, taking the product of my first game of Microscope and adding some detail to flesh out a setting for an RPG campaign. I should rather have been reading systems, as that is the part that is at question, but still. I am reminded how when roleplaying I often find more interest in the setup of a new game than the game itself once it gets going. With this project it is often the opposite - I find reasons not to do listens, not to sit down for that long to listen to this thing which I am not sure I will enjoy, but often when I get down to it I find enjoyment I wasn't expecting. The track that is just ending had a really aggressively struck acoustic riff; I loved it to start with, but 5 minutes later it was more of a yoke.

The track with the longest title on the album is a short one, the title "I don't know what I need, I don't know what to say" repeated in duet as structure for a little song over the top of it. It's quite amazingly good. The two lines don't compete at all, and the Scottish twang of the main singer is a real treat. There's a lovely gentle lilt to it, the breathy male/female duet on the structural title carrying a rhythm that you would never normally apply to it. I really like the track. High point 3, I think. The tracks are ticking over and time is ticking on; this hour and a half is not a chore at all.

In a different context the rawness of these tracks might be a detriment, but there is such a quiet, understated charm to the songs that immediately begs forgiveness of their weaknesses. There is no pretense here, just openness. Proper music, done for the love of it - sharing that love with those who would have it. Tone is important, here the tone is casual, warm, inclusive and laid back, even when the songs aren't so much. I suppose that is one of the things about being a 17-piece (or similar) - so many people need to buy in, even if the vision - and indeed the majority of the tune - is coming from a few.

Occasionally the songs strain our singer's voice more than is seemly. I like the hints of fragility when he holds it without quite breaking, but when it pushes that fraction further it is less appealing. Thankfully in the cases that has happened, the simple and welcoming acoustic forms of the track have provided a safety blanket. There hasn't been anything that wasn't a net pleasant experience, even when individual elements have fallen down.

I have reached track 18; there is still a whole album to go in length terms. This track has a punchy tempo, a true ensemble feel to it. In some ways it is a very weak track - the vocal is poor, distant and unengaging compared to other songs, but the energy from the band sustains it, the rhythm providing a foundation for them to elevate the vocal from downer to mere drawback.

The demo of A Hurricane, A Thunderstorm sounds very different to my memory of the final track - much more subdued. The aural picture I had in my head for this one had some bombast around the chorus, here it is a muted appeal. I suspect it is more likely the case that my memory is confusing the track with something else. The appeal here though is the roll, the pattern in the verse, the brass section providing a repeating pattern, a sway that invites you in until you are bobbing like a boat in winds much lighter than the titular storm. I would be lying if I said that every moment of this album was genius, but I don't think everything needs to be genius to be genuinely worthwhile. Genuine is a good descriptor, actually. I am not convinced that I would ever sit down to really listen to this again, but, as with compatriots Eagleowl, I find a nice easy connection to the tunes of The Second Hand Marching Band which makes them a comfort. With Eagleowl, I think the music is a little bit more special, but the same principle applies.

I think I have run out of thoughts, of words, a bit before the end. When I saw the length of this album I thought it would be tough to fit it in, it took conscious prioritisation to get to it this morning. I am really glad I did. There is an authenticity and a charm to this collection of tracks that is really uplifting. A good morning.

Christmas Giveaway 2014 - The Phoenix Foundation & Holly Beals

Track list:

1. God Rest Ye Merry Men

Running time: 3 minutes
Released: 2014

OK, so this is probably not an accurate title, but it is the one I have down as a wrapper for a single track, a festive freebie from the Kiwis.

A simple basic rhythm, and then a hushed vocal comes in and confirms it is classic carol God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen slightly re-titled.

Frankly at this point there is already no more worth saying. Their take is characteristic of the band, but even The Phoenix Foundation cannot inspire me to be interested in Christmas music, so I have no inclination to listen to this again despite the insidious way the rhythm worms its way into my brain and the interesting use of instrumentation in the bridge.

The Chopin Project - Ólafur Arnalds & Alice Sara Ott

Track list:

1. Verses
2. Piano Sonata No.3: Largo
3. Nocturne in C Sharp Minor
4. Reminiscence
5. Nocturne in G Minor
6. Eyes Shut - Nocturne in C Minor
7. Written In Stone
8. Letters Of A Traveller
9. Prélude in D Flat Major ("Raindrop")

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2015

Ólafur Arnalds is the reason I bought this. I remember thinking at the time that I would get to it soon - I had been doing this blogging exercise for a few months at the time. Now, more than 2 years later I finally get to it, not having listened to any of the tracks even once. Arnalds' compositions have moved me in the past, and whilst I don't exactly have a lot of classical music - not knowledge of, not possession of, not real interest in - I am certainly not anti-classical. It will sound trite to many to compare the classics of our forebears to soundtrack artists, but it is through soundtracks - TV, film and games - that I explore more "classical" sounds - vocal-less melodies with traditional instruments or elements. I know little of Chopin, though I seem to recall that my mother is a fan; I wonder what Arnalds adds to the underlying work, and how he combines with Ott, the pianist, to deliver that to us.

As I start the album playing, I am surprised to find Arnalds listed as the composer for a small majority of the tracks. I am not familiar enough with Chopin to reconcile that. Verses wraps us in a blanket woven of strings, a pleasant cocoon of soothing sounds, its central theme repeating through many octaves, winding down to the close. When this tune completes, we get the first blast of Ott's piano, a strong opening that relaxes back into a more sedate melody. The road outside wants to set this to car horns, very out of place in this sleepy sonata, but it persists with sirens adding to the incongruous  mix. There is an echo-y, fishbowl like quality to the sound which must be a deliberate artefact of the recording. Every so often that contrasts with a wonderfully deft flick of the fingers, producing a trill that skips away over the airwaves, gone almost before it registers.

Too much of the tune is one handed though, the depth of sound and interest are unfortunately short of something vital for large stretches. I found the richer tapestry of strings on Verses far more inviting, enveloping and rewarding. As much as I can see why tunes like this appeal, I find it less soothing because it is too slow, too sparse and the rhythm of the piece, constructed entirely from the piano, is too irregular to fall into pattern recognition and familiarity. My train of thought is interrupted by high pitched sounds. I thought woodwind at first because there was a breathy quality to the initial piercing, but as the tune moves forward it resolves that it is clearly strings. The track has ticked over and the Nocturne is keeping me at arms length, its mournful minor tones consisting of drawn out, paper thin high notes which screech into my ears in a demanding fashion.

I think the tune has improved, come to life, but in fact we have moved on again, a melody breaks out - still mournful in tone but more structured, rooted by a simple stepping bass that helps me build a connection with the piece - titled appropriately as Reminiscence. This reminds me a lot of Arnalds' work on ... And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness, and I find myself really, really liking it, my appreciation growing with each new swell of the string section. I find the end of the tune comes on rather suddenly and it lessens the overall impact a bit but that is picking nits.

It is Good Friday, start of a busy Easter weekend; plans in some form every day except Sunday - on top of a week of busy evenings. I have my nephew's birthday party tomorrow, his bedsheet-wrapped present is sitting on my dining table ready for the journey down. The odd wrapping makes perfect sense in context of the gift, but I am sure that I'll get some funny looks! Meanwhile a track that was heavy on environmental effects has passed, with what sounded like waves rolling up a beach overlayed on the music - an affectation that persists to some degree into the following number, too - though it becomes more like a constant rustling wind by that time. A fuzziness on the microphone, a blurred edge to the sound. Trying to artificially recreate some of the impurities of early recording, perhaps? Interestingly the effect drops out mid-way through Eyes Shut - conveniently times with a particular change in focus in the piano part. I was wondering before the listen what Arnalds in would add to a recording of established classical pieces and whether I would even notice; I guess in this particular piece I did.

I should mention that I really like the way Eyes Shut is this nice piano melody sandwiched between bleaker, more abstract sounds, too. Possibly another affectation, then - embedding Chopin's piece in novel composition? I would need to know more of the original work to be sure (or I could, y'know, Google it - but that holds no charm).

The idea that not knowing is sometimes better than knowing is a strange one, yet also undeniably a real thing.

I mentioned soundtracks in my introduction to this post, and Written in Stone sounds like it could be one.

I let my mind wander a bit.

I rather like this.

Looking back at that second piece with the perspective of the rest, it seems like a complete and utter trough, a low that sits out of place, undeserving of being alongside the rest of these. Not as interesting, not as captivating. I have reached the closing number now, and it has a familiarity to me that suggests it is a piece that my mum used to play. We had a grand piano in the house - she still does, though she has resolved to sell; particularly as a teenager, and again when I moved back in after university I was frequently frustrated by her sitting down to play, loudly, late in the evening when I was trying to sleep. I recognise less of the tune as it progresses though, so it may in fact be that the opening refrains have been used elsewhere and seeped into my consciousness through other media.

When I heard about The Chopin Project I didn't hesitate to buy it; I thought I would probably enjoy it or find some interest within. I did, however, hesitate to listen to it. This was the first time through; I don't think it will be the last.

The Brightness - Anaïs Mitchell

Track list:

1. Your Fonder Heart
2. Of a Friday Night
3. Namesake
4. Shenandoah
5. Changer
6. Song of the Magi
7. Santa Fe Dream
8. Hobo's Lullaby
9. Old-Fashioned Hat
10. Hades & Persephone
11. Out of Pawn

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2007

This isn't out-of-order, but filling a hole. I picked this album up in the last few days when slightly tipsy, after Mitchell's Young Man In America (my favourite track of hers that I have heard) came on and reminded me that I didn't have everything else.

Bright is a good adjective to describe the sound of the opening guitar. Clean and bold picked tones. My initial impression is that this is a lot more raw, unpolished, than what I have heard of Mitchell before but I do wonder whether that is confirmation bias: I know this is really early stuff. Her distinctive voice is there, but it isn't comfortable. At moments on Your Fonder Heart she is straining to the point of the sound going - as if she hadn't found her range or learned to compose around it yet. As the tune ends I find myself thinking of Jewel for some reason, a little sound, the choice of how to end the song or something like that.

The second tune ditches the guitar for a piano. I am not sure if this works or not. It puts me in mind of performers whose names linger just outside of my consciousness. This song is... I want to say amateur; like a house performer who would never get a recording deal. I wonder if it is padding. Don't get me wrong, there are some nice touches, but it just feels one step removed from a salable product. I wonder if, when you have a rather different voice, raw is not the draw it can be for more accessible performers. Here the edge, the tones sometimes leave the impression that Mitchell cannot sing, which is an uncharitable reading but an understandable one. Without the production to take her voice and wrap it, care for it, and present it she comes across a little like a bad talent show contestant. I don't think, if I didn't know how good she can be, that I would find much in here to like - the kind of performances that I might scoff at in a support act. As it is, I find myself getting drawn more to the tunes than to the singing, which is a pity.

There are signs though. Changer works her voice in a more appropriate way; here it has character, depth and the draw that parallels what I know she has gone on to do since. I really like this little number. Not so the next. It's not a bad tune, not badly sung, but the subject. It could be a Christmas carol, but for the tone.

Thankfully that is a brief misstep. The next tune is a really nice, laid back number - though I have to pause in the middle then restart because my physical copy of the album and the digital auto-rip version don't match. The physical turns out to be correct. For some reason the download had tracks 7 and 8 reversed - though the subject of the song in track 7 really fits with the name for track 8 too - it is the track length, printed on the rear sleeve, that confirms the error. I really don't mind the excuse to restart though, as the relaxed tone of Santa Fe Dream is, well... dreamy. Of course, the mix up would have been obvious from the first line of Hobo's Lullaby but there we go.

This album is a mixed bag. From how well the songs fit her voice, to how confidently they are presented, to the kinds of arrangements used. Ups and downs all the way. I find myself more drawn to the noodly guitar numbers, the sort that you could imagine being you or your friend piddling about in the corner on a lazy evening in. It is, incidentally, not a lazy evening right now - but a bright late morning. I am out to lunch soon. April has thus far been great weather-wise but turbulent in other ways. These more laid back wandering and simple tunes feel like a pause, a chance to catch my breath.

Hades & Persephone harks forward to Hadestown, though I am (only lightly) surprised to find the song is not repeated on that album. This is more a third person perspective though, which might have something to do with it... or not, there are several "I"s here. Ideas germinating for 3 years and more... I can relate to that in some ways. Ideas can be hard to come by; ideas can be hard to work up; ideas can be hard to present in just that right way.

Overall I come out of the album more positive about it than I felt early on in the listen. Maybe I adjusted to the mixture, maybe the later songs are stronger. I'll go with the latter. Another point worth mentioning is that I have later versions of some of these tracks on Xoa - final track Out of Pawn being an example - and it is possible that familiarity contributes too. This was otherwise my first listen to any of the tracks on The Brightness. A mixed bag, then - but more positive than not, and enough so that I want to give the weaker tracks a second chance.

Choir of Echoes - Peggy Sue

Track list:

1. (Come Back Around)
2. Esme
3. Substitute
4. Figure Of Eight
5. Always Going
6. Just The Night
7. How Heavy The Quiet That Grew Between Your Mouth And Mine
8. Electric Light
9. Longest Day Of The Year Blues
10. Idle
11. And Always Is
12. Two Shots
13. The Errors of Your Ways

Running time: 46 minutes
Released: 2014

Well, that one song title throws off the alignment of the cover image. 

Is it bad that despite this being a relatively recent album (i.e. within the last few years) I can't recall a thing about why I might have it? I suspect Peggy Sue benefited from the purchase on the back of being similar to another group - I want to say Allo Darlin' for reasons of hunch - but it may be that I just went all in on the random here.

The parentheses around the opening track title hint that this is a proto-piece rather than a true opening track. It is vocal, only. I guess they are trying to create the titular choir, there are some echoing sounds in there but... it falls a little flat. the sounds were alright but it doesn't go anywhere. A minute and a half is too short for pissing about repeating yourself to be impactful.

The first proper song has a twangy guitar part and a nice, if not brilliant female vocal. I like the languid tone, the easy familiarity of the music and the slow pace of the lines. Pleasantly it breaks out of that pattern, too. No part of the track really stands out and overall the track is just nice, not stand out, but I find myself appreciating it... before realising I forgot to switch off shuffle and am listening to Always Going and not Esme. Correcting that, once it closes, I go back to the start. More twang, and I am now getting the impression it could have been Lanterns on the Lake that brought me here - there are similarities in the vocal, and in the overall tone of the songs, if not the particulars of the musical construction. I am again, predictably, overdue this post - and to fit it in now I am having to find flimsy justifications for not doing other things, outdoor things. It's the first weekend in April, it's a nice day. I should be gardening but I am not. I should be spring cleaning, but I am not. I should be buying my nephew's birthday present... that can fit in after this assuming I remember.

A darker tone on Substitute. Very poppily so, false angst, staged almost. The edgy thrum of their guitar riff watered down from a more "serious" act or genre. I have defaulted far too much to videogames or YouTube vids for my quiet time of late, contributing to the paucity of posts. I found my keenness to keep on going wavering - not consciously, but more by the simple realisation I wasn't listening. Not throwing in the towel, more like forgetting where I was and what I was doing.In the background, whilst I agonise on this, a very bland number is playing itself out. I'll need to skip forward soon, and hope that it picks up a bit. Peggy Sue have energy and enthusiasm, that's clear. Often that is enough to produce something characterful, but that doesn't happen without effort or fault.

Oh, I like the opening sounds of Just the Night. I find myself tiring of the singer though, that languid approach, originally a draw is now a blandness, flat, a flaw. The traces of accent in her voice make my brain shut down trying to fetch the reference for who I think she sounds like, meanwhile I continue to rather like the musical crucible created for her in this track even as the vocal disappoints. The next opening hits a reference for me: First Aid Kit. No question the Swedish sisters are better though. Here we also have two meshed female voices, also have fairly simple arrangements, but it lacks the charm. The ridiculously long title creates an interest, the song fails to deliver on or justify.

I find my opinion bouncing back and forth like a squash ball - at speed, careering into walls, deforming and rebounding. There is a nice bright light touch to a lot of the playing, a tendency to create nice simple musical spaces, looping riffs, variations, overtones. These are really effective, catchy or relaxing, urgent or bright - they have a knack to changing up their theme between tracks. None of the songs really run too far with that though - they don't mash these tones together, which might take this from a pleasant album to a pretty darn good one, but leave each song to stand as an example of the tones chosen. Musically I think it works most of the time. It's the vocals that keep batting me back, pushing me away. There's a boredom in there, like she's not even trying (I'm sure she is), but I get nothing stronger than disaffected teenager, pressganged into stepping in. The flatness is an affectation, almost certainly deliberate, but it really hasn't worked for me on any track other than Always Going. Seeing a puzzle that you've solved again holds nothing like the interest of the same puzzle seen for the first time; so it feels with this vocalist.

I get the impression that this music is better consumed in shuffle form. The energy and pep in their playing could inject a change up and sense of purpose into a random selection, and as a one-off the bored teenager effect either wouldn't grate so much or (more likely) wouldn't be noticeable at all.

There are still two and a half tracks to go, but I am not sure if I have anything novel to add. I keep coming back in my thoughts to the contrast between the peppy sounds and the flatness of the overall effect. It feels disappointing, I guess - in the way that only something that offers you glimpses of goodness can. If it was flat-out bad, it's easy to draw a line under it and move on. Not delivering on promise is worse for that.  Whilst also being better - because at least there is some promise - seeing something could be so much better leaves an "if only..." hanging in the air.

I think perhaps this music would benefit less attention - a funny thing to say, perhaps, but if I were doing something else whilst listening to it, I suspect my ear would be drawn more to their creatively shaped spaces and patterns and not the lyrical content. I cut a couple of tracks, the most egregious examples of the vocal taking over and flattening everything out, and keep the rest in the hope of a more positive impression in other circumstances. It doesn't feel like an unfounded hope - there are so many nice little touches scattered through it that under another light, another form of inquiry, they can shine like the nuggets they are. The soil jut needs to be kicked and scuffed away a little first.