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.

Come Away With Me - Norah Jones

Track list:

1. Don't Know Why
2. Seven Years
3. Cold Cold Heart
4. Feelin’ the Same Way
5. Come Away With Me
6. Shoot the Moon
7. Turn Me On
8. Lonestar
9. I've Got to See You Again
10. Painter Song
11. One Flight Down
12. Nightingale
13. The Long Day Is Over
14. The Nearness of You

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2002

Yes, I own this - along with everyone else on the planet who bought music back in 2002. It was pretty hard to avoid Norah Jones' debut. What I don't remember is whether I picked it up because I'd heard it and liked it, or whether I picked it up to see what all the fuss was about. In either case, it's next on my list.

After two discs pushing the hour mark with relatively few tracks it is nice to have something short and quick through the numbers. 14 tunes in 44 minutes doesn't give each tune long to make a lasting impression, but then I don't really expect this album to leave a mark from individual tracks, rather for it to work as a mood piece. Jones' voice is lovely, and the simple and open jazzy arrangement is relaxing.

There is a lazy afternoon feel to the opening couple of songs and this is pretty much what I was expecting going in - nevermind that it is 9.30am and this is not even the second thing on my hit-list for the day. Vacation? These days time off work seems to be code for "do chores at home" as I find it tough to fit them around work days.

Jones' tones have a smokey quality to them and she sings in a way that makes the notes sound lower than they are in places. It's mass-market appeal, but that doesn't make it any less appealing. The simplistic arrangements might start to wear on me as the disc progresses though, and I can already see why opening track Don't Know Why got all the play as the next couple of songs haven't had nearly the same level of polish. This is lounge music, noughties style, falling into the semi-conscious background almost by design; I'm sure the performers would protest, but that's the purpose of mood music.

Title track Come Away With Me is next up, and even this lacks the impact of Don't Know Why. I seem to recall that the title line was featured heavily in advertising (for obvious reasons) but even that doesn't have the same easy approachable immediacy of the opening track. This short song is less afternoon, more evening, and totally inappropriate for a bright morning. Shoot the Moon is the first time I think the mark set by the first number is even close to being met again, and whilst it is cheesy in places (that guitar, really...) the sound has a nice womb-like quality, and the pacing of the vocal fits nicely.

It doesn't really feel as though the tracks are flying by, which I suppose means that some of them, at least, are rather dragging.

As much as I appreciate the ability to set a mood and nail it, as much as I like this sort of mood in the right context, and as much as I could see this as a nice enforced slowdown... It isn't morning music. Not in the slightest. I am also now convinced that I bought this to see what the fuss was about. This is going to sound bad, but to paraphrase someone I once knew it feels like "music for people who don't like music" - that is open and approachable, perfectly fine and even enjoyable, but lacking a real hook to get people to want to really pay attention. I suppose that is basically guaranteed in something that hits the critical mass of mainstream appeal across demographics, otherwise it wouldn't have got where it did.

All of which is a long winded way of saying that I like it, but I don't like it; I am happy enough hearing it, but I don't want to listen to it again. There isn't an anchor pulling me back in.

Looking down the track list in my media player, it seems that the most impactful tracks have a composer in common. Jones is singing tunes written by others, and the ones that have stood out to me on this pass through have all been credited to Jesse Harris for composition. That name means nothing to me, so I have no idea whether these are older tunes dug up, or composed for Jones by associates. In either case, Harris is credited for the three best tracks so far - Don't Know Why, Shoot the Moon and I've Got to See You Again. I don't know if this is priming, but the opening bars of another Harris-penned tune immediately seem to set a better tone again with One Flight Down. It's funny how the mind can do things like that. The song doesn't go anywhere great thereafter though.

The longer my exposure to this album the less positive the overall impression is becoming, the less it feels each new track is adding to the mix. It seems to me that you could distill the essence of Norah Jones down to a single track, play that and wow people, then leave. Which I guess is what happened around Don't Know Why. You have to hand it to her marketing team for that... selling a whole truckload of albums all around the world based on one song. In hindsight I feel suckered, I think I probably was. (I think a similar thing happened a couple of years later with Corinne Bailey Rae, too).

Not to be negative or anything (I fucking love W1A) but whilst there are some really strong points to Jones' recordings my take away from this is more one of disappointment. Her voice is smooth and pitched nicely, but it needs pairing with better arrangements, more interesting songs, to make it into a bigger selling point. As nice as it is, it isn't a voice that I would want to hear "sing the phonebook", and some of the tracks here leave me as cold as that document would.

All Hail West Texas (Remastered) - The Mountain Goats

Track List:

1. The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton
2. Fall Of The Star High School Running Back
3. Color In Your Cheeks
4. Jenny
5. Fault Lines
6. Balance
7. Pink And Blue
8. Riches And Wonders
9. The Mess Inside
10. Jeff Davis County Blues
11. Distant Stations
12. Blues In Dallas
13. Source Decay
14. Absolute Lithops Effect
15. Hardpan Song
16. Answering the Phone
17. Indonesia
18. Midland
19. Jenny (alt. take)
20. Tape Travel is Lonely
21. Waco

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2002

OK, we have an unexpected repeat now. I somehow missed that a remastered version of this favourite was available, complete with a bunch of bonus tracks and new liner notes by Mr Darnielle. I kinda had to pick it up once I saw it existed. I toyed with the idea of just listening to the new stuff, but... nah. I don't think I'll be able to make comparisons with the prior release because I'd have to listen to each track twice back to back. Just previewing it whilst ripping it sounds clearer in places but that could be kidology. 

This may have been available at the point when I bought All Hail West Texas for the first time; I don't really recall how long I have had, and loved, this material. Still, here I am, with something to listen to...

There is still a crackle at the opening of The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton, and Darnielle's voice sounds properly scratchy. Actually I catch myself thinking that the remaster may have more scratch and interference on it than the original issue. This feels rawer, fuzzier and harder to like, but I suspect a lot of that is rose tinting from the time since I last played the record. The fuzziness is unavoidable in a way that perhaps a flatter mastering tempered. What do I know? Nothing, that's what.

Colour In Your Cheeks is peppy, the riff is a little blurred by the recording but the punchy, separated blocks as it cycles through the keynotes are genius in terms of pacing and framing the track. On this track the vocal fares better - clearer for sure - and this carries over into Jenny, though the clarity here comes from proximity and volume, with the voice blocking out the general fuzz on the track. There is a really nice snap in the post-chorus guitar. Whilst the buzz on the line (as it were) is ever present, the vitality and essence of these songs is immense and immediate. I recently picked up the Goats' latest issue, Goths, and despite the more modern releases having more sophistication in terms of production the songs have but a little of the compel that I feel from these. Maybe that is the younger, angrier nature of things shining through and bringing energy, maybe it is that the creative well ran deeper, maybe I'm just so not a goth that an album of that name couldn't inspire... who knows.

Balance is a fucking awesome track. One of my all time faves. The guitar work guts me, the vocal punches the scar. It rips through me and leaves me happier for it.

Somehow that tune also seems to avoid the interference from the artefacts of recording, but I suspect that's my mind screening it out because of what the song does for me. In any case, I notice the buzz back hard on the follow up, which has a softer tone - what with dealing with new parenthood and all. At times it feels like the tape hum is being employed as a bassline, at others the frequency is subsumed by the lower thrum of Darnielle's guitar.

In truth I am not sure what the remastering adds (or removes) - no surprise there - but I am really looking forward to the new tracks. This is a first listen, albeit one where the first 66% is familiar. There is a nice clarity to the strumming on The Mess Inside, a rougher edge to the emotional, almost shouted vocal. The melody supports that emotion well, the lyrics demand it, and the track is powerful as a result.

Summer is gone; travel schedules have been messed up, it's raining heavily (or was until recently), and I've been feeling lonely of late. Making space for this listen is a good enforced stop and take stock. The songs on this disc are ones where paying some attention yields rewards, but they are also familiar friends by now. Walking the line between giving my ear, relaxing into the familiar structures, and actually commenting on things is a tricky one. I realise that I didn't really comment too much on things with the original listen - there is a bit more here already than on that post - but I don't necessarily feel a strong need to say much about these tunes. Yes, this album is a strong favourite, and one that I could evangelise about to someone I thought might appreciate it, but I have long since backed off from spreading the word into a soundless void, and on the off-chance any human being stumbles over this post then the only ones who read it will be familiar with the work anyway.

Ugh - that last sentence is my mind in a microcosm right now. Wrapped up in self admonishment and self pity. That's what I started the listening to push back against. Funny how bringing it up worked as a sort of focusing device, and not in a helpful way.

For what it's worth, I haven't really got any more fond of Blues in Dallas than I was originally.

The plus point of that observation is that we are almost onto the bonus tracks, the things I haven't heard yet. There is a little bit of trepidation there - I might be building them up too much, putting too much wait on their being contemporaries of the original set. They will be of interest, at least - even if they disappoint.

There is a lovely road trip image associated with Source Decay, partially from the lyrics, partially from memories of driving to it - even if that driving was on my regular commute. They are nice images, those memories - fields between villages, few cars on the road. They're probably not reflective of the actual journeys. I find myself drifting a little, then refocus my thoughts. I suspect that the remaster concentrated on cleaning up the guitar parts, because this is always pretty clear. The hums, thrums, and fuzzes from the recording are ever present, but they generally affect the voice more. In all - I don't find any significant differences in the fourteen original tracks.

There is some dead air before the bonuses begin - silence on the end of Absolute Lithops Effect. Then some oddities. Then Hardpan Song. First impressions are that it is sort of bland. Darnielle speaks his way through his lyrics as much as anything, and whilst there is clearly some urgency in the guitar work the riffs  don't have the immediate pull that they might have. That, though, is remedied on Answering the Phone - which harks strongly back to The Mess Inside, but veers into darker sounds rather than raw emotional ones, with lyrics to match. The sound here is raw, much more so than the previous tracks, but that doesn't seem to be universal to the bonuses as the next song doesn't have that same feel.

This track is busier, faster guitar work - fitting more notes in, rather than genuinely maintaining a faster pace. Its a nicer song for it. The strumming has a depth and melody to it that is often lacking on this album, and provides a welcome change. These bonuses are short numbers on the whole, racing by before I can really coalesce any worthwhile thoughts. I'll settle for a nod that they do, generally, fit with the tone of the core. That is helped, I guess, by one of the new ones being a re-recording of Jenny with a few variations in guitar and different pacing in the vocal in a couple of spots, but it definitely applied before that tune hit.

It still applies to Tape Travel is Lonely, though only just. There are definitely common elements here, but this song feels different in vocal style and lyrical focus. Less personal somehow - meaning less about people more than anything else; the track also ends abruptly, a little oddly. Then I am on the final stretch.

Last track Waco ends abruptly too, and the room falls silent. Run out of tape, John? Overall I am glad I bought this, and whilst I could probably cut the original album at this point I don't feel inclined to as having both gives more chance for those songs to come up! I might make a gift of the original hardcopy though, try to find someone to induct into the world of The Mountain Goats.

Cobblestone Runway - Ron Sexsmith

Track List:

1. Former Glory
2. These Days
3. Least That I Can Do
4. God Loves Everyone
5. Disappearing Act
6. For a Moment
7. Gold in Them Hills
8. Heart's Desire
9. Dragonfly on Bay Street
10. The Less I Know
11. Up the Road
12. Best Friends
13. Gold in Them Hills (remix)

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2002

If nothing else, Ron Sexsmith conjured an evocative title for this record. Picked up after I got into Sexsmith through Blue Boy, I think there are some gems to be uncovered here despite my moving away from his music in the years since.

Former Glory is a gentle start, rough voice over a simple melody, themed of hope despite some challenges, nostalgia winning out and being a good thing. Bright and breezy in length as well as sound it is a smart little opening. I am sat here tired as a dog, all night indigestion meaning no sleep, so the gentle opener is a welcome thing.

These Days has a bit of strut to the rhythm, but I find I cannot but think of the Danny and the Champions of the World song of the same name instead. This tune is somewhat dull in comparison, but again rather gently so. The snap in the drums is nice, and the tune just about sustains itself as the song meanders on its lazy way. Ron Sexsmith is an odd duck - a prolific songwriter whose tunes have been sung by much bigger names to greater acclaim. A soft soul with a clear talent but not always with the performing chops to pull things off. For me, now, his songs here fall into the "nice" category - they're pleasant enough, but not excitingly so. Not offering anything much to get my teeth into, not offering any standout moments, structures or lines that grab attention.

His voice is not the most accomplished. Whilst I have a lot of time for unconventional voices, Sexsmith's voice on God Loves Everyone is more a question of a conventional voice that can't quite pull off what he is trying to do. It cracks a little, where a purer voice would carry the tune through. It is a shame because without those small cracks around the edges there might actually be that x-factor to some of these songs. That said, there are times when that slight broken edge actually makes his tunes. More on that later.

He returns to a more low-fi sound and twangy guitar for Disappearing Act - a more grubby sort of tune, and this suits him a bit better in my book. This tune is catchy, guitars, background keys and a rough vocal that suits the imperfect sound of the song as a whole. I rather like this one, it has a rawness to it that lends it authenticity, and connectivity. After a rather forgettable filler we hit the high point of the album - at least from memory - and this is one of those moments where the cracks in Sexsmith's voice lend gravitas to his work.

Gold in Them Hills is a wonderful, wonderful tune. Simple piano melody and his soft, stretching voice conveying a real sense of sorrowful hope - the message that, yes, things are bad now, but they'll get better. It is a really accomplished number, strings coming in to add weight to the tone, voice straining on the higher notes - conveying the importance of the message, the personal nature of it. I heard this song first in times that were less good, mental well-being wise, and I found strength in it them. Now I just find it a lovely little number.

Whilst trying to avoid a track-by-track I find myself reading a couple of other websites and getting annoyed with the way so many people on the net seem to write one-sentence paragraphs. It looks lazy and child-like to me. The odd short para to visually break up a wall of text is a good thing but every sentence being its own thing looks tacky (take note BBC online - a chief offender here). Of course, I look back up the page here and see a set of very similar length blocks and I don't think that works any better; what is that saying about stones and glasshouses?  On the Record, a perfectly OK song has changed character with a long guitar-led outro, then given way to the disco-styled Dragonfly on Bay Street. This has a difference to it that makes it quite refreshing. It's not really a disco tune, but the rhythm and bass have an electronic fuzz to them that put this musically outside the general pattern of the album. I find myself rather liking it - it's massively watered down as compared to actual practitioners of these types of tunes but that helps make it his, y'know? That, and when it ends we are immediately back into soft ballad and acoustic guitar territory.

This listen feels like it has gone on forever, but this is really quite a short album. Normally that would signify not enjoying it, but... I am?

Putting a short line in there feels rather artificial given the previous stanza but that thought was a genuine one that hit me and I felt needed to be communicated as it is very much in the spirit of this project. Just two short numbers to go, then a remix of Gold in Them Hills to finish. The first of that trio of tunes is pitched lower and fits his voice rather well as a result, but when the vocal disappears what is left is pretty forgettable - a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde number then. This is followed by a sub 2-minute ramble with nothing much worth mentioning. The closing remix adds a tinny quality and unneeded electronic beats to a tune that was pretty much perfect as it was. There is, perhaps, also a nice tonal effect added to some of the keyboard notes, but the cost of adding this nice touch is too high.

The album goes out with a bit of a whimper really. I should perhaps cut a number of the weaker tracks here, but for some un-communicable reason I don't really feel like doing so.

Castaways and Cutouts - The Decemberists

Track list:

1. Leslie Anne Levine
2. Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect
3. July, July!
4. A Cautionary Song
5. Odalisque
6. Cocoon
7. Grace Cathedral Hill
8. The Legionnaire’s Lament
9. Clementine
10. California One / Youth and Beauty Brigade

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2002

I got into The Decemberists with The Crane Wife. I remember really liking them at first but not really gelling with the direction they went later on - though I bought a couple more later discs before I stopped paying attention. Most of the Decemberists tunes that I can call to mind are from Crane Wife or Picaresque and even seeing them here, many of these titles inspire no memory at all. Rather than coming forward, this goes back to the start. As such, I hope this will be like rediscovering an old favourite.

We are straight into strident chords and a comfortable rolling pace, creating a solid base for a melody that is dominated by Colin Meloy's voice. The top end is really only there when the singing isn't, it counterpoints the distinctive accented style and long notes. Oh, it is there under the voices too, but subdued by them. I rather like this as an opening; it tells you instantly what the band are about - both musically and lyrically; it is a ghost story, whether invented or spun from traditional tales I know not.

There is a more lyrical quality to the next track (actually the transition was pretty seamless and I almost missed it). Here the music is more than just a support for the sung part. It isn't flashy, but there is more melody there; it sounds more "modern" - this is more clearly a pop song with tinges of the folk / Americana / country influences than a folk song, whereas Leslie Anne Levine had more of a rootsy feel to it. Suddenly there is another change; it feels as though this album sets off at a pace. Subconsciously I think I was expecting long drawn out tunes but the longest in the first half of the album is only a touch over 5 minutes. The second half is a little longer, but its really only two tracks that go beyond a standard pop-y, radio-friendly length.

Meloy's voice is not exactly musical, but it makes up for that with disctinctiveness. I can't quite bring to mind an appropriate adjective for it... there is I guess a certain whine to it, but I wouldn't call it whiny. It just has an uncomfortable stretch to it rather than a rounded sound. This actually works really well with some of the arrangements - meshing together to create an evocative sound; its perfectly suited for slow numbers like A Cautionary Song, for instance, where there is an edge to the track as a whole. I don't know if I have a thing for slightly odd voices, but I certainly have a few of them scattered through my collection.

Where there are keys here, they are an organ of some kind. This provides a shrill touch in Odalisque, for instance. In some ways the organ sounds out of place with the rest of the constructed sound - electric organs are certainly non-canonical for folk - but it offers a needed contrast. There is a lot of murkiness in this tune and the organ cuts through the swirling low guitars brilliantly. The next number drops all of that busy low sound altogether. In its place we have a low-tempo, largely piano driven melody with very clear and stark percussion. Cocoon does swell and crescendo in places, and when it does it has some real character, but I find the basic form of this track lacking in interest. The melody is over simple, and the vocal feels isolated, ungrounded and illustrates the weaknesses in the singing rather than adding interest to a more textured sound. It isn't a bad song by any stretch, just a little plodding and drawn out to really engage me.

There is perhaps more switching of tone than I was expecting on the disc. I guess I had mentally pigeonholed The Decemberists in a certain style. Of course as I think about it this seems ridiculous - there is plenty of variety on the albums that I can easily bring to mind. I suspect it might be a reflection of my lack of engagement with the direction they went later and of seeing them as a band that sings stories. I think the latter is still true, and a big part of the appeal, but there is no reason why stories need to be told in the same style.

I like the lyrical approach on The Legionnaire's Lament. The rhyming pattern and the structure of the lines has a gentle but fundamental appeal. Coupled with the way the words are delivered and the militarily precise percussion it sets the tune up brilliantly. It sounds sparse in arrangement but it has an incessant quality to it, a persistence. It isn't fast, but feels relentless, the snap of the snare carrying the tune along, right up to the denouement, when the top end are left to wind us out. This then provides a rather jarring transition as Clementine is so slow and low it almost feels like we have a vacuum. The drop in volume and tempo is enervating and ultimately leaves me with little interest in the song. This is a shame, because actually the gentleness of the track is rally well done, long notes that fashion a comfortable crucible for the words; it suffers for too much contrast with what came before. Too much contrast; that's not like me.

There is a comfort in California One, too. It has a stately pace, but a warm bassy thrum. Unfortunately I find that this only sustains it so far. That stately pace becomes a yoke, dragging it down once it becomes clear that there isn't going to be a lot more to the first half of this track.  My interest perks up again as we reach the hand-off from California One to Youth and Beauty Brigade. Tension appears, a taught segment with a low whisper, then a bit more pace. I find, though, that it doesn't last. The sounds don't quite gel for me, the organ too harsh, the crashing cymbals obscuring and dominating when they're hit. It leaves me feeling less positive about the album as a whole... funny how that can work; the final strains leaving a stain over the experience that preceded them. For all that, I enjoyed this listen. The raw ingredients that made up my first exposure to The Decemberists are all here, less polished than on The Crane Wife, but clearly in place. It makes me wonder if when I actually listen to them (eventually) I will increase my appreciation of the later albums, or re-enforce the impressions I carry around in my head.

All the Records on the Radio are Shite - Ballboy

Track list:

2. Stars and Stripes
3. Building for the Future
4. Welcome to the New Year

Running time: 11 minutes
Released: 2002

Oh my god. I had three Ballboy tracks without proper metadata lying around in my library - I think from a purchase from their site way back, though I can't be sure. Randomly I stumbled over their provenance on Amazon, and now I have them identified - and a trip back to A to cover them.

I don't have the title track for this EP here, as I have that on the full album A Guide for the Daylight Hours, which will appear under G, because reasons. In any case, Stars and Stripes is the stripped down Ballboy rather than the all guitars blazing version. Gordon McIntyre's voice over a gentle rolling guitar tune. It's alright. It's not the emotional punch to the gut that Ballboy's best tunes are. This might just be because I don't find it easy to relate to these particular lyrics. I find that it goes on a little too long for what it is. There is an attempt to save it by adding a bit more oomph into the arrangement towards the close, but it is too little too late. I can't part with it - I don't dislike it and I feel a strange loyalty to a band like Ballboy who lay the feels out open for us to gawp at.

Building for the Future is a bit more orchestrated, more of a band effort. It feels a little flat and distant though, a slight disconnect between the music and the main vocal. The harmony on the chorus saves it a little there. It is an unconventional pairing, and I think that works with the slightly awkward space between words and music. I just wish the backing track had a bit more to tug the heartstrings... they bring in mournful cellos (or similar) around the 3:30 mark and it lifts the track, but unfortunately it is an either/or with the vocals.

Am I just being harsh because I have had a bad day? It's possible. Third and finally we have Welcome to the New Year - back to just a simple guitar part and a downbeat vocal. Yep, sounds like New Year to me. "Sometimes I hate myself" forms a core of the lyric; that I can relate to; this month has not been easy on me mentally and I don't really know why. This is the best of the three, even though Gordon is straining his voice in places. It has the right tone, and the right substance to connect with my current headspace. Would I find it the best of them under other circumstances? I'm not so sure. That said, though, this kind of mood and circumstance is what I find Ballboy great for.

Brimstone & Blue - Nigel Stonier

Track list:

1. Tricks
2. Me And St. Jude
3. World In Denial
4. Love And Love And That Sort Of Thing
5. Josefs Train
6. Blue Shadow
7. Wild And Beautiful
8. Looking Out For You
9. Giddy Thing
10. Broken Moon
11. One For The Ditch

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2002

Nigel Stonier is only in my record collection because of Thea Gilmore. As her husband, and regular part of her backing band, Stonier has had a big hand in Gilmore's career, at one point during which she was my favourite artist. I've grown away a little - still preferring her earlier, younger, work to more recent releases. This album is contemporary of Rules for Jokers and Loft Music - the latter of which sees Gilmore covering Josef's Train. On this disc she provides backing and Stonier is thrust forward, a position that doesn't always suit him. However it opens strongly - Tricks is one of those tunes that if a shuffle takes me close, and I'm sat in a position to intercept, I inevitably end up having to put on. It's also our opening number.

Thrumming bassy chords and a guitar more stricken than strummed, my love for this song comes from the lyrics as much as its catchy sparse composition. A clever, but sad, song about the end of a relationship it kicks most such ditties into touch. I'm a sucker for the long lonely notes it ends on, too. If I was being trite about things I'd stop the listen now, call this a favourite and be done, but there are 10 other tracks here that I rarely give any time at all to get through first. The first of those is pedestrian - slow, and staid. No catchy riff here, no clever lines to excuse it. It is better in full flow than when it is building, but Me and St. Jude don't get on fantastically.

World in Denial sounds like it could have come from Rules for Jokers; the guitar work is very reminiscent of... one of Gilmore's tracks I can't remember by name right now. It is a little brighter in tone, a little livelier, and a bit more palatable for it, a catchiness to the cadence keeps me engaged through the song, even as the horns that back the chorus cause me to raise an eyebrow. They sound out of place somehow, maybe synthesized? We then devolve into happy-clappy folk rock for a rather forgettable track, notable just for some long modulated notes that give it a sense of Americana, even as the feel of the track (and the vocal in particular) are very, very British. The funny thing is, I can't see myself getting rid of any of these tracks - even though listening to them I don't think too much of them; this disc has some kind of appeal all the same.

I prefer Gilmore's cover of Josef's Train, but I do like the song. A rail song, a solo journey, there's a beauty in the picture it paints; I just think that picture is prettier in a simpler arrangement and with a female voice - a little bit of vulnerability, or rather of less solidity perhaps. Here there's a bit too much depth with strings - tight ones at that - and the jangling guitar part is a bit too strong. Stonier's voice is not ill-suited to the number though. He is not a natural front man, giving the impression of being a little awkward about the attention, whilst clearly being an accomplished, if not an outstanding, musician. His songs betray that a little, nothing too ambitious please. That means that where the lyrics don't pick him up and carry him through, the songs tend to the repetitive and safe. Pleasant enough I guess but not exciting.

The title for the album comes from Wild and Beautiful. This also has the feel of a Thea Gilmore song - just that little bit safe musically but interesting lyrically and so engaging enough to carry through for the duration of a pop song. If I simply applied the criterion "would I ever choose to listen to this?" to these songs I think only a few would be kept but again in considering it I feel an emotional attachment that makes that difficult. Aren't humans odd? Looking Out For You would be one of the keepers, just peppy enough to keep ticking, drums and guitar sync well and the harmonisation on the chorus works as well as you would expect from a practiced couple. It's a distant third behind Tricks and Josef's Train, but a nice song in its own right.

The last three tracks spark little or no memory from reading the names, and little if any more from hearing the first strains in the case of Giddy Thing, which is a horrible song title. Giddy is an awkward word (and awkward describes itself well, too!), and using "thing" about the object of your affection - for this is a love song - is staggeringly odd. I have had a poor day, of feeling everything I touched turned to poop. This has been a salvation of my evening - turning that frustration into a more positive direction. It would have been nice to have something to rave about, rather than be lukewarm as I have here, but still. The evening has still beaten the day - England even beat Germany. What next, flying pigs? Broken Moon is more recognisible once I hear the first strains. I can imagine it being a decent live song, but I find it too formulaic on record, and then we are into the closer.

One for the Ditch is clearly a closing track - its a come-down song, suppressed, soporific, apologetic. A road song in the "one for the" sense. These types of songs work to phase you out quite well, though here Stonier moves past what his singing voice can really handle in places. When the ode to the drunks fades out I am ready to down tools and to bed. I still steadfastly refuse to cull here; I still can't put my finger on why.

Blue for the Most - Abraham

Track list:

1. Magpie
2. Stay Here
3. What Gives With You
4. City For Us
5. Start The Song Backwards
6. Blue For The Most
7. For All The Times
8. Heather
9. Freedom's When
10. On A Plane
11. Ever So Slowly

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2002

So there was a point I bought up a lot of downtempo electronica. I think I was inspired by how much I loved Bonobo's Animal Magic (that may well end up the most linked post in the blog) and just made purchases of fancy in that general direction. I am pretty sure that is how I happened upon Abraham. I recall really liking this album - particularly the title track and the opener, Magpie. However I don't think that I have once thought of it or played it in the last couple of years (Last FM confirms no scrobbles since 2013). I really don't expect it to stand up, thinking instead that I will see it for the faddish purchase it was, but we'll see.

The early strains sound dated. The vocal is still pretty but - and I'm going to run into this again when I unearth my Zero 7 albums, I'm sure - it just feels... old, tired. Early noughties chill, no place in the modern world. Yet I have need of open lazy time more than ever of late. Despite really appreciating the target goal of the track, I am just not seeing how it engenders it. It's a little too empty, and that was one of the songs I remembered fondly.

Stay Here is familiar once the lyric gets moving and suffers from the same problem. There is sod all of any interest going on in the composition. Boring rhythm that is just a little too persistent, lack of any melody worth the name. The voice doesn't hold the same lustre as it did on Magpie either. It has some kind of dirty effect applied, making it breathier, grubbier; duller. The next track is worse - it adds more variation in the arrangement but that is achieved by cheesy synth sounds that make my toes curl. I don't know if I am just in the wrong mindset for this or whether I somehow blinded myself to tracks full of faults in search of a sound that others did better. What really astounds me sitting here in 2015 is that I bought another Abraham record after this one. The one thing I will say in its favour - the songs are shortish and so it won't keep me too long. Somewhere along the line they might just manage a decent blend of interesting patterns to go with the singing which is, at least, consistently pleasant. Its problem is that pleasant is certainly not enough - not any more.

I wrote the intro, that describes this as faddish, a few days ago. I have only just re-read the sentence. Sometimes one has a sense for these things. In fairness, I think the particular style of music that this espouses is a really hard one to do with any kind of longevity. This would have only worked because there were a hundred and one different groups churning out "chillout" music with ethereal vocals and plenty of space to relax into; it was everywhere, you couldn't escape it and frankly it was a darn site less annoying than Nu-Metal.

Hmm - the title track just started. Here the organ line lends it a freshness, supporting the singer a little more. There is still a lot of blandness in the rest of the piece but it is a very noticeable jump in interest. I was all set to be sceptical of it given how little Magpie still appealed, but this? Its alright. Not stellar, but it actually has enough to it to work and hit the target it was shooting for. You have three or four things happening throughout the track which helps stop any of them from becoming too dominant or repetitive and it allows her voice to soar and engage. My listen seems to be blighted by odd jumps - a bad rip, perhaps? - but that is a big step up from boredom. The next track even threatens to pick up the baton and keep the level at an acceptable level for a while, but then just fails to build on a start that had enough in terms of rhythm and synth strings to build false promise. It quickly settles into a rhythm which is disappointing. It is still miles more interesting than the first 5 tracks though.

I have had a strange few days, to the point I am finding that I need every second I can to try to de-clutter my mind. I am just constantly mentally switched on at the moment and it means that I am not finding time for active participation in fun. Weirdly I find this sort of stream-of-consciousness effort conducive to that mental decompression. I switch off the parts of my brain that are chewing over things and just let surface thoughts run wild. That's probably why the opening is quite so negative. I don't like ragging on things really - I would far rather say something is not for me than that it is bad, and be on far more safe ground if I did. That said, I don't think the "one in a crowd of many" spirit of the comments is particularly unfair or unkind. Abraham certainly were not the most celebrated of the downtempo clones that appeared with the new millenium, they are also probably far from the worst. They just happen to be the lacklustre one that I have the misfortune to be spending my Thursday evening with!

The digression of the previous paragraph signifies a return to the flatness I felt listening to the first half of the disc. There just isn't quite enough happening here to switch on and tune my ears in to, and neither is it having a soothing, relaxing effect. There is something a little... awkward about some of the rhythms employed, exacerbated by the odd skip or jump in the playback which has persisted past the one song, which prevents me from finding the pieces as placating as I am sure they were intended to be. I am into the last couple now, and the vocal performance on On a Plane is more daring, stretching and soaring like the subject of the title (I have not picked out the lyrics enough to say whether it fits the subject of the song). Alas whilst that is interesting and a welcome stretching of the safety the other tracks have been mired in, it is paired with a particularly dull backing and so on balance the tune is no more appealing to me than any of the rest. A shame really.

I think this vocalist could have been wonderful with a more inspired tune to back her up, but alas what she seems to hve been working with is distinctly middle of the road, uninspired, even phoned-in arrangement. There are warbles and tinkles on the final track that remind me of some of the sounds used on Premieres Symptomes by Air... but where there they are (from memory) used as part of a sonic construction to build interest, here they are left isolated. The difference in impact is therefore immense and ultimately I find my prediction confirmed. Only the title track really stood out; only the title track survives the swing of the axe.

Bloodsport - Sneaker Pimps

Track list:

1. Kiro Tv
2. Sick
3. Small Town Witch
4. Black Sheep
5. Loretta Young Silks
6. M'aidez
7. The Fuel
8. Bloodsport
9. Think Harder
10. Blue Movie
11. Grazes

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 2002

This album I remember as being full of really vital songs. Great tunes, but not necessarily a great album. I always contrasted it with Splinter, which was a far more cohesive experience with good, but not so great, individual songs. I don't quite know whether the anger and fire I remember as fueling this record will still give me a kick these days, now I'm not so young anymore. 

The staccato opening to Kiro TV remains fresh in the memory, and the nasal, edgy tone to Chris Corner's voice really sets the track off. The chorus is better than the rest, it seems to climax, come together in a synergy greater than the sum of its parts. In the verse its functional but dull, but with the injection of a bit more life and an extra effort or two in the singing it lights up. Grubby underground club film scene, side orders of sleaze and a certain type of movie-influenced sexuality. The confluence of factors works, whilst never leaving me comfortable listening to it.

Midweek. Busy week. My only night here at home, after a day of isolation working from my front room. And I just watched the first episode of Ben Whishaw vehicle London Spy on iPlayer. The only option for a listen and this - as well as being next cab off the rank - is a good fit. Sick uses strings and a guitar loop in place of the club-like sounds in places, a lighter touch to the music but not to themes. This is not happy positive stuff at all, but urgent and evocative. A sense of antipathy and misanthropy drips off every word, a feeling reinforced by the musical structures.

That restrained hate gives Bloodsport a vitality, an angst and a purpose that I really like in my music. It isn't screaming rage, its contained, let out with control to create something. Its a positive expression, harnessing negative emotion for effect. Whether deliberate, or just something I am inferring from the strain in his voice and the dominant tones in the construction I couldn't say, but I remember having this exact same reaction back when I first heard these songs, and having the same positive opinion of the disc. The guitar wobble in the hook of Black Sheep adds a sense of loneliness to the track, even as layering of the vocal builds a sense of a wider world. It strikes me as a very effective combination for the song, isolating and ostracizing. I really couldn't have stumbled onto a more appropriate album to listen to this evening all told. The song itself is one I remember liking but despite liking the effect outlined above, I find it a little flat as a piece of music tonight.

There are electronic beeps ending one track and making a seamless transition into Loretta Young Silks, which actually has a rather off-putting vocal staccato effect I don't remember. Once the song proper starts that fades away, thankfully, and its a head-noddy nothingness. Until, that is, the chorus hits. Like Kiro TV before it, the chorus just injects a sense of hurt, of being wronged, of disdain, into both the music and the vocal that the song takes off. The three choruses are certainly enough to drag the track up to a point where I would consider it the high point so far.

There is a significant shift in tone then. M'Aidez is a strained vocal, but the musical theme is much, much lighter, floating. There is still a darkness lurking there, but it has the impression of being to this album what How Do is to Becoming X. I suppose it works to cleanse the aural palette but I am not sure it is needed and as it goes on I am getting more and more thrown out of the appreciative mood that I was in at the end of the prior track. Thankfully it is a minor misstep; The Fuel is pure energy. The tension comes back in the second it starts, but it takes until the rhythm really establishes for it to generate the pure driving momentum I remember the track for. I see visuals of someone forcibly walking through crowds on dark, rain-swept back streets, fighting past exposed metalwork, dudes twice their size and dangerous ladies with far too many piercings. Always moving, always bobbing. I don't see it as vehicular movement, but constant personal flow. It's really hard to sit still and type with that bass. I really like this track in case you hadn't worked that out, despite never having been into the club scene, and particularly not the kind of club scene I imagine when I hear these kind of tunes.

The title track bleeds off the excess movement. Whilst still tense it is much more introspective and almost soft by comparison despite the heartache of the lyrics. "Love is just a blood sport" is a pretty epic level of cynicism that I used to share. Now I just feel too far removed from the sentiment in anything other than a familial sense to comment - I am far less bitter about this than I was when I was in my 20s. The track is catchy enough but at five and a half minutes it feels like it drags on a bit too far, so I am happy when we tick over to Think Harder. This track has the pace and energy of The Fuel, harnessed differently. It's less tense, less pent up, more act of release, the solution not the question, and - ironically - act, don't think. The image it generates is more of a chase, making snap decisions to escape. The cognitive dissonance between the image I get from the music and the content of the chorus lyric is a minor barrier, and does not impede my enjoyment of the tune.

It comes to a rather abrupt stop though and the last couple of tracks are less energetic. The sense of misanthropy returns with Blue Movie, which makes me picture a broken society living in run down neighbourhoods rather than anything even remotely sexy despite the obvious pornography references in title and lyrics. The whole piece falls flat for me, and there I must refrain from making poor taste jokes given the lyrical content. Why Amazon, from whence I pulled the track list, had the last track as "Crazes" not "Grazes" I don't know, but such things are easily corrected. This track I like despite it not having the urgency, the energy or the power of the higher tempo tracks. There is still a spirit of injustice and an air of hurt in the vocal, but the music is lighter. It remains grounded where M'Aidez floated a bit too much, a solid central structure and return to less open lines forgiving the somewhat overwrought soaring in the vocal come the chorus. I had forgotten the sonic discomfort that followed the first chorus, but it serves to offset the looseness in the long syllables and held notes. Its the simple but catchy percussion that sells the track though - strong enough to come through and create the structure, but light enough not to dominate the parts laid over it.

Overall? It's not quite the string of stellar tunes that I perhaps considered it a decade ago, but I still really like parts of it. They feel appropriate, they engender strong responses. The weak points are less forgivable than they were, and I still reckon it isn't a patch on Splinter, but it will be years before I get to cover that on this project and who knows... by then I'll probably have forgotten the whole bloody disc or only like Country or something. There is no such thing as a fair comparison in this space.

Blood Money - Tom Waits

Track list:

1. Misery Is The River Of The World
2. Everything Goes to Hell
3. Coney Island Baby
4. All the World Is Green
5. God's Away On Business
6. Another Man's Vine
7. Knife Chase (Instrumental)
8. Lullaby
9. Starving In The Belly Of A Whale
10. The Part You Throw Away
11. Woe
12. Calliope ( instrumental )
13. A Good Man is Hard to Find

Running time: 37 minutes
Released: 2002

Blood Money was released along with Alice, or darn close to it at least. I don't think it is in the same league as its companion, but there are a couple of tracks that jump out simply from the names.

The first of those is our opener. Misery is the River of the World isn't exactly a phrase that trips off the tongue of most people but Waits carries it off with aplomb. Like Alice, this is tumbledown, vaudeville, tarnished - and yet the value of what lies underneath is clear. There is nothing tuneful about the song but it is utterly compelling, an insistent stomping accompanying Waits gruff intonation over a miscellany of other sounds. Atmospheric. Intense... but not quite Alice, you know? The connection between the releases makes that thought unshakable and it is unfortunate because it does this part of our troubadour's output a disservice.

Everything Goes to Hell is not in the same league for compulsion. It shares a lot of characteristics with what came before, and has a sense of place and understated appeal about it, but simply not as strong. It does fully conjure images of dirty cramped alleyways and rats scuttling away from tramps coming out of tents though, so it is with some relief that we divert into Coney Island Baby with its slightly off-key piano and Waits in disheveled crooner mode, a trick he pulls off wonderfully. This song is far more melodic than the prior two, but no less redolent of decay - like a seaside town that hasn't seen a visitor in a decade. There is a weariness and a melancholy, but also a refusal to simply lay down and die - opening up each day in case this is the one that the hordes return.

I really, really, like the imagery - I find it really satisfying in its vividness.

All the World is Green is an uplifting title, and my recollection is that the chorus is similarly positive, so I am surprised when the main musical theme that kicks it off is almost as dark as that on Misery is the River of the World. Its funny what we recall and what we forget, even about the same darn thing. I tell you now that I am remembering that I like this album. I really do not recall what prompted me to pick up this pair of discs and start collecting Waits, but I am so glad I did. He is amongst my most listened to if you believe LastFM - in the top 10 - and yet... it feels like I never really progressed past listening to this and to Alice.

Another Man's Vine is the first track that is not familiar when it begins, and it has a sleaziness to it, dispensing with some of the grime and decay for a salubrious tone, suggestive horns. Truly, is there anyone other than Waits who can conjure visualisations so strongly through a tune? At that point I am broken out of my thought pattern by realising I needed to adjust the track list, which was missing the horrificly tense Knife Chase for some reason. As if to counter the spiky danger of the chase, Lullaby arrives, just proving that Waits, despite the gravel in his larynx, can soothe as well as he can suggest. That said the song feels like a repeat of No-one Knows I'm Gone.

Starving in the Belly of a Whale is something else. Gruff, insistent and incessant, and that's before we hit the chorus where the repetition of the title is really magnetic. It is not a song that is comfortable to listen to but it is majestic as a tour de force - dragging you along behind it like a rider fallen from his panicked horse trapped in the stirrups and reins. As much as I am surprised that Tom Waits is quite so high up my list of most listened to artists (I suppose his prolific nature and sizable back catalog help him surface in shuffles), it is precisely this kind of grab-you-by-the-scruff type number that typifies his appeal.

The disc ends with a couple of short numbers - interludes really, though they are not referred to as such - squeezed in before the closer. A Good Man is Hard to Find is a lovely tune, and for once here Waits' distinctive vocal may not necessarily be the best to sit alongside the muted melody. It's not bad (after all, if you like Waits at all you would never call his voice bad; if you don't like him you'd be justified to say "the man can't sing!" at this juncture), but not quite as made for the composition somehow. The tone of this final track is upbeat and I think that is where the disconnect comes in. I find myself distracted for what feels like a second, and then jarred by the silence. The track has ended and so has the listen.

Blacklisted - Neko Case

Track list:

1. Things That Scare Me
2. Deep Red Bells
3. Outro With Bees
4. Lady Pilot
5. Tightly
6. Look for Me (I’ll Be Around)
7. Stinging Velvet
8. Pretty Girls
9. I Missed the Point
10. Blacklisted
11. I Wish I Was the Moon
12. Runnin’ Out of Fools
13. Ghost Wiring
14. Outro With Bees (reprise)

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2002

Change of scenery now after a brief delve into hip hop is behind me. This album was my introduction to Neko Case and may (only may) remain my favourite of her works. There are a range of sounds here, songs both slow and fast, and like Cathal Coughlan's Black River Falls this album works wonderfully as a showcase for a stunningly good voice.

The initial bright spangly guitar is just a joy, and the depth and echo when Case starts singing - filling space - immediately sets a tone that resonates strongly with the sense of a time and place other than ours. A twangy banjo adds to the milieu of the old west. Its a short snappy song, and a very strong start, but things get better from here.

Deep Red Bells is the track that when I first heard it I knew I liked Neko Case a lot. There is a resonance to her vocal here, a mellowness to the guitar. This is more dark night enclosed space music for me than bright Saturday morning but it is like a cocoon to wrap yourself in. Growing up I was always highly dismissive of country music, stereotypes abounded and all of them hid the fact that it could be like this... powerful, stirring and full of themes. There is is a richness and a blackness to some of the guitar in this piece that I would associate more with urban-inspired tunes. That edge really gives it something.

Its cheap and dismissive but when you have a voice this good it almost doesn't matter what it is singing or accompanying. Case has, simply put, a stunning set of vocal chords. She has range, can deliver tenderness or softer lines - like on Lady Pilot - but its the resonance when she really launches into things that sticks with you, or the fullness of sound when over a strong but sparse melody. When her voice gets layered on top of itself in Tightly it is a really evocative effect, but in truth I find this track, and Look for Me which follows, to be the weakest point of the album. They slow the pace down and I don't find that Case's voice does quite enough to lift the resulting plod in the same way it does with a couple of tracks later on the disc. There's no doubt that her singing on the tracks is impressive though - the finish to Look for Me being a case in point. I just find the songs a little flat.

Stinging Velvet is the opposite of flat. Punchy from the off, it gets more so after the first verse when a bit more instrumentation joins in. There is a nice rumble to this song, and a nice expansiveness to the chorus that contrasts the echo-chamber effect of the verses. I'm not sure why I feel the chorus is more open, its just an instinctive reaction to it. I would say this is my favourite track from the disc but in truth that changes based on my mood. We move on to a lament, delivered with a full sound and perhaps a bit of an edginess in the voice - disdain or anger? A stridency in any case.

Missed the point is another favourite - this is a love song of sorts. I always think it shorter than it is. Whilst it comes in at under 2 minutes, there is a whole second verse that I always forget exists. I love the sentiment, I love the way it is communicated, its just a wonderful little vignette. The title track brings in a lonely guitar - this feels like a plaintive cry to an uncaring world, a lonesome stand against encroaching night. Then possibly the loneliest track of all... but my favourite vocal performance on the album. Case's delivery is pretty much all there is to this song for the first little bit, a solo stand against a bleak backing. Even when the accompaniment joins in, it is all secondary. There is a roll, a lilt, to the singing and a glorious musicality in her voice, rising and falling with emotional investment out the wazoo. It is the kind of performance that you either love or find overwrought - and I am on the first side of that.

Then we get to Running Out of Fools, another powerful vocal showcase, the melancholic guitars behind it are almost obliterated by the sheer emotion Case imparts on climactic lines, her voice strained and pained but bringing warmth at other points. The song itself suffers in a couple of places - notably the lead out - but it all pales behind the singing. I realise now that I don't recognise Ghost Writing at all, which is laughable really because I have listened to this disc an awful lot, including in the car, but there we go. The song is a nice gentle swell but relative to what has been before it is a bit of a climb down, especially with a minute of silence on the end of it before we get to the outro. This is a reprise of the third track, with a hazy static radio effect opening us up and overlaying the initial chords. It resolves to a nice keyboard line, and Case's voice sounding very distant, like over a bad wireless signal. It could be out of Fallout or Bioshock or any number of such properties that have a 50s aesthetic and a broken world. Its a short album, made shorter by some silence and a reprise, but a very, very good one all the same.

Ben Folds Live - Ben Folds

Track list:

1. One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces
2. Zak And Sara
3. Silver Street
4. Best Imitation of Myself
5. Not The Same
6. Jane
7. One Down
8. Fred Jones Part 2
9. Brick
10. Narcolepsy
11. Army
12. The Last Polka
13. Tiny Dancer
14. Rock This Bitch
15. Philosophy
16. The Luckiest
17. Emaline

Running time: 71 minutes
Released: 2002

Three in a row; this is probably the best of the three, too. Whilst a trio of Ben Folds (Five) albums in a row is a bit like overkill I cannot be blamed for their album nomenclature issues! Thankfully I have had a few days away from the laptop so it is not quite so repetitive from that perspective.

This album contains songs from the first 3 Ben Folds Five albums as well as some from Folds' first solo effort, Rocking the Suburbs and a couple of oddities. After a brief intro spiel from an announcer Folds launches into things full tilt... it sounds less energetic on this listen than I recall from memory though, which is a disappointment that I will get over.

I am back from the holiday within a holiday, but not yet from the holiday itself. 4 days of travelling around the Peloponnese in the back of a car has my spine all shook up and my body still warming: alas we were not fortunate with the weather after the first day: lots of wind, a little rain, and temperatures more akin to Middlesbrough than the Mediterranean. Ah well; it's Good Friday today and a lazy day of whatever.

Zak and Sara is a little bit of a left field choice for live performance - its not one of his stronger songs, and yet... Stripped of anything except his piano the composition and performance are more easily appreciated than they were on the original recording. Folds' all-action playing style lends itself well to essentially covering the percussion as well as the melody and the rolling rumble of his lower hand is such that you really don't miss it. Next up is Silver Street; this an oddity - a quick Google relates it to a British Asian radio soap of the same name (as a final closer on the termination of the series) but not much about where the song came from. I have always rather liked its whimsy, melancholy and sense of inevitable decline.

I wrote a little about Best Imitation of Myself last time out, and may return to it again because it's the title of Ben Folds' retrospective, a triple-disc album looming on the horizon for these pages, so skipping over it here brings us to Not the Same - context-giving intro and backing choir and all. It has never been a particular favourite of mine. The use of the choir is pretty good and I rather like some of the top hand work in the verses but the constant of the bass chords leave me a little cold. I think I still prefer this over the version on Rocking the Suburbs though. The long outro of choir-backing sets a more relaxed mood, which is maintained by the next track. Jane was always one of my favourites from The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner and its subdued tone and pleasant piano keep it a favourite.

I could have sworn that One Down had an intro chatter giving the context to this throwaway number, but I guess I must be conflating my memory of seeing Folds do it live with the recording on this live album. Talk of quotas, target numbers and wanting out of a contractual arrangement spring to mind - themes strongly echoed by the lyrics. Maybe my brain made up the contextual introduction on its own - the material is all there to lead to that conclusion...

This middle section is really rather maudlin in tone - Fred Jones is sad, Brick is beautiful but heartbreaking, One Down is redolent of being trapped. The occasional audience scream or squeal or applause can be heard during Jones pt 2, and it is completely out of tone for the song they are squealing to. I can only guess that it is related to the appearance of the guest musician but it rather breaks the mood. The intro to Brick starts, stops for Ben to explain the really obvious context, then recommences. This is probably my favourite recording of the song. Melody wandering, repeating in loops as a muted vocal and light bass structure fill in. It is thoroughly touching - very easy to identify with the decisions being made and the toll that can take. The lack of bass and drums allows the piano to fill all the space, and lends weight to the pauses between notes, transitions from chorus to bridge to verse to chorus gain gravitas from the room the notes have.

Outside as it concludes I can hear cats wailing in the wind - not a very pleasant accompaniment. That piles on top of the fact I was woken at 3.30am by a house alarm going off somewhere in the neighbourhood. It can be noisy in this area alright. Looking out the window I find that actually the cats are right outside; two of them facing off... and then they are gone, taking their noise elsewhere as Folds is playing Narcolepsy and my mind has wandered too far from it. The other piece of noteworthy news today is that Richie Benaud has passed away, probably the single most important figure in me somehow turning about from hating cricket to watching or listening avidly and I am torn between concentrating fully on this music which I have listened too regularly for more than a decade and reading tributes. Folds is now training his horn section for Army - an audience participation routine that I have been a part of and one that works where many fall flat.

Army is a rollicking tune, keys never quiet as the bustle and bluster push it through until the point the human-powered "horn section" kick in. Simple chords are added back to them and the audience fade out again for the next verse, before shouting back a line in answer. There is a puerile end to the song where Folds swaps "your mommy" for "the army" but its not enough to spoil the effect, and then he launches into The Last Polka, fingers already warmed up for the key-bashing busy number that in some ways most typifies a Folds performance and just for a second makes me think back to that sheet music and how I might like to be able to play with such verve. Then we are into knock-off Elton territory again with the cover of Tiny Dancer; I have seen video somewhere (did this disc have a bonus DVD? I don't remember) of Folds performing in oversized specs to complete the image. The comparisons have, I guess, dogged him for most of his career. I cannot claim to be familiar enough with Elton John's performances or songs to add to commentary of the similarity or otherwise, but I always liked this particular track (i.e. as Folds does it on this disc) and have maybe heard the original once - and that after I heard this. There is something in the playing here, the strength of the emphasized notes that really hits home.

Oddity, aside, waste of time that I cannot bring myself to get rid of, then into the lead out proper with yet another version of Philosophy - this one containing Misirlou in the outro - and probably my definitive version of the song. Piano only, energy coursing through it, and ended by transitioning into something else. There is percussion achieved (at a guess) by slapping the piano case and strumming the piano strings by hand (I think there must also be a second set of hands involved here but maybe I am underestimating our performer) before settling back into melody and leading out loudly.

I said on Ben Folds Five Live that I thought this was a set of tracks recorded in different halls and then mashed together; on listening I am not so sure I wasn't referencing this incorrectly, thinking instead of the live disc of Imitation. There is a consistency between tracks with carryover of applause etc. that gives me pause, not that that couldn't have been achieved through the mastering. I do not have the hard copy to hand (being on holiday) so I cannot check this, and will surely forget to when I get home. I do not fear such mistakes anyway, happy to recognise the possibility and leave it sitting here. This waffle stops me concentrating too much on the lyrics of The Luckiest which, when heard, tend to make me cringe and feel lonelier than ever. The same can be said of Emaline - a song I did not really like too much on Naked Baby Photos but loved on the second disc of Messner (I didn't get the second disc on my copy of that album, but a friend did...). The live performance adds a lot, and the extra time to round off the rough edges from what was pre-BFF material have left what, for me, is a diamond of a song - beautiful melody and sentiment.

And so now I can move on to someone other than Folds for a short while, this album completed and left entirely intact despite Rock This Bitch really deserving to be let go. It won't be long until Ben (and friends) resurface though, with just 5 things to go before Best Imitation of Myself will make it 6 out of 11 posts dedicated to Mr Folds. A lot of variety in the interim though, with jazz, folk, seminal indie rock and big beat to fit in. One of those 4 is an easy guess but the others are less obvious.

Aqualung - Aqualung

Track list:

1. Strange and Beautiful (I'll Put a Spell on You)
2. Falling Out of Love  
3. Good Times Gonna Come
4. If I Fall 
5. Just For a Moment 
6. Tongue-tied  
7. Can't Get You out of my Mind  
8. Everything Changed  
9. Gentle  
10. Nowhere  
11. Halfway to the Bottom 

Running time: 46 minutes
Released 2002

I suspect this album may get short shrift, and mostly get dumped. I was, like thousands of others, charmed by Strange and Beautiful when it appeared on TV ads for a Volkswagen Beetle. I obviously liked it enough to buy not only this album, but also Still Life which followed. My instinct tells me that I have almost certainly drifted away from interest in this in the intervening years, and that both are likely to be gutted down to stand-outs or removed altogether after their listens. I might be wrong though. Lets see... 

The album opens with its iconic track - a classic case of shooting its bolt too soon? - and what a track it is. A bit slow and slightly one-note in delivery, but the simple piano melody is gold dust. I am honestly surprised to still like it this much. The song is quite stalkerish in an uncomfortable way, but the tune is gorgeous and (can I say this after a decade?) timeless.

Hales' voice is not inspiring, which drives a bit of a wedge between me and the music. Falling Out of Love is in a similar vein, sharing a general tone and similar musicality with his smash hit. However the tune is nothing like as charming, and it exposes the indifference of the rest of the composition and performance. The whole thing just gives off too much of a downbeat vibe - a sort of depressing inevitability; I desperately hope that there are some more cheery tracks in here because otherwise I might be past help for the evening after 46 minutes of constant downer. I am frantically looking down the track list trying to recall hints of the music that accompanies these names and, uniformly, failing to do so. I will have to steel myself, and instead look for the magical patches in a quilt made of interminable sameness.

See, I have to believe that the writing team that came up with Strange and Beautiful must be able to recreate a similarly good tune here or there - even for a single bridge - and it is piano driven which gives me a predisposition to like it if the dullness can be pierced. So far though, the star turn stands alone; the 3 tracks since have been like wandering through a building where every surface is painted beige and there is no other sensory stimulus at all - and the... I can only assume heavy breathing at the end of If I Fall is hideous.

It precedes the next best this album has offered so far. Just for a Moment has a nice whimsical turn on the keys; pity it is hidden behind a vocal smear that is pretty unpleasant and lyrically dull, repetitive. When it ends we get a few seconds of a richer sound - still distant, but a hint that Tongue-tied might have a sturdier arrangement, if a quiet one. This song I could see myself liking in another context and with another singer. Strong vocal performances are not Aqualung's forte, but there was enough behind it to suggest that he can compose. I am, on hearing them, finding some familiarity and recognition of the tunes. Or is that because I have heard 7 different takes on the same theme now, some executed much better than others?

That is a touch unfair, there have been a few tracks now where the melodies have stood out, and they were all similar, sure, but different enough to provide a sense of change. What does not it is the vocal - stylistically and tonally dragging itself through each song in the same pitch and dragging everything down as a result. Its like this: a sad piano tune can be appreciated, have a beauty that reflects that sadness but does not pass it on; an empty vocal like this singing a sad song or straining over that tune destroys that appreciation almost wholly. His voice is grating so much by this stage that my gut says I should not keep those tunes where I liked the composition because they are too stained. Actually its worse than that, the disc has not even finished playing and I am not sure I can identify them! Too much similarity.

All snideness aside, I think I might hang on to a few. When not listening to a whole album of it, his voice would not offend so much, and I was genuinely enjoying the meandering of fingers on keys at points in the middle of the disc. Three tunes is plenty: Strange and Beautiful (obviously), Tongue-tied and Just for a Moment will do it, I think. The rest will likely never be heard again.

Anglicana - Eliza Carthy

Track list:

1. Worcester City
2. Just As the Tide was Flowing
3. Limbo
4. Little Gypsy Girl
5. No Man’s Jig / Hanoverian Dance / Three Jolly Sheepskins
6. Pretty Ploughboy
7. Bold Privateer
8. Dr McMBE
9. In London So Fair
10. Willow Tree

Running time: 54 minutes
Released: 2002

Perhaps this will blow away a cobweb or two. I have a love/indifferent relationship with Eliza Carthy's music; when she is good she's very good indeed, but when she is not I struggle to maintain an interest. She is, of course, well rooted, Britain's "First Family of Folk" and all that. This record also features my two favourite folk musicians - John Spiers and Jon Boden - in the backing band, before they made it on their own (and later with Bellowhead).

Worcester City (I keep forgetting Worcester is a city) is a more vibrant tune than I remember. There is something life affirming about the fiddle/melodeon combination that makes it very easy for me to see how it survived into the thriving modern folk scene. The tune is a little more raucous than I would like (too many musicians, I think) but it is enjoyable enough. The vibrancy ebbs away though, in favour of a slow, low song without enough depth of arrangement or lyrical interest to hold full attention in a good example of how Carthy's music can go from captivating to just there in the background. The song itself is sung nicely, played proficiently but just... lacking - and at 8 minutes long, the tide was flowing for far longer than it should have.

Limbo is an enjoyable track, but I think I prefer Ruth Notman's version which has a bit more tempo and accompaniment. Then we dip into more stereotypical folk - a staccato accordion piece with a gypsy theme. It is a little twee for my taste, though it is accomplished in delivery. I am coming to the conclusion that this album, as acclaimed as it was, is not really for me... or is it?

The dance tune set could have come off a Spiers and Boden album and so moves closer to my taste in folk. This is partly because both are playing (the backing musicians on the disc are different from track to track), as they are on Pretty Ploughboy which shares a style with some of their songs. It is these intersections where I find Carthy most pleasant on this disc - trusted hands and all that. It makes me wonder a little about how the arrangements were set up, and whether the similarities are because John and Jon had influence here, or because Eliza was a major influence on them. At the point this was released, Spiers and Boden had released one album as a duo already, but the sound here is more reminiscent of their later material and the credits point to Carthy so I guess the latter is more true.

I like her voice, and admire her drive, diversity and talent, but sometimes I find Eliza Carthy very flat indeed. Bold Privateer is just... not quite there in the same way that her version of Limbo was too dead to be a favourite; the exaggerated length (7 minutes) just emphasises the lack of arrangement, and whilst the fiddle/guitar combo works there is just not quite enough life to the tune. Dr McMBE is her one original tune on this disc, played with her father Martin on guitar. Again the composition of the track is missing something. It tends to lament, and there is a lack of energy as a result. Personally I find folk music much stronger when it plays up the celebratory roots of tradition or has a touch more life. There is a place for sadder material, for sure, but on this listen, I think Anglicana overdoes it. In London So Fair continues that theme, but is far more interesting for me because it is a live delivery and the backing is a simple but melodic piano piece. Still too long though.

The album closes with Willow Tree, which is actually the tune I most associate with this album; its the one that I can hear in my head when I see the cover image. The rest of the material here never created a strong association with the album when heard on shuffle, but this tune did. Amusingly the tune itself is different enough from my recollection of it to make me smile wryly. It's a more upbeat tune though and a welcome change of tone to end on.

Overall? I am not a huge fan of this album. All of it is decent, but it struggles for pacing and too many laments make it hard to listen through in full. The three longer tracks pump up the running time and all in all I think it is better enjoyed piecemeal where Carthy's talents can shine then be replaced by something that picks up the mood or otherwise counterbalances. I am not cutting any tracks here - I can see enough in each individual track for the right circumstance to make it welcome - but I can also say with some certainty that I will never sit down to listen to Anglicana right through again.