Collaborative Works, Disc 2 - Ólafur Arnalds and Nils Frahm

Track list:

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

Running time: 40 minutes
Released: 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Collaborative Works, Disc 1 - Ólafur Arnalds and Nils Frahm

Track list:

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

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cold Moon - Alela Diane and Ryan Francesconi

Track list:

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

Running time: 37 minutes
Released: 2015

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cold Shoulder - Bdy_Prts

Singleton time. This is not so much an album as a tack released on its own. Bdy_Prts are two  female performers from other Scottish acts come together to do something... and with an album due later in the year. One of those is Jenny Reeve (Strike the Colours) - which is what brought them to my attention when I thought to look into what she may have done more recently.  It turns out I also have music from the other Prt(ner), who was in Sparrow and the Workshop.

That said, I don't think I actually listened to this, or the other track I grabbed (I.D.L.U. - which is categorised as another singleton for some years in the future) after downloading them from whichever outlet I got them from. I honestly don't remember if they were free samples or if I bought them. And that was earlier this year... I suck!

Rather than post a bogus cover image and stuff, I'll link to a YouTube of a live performance:

So what do I make of the song?

Bold single strikes to start, that's good. Reeve's voice, always welcome; her American companion brings a different tone, the composition gives both voices space, doesn't over-complicate things.  I am less fond of the chorus. The track is perhaps not what I was expecting, yet it is enjoyable all the same, without being stellar. I would say it heralds promise and an interesting change of direction for the performers

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.

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.

Build a Boat to the Sun - Sea of Bees

Track list:

1. Test Yourself
2. Karma Kard
3. Old Bridge
4. Ease
5. Don't Follow Me
6. Little Sea
7. Dan
8. Moline
9. Dad
10. Monk

Running time: 43 minutes
Released: 2015

Random pickup time. This came out last year sometime and I think Sea of Bees just happened to be rated "similar" to enough people I was interested in for me to pick it up. Can't remember a darn thing about it before I start though so it is a mini voyage of discovery.

Before I begin, I rather like the list of snappy track titles, but I can't help recalling Alan Partridge when I see the word "Dan" in isolation. That irrelevance aside, on to it. We are straight into vocals, no intro. A fast start, punchy rhythm, catchy. The voice is a little stretched thin for comfort - tight, a little shrieking - but full of life. Test Yourself is not the most interesting song you'll ever hear but the composition does have a jangling sort of appeal. Yesterday was a busy day with no chance to get to this; 13 people to cater for. This morning a swim was the most I had to deal with and so fitting in a listen on my penultimate full day away feels right. The song has moved on in time, but not in form - the catchiness that it exhibited up front has worn a little thin. 5 minutes was too long.

There's a more pleasing fuzz to the sound of the guitars on Karma Kard, a dirt and grit to the basis of the track that suits it. The vocal is fuller, too - achieved as much through the echo effect as from a change in how the song is sung, but welcome all the same. The song itself is so-so. It keeps the benefits of the less clean notes and vocal, but the composition is deathly dull. I find number like this particularly disappointing - where elements I like are driven to irrelevance by some unrelated factor that steals all the joy of that initial contact, sucking it out and blasting it into space. For all that, the song gives me hope that there will be something better to come.

Old Bridge seems to be that something better, right away. This song is very conventional, but has a perfect synergy between the high pitched vocal and the simple but effective guitar and drums forming the skeleton of the track. And it then has a variation that sets the voice off better. OK, so the music under that variation is basically a single note repeated too often but that provides enough of a contrast with the basic form that it still works. Definite improvement, do like. Not every song or artist needs to do something different to be interesting; implementing the tried and tested well can work too. I am trying to place who the vocalist reminds me of. I definitely have other female artists with this sort of tight-throated sound, but I cannot place a name right now. Frustrating. The vocal style changes as I finish that sentence - a quieter acoustic track with a less flat and tense sound, at least for the first couple of lines. There is a harmony effect in what I guess is the chorus, and here those tensions appear again. I wonder if the tightness is actually just a concoction of the overlaid voice (or voices). I am unclear from listening whether there is actual harmony going on, or an artifact of recording and overlaying from a single vocalist. I suspect the latter, and suspect that the truth lies somewhere in the middle - a naturally taut voice that is exaggerated by the effect.

Still, the quality of the output has picked up; not enough to have me looking to pick up more Sea of Bees material - it is a little too conventional to stand out that much - but certainly enough to enjoy that which I have. On to Dan, then, and with the obvious joke already made I only have the sounds to comment on. There is a keyboard part here that I find helps lift the otherwise fairly monotonous base. A dash of electronics in the high registers, and a wandering of the voice then spice the track up more. I find myself on the fence with it though - the vocal veers too far down the quirky for me and the basic pattern is mundane. Bits to like, bits not to like.

I think in another mood on another day, or listening in another context, I might like this rather better. I find that it is maybe just a little too standard for listening above anything else, but it would be much easier on the ears if my brain was free to do other tasks. I really like Moline though; best yet. It in some ways is the most mainstream and standard form track I have heard thus far, yet it is also executed really well, with a real care matching the vocal to the music. I guess sometimes everyone else got it right first? By contrast I hate the intro to Dad, where the voice is a hard-to-bear wail. Once the track proper gets moving it becomes much more appealing - the voice settles down and the pattern of the track sets an easily appreciated rhythm and flow. The pacing on the main riff works for me more than anything else. Simple and catchy, punchy between lines.

Final track Monk slows us down, sobers us up, sombres us out. OK, sombre is not a verb but so what. I prefer her voice when it goes contemplative like this, and I find that here that is backed up with a richer sound, whilst the drums are slightly tinny the horns are soft and expansive. It closes as my mind wanders, writing far less than I should have on a closer that leaves me feeling much more charitable about the whole record. I still can't see myself going in for more See of Bees material, but I have gone from lukewarm to positive about this one.

Broadchurch O.S.T - Ólafur Arnalds

Track list:

1. Main Theme
2. Danny
3. The Journey
4. So Close
5. Suspects
6. What Did They Ask You?
7. She's Your Mother
8. Excavating The Past
9. The Meeting
10. Broken
11. I'm Not The Guilty One
12. So Far
13. Beth's Theme

Running time: 52 minutes
Released: 2015

From a videogame soundtrack to a TV show one. This was meant to be next cab on the rank a long while back, but a raft of purchases that all fell before it alphabetically, and a low output rate of late, have delayed it several weeks.

I hear Broadchurch - season 1 anyway - was good TV. I wouldn't know as I didn't catch any of it and have never felt like going back to do so. However when I saw that the soundtrack music had been composed by Ólafur Arnalds I picked it up despite my unfamiliarity with the series. I like Arnalds' style. I expect this to be a little bitty without knowledge of the visuals it was to accompany but hope that it will be stirringly good stuff all the same.

The Main Theme starts darkly, distantly. A low rumbling sound may be approximating waves. Then a spooky, isolated but simple melody arrives and takes centre stage. I think the addition of the strings, giving depth to the bleakness, raises the theme another level as the percussion picks up a pace. This is the kind of atmospheric that I wanted to feel from The Banner Saga soundtrack last time out... a different atmosphere, of course - English mystery vs. Nordic fantasy - but a complete theme. I suppose as such it speaks to the fundamentally different nature of soundtracking the two media. TV (and film) tend to get longer themes that may not be used in their entirety but are composed as such. Videogames get made-to-measure pieces that fit exactly to a specific use, and likely made to loop in case the player takes too long.

I guess that Danny was the kid that died/went missing/provoked the central mystery of the show. I could guess that from the name alone, but the tune that bears the name also suggests this quite strongly. There is an inorganic edge to the sound here that typifies Arnalds' playing with less traditional elements, but the composition is very classic soundtrack in tone. I am left suspecting that the show was about loneliness, key people being driven apart by events and their responses to them, because there is something in the music here that breeds a sense of isolation, of being cut off. When the more modern, almost Vangelis-style futuristic, sounds appear in The Journey I think it was better before they did, but at the same time they are not entirely out of place. The composer is walking a fine line there, his inclination to modernise competing a little against the sense of place the tune was composed to evoke. This is a long theme though, and the latter stages of it have a tension and conflict to them. It reminds me a little in places of several different composers or musicians in passing, in snippets too short for me to identify and name them all.

I have often said I don't like crime fiction... police TV shows. It's one of the reasons I steered clear of Broadchurch when it aired (well, that and ITV). But that is a lie; I have lapped up Line of Duty (a soundtrack I want to get, if only for the main theme) on the BBC over three series and 4 years, for example. I think what I dislike is "villain of the week" shows, one and done crimes (always murder, because drama). Serialise it, give room for the characters to shine and suffer and suddenly it becomes a backdrop like any other subject. I think I probably should go back and watch this one, because I suspect it does what I would want it to.

So close is a song, with vocals. Was not expecting that. I find I don't think much of it, either... it rather flows past me without making an impression. Suspects is a dark, tense affair to follow it, but one that opens out into a nice melody and pacing structure (albeit of a form so generic to TV scores that it hurts). There is definitely something very common about the form this composition takes, right down to the sudden end to the piece. It works, because it is incredibly evocative. It also doesn't work absent the visual media because it's a trope that is so over-used. I know, I should name other instances to back that up, and no, I can't off the top of my head. All I can say is that I am sure I have heard the same conceits used a hundred times on TV and film, and that I think that as a composition Suspects suffers without recourse to the visuals.

A couple of terse, tense numbers pass by, erasing the memory of the overused trope by drowning me in the murky uncertainties. I don't know if this is biased by enjoying this disc more, but here the shorter pieces feel more rounded and complete, more tonally consistent and more like a tune in their own right than even the longer numbers on The Banner Saga soundtrack managed to. I really don't like disparaging that soundtrack so much, because I don't think that in context it was bad at all, so let me say instead that Arnalds clearly knows how to craft accompaniments that can stand alone. I think perhaps with TV we are all so familiar with the tropes and mores that it is easier to play upon them and for us to identify and relate to them without the specific context that the composer is working to, but certainly this is much more accessible. So much so that I feel like I have heard much of it before simply because it trades on those familiarities. I can't really blame the composer for drifting into sounds that could come from a hundred different shows. Really so much of our TV explores the same themes, so why wouldn't the music for the show follow suit? The soundtrack's job is to support and enhance the visuals and there is probably a reason the sort of dark-light shifts, driving strings, and wide lens feel have become staples in the first place.

I feel like I am tarring this undeservedly, so let me say that I am enjoying this quite a lot. It is making me think of things beyond the scope of the single album though, and I find it much easier to connect these sounds to soundtracks aplenty by other musicians than I do to reference Arnalds' other work. Just because something is familiar - or popular, come to that - does not mean it lacks artistic merit. Rather than seeing a slight on the present, see a nod to the masses.

I really like the strings on Broken. There's a lovely light touch to this piece which, whilst carrying a sad tune and quite clearly not accompanying an upbeat moment, gives a sense of relief... exactly the sort of thing I was crying out for in yesterday's listen. You would expect a tune with the title "I'm Not the Guilty One" to be difficult listening, and it is. I don't find it as overtly accusatory as the title itself, but it is not a pleasant tune, edginess abundant. One element that is used a lot in soundtracking it seems is the repeated note as pacing mechanism. A single sound hit over and over to give structure and tempo, the strength of the sound dictating  the urgency of the piece. So Far uses this, and it makes me think again of Vangelis though I can't bring a particular piece or even album to reference.

On to the last. Beth's Theme starts as a lonely, light piano. It feels like a classic resolution, a sober end. Gods, when he does this I love Ólafur Arnalds... so much emotion in such a simple package. I can feel myself getting goosebumps on what has been the warmest day of the year to date - simply amazing. I can only imagine how powerful this could be with a conclusive scene to sit alongside. It ends rather meekly, but such tender tunes rarely blow out hot. I find myself thinking I really should see what the fuss was about on some form where I can avoid any ads.

Break Stuff - Vijay Iyer Trio

Track list:

1. Starlings
2. Chorale
3. Diptych
4. Hood
5. Work
6. Taking Flight
7. Blood Count
8. Break Stuff
9. Mystery Woman
10. Geese
11. Countdown
12. Wrens

Running time: 70 minutes
Released: 2015

So much for momentum. A busy and varied week back at work, a bunch of evening engagements and a full day of boardgaming on Saturday mean that another week has passed with no post. This purchase was directly related to a positive opinion of Accelerando back in 2014. Like many new buys, I am not sure if I ever gave it a listen before now... possibly thinking "it's a B, it'll surface soon" at the time. Over a year later (there are a lot of Bs it turns out), its time to finally give it a go.

It has been a mild winter until the last couple of weeks, and I find myself shivering along to the trembling high notes that open Starlings. It's a strange piece that never really seems to get going, and yet disappears in no time... so I have to check and I find that somehow I started it playing in the lead out. What the hell? Starting again (how I didn't want to have to do that on a disc that runs over an hour already), there is a much more rounded track here. Heavy percussion (all relative) and a sparse, much lighter piano, though the tones are not as flighty as the volume setting, a little disturbing in places... unsettling. It wouldn't feel out of place soundtracking some dark night scene. The piano fades into the shivering notes that I first heard as the piece closes and this time I let it run on into Chorale, which has a much more stately air.

Slow, piano alone to begin with before the bass and drums are added as soft undertones. The character of the track changes a minute or more in, the volume rising the support growing in strength and the playing more statement like. An almost funereal tone jettisoned for a more recognisably jazzy approach. It is still a little tempestuous though, not easy listening and not a relax back into things tune, notes roiling around with beats and crashes. I am not sure why but I am picturing someone struggling to stay afloat on a troubled sea, cast overboard. Like with Starlings, the ending has a different character - it almost immediately quietens, stills, then stops. Neither of these pieces have really conformed to my hopes for piano-led jazz, which I really want to have soothe and relax me, even when it has a stronger or more energetic presentation.

It might be the cold (it's not that cold really!) but I find myself struggling to type today. Fingers going over all the wrong keys, mind ahead of hands, gobbledygook arising from my digits and a lot of backspace delete. Diptych is also somewhat edgy. There is no pattern here to sink into and it feels broken, pieces put together every which way. It works, in a sense, but it feels like graft to get through it. Hood is staccato to a fault, disjointed, disembodied sounds somehow wound together in a way that  nevertheless manages to offer something more. It has an intensity about it, mostly created by hammering the same notes a lot. The effect is like a mash-up, snippets of other tunes looped several times each and cut in and amongst each other. There are points where those loops are left to go too long and too many cycles, but generally they make a good fist of moving the pattern along before each segment gets unbearably repetitive.

This is, I feel an album that - if played to a non-jazz enthusiast - would confirm several stereotypes about the genre. Its a little all over the place, unstructured and giving the impression that there was no goal, or that the group didn't know what they were trying to achieve when they set out on any given track. I suppose that if you take the album title as ethos it makes a bit more sense; break the rules, break with tradition, break the mould... yet all whilst conforming to the outside viewpoint. There are elements of... reggae or dub rhythms in places, which gave my ear a prod, there is a lot going on. There is a swirl of sounds, short and quick transitions, no one theme getting a long play treatment. Its all a little much; I must still be tuckered out from yesterday's mental exertions. There are elements here I like, and I think this album enriches others by its presence. For each prematurely killed theme, I value Esbjörn Svensson's best works more. Break Stuff provides a contrast, and that is valuable in itself, not that there aren't other merits here.

Blood Count is a softer, piano-centric tune, an oasis of calm amidst the calamitous crashings and ever-shifting sands of the other pieces. It feels a little out of place, lonely and lost. I very much like it for itself and for providing contrast within the context of the work, so I don't have to look outside the disc for reference. The title track picks up this baton, too. Whilst it returns to a busier sound, it provides a tune with a sense of continuity that I found missing in the earlier tracks, then breaks itself as if to make a point. Its effective, though when it gets stuck in a rut of repeating short phrases soon thereafter the magic of the effect is quick to wear off. I find myself rather confused, not sure whether I really like this or cannot stand it for itself. I then find myself wondering whether that has something with the ossification of taste with age. I have definitely been buying less new music in the past year or two, and keeping up with new releases has gone out the window entirely. In my mind's eye I still crave novelty, but how true is that really?

Some of the brasher sounds here are novel, and some of the combinations - the playing really is exceptional in its meshing of the three instruments - are delightful. I still seem to be wavering on whether much of it is enjoyable though. Constantly wondering about how this doesn't seem to stack up to favourites rather than appreciating what it is. There is always a line somewhere; is Break Stuff crossing one? 

The opening sounds of Geese could, if you squint, be taken as the honking those animals make. This beginning is trying - sparse to the point that I am confused as to whether some of the softer sounds I hear are on the record or background noise coming in from outside. Certainly that emergency siren is the road, but other more subtle squeaks and susurrations? By the half-way mark the tune has picked up and is offering more. I was about to say some consistent theme again, but it abruptly broke and changed on me, turning into a plodding yet irregular, disconnected stroll. That pattern is interesting, though I don't like how they implemented the switch, and it develops into a more easily followed strand again.

One thing I will say for certain... this is not Sunday lunchtime music. This time of the week should be about many things, but not hard work, and simply keeping up with Iyer's piano at times is exhausting. He can certainly rattle those keys apace when he wants to, and the breakneck speed at which ideas are picked up, explored and discarded over the course of this album means you are racing to keep up. That's why I liked Blood Count so much - it was an opportunity to switch off a bit whilst still paying attention. Many of the other tracks are dense with either sheer note count or a multitude of different sub-clauses which are picked up and then dumped in short order. As we head into the final piece and the final few minutes, the one sentence summation is "all over the shop." Yet for all that I am disinclined to start cutting pieces out, as if doing so would somehow diminish what was left. Part of that may be the problems that I would have in identifying which tunes to drop, but much is that sense of worth, of difference, and the perspective they offer on music beyond the limits of this disc. Whilst I am waffling on, Wrens is actually proving a much more accessible closer, a more tuneful use of the piano, and the bass and drums supporting in a more traditional manner. I wonder if there is any significance to the fact that first and last tracks are both named for birds, which is probably a suitably random question on which to close.

Bottle - Eliza Carthy & Tim Eriksen

Track list:

1. Buffalo
2. Logan's Lament
3. Castle by the Sea
4. Cats and Dogs (You Seamen Bold)
5. May Song
6. Prodigal Son
7. Sweet Susan
8. Bottle
9. 10,000 Miles
10. Whitby Lad (Botany Bay)
11. Sailors Wedding/The Swiss Boy
12. Traveler
13. Love Farewell

Running time: 53 minutes
Released: 2015

More folk. A trans-Atlantic collaboration now. This only came out last year, but it seems longer ago. I recall not liking it much on first listen and not paying it any heed since. When Carthy is good, though, she is very good so I keep giving her slack and picking up releases. Eriksen I did not know, and have not felt compelled to investigate further. So - poor first impression, what does the second chance bring?

The combination of fiddle and a really fuzzy-sounding electric guitar opens us up. I find it discordant, the fuzz, growl and resultant lack of clarity on the guitar part creates an aggravation that I can't get past. The actual fiddling and the cadence of the tune are nice, and the duet works well, but that guitar buzz just blares out over the top of everything. Such a shame. Thankfully the start of Logan's Lament has a cleaner sound, though not crystal; Eriksen clearly likes a little distortion, a bit of grunt and growl, on his strings. Carthy is singing solo here, at least for much of it, but it feels a little like she is competing with the guitar rather than being supported by it. There is something basic and appealing about the guitar part when it crescendos though and the roll of the song is an interesting and engaging one.

The fact that a single guitar, the odd tapping as percussion and one and a half voices (Eriksen's voice is added in places) can hold the interest for the whole long run is a positive thing, and actually although the third track is more traditionally arranged (i.e. losing the electrics for a nice lyrical acoustic) the track is not as arresting. It is a short variation on The Outlandish Knight (a Bellowhead/Spiers & Boden favourite of mine), and frankly not anywhere near as engaging as the other versions I have. It is, however, a good example of how the tracks of this album are infused with American roots - the structure of the playing is noticeably different from the more British traditional playing, and it is in the meeting of these two styles that I guess this album was conceived.

What is the difference? It's really hard to articulate, and now the music has moved on I struggle to find a description that will work; the next song doesn't contain such passages as to shine a light on the differences. It is, again, quite stripped back and here I don't find the two voices meshing well. As with Logan's Lament, my impression is that the guitar part is not really well placed to support Eliza Carthy's vocals. The two threads seem to cut across each other too often. Happily, therefore, May Song is a cappella and (apparently) live. This last bit is given away by the applause as it closes. Carthy has a very distinctive voice and, as a fan, I would much rather it was given room to fill the recording as much as possible.

There is a sharpness to the fiddling in the American style I think, a particular edge and a particular rhythm to the tune and vocal pitch, but the distorted guitar baseline is back on Prodigal Son and disturbing my thoughts once more. This duo are better when that particular trick is kept in the locker. The other stark difference, I guess, is that the folk from across the pond tend to fill in space more, more notes, not that the Brits are always sparse with them, but there is often a smoother feel when fewer notes are bowed, and that appears to be embraced more in the British tradition. I'm typing out of my arse again, aren't I?

In truth I am finding this mostly disappointing - some of the tunes are too long, others too short. What they largely seem to share is a harshness to the tones - be it the buzz on that guitar or long drawn out fiddle notes. Its not a characteristic that endears the tunes to me. I do rather like the very sparse nature of the title track though - some tapping percussion and a tune mostly carried in the vocal, what sounds like tight strings clipping notes in support of a catchy progression. Best so far. 10,000 Miles I was expecting to be another Bellowhead crossover but the styling of the song is completely different and it is a separate tune entirely. The style of the guitar here reminds me of Martin Simpson, though I only have one of Simpson's albums, and that was one with a deliberate nod to the American traditions so perhaps that is not much of a surprise. I find this track too slow to be interesting, the vocal subdued along with the low pace.

A jauntiness is back with the fiddle on Whitby Lad, and a tinny guitar or banjo beneath it, muted and straining to produce notes at points, combines to give us a backbone to the song. The vocal here is much improved and the familiar roll of the stresses and relaxed notes is weclome. There are nice moments where the fiddle seems to be aping a melodeon or similar, short sharp breathy notes - its a real gem of a sound. There is a traditional feel to the opening of the next couplet too, the lyrics flow fast and the fiddle keeps them company. Part dance tune, part song it feels - the instruments could be let loose to encourage movement in the audience, but they hum fast enough simply supporting those words. As half expected though the second half loses the lyrics and lets the tune flow.

Winding down now, with the return of the growling guitar. Here it seems more fitting, combining better with the fiddle, but again I find the music at odds with the vocal. I really like the punchy rhythm, employing that dirty sound in a way that lets it shine rather than annoy. Suddenly I reach the final farewell, an unaccompanied duet that I find a little distant, slow and forgettable. Its three minutes feel more like five and close the disc on an unfortunate down note as it breaks a run of more enjoyable tunes. I think I end up keeping about half of this and lamenting what could have been - there were some clear moments of brilliance but overall the combination has missed as much as it hit.

Blues and Bullets - Damian Sanchez

Track list:

1. Blues and Bullets feat. Izä
2. Lost Children
3. Main Theme
4. The Diner
5. Investigation
6. Garrison , O'Reilly, Di Pietro, Dockers
7. Capone's Mansion
8. Entrance Cleared
9. Capone
10. O.B.
11. Reconstruction
12. The Guest
13. Delphine
14. Nikolai Ivankov
15. Blues and Bullets intimate

Running time: 31 minutes
Released: 2015

Long time no post, and I return with a videogame soundtrack. I picked up Blues and Bullets in a Steam sale; needless to say I have yet to play it, but it's an episodic, noir themed adventure game so I'm pretty much the target audience. Wonder how well the soundtrack supports that mood.

Slow thematic keys, an attempt at a femme fatale vocal... yeah. There is a bit too much light and depth in this though, it's not raunchy enough and its sensibilities are too modern, with layers of stings and orchestral percussion. It's more movie-song than shot at a period piece, which is a little bit of a disappointment. It makes me think Bond theme, not noir. The song itself is alright I guess, but it seems misplaced for theme.

It was a proper theme song for the series, though, and now we're into the incidental music, which I presume is the background to actual scenes. I really should dive into the game to find out, but I've been sidetracked by other things (and Darkest Dungeon, which leaped ahead in the "I must play this now" queue). Finding the time, and right mental space to make these posts has been tough of late - busy weekends, plans during the weeks, and a raft of things I had intended to do but never found the time for. A week off is just what I need, and what I will be having, so I hope to get back into the swing of things.

The Main Theme is much more noir-appropriate, hinting at secrets, lies and darkness. Most of these pieces are over before they really establish themselves though, but now I've hit Investigation it seems to last long enough to get a real sense for it... and I think it's pretty good. Perhaps it is still erring on the side of too modern, but the timbre is right this time, and a low sax is a good call, whilst the pacing of the tune is totally in keeping with the genre. Man, I feel like I should be necking a straight bourbon now (ugh, give me a proper Scots or Irish Whisk(e)y any day).

I am not sure the shorter pieces really work or belong on a released soundtrack - however much effort and skill goes into composing vignettes for short cutscenes or similar, the pieces lose their punch when devoid of context, but thankfully there are a couple of longer tracks here too. Capone's Mansion has me thinking James Bond again, though. Rattling drums give it a strong pace and the soaring strings combined with them lend a very Craig-era 007 dark action tone. I can see that particular piece of story being quite... fraught, but action in adventure games? Hmm... perhaps it gets caught between two stools. Another vignette suggests a victorious debrief, then Capone... singularly fails to bring a mob boss to mind. It's a reasonable piano melody, but incredibly tinny of sound.

This coming week, carried over from last year, is a much needed de-stresser in purpose. Too many busy weekends to now have worn me down. A slow week - whilst getting stuff accomplished - is a much needed recovery period. I find myself drifting and my eyes wanting to close during O.B., the soft melody nicely evoking a late night. It's only 21.30 but it feels later. Reconstruction is generic tension, and my plans to tag it as such on LastFM were foiled by UI changes that seem to have removed the ability to easily find and apply tags one has used previously. I'm sure I coined a "generic movie tension" tag after a prior listen, but can't seem to find it to confirm. Ah, sod you LastFM. Not the same since it became a glorified front end for Spotify.

Overall I think Sanchez has done a reasonable job. Nothing groundbreaking, nothing egregiously out of place, and very movie score appropriate, which you might expect. I can totally see the penultimate track as fitting for The Untouchables, for instance... a good touch point since this game I've not played centres on an older, out of retirement Elliot Ness. We end with a reprise of the first song, a more intimate rendition - a better rendition. Still too modern in sound somehow - something to do with how the vocal was recorded perhaps? - but stripped back to keys and voice it has a connection to the source ideas that the more lushly orchestrated version did not. A perfectly serviceable and quick-to-play soundtrack then.

The Boombox Ballads - Sweet Baboo

Track list:

1. Sometimes
2. Got To Hang On To You
3. You Are Gentle
4. Two Lucky Magpies
5. The Boombox Ballad
6. You Got Me Time Keeping
7. Walking In The Rain
8. I Just Want To Be Good
9. Tonight You Are A Tiger
10. Over & Out

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2015

Complete change of tone from the last album now. I can't remember what made me pick up music by Sweet Baboo in the first place, but something made me buy Ships, which I absolutely loved. Thus I snapped this up when it came out this year then... I hardly engaged with it. Time to give it a second chance.

It begins with a guitar hook and our performer's rather distinctive voice. A slightly strained, off-kilter tone combines with generally nerdy or off-the-wall lyrics to make Sweet Baboo a one-of-a-kind. Here the song also contains a rather more orchestrated section, horns and strings giving a bigger, more produced sound. I am not sure that really works. I rather like the basic form here, but the more extravagant sections cave it in and replace it with something less immediately lovable.

The geekiness returns for track 2, and I wonder if I ever listened to this at all. I thought I had, but this rings no bells at all. Still, a self-aware song about playing music to a lover is precisely the sort of thing I expect to hear. This track harks back to decades past in a pleasant way, with a nice pop-y sound and good clean fun, and that call to the past persists into You Are Gentle, where only the odd harmony in the keys hints at the experimental side of Sweet Baboo, if you ignore the lyrics that is. I find this style enjoyable. When he nails it, Sweet Baboo produces an effortless cool and there are elements of that here. It goes a little bizarre as the track draws down, the tones going a little too electronic to maintain the mirage of an older tune. It rather spoils the tune.

The next offering is again using a piano and strings... this feels a lot more mature than Ships. Less fun, perhaps, and less immediately lovable, but a true development and delivery of something new. It is so completely different, perhaps that is why I didn't get on with it on first exposure. Not what I thought it was when I bought it, especially given the title which evokes thoughts of lo-fi home recordings rather than more arranged pieces. Now, approaching it open minded and without expectation, I am charmed.

The title track is a bit more off the wall, a quirky little instrumental, and is merely a speedbump before a more upbeat track. You Got Me Time Keeping is peppy duet. The female singer joining in here is also suitably geeky of voice and the two bounce off each other well in the first minute and a half of the track before it all grows up a bit. This song is 7 minutes long, a significant departure from the short, direct length of the rest. This appears to give it more than enough time to jump the shark. It begins a high tempo number, turns into a slow ballad, then introduces a weirdness and a darkness that I find bleeds off any of the interest that the former change up maintained. Discordant strings overbear the fragile voices with a drone that I find incredibly unpleasant. Then, just after 5 minutes, the nice quick duet it started as cuts back in, geeky lyrics to the fore. Frustrating. I wish I could simply chop out the four minutes in the middle and re-engineer the track into something core coherent and enjoyable; it would only stretch to two (maybe add a half) minutes though.

Walking in the rain? No thanks. The song is nice in the faint praise kind of way - pleasant but unengaging. It smacks of TV advert music or period drama montage music to me. This lacks either immediate charm or considered appreciation. It feels a little as though this record is caught between a natural output and a conscious attempt at something more adult - which is a shame, because frankly unashamed geekdom is in relatively short supply and I could have done with more of it. And because when the matured sound is put forward and committed to, that works. It is just that some tracks seem to get caught between the two and I don't think they are tastes that go well together. It can work if music is one and lyric is the other, or when elements of each are used in concert, but wavering between the two styles rather than committing to an approach was what killed the centrepiece of the album for me.

I have to say I rather like the last couple of tracks. Over & Out has a slow pace that I think Sweet Baboo uses better than most, finding natural rhythms with a cadence of coolness, lounge without the cheese (or with a very specific type of cheese at least). All in all this feels like a mixed bag. Less pop than Ships, but I reckon a couple of the tunes here could grow on me given a chance.

At Least For Now - Benjamin Clementine

Track list:

1. Winston Churchill's Boy
2. Then I Heard A Bachelor's Cry
3. London
4. Adios
5. St-Clementine-On-Tea-And-Croissants
6. Nemesis
7. The People And I
8. Condolence
9. Cornerstone
10. Quiver A Little
11. Gone

Running time: 50 minutes
Released: 2015

So as is traditional for me at this time of year, I have perused the list of Mercury nominated artists and picked up the ones that interest me. Including, this year, the winner. I am already certain that I won't want all of this from the samples I have heard, and if I had the patience to listen via streaming services before committing then, well... I wouldn't be here doing this now, would I?

I was interested not because it won, but because I saw it described with an emphasis on the piano melodies. On the evidence of the opening track (some horribly mangled English in the opening lyrics that reference Churchill's famous speech about the Battle of Britain aside) there could well be something to back up that initial interest. However this listen is going to be a challenge - I am battling not just the habitual tiredness that I can never escape (even after 12 hours in bed!) , but also a hangnail or something that means that it hurts whenever I use the little finger of my left hand. As that happens a fair bit when typing (a!) this could be a painful stretch.

First impressions are mixed. The language mess-up on the one hand balanced by a nice melody on the other. By the time the second track is well underway I am pretty sure I don't much like Clementine's voice, though I see some traces of Nina Simone in his vocal approach and appreciate the way his words are shaped, the actual sounds produced leave me a little cold. The structure of the tunes though... that is very likable, particularly the more upbeat opening to London. This song finds me less alienated by his singing voice too. Now the disc won the Mercury prize, I half expect this tune to crop up everywhere as backing music to adds, TV trails etc. It has that kind of universal appeal - the same sort of draw as To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra, which also ended up everywhere after Ma Fleur was released.

Adios is a clear step down for my money - the move to a staccato style of playing makes for a far less engaging melody and it is really only the melodies that I am interested in here. This track redeems itself with a second half a world away from the first, and crams 3 movements into 4 minutes, an interesting contrast to the sameness of some things I have listened to recently. I haven't heard much more random than the 1 minute long insert with hyphens that is St-Clementine-On-Tea-And-Croissants; it just seems completely out of place and adds nothing. There is no tune, just a strained voice and a lyric that leaves much to be desired.

Thankfully it does seem to be a random insert because the next track is back to a pleasant melody. Like most so far it is piano-led with strong backing from strings and percussion, and here Clementine manages to make his voice fit well to the point that it no longer grates on me. Rather than the piano, this track is made by the string arrangement, the keyboard providing bass structure as much as anything else. The tracks seem longer than they are - not because they are dragging (as has been the case on some prior listens) but because they achieve the change ups and movements. My head has gone. It happened about the same time yesterday evening too - I just simply crashed and started feeling ready for bed very early in the evening. Yesterday I had an excuse of being busy with people all day, today I've done very little but recover and yet it still hits me. I am afraid that makes this listen largely void - I can barely concentrate all of a sudden.

The opening of Condolence is pretty special, high tempo but low key. The roll of the track continues after the vocal starts but it loses some of its hypnotic magic. Still a fine track though, my favourite so far. I find myself with little to say - tiredness, no doubt. I am very much on the fence about some of what I am hearing. Not all of the tracks have managed the different movements or got the balance between melody and structure, or allied well with what is not the most natural singing voice I have ever heard. I think I am going to have to listen again sometime soon, in a different mood, at a different time of day (of year? Winter gets to me so...) before rushing to judgement. However there is no way this would have been my British album of the year, though I have not bought that much this year it seems, my favourite release from 2015 has been Bashed Out; I called it as a potential album of the year when I picked it up months ago, and for me This is the Kit has not been topped. I find myself surprised that At Least for Now actually won the Mercury Prize, but also happy that something like this could win.

I feel that if his voice were a touch more musical then this could have been a lot more approachable. Getting past the rough edges and distinctive accent is causing me some issues, keeping me at a distance. I am happy to report that I didn't get turned off by anything in a big way, which I expected to from the track previews I had heard, except for the crazy out-of-place interlude. Wow, that is a lot of waffle for nothing really. More digression than discussion. Long story short I need to give Benjamin Clementine another chance.

Beings - Lanterns on the Lake

Track list:

1. Of Dust & Matter
2. I'll Stall Them
3. Faultlines
4. The Crawl
5. Send Me Home
6. Through The Cellar Door
7. Beings
8. Stepping Down
9. Stuck For An Outline
10. Inkblot

Running time: 41 minutes
Released: 2015

New music time... released only this week even. Beings would have already been covered by the alphabetical ordering of this project so this listen is quite literally my first. I picked up Gracious Tide Take Me Home after a very wet Latitude in 2012, loved it and thus when I saw Lanterns on the Lake had new music coming out I simply bought sound unheard. Silly, perhaps, but I'm comfortable enough to permit such folly - after all that cuts to the heart of the reasoning behind this blog: I have too much that I don't appreciate!

First listens are rarely a fair appreciation of everything a record has to offer, but first impressions are generally amongst the most interesting. We shall see.

It opens with monitor-like beeping and a muted strumming over a straining squeal of a sound - long drawn out notes - backing up a very distinctive vocal. As the song goes the strumming is replaced, or augmented with keys, doing the same job of breaking up the backing in a similar manner. I rather like the atmosphere but the music doesn't give me anything concrete to latch on to that would allow me to say that it is a great start.

I'll Stall Them has a more rounded sound, more immediately identifiable with the group's prior work. Warm swirls of overlapping themes circle the lyric. There is a bit more life, more volume perhaps, than some earlier songs - its definitely from the same roots but feels a little less insular as a result. An openness in the melodies, the strings especially, speaks to a big picture rather than a closed shop. Today is all about recovery after a busy week. I have a lot to do this weekend but taking time out for things like this is important to making me feel human again and stop me thinking about how crappy the world is given events in Paris last night. Faultlines carries a sorrow, but it does it with a cadence and pace that makes it anything but wallowing. Richness of sound, lines laid atop each other to build a depth, a cushioning feel. My left index finger is hurting at the top joint when I type, this is an irritant and I hope it is temporary as I have targeted getting up to date on Actual Play write-ups this weekend in addition to a couple of listens. Thus far I am enjoying this, though.

A very different type of melody - thick and again shared between guitar and keys is the opening of The Crawl. Gone are the textured layers here to start, though they begin to build up again their use is more sparse than on previous tunes, with the bulk of the structure carried by the drums, which have a nice rumble in their pattern, and the one clear melody. These two elements mesh really nicely, taking my ear away from the vocal, which feels odd. Lanterns on the Lake always appealed because of the nesting of their song inside the webs the music created but here the vocal is less appealing, fading. Now we have two shorter songs, the first a simple piano melody that builds up an aura of other bits and pieces rather than sharing focus around. The vocal is in places so soft as to be barely audible. The second piece is a brighter sound clear and clean notes as opposed to the previous use of sustain, at least in the opening. I prefer the second track, though it appears to lose its sense of self about two thirds through and devolve into mediocre guitar wailing, rather ruining the appreciation of the early segment.

The title track is longer again - 6 and a half minutes. This feels very much in the vein of their prior output, much of which is labeled shoegaze in a staggeringly negative genre-typing, as if introspection is something to be avoided. Too much of it can cause problems, of course - but so, too, can too little. This is a slow piece and reminds me as much of post rock (a staggeringly pretentious genre-typing), early This Will Destroy You in particular. I like the melodies, but the vocal degrades to ill-advised edginess in places, a style that really does not suit our singer's voice.

There is a real feeling of detachment about the opening of Stepping Down. This feels like something off another album, darker, distant, emptier. The vocal is the focal point when it is in play, and that provides the continuity from the tracks before, but soundscape-wise this is much bleaker, lonely and cold. Uncaring. Its well crafted and I rather like the track but it feels a little out of place. I am immediately drawn back in by the construction of Stuck for an Outline though. Nice engaging guitars, which my ear clings to amid the swell of the vocal and strengthening percussion of the climactic moments. Oddly I am left with the feeling that the vocals let this album down a little, which is a surprise to me. I think I will need to listen again in other circumstances where my own words are not my mind's primary stream of consciousness in order to get a fairer appraisal. I definitely need to listen to this again soonish in order to let the tracks bed in. It's bound to be better when it is more familiar.

The record comes to a close with a pointless little meander, an instrumental which really offers very little at first glance. As I close this post in turn, I am left feeling good about the purchase in general despite a couple of apparent flaws and foibles.