Awake but Always Dreaming - Hannah Peel

Track list:

1. All That Matters
2. Standing on the Roof of the World
3. Hope Lasts
4. Tenderly
5. Don't Take It out on Me
6. Invisible City
7. Octavia
8. Awake but Always Dreaming
9. Conversations
10. Foreverest
11. Cars in the Garden

Running time: 48 minutes
Released: 2016

So I had a random shuffle on. Started with some Red Snapper, but quickly ended up in Singer-Songwriter land, through Lisa Knapp and Alessi's Ark. This last one made me think it had been a while since Alessi's last album, and I searched to find that she'd released one 2 days ago. Coincidence. Cue an instant purchase, download and play (spoiler: it's good!). From there I got sucked on to LastFM and exploring similar artists. Seeing a bunch of people I like a lot in that list I took a punt on Hannah Peel who also showed up and sounded interesting. So here I am, much later on.. and with that long rambling intro, lets see how the promise plays out.

We open with some very spangly electronic notes, then add an ethereal voice.  I can both see why the genre tag on this says "Dance & DJ" and why that tag is utterly wrong. There are bits in and amongst it - chiefly the voice and the tone of it - which make it clear why Peel was put up as similar to Alessi's Ark, but the overall style and direction are quite different. Not bad, just different.

I am happier with the opening of the second track. This is more like what I was after when I bought this album... then I realise my mistake. And old and common one relating to not removing shuffle. Start again. The actual second track is and interesting one. Slow, sparse, measured. It could be an epic soundtrack, the gravitas from the pacing really needs a visual. The vocal is a bit disappointing, but the atmosphere created on the tune is one I like a lot, one that is then shattered by the change in track as we head back towards the sound we opened up with.

This flip-flopping I suppose gives me something to moan about... but actually I don't want to moan. I rather like the flow. Hope Lasts is a good example of something that I would run a mile from on the radio, but in context here, I find myself really enjoying its cheesy synths and brighter tone. As we head into December things that bring brightness and warmth are well received. The short days, miserable skies and chilly temperatures all sap at my will to live. Little things like the right tone of music can make a big difference to how I feel in the depths of winter. The right tone isn't always light and bright - dark, cold and distant can sometimes be what I need - but right now? Yeah, light and bright please. It's like sometimes you're really wanting familiarity, and other times really interested in exploring new stuff; same deal.

So far this new stuff is working quite nicely - though I am not under any misconceptions that it will become an instant favourite or anything like that. There are some glaring flaws for a start, most notably the lyrics tending to the samey and repetitive, but there are some very nice sounds to sit behind them and the package averages out in the positive.

Invisible City is the track it shuffled to after the opener. I really like the keys on this, and the stately pace. The vocal drips honey, a luscious warmth even in its detachment. The tone is enveloping, a blanket against the outside world. Best track yet - and one I can genuinely see myself loving after a couple more listens.

As I find myself attuning to Peel's style, it grows on me. I like how she mixes up her sounds a lot, how the various bits and pieces fit together, and how she clearly cannot be labeled as mono-dimensional. There are tracks here that skip around several different styles, sounds that come from all over the place, and yet... they sound whole and as though they belong. Sometimes however the cadence of the piece is not quite right. The title track seems to have far too much empty space in it, too much track length to run out, meaning much of it is plodding, too sparse. Through it she is building up the layers of sound but for my money not really doing enough with them and it all feels quite staid, which given the variety of sounds is quite a feat in itself.

When Hannah Peel brings out the piano keys though, there is a nice satisfying resonance to them. She doesn't over-elaborate, using simple and amply-spaced notes to give a solid foundation. This is not complex note-wrangling, but it is really nice craftsmanship (even if the layers on top of the keys sometimes let down). She seems to use the piano structurally, thus creating tunes you think you could play, a deceptive and effective bluff, because the piano alone tells you nothing of the track as a whole.


The second really long track on the album starts much more promisingly, but loses its way about half way through its almost 9 minute duration. But you know what? I really like this album, despite the obvious weak spots.

 

It closes with an odd duet, charmingly odd. Overall, it's a winner.

Interlude: Three Craws - James Yorkston

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

Publisher site

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

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

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

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

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

Case / Lang / Veirs

Track list:

1. Atomic Number
2. Honey and Smoke
3. Song for Judee
4. Blue Fires
5. Delirium
6. Greens of June
7. Behind the Armory
8. Best Kept Secret
9. 1,000 Miles Away
10. Supermoon
11. I Want To Be Here
12. Down I-5
13. Why Do We Fight
14. Georgia Stars

Running time: 43 minutes
Released: 2016

This one almost passed me by earlier in the year, but once I caught wind I had to grab it. I was never a fan of k.d. lang, but Neko Case and Laura Veirs on the other hand both had multiple albums in my collection, even before I went out and bought up what I didn't have of Veirs' work after loving Carbon Glacier. My initial impressions weren't amazing, but simply pretty solid. Moments of wonder - particularly from Case's depth of vocal expression - but not a stunning album taken as a whole. I think I listened through it three or 4 times on the commute but always then my attention was elsewhere. There are a lot of tracks in not much time, so lets get to it.

Atomic Number is a breezy opening. Soft singing individually in the verses, lines shared between voices which then combine for the chorus. I like the chorus more; it feels more real somehow - I think because Case in particular sounds a little throttled in the verse and not at all in the harmony, where she dominates. The backing is fairly generically sweet, and actually a little characterless; it lives and dies on the singing. That is a criticism that I think applies beyond the single track.

I am fitting this in on a Sunday evening, before going back to work after a week off tomorrow. I am tired and virtually braindead after a weekend of roleplaying both days. Saturday was brutal because I'd woken up at 3am that day and not got back to sleep.  I mention this to appologise (to my future self reading this back, I guess) for the lack of detail of insight here. From that point of view the gentle and familiar music - in the sense of playing up to genre-typing, not my own familiarity with the specific tracks - is actually a blessing. It sort of rolls along easily, even when the text of the lyrical content is darker, as on Song for Judee, which Veirs leads nicely.

I said above that I was never a fan of k.d. lang; in truth I was never really aware of her music, even as I was aware of the name. I don't quite know how this built into a sneering attitude, but it did - the stupidity of youth would be my excuse.That is all the comment I can muster on Blue Fires, and even Delirium, with Neko Case off her full tilt, and bells backing up that deeply resonant lushness is half gone by the time I am done. Braindead, yes. I think this is the high point of the disc for me, based on the aforementioned car-based exposure, but I kinda hope it isn't as the song is less impactful each time I hear it. I was wooed by it first time because that voice is amazing, but since then I am hearing more of what it lacks compared Case's best work. I can't put a finger on those things in my current state - of course I can't, useless boy! - but whilst the singing is full-blooded, the arrangement falls flat.

This is all pleasant enough though hardly setting my world alight... until the first harmony on the chorus of Behind the Armory which is just lovely. The softly trilling guitar and string arrangement carries a so-so tune, thankfully augmented by some wind instruments as it goes, but the timbre and touch of the vocal here is gorgeous, even if the song ends abruptly. The transition to the next track is a really stark one too - as Best Kept Secret is a pacier number with prominent percussion. At 3 minutes 17 seconds long, this is one of the longer tracks on the album, and it feels it. In part this is a result of how bland I find the tune, but really I actually think it is more a comment on how exposure normalises things for us. The short tracks breed expectation of more of the same and the faster pace of this song means it crams more in, which means it feels like it should end sooner than it does and the 3.17 feels like about half as much more than it needed.

I cannot be fair to this disc in this state, closing my eyes when I am not typing (and even when I am) as my lids grow heavy. Nothing really stands out because the whole sound is registering less well, and because the general tone of the record is set as a sort of easy walking pace. It is an incredibly accessible album in that regard - there is nothing challenging here, it is comfortable in sound. I suspect that I am simply engaging on the surface level and that the nuance and craft is buried a level below which that my tired mind can unlock right now. The patterns are so familiar and gentle it is easy to pick them up and sway along with them. I can't get any deeper than "simple and supportive backing" and "gosh those voices combine nicely - though perhaps that, the latter in particular, is enough. The album is strongest, I feel, when two or more of our titular singers are in action together.

Just as I type that, Down I-5 starts, and here Case's voice carries in a nice floating sense over an arrangement that is dominated by drums, with the melody, such as it is, quiet beneath them both. It has an open, big sky quality to it that is just beautiful. There are moments where the voices combine and intertwine on this track too, but its that floating lonely opening that makes the song. Typical; how life likes to make us contradict ourselves like that. Anyway, the disc is almost done.

Georgia Stars has the sound of... something else I can't pin down. This is led by Veirs and perhaps it just sounds like a Veirs song but I don't think it is that simple. There is a particular quality to the notes and tone here. The twang and snap of the bass, lead guitar and percussion create a very distinctive sound and it annoys me that I cannot place what I think it sounds like. Oh well; that thought will have to go unaddressed as the music stops - the song is done and so is the album, and this post.

Buoyancy - Nils Petter Molvær

Track list:

1. Ras Mohammed
2. Gilimanuk
3. Moute Cave
4. Jackson Reef
5. Puri Jati
6. Lamna Reef
7. Amed
8. Martoli Bridge
9. Kingfish Castle
10. Maddagala

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2016

More Scandi-jazz, bought alongside Atmosphères - though I have been familiar with Molvær for longer than Henriksen. I was first attracted by description of how the trumpet was laid on over electronic soundscapes but to be honest since my initial purchase (NP3) I think I may have been picking stuff up based on name recognition and concept rather than any deep appreciation of Molvær's actual material. This will be a good litmus test.

It opens with a heartbeat-sounding throb, but then introduces prog-rockish guitars, the horn lurking inside melodies that wouldn't be out of place in a concept album. The piece picks up some pace about the 2.30 mark and it has a decent life to it, but it is a little removed from anything I could have expected going in. I am starting to wonder whether a trumpet appears at all in this Pink Floydian first tune when I hear a snatch of it, unmistakable. It is not the star though, part of the ensemble here.

As we leave prog-rock behind for the start of the second track, the attention does focus on the blower. This tune is slower, languid, and with a hint of danger. Night time noir music - I have used this description many times by now and I still find it the most easily evocative phrasing for what I mean. Rooted in soundtracks, night shots of cities, aerial or street shots, camera pans - scene setting stuff rather than accompanying the action or showdowns - but definitely reminiscent of a certain type of tension. Jazz is good at this, even when not made by the Americans that come most readily to mind when thinking of Noir. Even when the sounds are more modern than the "classic" noir era would support. I think its fair to say I like Gilimanuk, though the name could use some work.

After a brief interlude we hit a more percussive number, Jackson Reef being driven by a high tempo and heavy on the electronics. The themes that come out dominant are actually slow, low and spaced out affairs, and the contrast between this and the incessant pace set by the drumming creates a decent cauldron before the melodies get a bit of a fuel injection and become more intricate for a while. I prefer the contrast though, and when that comes back the track improves again. About a minute from the end the percussion dies out and we get an outro that feels like a different track. Similarity is maintained in the guitars and the lonely trumpet strikes up to carry us home, outlasting the strands of continuity. It makes for a strange ride of a tune, but apart from the moment where the drums just stop it works quite nicely and organically.

I have, I am sure, mentioned before about my weakness for long, lonely notes. I find that the trumpet is pretty much king when it comes to delivering on this. There is a yearning in the natural timbre of this instrument that when employed in certain fashion or style becomes the dominant and overriding emotion in the piece. Puri Jati has this in spades and I really like it. The tune also manages to hark back to the Bastion soundtrack by virtue of its low-end structures, and that reference makes me smile. The two themes I picked up there should be incongruous in many ways but I find they knit together well. As I consider that, the disc plays on and a slower number lazily reaches out to my ears. There is definite variation on this disc, which is a plus-point... though as I type that the electronics evolve into a high pitched squeak and make for a rather unpleasant end to the track.

Amed is the longest track on the disc. To now, everything has been relatively short and sweet, lending a feeling of momentum even on the tracks with less pace. This one stretches to 9 minutes, and as such I am expecting a centrepiece.

It starts slow, atmospheric, and builds. Mostly bass and trumpet, the former bringing threat and the latter bringing hope. When, about half way through, the guitars and electronics arrive they emphasize the first of these two elements, and it becomes a dark, screechy track, long drawn out screeches, cries for help. The drums and bass pick up speed and the thrumming basis for the piece grows around the electronics, establishing dominance. It has definitely built, and it definitely works as a focal point for the disc. The trumpet, meanwhile, disappeared somewhere along the way; what results is a piece that I like but which could be by any number of purveyors of electronica. Then it all goes quiet, the trumpet returns and we end with a final act that bids recollection, reminiscence. A masterwork it isn't, but it is a good solid epic around which to build the album.

Three tracks come after. The first is short and reverential, Molvær's horn standing alone, with some background static that hints at waves; it's a nice palate cleanser. The next actually resonates with the title of the album, the rhythms here conjouring images of a boat rocking on waves, tipping cargo gently from side to side and making soft impacts each time. Its a lovely effect because whilst the reality of boats bobbing on waves isn't as regular as the rhythm behind this sound, the actual beat pattern carries a feel of irregularity to it, whilst still serving as the backbone for the themes that are layered over it. This might be my favourite track on the disc, and I have only really taken on board the percussion. The bobbing percussion is dropped at the end, along with all themes, for an engine-like rumble that just sees the tune out; this I find an odd choice, and a disappointing one.

The final track feels lighter, pairing the trumpet with a nice guitar theme which gives me a Mogwai-like vibe, albeit perhaps a little more chilled. I can't shake the feeling it goes too long without introducing major variation though, and it all merges to become a little bland as a result. Nice sounds, but going nowhere, if you will. There is a shake up in tone and theme about the midpoint of the track but it feels too late. The tune, particularly the trumpet line, is nice but my brain has already disengaged a little, the smell of food cooking, and the knowledge of work to do.

All in all, I think this is a nice disc, and one I can see spending more time with, but not anything outstanding. Molvær's ideas are interesting and worth exploring, even if they don't always reach that one step further that would turn them to genius.

Atmosphères (Disc 2) - Tigran Hamasyan, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Jan Bang

Track list:

9. Traces VII
10. Traces VIII
11. Shushiki
12. Hoy, Nazan
13. Traces IX
14. Traces X
15. Angel Of Girona / Qeler Tsoler

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2016

Disc 2 of Atmosphères. I have continued track list numerically, because I can, and because that is how it was represented when I looked it up wherever it was I copied it from.

Yesterday I loved part 1; the opening notes of this disc though leave a fair bit to be desired. Chaotic is probably the best word for it. Entropic. Not musical, more a collection of snatched sounds from the various instruments and samples rather than a piece to be enjoyed. Cohesion comes into the picture a bit more as the tune finds its feet but it is still a far cry from the best strains of yesterday's enjoyment - the mellow and caressed playing is nowhere in sight. And this track is 9 minutes long. Poles apart from yesterday.

I am a frustrated man this evening. Back to work tomorrow morning for a very busy day, and one of my main aims for the weekend has been shot down. Twice I went round the neighbours' place to talk to them about the damp situation that my plumber and building inspector both thought was likely to be a leak on their side; twice no answer. The first time I think they were out, but the second time, windows open, washing out... no answer all the same. Frustrating. Need to get their landlord's phone number because if there is a leak their side I can't repair the damage on mine with any confidence. I was hoping that some gloriously created jazz themes might be the antidote to that frustration, but this digression is because Traces VII never does come together as an enjoyable piece. It gets less cacophonous and more considered in places but the overall impression is still far from favourable.

This is the only really long piece on disc 2. Like the first half, this part of Atmosphères is made up of more bitesize numbers, with the other 6 all under that many minutes. Traces VIII is a little more akin to the glories of disc 1 but it still seems to me to have an edge to it, a tension and a starkness. The trumpet is taut, bleak and stretched in places, the piano wandering the lower registers of its keyboard. Isolation and unease are two major impressions that I am getting. At this point, I think I will welcome the two Komitas tunes to come, and I find myself wondering if that is why they ordered the tracks in this way.

I got some proper exercise today, getting out cycling. I didn't go far really - probably no further in fact than my previous two exploratory forays - but what I did do is leave town and do a stretch which involved no stopping or slowing for the first time since I bought the bike. Glad I did, though I felt like I was dying after I made it back (not before mind; only once I was back in the door). They say it's good for you, you know.

The music has definitely taken another step towards coherence and recognisable tunes. Not as astounding as those on the first half, but better in that regard (and in favour) than the first two numbers of tonight's attention. The main piano theme in Shushiki is gorgeous, the space they have filled around it somewhat less so. Another beautiful piano melody strikes up as that one dies. Hoy, Nazan quickly becoming my favourite so far this evening. There is a wonderful clarity about the sound of the keys here, up and down the scale, played quickly as fingers flicker hither and yon. The other instruments exist only to offer support, as it should be. This is more like it, but very fleeting.

Two more Traces next. The first one is all wandering sounds... like an empty pitch black room where things collide occasionally. You hear the silence as a sense of space - walls enclosing you as the darting noises come and go. It segues from a piano melody to the trumpet at some point... melody in the loosest sense of the word. Like on the first disc I see them building a real, well, atmosphere through their playing. Unlike yesterday I am failing to find the magic in the creations. Maybe that speaks more to my mindset, my frustration coming through, but I think there is a tonal shift here. Less beautifully played soft piano pieces with haunting backing, more haunting backing with occasional tune surfacing. It feels kind of backwards. The final Trace is a low rumble, two minutes with virtually nothing else to it, then a brief hint of a tune. It isn't enough, but when it does start building the swells of sound are really very appealing, subtlety restored and bringing rewards. Perhaps this second post is prejudiced by the first. I had no expectations yesterday; today they were high and largely dashed.

The final number is a lonely trumpet calling out over wandering bassy keys and the now de rigueur atmospherics. The trumpet has an Asian or Middle-Eastern aspect to it; fitting. The close comes with the sound of waves, sweeping in and washing away the final trace. Overall, Atmosphères is still very good - but I found this second half far less enthralling than the first. Right place, right time perhaps.

Atmosphères (Disc 1) - Tigran Hamasyan, Arve Henriksen, Eivind Aarset, Jan Bang

Track list:

1. Traces I
2. Tsirani Tsar
3. Traces II
4. Traces III
5. Traces IV
6. Traces V / Garun A
7. Traces VI
8. Garun A (Variation)

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2016

Left-field purchase time. Well, sort of. I have a fair bit of Scandinavian jazz music kicking about and I was familiar with Avre Henriksen, which is why this caught my eye when browsing Amazon recently. The blurb made this work sound particularly interesting - based around Armenian folk patterns, courtesy of the pianist, which could be a nice blend. First listen.

The thing I immediately notice is the names of the tracks. Everything is Traces, except tunes that are directly handed down from Armenian musician Komitas. I guess the others are "traces" of his work too, to some degree, giving the album its theme. Most of them are short - a touch over pop song length, not what I might have expected going in - but Traces V makes up for that, running to 12 minutes.

The opening bars are quiet. There is a humming, slow oscillating bass and then a light-touch piano starts up. It is all very chilled, very zen. Very discreet background music for quiet moments. You couldn't listen to this whilst out and about, or whilst driving, because you just wouldn't hear it over the intrusions of the wider world. Its soft enough listening to it in my front room with just a hint of traffic noise from wet roads coming in from outside. I like the gentleness of it, though it would perhaps be better for late night relaxation than early evening study. The piece remains all about the keys and that thrum, though another focal point is added towards the end of the piece; the trumpet hardly makes an audible appearance, and I believe that one of the others is a guitarist and there is little concrete trace of them either.

There is a real charm about the way Hamasyan caresses the keys of his piano. He has a soft touch, a wandering hand that reminds me of the joys of simply letting your hands wander over keys with no real forethought of what might come up. The piano is most noticeable in the higher registers, which adds to this lazy improvisational impression - even as he is playing one of the composed pieces. Here, Henriksen's trumpet is the main accompaniment, taking up a significant part of the melody. Again there is a low-level brooding in the background sounds; it reminds me a little of Vangelis', specifically some of the Blade Runner soundtrack in places - coming back to how little melodies drift in and out over a slightly brooding background. Do like.

Suddenly all is a blur of motion, rapid hands running all over the keyboard. That is quite a departure in tone, nothing like as soothing as what has gone before. The hubbub dies down a little at the Traces continue, but it has introduced a more frenetic, more urgent sound and feeling to the work. That energy persists even as the piece is muted, low amplitude, in the vein of what came before. This second Trace stands alone in its urgency though, as that impetus and energy is absent again once the track ticks over. On the one hand I now miss it; on the other the piano part is so darn nice that whilst I find the slow tempo, quietude, and generally subdued nature of the pieces soporific, I also find the music enchanting and enticing.

The quiet nature of the pieces does seem to encourage distraction though in the context of this exercise. If I were sat back, not recording my thoughts, I could close my eyes and concentrate on the low key wonder, the spaces in and around the melodies in these tracks. Having to be upright, alert and typing though, the sparse nature of the work finds me falling into sinkholes - spaces in the music becoming spaces in my thought as my concentration wavers from my task. I have said before that these posts are not reviews, and I am not a critic; I find it hard to put the right words on this work. My wavering attention is absolutely not a bad sign, not correlated to my appreciation. This is a special kind of disc... it is so much of a light touch that sometimes you may lose track of it, but every trace you find and catch is amazingly well executed that despite the tendency to want a little more to latch on to it draws you in, right up until the point where the sound drops so soft that you lose track again.

I have hit the long number and for the first time some dissent. The way is opens (hah! It is 3 minutes in by the time I am typing this) is less enveloping, less magical. I couldn't close my eyes and drift on this in the way that I could with what has come before.

I find myself wondering where music like this fits in the modern world; the pieces espouse quiet, calm and solitude and it really takes an effort to create the right space to listen to such things. Time and effort I don't imagine most people can or will make. Hell, were it not for this project I doubt I would ever get to enjoy this... I would have bought it, then skipped every track on a shuffle for being too quiet, too demanding to listen to in the same way that I consume the majority of my music. And that is a real shame. I am less than half way through Atmosphères (given there is a second disc to come) but it is leaving quite an impression. It is properly an album, not a collection of tunes, and it demands to be consumed as such. Were its pieces surrounded by tonally dissonant works, these are the ones that would suffer more for it. And for all that I am loving these tunes, I doubt seriously that I will ever enjoy them quite the same way, or as much, again. One and done, despite falling in love with it. That thought makes me sad, but the realities of keeping this project moving - of finding the time to the things I have decided for myself I will listen to - have proved difficult enough in busy times.

Mood, killed.

Trace 6 is disappointing. Like the one earlier that had unexpected energy, this is at odds with the overall tone of the record. Unlike that one, this does not seem to have much else to recommend it instead. It is a more piecemeal effort, with the musicians coming across less in sync, and the piano, which I have particularly loved, relegated to a bit part/supporting role. It just falls a little flat, though part of that may be my self-induced buzzkill. Thankfully the final piece - another Komitas-penned tune - ends this first half on a more representative and enjoyable note, with the piano and trumpet weaving around each other nicely.

I have no words left, find myself at a loss to adequately describe the nature of the sounds. I am left with the nagging doubt that progress isn't always such, and that the pace of modern life does much to zone out work like this, to our detriment.

At Swim - Lisa Hannigan

Track list:

1. Fall
2. Prayer For The Dying
3. Snow
4. Lo
5. Undertow
6. Ora
7. We The Drowned
8. Anahorish
9. Tender
10. Funeral Suit
11. Barton

Running time: 39 minutes
Released: 2016

So a second interlude in the midst of the DiFranco discs. This arrived before Astronaut Meets Appleman, but I didn't get to it before the latter arrived, so At Swim got relegated. It has now been sat around, un-listened to, for over a month.

I was trawling around online looking for new music and saw that Lisa Hannigan had a record out. I raised an eyebrow - whilst I loved Sea Sew, I found Passenger much less interesting. However I looked into it, to find that this album is produced by Aaron Dessner of The National whose work on This is the Kit's Bashed Out I liked a lot. Sold, then. Now to find out if that was wise...

It opens with a gentle little strum, and then a typically husky intonation from our singer. It is a laid back beginning, low key and approachable. Ooh, a swell and a hint of harmony in the vocal; pity it comes on wandering, directionless notes not in more defined lyrics. That said, the general tone of this first track is a big winner for me. It harks back a little, more reminiscent of Sea Sew than Passenger for me. Before Fall ends I find myself getting impatient for the close, but that did not manifest until the denouement so I don't hold too much against it. I'm sure the second track will be cheerier... oh, wait. No - it matches the title in tone.

The reasons for the sparse September around these parts are many and varied. From business travel to Boggle, family to fatigue, spending to... exercising? I am trying to shake some of my overall inactivity in favour of a healthier approach. Time is yet to comment on the merits or longevity of this idea. I find Prayer for the Dying quite tiresome on initial exposure. It sounds as though there might be something of interest there, but it is buried in the supporting sounds if so. The vocal is drifting, the pace plodding and my overuse of alliteration is annoying even me by now. This is a candidate for the chop, but as with other things in the past I don't feel that ridding myself of tunes I have given no chance is helpful. It might be a grower.

Ah! More like it. Snow has a simpler sound, and a hushed, whispering singing that feels like a caress to my ears, gently drawing attention away from the nice but muted melodies that hide behind Hannigan's song. I love this woman's voice when she uses like this - all soft edges - it has a soothing quality. The synergy with the rest of the composition is pretty great too, in particular the way her tones interweave with the piano part in the arrangement. Its glorious how my ears did not know which to follow, drawn keenly to both. If this isn't the stand out track from the album I will be very surprised.

I am feeling good about the purchase at this stage - actually I think Snow probably justifies it outright for me. It is not a complete retread of old ground. The general sound of these tunes is different from either of the other albums I have thanks to changes in the arrangement - Dessner's impact perhaps? I like that it is so, for as much as I love Sea Sew, a retread offers nothing (and a retread of Passenger would be forgettable I suspect). It isn't all great, but there are some great moments.

Undertow is an odd track. I suspect it is a grower. My initial response to it is not positive, but there are elements there that I really like - the staccato strings, the general progression of the backing that provides the rhythm and structure - and I think with a few listens I might appreciate other elements of the sound more. That said, by the end of the piece it felt a little repetitive and I am glad when the next number reverts to piano to support Hannigan's ethereal singing. Her vocal style glides over and under and around the tune, which left to itself is nice distraction but no more. The song finishes rather abruptly - or it feels like it does to me, at least.

It is not a cheery album, not a bit of it. Any uplift comes from the enjoyment of her voice and the occasionally light touches of the keyboard. Pace is generally slow, funereal even, and tone is primarily sombre. This does not prevent it from having moments of real charm. There is a spot in We, The Drowned where the arrangement is left to it that is wonderfully tuneful, peaceful and absorbing.That tune is replaced by an a capella number which showcases some unusual harmonies and choices in terms of the singing. I am not sure what I make of it. On balance I am probably glad when a more expected song structure returns for Tender. Having said that the slow tempo and downbeat nature of the songs is starting to wear on me a bit.

There is real beauty in her singing, and I can hear touches of class in how the pieces have been put together. It feels really well crafted more than anything. However the darkness of the tones starts to grate after a while. What it needs is another Snow to pull up the rooting doubts. However a song titled Funeral Suit was never likely to be the shot in the arm I was after, and indeed it isn't; more of the same - nicely sung, nicely played, nicely put together but overwhelmingly morose. I think I would enjoy this more in bitesize installments rather than as a full meal. They say the album is a dying art, as good as dead, even; maybe I am finally starting to see it that way. Or maybe I am just tired; that seems more likely.

To say the last song is cheery would be misleading, but it doesn't have the same tones that have grown to irk me. There are some nice uses of electronics here too - it has a very different feel, actually and does work as a nice closer, cleanser, even uplifting things. The key line is crucial to the lightness here, but it is the electronic percussion that makes the track - a really significant part of the arrangement, front and centre in its usage but with subtle application in that despite being the thing that most draws my ear it never dominates. Most importantly it synchronises darn well with everything else used.

I feel much better about the album after that final track. Two standouts then, but if asked to pick I would have to chose Snow every time. Hannigan returned, I am happy for that, but I doubt I will consume all of this in album form again; maybe once in the car to try to let the other songs grow on me, perhaps...

Astronaut Meets Appleman - King Creosote

Track list:

1. You Just Want
2. Melin Wynt
3. Wake Up To This
4. Faux Call
5. Betelgeuse
6. Love Life
7. Peter Rabbit Tea
8. Surface
9. Rules Of Engagement

Running time: 43 minutes
Released: 2016

New KC record, and barely a month after I picked up Bound of the Red Deer, too. Kenny's always been prolific though so two records in a year doesn't surprise in that sense. This is not quite a virgin listen as I took the album into the car right off on Friday (release day, thanks Amazon Prime), but I've only done two short hops, with passengers to boot, so I have far from absorbed it yet.

It starts with a rather... un-King Creosote like hook. I remember this from setting off. A rich, bassy pattern that is more akin to the endings of KC's tracks than the beginnings. There is a nice roll there though, and the voice and vocal alike are instantly impactful. The arrangement of strings, adding a shrill top end over the rounded sound of the guitar and bass is a lushness that I am not used to. It sounds like there is a bit more muscle behind this disc, more resources at the disposal of my favourite Fifer. The song is rather un-KC like in length too,drawing out over 7 minutes. This is long enough for the established pattern of the bass line to go stale, but for the fact it is such a comfortable little loop, the timing of it works very naturally, and the selection of sounds over the top end are varied and pleasant. It is a strong opener in terms of setting a scene, and perhaps expectations.

Melin Wynt has a very different tone from the off, bagpipes prominent and the guitar much lighter. It feels a more whimsical track - prior to any singing as yet - but the feel of studio and label backing remains. Bigger, richer sounds - even if that sound is predominantly a screeching bagpipe tune to begin with. The instrument is an acquired taste. Pipes drop out, thankfully, as the vocal comes in. Vocal effects applied here, too; a floating distance created. The thing that really sold me on King Creosote back when I first heard him was the voice. Kenny Anderson manages to sing beautifully with a fragility that conveys emotion as well as anyone I have ever heard. Here there is less of that broken edge brought by the fragile aspects to it, which I find a shame. Moving on, Wake Up to This feels more upbeat.

Any raw edge lost by virtue of having more recording wizardry available is offset nicely by the benefits of the lusher arrangements. Nice, big, bold sounds here. I could get all preachy and complain about losing the magic of the songs in the process, but I think it is more the case that given more to play with, a new range of songs opened up. Faux Call sounds more familiar, more stripped back. The sound is still richer, but the arrangement is simpler, initially at least. It grows as the song goes on. There are words sung in this one that remind me of several other KC songs in their delivery alone. The magical nature of his best vocal work exhibited, even as I find the tune rather plodding. 

There are some more rough and ready sounds to be had, too. Betelgeuse starts with some. It segues into a fuller, more rounded sound as it carries forward, but its scratchy and distant recording over the first minute or so harks back to CDR albums of the past. The percussion is very KC-like, and actually this song feels the most archetypal of anything thus far on this album. It is safe to say I like it a lot. Understated and accessible, familiar and enjoyable. Oh darn it, followed by a generic love song. Saved by that voice, and the gentle cadence of it. It is very dad-rock, I'm sure, but I am getting old enough to be fine with that now, and I can forgive a lot for singing like this. The backing vocals are kinda irritating, but Anderson's vocal on Love Life is a gem.

Less fond of what follows; I get the meaning of Peter Rabbit Tea, and its source, but the actual effect is not enjoyable as an aural experience for me. 

Surface opens with a rich sound - a definite theme to the recording here. I really like the sense of space it gives, and the higher tempo and rockier sense to the song is welcome. I doubt that this will ever make it in to a list of my favourite King Creosote tracks, but there are some really nice effects over this track - a high top end of wandering sounds, barely audible over the main theme and vocal, give a sense of volume and expanse to it. They are less effective when, added to by a bagpipe, they become the track in the middle. Once the vocal kicks in again I am back in a good place with the track.

Getting towards the end of the disc now; overall impressions are positive - I would expect them to be; King Creosote is the closest I get to fanboyism and proselytising that all should share my musical obsession. I like the bigger sounds, rather than overrunning his natural songwriting and lyricism, they have been employed in service of same. I prefer the lighter touch on balance, but then I have had an awful lot of listens to bed in my favourites in the past decade or however long and a couple of goes at this lot. This disc clearly needs more time and attention, one track aside.

The Bound of the Red Deer - King Creosote + Michael Johnston

Track list:

1. When I was a Thief
2. Round & Round
3. Will You Wait for Me
4. Billows Roll
5. Since We've Fallen Out
6. Hang Dog
7. Helpless to Turn
8. Supermoon
9. All of This in Writing
10. Inushuks

Running time: 35 minutes
Released: 2016

This one almost sneaked by me. It took an email from Amazon trying to flog me crap I didn't want as the headline to bring it to light (so I guess the mail outs work, eh?), and only after I had already ordered KC's Astronaut Meets Appleman which is coming in September. I recognised the name of collaborator Michael Johnston from The Burns Unit, and two of the tracks here are re-recordings of tracks from Side Show. Do I expect this to blow me away? No. Do I expect some sort of KC magic in here to make it worth the purchase? Oh yes.

The opening strains are an understated piano and a noodling guitar melody before Kenny's voice breaks in, that faltering, emotional delivery a defining element of why I love King Creosote. The instrumentation is a little light, but there is some playing with effects, of distance and volume of space. It is a slow and reflective song, not stellar and a touch dry in the composition, but performed in a familiar manner that enables me to forgive those weaknesses where, for other artists, I surely would not.

It has been too quiet on these pages this month. A 3 week dearth of posting brought about by weekends away, the plethora of sport on radio, TV and online with the Olympics. I've also been less than 100% mood-wise of late, which is surely another factor. It'll be good to get back into this, maybe it would help with the mood things to do so. Now the summer games are behind us, though the summer weather only just arrived or so it seems, and I have to force myself to pick up the baton again. Round & Round starts much as When I was a Thief left off, but then almost instantly grows a bit more. There will be more backing here, the noticeable percussion giving that away instantly. Unfortunately the vocalist is Johnston not Anderson and, whilst I rather like the simple rhythm and low key piano melody there is something missing here. Even when KC pipes up I am less than taken with the overall effect of the track. It might be a grower though. I have mentioned plenty of times before that composing these posts based on first exposure is not ideal in that respect; plenty of music takes some time to bed into our consciousness before we really appreciate it.

In addition to mood issues, I am shattered having failed to sleep well the past two nights. Sunday night was no surprise as the start of a new week often does that I find, but last night knocked me for six. Good job I'm working from home tomorrow, though I have to organise both tradesmen and travel over and above my normal duties. Alas.

Will You Wait for Me has a tinge of Americana to its opening, something about the twang to the guitar that then fades in significance as the tune develops. It is slow again, nice piano again, but underwhelming again. There are moments of harmony between the two guys, but I cannot really say I find the meshing of their voices that exciting, and the Canadian's vocals are not nearly as compelling as the Scot's. Too little arrangement in the tune to capture me tonight. I am far from averse to stripped back tracks but these are a little too soporific in my strung out state. I really like the opening piano on Billows Roll but it loses some lustre the longer it goes without anything else to support it. By the time KC's tones are added, singing a strained, frail line, its a little too late. I like the melody, I like the vocal, but there is so much missing.

Now we hit the first Burns Unit re-recording. I am doubtful that these versions will be better, but only because I love both Since We've Fallen Out and Helpless to Turn in their first released forms. There Kenny duets with female vocalists, and the contrasting vocals and a lusher arrangement add depth to the tracks. Here we get a piano and guitar failing to build the right sound, and a lack of a second voice to set the lyrics off. The same pained lyrics are there, the same emotional rawness, but not the magic that wove them into a compelling track. With a bit more tempo to it, despite still being stripped back and low key, Hang Dog feels like a change. This is welcome as it was all getting a little disappointingly one-note. There is eventually the same piano and guitar core combination that has underpinned all the other tracks here but there is a different tone to the vocal as well as the higher pace. It is the tune I have enjoyed most other than the opening number.

Helpless to Turn sounds much more like the Burns Unit version in terms of arrangement, but like Since We've Fallen Out it misses the female vocal. It is a fabulous song though, and the clarity of the keyboard part here is nice. That said, I find that all it does is make me want to go dig up Side Show and listen to the wondrous way KC and Karine Polwart intertwine their voices. This rendition is also really short and ultimately ends up unfulfilling by comparison with the memory of the prior form.

Clarity of keys is the primary feature of Supermoon too. A tempo reminiscent of Hang Dog, a melody very King Creosote in note but played on an instrument he doesn't use much himself. I quite like this one, and then the penultimate number sounds like it could have come from From Scotland with Love, a bit brighter in tone. This too is welcome - a peppier tune even if the subject of the song is typically KC bleak or self deprecating. It ends by devolving into chanting and clapping though which is a little odd. Then we get an odd little 50 second ditty to close the disc. It's punchy but pointless.

Pointless would be harsh, but not necessarily unfair as a summation of this work based on first listen. I adore King Creosote, and will acquire what I can of his on release no questions asked because there are real gems buried in the immense mountain of material he puts out. I will listen to this more before finalising any judgments, because its only fair to give the tunes a chance. However this work is lacklustre on first exposure - a few tracks stand out but none of those come close to the heights I know one of these two can reach. Maybe more time is needed to grasp the subtleties and find the magic within.

Are You Serious - Andrew Bird

Track list:

1. Capsized
2. Roma Fade
3. Truth Lies Low
4. Puma
5. Chemical Switches
6. Left Handed Kisses
7. Are You Serious
8. Saints Preservus
9. The New Saint Jude
10. Valleys of the Young
11. Bellevue
12. Shoulder Mountain
13. Pulaski

Running time: 49 minutes
Released: 2016

What is it with my 2016 purchases all falling in to A and B? This is another that shunts overdue posts further down the list. It is the third Andrew Bird album to appear on these pages and this is my first listen to any of the tracks. I skipped one in a shuffle an evening or two ago because I was primed to do this, and because Bird didn't fit my mood at the time - I can be picky like that. However now it is his game in town. I have the "deluxe" edition with 2 bonus tracks.

One of the first things I note in the booklet as I open the physical package is a thank you to Fiona Apple, who guests on one of these tracks... very interesting! But enough of the physicalities (deluxe is overselling it), and on to the listen. It catches me off guard with a rocky opening, electrified, nice cadence. Strong start. There is a funkiness to the rhythm, the roll of the piece, that I really like, and although it becomes clear that the song lyrics are less than inspired the vocal style and the overall feel of the track keep it interesting. 

Roma Fade is more immediately recognisible as an Andrew Bird track - his distinctive staccato violin picking and whistling combination opening the track. There is a liveliness in the tempo here too, and some low-fi guitar work in the background, but here the initial star is Bird's voice. It becomes a bit lost in the other sounds as the track progresses, which is a shame but a sign of a growing and varied supporting cast of instruments rather than his performance tailing off. The track ends rather suddenly and we are pitched in to Truth Lies Low, which ... well, I can't find words to describe the odd effect here. It works, rather, but its a sort of low background hum plus voice. The dominant sounds are really hard to articulate. As the song builds it becomes a little more appreciable - the violin part coming in to give some top end. I find I like it a lot, though it touches on some sounds that make me think of cheesy lounge music or incomplete demo recordings in different places.

Andrew Bird isn't the first name that comes to mind when thinking about my favourite artists, but at the same time, his name on something makes it an instant buy from me by now. He is varied, which is one of the things I really like. The three songs so far have all felt very different in tone, and that continues to be the case with Puma, too. This is a man comfortable with several styles, rhythms and arrangements. In general this album seems to share a harder low-end sound than some others. The guitar work forming much of the structure a bit of a darker, tougher sound than the top end and influencing the overall sound of the songs more, without swamping the fiddling. It takes a while for the whistling to be broken out in full, but it is there on the intro to Chemical Switches, albeit in a slow, subdued fashion, subservient to the twang on the guitar. This track is really stripped back, acoustic only. Its the best yet - a really nice, clear melody and the right kind of feel for a Tuesday evening alone after (for the second day running) evening plans got cancelled. The song ends meekly, dropping out a little, but that's the only bad point.

Now we get a duet with Apple, whose first couple of albums are amongst my all time favourites. I am not sure that I would recognise her voice here if I didn't know it was her though... it is lower, older (no surprise some 20 years on from Tidal). Her voice here is lower than his in places, in tone if not in pitch. I find, though that the song is a little disappointing - not much to it, and I missed too many of the lyrics (that old problem) to get a sense of the point. The deficit in arrangement is shown up by what came before and what comes after.

I zoned out for a little bit, brought back around by a neat change of tempo mid-track in Saints Preservus (why the concatenation?). The pace injected is suddenly lost again and the piece turns almost classical, before the momentum is picked up again. Nicely done, and another sign of Bird's comfort across a range of performing styles. 

I am trying to find more to say but I keep falling back on one cliché or another or something I have already said. Not my finest, clearest thinking tonight I am afraid. I would be lying if I said I was as engaged by this point as I was at the commencement of the album, but at the same time I am sort-of sinking into it, losing track of my thoughts because the space Bird creates is comfortable and pleasant. I am into the bonus tracks now. There is a bit of a hint of The Leisure Society about Shoulder Mountain, which is no bad thing at all, more present in the verse than the chorus. I really like this number. Pulaski rounds us out with an Asian-ish sound to the opening, though this is quickly lost for the vocal sections it returns for an instrumental insert later and makes for an interesting tune.

Overall I think this is a pretty strong album without ever really being stellar. It felt a bit like slipping into comfortable clothes after a day dressed up for work - relaxing, reassuring and taking a weight off. Like its creator, I doubt it will ever be consciously thought of as a favourite, but it hits a large number of notes that I really appreciate. Very glad I picked it up.

The Banner Saga 2: Official Soundtrack - Austin Wintory

Track list:

1. An Oath, Until The End
2. The World is Breaking
3. Faces to the Wind  
4. Minds like Streams and Streams like Minds
5. A Path through the Skies
6. Under the Black Banner
7. Only Snow can Shield the Sun
8. Blades Yearn for Courageous Blood
9. Promises of Sanctuary
10. The Endlessly Grasping Bogs
11. Descended from Fire
12. Dragons in the Mud
13. Deep into the Rocks
14. Even the Trees can Smell your Blood
15. To the Skies
16. Children of the Fallen
17. Broken Shells
18. From the Shouting Rocks, his Eyes finally Opened
19. Paths Part
20. The Twilight Flight
21. With Eyes to the Endless Sun
22. Walls like Mountains
23. More Stars Tonight than Last Night
24. Threads Unweave
25. Our Steps, To the Night

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2016

A videogame soundtrack now. On those occasions I buy games on Steam, I find I am often splurging on the music too. This particular purchase was a no-brainer because the game it accompanies has a wonderful atmosphere that I am confident this will support. The Banner Saga is a series of epic Norse narrative, part wonderful story with dramatic and difficult choices, part crappy tactics battle engine. No matter how much I despise the latter, the qualities of the former made the first game one of the most moving things I had played to that point. The sequel is equally compelling and the art and aesthetic of the world they have created is so gorgeous. I tend not to overly notice the music in play because I am drawn to the text, the decisions. Now I get to listen to it in isolation, after finishing my playthrough earlier this afternoon.

The first track is short and sad, a mournful horn over stately drums definitely lays out the tone. There is tension and threat layered into this piece all the same though... this is not a static world. In fact, it is breaking - as we are told by the title of track two. This actually has a vocal of sorts leading it in, but it quickly fades away to give a very quiet background tune. Clearly a case of music written to support something, because there are no strong themes to follow in the first couple of minutes. It develops a percussion-led rumble in the last third, but the most interesting line is the tight string part that adds melody, a strained tune, but one that I would like to have heard more of.

Not to give any spoilers away, but I found the sequel to disappoint in the final throws. It opened brilliantly and was properly epic, but I found myself disliking the progression of decisions as it tapered to a close in addition to hating the core tactical aspect. The reason for that hatred is a system that wants you to keep enemies alive, but badly hurt; it's counter-intuitive and feels too much like work to learn it. I find the disappointment resulting from what I felt was a weak closing of the game - compared to the first part, which ended on a very dramatic note - bleeding through into my appreciation of the score. That said the drama of A Path Through the Skies is captured really well. I think I did really poorly at this particular section of the game - choices made with the best intentions likely causing a worse outcome than I might have otherwise had. It was, though, my favourite passage of play in the whole 9 hour episode.  The horns... oh, the horns. I am a sucker for long, lonely notes and here we get that aplenty.

This soundtrack is stately in pace - which befits companionship for a game played through decisions or turns where you have all the time in the world to make your choices. However I find that slow, marching pace which makes it so brilliantly apt for the in play experience, is distancing me from it at I listen and I have already disabused myself of the notion of buying the soundtrack to part 1 for that reason. It's not a fault in the composition, but in the consumption; I just find that devoid the context of the scenes these tunes were meant to overlay, many of them offer little to the listener. They drip atmosphere and theme, knowing what they are meant to accompany, but those qualities have reduced impact in a "sit down and listen" scenario, at least for me. I might suggest this to a friend of mine though, as he is running an RPG campaign with very, very similar themes to those found in The Banner Saga.

There are a few musical themes recurring across these tracks, little snippets of tune that appear and reappear over different numbers. I like this - it makes the work feel tied together, it helps to build a context for the listener. This is also achieved through the tone, as you would expect, but its the little snatches of melody that emerge from behind the dramatic structures of drums and horns that offer me the most interest.

Some of these tunes are properly tense! Dragons in the Mud is a nerve-wracking piece that proffers doom. I find myself unable to place most of these tracks relative to the imagery from my playthrough, but this one must have been a particularly dramatic moment. A few of the tracks make use of chanting voices which lends them an eeriness to add to the dramatic crucible. This feature is often used as an introduction rather than as a feature running through a track. Essentially it provides a sort of scene framing, but I find that it focuses my ear then drops out and leaves me without the right sense of things... from a purely aural point of view, I would like the voices to persist a little longer, though I can certainly understand why that may not have worked with the original context of the tunes. Just as I type that, Children of the Fallen plays, which does have a vocal throughout. I have no idea what is being sung, but the tones of the voices involved are wonderfully rich.

Broken Shells harks back to other tracks, similar tunes arising in the top end, but overshadowed by environmental type effects in the piece... like nature is ruling man. This soundtrack is not an easy listen by any stretch. There is barely a light moment in any of the pieces, as befits the tragic edge to the tale it supports. The moments where the drums drop away and we are left with tunes that are identifiable melodies though... there is some nice work there. Those melodies are hardly joyful, but they are familiar, touchstones and breathers amidst the inevitable progression of the threat. In truth though, as a standalone work The Banner Saga 2 soundtrack suffers for this lack of lighter moments. It has less intense moments and these are welcome, but the overwhelmingly morose themes make enjoying the craft that went into this work difficult for me.

Two tracks to go. Threads Unweave is long by videogame soundtrack standards at over 6 minutes. It doesn't appear to use this length to give us a more considered and complete piece though as I find it to be made up of distinct shorter segments. I was, perhaps naïvely, expecting this to be a more "theme" like piece, but I don't get that feeling at all and find that it disappoints as a result. The last track delivers on this score though and I think shines a little light on what I wanted this soundtrack to be... music inspired by, and speaking to, the tone of the game, building on the atmosphere and setting. Soundtracking is not that though; had the soundtrack been what I realise now - too late - I was wanting then it almost certainly wouldn't have worked in its primary role.

Bellowhead Live - The Farewell Tour (disc 2) - Bellowhead

Track list:

1. Let Her Run
2. Old Dun Cow
3. Rosemary Lane
4. Moon Kittens
5. The March Past
6. Byker Hill
7. The Wife of Usher’s Well
8. Jack Lintel
9. Black Beetle Pies
10. Greenwood Side
11. Sloe Gin
12. London Town
13. New York Girls
14. Frogs Legs & Dragon’s Teeth

Running time: 63 minutes
Released: 2016

Part 2 of the long goodbye (part 1 here). I am apparently going to be traipsing 80 miles each way to see them one last time this week. Having failed to get tickets for the Oxford show, a friend secured a pair for the "bonus" date inserted in Southampton after the original tour was announced.

Disc 2 opens with Let Her Run, an energetic number with a heavy beat pounding to establish a rhythm. The pace though is enforced by the vibrancy of the vocal. Looking down the track list for this half of the Farewell Tour, there are a few track names I can't place because despite years of following Bellowhead religiously I have hardly ever listened to, or looked at the track lists for, any album since Matachin. As a result tracks like Old Dun Cow, Moon Kittens, Jack Lintel which haven't formed staples of the live shows I have seen in that time are... not strangers but not recognisible by name either. The first of those relies heavily on the brass to create a punchy structure. The tune becomes familiar in places, but whilst I like the bright blaring crescendos and I think this allows Jon Boden to grandstand nicely it is actually not really reflective of the tunes I most love Bellowhead for. When it devolves to folk-orchestra disco music it... well, it works and would be pretty easy to get caught up in live but at this recorded distance, not so much.

Rosemary Lane is Scarborough Fair by another name and another tune, as the band like to remind audiences. Unless that is I am mistaking that introduction for another song. Familiarity is one thing, reliability of memory is another. What saddens me today is that after Wednesday is gone I don't know when I will next see live music. For the last few years Bellowhead have been a much needed outlet there, a rare point of intersection of taste with friends of similar availability, and for an active group coming anywhere near to close to me.

Oh, Moon Kittens is familiar by sound, so it has been part of recent shows; I can't help but think James Bond theme, there are similarities in the primary melody and actually the bass-treble balance and separation is similar to at least some Bond film music, if not the main theme. I should be able to pull out the particular theme song (I suspect I have it on David Arnold's reimaginings album Shaken & Stirred) but... bah. Thus far this set has been of the more bombastic variety, but The March Past takes us into dance tune territory, and immediately rockets to the top of my appreciation list for the listen as a result. I don't recognise this at all, but hey... even as a fan of them in general I can say that many dance tune sets feel very very similar. The appeal lies not so much in the specific tunes, notes or time signatures, but the general energy, positivity and the happy and celebratory genesis of the concepts. 

I think I may have written before about my self consciousness and the inability to let myself go, even in a crowd doing just that. I should by rights detest tune sets for making me feel that acutely, but somehow despite the regret that engineers in me the geniality of the tunes themselves, the vital nature of the playing and everyone else enjoying them manages to leave me with a net positive. 

Byker Hill has a much rockier sound to it, not quite so much that you don't notice the folk roots, present in the lyrics but discernable within the maelstrom of sound from the arrangement too. I have never been a big exponent of this particular song but it far from the weakest track here. This disc includes probably Bellowhead's worst track, a horrid sounding number arising from experimentation with discordant sounds. Actually it surprises me quite a lot, speaking of discordant numbers, that Little Sally Racket does not appear on either disc. The song is so-so, but the sight of a man playing two saxophones at once was a regular highlight of live renditions whilst it remained a popular closer. 

I am not so actively or clearly picking up on a flatness of sound with this set compared with the first disc. I don't know why that is. It could be that I am overall less familiar with the specific tracks, or just in a more forgiving mood. Or the recording could genuinely be better. Who knows. To my surprise Jack Lintel is the type of Bellowhead tune I really like. It is an instrumental with a soaring melody as the dominant feature from Revival. I don't think I have ever seen this live, and as mentioned above I have not listened to the later albums much in other contexts either. I missed a trick there. I should skip the horror that is Black Beetle Pies - the outright worst thing they have done. Cacophony and screech. I think it constitutes an interesting experiment, and I applaud the thinking that got them to go there, i.e. not to be static, but to look for new things to do, but the result is simply not something I have ever enjoyed. Here the recording doesn't do the unpleasantness justice as it seems distant, moderated, softened somehow. I am left to wonder whether that is because the band performed it differently, whether the discomfort the tune can cause in an audience doesn't carry to the microphones or whether post-production (live recording or no) has cleaned it up some. It is by far the most palatable rendition of the song I have heard, but that is not really saying much. 

Greenwood Side leads us into what is an extended lead out. Sloe Gin was a live staple for too long, London Town is a crowd pleaser and the one-two of New York Girls and Frogs Legs & Dragon's Teeth has formed a standard encore for a couple of years. As a result I find myself feeling that I know what is coming and somewhat detached from the listening process, even as Greenwood Side is another track from Revival that I have less exposure to. I think my mood has changed as I feel impatient for the listen to end - an irritating, nagging feeling. I doubt that I will get another listen in for a week after this (and given it was 10 days before the couple I fit it this weekend) as I have a really busy time ahead. I could conceivably have plans every evening this week and all 3 days of the coming long weekend. In practice that means I am dumping out of something; probably the opportunity to play Bloodbowl in person  tomorrow. I used to play in an online league, which I may have mentioned in much earlier days of this project; almost 2 years going now.

Sloe Gin gets its traditional intro - Boden pointing out the repetitive nature of the trombone part in the lead in. Most of the preamble to tunes has been scrubbed from the recordings, there is no banter with the crowd. The difference here is that it happens over the start of the set. Actually I find myself enjoying it despite myself. This set of tunes had got really stale hearing it over and over for years but I find that having not been exposed to it for a while some of what made it a staple and a crowd favourite is restored. 

London Town is very flat on the recording, much of the tune is hard to hear, whilst the recording focuses on Boden's voice. It does capture him instructing the crowd (as if they need it) on how to participate... this is always one of the best numbers in a live show despite its longstanding nature (it comes from debut album Burlesque). I can't hear the crowd singalong at all on this recording which is a real shame. They should be loud and proud. They probably were. I suspect we'll hear them later in the song where it is left to them to sing but... that just means they've been excised in production. Yep. Sigh. There is one really long note in one particular chorus; it's always astounding how it is held, especially towards the end of a set... I can tell I am getting older as each time I saw them I could hold on slightly less amidst the crowd of voices. Yeah - I can sing along, but not deign to move; how does that work? If I knew I might have resolved it by now. New York Girls comes in and it does feel a little remote. I am heartened to hear what sounded like Paul Sartin getting the biggest hand as the attributions were done - though I suspect that was mostly because he was the last of them called out in that sequence. 

The closer is a pair of tunes that have a really complicated dance associated with them. Jump up and down as madly as possible. The list of things that astound me about the band includes the fact that they can, whilst playing, manage to do this more comprehensively than I, or many others in their audience. Despite my getting impatient with this listen in places, I find the hour has gone past really rather fast. Despite feeling remote, not really getting the full sound and generally feeling a bit useless today - it's spring, a little more warmth would be nice - the tunes have flown by. I am sure the same will be true on Wednesday when I am more enveloped, for the last time. I doubt that in most situations I would choose these live recordings over the studio albums - the flatter sounds and odd balancing are off just so - but this will go live in the car for convenience.

Farewell Bellowhead.

Alba - Markus Stockhausen and Florian Weber

Track list:

1. What Can I Do for You?
2. Mondtraum
3. Surfboard
4. Ishta
5. Emergenzen
6. Barycenter
7. Emilio
8. Possibility I
9. Befreiung
10. Resonances
11. Die Weise Zauberin
12. Synergy Melody
13. Better World
14. Zephir
15. Today

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2016

Another new purchase now. Popped up when browsing online shops, had an interesting title which made me look, and an interesting description that made me buy. First listen time.

When I wrote the intro for the last post, I figured that I would be finding more time to listen. Instead I have been short of it. This disc arrived more than a week back now and I have accumulated drafts from new purchases; time to start knocking them off.

This opens quietly, tensely, trembling. It is a soft and warm sound, but neither of the leads. They arrive later - a high pitched, colder, piano, and a Davis-like horn. I think this is a really strong start, a mournful loneliness in there belies the atmosphere in my living room with a muted TV showing pictures of an FA cup semifinal in the periphery of my vision, and the day being as bright now as it has been at any point. The music though is my immediate concern, and one that intrigues and pleases without dragging my mind into the lonely states that I hear. The second piece starts with a starkly clear, crisp piano tune. The trumpet layers in on top. These pieces have a certain soundtrack-like element to them in places, long distance shots, people moving in the distance, but disengaged from our viewpoint.

The name of this album appealed and drew me in as I was browsing, as Alba is an old name, a Gaelic name, for Scotland, as used in the Albion RPG which I am still occasionally running. I wonder if the two Germans behind this music knew that - about the name, I mean; clearly they know nothing and care nothing for my game! I don't think the themes here evoke imagery of the crags and lochs though. It seems an unlikely inspiration, though would fit with the sense of isolation the early tunes convey and perhaps with the snow-blown image on the cover. The third track blows the atmosphere though. A more staccato, more involved, piano tune here is energised, busy it a way that the first two were not. It reminds me of another modern jazz record that I have, but I don't remember if it is GoGo Penguin or Roller Trio. This tone is misplaced here, not fitting given the slower and more considered sounds before and, now, afterwards. Surfboard feels like it has been dropped in from another album, without comment or particular thought - an impression that was there at the beginning of the piece, but cemented by Ishta's return to the initial feel.

I really like the slow, lonely sounds here. I wonder though whether they would still appeal if this wasn't new to me. I think so. Whilst I don't see myself coming back to this over and over as I do with my favourite piano jazz (two albums from Esbjörn Svensson Trio in particular - Seven Days of Falling and Tuesday Wonderland), in the right moods I could see myself looking out time to listen to this again. There is a sedate pacing to the themes here, even when the melody is busy and full of notes. We seem to rely more heavily on the piano than on the horn here, which makes sense... the keys provide more structure, the brass injects presence. When it appears the tunes change noticeably, it dominates.

Barycenter is an interlude - a frenetic piano tune for a minute. It again breaks the tone set by what came before, and what follows. A second occurrence of this is suggestive that the break is intentional, but I am struggling to see what it adds to inject these incongruous numbers. Emilio returns us to a slower and more thoughtful piece and is immediately more pleasant for that. I was expecting Possibility I to be another fish out of water based on the name but whilst it is short it doesn't break the feel of the overall piece so much, and nor does Befreiung despite having a faster pace, a warmer feel and sunnier outlook. This still oozes the relaxed air, though the key part has more urgency and the trumpet plays more positively.

The brighter tone is temporary though as the Resonances are sparse. This time it is the trumpet left to its own devices, plotting its lonely course through a sea of silence. Two minutes fly by, and for the first time I am feeling the obligatory 40s LA vibe that all jazz of a certain type seems to evoke, those dark overhead pans from black and white movies, sleazy joints and private dicks. The feel continues into the following tune, dissipates part way through as the music returns to the themes and feel that have dominated the majority of this disc, then surprises me by re-emerging again. I rather like that as I was caught unawares by the subtle tonic shifts. This is definitely a slow ablum; in that, it feels like a little bit of an antidote to the modern world. For the most part though it does not sound dated or out of place.

I prefer the slower pieces, the really sedate ones. There is a depth to the sound that belies the sparse arrangement as the interplay between our primary actors fills the stage masterfully. Some of the themes are empty enough that it allows my mind to wander along with my eye, and I suspect I am missing some finer points, but the best thing I am finding in these pieces is a sense of peace. The playing still calls to mind Miles Davis more than I was expecting going in. I would naturally have expected a bent towards a more European or Nordic sound. Meanwhile the piano reminds me of latter-day Herbie Hancock, as this is not really piano-led jazz in the same way as Svensson's was. Here the magic is all in the combination, the whole, and the spaces they leave for each other, which brings me back to the Davis reference. It may not be the horn playing itself, it could be the construction of the pieces as a whole harking back to specific moments, likely from Kind of Blue. For shame I can't give a clear reference to back that up, alas.

And just like that I am approaching the end of this one. The hour has zipped by faster than I was expecting and despite the often sedate pacing it hasn't dragged once. There were low points - particularly that first injection of pace and energy which really wasn't needed - but overall I was very impressed and taken with both the individual pieces and the general theme that the album shot for. The final short number finishes very abruptly (if something so stately in pace can be abrupt), which is a little jarring. Still nothing like as jarring as the couple of tracks that broke ranks on pace and tone, though. I am not going to ditch them offhand - first listen and all - but may do in future.

Bellowhead Live - The Farewell Tour (disc 1) - Bellowhead

Track list:

1. Roll Alabama
2. 10,000 Miles Away
3. Lillibulero
4. Betsy Baker
5. If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go
6. Jordan
7. Haul Away
8. Captain Wedderburn
9. What’s the Life of a Man?
10. Let Union Be
11. Whiskey Is the Life of Man
12. Fine Sally
13. Gosport Nancy
14. Parson’s Farewell
15. Roll the Woodpile Down

Running time: 62 minutes
Released: 2016

I should not really have bought this. I don't really need more versions of these tunes, and have seen all of them played live from time to time. However I figured that buying it would be convenient for the car - stuck as I am in the age of physical media. However I don't have the discs yet - so I have to deconstruct the single large track list from the download. It would have been a 2 hour listen without breaking it up and, much as I love them... finding that kind of time for a listen is simply not going to happen.

I have mentioned Bellowhead in several other posts, but not (quite) reached the first of their studio albums in my alphabetical run through yet. It's literally the next but one at time of composition... and there's a second due before B is done. This, then, jumps the queue - what with the title being something I'd have passed a while back. It also makes the next couple of weeks a bit folk packed.

We start with Roll Alabama, one off Revival. Its possibly one of my favoured songs from their late life as it espouses the themes that I most enjoy in Bellowhead songs. They can get quite raucous at times but I have always had a penchant for the tunes with a more melodic touch, soaring fiddles crafting a comfortable tune space and the other parts of this eleven-piece construction fitting within. As much as I love Bellowhead, I really had to force myself to sit here and listen tonight. I left Sunday on the basis that I had quiet evenings Monday and Wednesday to find the time for two. I missed Monday too, wrong headspace, and tonight my inclination is to curl up and piss away my time rather than apply it. Not sure why, just feeling listless. I am also finding it hard to find much to write here for some reason, actively steering away from discussing the tunes, and generally failing to produce. Maybe this is a fools errand.

Lillibulero is a tune I never really got on with, too much of the song consisting of repeating some iteration of the title loudly. It has some more accessible elements too but it is one of the blander songs for the nonsense chorus. I think I am also impatient for the next tune; Betsy Baker is one of those songs I fell in love with the first time I heard it and it employs Paul Sartin and his oboe is glorious fashion. The song itself is a little blah, but the melody behind the chorus is to die for, a lushly arranged effort with a floating tune and a strong body of sound supporting it. This recording doesn't do it justice though - the levels seem to take away from that oboe part which is where my ear is normally drawn. The whole song sounds very different actually - from both the album version on Broadside and from the umpteen times I have seen it live. It feels a little clipped and flat. The wonderful melody is still there but somehow the sound doesn't blossom in the same way it does if you are in the audience in person. I can't remember how many times I have seen these guys play but for the last few years they have, alas, been the only gigs I have got to - I don't have the right friends or the right tastes to get to see much; I went through a phase of going to things on my own a few years back, but it's not the same as with company, and certainly rules out longer journeys. I am sad about the split of the band - a couple of years after John Spiers and Jon Boden stopped touring as a duo too. It means still fewer gig opportunities, and removes a convenient method (and excuse) for keeping up with an old friend who I have only seen at gigs for a while now.

If You Will Not Have Me, You May Let Me Go is a spiky little jaunt, dance tunes being a large part of the repertoire. It makes me want to hop about like a madman, but I am both too uncoordinated and far too self aware to ever really let myself go there, even in a horde of folks doing the same thing. I always end up feeling quite alone in crowds for this reason. My connection with whatever thing the crowd is there for seems to manifest in a very different way to the norm. I find this quite sad, but even several years of loud and energetic folk gigs haven't stamped that feeling out of me. Jordan goes all the way back to Burlesque, which was my entry point to the band. I liked folk, I liked jazz - they were fusing them supposedly (or rather adding aspects of the latter to the former, with a horn section). I was hooked.

Haul Away is a staple of the live show, three tunes in one. The opening always sends shivers down my spine. Some of the songs they played a lot got old (Sloe Gin really got on my wick by the time they stopped doing it live) but this one is always a crowning moment, with a generous sing-along in the middle of two dance tunes. The first builds tension, released by the vocal, the second leads us out merrily. Here, too, the recording seems flat; I'm not sure if the acoustics were not great on the night, the post production is highlighting the "wrong" bits for my taste or what but there is a detachment, and a monotone to it. I guess I'm so used to being in an audience absorbing this that colours my perceptions, but I don't remember other versions of the tune being so lifeless. And it is not that the performance on the night was lifeless - I can hear them going for it as ever; I think it has to be in the recording, and the specific emphasis that was captured for this release.

Yeah, there's something flat here alright. Even on the "quiet" number of Captain Wedderburn, the tuneful chorus (the only bit of this song I really like) comes across poorly despite the absence of other sounds to compete with. The song also manages to suck out the rhythm I had got into with its more stately pace, and I feel disconnected from my activity once more. However this next tune is interesting. I don't recognise it by sound or by title... I don't think I've seen them play What's the Life of a Man? and clearly I have not listened to Broadside very much, for this comes from there. Of course, Bellowhead were never really about the albums. As much as I enjoyed Burlesque and the follow-up Matachin, the three that followed never saw much play as record does not match up to live. That is true in the case of most bands, but doubly so here. I'm in danger of writing the Broadside listen up here before I get to that, but that album in particular had a contrast between some very nice tunes (Betsy Baker) and really obnoxious discord (Black Beetle Pies) and so didn't warrant much listening in album form.

Let Union Be is a crowd participation number at live shows. I can still use the present tense as there are a handful more dates before they crown their career in Oxford next month... tickets were impossible to grab for that, alas. There was no preamble on this recording and no obvious sound from the audience on the first chorus, again leaving the impression that this recording is a little flat. I do hope the audience weren't tuned out in post production or asked not to sing along on the night... they are clearly audible in applause at the end of the song so I guess it was the latter.

I am finding this all a little surreal, it's like an out of body experience somehow. Vagary of recording or whatever other cause, the sense of detachment I have from the sound, amplified by the lack of depth conveyed on the tunes and my familiarity with most of the numbers in live performance... I feel like I am reliving a memory that I never had. I feel like I am watching my own view on TV. I feel... isolated. The discs arrived today; as well as 2 CDs the package offers a DVD and a booklet of photos of them performing from odd angles. It's quite a nice offering and I am not sorry I picked it up despite my growing ambivalence about the particular realisation of this recording.

In contrast to the middle part of the disc, which was packed with longer tunes, the songs are now flying by. Only a couple left, a tune then the big single. I have always had a soft spot for the dance tunes, because at their best they are all about melody. A strong theme and various movements around that offering support. They swell and subside in really nice and easy to relate to patterns, and you can let your ear latch on to the central strand and follow it to its conclusion. I find them great for stopping my head running away with other thoughts and almost inevitably end up smiling as they crescendo. Disc 1 ends with Roll the Woodpile Down, which again has a lovely melody from Sartin's reed. When those tones fly out over a string base I love Bellowhead more than ever. I missed that this was a huge hit because I don't listen to the radio, but seeing crowds lap it up over the past 4 years its hard to deny the appeal. I doubt that most people are drawn by the particular element that grabs me, but that's fine. I suspect I might be the odd one thinking the best thing in a folk arrangement is woodwind, but there we go. It gives a very definite end. In my experience it is rarely the tune to end on - disc two closes more as I would expect though.

So, a little flat compared to being there in person, but even flat Bellowhead are a treat greater than many. For another month or so until there is only this, and memory, to fall back on.