All That Must Be - George Fitzgerald

Track list:

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

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All Melody - Nils Frahm

Track list:

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

Running time: 73 minutes
Released: 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alela Diane & Wild Divine - Alela Diane

Track list:

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

Running time: 38 minutes
Released: 2011

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

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

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

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

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

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

This album is good at feeding that imagination.

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

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

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.

Alterum - Julie Fowlis

Track list:
   
1. A Phiuthrag 's a Phiuthar
2. Camariñas
3. Fear a' Bhrochain / Dòmhnall Binn
4. Dh'èirich Mi Moch, b' Fheàrr Nach Do Dh'èirich
5. Go Your Way
6. Dh'èirich Mi Moch Madainn Cheòthar
7. Windward Away
8. Thèid Mi Do Loch Àlainn
9. Òran an Ròin
10. An Aghaidh Fàilte Na Mòr-Thìr
11. Cearcall Mun Ghealaich

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2017

New release time. First listen. All the usual caveats.

I wrote that line a long time back, when this dropped through my door and got elevated to next in line. As seems to be customary these days, I have to preface this post with excuses for not having been productive on the project front - a combination of illness, tiredness, a busy life and, if I am honest, prioritizing other things over listens. I'm going to try to squeeze in two this Thanksgiving... whilst I am in the UK I am taking these 2 days as holiday as all my US colleagues are out and I had days left to take this year.

Right, that done, on to it.

Julie Fowlis' voice is charming though I don't understand a word of her songs, the Scots Gaelic impenetrable to my ear. It comes across as a lyrical language, but then that could just be the context. After all, putting words to song is going to exhibit the more lyrical aspects of a language more often than not. The first tune is a gentle strummed core, backing strings and a lilting, swaying rhythm with natural swells and long held notes. Entirely pleasant, but nothing to get excited about.

I am not used to this - my back is complaining about my posture sat up and forward at the keys, hunched over slightly. Another little challenge I guess. The music on is now more stripped back, the lush backing of the swells from the opening number replaced with a more lonely string line. I found the first track more engaging somehow... more soothing. Here the duet worked but also it rather obscured Fowlis' tones, and I buy her music for two things: 

1. Upbeat folk tunes
2. Her wonderful voice

Thankfully both are in evidence on the third track, which has the tone and tempo of a dance tune and a clearly sung main vocal. There is sunshine through broken clouds in these sounds, images of mountains and islands and a cool but lovely summers evening's light. Yes, tunes like this are stereotypical, but they are so for a reason. Not all stereotypes are bad, and most are rooted in some level of reality - if exaggerated for effect. The jigs, reels, tunes and songs of the isles are a pretty well defined body of work, and to me, a soft southerner working in tech, with no aptitude for country living but an admiration for it (I spend many a Sunday evening with Countryfile, for some reason!), they paint an idyllic (and unrealistic) picture of the beauty of that kind of existence. 

Ah, now we get a number in English and whilst the singer's voice is clearly the same, some of the magic is lost. Yes, it's still a fantastic voice, warm and inviting, but the mystery of the foreign tongue is gone, and I find that it takes a little away from the experience. Why should that be? Well, I guess it's a form of "othering" the songs, but whereas that is usually used in a negative light, here the other is part of what appeals. A sense that this is not my music or heritage, but one I am lucky enough to have been exposed to. I dunno. I am so out of practice with these posts that I suspect the flow of thoughts that I find myself with now is 99% crap and 1% flim-flam. 

So far so good though. A couple of ups and downs but the disc is pretty much what I would have expected, what I wanted from it. I'd like a couple more of the pacier tunes where Fowlis is able to convey an impish sense of fun and joy but I suspect that is just me looking back to the point when I first came across her work with a sense of nostalgia and ossification. I have definitely noticed myself being less enchanted by new things of late, which is a saddening thought. Still, despite that I have still bought more than I have made posts in the last quarter so it's not all bad.

Overall the tone of this album seems to be more sombre, which is a bit of a disappointment, not because it isn't good, but because right now I could do with a bit of a lift. And as I typed that sentence the song that was playing turned from slow, mournful tones to quick, lively ones with a very light vocal. Doubt erased. Good stuff. 

The final track is another slow number but it has a couple of really nice touches. First the spoken (English) intro, and then the harmony between two female voices. A poem set to music to close us out. Overall, yes this is a question of more of the same. No, that is not (always) a bad thing. Change and evolution are welcome developments, but sometimes... Sometimes you want something comfortable and familiar - even whilst it is "othered".

Afterglow - Jon Boden

Track list:

1. Moths in the Gas Light
2. Afterglow
3. Bee Sting
4. Wrong Side of Town
5. Fires of Midnight
6. All the Stars are Coming Out Tonight
7. Dancing in the Ruin
8. Burning Streets
9. Yellow Lights
10. Aubade

Running time: 44 minutes
Released: 2017

New release time. Jon Boden's first solo release after the end of Bellowhead is a return to the apocalyptic visions of his previous effort, Songs From the Floodplain, which I loved. I am catching his tour next month (alas not at a full band show) but picked this based on a prompt from the mailing list. This is a first listen so not likely to represent a final opinion.

The first surprise is the lushness of the sound, it's filled in. The vocal doesn't necessarily have the space it needs to create the picture the album sleeve suggests, and the wind instruments in the bridge feel out of place. It is not immediately a winner, then, but I suspect it might grow on me.

Sunday afternoon, this my penultimate thing to do before the weekend (and my week off) is out. The other is a stack of ironing. Joy. It's been a productive week, but I don't really feel like I've had a break because of that. It's damned if you do, damned if you don't, because if I'd taken the full stop I needed then I'd have still been in a terrific mess and feeling bad about not having done anything. Oh well; tomorrow morning is sorting through a week's worth of unanswered mail and figuring out what changed whilst I was out. In light of that I could do with something a bit more immediately positive or energetic than this. Jon Boden is a fantastic performer, very charismatic on stage, but so far that charisma is lacking in the recording.  The title track is pedestrian, dull rhythm leading to a staid overall effect. I hope this is not representative.

The drudgery is brightened a bit by the light guitar work on Bee Sting, but there is still no sense of pace or rhythm in the piece, even when the drums come to the fore, it's more emphasising the stop of the flow rather than providing positive impetus. Sure, not everything needs to be quick, pacy, intense, but the sell on this album is meant to to be big screen, not back room. It isn't working on that score. The imagery not supported by the sound; the concept not realised as well as it was before.

Oh, this is a richer sound. Space is occupied, arrangements more intricate, Bellowhead band mates invited to play a part in building a busier tapestry, but that extra "stuff" is not employed as effectively as it could be. The sense of identity projected by Afterglow is more after-party... come down, soft and easy. I am not picking out the lyrics clearly whilst I am tapping away here, but I don't get the sense of a vivid and lively world from these tracks.  It feels all very... safe?

All the Stars are Coming Out Tonight injects a bit more of a rhythm but whilst this is a crescendo of sorts, it manifests with all the ambition of background noise. The tune is staid, predictable. So whilst we gain a bit of urgency and, towards the end of the track, some more distinctive delivery from Boden's vocal, that is in service to an uninspiring song.

I am better disposed to Dancing in the Ruin, but... from my point of view the same concept was carried off with more gravitas on Songs from the Floodplain's Dancing in the Factory, where the sense of ruin and life in a world amongst the ruins was conveyed far more effectively. So what appears to be the strongest song thus far is weaker than a previous offering. This tune then devolves into an out-of-place instrumental outro.

I might just be in the wrong mood for this. Burning Streets brings a sense of urgency and stridency to the party but I bounce off the arrangement pretty hard. This is the first time that the apocalyptic vision really feels like it belongs, but the song itself leaves me cold. This is followed by some tension... a slow, dangerous tension, rather than a knife-edge or action-pumping tension. Yellow Lights has the most compelling marriage of theme and execution on the album. I wish this was saying more than it is. Having said that, it is not a particularly enjoyable song musically speaking. The vocal is great, and the arrangement does support it, but it doesn't draw you in. It is more keeping you at arms' length, wary. Apt, perhaps, but not the best of selling points. That said, the track's 7 minutes slide by easily enough.

Suddenly we reach the end. Aubade has a more immediate relationship with the folk roots and past work of the performer, or so it seems to me. This track is approachable, familiar, and whilst not the strongest composition Jon Boden will ever pen it remembers to a) make his voice the star and b) deliver on basic principles. It ends up as possibly my favourite track on the album because it remembers to cover the key points first, though the closing with birdsong is a little... off. Overall I find myself very disappointed. The disappointment is keen, because I so loved his Floodplain dystopia, and I had high hopes for another similar vision. I will give it more of a chance to grow on me - a chance albums from other performers whose other work I admired less may not get - but I can't see this becoming a favourite.

Art in the Age of Automation - Portico Quartet

Track list:

1. Endless
2. Objects to Place in a Tomb
3. Rushing
4. Art in the Age of Automation
5. S/20005S
6. A Luminous Beam
7. Beyond Dialogue
8. RGB
9. Current History
10. Mercury Eyes
11. Lines Glow

Running time: 50 minutes
Released: 2017

A new purchase now. I was idly casting an eye over what had come out recently when I spotted this I bought Portico Quartet's Mercury nominated debut, Knee Deep in the North Sea at the time of its nomination, thought it interesting but not outstanding and barely thought of it since. That was about 10 years back I think. I spotted this, recognised the name and then got surprised by the write up in a way that made me want to buy this. How good or bad was my decision? Time to find out.

The opening reminds me of LCD Soundsystem (I have that one album, y'know... Sound of Silver, but tired of it fast). That sense quickly dissipates though as the jazzier elements come in. The resonant sounds I remember from my other Portico album are here, but supported by a lusher construction. Layers of percussion, a solid wall of background swell and strings above. I'm quite taken with Endless as an opening track. Today was originally planned for gardening, but a wet week and uninspiring skies put paid to that early. I fill my afternoon with this instead, wimping out of biking in the cold. If the rest of the disc follows this lead, it will be a worthwhile choice.

There is a soundtrack-like quality to the early sounds... TV more than film perhaps, an instrumental where the top end could be suppressed to give a swirling background suitable for many a scene. It feels a tiny bit soulless, actually in places. Cold, lonely and distant despite that constant movement. Cold may be appropriate for grave goods though, so there is that. I am reminded a little of the Cinematic Orchestra, but without the genius use of space and emptiness to give tracks more warmth. As that track ends and we rush forwards to the next the repeated piano chords that gave me the LCD vibe are back, and left to go on longer. Too long, really.

The track gets better when that pattern is broken - or at least harnessed better, less obviously - but it is flat. Again it has the air of a soundtrack - music to accompany something else, not music to drag you in. A little over half way through there is a major shift in direction; I like that, and yet it does not really address my issues with the track. It remains at arms' length, nice enough background but no centre, no heart, no soul. The trumpet which provides the main narrative is decent, but it provides a melancholic lead not really supported by the fast tempo of the drums... and this sort of sad horn against a background of electronics is done better by others. I hope that there are tracks here which expose more warmth and draw. The first impression was bad, that was reformed quickly, but as it settles down into its stride, so far I am finding it a little empty.

The title track has more to it. Deeper, rounder sounds. And a less obvious percussion. They can do it, but it seems they don't always manage to.

I can't quite shake the feeling that I have heard this before... the best moments are reminiscent of the Cinematics, or Molvær, etc. It's a feeling that keeps me from really engaging with the album, even whilst quietly appreciating certain elements. The best tracks seem to be the ones where they employ the deep resonant tones... I can't for the life of me remember the name of the instrument, but I seem to recall that it was one of their gimmicks. This works well for me, perhaps because it harks back to their debut and matches expectation, but I think mostly because that timbre of sound appeals strongly on what is a very autumnal day. It is fair to say I am not relishing the onset of fall and winter, inevitable though they are, I prefer the lighter and warmer months.

There are moments here, though. For all that negativity above, I find the opening 90 seconds or so of RGB a joy. The track goes a little off the rails thereafter - a little bit flighty, all trills in the top end - but after a solid opening that had me nodding appreciably. This tune - those high notes aside - seems to fall just on the right side of background soundtrack vs. engagement. Those around it fall on the other side of that imaginary fence. Pleasant enough sounds but with a blandness to them. I am hearing nice rhythms, I rather like the background soundscapes but those things alone don't necessarily make something good to listen to. The main themes are just a little too absent, lines are there but end up subservient to structural elements rather than being supported by them.

One to go now and it opens brightly, its electronics painting a different, livelier tone. They are soon faded down - not out - and moved behind the percussion as the main element of the piece. The melody doesn't arrive for over a minute, and when it does the horn is a little lost in the forest of beats. Oh, you can hear it cleanly enough, but again it is not the star, not framed and promoted in the way that more practiced hands manage. That may be a deliberate choice on the part of the group (who am I to say?) but it does not really work for me. The rhythm dominates too much. It isn't that wonderful, but it is sharp and punches firmly through the other sounds.

Overall then... an album with a few high points, but primarily a sea of serviceable background tracks. It's a real shame that they don't manage to do just a little more, focus just a little bit differently on one or two of these tunes and they could become really nice pieces. My final impression though is of a largely empty shell or a house without furnishings. The structure was all in place, but the key elements that would make the house a home were absent.

All Hail West Texas (Remastered) - The Mountain Goats

Track List:

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

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2002

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

All the Records on the Radio are Shite - Ballboy

Track list:

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

Running time: 11 minutes
Released: 2002

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

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

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

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