Contact Note - Jon Hopkins

Track list:

1. Circle
2. Second Sense
3. Contact Note
4. Searchlight
5. Symmetry
6. 100
7. Glasstop
8. Sleepwalker
9. Reprise
10. Nightjar
11. Black and Red
12. Luna Moth

Running time: 61 minutes
Released: 2004

OK, so I'm actually excited to give this one a listen. I don't think I've ever really given much time to Contact Note before, but I love Jon Hopkins' work (and am annoyed that my pre-order of the physical release of Singularity hasn't shown up yet; Amazon seem to be losing the plot slightly of late). My challenge to myself is to do this on a weeknight; did I?

Incidentally, I love the cover of this one. The lighting, the colours and the image all. That said, given the choice of subject I do wonder why the album wasn't named after the final track.

I did not manage to make this midweek in the end, and I found myself putting in two inserts before it after a couple of new purchases, but it feels like it could be a good album to round off a sunny weekend. Circle has a simple rhythmic loop that is easy to get sucked into whilst Hopkins weaves patterns over it. It feels optimistic, but it loses its way a bit when the structure that did so much to bring me in to the track is swapped out for another, leaving the latter part of the track feeling stale and distant. Its a perfect example of my fickleness I guess; it wasn't a seismic shift or anything, but it was enough for it to lose me.

I am rather disappointed by the opening to Second Sense too... not only do I not get on with the vocal insertions but it is a little too rhythm-led this time, and those rhythms can't sustain much on their own. It gets better when there's more melody added, or tuned up perhaps.

I discovered Jon Hopkins not through electronica, but through his production of low-fi Scottish indie peeps. Now Hopkins is well known for his collaboration with King Creosote, but it was his work on And the Racket They Made (from Bombshell) that really resonated with me, some years before Diamond Mine appeared. There it was his use of space more than anything else, the sparseness, the knowledge of when to dial back and support. I hear the roots of that sparseness here. Sure, there is always something going on, but there are passages when one element or other drops out or reduces to a low level that make you consider what was there, or what might be there.

I like, too, that Hopkins can take you on a journey, and may be specifically looking to do so if I recall discussion of a later work, Immunity, correctly. There it applied to the whole album, mirroring the structure of a night out, here I apply that more at the single track level.

I found this last night, too; putting thoughts to words to describe music dominated by electronic elements is surprisingly hard. Describing some of the sounds defies words, and you can't fall back on mentioning the instrument part either, because there's nothing there to identify in the same way that more... organic(?) music has. Don't get me wrong, I am not claiming for a second that non-electronic music has any primacy of place or anything like that, just suggesting that it is probably easier to describe.

There are some very different sounds on this disc, tonally I mean. 100 comes across bright and radio-friendly, almost "pop-y" which is a bit of a tonal jump. It's a good one though, breathing a life into the middle of the disc with its bold central theme. I am surprised to find I've only listened to it 6 times before as it is immediately familiar, the kind of track that could easily become an earworm. Tomorrow, as well as work I am expecting a delivery of English wine (it's getting better, they say...) and a man coming to fix my fence. It'll be nice to gain back a feeling of space in my back garden, especially given the fantastic bright, dry May we seem to have had this year. If I could bottle a day like today and carry it with me... warm but not too warm, bright, blue, full of life.

Enough whimsy. Except that the music seems to have gone that way, too... all plinky strings and xylophones.

Personally, I can't help but feel Hopkins is at his best when understated and downtempo. That isn't to say that he can't make some great tunes with more life in, but there are plenty of people who do that really well. Crafting truly engaging tracks that suit less full on moods and moments takes effort. It's easy to get tone in the right ballpark, but few manage to elevate that into something truly enjoyable in the way Jon Hopkins does. I know it's not on this disc, but I remember when I got Immunity and first heard the title track... I was absorbed, smitten. It probably helped that it includes a re-imagining of a King Creosote tune, again, and that it took me far too long to pin down what, so I had to listen to it over and over to confirm that it wasn't just similar to, but actually was the main lyric from Carbon Dating Agent (which I always loved, but since has become one of my all time favourite tracks).

I seem to be writing about anything except what I am hearing, but this has always been about where my mind goes from the music that I input as much as (or more than) about recording facts about what I hear.

There is a symmetry of sorts to this album, the first three and last three tracks have similar but reversed patterns of length, and as Nightjar begins it gives the impression that this will take the listener on a journey in the way that Contact Note did. I hope so, anyway because as it starts it is a little caught in between. Not super-sparse and considered, but not really enough going on to draw interest. On cue it opens up into a really nice simple piano, which in turn fades into more rhythm. It's not a high tempo journey, but it's going to some varied places.

Black and Red stands out as a complete oddity, blindsiding me with a load of found sound, a darker tone and not nearly as much coherence as I have come to expect from this artist to go with the absence of traditional tune, rhythm and structure. There must be a story behind this track - which ends with perhaps the most chilled sound of all of them - because it's so utterly out of place in other respects.

By ending as it does Black and Red dovetails nicely into the final track, a dreamy and ethereal number that I might appreciate more in another mood, or on another day. And that is all I could think of to write in those final 5 minutes... it must be time to start thinking about sleep and the week to come.

Concubine Rice - Lone Pigeon

Track list:

1. Dad's Blue Danube / Concubine Rice / Your Tie Perhaps?
2. King Creosote's Wineglass Symphony / Sally Bradwell
3. The Road Up To Harlow Square / Been So Long
4. Heaven Come Down / Ancient Hubbard Cow Of Bubbletoop
5. Beatmix Chocbar Rap / Victoria
6. Waterfall / Boats
7. Old Mr. Muncherman / Endless Ballad Of A Riccoco Moon
8. Melonbeard / Lay Me Down / Stars Won't Sleep
9. Lonely Vagabond
10. Oh Catherine
11. Bona Fide World / Johnny & Jodie / Long Way Down
12. The Rainking / Don't Look Back
13. Concubine Rice Reprise / I Am the Secret Unknown
14. I Am the Secret Unknown
15. Untitled

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2002

So I think this will be an odd one. Lone Pigeon, aka Gordon Anderson, one of three musical brothers in my library, the others recording as Pip Dylan and my perennial favourite boy, King Creosote.

This is a solo work, though Anderson also recorded with The Beta Band and The Aliens, and I seem to recall it being weirder than his band-based work. There also seems to be no consensus on the proper track list for this album, so I've gone with what matches the titles in my player.

I rather like the simple rhythm that we start with, even if the tinny synth keys aren't exactly musical in nature. Anderson's voice is deep here, and the lyrics are definitely odd, but at the same time there is a simple charm to it all. Is that a recording of an elephant trumpeting?

This morning I have already been thwarted by bad luck once, discovering a slow puncture on the rear wheel of my bike meant I couldn't get out for some exercise before the day got too hot; I lack the necessary bits and pieces for repair so my pathetic attempts at healthy living is stymied again for now. I can well believe that the wineglass symphony is actually what it says on the tin, because the actual sound is a horrible din in places. Thankfully it gives way to more of a tune, and some repeated Beta Band limits. Recycled material is something I see a lot with Lone Pigeon - As an example, Boats crops up here as part of track 6, has it's own place on Schoozzzmmii, and then made it on to Luna by The Aliens too.

This whole album cuts about all over the place, splicing vignettes together into longer tracks. It gives it a very tumbledown air, very random. In places this manifests as some frankly appalling sounds, in others its just slightly odd, and then here and there you get lovely little loops, melodies or vocal lines cutting in and out. Honestly, just from the 4 and a half tracks that have played by now, I half feel I should just cut the lot. But only half. The other half of me loves the oddity, enjoys the arbitrary nature, and finds real beauty hidden in those nicer, more melodic moments.

I'm pretty sure my track list is wrong. Track 6 seems to have the Ancient Hubbard Cow of Bubbletoop at the start. You would have thought in this day and age it would be easy to get a definitive listing but... no. The rest of 6 sounds like it should be Beatmix Chocbar Rap, but no list I see anywhere fuses those two half-tracks together. I think this must be deliberate. Even pausing and going to look for the physical disc and liner notes really doesn't help clear anything up because the presentation there doesn't click with the 15 tracks it ripped to. I don't like the inaccuracy, but at the same time I'm damned if I can be arsed to sort through this any further.

There's a really nice guitar part at the start of what I have as track 7. It doesn't last long before we get into a really low-fi, echoing recording all sharp sounds and over-sustained vocals obscured by fuzz. Completely random, and still no Boats.

Of course.

The very next thing that plays is Boats. At the start of track 8. Only the opening hook though, then we're on to something else.

By this point the constant switcheroo is getting tiring. The interesting bits and lovely melodies are fewer in number than the meandering dross. I have been reluctant to mention it to this point, as someone who has been through (minor) depressive episodes in the past, but I find it hard to escape the thought that this disc might reflect Gordon Anderson's struggles with the mental illness that caused him to drop out of the Betas just as they made their name. The lack of cohesion in particular gives me that impression. Between the muddled track presentation, the skipping between styles, bits of atonal or incidental recordings and frankly nonsense lyrics its a hard one to escape.

Those nice moments are now so rare, and presented in such chaotic context that I'm considering junking the lot. Lonely Vagabond has a nicer touch to it, but of course the player things I'm on Oh Catherine now; only 1 tune out by this point, but still. It's frustrating me enough that I'm seriously considering junking the listen here, and there's still 20 minutes to go, including a 9 minute epic.

Somewhere along the way I have tuned out and got distracted by other things. It seems that might be a sensible thing, but it is contrary to the intent of these listens. I'm really rather disappointed by this. I knew this disc was weird but I hadn't realised just how poor most of it actually is. That said, if it was an endeavour that got Gordon Anderson through tough times and poor mental health then for all I dislike it I am happy that it exists.

I am the Unknown foreshadows the Aliens some, that rockier sound points towards things like I am the Robot Man, and The Happy Song... or rather to itself. This appeared on Astronomy for Dogs as well. The clashing guitars are actually a really welcome change from all that went before but not enough for me to save anything from this hot mess of an album.

Brilliant Light - Danny and the Champions of the World

Track list:

1. Waiting for the Right Time
2. Bring Me to My Knees
3. It Hit Me
4. You'll Remember Me
5. Swift Street
6. Consider Me
7. Coley Point
8. It's Just a Game (That We Were Playing)
9. Never in the Moment
10. Gotta Get Things Right in My Life
11. Waiting for the Wheels to Come Off
12. Don't Walk Away
13. Hey Don't Lose Your Nerve
14. Everything We Need
15. Let the Water Wash over You (Don't You Know)
16. Long Distance Tears
17. The Circus Made the Town
18. Flying by the Seat of Our Pants

Running time: 78 minutes
Released: 2017

I have a love-hate relationship with Danny and the Champions of the World. Well, more like love-ambivalent really. Love, because I found their eponymous first record to be the best of its year, ambivalence because everything that has followed has not made that level. More than that it veered in a different direction, one that gelled less with me. I vacillated a little over whether to pick this one up, then, but I was in a spend to feel better mood and ended up adding it to another order (one which brought me the excellent Every Valley by Public Service Broadcasting), so here I am. Not heard this yet, so first impressions ahoy.

The opening guitar riffs are the latter-day Champs, rather than the iteration I fell in love with a decade or so ago. It's safe indie rock. Not bad, but not an exciting start from my viewpoint. I like the vocal - Danny's gravelly voice, and the interplay with the backing both work quite nicely, even if the song itself becomes repetitive, the title incanted again and again.

Insert usual excuse here for lack of posts. Formulae need to be stuck to!

I think my "problem" with the evolution of Danny and the Champions of the World is that the sound has become less distinct, it has less of a unique selling point than that debut. That was rough and ready, folksy and raw... it played directly to my tastes and sounded different, engaging. This rockier sound... it could be any number of bands. It doesn't have the big sky Americana feel of Grand Drive, not that back to basics sound of the first Champions disc. Both of those sounds resonated more with me. There are hints of Danny George Wilson's musical roots here, but they feel marginalised, made small elements in a less distinctive overall sound.

Having just said that, more individuality has been injected in It Hit Me. Weird comparison of the day, but this has a tinge of Madness in the horns, a frisson of lounge in the keys, and a more open sound. This is less rock song and more crooner ballad, but with an arrangement that does more than make you lazy. Maybe I am just calibrating myself to this... it seems to be growing on me. I have been putting this post off for length, dodging it by way of excuses about tiredness, poor sleep and work stress. When I started this project - 3 years ago now! - I had no responsibilities worth the name and more free evenings and weekends to give over to it. I look at the rate I managed that first 4 months now and my mind boggles. A post a week is beyond me at the moment, let alone 3 or 4. In the last couple of months I have probably bought more than I have heard - this album included - and that is not a recipe for finishing, well, ever.

There is an Americana of sorts about Swift Street, it's the high guitar line that is redolent of country primarily, but when the chorus kicks in the whole sound of the song embraces that slightly corny commercial country sound unashamedly. The next track has a poky little riff in it, though it drops out for the chorus. An interesting sound that I can't quite find the words to describe. There is a better pace to this, though I find myself thinking a smoother voice would be a better fit with the song in place around it. The livelier number is welcome though. I could see this song becoming an earworm - it has that sort of "grower" feel to it... y'know a song that is just OK the first time you hear it but which with continued exposure builds into a favourite. I think, though, the runtime probably knocks that on the head. It sounds like the song should be ending around the 4 minute mark but there is another 90 seconds plus of extended lead out to put up with. That might work in a live gig, but not so well on .mp3.

This is definitely eyes-west though. The guitars continue to hum lines that have an American tinge to them, the pacing is slow, rural... It isn't the same Americana as Grand Drive were, and I maintain that it is more bland (or perhaps familiar?) than that big sky sound but it is slower pace, rural and small town in a way that doesn't feel quite right coming from a British band somehow.

If I didn't know this was from 2017, I wouldn't have a clue where I would place it. It sounds out of its time somehow. The opening track was pretty nondescript 00s rock, the heart of the album I am buried in now has an older feel to it... 80s maybe, with flashes of even earlier. I associate sounds like this with (mostly bad) films watched when I was a teen. I couldn't name one if pushed, but that's the direction my thoughts float on It's Just a Game. When that track ends they launch into another which could have been a continuation in some respects.

At this point I think Wilson's voice is starting to grate. He sounds older, more worn out, on this record and whilst that can really work for some performers the longer I am exposed to him here the more I find that roughness annoying. It probably doesn't help that his style leaves a lot of words open... long sounds that seem not to finish before the lyric moves on. This gives me a scratchy kind of feeling, rather than a cultured one... more "I've been singing too long" than "years of booze and fags to shape it". Not that the latter is better or should be aspired to! The music has receded back into a generic ameri-rock pattern for now, very 80s guitars making my ears glaze over some (who knew ears could do that too?).

I am half way through. It is worth mentioning that the physical copy of this album is 2 discs.

This second half has a couple of really long tracks, the first of which is unfortunately forgettable, It seems to have set a musical theme that I am less than engaged with and there is an awful lot of title chanting in the lyrics right about now. The first half had its moments of difference though so I am hopeful there will be more, and my hope is rewarded almost immediately with a slow number. Don't Walk Away is the stand out of the album so far. I love the female voice added here, I like the muted horns under everything and the space the arrangement gives the voices. It's a little unexpected gem.

To underscore how unexpected it is, the next track adopts more tried (almost typed tired, which might be true, but a little harsh) and tested structures. It is another slower number and brings to mind a whole genre of country tracks that populate radio stations in TV shows. This is the second 7 minute track (rounding up) and it goes on, and on, and on... sucking joy from me as it does. Endings, people, endings are a good thing!

Oh geez. I typed that at 5 minutes. There's no pace, no interest, just hold and sway - this is not a dance hall and I am alone so it is filed under delete. I don't normally like to cut things on first listens because music really can grow on you, but I have limits there.

I will say this... the use of the sax gives things an odd tone in that it is not entirely in tune with the Americana theme, a little bit of incongruity that freshens up what might otherwise be stale.

I like the riff for a change! Let the Water Wash Over You has a hum to it. Very generic light rock hum, but it is still pleasing. I think I am running out of things to say though - fighting the urge for single sentence paragraphs and dismissiveness.  A long day boardgaming half-fried my brain and now words are far from my grasp. 3 hour round trip driving tomorrow too... busy weekend. Of course - the weekends I am busy are the weekends that the weather would have supported being outside doing useful stuff. Such is life.

Oh dear, the end of the song is a weird old let down. Thankfully the following sound is brighter, and we're on the final stretch now. Overall I don't really know what to make of it. Probably I shouldn't have bought this one, but then again there is an obvious high point in there and another couple or more that could be growers. Others are formulaic in construction, repetitive and overly reliant on a small number of lines lyrically. There are grand moments of Americana, and petty faux-pas of Americana. What there isn't is a consistent feel to that theme - it darts about from dull to impactful and back.

Oh that was horrible sentence construction. Nevermind... a less gravelly Wilson and very country guitars are sliding me along to the end of the album. Flying By the Seat of Our Pants is onto a loser though, because the title is so close to I'll Fly By the Seat of My Pants by King Creosote and it puts that other tune - one of my all time favourites - into my head instead. So I end the record thinking of something else rather than paying attention to this one, which is a little unfortunate, because I think this might be one of the better songs on this album.

The summation would be thus: alright, might grow on me if I gave it a chance.

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.

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.

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.

Boots Met My Face - Admiral Fallow

Track list:

1. Dead Against Smoking
2. Squealing Pigs
3. Subbuteo
4. Delivered
5. These Barren Years
6. Old Balloons
7. Bomb Through The Town
8. Four Bulbs
9. Taste The Coast
10. Dead Leg
11. The Sad Clown Cast

Running time: 48 minutes
Released: 2010

I can't remember which festival I saw Admiral Fallow at, I suspect it might have been End of the Road. I was immediately struck by their set and their similarities in origin, demeanor and sound to King Creosote. This of course meant I had to buy up their album when I got home. So I did, and here we are. I don't listen to it much, but I occasionally use Subbuteo to kick off a shuffled playlist; it is the one song I can put any sound to now. I didn't really get on with the follow up album but I am hoping that this will be going back and enjoying a gem that I have overlooked too long.

A wistful clarinet starts us off with a sadness-tinged tune supported by one-note strumming. A strong Scottish accent adorns the voice of our vocalist when he enters the piece, along with drums. The track has built nicely - keys, drums and guitars replacing the woodwind carrying most of the tune. Its a slow, downbeat number, but not overwhelmingly so - there is hope in some of the brighter notes; hope in the context of sadness. I really like the effect, even though the melodies are just recycling by this point.

It is 10.30am on 1 January 2016. I suppose I should say Happy New Year. Replacing the lush sounds of Dead Against Smoking is a lone acoustic guitar rambling through a melody with vocal accompaniment. The pace is higher, emphasised when the drums join in. I am less taken with this tune; the central hook is fine and the execution is alright but it feels as though it is lacking something relative to what went before. A great screech and crescendo adds nothing. Hah, screech is in the lyrics; funny how we pick things up subconsciously - I only noticed after using the term myself. I am so glad when it ticks over to Subbuteo - this song has a real attraction to me. Light guitar hook, wistful air, soft vocal and a less than pretty picture painted by the lyrics - it feels heartfelt and personal, a portrait of a childhood. The structure, spread out single beats below the busy guitar and supported by a background quietly laid behind it all but managing to lift it up all the same, gives a really solid core. It builds suddenly into a crashing, cry for help of an outro; I thought there was a more impassioned plea in the vocal to go with that - maybe I missed it this time, but more likely I misremembered it.

We drop back to guitar and voice for Delivered. I don't think the group are as good when stripping out the depth of sound that we have had from woodwind, strings, keys and drums. This is noodly nothingness. There is, however a great musicality in the vocal... and of course as I type that he goes for notes that don't quite work, giving a jarring sound. Not a great track, but a brief one. The larger sound is back for These Barren Years. I am not taken with what lyrics I pick up here, but there is a nice rounded rumble to the progression of the tune up until the point they start repeating the chorus when I feel that it all falls apart. It isn't interesting enough to support heavy repetition.

The album seems to alternate between big sounds and smaller ones. Old Balloons is stripped back again, a rapid looping guitar hook and piano tune. It threatens to explode into a larger number at moments but has yet to quite manage it. Eventually the electric pickup arrives with drums and it is a relief - not that the opening was bad, but that the promise to expand was not an empty one. The keys become grander in scale with it, carrying the bulk of the tune, and the keys are all that is left once the crescendo has passed and the track begins to build again. I find myself enjoying the piece despite myself when it goes all mental for the last minute. A chorus played with extra intensity, pace and volume and repeated twice is the end of the vocal and the end of the track. The build felt like it deserved that end, rather than in some cases where the explosion of activity feels unmerited.

We have a female lead vocal on Bomb Through the Town, a floating voice over a backing that grows on me as she starts holding notes for longer. The harmony when the regular lead singer joins in is an odd one. It doesn't always work, but when it does it is really sublime. The thing is their disparate voices handle some notes very differently - strain against natural inclinations - but where they are both in range they offset each other nicely, not competing for space. The tune is actually dull as anything. A plodding drone, the only good thing to say is that I only really noticed how boring it is once the vocal was no longer present. I don't know about rediscovering a gem, but this listen is interesting - a bit more thought provoking for me than some recently. For instance, I find myself wondering to what extent ones surroundings influence the creations we make, with this album clearly identifiable as Scottish even without the accents.

Taste the Coast is pleasantly happier, pacier and catchier. Harmonies again in the chorus, a homecoming tale. There is a moment in the middle of the song where the busier elements of the backing drop out and we get a simple chorus with that harmony and it is a lovely little moment. The happy buzz disappears for the lead out. Vocals start repeating a line that had not appeared to date, pace drops, a subdued piano wandering comes in... it all works much better than it should in truth. The same cannot be said of the penultimate track, a 7 minute long oeuvre, the first half of which is disappointingly barren, not much music and a vocal that doesn't inspire. We get a bit more development past the half way mark but it is still staid and plodding. The development is limited, too - I kept expecting it to build further and do a little more to replace the vocal, which has vanished, but we just repeat the same phrase over and over. This one is for the scrap heap.

The bonus track on the end (I don't think it was on the original 2010 release; the album was re-issued in 2011) uses electronics that immediately make me think of Mogwai, specifically tracks from Hardcore Will Never Die But You Will - this album being produced by Paul Savage, who has a hand in producing that record, and many others I own. I miss the rest of the tune whilst confirming that, but while it is a low key ending, it is a far more fitting one that Dead Leg's disappointment.

Bombshell - King Creosote

Track list:

1. Leslie
2. Home in a Sentence
3. You’ve No Clue Do You
4. Cowardly Custard
5. Church as Witness
6. There’s None of That
7. Nooks
8. Now Drop Your Bombshell
9. Admiral
10. Cockle Shell
11. Spystick
12. At the W.A.L.
13. And the Racket They Made

Running time: 51 minutes
Released: 2007

Time for a true favourite now, one good enough to wash away the disappointment of an album cut entirely from my collection last time out. This album contains a couple of my most played songs, one that I can recognise from the first note alone and closes with a tune that would hint at the magic in the combination of King Creosote and Jon Hopkins, which would later earn them a Mercury nod for Diamond Mine.

From the opening bars of Leslie I am instantly back in a cocoon that only King Creosote can create. Long drawn out notes on his accordion accompanying his voice - ever a knife edge between brilliance and brokenness that I love. Gruffness, but also fragility, a combination that - along with a lot of his lyrics - speaks to me in a way no other musician does. There is a reason this guy is out on his own at the head of my most listened list, and it isn't just that he has been prolific over the years because I don't have all those CDR albums he self-produced for Fence.

I am going to leave this link to a Grauniad piece here: its the only time I've ever stumbled over something like a listen report, and it happens to be for one of my all time favourites. The writer is far more shrewd about interpreting songs and gives timestamps which clearly mean it wasn't done live (or presumably from a single play), but it was an interesting read, and another shining endorsement of this album. For the record, I don't think its as good as KC Rules OK.

I find it quite hard to write much about the individual tracks, they are so grooved into my consciousness over years of listening. Stylistically it moves about a bit. By You've No Clue Do You - a Cluedo-inspired number, who'd have thought? - it is in mainstream guitar pop mode but somehow it still appeals to me, feels a million miles away from that mainstream. I think its a combination of the odd subject matter and that voice again. It's far from the strongest number on the album as a result though... I am far more charmed by the like of Cowardly Custard - self-deprecating and heartfelt, it makes a break-up song catchy, easy to relate to and I have a great fondness for it as a result.

For all my familiarity with these songs, I have never really pegged some of the details. We ascribe our own interpretations on to things quite firmly, even as our appreciation of things changes over time. I never used to think much of Church as Witness - too slow and regretful - when I was younger but I find myself more drawn to it now. I don't have children, so I can barely imagine the level of self-loathing the described events conjured, but it is a powerful emotion that here is bravely put to song and shared. Powerful. That we then get a more upbeat number, is welcome. Of course, that upbeat tone is only skin deep; all the jaunty, easy tunes in the world wont disguise the bitterness of the lyrics, which basically boil down to "there's nothing good in this relationship," but it does take the edge off and make for a decent song. I notice on this listen that the lead out is a bit too long, though, so it's not perfect.

At least now we get a tune that is nice and whimsical, a positive take on the whole relationship thing rather than a bitter retrospective. There is something incredibly formulaic about Nooks, and yet... I don't know if its the fact that I can immediately relate to the situation described, the small touches, the fact that this sits within an album of favourite tunes or what, but I don't find the simple repetitive tune at all off-putting, nor the clichéd topic eye-rollingly dull. Funny how we can excuse the faults of the things we like eh? If this tune had been by anyone else it would probably be unlistenably bad. I do like the way the tone of these tunes wanders all over the place - mournful, regretful, forceful, jaunty, new-love happy, bitter... KC's voice and playing supports them all equally. It means you are always hearing something different, but no less good.

Ah, Admiral. I rarely listen to this track any more, but it is the song that sold me on King Creosote way back when I first heard it on Last FM. It really is spine-tinglingly good, goosebumps and shivers on the delivery of the chorus (I almost capitalized that out of habit; the things work does to us, eh?) is just... well, brilliant and broken. Here KC is singing near the top of his range and it introduces a strained sound to the vocal that sounds like a lump in the throat which is utterly perfect and appropriate for the subject matter. I think this song is a pretty good barometer of whether you will love (not like, I would point you more to Home in a Sentence or Cowardly Custard for that) King Creosote or not.

This listen is on a lazy Saturday morning, the week before Christmas. I need to toddle up the road to Majestic to pick up boozy presents a bit later, but hopefully after the deliveries I am waiting for arrive. I got home at 2.30 this morning after being in Bristol for a friend's birthday. Driving back late at night has become a thing; the lure of my own bed beating that of drinking and merriment. Huh. This listen is a good slow start to the day. The last quarter of the album is particularly strong for me. Spystick is a re-recording of a track from the CDR days, given a much lusher arrangement, a menacing drone and a relentless drive, the backing vocal adding a sense of paranoia entirely appropriate for the stalker-ish nature of the lyrics, then At the W.A.L. (Women Against Laughter - no, not very PC but rather knowing about it, I ascribe a self-awareness to it; I have to or feel dirty about the song) starts slow, but once the scene is established we get an injection of pace and purpose and a riff that supports the rest of the song comes in, the lyrics quickly devolve to plaintive cries of "Its gonna be alright" with the edginess and emotion of his voice carrying the day. Everything goes a bit mental musically in a long old lead out, but unlike There's None of That it doesn't overstay its welcome.

The real crown jewel here though is the closer. I think that And the Racket they made is an HMS Ginafore song (she provides the backing vocals here) covered by KC, not the other way around but I can't find anything to back this up. I have seen live clips and heard streams of a more guitar-ridden rendition and that spoils it some for me, but here on the album Jon Hopkins' sparse arrangement and KC's voice lift the poetic lyrics into an almost religious experience for me, just so perfectly matched and observed. It's very, very quiet, thoughtful and reflective. Powerful imagery and masterful execution - I could listen to it over and over; it is one of my all time favourite tunes - but only in this particular version.

The Best Imitation of Myself (Disc 1) - Ben Folds

Track list:

1. Brick (Radio Mix) - Ben Folds Five
2. Annie Waits
3. Philosophy - Ben Folds Five
4. Underground - Ben Folds Five
5. Landed (Strings Version)
6. One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces - Ben Folds Five
7. Don't Change Your Plans - Ben Folds Five
8. The Luckiest
9. Smoke
10. Rockin' the Suburbs
11. Kate - Ben Folds Five
12. Gracie
13. Still Fighting It
14. You Don't Know Me
15. There's Always Someone Cooler Than You
16. Still
17. From Above
18. House - Ben Folds Five

Running time: 74 minutes
Released: 2011

I needn't have worried about overdosing on Ben Folds (Five) as it turned out. Not only have three new purchases sneaked into the gap and extended the distance since I listened to the last little glut, but that is now already a month ago because I have been so unusually busy as to not get down to listening much in the interim. Now, though, we have the three discs of Folds' retrospective, packed with items from the breadth of his career, some phases stronger than others. I forget how they were organised but I think this first disc was the best of, the second disc was live recordings and the third was rarities. There will be some duplicates to cull here but that wont be everything. The disc is notably the only place I have two tracks in particular: the duet with Regina Spektor, You Don't Know Me, and House, which preceded the reformation of Ben Folds Five for The Sound Of The Life Of The Mind and got my psyched for that release. Man, if the album had been even a patch on House it would have been great... alas.

We open with the version of Brick that anyone familiar with Ben Folds Five will know. As much as I love the song, this is not a patch on the solo version on Ben Folds Live and I have this on Whatever and Ever Amen so this one, with the (Radio Mix) tacked on, will go. One might ask why I bought this retrospective given that I own the vast majority of Folds' output and yeah... that's a good question with a couple of answers:

1. Rarities and live performances: There are many items on discs 2 and 3 that I did not have before I got this, and even on this disc there are versions of Landed and Smoke that I don't have anywhere else in addition to the Spektor duet and House mentioned before.

2. I use CDs in the car; I am, for a variety of reasons, still wedded to a physical format and a triple album that takes up the space of one? I'm all over that for the commute.

This disc wanders all over Folds' career. Rather than charting a course from early to late, it jumps around with the second song being the opener from Folds' first solo record, Rocking the Suburbs. I was at uni when that album came out, I remember a friend of mine picking it up on release and we listened to it round at his place. I remember he was pretty scathing about this track, but I always rather iked it. I dunno whether that is because, like a lot of Ben's work, the lyrics touch me on a sensitive nerve or whether I am just more able to enjoy the much more commercially flat composition or what. Anyway, I still rather like it now.

I have somehow managed to make it 3 listens in as many days. OK, so one was only 5 songs, but both Friday's and today's are over an hour long - and with the sundries that come with writing these things up, that equates to 90 minutes plus of attention to squeeze out of a schedule that hasn't permitted much lately. Thankfully this is a quiet weekend, not much going on bar buying a new toy and doing some basic garden care.

Having swooped forward, we drop back to the debut of Ben Folds Five for the next two songs and, to this point, everything I am hearing is getting digitally dropped after I am done. That said, the couplet of Philosophy and Underground - age-old as they are now - are appreciated. The best music stays vital, and whilst these songs have definitely aged (or perhaps it is fairer to say that the recording techniques have aged) and have nothing like the richness you might expect to hear in a modern arrangement and mastering, I suspect their themes and subjects are just as relevant to the youth of today (not that I know any).

We fly forward in time to Songs for Silverman next. Landed is a pastiche of an Elton John song, or at least I think I recall Folds saying so. I love it though. I leant hard on this in dark times past... and I feel like I've written this all before. Yup; this was on Ben Folds Five Live. This particular version has a lush string backing (hence Strings Version, duh!); to be honest I am not entirely sure what it adds because I never hear anything other than the vocal, clinging to the lyric. OK, that's hyperbole - the extra structure does change the dynamic a little - just enough for me to hold onto this.

Five of the first seven here are Ben Folds Five recordings, with only 2 more in the other 11 tracks. It makes me wonder how and why the track list was compiled as it was here, but only in passing as I am not that much of a raging Folds nerd (not quite). Of those 7, only Don't Change Your Plans is from their third (and last pre-split) album. I think it is under-represented in the retrospective as a whole, which is a shame because it was a very mature record, a band at the peak of their powers - with a more sombre and grown up tone. I love this song though, it speaks to a wanderlust I do not feel, and a sense of rootedness that I can relate to but have nothing tangible to attach to. If that sentence makes no sense to you, you are probably smarter than I.

Few songwriters can make me feel so viscerally lonely and vulnerable as Ben Folds, and The Luckiest is right up there with the songs that do. Less so now - I am older, wiser, just as single but far less self-defined by it, but whilst I was young, socially awkward and contemplating long term loneliness this love song sparked a terrible envy, even as I recognised the geeky beauty of it. Now I just think its a nice song, and think "wouldn't it be nice to share it" but then move on quickly. The next track doesn't help with that - Smoke is a bastard of a track, horrible break up agony couched in a lovely melody but the bitterness glares through that at you. This is a BFF track but performed instead by Ben and an orchestral backing. Here the orchestra really does add something - there is a sense of depth to the song that is absent from its original form. Assuming my memory of it is right that is much more stark and here the strings enhance the sorrow, overriding the bitterness a little.

It is a very dramatic change of tone to have the next track as Rocking the Suburbs - a self-deprecating comedy song with (deliberately?) crappy programming and other modern stuff and nonsense that somehow became not just a title track for an album but actually a reasonable track in its own right despite this, and screamed invective in the middle. I think this comes down to the writer's natural knack for catchy, and it helps that even though it is a comedic approach it is purely self-focused. We Brits like humble folks, so self-deprecation always plays well with us - much more so than standing big and proud shouting "look at me I'm great" - even if we think the person is great.

Ah Kate. This was, I am sure, the song that got me into Ben Folds Five as a teenager. I have vague memories of stupidly shuffling around the living room to this breezy number, taping it off the radio and so forth. I am not sure it holds up as well as most of their output, perhaps because it is more inextricably linked with being young and I am no longer that. It is still a pleasant tune though - Folds only started failing to deliver those with Way to Normal really, and even then there are some decent songs to balance out the dross. It is hard to really pick favourites though, in a way that I don't find with other artists. King Creosote and Thea Gilmore are two more artists that have touched me deeply at various points, but there I am easily able to point to favourite songs. With Ben Folds it is more dependent on my own mood as to which of his numbers I prefer. Incidentally Gilmore just released Ghosts & Graffiti which features KC on one track; that's a pairing I was stoked for initially, then less so when I realised which track (it is, again, kinda a retrospective) - its an aside from this post, but I am closing in on the point where I stop following Thea Gilmore as the last few releases have been drifting away from my musically, alas. At one point a Gilmore/Folds collaboration was my dream duet.

Back on track, after a version of Still Fighting It that I think might be different from the album version (have to check that and remove one later if not, I guess) its time for You Don't Know Me. This is just geeky joy for me. Ben Folds and Regina Spektor on the same record, personalities bumping off each other and sparking a really natural-feeling interplay. The quirky staccato structure really works for this too, bouncing around nicely. It makes for an incredibly catchy number, and there is also something intimate about Spektor's delivery in places, almost whispered. Perfect pairings like this can often be disappointing when they occur - see the previous paragraph! - but this one really works for me, and makes me wish there was more.

Still is the one track on this disc that I am not really familiar with, whilst I do apparently have another copy of it the name means nothing. However it is familiar when it starts, a haunting solo piano, a slow number. Strings are added later, creating more of a sad and wistful air which is quickly whisked away by the opening of From Above. This is high tempo, from Folds' collaboration with author Nick Hornby of About a Boy/High Fidelity etc. fame. Hornby is a big Folds fan and cited one of Ben Folds Fives numbers in 31 Songs, which I have read, though I cannot recall which song it was off the top of my head. At some point he connected with Ben, and ended up penning an album's worth of songs which Folds then arranged and recorded. The resulting LP - Lonely Avenue - is pretty good. From Above is not the best song from it (that is Picture Window in my book) but it is an enjoyable romp.

We arrive at House. This is a really strong song. The chorus is Ben Folds Five at their absolute best, emotion, structure melody, and power. When they really get into it they produce a whole heap of sound. It feels much less impactful listening now that when I first heard the song in 2011 and it hammered in to me - but I think that is to do with my speaker, the relative volume and no longer having the excitement of a potential Five reformation. Hearing this new recording back then was a promise of awesomeness - one that ultimately I feel the band did not deliver on. Now I listen to it and it is just a pretty decent song; it has lost something intangible, something I brought to it.

So what's left after this runthrough? Landed, Smoke, Still Fighting It, You Don't Know Me, Still and House. 6 of 18; I've checked Still and Still Fighting It against the other versions I have and they are different (Still is 5 minutes shorter here for a start!) so will stay.

Being Alive: Loose Wheels and Latchkeys 2000-2005 - Grand Drive

Track list:

1. Shake My Tree
2. Something to Believe In
3. I Know There's a Place
4. I Want You (And I'm Right)
5. I'll Be There for You
6. When a Champ Hangs Up His Gloves
7. Being Alive
8. The Fair Goes Slow
9. Holding On
10. Rolling Over
11. She Loves the Jerk
12. The First Time Again
13. Wing in the Wind
14. Hearts of Stone
15. The Premise

Running time: 77 minutes
Released: 2005

I first got into Grand Drive through Danny and the Champions of the World (what lead singer Danny George Wilson did next), I think. LastFM featured somewhere in there too, as their strains of Americana cropped up on more than one station I found myself listening to. There was something evocative about their best work, some ramshackle charm and simple pleasure. It was only after I bought everything I have and he saw them on my shelf that that I found out that my brother had worked a little with them on one of their albums (I forget which now), and that I crossed the road from which they took the name on the way to his last house. Or something.

This is the "best of the rest" type of offering - you know, the "we've been around X years now lets put out the unreleased material" jobbie. At least, I guess so - the title kind of implies it. There are some things on here that light my memory strongly and positively and others that I just do not recognise or cannot recall. I think this will be a fun one to listen to, but for the length - my staying power isn't great at the moment!

Shake My Tree is an odd choice to open with. Its very unlike the rest of their oevre and starts slowly. Once the vocal comes in it is more recognisable but the pacing and rhythm is still rather odd, more reminiscent of ska, or at least more claustrophobic in character than most Grand Drive tracks - like the one that follows. Higher tempo and a floaty melody to open puts me back on more familiar ground. I have always liked Something to Believe In, the constant of the guitar, the harmonies in the vocal, the expanse of the track as a whole.

"Americana" is an odd genre; I couldn't describe the genre to anyone concisely but I feel like I would be happy to assign it on hearing things. That said the list of artists under the genre on Wikipedia is rather wide-ranging with plenty of people that are not at all familiar to me. I have also seen Grand Drive tagged as alt-country, which I think is utter tripe as a catigorisation. Americana seems to fit though - certainly the larger, open sounds are characteristic - and hey, that Wiki list contains swedes, so I guess London-based Australians can qualify too.

I Want You returns a little to the slightly darker tones and less established rhythm of the opening track. I find myself not really recognising the verses, and the chorus is strident than I remember. The song is really not what I recalled at all. That is no bad thing per se, but it is a bit jauntier and less purposeful for it and I think I like the misremembered version in my head a bit more. It's like the musical equivalent of sportspeople looking like better players when they're not in the team.

Stretching the sporting analogy past credibility (I'm sorry; I've been watching rugby - still am, in fact as the women are currently losing to France - all day and am working off the disappointment of England coming up just short on points difference) this album is like the subs bench. A couple of really good players ready to come on and shake things up but mostly stocked with those not quite good enough to have made the first team. That is to say the songs are solid enough representations of Grand Drive's work but not many of them are real favourites. There are exceptions - Something to Believe in was already mentioned, and She Loves the Jerk is upcoming.  However the majority of these songs are unspectacular, inoffensive easy listens. Honestly the biggest take away from many thus far is the general atmosphere of the album. That may sound negative, damning with faint praise but I assure you it is not meant like that because I find the soft edge and open sound to these pieces a very pleasant and relaxing one.

Danny's voice is not the strongest, but it has character that serves him very well. Character is not quite enough to carry a song like Being Alive off without a hitch - it is too quiet, leaves too much to the slightly frail, quavering nature of his sound - an edge that works in more bombastically delivered songs or with more in terms of support from the arrangement, but that lets him down when left to stand along. In some respects I find the vocal a little reminiscent of King Creosote, whose singing voice I once described as "brilliant and broken in equal measure" (or something along those lines). The middle of this album exhibits the broken side of that dichotomy too much and, in a show of nominative determinism (I love that, by the by), The Fair Goes Slow is far too slow to be of any interest at all.

The chorus of Holding On, by contrast, plays on that broken edge and frailty in the voice by being both a slightly more sombre song (the title phrase is almost plaintive in nature and forms a major part of the chorus) and by offering the right kind of support from the instruments to create the appropriate crucible for it to shine. That said, I am a little glad when Rolling Over has a little bit more tempo to it.

She Loves the Jerk is apparently a cover (yes, I just looked that up). I loved it the first time I heard it, mostly for the narrative imagery and the capture of a feeling of frustration of being on the outside. We then get treated to a much more richly arranged number, brass and all sorts appearing. I generally prefer Grand Drive when they have a bigger sound... or at least, I think I do but I am sure that does not always hold true.

Just a few to go now, and I know the last track well, but not the two preceding it. Wing in the Wind is stripped back again, back to soft, pleasantly relaxing. There is a nice sway to the verse, a decent enough arrangement. It works without ever standing out. Oh, turns out I do recognise Hearts of Stone - the chorus at least rings a bell. Its a little too slow for me really, at least at this time of night on a day of disappointment (England Women have indeed just succumbed to defeat to go with not quite taking the men's title earlier).

The Premise is our closer, it is almost like one long outro really... an 8 minute instrumental number with a catchy, clappy, rhythm a hooky guitar melody. I have heard it a number of times on shuffle, and the first few I had to look up who it was by as I could never place it as it really does not sit obviously alongside the very song-centric output of Grand Drive's other work. I kept thinking that it must be from some soundtrack album or other because it feels like title credits music more than anything else. The repetitive nature of the track plays into this pretty hard - its like a one-trick pony, relying on its trick so long and hard that you think in its original form there must have been something else to back it up somehow. Thankfully its a pretty pleasant trick and it plays into the overall atmosphere of the album.

So as it closes, I will be getting rid of one track - in addition to being too slow, The Fair Goes Slow is also too long. The rest... everything has a place. Largely in Grand Drive's case that place is in a playlist of similar material for me - but that is a playlist I can see myself returning to in future.

Avalanche - Thea Gilmore

Track list

1. Rags And Bones
2. Have You Heard
3. Juliet (Keep That In Mind)
4. Avalanche
5. Mainstream
6. Pirate Moon
7. Apparition #13
8. Razor Valentine
9. God Knows
10. Heads Will Roll
11. Eight Months
12. The Cracks

Running time: 46 minutes
Released: 2003

Thea Gilmore is my second most listened artist to on LastFM after King Creosote (and the two of them are way out front in that regard), but it feels like I have loved her work longer. Her more recent material is less to my taste than her earlier work but she has more than enough credit built up for me to buy first and think later all the same.

When it was released Avalanche felt like a step towards a more accessible, radio-friendly sound in some ways but I remember loving it for the brasher tunes whilst not being so fond of some of the softer ones. I look at the track list with familiarity and a smile, but I think I may find the songs I love now are not necessarily those I loved 10 years ago. 

Typing that brought home the passage of time in a fairly major way.

Rags and Bones is an interesting start, because I remember the song for the chorus more than the verses, and the introductory verse is actually pretty sedate, thus having a very different feel to the strident sounds I associate with the song. Gilmore has often been criticised for not having the musical chops to go with her intelligent, self-aware and otherwise engaging lyrics. It is a view I do not fully subscribe to, though I can see why it arises - her words tend to be sharp and pointed across a number of different subjects, but her songs are not necessarily pushing any boundaries... but then who does push music forward with every tune? The criticism is somewhat unfair on that point. Have You Heard is one of my favourite examples of why it does not matter. It is a fairly pedestrian hook, but it is really well executed and the structure of it accompanies the words really well. Maybe not the best composer ever, no, but a damn fine singer/songwriter.

Juliet was a single, and it really shows. Much more radio friendly faire, especially the chorus. It was never a preference of mine, and that is still true today - I find myself bored by it, but like some other works already discussed slight downturns here are not at risk of cutting for sentimental reasons. It is followed by the title track. This is a softer, slower number and one that I enjoy more now I am a bit older and appreciate a little more than the instant hit to my ears - appreciating the space, the wave-like (and well, I guess Avalanche-like) rumble of the backing in places and the poetry of the lyrics. Mainstream is a reaction song - louder, angrier (I always found Thea Gilmore more interesting when the angsty young woman shone through) - against the mainstream of the music industry, which she chose to ignore - and I for one am glad for that. The song does not resonate as much 10 years on though - I do not know much about the workings of the music business, do not want to, but appearances have it as a very... particular industry for 20-something women in a way that ceases to be quite so relevant a bit later in life. Good riddance to shallowness.

Pirate Moon is slower again, more wistful and certainly more classically poetic and again I find I have more time for it at 34 than I did at 23. The soft lull and flow of the melody is easy to relax into, I like it a lot. Then we get a call-back (in name at least) to Rules for Jokers, which was the album that introduced me to Gilmore's work. This tune is a little bland in many parts (inviting the critique raised earlier) but I love the chorus, and the way it changes tone from the verse, gaining a level of urgency and purpose that is missing from the lazy looping hook. Edgy is good where this lady is concerned and when that comes through in both music and words, that is where she is strongest for my money. This is why I feel her earlier work stands up more - she retains the fire to date but it is channelled through cooler air of a more settled life somehow.

Razor Valentine could be a Tom Waits tune - same vaudeville style, same air about the lyrics. Waits was always cited as an influence, so that is no surprise. The surprise (to many, I would think) was that Gilmore does it so well that, the obviously female singer aside, it really could be a Waits song. We now hit the weakest song on the album (though Juliet pushes it close). God Knows has never worked for me... partly because as an atheist the title rubs me up the wrong way for some reason (I use the phrase "God knows" as much as anyone else so it is not simply the turn of phrase) and partly because the song is bland throughout. There is no high point, no real change of pace, tone or volume to break up its predictable sway. It is followed by my favourite, and the shortest track on the disc. The urgency the short length gives Heads Will Roll is like ambrosia to me, and when the backing comes in on the second verse it gives the song a shot of adrenaline that kicks it up a gear. Angst again. Anger fuelling creativity is nothing new but it remains a real path to glory when resentment and injustice can be harnessed like this.

In recent years the track that has rivalled Heads Will Roll to be my favourite on this album is Eight Months. I found it dull originally, but now I think it is now right up there with her best songs. More relaxed again in pace, its cadence is reassuring and its airs are wistful and yearning. It resonates with me for reasons that I cannot quite pinpoint, quite apart from being nicely executed. I find myself almost paralysed for something to write about it as I sat here mesmerised, and look back on the younger me, who would at this point often skip the album to track 1 again, thinking "stupid!"

We close with a lament of sorts, a song that veers off part way towards Waits territory, but definitely stopping short this time. Razor Valentine ploughed right on down that road into uncanny valley, but The Cracks stops up and loses out because of it. It retains a melancholic charm and an interest but ultimately it seems to be a little caught between two (or more) stools in terms of what it wants to be. It is a slightly weak end to the album for me, given the strength of what it contained. The sways of mood and tempo were handled well elsewhere, but placing this last leaves me, as the listener, with a more sombre, less positive view of the prior 46 minutes.

I cannot let that overrule the main point though which is this album is classic Thea Gilmore and it remains a favourite today. She is one of the few artists I would recommend to everyone because I rate and value her work that highly. Avalanche is not my favourite Thea album - that would have to be The Lipstick Conspiracies - but it is a very good one.

Astronomy for Dogs - The Aliens

Track list:

1. Setting Sun
2. Robot Man
3. I Am the Unknown
4. Tomorrow
5. Rox
6. Only Waiting
7. She Don't Love Me No More
8. Glover
9. Honest Again
10. The Happy Song
11. Caravan

Running time: 71 minutes
Released: 2007

The Aliens. What the Beta Band did not become, but some of them did next. No Steve Mason here, but rather Lone Pigeon is back to front up. My recollection of this one is that it is a bit of a mess with the odd high point worth celebrating, but I am looking at the length with a sense of trepidation. I doubt I will have all 71 minutes intact.

I am starting this listen tired. It's just prior to 9pm and I wish I was in bed. I made that mistake yesterday and managed to get 3 1/2 hours of sleep before waking up and being up the rest of the night. Joy. So I am trying to push back bedtime to something more usual. Setting Sun does not go kindly with this mindset, jangly and loud - very retro. It is not a song for a tired man, my state of mind makes it feel dull somehow though... like it has a lot of body but no soul. Big sounds fall flat, the riffier bits are more successful but still lacking something. I feel it would be better as a shorter track (its 5 minutes) where the punch would be more effective. It loses strength as it drags on. There is a hint of a less good Assessment about it if you sniff hard enough.

Robot Man is all trippy sounds - this feels like something the Betas could have done, a feeling only strengthened when the keyboard appears. The rhythms are not necessarily all that, but the other lines hang together surprisingly well given the song is basically "I'm [I am] the Robot Man" repeated ad nauseam.  This cohesion is also present in the next song, similarly stunted lyrically, though this is threatened when it gathers a big sound (and expands lyrically) rather than concentrating on meshing the various odds and ends together. It ends up being pretty dull after a good start - especially as they take to repeating "We are The Aliens" a lot as it closes. "I know that you chump, it's right there on the cover!"

Tomorrow reminds me more of Lone Pigeon's solo work - a bit more stripped back. I am half surprised not to find it on the work I have of his. This is nice, diverting rather than engaging, but very easy to end up nodding your head to. There is more of a song there, a more recognisable structure, but it suffers from overrun and by the time it starts drawing down I am bored. If I called Robot Man trippy, the start to Rox beats it out for that. However after the awful beginning the rhythm it adopts if surprisingly infectious - the touchpoint that immediately springs to mind is Woke Up This Morning by Alabama 3 (insert unshared anecdote here). The track veers all over the place - messy is a good term for it - but it does maintain a neat beat and an edge to it that keeps it interesting. It would never become a favourite but I like it more than I was anticipating.

So obviously that signals the time to throw in some really dull, repetitive guitar riff. That is disappointing, and whilst the track builds a little past that Only Waiting is a sharp reminder that this album is not of consistent quality. The very fast vocal is the only point of interest, and mostly that is because it masks the backing which remains consistently unpleasant. On the plus side, it gives way to the nicest melody on the album, the keys that introduce She Don't Love Me No More are a nice touch, and the structure of this song is a tuneful interlude where the vocal gives hints of Pip Dylan (not a massive surprise, as that is one of Lone Pigeon's two musical brothers) - enough that I have to check to see whether he contributed backing vocals here (not that I see credited). The song itself it pleasant enough but there just is not quite enough to it - certainly not for its full length. It should have closed at the 4 minute mark as the vocal fell away. Instead we get an extended outro, then the keys appear to take up a new melody, with string backing... its all a bit unnecessary, the song already ended.

A nice punchy beat and chord progression introduces Glover - the kind of thing that works really well for 10 seconds but when it continues unabated and does not get much accompaniment can start to really drag. Guess what happens here? It persists for too long anyway. It softens over the middle of the piece and there is a little bit more going on as it is replaced but much of what comes in is experimental balls. The track lacks structure, cohesion. Instead it plays with strange sounds and samples for sounds sake. FOR EIGHT MINUTES! Could really have done without that, guys...

Nearing the end, I think? Well yes, but there is still 16 minutes of Caravan to come. Gulp.

Honest Again is a poorly realised track - it half feels like a reprise of She Don't Love Me No More even thought it is not (actually that is part of what makes Caravan so long). Blandness abounds... but it does well to clear the aural palette for The Happy Song which is just deliriously silly. My abiding memory of this track is of seeing King Creosote (no surprise there, because KC is the other musical brother) play it live and a whole crowd jumping like loons - its the only thing to do when you are happy right? It is not a complex song but there is something infectious about it; the uplifting quality is definitely enhanced by the simple repetition of the word "happy" - hear, sing, think, be. It smacks of self affirmation after Lone Pigeon's troubles with mental health, but whether that was actually the muse for the song is another matter.

Caravan has begun. Boring start. Not very musical loop, dull rhythm, odd vocal skit. It has plenty of time to build (and I am sure it will) but it is not a promising start. It meanders along, and individually some of the sounds that contribute to the way are alright, but as a whole? No, it is a total jumble of incoherence. I am not even bothering to write anything because it is just so devoid of form, purpose and quality that there is nothing to say. An awful way to close the disc. The reprise appears for the last couple of minutes or so, which means there is 12 minutes of crud and 2 of silence. And I listened to it all.

Yeah - on reflection this is getting cut down a bit, but nothing like as much as I thought I might reduce it. There are some neat songs on this disc but there is no consistency of quality so you get some utter dross too. I liked them enough at the tie that I bought The Alien's second album, Luna, too, but we shall have to wait a year or two to find out what I think of that.